by Robert York
I knew my staff was a nice sturdy piece of oak when I chose it out of hundreds of saplings from the Lloyd A. Stage Nature Preserve located outside Detroit in Troy, Michigan. I didn’t know however, the pain it would cause when swung like a baseball bat when it connected with my head. My vision faded black, then returned blurry and out of focus. I realized as my senses returned, that I’d fallen over, my right cheek now resting against the cool stone. I cannot tell you how good that felt as I watched a slowly expanding pool of my blood mixed with drool flowing freely from the corner of my mouth.
The Vampire let out an angry frustrated scream then violently struck my right butt cheek with the end of my staff. My body didn’t register the pain because it racked up so much already it had more than enough to deal with. I can assure you however, the blow wasn’t anywhere near a love tap. I rolled dazedly over to look blearily up at her. She raised the staff above her head, a look of calm murderous intent shown in her expression, as if killing me were nothing more than going to the store to pick up a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk and a stick of butter. For any of you reading this that grew up watching Sesame Street, you’ll hopefully get that reference. Even in death I’m a funny guy.
Then she hesitated, turning to listen behind her, surprise evident in her face. I heard it as well. The sound, sand rubbing against stone intermixed with creaking leather made the Vampire drop my staff as she rushed to the side of her twin sister. Apparently she wasn’t dead, which was good for me, her twin however appeared to be in terrible shape. I glanced in their direction. The twin that wanted to end my life cradled her sister’s head and upper body affectionately. Tears of relief streamed down her face. She noticed my eyes intruding in on her emotional moment. Her eyes met mine. She flashed me an “I’m not done with you” look, then scooped up her sister and vanished. Please don’t misunderstand, I don’t mean they disappeared into thin air like a Wizard might, what I mean to say is they were fifteen or twenty feet away from me, then they were gone. I think my eyes had a delayed reaction in tracking the Vampire’s movements. Her quickness just didn’t register in my mind.
I sank back down onto my back lying there listening to the fading tumult around me. Our group must’ve been running out of bad guys to kill or I was just falling into unconsciousness. Whatever the case, it was fine with me. I tried my best to clear my mind once again to heal my body so that I could get to my feet. That proved to be more difficult this time. A song, “Feelin’ Groovy” which was written by Paul Simon, but sung by a group that went by the name of Harpers Bizarre, kept pushing it’s way into my emptied mental space. After a few failed attempts I just went with it, singing the lyrics out loud, proud and off key.
A thought supplanted the golden oldie from my mind as my horrible singing trailed off. If the other Vampire twin wasn’t dead, only badly injured, then it was possible Olivia might wake up as well and be in an unhappy mood about the situation. That thought alone compelled me to get up, painfully. I had an unpleasant act to perform before I could feel at ease. Standing on wobbly legs, I recovered my staff leaning on it as I hobbled stiffly over to Olivia’s unmoving form. Half her face and most of her right hand was charred black from Merlin’s light magic. Even through the ugly wounds she sustained, one could still see the beauty her features once held. She was so very young to meet her end in this manner. It was her choice after all to follow the path that she ultimately found herself on, whether it was wittingly or unwittingly her bad choices added up and the bill sadly for her had come due. Without hesitation I drew my sword concealed within the shaft of my staff severing the head from her body. I performed the same act on three other Vampire bodies that lay in close proximity to Olivia’s remains. I was amazed yet disgusted by the detachment and ease in which I mutilated four bodies. I didn’t even gag or retch from the sound of the sword stroke cutting through flesh or the sight of the heads coming to rest once the deed was done. I’d have more time to dwell on my actions this night for the rest of my life.
After I administered the final cut to a male Vampire that looked a lot like Justin Bieber. I sat my pained, tired ass down on part of an eroded wall that ended up being a serviceable seat with a high supporting back. I awkwardly sheathed my sword as I surveyed the battlefield.
Wilmar had dispatched his Yeti adversaries and moved over to help Glum mop up the remaining Bogeymen. Race and Tilly were out of my field of view so I had no idea what they were up too. The duel between Barnabas and Orm continued with increasing ferocity. Thunder-cracks followed by flashes of light shown off brightly in the distance, their mayhem appeared to be drawing nearer to the church. Adrianna gutted one of the two remaining Vampires with an ash dagger before plunging the blade deep into his forehead. The last remaining Vampire however had his neck broken by a vicious twist administered by his former employer. I recognized him as well. I don’t recall his name and it really doesn’t matter for this story. Adrianna used more force I think than she’d intended, because she twisted the man’s head right off its shoulders. A fountain of black blood gushed from the torn flesh of the neck spraying her impeccably clean white winter jacket. She had a surprised yet annoyed expression of a person that just opened a can of Coke only to find some asshole shook it up moments before and the contents were now everywhere except in the can.
Adrianna dropped the disembodied head with a disgusted look, removing her expensive blood spattered coat followed by the matching gloves. Her face received a few spats of blood, which she quickly wiped away with a clean part of her coat before she discarded it. The removal of her winter coat revealed a white tight fitting turtleneck shirt that accentuated all of her curves. Despite the current state of my injured body, I was in danger of reliving my embarrassing moment in Adrianna’s office. Funny, how men can think of sex in less than ideal situations. I averted my gaze when she looked at me. I didn’t want her to know I was ogling her tight fitting shirt or more accurately what was underneath.
Duncan! That was the headless man’s name, my apologies for the random thought. Isn’t it funny that when you think too hard about something it results in a frustrated mind lock with no answer, but when you stop thinking about that subject the answer comes to you more quickly.
When I looked back I found Adrianna kneeling next to me examining my shoulder wound. Her fingers glided over the bitten and torn flesh tenderly moving the tattered remnants of my t-shirt out of the way. The wound was bleeding, but it didn’t look as though the Bogeyman’s teeth hit an artery.
“Where’s Bart?” I asked.
“He fled with a few of his followers right before the fighting began,” She replied, and then added. “He’s a survivor unfortunately and will be difficult to find. I’ll hunt him until the end of days to make him pay for his treachery and there isn’t a place on this earth he can hide from me,”
I nodded soberly.
“And his followers,” I asked.
She remained silent. Her eyes fixed on mine. Then hers returned to my wound.
“This looks nasty.”
“Tis but a scratch my lady,” I replied.
A broad smile appeared on her face as she giggled.
“You’re this badly injured and you still have enough good humor about you to quote Monty Python,” she said impressed.
I returned the smile, though I think mine wasn’t as bright as hers.
“You watch Monty Python,” I asked amazed.
A guilty expression played on her face.
“They’re quite funny and if you get to be as old as I am you have to experience new things on a regular basis otherwise you’d go insane. I refuse to be like many other stoic examples of my race that do nothing but wear outdated clothing and pretend to sleep in coffins,”
I pondered her answer for a moment, then of course the “Solomon Child” of my brain decided to chime in, and then I said.
“If I understand correctly about what you’re saying is that given the lust we both share for one another I’ll eventually get to see you wearing so
mething made by Victoria’s Secret,”
“You’re incorrigible… I wasn’t saying anything of the sort, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility,” She said cocking a sexy eyebrow.
My smile widened then I coughed. Pain coursed through my body. I would’ve fallen off my stone seat had Adrianna not held me in place. I tasted a coppery tang; I placed my fingers of my right hand inside my mouth. Bright red blood shown on the tips when I withdrew them, Glum’s blow must’ve been far worse than I suspected. It was possible that a broken rib had punctured my lung with that cough. My breathing constricted and it felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest.
“Medical kit,” I managed to gasp between waves of pain. “Backpack.”
Adrianna nodded making sure I wouldn’t fall off my perch before she returned. She stood then raced to the area where our belongings were.
Off to her left, a thunderous detonation outside the church walls rocked the surrounding area. A large dark object hurtled through a weakened section of the already decrepit structure impacting on a stone support dislodging debris and a thick cloud of dust. The object in question turned out to be Orm, I recognized his ugly countenance as he extracted himself from a pile of still falling rubble. He immediately raised his left hand. A shimmering translucent shield of what looked like diamonds manifested in front of him. It’s a good thing he had great reflexes, because a lance of white-hot fire struck his shield a second later and was reflected straight up into the air. I looked in the direction of where I thought the lance had originated and caught a glimpse of Barnabas hovering a foot above the recently demolished wall. His eyes obscured by furious storms of tiny bolts of electricity. Barnabas clutched his staff with his left hand, his right alight with magical power. To my left appeared a wall of intense yellow fire hurdling toward my mentor. The wall, twelve feet wide, ten feet high and three feet thick, incinerated everything in its path; nothing remained of the bodies I’d decapitated. Which in a purely weird way comforted me. Out of sight out of mind as they say. Adrianna stood frozen in place; her eyes locked on this titanic battle. Any thought of retrieving the medical kit had apparently been forgotten.
Barnabas flicked his outstretched hand seconds before the wall of fire struck him. The fire simply flowed around him turning into a billowing cloud of harmless steam. Orm cursed a string of unwholesome words in French through clenched teeth. Barnabas hovered down onto the stone floor. He stood facing his opponent, the distance between them less than forty feet.
“You will not defeat me Barnabas,”
Orm spat. “Do you hear me”?
“I hear you,” Barnabas replied.
“You’re weak,” Orm continued. “I am strong!” “I have the blood of the Vampire flowing through my veins,”
Orm hurled a ball of azure fire the size of an oversized beach ball at Barnabas. My mentor simply turned it into a shower of confetti with an intricate movement of his right hand. Movement caught my eye to the right, I watched Glum gently pick up Oswald moving him away from the action placing him near a sturdy portion of the wall. Wilmar sat to the side of the wall near Glum, watching not only the fight taking place, but also making sure nothing dangerous made an appearance. Both were blood spattered. Glum however appeared to have had the worst of it. I was surprised he was still standing. Tilly and Race were still nowhere to be seen.
“I have the favor of my lord,” Orm screamed.
Orm moved the head of his staff in a figure eight, raising his right hand clenching it into a tight fist. The ground beneath Barnabas shifted, roiling violently. He planted the end of his staff in a crook in the worn stone, pole-vaulting himself out of danger. Orm cursed again. This went on between them for a good ten minutes. Orm would thrust a magical spell at Barnabas and he would harmlessly parry it away. Even though the pain in my body was increasing with every raspy breath, I was interested in finding out how this fight would end.
Right at that moment, Race ran headlong between the two dueling Wizards with Tilly, my Cob Elf riding atop his back and a horde of Bogeymen trailing in their wake. Race headed straight for Wilmar and Glum’s position with his tail between his legs. Wilmar and Glum rose to their feet poised for battle. Glum let out a ear bursting roar as he and Wilmar charged the oncoming horde. Tilly hopped down off Race’s back moving in to protect Oswald. Race turned following the two gargantuans into the fray. Adrianna was back at my side having shaken off the hypnotic trance of the duel. She even had the presence of mind to grab the medical kit. My ministrations would have to wait however; Adrianna was about to be extremely busy fending off these little creatures. I was in no condition to fight, but I was prepared to at least make their advance difficult. My staff lay across my lap, I struggled aiming the head of it in the general direction of the rapidly approaching Bogeymen. I called out in a weak raspy tone.
“Parietis of vis,”
Coming into existence twenty feet in front of me, a misshapen wall of translucent yet solid force raced toward our attackers. To the casual observer the wall would’ve looked like a large block of melting ice, only moving very fast. The force of the wall hit our attackers like a bowling ball knocking down a set of ten pins. The block sent them flying off in several directions. My staff fell from my lap. I no longer had the strength to hold it. My body soon followed suit. I landed next to my trusty wooden staff in a heap. Pain erupted once more, but I didn’t have the energy to care. My position on the stone floor afforded me a sideways view of my surrounding as my breathing became more labored.
Orm cackled as he watched the Bogeymen head for Barnabas.
“My re-enforcements have arrived, it’s time for me to leave Barnabas, I hope you won’t be offended if I don’t watch you die,” Orm chortled.
Barnabas conjured a dazzling blue spherical shield in place around him, which protected him from their onslaught. The Bogeymen ran into the shield thinking I suppose that with their large numbers they could overwhelm it, instead they bounced off the surface like a bunch of kids in a “Chuck E. Cheese” bouncy house. Orm raised his staff preparing to smite the end on the stone in what I assumed was his way on making a dramatic exit. His arm however never came down; in fact he stopped moving altogether, as did the Bogeymen. Beneath their feet seeping up from the ground was a steady stream of coal black smoke. At first, the whole scene befuddled me, but then I recalled what happened at the magic shop when Olivia arrived dressed as the albino, Rahm. Barnabas and Oswald had frozen her and the Vampire twins in place. I glanced in Barnabas’s direction. He appeared to be as befuddled as me.
“You always did talk too much Orm,” said a weak, tired and pained voice.
I glanced in the direction of the voice. Oswald was propped awkwardly against a wall. His badly injured right hand outstretched with dark menacing black swirls of power roiling around it. One eye peered hatefully at Orm. The other sadly was swollen shut and sunken. He looked like - and I hope you’ll pardon this overused expression - death warmed over. Now that I had the opportunity to really look at him, I think my eyes welled up with tears. His skin was a sickly ashen color in spots, the remainder however was a mass of puffed dark purple bruising and dried blood. His signature black crushed velvet suit or what was left of it hung in rags on his still ample frame.
“I should hand you over to the Black Guard and let them have you,” he continued.
“But after what you’ve done, there’s only one punishment suitable for the likes of you,” Oswald spat.
A look of fear clouded Orm’s eyes as Oswald uttered the spell.
“Nex vobis!”
Orm, along with the Bogeymen twisted in pained terror. Their bodies dropped to the stone floor lifeless and unmoving. What remained in place above their now motionless bodies were motes of the same black smoke that seeped from the ground beneath them, only this time the smoke took on the forms of those they hovered above. I thought they might have been their souls if they had any or at the very least life essence similar to that of Merlin. The dark visages looked around
dazedly, then after a few moments the smoke began to dissipate taking the forms with it.
The haze brewing in my mind grew thicker. I felt my lung slowly filling with blood after each labored breath. The last few things I recall clearly as my heavy eyelids closed, was Oswald collapsing, succumbing to his injuries. Glum appeared unsteady. He stumbled more than rushed to his father’s side, his injuries finally taking their toll on his body. Bitten, bruised, torn and covered in blood as well as fragments of the bodies of his foes, Glum collapsed less than ten feet away from Oswald. My heart nearly broke as he struggled the last few feet crawling on the ground to place his huge mitt of a hand affectionately on Oswald’s chest. He smiled a weak Troll smile. His eyelids growing heavy finally closing but not before he let out a grunt of what sounded like satisfaction.
I also remember one or two other things. Barnabas rushing to Oswald’s side for one and of course Adrianna’s knee and thigh blocking my view. I didn’t mind that in the least. I even managed to look up into her green eyes flashing her what I hoped was a contented smile. The moment was ruined however, when Tilly cleaved his way into view blocking the sight of Adrianna. I think I may have had the strength yet to say.
“Move Tilly I can’t see her legs” or something to that effect.
And if Tilly spoiling my last few happy moments on this earth wasn’t bad enough - because I knew at that moment I was dying - his eyes welled up with tears. He leaned into me hard, my chest reintroducing waves of pain that I thought had subsided.
“My poor master is delirious,” Tilly replied shrilly.
His deep sobbing followed me into the darkness as I drifted away.
Sigh, death is so unfair.
Chapter 28
Iawoke a little over three weeks later in a hospital bed at the Henry Ford Hospital here in Corktown Detroit Michigan; surprised Barnabas hadn’t taken me to Treena Greebott’s Wizard Sanitarium in New York City. A large percentage of the magical world trusts wizard medicine far more than the “amateurish” variety mortals practice. Barnabas is one of those percents, so why did he bring me here? I guess in the end it didn’t matter, he at least didn’t tell me to toughen up and rub some dirt on my wounds. I’d slept through Christmas and into a New Year, thinking on it the whole experience felt surreal as if it happened to someone else and not me. I have to go back and amend the first statement of this chapter; in actuality me waking almost four weeks later wasn’t entirely accurate. I have clouded moments of consciousness that I cannot be certain if they were real or manifestations derived from the medication prescribed by my doctors.