Resurrection

by Ryan Attard

  Evans slumped eagle-spread down the wall, and I heard Greede whoop from below. I snuck a peek. He lowered the bazooka.

  “Yippee-ki-yay!” he hollered. “Get ‘em boys.”

  “Abi,” I ordered. “Grab that bonehead and let’s go. Now!”

  Abi grabbed the Necromancer and shoved a knife under his nose, hitting a particularly nasty pressure point.

  “Resist me and I’ll make your last moments a living hell,” she snarled.

  The Necromancer did not resist. At all.

  As we made our way to the opposite side of the house, Abi was forced to shove the Necromancer aside and fight her way through.

  “The other side seems clear,” I said, peering through Limbo.

  “Got it,” she said. An instant later, several mirages billowed from her body. They spread out, sowing confusion, while we made our way to the other side.

  The room was vacant but a wall blocked our exit.

  “Shit,” Abi said. “I don’t have anything that can blast it. Maybe a good telekinetic blast…”

  An idea flashed in my mind.

  Yeah, one of those ones, the really out-there ones.

  “No,” I said.

  “Erik,” she began.

  “Abi, trust me. I’ll be back in second.”

  I stepped through Limbo and emerged upon Evans’s golem. I saw Greede coming up the stairs along with a handful of goons. When he saw me, he faltered a step.

  “Erik Ashendale,” he said, grinning. “I thought I killed you. Well, I did, because you’re a ghost, but you’re still here. How are you still here? Attachment issues?”

  “Alan Greede,” I said as cockily as I could manage. “Still rocking the Steve Jobs look?”

  “Is that the best you can do after a year?” he asked.

  “You’re right. Let’s see if this one is better.”

  I turned and reached out towards the golem.

  I should have thought of this sooner, but I was not accustomed to thinking like a ghost. Golems were immune to most physical and mental attacks, and nothing short of a tank can destroy them.

  But their connection to their masters was spiritual. Not the religious kind. Our spirit is our blueprint, what makes us, us. That was why I was able to retain my identity even as a ghost. Our spirit, that, which some call a soul, is the strongest part of ourselves.

  And that was exactly how the real Evans was connected to this golem.

  As I dove into the golem, I reached out to that connection through Limbo and felt Evans’ presence.

  “Who are you?” he asked. The thought reverberated throughout my entire being.

  “It’s me, Erik. Erik Ashendale,” I said. “Listen, I need you to reactivate this big guy and help us out. Like, right now!”

  “And you think I have not tried?” he retorted irritably. That surprised me. The Evans I knew was calm and collected, a man—or golem—of few words. “The blast damaged the connective sigils. I cannot establish a proper connection.”

  I nodded. “I know. Which is why I’m gonna ask you something crazy,” I said. “Let me in the driver’s seat.”

  “What?”

  “I’m a ghost,” I explained. “Same kind of energy you use to pilot this guy-”

  “I know how golems work, thank you very much,” he spat. Wow, someone take away this guy’s Red Bulls and give him a Xanax.

  “Well, it’s either that or let Greede win,” I retorted.

  Evans was quiet for a second.

  “Very well,” he said. His voice was cold and calm now. “However, I must warn you, that model will self-destruct in ten minutes, regardless of who is piloting it.”

  “Buddy, if we’re not outta here by ten minutes,” I said, “a self-destructing golem will be the last of our worries.”

  “Very well.”

  His mental presence remained, but I could feel him stepping aside and I slipped in.

  I opened my eyes through the golem’s eyes and blinked at Alan Greede. He was bent over, examining the golem. His eyes widened and I grinned.

  “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.”

  I swung my good fist at his side and caught him in the ribs. The golem receptors relayed a tactile sensation, and I felt his ribs break.

  Greede flew to the side, and his men raised their guns and opened fire. Bullets drilled into me.

  “Use the damn shields,” Evans’s voice blared in my head.

  Information flowed through me. I reached out to the sigil in question and blue runes glowed, forming a protective barrier around the golem.

  I grinned.

  “Payback time.”

  I thrust both hands forward. A ring of green runes burned on my forearms. A verdant pulse slammed into the soldiers, instantly knocking them out.

  “Wow,” I heard myself say in the golem’s voice.

  The growl to my side was accompanied by the massive burst of aura. Greede climbed back to his feet like a marionette. From Limbo, I could see Mammon, the demon he had fused to his body, pulling at his aura, reshaping it.

  “Mr. Ashendale,” Evans said in my head. “Rip out your damaged arm.”

  I looked to my right, the side that had been blasted by the bazooka. The blowback from the green pulse had wrecked the shoulder joint and I pulled the useless arm with frightening ease.

  “Chuck it at him,” Evans said.

  I saw a rune glow bright orange on the arm and quickly tossed it at Greede’s feet. The arm exploded like a grenade, once again blasting Greede off his feet.

  I turned and ran.

  “Abi,” I said, when I saw her. “It’s me, Erik. Get out of my way.”

  She stepped aside as I barreled through the room and punched the wall clean off. Then I grabbed the Necromancer, who squealed, and leapt through the hole. I landed heavily on my feet and kept running. From my peripheral vision I saw Abi land and roll, and she joined me.

  “We made it,” I said. “Good jo-”

  The golem exploded. Not a ka-boom type of explosion like the bazooka. This was more visceral, as if someone had grabbed the golem’s molecules and tore them asunder.

  My ghostly self was violently ejected from the golem and rolled on the ground. Pain rattled every ghostly bone in my body. When I stopped rolling, I was lying by a pair of black combat boots.

  Familiar boots.

  The demon wearing them also sported black cargo pants, a black hoodie, and a scowl on his usually-grinning face. Jet black spiky hair was thrown back, usually covered by a black beanie.

  Cat-like yellow eyes glared at me, then at Abi.

  Amaymon let out a menacing growl.

  “Party’s over, bitches.”

  Chapter 17

  I got to my feet.

  “Amaymon.”

  The demon looked at me and cocked his head. “Erik.”

  He didn’t move, he didn’t act, he just stood there, blocking our path. Abi had her staff at the ready, and judging by her body language, she was getting ready for the fight of her life.

  “Amaymon,” I said, taking a step towards him. “You with us?”

  “He’s not, Erik,” Abi said. “He’s a traitor.”

  “I’m on my own side now,” he said. Then he looked at the Necromancer. “And that one’s coming with me.”

  Abi twirled the staff and pointed it at Amaymon.

  “Really, Abi?” he said. “You think you have a chance against me? Not even Erik could take me at his best.”

  “Erik is dead,” she snarled. “This guy is gonna bring him back.”

  “I am?” the Necromancer squealed.

  “And you have no idea what I can do, demon,” she continued.

  Amaymon shot her his trademark grin and flexed his claws.

  “The hell are you two doing?” I snapped, stepping in between them. “You’re not doing this. You’re allies, part of the same goddamn team.” I turned to the demon. “What the hell is going on with you? I thought we were buddies.”

  The demon looked at me like foo
d. “Our contract died along with you, human,” he said. “I owe you nothing.” He glared at Abi. “Step aside.”

  “Fuck you,” she snarled.

  A chuckle erupted from behind me. Alan Greede rolled his shoulders as he calmly made his way towards us. A massive living shadow loomed over him, seen through Limbo as a gargantuan, bloated monster with over-sized arms like a gorilla's and several smaller ones jutting from the torso. Two massive bovine horns came out of its deformed head, and its mutant face snarled and chewed something. I could see its thick black tongue lolling out.

  Mammon, Sin of Greed, loomed over its master, empowering him.

  Alan Greede tapped the Necronomicon book in his hands.

  “Let ‘em fight,” he said. “I personally would like to see what the student can do.”

  The two of them surrounded us, Greede and Amaymon. Through Limbo, their power was like two pillars converging in on us. Tendrils of magic and aura brushed by us, whipping into our bodies. Fear—this was fear made real through the realm of the dead.

  “Abi,” I whispered. “We need an escape plan.”

  “Forget it,” Amaymon said. “I've got super hearing. Not that I need it, Erik. I know what you’re gonna plan before you do.”

  “Amaymon,” I called. My heart thumped hard and fast. “Please, man. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to join him.”

  Alan chuckled. “No, he doesn’t.”

  Amaymon glared at him. “I can speak for myself,” he said. “No, Erik, I don’t have to. But like I said, I’m on my own side now. Me and Greede, we got a deal.” He gave the man next to him a dirty look. “So long as he keeps his end, we’re all fine.”

  “Like I said, O mighty Amaymon,” Alan said, “in order for me to deliver what I promised, I need that man right there.”

  The Necromancer trembled behind Abi when Greede singled him out.

  “Please don’t let them kill me,” he whined.

  “Kill you?” Greede laughed. “I definitely don’t want that. You’re a big part of my plans. And if you help me out, I promise you an adequate reward.”

  He shook the Necronomicon book. The Necromancer’s eyes widened like dinner plates.

  “The book,” he gasped. “You’ll give me the book?”

  Greede shrugged. “Sure. I won’t need it anymore once I’m done.”

  Few sentences in the English language could have caused that much panic in me.

  The Necronomicon is one of the most dangerous magical tools around. Most think it’s just a Necromancy book, but it’s actually a cage. The book acts as a bridge to a whole bunch of otherworldly monsters, each with the potential to wipe out humanity.

  And Greede was willing to part with something like that, once his plan came to fruition.

  “What are you planning, Greede?” I asked.

  He cocked his head. “Come now, you really think I’m gonna spill my guts? What is this, a Bond novel?” He looked at the Necromancer. “On your feet, now.”

  The Necromancer got up and backed away from Abi and I. Great—one more guy to worry about.

  Abi never gave him a chance.

  A flash of light blinded everyone. Even Amaymon was forced to shield his eyes. She leapt forwards, thrusting her staff. Sun Wo Kung elongated and shot forwards. It knocked the Necronomicon from Greede’s hands and sent it flying. Greede stumbled back and I saw Mammon’s magic struggling to make him regain control.

  Abi landed on him, hitting and pummeling. She held nothing back. Greede screamed as several bones were broken.

  The ground rumbled. Abi used her staff to vault into the air and landed next to Amaymon. She swung, feinted, and caught Amaymon off-guard. The demon was sent sprawling on the ground.

  I whistled.

  Knocking Amaymon down was something not even the most powerful of wizards could do. Sure, she had caught him unprepared, but there was no denying her skill.

  Amaymon fought back, dodging and countering, but Abi matched his every move, keeping him within reach. The demon snarled. This fight was supposed to be over by now. Why wasn’t he using his Earth powers?

  Because he couldn’t.

  Of course. Demons like Amaymon couldn't exist on this plane without a contract. And since he was here on his own, that meant he was at around ten percent of his power right now.

  Abi might actually have a shot at this.

  I heard rustling behind me. The Necromancer was crawling towards the discarded book.

  “Oh no, you don’t.”

  Without knowing exactly why, I laid my hand on the Necronomicon. A lightning bolt of power coursed through me. I felt my body becoming stronger, more solid.

  More than that, I felt it again—my magic.

  With a solid arm made out of pure gold energy, I lifted the book and held it under my left arm.

  “Impossible,” exhaled the Necromancer.

  I held out my right hand and focused my magic. Power—I needed power.

  Magic coalesced and twisted into a familiar shape. Blue energy formed a short sword, an ethereal replica of Djinn.

  “Nothing’s impossible. Not anymore,” I said, pointing the sword at the Necromancer. “Now, stay down.”

  “Ashendale!”

  Greede’s scream was out of this world, echoed by the voice of Mammon. I saw the massive beast raise one of his massive hands and slam it onto me. At the same time, I swung my sword and unleashed a burst of magic.

  The blow veered off to the side and Mammon’s fist left a crater where it landed. A deep wound opened along his arm where I had struck him.

  “Amaymon! Finish this!” he yelled. “Now! Or you will never see your father. Never!”

  Hang on…

  Did he just say Amaymon’s father?

  The burst of magic roiled the ground beneath our feet. Amaymon aura became darker—far darker than I had ever seen—and he stood there. Abi struck. He caught her staff and wrenched it out of her hands.

  Then he punched her stomach and Abi fell, hard. She doubled over on the ground and did not move for a long second.

  “Abi!”

  Mammon’s fist hit me again, this time catching me in full. I was smashed on the ground and the Necronomicon fell out of my hands. Instantly, all the power it granted me vanished.

  The Necromancer reached for the book but Greede was faster. Mammon’s massive demonic form grabbed the book and handed it to Greede.

  “You’ll get this after we’re done,” he told the Necromancer.

  The latter just nodded, looking like he was about to wet himself.

  “Amaymon,” Greede said. “We need to persuade him.”

  The demon grabbed Abi, hoisting her from both arms, and lifted her up.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I spat at him. “What does he have on you? What is this father business?”

  Amaymon glared at me but said nothing.

  “Mr. Ashendale,” Greede said. “I require one last component for my experiment. You.”

  “What?”

  “You,” he repeated. “I require you, in all of your ghostly glory.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out something that resembled a soul catcher. He tossed it at the Necromancer’s feet.

  “You’ll surrender to the Necromancer and allow yourself to be jailed,” Greede said. “For some reason we cannot forcibly trap you, so we have to apply some pressure.”

  He nodded at Amaymon, who pressed one finger at Abi’s side. He moved it an inch and I heard the rib snap. Abi screamed.

  “The longer you withhold, the more damage your former familiar will inflict upon your apprentice,” Greede said.

  “Amaymon, stop,” I begged. “Don’t hurt her.”

  The demon looked at Greede. “I’m not gonna kill her. I told you that.”

  “Yes, of course,” Greede snapped irritably. “But you’ll break her.”

  “She’ll heal.”

  “Possibly.” Greede cocked his head at me. “So? What’s it to be?”

  “Amaymon,
let her go,” I said.

  Amaymon pressed his finger to Abi’s ribs, breaking a second one. This time Abi didn’t scream. She just opened her mouth, veins bulging around her neck, and shuddered.

  “Okay, okay!” I screamed. “Stop.”

  Greede watched me like a predator.

  “I’ll surrender.”

  “Erik,” Abi gasped. “Don’t do it. Don’t-”

  Amaymon smacked her head and Abi fell limp and unconscious. I could only confirm that through Limbo. Her life line was weak but active.

  “Amaymon,” Greede said, “if he is not trapped within the soul catcher within the next five seconds, crush one of her limbs. Make sure it won’t ever heal properly.”

  “Don’t!” I raised my hands. “I give up. Let her go, and I come with you.” I glared at Greede. “You’re a crook, but you have a code. You always hold your end of any bargain you strike. This is mine. I come with you, if you promise to leave her alone.”

  Greede nodded. “Deal.”

  I heard Abi’s body drop down on the ground as Amaymon released her. She lay there, unconscious.

  The Necromancer grinned at me. “Hold still,” he said.

  I felt his magic fill the soul catcher as he chanted undertone. Something foul latched onto me, making me squirm. I resisted my impulse to back off. I was not giving Greede any excuse to maim Abi.

  More foul magic snared into my body, gripping me from the insides, and pulled me towards the soul catcher. I felt my body tearing apart. Darkness converged around me.

  I was trapped, blind and unmoving. Everywhere around me was dark. A heaviness pressed down on me, holding me in place.

  The Necromancer’s astral form manifested ahead of me. He was grinning.

  “You’re mine now, Ashendale.”

  Chapter 18

  The straps held me down, securing me to the table.

  After the darkness had consumed me, the Necromancer stabilized the world around me. I found myself in a torture chamber of sorts. Like I said, Limbo tends to show the literal meaning of magic, and here I was, strapped to a table, ready for their sick pleasure.