The Tome of Bill Series: Books 5-8 (Goddamned Freaky Monsters, Half A Prayer, The Wicked Dead, The Last Coven)

by Rick Gualtieri

  Gah! All of this was fascinating to think about, but ultimately useless in our current plight. This was a real life horror movie, not some chick flick in which we’d all realize everything had been a big mistake right before the climactic kiss at the end. Whoever this Mark guy was, I had the suspicion he wasn’t trying to impress Sally in the hopes of winning her back. It would be in my best interest to envision him more as the Freddy Krueger of this story.

  No, fuck that. He was the evil lich king and once more, I, Kelvin Lightblade, battlemage of the Silent Order, had been called forth to do battle with the forces of darkness. Hell, was this really any different than that time my party got captured by those daemon-phage-infected centaurs? I’d gotten out of that one by the skin of my teeth, but I’d walked away with a plus-three cloak of warding for my troubles. Damn, if only I’d remembered to pack my dice with me on this trip.

  I was still considering these things when I realized it was getting brighter. We’d been traveling in the dim twilight that those glowing cave thingies afforded us, but up ahead, a much brighter light seemed to stream forth. Fortunately, most of the Jahabich were five foot nothing or shorter, so I could crane my neck to see what waited ahead.

  The tunnel opened up once more to a wider space. A brilliant orange-hued light flowed forth from it - a shade not entirely dissimilar to that which glowed from these creatures’ eyes. Whatever this was, I had a feeling answers awaited. But would those answers help us or screw us in our quest for survival?

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Holy shit.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything holy about this place,” Miranda said.

  She had a point.

  I had been envisioning some throne room, a place where we’d be forced to kneel before some rock god - and not of the Ozzy Osbourne type. That, or maybe a grand cathedral where we’d be sacrificed for some stupid reason or other. Instead, this was...I don’t know. Was it a prison, a torture chamber, some sort of giant smelting pot? Fuck, maybe it was all of the above.

  All I knew for sure was we were no longer alone, minus our ever-effervescent Jahabich company, of course. The place was huge, easily as large as the cavern with the pictograph. This one was far from empty, though, and filled with what I had to assume were prisoners.

  The first ones I saw were a group of humans. They all sat together, looking tired, hungry, and without anything remotely resembling hope upon their faces.

  A group of vampires were next. They were unmistakable as their blackened eyes and fangs shone in the dull light. They were all scraped raw and bloody, but that didn’t stop them from circling one another, hissing like animals and taking the occasional swipe at their fellows with their claws. All of them had a disturbingly gaunt look about them.

  “Are they...”

  “They’re starving,” Sally said bluntly.

  Well, that at least answered one question I’d wondered about ever since being turned.

  Some greasy monstrosity was next, looking like a two-headed condor that had been dipped in red tar. Its wings were spread, but speared to the floor with stalagmites. More groups of oddities followed, each weirder than the ones before them, but the last bunch especially caught my eye - Sasquatches. There were four of them, but they were far from the vicious brutes I’d squared off against - appearing mangy and beaten down as they sat in a circle. They looked more like they were planning to die than escape.

  The assembled creatures all had one thing in common - the fences of living rock that walled them in. Dozens of Jahabich stood motionless, side by side, facing inward, their unblinking eyes staring at the prisoners within their enclosures. Amazingly enough, the first thing that popped to mind at the horrific sight was the lack of privacy. I mean, seriously, how could one be expected to drop a deuce in peace with all those creepy eyes watching you?

  The holding cells weren’t the only sights to be seen, though, not by a long shot.

  At the far end of the cave, there was a depression in the ground containing a vast pool of some strange liquid - glowing a brilliant orange that was almost too bright to look at directly.

  At first glance, I thought it might be lava, but if that were the case, we’d all be busy burning to a crisp. Hell, all of the prisoners in the room looked like shit, but heat stroke seemed to be the least of their worries. So if it wasn’t lava, then what the hell was it?

  Sadly, the lone occupant of that section of the cave didn’t appear to be forthcoming with answers anytime soon. A statue over twelve feet tall stood directly behind the glowing pool of weirdness. It gleamed white - carved from marble would have been my guess - the glow of the pool seeming to enhance its presence in the room.

  The interesting part was it didn’t look like a giant Jahabich. It actually looked kinda human. Flowing robes covered its body and outstretched arms. Unfortunately, its facial features had eroded, either through time or calamity. It had a head, but beyond that, I couldn’t tell any real details from it. I strained my eyes to see if I could pick out any other telling nuances, but our tour guides picked that moment to hustle us forward again.

  I thought we’d be tossed in with the other vamps, a prospect that didn’t really appeal to me. I had a feeling feral vampires would be as dangerous to sane ones as any of our other enemies. Instead, our entourage marched us up right next to the Sasquatch cage and spread out until they were side by side, essentially doubling as our holding pen.

  “Not so fast,” a voice said. I turned my head to see Mark striding into the cavern, back in his human...vamp...whatever guise. In his hands, he held a pair of rusty manacles.

  Two of the Jahabich guarding us stepped to the side to let him through. He walked up to Miranda and said, “We’ll make this nice and easy. No protests or hesitation. Just hold out your hands or I will have your arms torn out at the socket.”

  I was ready to intervene if he tried it, for all the good it would do us in our current situation, but thankfully, she wasn’t in a mood to test the resolve of our captors. She lifted her hands and he slapped the restraints on her. They were old, barely holding together, but the symbols scratched into them were plain as day. My gamer senses immediately tingled.

  “Anti-magic field...err, I mean cuffs?”

  “Yes,” he replied evenly, as if discussing a particularly dull news item. “Do I need to warn you about trying to tamper with them?”

  “Let me guess - forceful removal of appendages?”

  He smiled, a row of obsidian spears glaring back at me. “At the very least.”

  “Gotcha, sport,” I replied, keeping my tone upbeat as if none of this was of any concern. A little psychological warfare might not help us out against these things, but I wasn’t averse to playing the game. Also, I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Sally used to bone this guy. Fuck me, but I was half tempted to ask him what his secret was. Oh well, maybe I’d wait for our no doubt impending execution - as far as last requests went, that would at least be interesting.

  He turned to leave, but not before fixing his human-looking eyes on my partner. “Don’t be afraid, Lu. It’s not the end. In fact, it’s just beginning. This world could still be ours. These bodies we inhabit, all of us, they’re more malleable than you’d ever imagine. It’s the spirit that matters. That doesn’t change. There are influences, of course, but you needn’t concern yourself with that yet. You’ll get used to it. Maybe in time, we can even set aside our differences and be like we were again.”

  I had no fucking idea what he meant by that influences part, and it didn’t appear Mark was in the mood to enlighten us further. He turned to leave.

  “Hey, boss,” Brock spoke up.

  “What?” Sally asked through gritted teeth.

  “Not you, bitch,” he spat. Uh oh, this didn’t sound promising. He stepped toward Mark, his hands up, indicating he wasn’t looking for a fight. “You know I was with you, right? After Marlene got iced, I was all for you dusting this whore and taking ov
er.”

  “Did you just call me a...”

  “Now now, Lucinda,” Mark interrupted. “Men are talking. Mind your manners.”

  Either this guy had more balls than brains or he really didn’t know Sally as well as he thought. Hell, even if I were hopped up on Alexander the Great’s blood, I’d have thought twice before saying that.

  Mark grinned broadly, his smile looking like the worst case of tooth rot in history. “I always liked you, Brock. You know how to take orders and are obviously smart enough to recognize the winning side when you see it. Consider your offer accepted.”

  Brock stepped forward to join him, but Mark held up a hand. “I’m afraid I need you to stay here for now. It’s too early for the joining to begin, but I will make sure you are a part of it.”

  “Boss?”

  Rather than reply, Mark’s form dissolved back into that of one of the Jahabich. The Jack O’ Lantern grin that seemed to be ever-present on the monsters’ faces replaced his condescending smile. Overall, it was not an improvement. “You stay. We must serve for now. Will come for you when it pleases us.”

  “But...” I could tell Brock didn’t want to show any fear in front of us. So-called tough guys were like that. Sadly for him, the one area of the supernatural that was the great equalizer was not in his favor. For humans, size and strength could be the defining factors. For vamps, it was age, something Brock didn’t have the upper hand with here.

  Finally, our traitorous fellow decided to swallow his pride and just say it. “But they’ll kill me.”

  The Mark-Jahabich walked out of our holding cell, and the living walls stepped together once more to block us in. He turned and laughed, a sound not unlike metal scraping against concrete.

  “No, they will not. But even if they try, it will not matter.”

  Small World, Isn’t It?

  Brock kept his distance, never taking his eyes off of Sally. It was probably a smart idea on his part. It was also useless if Sally decided to get creative with a compulsion. She didn’t, though, which was a bit of a shame. I, for one, was curious to learn what the very worst thing she could imagine doing to a person was. I had little doubt it would be a masterpiece of creative butchery. Normally, I wouldn’t be particularly keen on such things, but the asshole had sold us down the river. There were times when even I was willing to make an exception to my general rule about holding on to my humanity.

  All Sally did, though, was sit there. She appeared to be in deep thought, but it was possible she was in shock. There was also a chance she was just trying to keep herself in check. Over the next hour, I noticed her fingers had begun to grow back. The act of healing would most certainly continue to drain her reserves. I just had to hope Sally understood that chewing on our resident mage wouldn’t help us in the short term.

  Either way, this wasn’t good. I could normally count on her to come up with something we could use to even the odds. She was a far superior strategist compared to me.

  Fortunately, I’d had an inkling that something like this might happen back when Mark had first shown his face. I didn’t have anything solid yet as far as plans went, but a few potential ideas were beginning to form in my head.

  Of course, none of those would be worth dick if we didn’t accomplish what we’d set out to do. The whole point of coming down here had been to save Ed and, so far, we’d seen no trace of him. His scent had still been strong as we’d been marched through the tunnel to this prison, but now...it was hard to tell. The boost from the blood still seemed to be in my system, but it wouldn’t last much longer. Regardless, there were enough powerful scents in this room to confuse even me, not the least of which were our next door neighbors.

  I stood up and surveyed my surroundings, my eyes stopping first on the nearby Sasquatches. They weren’t in their four-armed mega-squatch forms, but they didn’t need to be to pound a vamp like me into paste. At an average of eight feet in height, they would also have been able to step right over the Jahabich and into our pen if they wanted to vent any frustrations. Despite my nervousness, however, they continued to sit in their circle, ignoring us and everyone else.

  They did stink like shit, though, and that’s what was fucking things up more than anything. Christ, trying to locate a single mostly-human scent through theirs was like trying to find a car after the parking garage had collapsed on top of it.

  Rather than give myself a sinus headache trying, I busied myself with standing on my tiptoes to survey our surroundings and see if I could catch any sight of Ed.

  It was pretty much a snipe-hunt. He wasn’t with the other humans as far as I could see. That led to the hope that he’d maybe been labeled as other and put in his own pen. I mean, there were several lone monstrosities off in their own holding cells. Alas, that seemed to be a dead end as well.

  Fuck this shit. Sometimes, the direct route was the best.

  “Yo, Ed!” I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth. “Are you here?!”

  Throughout the cave, several pairs of eyeballs turned in my direction - some glowing orange, but most of varying hues and general grossness.

  “What? I’m not talking to any of you fuckers.”

  “Oh god, we are so dead,” Miranda muttered somewhere behind me. Such a lack of optimism.

  Next time I got trapped in an unescapable situation, surrounded by insurmountable odds, I was gonna make sure I was accompanied by more positive people.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Another hour passed and I started to get antsy. It didn’t help that I kinda needed to pee and didn’t really relish the thought of unleashing Gorgo in front of the ladies. On the flipside, it would have been pretty fucking hilarious to use one of the Jahabich as my personal hydrant...right before it disemboweled me, of course.

  Much longer and it would be worth it, though...hell, maybe I could try my luck at hitting one of them right in the eye socket. Even if they killed me, that particular Jahabich would never live that shit down if...

  Whoa. A feeling of vertigo passed through me and I had to sit down. I was pretty sure my boost from the vampire blood had been on the wane, but out of nowhere, I felt like a truck had run me over. I wasn’t injured and there wasn’t any pain; just a feeling of being tired - like getting up too early in the morning and it all catching up to you around mid-afternoon. Sadly, I was in the worst place in the world to take a nap break. Even so, my eyelids seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment.

  Just then, a howl of sorts rose up in the cave, completely derailing any sheep I’d started to count. It was as if a hurricane was blowing across a million open beer bottles, and it was getting louder.

  Shaking my head, I managed to clear the cobwebs and get back to my feet. Whatever was going on, I had a feeling it would be unwise to snooze through it.

  I turned toward the source of the sound. At the far end of the cave, the Jahabich forming the humans’ holding pen had all lifted their heads up and opened their mouths wide. As they did, the next group followed suit in turn, then the next. As the odd behavior completed itself, the sound rose from each pair of stalagmite-laden jaws that joined. Within seconds, they were all doing it.

  By the time it reached us, it was near deafening - like being stuck inside of the amps during a rock show sound check. Apparently, my group wasn't the only one with super-sensitive ears as cries of pain rose up in the room, although they were just barely audible over the rush of noise coming from our jailers.

  It continued long enough that I was pretty sure I’d be driven insane, and then it suddenly stopped. One moment there was that sound, like being trapped in the world’s largest leaf blower, and then it was gone. The Jahabich continued to stare skyward, though, as if something really interesting was happening on the ceiling.

  I checked - there wasn’t.

  Then a voice poured forth from them, nearly as loud as the sound before it, and I realized it was all of them talking in unison.

  “Long have we slept and dream
t of this time. Ages have passed and we are now worthy to return.”

  Return? Return where? Also, was it me, or was that howl more or less their way of asking, “Is this thing on?” So many questions and so little...

  “The pure one is the key. We shall rise and enjoy the surface once more. But first, we must replenish those who were lost.”

  Gah! I had to raise my hands to my ears to stop their voices from reverberating in my head. Did nobody ever teach these assholes the concept of using their inside voice?

  I waited a moment to see if there would be more, but the Jahabich present all lowered their heads and resumed their guard stances.

  “Can somebody tell me what the fuck that was about?” I asked to nobody in particular.

  “It simple, T’lunta,” a coarse voice said from just a few yards away. I turned to find one of the Sasquatches had risen to its feet. It was an ugly fucker, a solid eight feet of muscle - some of its mottled skin exposed where the hair had either fallen or been torn out. It stepped forward and eyed us all. “Are you prepared to die?”

  That didn’t sound good. These guys had obviously been here longer than we had. Did they know something we didn’t - like, maybe some kind of assholish ritual combat that was about to ensue? God, I hated that shit. Why couldn’t people just talk through their issues?

  I was about to open my mouth to tell this hairy shit-stain to go fuck himself, when, to my surprise, Sally stood up and addressed him.

  “What did you have in mind, Grulg?”

  Hairy Bedfellows

  Grulg?

  “Very good, she-T’lunta. You remember. Grulg afraid you and Freewill T’lunta forget.”

  “Uh, y-yeah,” I stammered. “I recognized you the moment they marched us in here.” That was, of course, complete bullshit. Most of the Sasquatches looked pretty much the same to me. The only one I’d probably be able to pick out of a crowd was one named Turd, and that was only because he was bigger and a fuck-ton scarier than the rest. Sally had once mentioned that each of them had a unique odor, but I’d never bothered to try and figure that out. As far as I was concerned, they all smelled like sewage runoff on a hot sunny day.