From The Dark

by Tobey Alexander

  ‘Too old for this,’ Archy smiled to himself and watched the soldier climb up onto the wall looking windswept.

  Archy did not look his age, he looked no older than his mid-thirties although in October of that year he would, in fact, be forty-nine. Ever since emerging from the Groot Gat Diamond Mine Archy had aged in many ways but he still carried a look younger than he was. When he had slain the Magdon in the deep caverns of the mine, it had left a lingering mark, one that slowed his ageing amongst other things.

  Under his assumed identity, Archy had seen fit to adjust his age to reduce any unnecessary suspicion from those who might have noticed.

  ‘Light discipline you fool!’ The voice bellowed from somewhere above him.

  A streak of lightning zigzagged across the sky followed by a loud crack of thunder. Archy jumped at the noise but was curious to see the storm out across the sea. Pulling up the wax hood over his head Archy stepped out into the rain and walked towards a sodden metal ladder on the far side of the fort.

  Wrapping his hands around the slippery metal, he made his way up the high fort wall.

  ‘What you doing up here?’ A young soldier asked, offering Archy a hand.

  Taking the offer of help they pulled Archy up onto the walkway atop the perimeter wall and turned to look at the soldier.

  ‘Thanks, Chris,’ Archy offered a half smile as he held the hood to his head against the whipping wind. ‘Nice night for it.’

  ‘Could be worse,’ Chris had to shout to be heard over the roaring gale. ‘Steve’s pissed, to be honest, swapped out tonight’s duty for a date tomorrow with one of the local lasses.’

  The young soldier motioned with his head towards the grumpier soldier who stood struggling to smoke a cigarette taking shelter against the wall.

  ‘Sure it will be worth it.’ Archy chuckled and looked out towards the sea.

  Against the torrent of horizontal rain, Archy could just make out the white crests of the waves crashing against the shoreline.

  On any typical day he could see the shore, the only thing between the fort and the sea was a narrow road meandering around the edge of the island. Tonight, masked by the rain, all Archy could make out was the rough water smashing into the shore.

  Another bolt of lightning illuminated the sky and for a split second Archy could see the raging sea.

  ‘How long’s the storm set to be?’ Archy shouted across to Chris.

  ‘Should be gone by morning, just a passing swell.’ The young soldier moved towards the edge of the wall and cast a glance towards the other soldier. ‘Better get yourself down before Mr Happy has something to say about it.’

  Casting a glance across Archy saw the smoking soldier flick the glowing remnants of his cigarette out over the wall and turn to look at him. In this weather the last thing Archy wanted was an argument, he was not in the mood.

  ‘Best if I leave him with you.’ Archy chuckled as he slid back down onto the ladder.

  ‘Yeah,’ Chris sighed. ‘Lucky aren’t I?’

  ‘I’ll have a brew ready for you in the morning.’

  ‘You’d better, now get going or else he’ll chew my ear all night about having civvies around.’

  As the other soldier stalked towards them, Archy took his leave and descended the ladder.

  He had made it halfway down before he lost his footing. Much to his annoyance as he landed with a thump on the muddy floor he looked up to see Steve glaring down at him. An arrogant and vile smile appeared on the burly soldier’s face accompanied with a mocking laugh that even the howling wind could not silence.

  ‘Careful going down, ladder’s wet you prat.’ Steve mocked.

  Picking himself up from the wet floor Archy brushed off what he could of the mud that clung to him and turned away from the ladder. It took all his self-control not to bite back and was glad when the wind drowned out the cackling.

  ‘Ass!’ Archy spat as he moved across the vast open space and back towards shelter.

  Moving along past the storage yard a noise caught Archy’s attention.

  At this time of night there should be nobody on the main compound yet, without a doubt, Archy had heard banding metal. Stopping in his tracks, Archy held the hood over his face and peered towards a pile of drums leaning against the wall.

  Amongst the crates, boxes and drums he could see nothing. An odd sense washed over him, and Archy’s skin goose bumped as he peered into the shadows.

  There was a faint odour in the air that tickled his senses. The smell was noticeable, but it tickled at a memory long buried. A memory of childhood, a cold and damp cave deep beneath Hadrian’s Wall at Vercovicium, the place where it had all begun.

  Decay, something long since dead, it was pungent enough for Archy to notice as he stepped closer to the piled boxes.

  He wanted to shout into the shadows, entice out whoever, or whatever, was hidden within them, but his voice caught in his throat. The memory he associated with the smell sent a wave of fear tickling down his spine. It was the first time Archy had ever seen anything to do with the Magdon. He had been a teenager hosted at an archaeological dig at Hadrian’s Wall in 1911.

  Venturing into the darkness, he had first smelt the odour, and it had stuck with him.

  He had smelt it again since, many times, but not in a long time.

  Moving to the edge of the piled crates Archy was no longer in the full force of the inclement weather. Covered by the overhanging walkway, he folded back the hood and peered into the darkness.

  Nothing moved.

  Nothing made a sound.

  ‘Hello?’ Archy could finally stutter as he moved around the boxes.

  Someone had erected A large olive green tent next to the wall. The door was unfastened and flapped in the wind, it was the only thing that caught his attention.

  ‘Anybody there?’

  Nobody answered, and as Archy moved closer to the tent, he was thinking he had imagined the noise.

  But not the smell.

  As he moved towards the tent, walking around a pile of haphazard stacked oil drums, he could still smell it. As he got closer to the tent, the smell became stronger, more noticeable until it was the only thing he could smell at all.

  Reaching the tent, Archy paused for a moment. The flapping fabric whipped back and forth in the wind and he could see nothing in the tent beyond. Archy’s heart raced in his chest as the smell grew.

  Undeniable now there was a distinct sound.

  A sound he knew far too well, the sound of bone hitting stone.

  Archy’s heart pounded in his chest, and he held his breath as the sound grew louder and nearer. Stepping back away from the tent Archy steadied his breathing as best he could until, something moved behind the flapping door to the tent.

  As another flash of lightning lit the world, Archy could see the face behind the fold of fabric as it moved aside.

  A skeletal hand gripped the fabric and pulled it aside to reveal the creature behind it. Its face of half flesh and half exposed bone glared at him. One single eye stared at Archy as it stepped out of the tent and allowed the fabric to flap shut behind it.

  ‘This isn’t possible,’ Archy stammered as he shuffled back away from the fearsome monster.

  The even split of decaying flesh, tattered fabric and exposed bone split the creature from top to bottom. Its bone was sickly and pale while the rotten flesh was mottled and dried. The single eye that glared at him lolled in the socket of the skinned side.

  ‘Nivag,’ the creature growled. ‘You have a debt to pay.’

  As it spoke, Archy could see the rotten tongue flapping behind the rows of exposed teeth. No matter how many times he had faced a Nivag, nothing could ever prepare him for the horror when the creature first appears.

  The Nivag was the stuff of nightmares and bathed in the occasional lightning flashes Archy could do little to steady himself.

  ‘Why are you here?’ Archy did his best to sound confident.

  ‘Revenge.’

 
Without warning the Nivag attacked.

  21

  From The Shadows It Comes

  Sandown 1944

  Archy leapt backwards and tumbled head over heels over the piled barrels. The blunt metal struck his shoulder blade and sent a wave of pain coursing through him. Eyes wide, he looked up in time to see the Nivag pounce to perch atop the barrels leering down at him.

  ‘You can’t be here,’ Archy gasped as he struggled to scuttle back away from the monster.

  ‘I must avenge my master, you will pay.’

  Regardless of how many times Archy had seen the Nivag, it is never something he had gotten used to.

  The twisted skin fused with the bone, splitting the creature between death and decay. The single eye peering down at home and the lattice of exposed bone being held in place by some unseen power or curse.

  It had been over a decade since he had last seen a Nivag.

  With the smell enveloping him as he lay on the floor it felt like not a day had passed.

  ‘What do you want?’ Archy asked as he shuffled back to find his way blocked by a wooden crate.

  ‘Blood.’ The Nivag growled, ‘your blood.’

  The attack came swift, but Archy had sensed it. Remembering the monster’s preference for frontal attacks Archy had stabilised himself enough to prepare. Launching from its perch, the Nivag flew towards him only to be met by Archy’s upraised foot.

  Using the momentum from the creature’s attack, Archy tossed the massive monster up and over him.

  The half skeleton monster flew and slammed into the wall behind them. Archy heard the thump of bone against the stone wall as the creature dropped.

  ‘What’s going on down there?’ Chris’ familiar voice bellowed down unseen from above.

  The Nivag snatched its head around to look towards the noise.

  ‘Leave them, you’re here for me,’ Archy shrieked as he raised himself up.

  Scanning around a glint of light on metal caught Archy’s eye.

  Dropping his gaze, Archy saw the well-used crowbar balancing on the edge of a crate to his side. Still wanting to keep the Nivag’s attention from the unaware soldier Archy snapped it up and barked another sentence to command the creature’s attention.

  ‘Me, not him!’

  Testing the weight in his hand, Archy looked up from the makeshift weapon and smiled at his adversary.

  The Nivag seemed not to notice the crooked metal in Archy’s hand it scooped its leg across the floor to close him down again. Dropping enough weight at the last minute, Archy twisted and swung the crowbar fast through the air.

  As the Nivag reached striking distance, the hooked end of the bar struck hard into the boned side of its face. Archy heard the crack and watched as the creature spun on the spot and slammed hard into a support column to their side.

  Supporting its weight against the concrete pillar, the Nivag felt at its boned jaw with its skeletal fingers. Tracing along the lower jawbone, the jaw was loose, and with a gentle manipulation it dislodged from the face and fell into its hand.

  Staring at the snapped bone, the Nivag snatched its attention around to Archy and screamed.

  ‘Oh shit!’ Archy gasped as the monster now seemed full of rage.

  Tossing the broken jawbone to the floor, the Nivag rounded on Archy and stalked towards him.

  With the lower part of the boned face missing the creature looked even more terrifying. Top teeth remained in place with the tattered tongue hung out the side of its face, flapping as it walked.

  The Nivag tried to speak, but all it made were hissing and clicking noises as the words could not form with the bone missing.

  The Nivag was on Archy before he could launch another attack and he felt the bone wrap around his throat and lift him from the floor.

  Panic set in as his throat constricted beneath the vice-like grip. Dropping the crowbar to the floor, Archy fought to peel back the bone fingers but could find no purchase.

  Time passed slow as Archy felt his lungs begin to spasm in his chest. The edges of his vision darkened as the world closed in around him. His oxygen-starved brain played havoc with his fine motor skills, and his fingers could only fumble at the bone-gripping his neck.

  Everything faded.

  The sound of rain slamming into concrete got louder and then seemed to move away into the distance.

  ‘What the?’

  Archy heard the voice but could not place it, it sounded too distant and muffled to be recognisable.

  A strange sensation washed over Archy in an instant. Cold air passed down his bruised and swollen throat coupled with an overwhelming feeling of falling.

  It was as if he was sinking in water. When Archy came to a stop, he gasped for breath. With each inhale his vision cleared until he could make out two figures wrestling and jostling a little off to his side.

  ‘What is this thing Reg?’

  Reg.

  Who was Reg?

  Archy’s mind swam with confusion as the synapses sparked, fed once again by the flow of oxygen from his searing lungs.

  The name was familiar, Reg, but he could not place it.

  ‘Don’t just lay there, help me Reg!’

  It was Chris’ voice, and he remembered that he was Reg.

  ‘Get away from it,’ Archy tried to shout, but his voice was hoarse and dry from being throttled.

  ‘Please!’

  Unsteady on his feet Archy raised himself up and steadied himself against the wall by his side. Rubbing the bridge of his nose and shaking his head he tried to shift the clouds that fogged his brain. The world came into focus around him, and Archy could see the source of the commotion off to his side.

  The Nivag had pressed Chris back against the piled crates while the young soldier held the creature at bay with his rifle. Hands thrashing at Chris he kept the fearsome Nivag at bay with a look of pure fear painted on his young face.

  Seeing the soldier in peril washed away any confusion and fog from the attack and Archy sprung into action.

  Running across the slippery floor, Archy rugby tackled the Nivag off Chris and slammed it to the floor. A guttural scream filled the air as the Nivag thrashed underneath him.

  Archy wasted no time and rained a flurry of blows down on the Nivag. He felt his fist smash into the rancid flesh and solid bone on either side of the gruesome face. He could feel the creature thrash and writhe beneath him trying to unbalance Archy from on top.

  With a sudden flick of its bony hip, the Nivag unbalanced Archy and tossed him aside.

  The pair rolled across the floor and out into the exposed centre of the impressive fort. The rain had not abated, and it soaked both in a heartbeat. As the Nivag pinned him to the floor droplets of water dribbled along the exposed skull and dripped onto Archy’s face.

  ‘It’ll change nothing,’ Archy hissed as he struggled against the Nivag. ‘Your master is dead and whatever you do won’t bring her back.’

  The Nivag tried to answer with the same grotesque noises it had before.

  Chris leant against the crates staring out in disbelief at what he was seeing. The half-skeleton creature was like nothing he had ever seen before. Seeing Archy fighting against the monster filled him with disbelief, and he was struggling to compute what he was seeing.

  Archy knew it overpowered him. He was doing all he could to keep the snaking fingers from once again wrapping around his throat. With one hand he reached down to an ankle-holster that held a jagged dagger against his skin.

  Fingers fighting to gain a grip on the handle Archy twisted his body just enough to feel the grip in his palm and wrap his fingers around it. Pulling the blade from the sheath, Archy wasted no time in driving the knife into the side of the Nivag’s neck.

  It was unclear if the shriek that came from the Nivag was one of pain or surprise. Keeping his grip on the weapon, Archy pulled the head of the Nivag down as it tried to rear back against his attack.

  The Nivag thrashed, but the dagger remained wedge in place, secure
d between the lower vertebrates in its neck.

  Desperate to end the struggle Archy did the only thing he could think to maintain his control on the Nivag. Raising his second hand, he gripped the razor-sharp blade that protruded from the Nivag’s neck. He felt the cold steel dig into his flesh and grunted back the searing pain but held his grip.

  ‘Why... can’t... you... leave... me...’

  Archy pulled the Nivag down towards him and held the creature’s face against his own.

  ‘ALONE!’

  With all his strength Archy twisted the dagger around, and the knife sliced through the mottled flesh and snatched between the exposed bone. With a sickening crunch and snap the blade severed the head of the Nivag, and it detached from the body.

  Almost immediate the body went limp and slumped onto Archy while the severed head fell and rolled across the wet floor towards Chris.

  The head came to rest at the young soldier’s feet, and he stared down in complete shock and horror. The twisted, broken face of the demonic creature stared up at him.

  Casting aside the body of the Nivag, Archy stood and walked across to Chris.

  ‘Just what the hell is that thing?’ Chris stammered, his voice quaking.

  ‘Welcome to my world Chris, you may need a drink before I tell you everything.’

  ‘A big bloody drink.’

  ‘But before that, we need to get rid of it.’

  The pair looked at the two parts of the decapitated Nivag thoughtfully as the rain hammered down and the sky was once again bathed with a bright flash of lightning.

  22

  Blurring The Lines

  Logan stood in the open courtyard looking towards the bluff of rock atop which sat the outline of a long-disappeared building or courtyard. Mounted high upon the cliff the castle was open and exposed. The wind whipped through the gaps and cracks in the stone wall and Logan wrapped his arms across his chest to fight back against the early morning chill.

  It had been Vincenzo’s request they meet as the sun climbed above the horizon. A layer of glistening dew covered floor and Logan could see it was undisturbed. His own footprints were the only things that had disturbed the fine layer of water on the floor.