Born of Hatred

by Steve McHugh

  I turned as a second creature dove toward me. A blast of air magic knocked it backwards. I solidified the air, just enough to entangle the creature and then flipped it up, over my head and released the magic as the two attackers neared one another. They both went down hard, eerie shrieks leaving inhuman mouths as they scrambled to get back to their feet.

  "What the fuck are they?" Olivia gasped.

  "Ghouls," I said, but before I could finish, Olivia emptied a clip into the nearest bald-headed bastard. It dropped back to the floor, and its comrade performed something akin to a smile, its jaw dislocating and dropping open to show rows of razor sharp teeth as Peter, the lich, laughed.

  A second later shots rang out from behind us and Agent Reid ran past, shooting the whole time with his Glock. Each bullet hit the lich in the chest, but he didn't go down. He turned on his heel and ran into the darkness of the streets beyond, the ghoul who used to be Vicki right behind him. I tried to call out to stop Reid but he didn't hear me and sprinted after the lich, following him around a corner and out of sight.

  I hoped he'd be able to hold his own, but I knew from experience that a lich could carve through most people like they were made of paper.

  The ghoul on the floor stayed still for a moment, and then laughed, returning my attention to it. The sound was horrible, nowhere near the laugh of the human it used to be. It got back to its feet and spat onto the floor, and the sound of the bullets and blood hitting the concrete floor turned Olivia's face pale.

  "What the hell," she whispered and reloaded her gun.

  "Only way to kill them is to cut their head off," I said. "Magic won't work either, so I need you to go get some silver daggers or swords or something. Because right now the best we can do is knock them down."

  "I can't leave you out here," she said.

  The first ghoul dove toward me and met a torrent of fire, keeping both it and its brethren away. "Magic will hurt them, but not kill them. I'll be fine, but unless we get something to cut them, we're both screwed."

  Olivia watched in horror as one of the ghouls jumped through the fire. "Go already," I shouted and slammed another jet of fire into the ghoul, which drove it back.

  Olivia turned and sprinted into the police station, and I killed the flames. I couldn't have kept it up all night, and, if I was honest, I had no idea how much magic I had left in me after what had happened at the fight a few hours earlier. Or how long before what was inside of me tried to come out, and then... well, and then, things would get a hell of a lot worse.

  The first of the two ghouls was allowing its flesh to knit back together, the bullets had all been centre mass and had made quite a mess. It would be out of the fight for a few minutes, but the second showed no signs of damage from the fire I'd slammed into it.

  It growled and all six feet of dark leathery skin, shrieked into the night. At one point it had been human, but dark, evil magic had changed all of that. The proportions were all nearly human, except for the stomach, which was sunken under the ribcage and the arms, which were long enough that the creature could easily walk on all-fours. The fingernails were razor sharp, and its mouth contained venom that would paralyse with one bite. If it bit me I could expect a slow death, fully aware of everything as it ate me. If it bit a human... that was a whole different world of nasty.

  Even after their death and re-birth as monsters, they retain their human level intelligence. And although their blood lust takes over when given the opportunity, they're more than capable of calculated thought. It makes them incredibly dangerous opponents.

  "Let's get to it then."

  The ghoul charged, and I dodged the swipe from its claws with ease, but the ghoul backed me up against a car. I planted my hands on the car and vaulted back and up onto the roof as the ghoul imbedded its hands in the car's bonnet. He tried to pull himself free, but couldn't. He was stuck up to his elbows, his hands jammed somewhere in the engine itself.

  I rolled off the car and sprinted at the first ghoul, which had managed to knit its chest back together. I slammed a fist of air into its temple, dropping it back to the floor. It kicked out at me, and caught my knee, almost sending me to join it on the floor, but I rolled with the blow and came up near another car.

  It wasted no time and swiped at me. I ducked, and punched my fist into its chest before unleashing a ball of fire which picked the ghoul up off its feet and dumped it several yards away from me.

  It gave me a moment to rub my sore knee until the ghoul got back to its feet and shrieked at its still stuck friend. "You guys ready?" I asked.

  The free ghoul came at me once more, but this time it feinted with a swipe, and caught me with a kick to the stomach. I staggered back and tried to roll out of the ghoul's reach, but it was instantly upon me. It grabbed my throat and squeezed before slamming my head into the cars headlight, which snapped from the impact.

  I drove a blade of air through its chest and the ghoul released me long enough to allow me to punch it in the face with another air-wrapped fist. I used the time to roll back to my feet, but the ghoul I'd last seen stuck inside a car engine barrelled into me, and tossed me back onto the car bonnet. My head and elbow struck the glass windscreen and the ghoul jumped on my chest, it's mouth and dozens of tiny shark sharp teeth inching ever closer until I tapped further into my magic and a small tornado smashed into its chest, flinging it off me.

  Fighting one on one with a ghoul was hard enough, especially without a weapon, but now that they were both free I was in all kinds of trouble.

  I slid off the car's bonnet, and was almost skewered by the claws of the second ghoul, but I dodged and caught it in the throat with a vicious elbow, followed up with a kick to the knee and punch to the face which took it to the concrete.

  I moved away to catch my breath and readied myself for another round of the unwinnable. As much as I was doing okay, it wouldn't last. They were already dead and didn't need to refill their energy. They just kept going until they couldn't go any further, unlike me who had a finite amount of magic to use before I became exhausted. Or worse.

  "Nate," Olivia shouted. She ran past me wielding a large machete.

  "Where'd that come from?" I asked.

  "Greaves had it in his car."

  "Did you bring back-up?"

  "The guards are keeping Neil company. Greaves is changing."

  On cue, a werewolf in beast form, large and grey, charged past Olivia and dove onto the nearest ghoul, the one I'd used a tornado on. He tore into it with vigour, ripping huge chunks out of its chest. The second ghoul glanced back at his comrade's predicament and decided that Olivia and I were an easier bet. He shrieked and ran at Olivia. She swung the machete, but the ghoul ducked under it, bending himself into a position that would have been impossible for anyone alive.

  I was too far away, and couldn't get to them in time, couldn't stop the ghoul from planting one hand on the ground and spinning up behind Olivia. It landed on her back and sank its teeth into her shoulder.

  I was still moving toward them when the ghoul released Olivia and threw her at me, the machete clattering to the ground as I caught her and took her momentum, rolling us both between two parked cars. The ghoul didn't attack me, didn't take the advantage, he went after Greaves.

  Olivia convulsed beside me as the venom started its job of paralysing her. Blood soaked her shirt, and I glanced over at Greaves expecting to see the agent fighting both ghouls. But Greaves hadn't reacted in time to fight them both. The creature that had bitten Olivia had his hands deep inside the agent's back as the ghoul beneath Greaves tore into his stomach, exposing intestine as blood poured over both of his attackers.

  The machete was thirty feet away, the silver gleaming in the moonlight. I went for it, but one of the ghouls got there first and flung it into the night before rejoining his comrade who was still tearing into Greaves.

  A crescendo of white hot hatred coursed through me as orange glyphs burned brightly across my arms.

  The ghouls both stopped
their fun and turned toward me. And laughed.

  I lost my temper.

  A stream of white hot fire caught the first ghoul in the chest and punched a hole through him like he was made of butter. The ghoul screamed, which made his comrade edge away, fear on his twisted face for the first time.

  I removed the stream of fire and a black tar-like substance leaked from the ghoul's wound as he crashed to the ground, placing his hand out in front of him to steady his fall. The stream of fire morphed into a whip, one flick of which removed the ghoul’s hand. He fell face-first onto the concrete with another scream.

  The second ghoul turned to me, looked down at his fallen friend and ran like his life depended on it.

  I walked steadily toward the downed ghoul and noticed that Greaves' injuries were already healing; he'd live.

  I grabbed the back of the injured ghouls head, holding it still as I incinerated it until there was nothing left above its neck.

  My brain said – It shouldn't have worked, I shouldn't have been able to kill it. Magic won't kill ghoul, just like it shouldn't have let me heal from my silver wound so quickly during my fight with Randal. I turned and saw the trail of flame footsteps I'd made on the concrete floor. I walked over to Olivia and checked for her vitals, and was relieved to find a strong pulse. She was paralysed and needed medical attention, but she would live. I glanced over at the dead ghoul and for the second time that night one thought bounced around in my head. What the hell was happening to me?

  Chapter 20

  Montana Territory, America. 1878

  Mapiya, Sam and Chief Blacktail all walked into the fort to talk, leaving me outside surrounded by a dozen highly tense Crow tribe warriors. I got the feeling they were all looking for a reason to try and put me down, so I found a nice spot in the yard next to one of the cannons, rested up against a wooden beam and tried to get some sleep. They weren't about to kill a sleeping man, and I wasn't about to let them think I was nervous about them being there.

  I didn't manage to doze off, but I did manage to get a few minutes to myself to try and figure out what the hell was going on.

  A few years earlier Merlin had sent me to Mexico to find a book, telling me it would be an easy assignment. Turns out he'd been wrong. The journey from Spain to Mexico had been an easy one, which alone should have told me that things were going to get bad. The fact that the book hadn't been in Mexico at all wasn't the most auspicious start. And since then I'd followed its trail all the way north.

  Merlin had told me that the book contained some pretty powerful magic, but as far as I was concerned, it had better reveal the secrets of life. Anything less than that and I was not going to be happy.

  There hadn't been much weird stuff happening on my journey, right up until I reached Montana. Then, it was as if all the weird shit happened at once. Deputies chasing a boy through the woods at night, an empty ranch, horses that had been ripped apart and eaten, a ranch owner butchered, and now, after all of that, an abandoned U.S. Army fort. The bad feeling in the pit of my gut was getting worse with every passing hour. I needed to finish my job and get out of this damn state.

  Fuck you, Merlin. It was a thought that was coming more and more easily to me over the centuries. Whatever vision he and I had shared when I first joined him was slowly eroding. But that was a problem for another time.

  Then there was Sam. Someone had murdered his dad, and then tried to kill him. There had to be a reckoning for that, and if I didn't help, Sam would get himself killed. Merlin always said that my conscience got me into trouble. And, he had a fair point. Didn’t mean I planned on changing anytime soon.

  "Who are you?" The voice belonged to Mapiya. I opened my eyes and spent a few seconds drinking in her beauty under the guise of waking up.

  "I told you who I am," I said.

  "Why are you here? In Montana? The real reason."

  "Followed an artifact from Mexico, and, it seems to have passed quite a few hands on the way here. Everyone who handled it is dead. The exception to that rule being whoever has it now."

  "It's a book, about so thick." Mapiya moved her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. "It contains bad things. Really bad things."

  I stared at the women next to me for a moment. "I’m almost certain that you’re not human, so what are you?"

  "Necromancer," she said after a moment's hesitation.

  "Can I assume that whatever is in that book relates to your abilities?"

  Another hesitation. "What do you know about ghouls?"

  "They are men or women who were corrupted by dark, blood magic. They have a venomous bite that paralyses and turns a human in the barren. They're fast, strong and very dangerous."

  "They're rare. And they're behind the attack on the people of this fort and the ranch."

  "You sure, Mapiya?"

  "Sky," she said.

  I tried my best not to look confused.

  "It's my name," she continued. "Mapiya is a Sioux name; it means Sky."

  I smiled. "So, Sky, how many of these ghouls are there?

  "Up to six."

  I got the impression there was more to it than she was willing to share, but I didn't want to push too soon.

  "And your employer would be?"

  Sky smiled, it was sly and somehow made her more attractive. "You first."

  I shook my head. "Can't, sorry."

  "Then you have your answer."

  "Secrets aside, it's beginning to appear like as if you and I have the same agenda. To find out what's happening here, and stop it."

  "I thought you wanted the book?" she said with that same sly grin.

  "Yeah, well if there's ghouls involved, they need stopping. I've never encountered them before, but something weird is definitely going on here. When that happens, I usually like to find out what it is. One question though, why kill the ranch owner? And why so violently? You only kill like that either to send a message, or because you hate the person."

  Sky pondered my words for a few moments before responding. "Someone at the nearest town, Kilnhurst, might know. Although, I don't trust anyone in that damned place, so I wouldn't expect the information to come easily."

  "I need to talk to Sam, and then I'll make my way there. Alone."

  "And what if I say no?"

  "You won't. There's another fort west of here, take Sam and go check it out. I'm hoping the fort there hasn't been attacked. If everyone is still in once piece there, they might know more about what the hell is going on."

  "Sounds like as good a plan as any."

  "What can you tell me about this Kilnhurst?"

  "About a thousand people live there, but there are many more who are just passing through. The sheriff is a vicious killer and his deputies are not much better. Something about the place makes my skin crawl. I think it's safe to say that they hate me. Even more than the usual shit I get when I go into a town, though a young woman with my heritage always raises whispers and stolen glances."

  "Maybe they're jealous," I pointed out. "Or they find you irresistible and can barely contain their desire for you."

  "Or they hate and fear me because they're a bunch of small-minded idiots."

  "Or that." I said and we both laughed. "The Chief doesn't trust me."

  "You're an outsider in a time when his people are being killed and abused, while justice is in short supply. He doesn't trust anyone he doesn't know."

  "He trusts you."

  "The Crow Tribe and I go a long way back."

  I digested the information as Sam raced around the corner, almost running into one of the cannons, before skidding to a halt in front of Sky and me. "Chief Blacktail wants to talk to you," he said to me.

  I stood and brushed loose dirt from my trousers. "We need to have a talk of our own," I said to Sam, and walked off to find the Chief.

  Blacktail had set himself up in the fort's large dining room. Lamps burned brightly on the walls, but the six Crow warriors still did their best to appear inconspicuous. They stayed far
enough from their Chief to appear unthreatening, but close enough that they could get to an attacker in a heartbeat. One of the men casually held a bow, an arrow already nocked. The Chief sat at one of two long tables eating an apple. He gestured for me to sit opposite him, which I did with a nod of gratitude.

  "We found this." Chief Blacktail signalled to one of the warriors who brought forward a cavalry sabre stained red with blood. "It was in the barracks, which appear to have been the centre of a large fight."

  "Any other traces of the soldiers?"

  Chief Blacktail shook his head. "Some blood, though not enough to cause a man to die. They were all taken by monsters of the night, I already know this. They're dead now, there's little chance of any other result. I requested your presence so that we can discuss this." A second warrior placed a tomahawk on the table in front of me. It was identical to the one I'd found in the barn, except it lacked any blood on the blade or feathers.

  "Was this found in the fort?" I asked.

  "Imbedded in the timber outside this room. Someone is trying to make stupid people believe we are involved in these massacres."

  "I suspect you weren't meant to find the weapon, nor was I. Someone will probably visit the fort tomorrow morning. The same will be true of the ranch. My guess is this visitor will be involved with the killers. They were meant to discover the tomahawks as proof of the crimes committed in these places. To draw attention away from themselves and put it on people who some are still suspicious of."

  "That sounds true enough. Bring him out," he added with a glance over his shoulder. One of the Chief's guards exited through a set of double doors, returning a moment later, pushing a handcuffed man in front of him. The newcomer was a head taller than the warrior, but the fear in his eyes was easy to see. Or rather, eye. The left one was swollen shut, and blood stained his blue shirt from a cut on his lip. Bruises adorned both sides of his face, and he walked with an obviously painful limp.

  A deputy badge shone proudly on his lapel. We were heading into very dangerous waters and I hesitated to voice my concern. "You beat up a deputy," I said. "That's got all kinds of trouble in it for you."