Eldritch Night

by J M Hamm

  I slowly pulled myself back to my feet and began to carefully shuffle towards the barricade. Each step was agony, like molten nails being driven into the marrow of my bones, but my cast and staff were sufficient to support my weight. Only a few minutes prior I had casually leaped to the top of the barricade, but now I was forced to accept Rachel’s help just to climb up.

  I felt embarrassed as she pulled me up the final few feet, but I quietly whispered, “thank you,” into her ear. She had gotten me where I needed to be.

  To my right stood Tiller, sparing only a casual glance and a nod in my direction before turning his attention – and revolver – back to the battle. Looking up I made out the form of Catayla lying prone on a support beam above the bridge, casually raining bullets upon the endlessly attacking masses. Her shots rang out in a constant beat, never missing or failing to kill their target.

  Beneath me, spread out an army. They had pushed through the other barricades, shoving aside cars and boulders. The stone golem could no longer be seen, a pile of concrete and rebar stood as a testament to its demise. The man with the fire axe, the one who had pulled me from the giant ants, had retreated to the top of the barricade — his axe still striking at anything foolish enough to get to close.

  It would be minutes before the defenders were overrun, perhaps sooner. I quickly reached out to the eldritch energy swarming above the battlefield. It leaped at my touch, eager to be shaped and molded into forms of murder. Despite the seemingly limitless shapes the energy could take, I had to be able to understand and clearly visualize what I wanted.

  Complex machinery was out, as was anything I couldn’t clearly imagine and hold in my mind. Things from my memory were better, as my Intellect stat would help me to visualize them. There was also a limit to the amount of energy I could command at once, and I imagined that there would be some mental fatigue as well.

  I searched through my memory for a form that was both simple and effective, something that I could form quickly and that would be easy to maintain. My mind quickly switched to memories of the old Civil War forts my father used to love bringing me to. Cannons were too complex, and I doubted I could make something like gunpowder — but after I dismissed that idea, I remembered the old fortifications my father had helped construct before his yearly reenactments.

  Simple wooden palisades made from sharpened logs lashed together with rope. I knew I could do something similar, it would be impossible to dig a trench, but I could anchor the wall of sharpened posts into the concrete and steel of the bridge itself.

  I willed the construction into existence, forcing the image onto the thick eldritch energy permeating the battlefield. Thick, sharp logs made of black misty energy grew up in front of the barricade like wild brambles. Posts three to four meters long pointed upwards, angled toward the horde of monsters. It wouldn’t completely stop them, but it would slow them down and buy the group of defenders time.

  I kept the image in my mind, focusing on the memories it was based on. I could feel a mental drain, but I could handle it. I could still form simple weapons, but it would be difficult to create anything as complex as a spell or further construction.

  I began to rain down javelins made of the black and crimson eldritch energy. Each projectile would quickly dissolve into smoke as it impaled its target, freeing my mind to concentrate on creating more spears. It was effective but slow. It was relieving some of the pressure on the defenders, but it was not a permanent solution. I needed something bigger, something that could affect the entire horde at once.

  Of my new Class Features, one stood out as being able to do so, but it was risky. I was hesitant to use such an unpredictable ability without first testing it in a more controlled environment. If I waited, however, I might not ever get that chance.

  The skill seemed to be a double-edged sword, just as likely to cut me and my allies as it was to hinder my enemies.

  Eye of Madness (0/10) Ⓛ- You have seen the terrifying truth of those that wait in the void. Your connection to the source of this maddening presence allows you to tear back the fabric of reality and see the hidden, terrifying truths that lie beneath. Overuse will burn this terror into your mind, risking your sanity — skill level and Focus will reduce this risk.

  Alternate use: You can create an aura around yourself that shares this truth with your enemies, filling their minds with terror and possibly causing them to go berserk. You must confront the truth you share, but your allies will be spared — save those for whom you hold hidden malice.

  Using the Class Feature’s ability to see the truth seemed dangerous, as an entire army of eldritch abominations was likely to overburden my mind, and my low skill level and Focus meant that I risked permanent madness. I gave that a hard pass, but the alternate use had some potential if the aura didn’t grow too large.

  It would likely take me out of the fight, but it would also reduce the ability of the monsters to defend themselves and if they started going berserk and attacking their allies? Well, all the better.

  I closed my eyes, and slowly released madness around me in a vortex of swirling energy that invaded the minds of all it touched.

  Chapter Twenty-four: A Bridge Too Far

  The Eye of Madness opened.

  I stood at the center of this vortex of madness. All eyes were drawn towards me as my reality shaped theirs. It was no more than was my due. But was it? Who was I?

  I was one who saw the truth, a truth my enemies were forced to experience with me. Each of them was nothing more than a tiny extension of something much greater. They were nothing more than a few loose skin cells casually shed without care or notice. All their hunger and rage was meaningless before their true purpose.

  I saw the birth of planets and great civilizations, only for those civilizations to gradually fade and die, slowly being replaced over time. Entire solar systems perish as stars expanded before collapsing into planet destroying supernovas that could be seen from half a universe away. It was awesome in its scale, and terrifying in the realization of how small these events were in the eyes of the universe.

  I saw the great expanse of time and space, every possible action repeated over and over unendingly. Two universes born in an instant, twin bubbles rising through an infinite ocean. Each bubbled twinned, but time and matter flowing in opposite directions.

  Both the past and future were infinite, a loop, and yet more existed beyond these measurements. Other dimensions existed outside of our own, some far older and with native intelligences so alien, powerful, and malignant as to be unfathomable.

  Then I saw the silent waiting forms for whom these events and creatures were but cosmic specs of dust. The lifespan of our universes was but the blink of an eye compared to these eternal beings. They were terrible and frightening, not because they held malice — but for the complete lack of regard they held for anything as insignificant as human life.

  Even entire universes were little more than baubles to be squandered and bartered for the true rulers of the cosmos. Worse than their cold indifference was the chance that one might turn their attention towards you — a momentary amusement.

  I saw myself staring into a burning eye called to witness the end of a world. Something stared back. The gaze lasted only for a moment, but events were set into motion that could not be avoided. I saw the true enemy, and I understood the utter insignificance of my own existence.

  To resist was unavoidable, and yet pointless.

  ***

  I felt a strike across my face.

  “Finn,” said a familiar voice laced with sobs. “Snap out of it.”

  I held my hands in front of my face, fingernails dripping with blood. Deep gauges had been dug into my forehead and cheeks, tears and blood ran down my face. My eyes were dry, and my skin felt hot. I tried to answer but could only cough, my throat burning and dry.

  I breathed in short, shallow bursts while collapsing to my knees in despair. I squeezed my eyes shut as if trying to hold back the images. I couldn’t bea
r them, and yet I couldn’t forget them. The vision had been permanently burned into my memory – not only unforgettable but unable to be repressed or ignored.

  “Finn,” Rachel’s voice called out to me. “We need to get out of here.”

  I looked up to see Rachel and Tiller standing over me. Someone had carried me down off the barricade and leaned me up against a group of stacked cars.

  After a few moments, I finally pushed myself up, my legs shaking as Rachel put her shoulder under my arm for support. My conjured cast was completely gone, and in a moment of panic, I realized the palisades I had constructed would be gone as well.

  “Is everyone okay?” I asked.

  I the sounds of battle had grown even fiercer than before. Screams mixed with the echoing barks of gunfire and the clangs of metal weapons.

  “I think so,” Tiller said. “Whatever you did caused everything to go crazy. Those monsters went berserk, started tearing each other apart. Others charged the barrier, ignoring every injury like they’d gone mad.”

  “Your spiked wall is gone,” added Rachel. “A bunch of those … things, they just mindlessly impaled themselves, but it didn’t take them long to smash through.”

  She looked at me for a moment, peeking out from beneath my arm. She briefly pulled away from before hugging me with arms that barely reached around my chest.

  “You were babbling and screaming the whole time, I thought something was really wrong with you. I tried singing again, but it didn’t help, and my mana was already almost gone. I’m … just. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I smiled. “You saved me more than once today, all of us really.”

  She smiled back releasing me from her bear hug, still leaving one arm under my shoulder to support my weight.

  “Oh,” said Rachel holding one hand up to her chest. “Your bird, Finn, I am so sorry. He’s…”

  “Eaten,” finished Tiller.

  “Eaten?” I said. I reached out through my connection to the Fisher before saying more. “He’s fine. In fact, whatever ate him is probably having a bit of indigestion right about now.”

  My bond to the dark companion had grown stronger. The creature itself had gotten some fancy new upgrades, as well, due to another of my new class features – Dark Gemini. I wasn’t sure how useful it would be just yet, but the description was promising.

  Dark Gemini Ⓛ - You have gained insight into the true nature of your Dark Companion. It is now truly a part of you, a twin born from your shattered psyche. It can no longer hide from or deceive you, but no longer can you deny it its rightful place in your mind. As long as you live, your Dark Gemini cannot be truly killed.

  Having absorbed a piece of your adaptability, the Dark Gemini has gained complete control of its form. Furthermore, as the twin to your own soul, you now share a mana pool with your Dark Gemini and it can cast any spell you know.

  It wasn’t the most impressive of my new abilities, but it did significantly reduce the risk of the creature I had once considered a parasite. The ability to share mana and spells was also potentially powerful. It could double my firepower, even allowing me to focus on melee combat while my twin cast spells.

  Despite this, I was still hesitant to trust the creature — even if it did claim to be me. Hell, that made me trust it even less.

  “The defenders can’t hold out much longer,” Tiller said. “Catayla is doing something to blow the bridge. We are supposed to fall back and make sure the way is clear so everyone else can haul ass.”

  Tiller seemed more detached than usual. He was hesitant as if he was torn between leaving or staying. He kept glancing back at the battle his hand clenching and unclenching on his revolver. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to join the battle or if he was just lamenting the loss of a chance to do more research.

  Rachel, however, had truly surprised me. It didn’t seem like that long ago that I had had to send Tiller to find her as she hid from combat. Black, runny lines of mascara still stained her face. Yet now, she had a certain determination to her. Perhaps she had found her courage during the battle — or she had found something to fight for.

  “All right,” I said. “I trust Catayla knows what she’s doing.”

  It took me only a moment to reform the cast around my shattered ankle, though it took considerably more effort this time. I suspected constructing anything as large as a palisade would be above my abilities, at least in the short-term.

  “Did anything get past us?” I asked. “The bridge should be pretty much clear in this direction, right?”

  “A big part of the horde broke off to the Northeast, they may cross up there and circle back south. We’re still not sure what those pterodactyls will do. Whatever you did seems not to have affected them, so far. Probably just waiting to feast from the carrion, but I can’t be sure.”

  “Can you walk?” asked Rachel.

  “I’ll manage,” I said. “It’s painful, but I can move on my own.”

  “All right,” said Tiller. “When Catayla gives the signal, they’ll be coming for us like a bat out of hell, demons hot on their tails. Literally in this case.”

  We began sprinting back towards the city. It was difficult, but I manage to keep up despite my crippled leg. Under ideal circumstances, I would have been faster than either of them. I had the highest physical stats in the trio. Tiller, however, was able to avoid obstacles with a gymnast like grace that allowed him to easily take the lead.

  Our run didn’t take long, and we didn’t find any trouble along the way. Slowly, we made our way down the debris-ridden ramp at the end of the bridge and took cover behind the overturned frame of an old sedan.

  “So, what’s the signal?” I asked.

  “No idea,” said Tiller.

  I looked at Rachel, but she just shook her head to indicate she didn’t know either.

  “I imagine we’ll know it when we …” began Tiller.

  A bright flash preceded a shockwave and a large plume of smoke. The entire bridge vibrated, but it still held. The groaning of the high-tension wires was followed by deafening cracks as the first wire snapped. The bridge began to sway.

  “If that’s the signal,” said Rachel. “Then I hate to see what the actual explosion is going to look like.”

  “Baddasses never see explosions,” said Tiller.

  “What?” Rachel and I said together.

  “Too busy walking away in slow motion.”

  The groans were left unsaid, but the momentary silence and empty stares communicated our feelings well, I think.

  “You’ve been holding on to that one for a while, haven’t you?” Rachel asked Tiller.

  “Maybe for a bit …” he admitted.

  “Alright, you guys. Pre-fight banter concluded?” I asked. “They’re going to come charging down that ramp at any second and we need to be ready when they do.”

  It wasn’t long before my prediction came true. A dozen bridge guards, Catayla and Worthy leading the way, came rushing down the ramp. Tiller was already firing, not worrying about friendly fire as his shots unerringly flew past fleeing guards to strike the targets behind them. The speed and accuracy of his shots were poetic, some shots came within inches of striking an ally but somehow his bullets always found a path to their intended target.

  As the group of guards reached us, they split up to take cover. I began to use Arcane Missiles to take out pursuing creatures while Tiller continued to blast everything that came even remotely close to one of our allies.

  Rachel held a gun at her side but hadn’t started firing. Instead, she was humming a gentle tune that seemed to soothe my aches and cleared my mind. The effects were minor, maybe even a placebo, but it was enough to give me confidence. Rachel never faltered or turned away from the fight.

  “Everyone down!” yelled Catayla.

  She pulled out a disk that looked exactly like the communication device she had given to me after we first met. I tensed as she pressed down the button in the center of the device. Instead of th
e high-intensity blast I had braced for, there was a long sequence of pops — sounding more like fireworks than high-grade demolition charges.

  Almost immediately, I could hear sharp cracks and the screeching sound of metal on metal. The remaining suspension cables all began to give out at the same time. The bridge collapse into the river beneath it, creating waves that rose up above the narrow beach.

  A strong wind washed over me bringing with it a cloud of dust and powdered concrete that obscured my vision.

  “Get ready,” I said. “Here they come.”

  Chapter Twenty-five: The Prodigal Abomination Returns

  It’s almost peaceful, those still moments before battle. It’s like watching dominos lined up in perfect order, each small rectangle fitting into its perfectly measured place before the world explodes into motion and noise as everything draws to its inevitable conclusion — entropy in motion.

  I closed my eyes, visualizing everything that would come. My pulse slowed as I focused on my breathing, reaching out to energy that surrounded me. I exhaled, my eyes opening to a world in motion.

  The dominos were charging, lining up in perfect lines. They wailed, lashing out with angry roars and the cracking cacophony of claw and steel cutting into concrete. I extended my staff before me, as a thin silver chain unwound from my forearm.

  Let them come. Was the thought my own, did it matter?

  The Eye had closed, its heat still burning on my forehead, but a bit of the madness remained. It showed me how each seemingly random motion was an inevitable cascade of preordained events.

  Nothing mattered, not even the blood I would spill or the pain I saw in my future. It was there, a cloud of darkness hanging over myself – unseeable but felt in vivid hues of agony and defeat. But not today.

  Today I fought.

  The small horde charged down a narrow ramp, pushing aside debris and rebar lined holes Several of them stumbled as paw or foot was caught in a pit and the creatures behind refused to stop, pushing and clawing past their comrades.