Eldritch Night

by J M Hamm

  With determination born out of desperation, I took control of each strand of the eldritch energy within my body and began to guide it into my left leg. It responded immediately, and each thread quickly began to unravel. I just wasn’t sure if I would be quick enough. My breathing was already beginning to grow heavy and a flashing display warned me that my stamina was almost gone.

  My stomach tightened as I watched the numbers slowly depleting. At most, I had a minute. Less if I was forced to take any actions besides running. My Physical Fitness skill allowed me to stretch my stamina, but it would be next to useless in actual combat.

  I had begun to lay lines of spikes behind me, but they were smashed apart almost as quickly as they formed. The unending horde of tank-sized monsters no longer tried to avoid them. A few died or were crippled as the spikes impaled and tore at flesh, but there were always more to fill their place and they kept coming as if rage had completely overtaken their survival instinct. Each broken palisade tore at my concentration, as my mind struggled to maintain the broken shapes.

  The king led the pack, urging them onward with his roars without ever slowing his pursuit. At least he no longer led his pack towards Telvy and her sister. I just had to hold out long enough. Telvy had claimed to only need a few minutes but I’d long since lost track of how much time was remaining.

  A dark part of me called out to face my pursuers. It whispered promises of victory … if I would only give in. The power to crush my enemies like ants existed for the taking. The calls were seductive, but I couldn’t trust them. The Fisher, and whatever had spawned him, was just as likely to laugh as the behemoths trampled me as it was to actually help.

  No, I had to do this alone.

  Creating the spikes while also drawing as much energy into my leg as possible took too much focus to try anything else with the energy, despite how thick it was this close to the edge of the dome. I had yet to touch my mana, however, and the system dictated spells were mostly point-and-shoot. They were much like macros, producing a complicated but predetermined output from a simple command.

  The system spells might not be as powerful or versatile as what I could already do with Eldritch Mimicry, but they were all I had. I aimed at the ground directly beneath me and used Tanglefoot bolstered by Wild Growth to create a wall of brambles in an attempt to slow my pursuer.

  Twisting vines covered in hooked thorns burst from the ground behind me. I heard an angry roar as the thunderous steps of the Behemoth King faltered. I sacrificed a tiny amount of speed by turning to look behind me. Bits of torn vine still covered in thorns clinked against my armor and I was forced to dive into a roll to avoid a boulder covered in dirt.

  The Behemoth King was already moving as if he’d never been slowed. Vines were still growing upward around his legs and tightening around his torso. Lines of blood seeped from where black thorns had punctured his hide. Behind him, he dragged a large clump of dirt held together by roots.

  I tried again, this time not taking the time to look back. Again, the creature ripped through the barrier as if it were tissue paper. Its feet struck the earth in a drumming of heavy beats that never slowed or faltered. It would have been just as useful had I gift wrapped myself for the creature in the hope that it would give up and go away.

  At least I drew blood, I thought to myself as I prepared the spell for the third time.

  My mana was almost completely drained when the king tore through my final barrier. The King Behemoth roared, perhaps in pain, but the steady beat of his clawed feet never slowed. The horde of smaller beasts had split again to flank me on each side. If I slowed or faltered, they’d quickly surround me.

  I came to a dead stop, pivoting to the left as my heel dug into the dirt. I transferred as much momentum as I could into immediately leaping into a sprint. The king left a long divot in the earth as he tried to turn but still overshot me as it swung around in a wide turn. It bought me time, but I doubted I’d widened my lead by even a full second.

  At the same time, I created a line of spike behind me and to the left. The palisades appeared too quickly for the herd to turn and many impaled themselves before being stomped on by those immediately behind them. This created chaos as the bodies piled, but the king smashed through everything, barely slowing.

  Just a little bit more.

  I had been running for less than ten seconds at this point, but I could already feel a familiar tingling at the nape of my neck that I had learned to associate with immediate danger. I’d only had time to gather roughly half of my eldritch energy into my left leg, but it would have to be enough.

  God, this better work, I thought.

  I allowed what energy I could to seep into the muscles of my legs. By concentrating on the energy, I could ‘see’ the internal workings of my leg as if my flesh was as clear as glass and each cell were coated in a glowing dye. I slowly moved the energy where it needed to be. It began to copy the shape and motion of each muscle as if it knew what I wanted.

  As my left foot came down upon the earth, I could feel the muscles in my leg bunch and shorten. I could see every action in my mind’s eye, in perfect detail. As my foot pushed against the ground the muscles in my thighs and calves pushed against it and I allowed the eldritch energy to follow in a short, experimental burst.

  I felt an eruption of pain in my hips and knee, though my ankle held up remarkably well. I looked down and saw the ground growing steadily further away. I was high enough that I could see over the wall of spikes to my left and make out the horde of clamoring beasts that had almost caught up to me again on the other side.

  I enjoyed a brief moment of weightlessness as I seemed to float above the ground. The feeling soon fled, however, and I found myself violently plunging towards the grassy, hoof marked earth.

  I landed on both feet, creating two long lines leading to a small crater where I finally came to a stop. The jump had worked. I had gained a lead on the pursuing behemoths, but I had completely lost all momentum. The king was already at my back and swiping at me as I fell into a roll. I could almost feel its yellowed claws brush against my back.

  “Dammit!” I yelled in frustration.

  The next jump would probably do real damage to my leg and it had to carry me much further if I expected to outdistance my pursuers. I ran as fast as I could, giving a small thump of energy every time my left leg pushed against the earth. This increased my speed somewhat, but the sounds of pursuit continued to grow closer.

  The king seemed to have the ability to spur his herd on, increasing their speed and anger the longer the chase lasted. Once I reached my top speed, I began to prepare my mind for a final leap. I delayed only long enough to examine the energy and muscles of my leg a final time as I ran through a mental ‘trial’ jump. I needed to get it just right and couldn’t afford to rush it — even with thousands of pounds of flesh and horn close at my heels.

  As my right foot came down all of my attention shifted to the energy that was building in my left leg. One more step …

  Every one of the beasts turned at the same moment, each aiming directly for the conjured walls of spikes I had been maintaining as I ran. The eldritch construct exploded inward, causing both of the lines to weaken as a cascade of chain reactions ran through them. A jolt of pain ran up my spine and into my skull, and the backlash caused me to momentarily stumble.

  I didn’t fall but I missed my timing and was unable to leap. The energy in my leg had compressed into a tight coil waiting to spring — thousands of pounds of kinetic energy with nowhere to go.

  As this was happening, an impaled behemoth that had broken through my wall fell to its stomach and slid directly in front of me. Rather than stop, I ran over it while planning to use its raised hide as a jumping off point to begin my leap. Roars filled the air with enough force to rattle my bones and cause my ears to ring.

  I could feel their eagerness and rage, but I smiled in triumph.

  As I reached the highest point of the mound of flesh and fur my foot bega
n to come down, the coiled energy frantic to be released. I was already mentally celebrating when I felt something heavy hit me from below followed and heard the sound of cracking bones. I was flying forward but up and down lost all reference as the world tumbled around me.

  I felt no pain, just a warm numbness that spread over my entire body. My vision was beginning to grow red and my thinking became hazy as if too much had gone wrong for me to comprehend it. I do vaguely remember thinking that it was all finally over.

  I’d only needed a moment more.

  My flight was brought short far quicker than seemed possible. I looked down in confusion and saw the tip of a large horn protruding from the flesh between my right shoulder and chest. Why can’t I feel it?

  I felt like a bystander. That couldn’t be my chest. I tried to fight, to pull free, but my strength had drained, and my right arm refused to move. The Behemoth King began to shake its head furiously and I slid further down the horn. I could taste my own blood as I heard my bones cracking and the wet sounds of flesh tearing.

  Eventually, my screams faded away and I hung loosely, not tired just completely unable to move. I was shaken and flung side to side before the behemoth tore me loose and sent me tumbling across the ground with a single flick of its head. Blood pooled around me, and an army of beasts circled me like children forming around a schoolyard fight.

  I hung onto consciousness by giving myself a simple goal. One action that I would take before slipping into oblivion. My entire life I had held back my anger. Now, with the Fisher’s influence constantly in the back of my mind, I fought every emotion. I was never sure what anger, hatred or even despair was my own, so I repressed it all.

  Not this time.

  Here, as my life bled out beneath me, a terrible rage grew in my heart. It was like a tiny spark was given fuel and had quickly morphed into a raging inferno. A primal need for vengeance tore at me and took control. It was almost comforting to know how things would end. I wasn’t going out alone.

  I closed my eyes and focused on the eldritch energy that was still tightly coiled in my left leg, drawing in more until it felt like a reactor at critical mass. I could see it struggling to burst free, my dwindling will the only thing holding the explosive energy back.

  As my mind cleared, time seemed to begin to move more quickly. I could feel the inevitability as the King Behemoth slowly meandered over to me. It came to a stop when its face was directly above me, and it twisted its head down to poke me with a blood-stained horn.

  The world became a chorus of cheering roars and growls.

  The king pulled its horn away from me and lifted its head into a mighty roar that echoed between the fog topped hills. The cry was mighty enough that I could feel it in my bones. The other behemoths quieted, each bending its head down to touch the ground. This might have filled me with fear if it wasn’t exactly what I had been waiting for.

  My eyes snapped upward, and a brief flash of a smile played itself across my lips. The creature was not even looking at me; its eyes were closed as its maw was raised upward towards the heavens.

  I would help it to get closer.

  I spent the last bit of stamina I had left to jump up to my feet. As I turned my body, I could feel my right arm hanging at my side. The position seemed off somehow, but I ignored it. All of my concentration was focused on my leg as it soared upwards towards the Behemoth King's unguarded head. The kick was a normal one, but just before I made contact, I released all the energy that had been building up inside the leg.

  A powerful impact pushed me backward, flattening the earth beneath me. I think I was on my back, but I could only see blood as it seeped into my eyes. I could feel it everywhere, warm and somehow sweet as it poured into my open mouth.

  I couldn’t feel most of my body. My left arm seemed to be the only thing that could move, but when I reached upwards, I felt something massive pinning my chest to the ground. It was warm, unmovable and covered in a surprisingly soft coat of fur.

  I really did take it out with me, I thought.

  Maybe I would have laughed in final triumph, but my lungs refused to take in air and my vision was beginning to fade. My last thoughts were of Telvy and Shora. I hoped I’d at least bought them enough time.

  Chapter Forty-five: A Pound of Flesh

  I expected to wake to the grey confines of a Peacekeeper prison. Instead, I found that I was still trapped under a sky filled with winding golden runes. Behind the runes, black clouds spun in a turbulent sky full of crackling flickers punctuated by booming thunder and the stabbing blades of crimson lightning. The wind had quieted into a cold but gentle breeze that caressed my face like silk and filled my nose with a scent reminiscent of freshly mowed grass and overturned earth.

  I focused on the calming scent before turning my mind towards making sense of the situation. I closed my eyes and focused on what had happened.

  My meditation was interrupted by a sharp pain that prevented me from taking deep breaths. My lungs burned, and my breathing was labored and uneven. I could feel my heart racing and sweat poured down my face despite the cool air and my own lack of exertion.

  I swallowed and let out a gasp of agony. My throat burned and felt as if it were raw from gargling with shards of broken glass. I tried to push myself up, but the entire right half of my body was numb and unresponsive. My left arm was weak, but I could move it. I sluggishly raised it above my face and stared at my own bruised knuckles for a seconds before letting the hand fall and come to rest on my brow. My fingertips were numb and felt like cool glass as the rested against my head.

  My arm slowly slid down my body to lay once more on the grass beside me, and I realized that nothing was covering me. My clothes, or at least my shirt, were gone. There was no translucent face mask, and the black armor no longer surrounded me.

  The armor was not the only thing missing.

  I remembered being surrounded by dirt after being forced into the ground by an overbearing pressure, yet I was somehow lying on flat earth with nothing pressing down on me. Someone had helped me reach this point, but no one seemed to be around.

  Had they just left me here to die?

  I struggled to lift myself and cried out, but my voice was weak and hoarse. My head swam in circles as my stomach threatened to empty itself onto the dirt. I only had the strength to grunt out a few short syllables, my words barely articulated and quickly swept away by the gentle susurrus of the calm spring breeze.

  “Water, please…” I croaked. “Wa…”

  No one answered my please. I struggled to push myself up with my left arm, but I lacked the strength to even roll over. I pushed up with my elbow and managed to lift my head and one shoulder for a moment. My strength was short-lived, and I quickly fell flat on my back once more.

  “Do not worry, Finn,” said a voice that was my father’s but also something more. “You are never alone. Not from now till end. Universes still unborn shall not outlive our song.”

  “Fisher,” the word was nearly soundless and half-formed, but words were hardly needed. “Wa—” even as I began to ask two cupped hands parted my lips and a trickle of water flowed over my tongue. It was spectacular, like the sweetest thing I had ever tasted.

  “You’re broken, Finn,” the Fisher said. “You gave too much for naught; the Devil, his due has taken.” The creature paused for a moment while it fed me another mouthful of water. “Flesh has been rent. And we, cast off like detritus, foul and abandoned.”

  I held the water in my mouth for a moment, letting it seep into a parched tongue and cracked lips. I closed my eyes and swallowed the water. I took in a few slow and shallow breaths and I began to feel stronger and more lucid with each exhale.

  It wasn’t strength I was looking for, however, but courage.

  I hesitated for a moment, but I finally commanded the Fisher to confirm my suspicions. I knew, but I had to see it for myself. “Show me,” I said.

  The creature did not share my hesitation and it quickly overwhelmed my
senses with its own. The sensation was disorienting at first as conflicting images overlapped and overwhelmed my vision with hazy forms and blinding light. It was dizzying, but the feeling quickly passed.

  I was left with the image of myself, lying on tall grass that had been pressed down all around me to create a bed. My face was bloodied and bruised, and one eye was swollen to the point it seemed impossible that it was open. My exposed torso was covered in small lacerations and my entire body was a patchwork of overlapping bruises in various shades of yellow and purple.

  If that had been the extent of my injuries, I would have been shocked that I was able to move at all. But that wasn’t the worst.

  A layer of black material, much like that which my armor had been made from, covered half my chest. It went from my sternum to where my right shoulder should have been – and there it stopped.

  Nothing extended beyond that empty socket.

  My arm was gone. The words couldn’t form in my mind. I had expected to find my arm mangled and useless. Some Peacekeeper technology could have saved it, or magic could heal the damage. Didn’t even mundane doctors reattach severed limbs all the time?

  It was gone. There was more, however. The shape of my body was... wrong. My chest wasn’t symmetrical, parts of my side and right pectoral were now a crater. My right shoulder didn’t extend far enough out, as if it just ended right below my collar bone.

  It was hard to see the full extent of the injuries, as the armor was surrounding them like an amorphous bandage. What I couldn’t see, the missing pieces of myself, were enough for me to despair, but I fought against the realization. Surely some magic or some skill, anything… something could reverse this. I couldn’t live the rest of my life crippled.