by Ryan Attard
A thread that was soon cut as the stabby skeleton knelt next to me, piercing my torso, chest and stomach over and over again.
Darkness claimed me, and then became alive.
The stabbing skeleton froze. Its bones began rattling before exploding into a million fragments as shadows burst from inside of it.
“About time,” I croaked.
My hidden power cloaked my body and wrapped around the one-armed skeleton, squeezing it into fine powder.
“One to go,” I said, shakily standing up.
The beheaded skeleton looked at me and managed to shrug even without a head. My shadows wrapped around its spine, levitating it a few inches above the ground. With a twist, I pulled out its spine and batted the rest of its bones away, before dropping the bone.
Inside the museum, the Necromancer was engaged in a fight of his own.
The Necronomicon book hovered in the air, light and darkness swirling around it. Just looking at it made me feel nauseous. The foulness of its magic was unlike nothing I had ever experienced before.
The Necromancer was fighting it, swirling in his own light and darkness, pushing back. Sweat trickled around his body and he stumbled — the toll of using too much magic at one go.
The spirit inside the book was winning, slowly driving the man to his knees.
I focused magic around my eyes, looking beyond the physical plane. Around the Necronomicon, with the book sitting in the middle of it, was the Lich, a foul creature of the underworld.
It resembled a decayed corpse, opaque and unearthly, with bone and sinew dangling out and flesh barely holding it together. Death coated it like an all-enveloping dark cloud, and when it spoke, the Lich emitted screeches and noises that sounded like someone being strangled and gasping for their last desperate breath. Its eyes, red, crimson and purple all at once, looked down upon the Necromancer with absolute knowledge that nothing could withstand its vast power.
Tendrils from its body expanded, converging around the sarcophagi littering the museum exhibit. Like something out of Scooby Doo, the coffins creaked open, until whatever was inside of them burst forth, and walked once more among the living.
Six mummies emerged, all in various states of decomposition and preservation, filling the air with the stench of death and antiquity. Their bandages were yellowed and black, stained and thick, until some started coming loose, revealing the putrid flesh beneath before it turned to dust. The mummies, however, never lost their limbs or any mobility, lithely walking until they surrounded the Necronomicon.
The Lich gave a single command and the mummies pounced on the Necromancer. The Draugr stepped in front of its master, swinging its axe and catching one of the mummies in the face. The mummy stumbled backwards, before swatting at the Draugr, hitting him with twice the strength, and the six of them proceeded to brutally rip the undead Viking apart, piece by piece.
The Lich declaimed something, its power once again converging around the Necromancer. I did not understand a single syllable but the intent was clear: the Necromancer was dead meat.
A blast from Djinn deflected whatever the Lich was about to do and now everyone’s focus was on me.
“Does this remind anyone else of a cartoon?”
I rushed at the nearest mummy and swung with all my might. The mummy met my strike, blocking it. I ducked, lashed at its legs and managed to make it stumble, just long enough for me to get past it. Two of the mummies kicked, one high, one low, and made contact. My shadows converged against their limbs, barely able to contain the damage and I was sent stumbling forwards, crashing into the Necromancer.
I grabbed him by his obnoxious ponytail, rolled onto a tiny bun above his head, and pulled. The hair came undone and the Necromancer moved along — avoiding a death ray from the Lich in the process.
I slammed him against a carbon-fiber column with fake hieroglyphics. “Stay here,” I ordered.
“Thank you,” he squeaked.
“I’m not doing this for you,” I said. “You’re the only one who can stop this guy, so think of something before the whole damn city becomes an extra from The Mummy.”
The six mummies emitted a screech like a cat’s and I swung at the nearest two. The energy blast from Djinn cut deep, through bandage and whatever the heck lay beneath, but that didn’t stop the mummies from swinging. I ducked and a bandaged fist tunneled through the fake column. The mummy was stuck there, flailing its other arm to try and loosen itself.
The other five reached me. Shadows and azure energy kept them at bay, but the damn things were unstoppable.
Two ebony daggers sailed through the air, each burying deep inside a mummy’s head. Runes glowed on the daggers and the mummies fell with a shriek, turning into dust.
Greg blazed through the entrance of the museum exhibit, his spear shredding at one of the remaining mummies.
“Thanks for the save,” I said.
Greg acknowledged my reply by killing the stuck mummy and evening the odds in our favor.
One of the remaining mummies grabbed his spear and they struggled for control.
Another mummy latched onto my coat, prompting my shadows to pierce it multiple times. With each thrust, dust and sand billowed but the mummy remained stuck until I charged Djinn with magic, combined my shadows into the weapon and cut through the mummy’s arm.
The last mummy — the one previously stuck to the column — had loosened itself and was on top of the Necromancer, who was busy kicking at it as it attempted to choke the life out of him.
Greg may have evened the odds but these creatures were too much for us, even one-on-one.
Not unless I could stop them at the source.
I plunged Djinn into the mummy’s stomach, holding it barely beyond reach. I felt its strong calloused fingers scrape against my face, leaving scratches, but I ignored the pain.
Instead, I outstretched my left hand and shadows shot forwards, taking the shape of a giant fist. My spell went straight into the Necronomicon, sending the book skittering on the ground.
The Lich screamed, loud enough to shatter glass and the fake walls around us. I felt something wet and viscous trickle down my ears, and fell on the ground. I saw the Necromancer in the fetal position, blood pouring from his ears.
The Lich spat curses and roars in languages long lost to our civilization. The surviving mummies staggered backwards as if pulled by an invisible string. Their bandages became unravelled and dust covered the ground before clumping together again.
Thousands of scarabs — thick, fat dung beetles — glistened black as they moved like a sea towards the Necronomicon, swirling together in a disgusting cloud of pincers, legs and gossamer wings.
The Lich’s tone changed, turning almost into a gloat, and a few seconds later I found out why.
The sea of beetles meshed into a solid form, growing claws, teeth, four legs and a giant head. Standing at nearly ten feet tall, the Sphinx roared and zeroed in on us, before coiling on its powerful legs and lunging at us.
Chapter 22
I’ve seen a crap-load of monsters during my tenure as a monster hunter. When it’s your job to prowl the streets of a city notorious for its monster population, you tend to encounter all sorts of weird crap.
But I can honestly say that I’ve never encountered a real-life Sphinx.
Look at me, having new experiences.
“Aw, fuck me sideways.”
The Sphinx landed two inches from my face, its paws crushing the floor beneath it. Greg twirled his spear and stabbed it in the Sphinx’s hind legs, tearing open a gash. The monster turned on itself, swiping a paw at Greg. The Kresnik was sent flying, three deep gashes in his back.
Djinn flashed azure and I slashed, only reaching up to the Sphinx’s elbow. The monster stumbled. It swung its giant humanoid head, snapping unhinged jaws with teeth the size of my face. I barely managed to avoid being cleaved in two, letting out a breath of relief. Two seconds later I felt something pull me back. My coat was snagged in the Sphinx’s te
eth and as it swung its head, I was thrown around the museum hall like a rag doll.
Greg stood up and threw a vial towards the Sphinx’s eyes. The monster roared and reared, with me still stuck to it, thrown from side to side.
“Sorry,” Greg yelled.
“Screw you,” I replied, holding on for dear life.
Greg pulled out five daggers, holding them close, while wrapping his other arm around his spear, holding it steady. He ducked under a swipe, and planted a dagger on the ground. Slashing with his spear, he leapt to another position and planted more daggers, forming a pentacle. He backed off and channeled his magic.
Light shot like a thin white laser from one dagger to the other, forming a barrier around the Sphinx. The monster tried moving past the barrier and light flooded the ground, pushing it back.
Roaring, it bent low, like a cat ready to leap, its lion-like body shifting. I took advantage of this position and grabbed onto the Sphinx’s tooth that I was hanging from. Shadows spiraled around it like a lasso. More shadows wrapped around a fake column, and I hoisted myself up and around…
On top of the Sphinx.
I buried Djinn into the monster’s neck, shadows wrapping about the Sphinx’s upper jaw. I felt the monster snap and bite at the black tendrils to no avail.
Beneath my new seat I felt muscle coil and made the mistake of looking back.
Two gashes on its back tore open, revealing a mass of insects beneath. A pair of jet black wings burst out, long, thin and twice the size of the Sphinx itself. One flap was all it took to send those daggers flying, throwing Greg himself into a vacant sarcophagus. The Sphinx took to the air, with me screaming as I held onto for dear life.
From my vantage point I could see a black-clad figure dash towards the Necronomicon and the Lich hovering around it.
The Necromancer sent out a ray of darkness at the book, only for it to be completely absorbed by the Lich. It did however stumble just an inch, and that was all the Necromancer needed to fire off another spell.
The Lich yelled something in its unique language of — I assume — ancient Egyptian, mixed with a lot of growls and screeches.
The Necromancer’s tattoos glowed crimson once more as his magic wrapped around the Lich, and the impossible happened: the Lich began backing down.
“You’re mine,” the Necromancer snarled.
The Lich replied with something, and it seemed like the Necromancer could understand the undead spirit because he retaliated with:
“Shut up! Just shut up and give me your power, you stupid ghost.”
Meanwhile both me and the Sphinx were airborne, with the ceiling of the museum inching closer and closer to my head. The Sphinx kept spinning around, trying to reach behind it with its bizarre human head and unhinged jaw full of dagger-like teeth, trying to reach the pesky human straddling it.
I buried Djinn deeper into the Sphinx and twisted. The monster spun in the air before its wings went rigid and took a nose dive…
Straight towards the Necromancer and the Lich.
We landed on top of the Necromancer, squashing him beneath the Sphinx’s giant body. He gasped and comically tried to scramble away. The force of the impact shook me loose and I was sent flying into the hovering Necronomicon.
“No!” Greg and the Necromancer screamed in unison. But it was too late. My hand brushed against the book, and the death curse came into effect.
The effect was instant.
A wave of necromantic energy burrowed deep inside me, expanding, infiltrating every vein and blood vessel. Death came fast and slow at the same time, taking over one cell at a time.
I saw the Lich hovering over me, my finger still brushing against the corner of the Necronomicon. The spirit loomed over, bits of flesh brushing against my face, and it opened its mouth to speak.
“You are mine, human.”
It spoke in plain English, still rasping and snarling. The Lich bore its eyes into mine, watching me as its death magic worked its way to my heart.
“Die, human. Die and join my army.”
Fuck off, I screamed on the inside.
The Lich seemed to understand me — it grinned in response. “Do you really think you have what it takes to fight me off?”
It was my turn to grin. Yeah, I do, I thought.
Dark Erik rose from his slumber, shadows fighting off the death curse with frightening ease. The Lich was thrown back, leaving the Necronomicon behind.
I stood up, clad in tangible darkness. I watched as the Sphinx melted into a puddle of goop, relieving the Necromancer from its pressure. I saw his eyes on me, scared. Greg too, had the same expression on his face he had when I first used this power at the cemetery.
Nonchalantly, I picked up the Necronomicon.
“So this is what the fuss is all about?” My voice was deeper and more guttural, emitting power with every syllable. I fought back to hold the full brunt of this power at bay — I knew where it led, the beast-like rage and destruction.
So I held back, using only a fraction of what I had in store.
“No.” The Lich struggled to stand up. I felt it tug at the Necronomicon, claiming back its dominion over it.
“Like hell,” I snarled.
The Lich backed away. Instead, I felt it search for something else, something close by — something as important to it as the book.
“You can understand it?” It was the Necromancer who spoke. He stood up on shaky legs, greedily eyeing the Necronomicon in my hands. “How come you’re not dead?”
“I’m complicated,” I replied.
“Erik,” Greg said. “We must seal that book while its host is stunned.”
I collected shadows in my hand, forming a dagger. “I got your seal right here.”
“NO!”
Greg and the Necromancer blasted me, darkness and light working in tandem. The book was torn from my hands and I was sent backwards.
The Necromancer was closer to the book and he lunged for it.
“Mine!” He clutched it with both hands, looking at us with wide eyes. “It’s finally mine. You stupid fuckers! You practically handed this to me.”
His giggling was interrupted when the Lich wrapped its hands around his throat.
“No one touches the sacred text, you barbarian. Pay for your sins with your life.”
Magic left the Necromancer, filling the Lich with life as he became more solid, grabbing the book with his decayed skeletal hands.
“Where is it, humans?” he screamed. “Where is my body?”
Greg swooped in front of him, spear flashing. The light spell worked, sending the Lich screaming.
Two giant fists of shadows shot from my body into both Greg and the Lich, sending both of them flying.
I stood up, pissed off, and pointed at Greg.
“I’ll deal with you later,” I said, before turning to the Lich. “Okay, asshole. You get two seconds before I get really mad. What’s this shit about your body?”
The Lich snarled. “He said my body was here. He said I could have life again, walk among the living.” The Lich’s eyes flashed. “It’s here, I can feel it.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “This guy you’re talking about, he wouldn’t happen to be called Alan Greede, would he?”
“There’s no need for you to know,” the Lich replied. “You’ll be dead soon.”
A blast of necromantic power, larger than the ones before it, shot towards me.
I held Djinn in front of me, azure light and shadows swirling around me. Our powers met each other, pushing and straining. Deep grooves appeared in the walls, shattering the carbon fiber columns.
“Just in case you really are that dense,” I said, straining against the power, “you can’t beat me.”
I dug deeper into my power, calling more and more, all the while feeling less like myself.
I saw my power slowly overtake the Lich’s, and the scream that followed was one of the most horrifying things I’d ever heard.
“No, no, NO!
Not like this.”
The Lich’s power extended, catching the Necromancer as he tried to scramble away.
“Give me more, mongrel. I require more.”
The Necromancer struggled, before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell limp. The Lich snarled and roared, his power growing, pushing against mine.
Suddenly, all that pressure was gone. I stumbled forwards, my eyes looking around for signs of foul play. The Lich had completely disappeared.
“Where did it go?”
There was nothing around me, save the signs of battle, an unconscious Necromancer and Greg, who was leaning against his spear, using it as a crutch to stand up.
“It’s not over yet, Erik,” he said.
Hearing his voice riled me up. “You bet your Russian ass, it’s not over yet,” I said, stomping my foot. “The fuck is wrong with you? Partners don’t attack each other.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he replied.
Magic, foul and ancient, exploded from beneath us and the ground erupted. A mummy, complete with a golden death mask and carrying a highly adorned staff, rose out.
The Necronomicon hovered in front of it, open. The text on the pages glowed, emanating power and death.
“Yes.” The mummy’s bandaged hand grasped the book and looked straight at me. Beyond the golden visage of the death mask, I saw the dark purple glow of the Lich’s eyes. “I live once more!”
At his declaration, a dozen portals opened all around him, some on the ground, others in midair. Creatures, mismatched and unidentifiable, reached from beyond, clawing their way through our world.
But they never made it.
The Lich’s powers wavered, shutting the portals down.
“How?” he asked. Then, as if he had figured out the answer, he shut the Necronomicon and sighed. “It seems I still require more time to fully reawaken. No matter. I have what I wanted.” He looked me in the eye. “Next time we meet, it shall be at the end of your world, and the beginning of mine.”
