Skull Master

by William Massa

  Skulick never forgot to recharge his phone. The man was the poster boy for discipline and organization. His experience in law enforcement and the military had become part of the man’s DNA.

  “It’s a trap. Get out of here!”

  Cyon’s words were panicky, and my dread intensified. Maybe I should have listened to him this time, but it was already too late. I had almost reached the desk when I suddenly froze in place. I tried to take one more step but found it impossible, my body coming up against an invisible barrier.

  My partner’s wheelchair spun around. Thank God his head was still attached to his body. But that’s where the good news ended. His fierce gaze pinned me more thoroughly than the spell that bound my feet in place, his eyes chips of ice. Cold air rushed through my chest, and I was overcome by the grinding churn of nausea. Skulick had never looked at me like that before. The rustle of footsteps made my head swivel. My feet might have stopped obeying my commands, but at least I could turn my neck.

  Two other figures peeled from the shadows of the loft. The men wore black and sported white collars. I recognized one of the priests, had fought by his side on a few occasions over the years. The tanned, leathery skin, weathered and wrinkled by the years of missionary work in Africa and South America, the full head of hair that had turned white from battling one too many demons over the years rather than age. It was Father Cabrera. Member of the White Crescent, Rome’s elite unit of exorcists. A vital ally in our battle against the darkness. But what were they doing here?

  “Skulick knows!”

  “I’m sorry, son, but you’ve been compromised.” Skulick said a beat later, the stone mask showing its first cracks, his gaze filled with a grave sadness.

  I looked down at my feet and spotted the red binding circle that had been drawn on the loft’s hardwood floor. I had walked straight into it. The demon residing inside of me forced my body to obey the white magic circle.

  I glanced at Aria. Her dark eyes were wide, uncomprehending. She had no idea what was happening here.

  Unfortunately, I did.

  The demon inside of me was about to be exorcised.

  16

  I finally understood why Skulick hadn’t answered my calls. He’d been busy setting this trap for me and Cyon.

  I’d been obsessed with the idea of casting out my demonic passenger ever since returning from Switzerland. There was nothing I’d rather do than free myself of Cyon’s influence. But exorcisms are long and rather painful experiences—as I knew all too well, having been present at my fair share of them. Cyon wouldn’t give up without a fight. Driving out a demon made kicking a heroin habit seem like a walk in the park. It involved the expenditure of copious amounts of bodily fluids and left the host a wrecked, sputtering mess.

  I was willing to go through it despite all that. But not while the Skull Master was on his way here, determined to add my partner’s head to his growing collection.

  I regarded my partner. My mentor. The closest thing to a father I’ve had since my real dad died at the hands of monsters. He was right. I’d been compromised. How had he figured it out? Skulick had already been a master detective during his cop days, and the years of solving paranormal crimes had only sharpened his skills. Somehow, he’d caught on to my situation and taken the necessary steps to free me. I could always count on Skulick to come through for me. He’d do anything in his power to save me. To save my soul.

  But the timing sucked.

  “How long have you known?” I asked.

  Skulick eased closer to the binding circle in his wheelchair and leveled his stare at me.

  “I know you, kid. Practically raised you. You weren’t the same after you came back from Switzerland. I thought the heist had got to you. Then I noticed that you suddenly had become left-handed.”

  Security footage popped up on-screen showing me drawing Hellseeker with both my left hand and my right. I hadn’t even consciously noticed the change in recent weeks.

  I cursed under my breath. Cyon must’ve clouded my mind to a point where this detail hadn’t even jumped out at me.

  “As my suspicion grew, I knew I had to make sure I was still dealing with my partner.”

  Skulick produced a small hand mirror and held it up at me. To my horror, Cyon’s emaciated features stared back at me, weirdly super-imposed over my own.

  The demon mirror could capture the reflection of any servant of darkness no matter how hard they try to disguise their presence. Skulick must’ve placed the mirror in some hidden corner of the loft and had managed to catch my reflection when I least suspected it.

  “I underestimated your partner,” Cyon said.

  You wouldn’t be the first demon to do so, I thought.

  Once Skulick had learned the truth, he had kept up appearances and made sure neither I nor Cyon would catch on. He had even assisted us on the Skull Master case while putting everything in place for the demon’s exorcism.

  “I-I tried to tell you, but the demon wouldn’t let me,” I stammered.

  “Don’t engage the beast,” Cabrera urged, cutting me off.

  The head exorcist turned toward me, eyes slitted, a man marching into battle. His mystical silver cross was held high. Exotic glyphs and runes adorned the large talisman. The Egyptian and Babylonian symbols predated Christianity by centuries. When the priest deemed it necessary, the cross could spring a series of blades from every end, blades that could penetrate the hide of even the most ancient devil. The origin of this white magic weapon was shrouded in mystery, but there was no denying its effectiveness. My friends were pulling out the big guns, all too aware of the stakes involved and the cost of failure. Not everyone survived an exorcism.

  “You can’t let them do this, Raven.” Cyon said. “Tell them that I fight on their side now.”

  Was there a trace of fear in the demon’s voice? I didn’t blame him. Exorcisms were agony both for the possessed and the possessor.

  “Together we can truly make a difference in this war you’re fighting. I’m an asset, I know how the enemy thinks.”

  I pondered the demon’s words. Strangely enough, over the course of the last month, Cyon had started to win me over. He’d saved my life a few times, even helped me track down the Skull Master. On some level, I had started to accept his presence. Perhaps I’d even started to see him as an ally. A part of me wanted to believe Cyon…and that desire was something a demon could easily take advantage of. Was Cyon truly trustworthy, or was I being played again?

  Skulick nodded at Cabrera, and the master exorcist began to quote scripture in Latin, his large cross raised high and humming with power. As blue tendrils of energy enveloped the spiritual weapon, the first pang of agony ripped through my body.

  The Seal of Solomon slipped on my finger, and Hellseeker jerked in its holster. The binding circle’s magic combined with the Latin prayers were drawing the blessed weapons away from me. I tried to thumb the butt of my magical pistol but it was no use. It was as if someone had turned on a powerful magnet. Both gun and ring were violently pulled from me and clattered on the floor outside the binding circle.

  I was unarmed now. Naked. Vulnerable.

  The second phase of my exorcism was about to begin.

  Aria let out a strangled gasp, stunned and utterly confused by what she was witnessing. One of the exorcists approached her with quick strides. He grabbed her unwounded arm and pulled her away from the circle.

  I felt sorry for her despite my own burning pain. Only a few hours ago, she had lived in a world where the monsters could be stopped by bullets or securely locked away in maximum security prisons. Now she was dealing skull monsters and exorcisms.

  “Skulick, the devil’s executioner is headed here,” I ground out through gritted teeth.

  “Don’t listen to him!” Cabrera hissed. “The demon will do anything to weaken our resolve. Deception and lies are his weapons.”

  “Damn it, Cabrera! The Skull Master is on his way here. Just…just leave me in the damned circle, if i
t makes you feel better. But you’ve got to protect Skulick.”

  To my chagrin, the master exorcist remained unmoved by my pleas. I couldn’t blame him, really.

  “Raven, I sense the power of the Skull Master approaching,” Cyon said. “Your partner is in grave danger.”

  Another sharp pang of misery cut off my response. I hunched forward, and my legs caved. I clutched my heaving gut, my insides on fire. Flesh had to be beaten into submission for the demon’s spirit to be forcefully ejected.

  “Skulick… stop…the ritual.” I struggled to get my words out. No one was listening. If the roles had been reversed, I would’ve ignored me too. My protests trailed off, drowned out by guttural heaves.

  The Latin prayers continued unabated. The exorcists had been trained to ignore the demon’s attempts to negotiate. This was a familiar scenario to a seasoned, battle-scarred exorcist.

  “I will leave my host willingly,” Cyon informed me unexpectedly. “I will prove that I am different.”

  Another burst of pain erupted inside of me. Stars danced before my eyes, and I threw up my last dinner. It wasn’t pea soup, but half-digested pizza was pretty nasty in its own right.

  “Skulick, please…”

  Pain erased all rational thought. Forces beyond my understanding wracked my body and whipped me around the circle. “Help me!” someone screamed, and I didn’t know if it was me or Cyon.

  I let out another scream, Cyon’s wails mixing with my own pain-filled cries. Skulick flinched at the cries bursting from my parched lips. It pained him to see me suffer like this. But there was also a resigned quality to his expression. He knew there was no other way. The demon had to be banished.

  “What the hell are you doing to him?” Aria demanded to know as she struggled against the priest’s grip.

  An electric surge jerked through me and every muscle seemed to contract at once. I collapsed in a cut-string sprawl, copper in my mouth and blood trickling from lips, eyes, and ears. My bones creaked ominously.

  And then I realized I wasn’t alone in the circle any longer. A second figure now stood beside me, pale and emaciated inside his crisp, dark suit. Past experience told me it was too soon for the exorcism prayers to have already produced such dramatic results. Which could mean only thing. Cyon had told me the truth. He’d voluntarily left my body. In doing so, he was sparing me the worst effects of the exorcism.

  Our eyes met, and his lips curled into something resembling an actual smile.

  “Do me one favor. Destroy Morgal for me, Raven.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Even Skulick and the exorcists appeared surprised by this latest turn in events. Judging by the suspicious glare from Cabrera, he expected a trick of some kind.

  And perhaps he was right. Maybe Cyon was playing us all for fools. But I didn’t see how. I was already feeling better, the waves of agony subsiding.

  The head exorcist approached the binding circle, Cabrera’s magical cross bright with a web of crackling supernatural energy. By leaving my body, Cyon had made himself vulnerable to them. Trapped within the circle, Cabrera only had to drive the cross blade into the demon’s heart. Its formidable power would instantly erase Cyon from this reality.

  There was no escape for the demon. His journey of vengeance had come to an end. It would indeed be up to me to stop Morgal on my own. No more uninvited guests inside my head. I should have been ecstatic, yet I couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss.

  “No,” I mumbled, stunned by own words and my sudden loyalty toward the demon.

  This was it for Cyon. The light of the cross bathed the demon’s bony features an electric blue.

  And that’s when another sound drew my attention. Aria was screaming.

  I weakly turned my head, and my blood turned to ice. The sight facing me would remain etched in my memory for the remainder of my days.

  17

  My gaze fastened on Aria. She was on her knees, arms raised as if in supplication to some dark god, her trembling lips twisted into a bloodcurdling scream. The younger exorcist who had tried to calm her earlier now stared at her with mounting horror. His expression mirrored my own.

  I barely recognized the once-beautiful art investigator. She looked like she’d dropped fifty pounds in the last five minutes, the skin stretched taut against her bones, her face sunken and skeletal.

  And then my eyes locked on the ugly bite mark on her arm. At some point, she’d stripped off her jacket, revealing the wound. It was dark and pulsed with an unholy infection. The whole reason I’d brought her here was to treat the bite, but that was before I found myself smack dab at the center of a full-blown exorcism. Given Aria’s terrible state, I wondered if it would have made any difference in the end.

  “Someone help me!” she screamed. Her voice broke into Italian, words giving way to guttural sounds more animal than human. Despite my own predicament, I shot an urgent look at Skulick and the two exorcists. My partner and his helpers stared at me wide-eyed, caught off guard by this latest development.

  “Goddamnit, help her before it’s too late,” I said. “It isn’t a trick. The Skull Master—"

  A tearing sound cut me off, and I spun back to Aria. My heart went cold, realizing it was already too late. Her body ruptured as blood-streaked bones burst from her skin. An instant later, her whole skeleton was free, shedding skin and muscle like a cheap suit. For a beat, Aria’s skeleton loomed at the edge of the binding circle, bones slick with gore, the deep, lurid eye sockets alive with a spectral fire.

  I recalled the painting in Valdis’ home. A landscape of walking skeletons preying on the living. And suddenly I understood the full extent of the fiend’s plan. Once the seven skulls were at his command, he would unleash their infectious nature upon the city. Aria’s terrible fate would become the fate of thousands. It had taken her nearly an hour to change after being bitten. How quickly would the Skull Master’s victims transform once he reached the full extent of his terrible powers? I prayed the world would never find out.

  “Do something!” I urged the exorcists.

  My voice broke their terror, and the exorcist who had tried to steady Aria earlier, surged toward the living skeleton, his crucifix raised high.

  The skeleton leapt on top of him, moving with superhuman agility and speed, and wrenched his neck back with a bone-crunching snap. His body crumpled right next to the edge of the binding circle. Dead eyes stared emptily back at me.

  Father Cabrera didn’t fare much better.

  He advanced toward the beast, his Cross of Light held high like a sword, the blades out. Before he could press it against the scarlet skeleton, the creature’s arm shot out and flung the priest aside like a pesky gnat. Both the cross and the exorcist went flying.

  I flinched as Cabrera slammed into Skulick’s command desk, knocking down computers and monitors in a rain of sparks. My terror compounded as the living skeleton lurched toward my wheelchair-bound partner. Desperate, I hurled myself with all my strength against the invisible barrier of the binding circle and was unceremoniously knocked on my ass for my efforts.

  Cyon looked down at me, as helpless to act as myself. The exorcism had split us in two, but an invisible tendril of power still connected us like some metaphysical umbilical cord. Until the link was completely severed, we both remained prisoners in the circle.

  My partner could have tried to spin his wheelchair out of the path of the fast-approaching horror, but he must have known the beast would catch up with him in seconds. Instead he faced the skeleton the way he had faced every threat over the last two decades. Head held high, a defiant snarl on his rugged features, eyes blazing with hatred for the undead. And that’s when I caught a glimpse of the green glowing pistol in his hand. Hellseeker. The sly devil must’ve scooped up my blessed gun the moment the horror show began. He waited until Aria’s skeleton was almost upon him before he squeezed the trigger.

  The boom of my pistol going off was the sweetest sound in the world to my ears. Unfortunately, the skeleton d
arted aside, once again displaying incredible reflexes, and the bullet zoomed past it. Before Skulick could fire again, the skeleton knocked the magical gun out of his hand. Unarmed, my mentor faced his fate like the warrior that he was.

  The skeleton’s bony hand snapped around my partner’s throat and lifted him with inhuman strength out of the wheelchair. Skulick let out a strangled gasp, arms flailing against his attacker while his legs dangled limply in the air. Once upon a time, the man had been the most feared monster hunter in the world. Now he was reduced to a helpless puppet.

  With growing terror, I watched the skeleton drag Skulick through the loft and head for the staircase. The creature’s footsteps rang hollowly as it ascended the stairs.

  What was the creature waiting for? Why hadn’t it killed him yet?

  All I knew was that I couldn’t sit by idly while this monster murdered my partner. I had to escape from the binding circle. Even though the exorcists were either dead or out for the count, the circle’s power remained intact—as another painful escape attempt reminded me. It felt as if I was running up against an electrified fence. My hands and body throbbed from the impact. The exorcists’ white magic was powerful indeed.

  And only white magic could breach white magic.

  As soon as the thought slashed through my head, my eyes landed on Father Cabrera’s cross. He had dropped the ancient weapon during the skeletal attack, and it had landed right near the edge of the binding circle. If only I could reach it. Dropping a holy weapon into a circle designed to trap demonic evil could easily create a power overload. Or so I hoped. It was worth a try.

  I felt eyes on me. Cyon shot me a knowing glance. Even though the demon wasn’t directly privy to my thoughts any longer, he was smart enough to know what I was thinking.

  “It could work,” he said matter-of-factly. “But if you do this, you will reverse the effects of the exorcism.”

  I considered this. Could I go back to having the demon inside of me? And If we bonded again, what were the odds of a future exorcism succeeding? This might be my best…no, my only chance of ever ridding myself of the demon.