Graveyard Uprisings

by Jason Paul Rice

  He reached down and grabbed my shirt around my chest and lifted me up like I was a ragdoll. By the time I was upright, a straight right fist was headed toward my face. My nose popped and blood shot from my nostrils, prompting my father to laugh again.

  My brain was scrambled from the hardest punch I’ve ever received. He was holding me up as I was basically out on my feet.

  The Spirit fed more magic into my father, this time through his eyes. I didn’t see it, but I felt something tightening around my wrists and ankles. My father poked me in the chest, and I fell over. I tried to wiggle my arms and legs to get out of the bonds, but they just kept tightening.

  “Yep, Mikey, time to have some fun with you.” He booted me in the side with the impact of an anvil, the air rushing out of my lungs. My father leaned down and hit me with another crushing punch to the right cheek. The impact drove my head into the rocks and everything went black.

  My eyes flickered open. I had no idea how long I was out for as there was a woozy feeling in my head. The invisible ties still secured my wrists and ankles, immobilizing me. My father sat next to me sharpening a knife on a rectangular stone. The spirit was feeding magic into my father through his chest. That didn’t seem good.

  Suddenly, the golden spirit shaped like a cloaked man became very tall and skinny until finally the Sendal streaked off into the Pittsburgh night. Hells yeah, Jonathan. Now if I could just get these ties off. A confused look came over my father’s face as he tried to understand what had just happened.

  Seemingly undeterred, my father threw the sharpening stone over the edge. I could still hear fighting on the street below and worried about Satoku. Then I thought about Felix and hoped he was alright dealing with the Sendals downstairs. For some reason, I didn’t think about the danger I was in as my father approached me with a sharp knife and a sick smile.

  He leaned down, lunged forward and stabbed me in the side. The knife bounced off my suit, further confusing my dad. It caused a great deal of pain as I rolled around on the ground. Stunned, he poked me two more times in the belly with the same reaction.

  In agony, I tried to think of a way to defeat my father. I realized that trying to outpower him with external magic wasn’t going to work. I went to internal magic and tried to pull in the chill but my battered body seemed to be failing. I took in as much of the frost as I could and projected it into my father.

  He stood still as a statue, but before the smile could form on my face, a red glow outlined his body and melted my internal freeze. He had more magical skills than I had previously imagined, which was scary. My father kicked me in frustration. The suit spread the pain out, which felt like someone was pricking me with a pin all over my body.

  The bonds hadn’t loosened as I had hoped when the last Sendal Spirit vanished. If Felix could just defeat the spirits downstairs, my father would lose his power. I couldn’t count on that as I formulated plan C. I thought about my father’s weaknesses and strengths.

  He was already one of the most powerful warlocks in the world. I couldn’t straight up out-magic him. Internal magic wasn’t working so I shifted toward mental magic. My father’s brief training shouldn’t have extended to this form of magic.

  He kicked me a few more times as I sent my mind waves at his skull. They seeped into his head and burrowed into his brain. I could hear his thoughts. He was worried that the Sendals had abandoned him. He wanted to kill me, but he didn’t know if he had permission.

  Confusion dominated his thoughts, not to my surprise. I’d never done this before, but I tried to implant some messages. I mentally whispered into my father’s head, “Don’t kill him yet. Release the bonds.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was working until my father screamed, “Why?” He looked up at the sky in confusion.

  I kept feeding him information, “You will get a chance to kill him later.”

  “But I want to torture him now and kill him later,” he yelled, spinning in circles.

  “Who is your master?” I projected into his head.

  My father lowered his head in shame and the wraps around my arms and legs went away. I flexed my hands around trying to increase circulation. I formed three orbs of radioactive heat and fired them at my dad. The first two bounced off him, skipping off the roof and falling to the streets. The third connected to his right shoulder, completely tearing it apart.

  Blood burst from the wound, staining the light layer of snow below. His arm hung lifelessly at his side. My father’s expression revealed that he couldn’t believe he could be hurt. I got him to lower his guard just enough to take away the stone shell around his body that had been keeping him safe.

  He pointed his finger at me and a ray of red light shot toward me, stopping in front of me, then surrounding me like a dense fog. I inhaled and it felt like I was swallowing razor blades. I spat a wad of red liquid out and gagged for air.

  I went back inside my father’s head, “Don’t kill him if you want to torture him.”

  His neck craned around, searching for a nearby spirit, until he focused on me. While he was confused, I developed three more invisible fireballs, hoping he couldn’t detect them. Because of the great pain, I missed with the first two and barely connected to the side of his midsection with the third. However, it ripped another large chunk of flesh from his body.

  The man went down to his knees. “What happened?”

  “You sold out. Plain and simple.” I gathered in all the heat I could with mixed emotions as I approached him. “You gave your soul away for the shallow wish of killing me. You put your life in someone else’s hands.”

  His face contorted in horror, “How did I lose to a sissy boy? They promised me I would get to kill you. They promised.”

  I kept sucking in all the heat I could, thinking my suit and clothes would burst into flames at any time. “I remember someone promising me that they would take care of me too. Sound familiar.”

  Tears formed in my eyes as I stared at the battered, bleeding body of my father. Pulling in even more heat, I had to stop him. If not for me personally, for all the people he would kill in the future and those he’d killed in the past. Just look at the helicopter he had just taken down.

  But he was my father. Could I really kill him?

  “Come on, Mikey. You know I was just kidding bout all this. I just wanted to make you a man. You gotta believe me. This was all a set-up for you. I did it all for you, Mikey.” He coughed, and blood oozed out the corners of his mouth.

  That sealed the deal. Even in his most vulnerable moments, he was a con man liar. I didn’t see my father in that instance. I saw all the horrible things he had done to my mother and me.

  I remembered when he had grabbed my mom by the hair and thrown her to the ground. Then he had yelled at her for knocking over a chair on the way down. I remembered him putting a cigarette butt out on my shoulder and laughing at me when I cried. I was eight years old.

  I had to do this.

  I blasted my father with a volcanic blast, engulfing my father in flames, and instantly turning his body to ashes. The human form held for several moments, allowing me one last look at my father.

  I didn’t see a man. I saw all the evil things he had done over the years, like flipping through a picture book. The album ended with images of my father trying to kill me tonight. Tears formed in my eyes. What a waste.

  A wind gust came sweeping through carrying away the ashes of my father. With all the dirty magic inside him, I had to destroy my father’s body completely so he never came back.

  I looked up at the sky and another helicopter came swooping in. “He’s gone, mom. I did it for you. He can’t hurt anyone again. I’m sorry I had to do it, but we’re safe now.”

  A hail of bullets rained down from the chopper, nearly missing my feet as I scurried across the roof and into the exit door. I hobbled down the steps to the 64th floor and found the nearest elevator. No way was I walking all those flights down.

  The elevator’s doors opened in the lobb
y and I drew my sword in case Felix needed help. I came around the corner just in time to see Felix’s sword rip through the final red Sendal Spirit. How fitting. The mage collapsed to the ground. I ran over to make sure he was okay.

  I leaned over him. His face and hands were darker, indicating that the spirits had burned him internally. I gently helped him up as a chorus of police sirens blared. I leaned down, hooked his arm around my neck and walked slowly toward the entrance.

  I carefully helped Felix get through the broken glass and bumped into my crew. Satoku was safe. My heart breathed a sigh of relief. The stone men and men in black were all lying on the street and sidewalks because their power source had been destroyed.

  Aka Manah and the Jersey Devil raced by and the former yelled, “Good job, Merlino, thanks for the knife.” He held up one of my enchanted blades. I checked my beltline and a rotten feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. It must have slipped out when I was squeezing into the building.

  Felix could stand on his own, so I raced after Aka Manah until I noticed a group of officers on foot coming my way. I made a quick U-turn and my friends and I hightailed it out of there before we had to answer a bunch of questions from the authorities.

  My body felt numb despite the serious injuries. I’d just killed my father and I don’t think I’ve fully processed it. It was the right thing to do, right? He was a maniac who would have killed more people if given the chance. I had to do it.

  So why was I feeling so torn up inside? It was like part of me was dying, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe all the bad tendencies and shortcomings that were caused by my father will die too. Perhaps I had to do this, so I could finally have closure on the whole thing.

  Pittsburgh was safe from the Sendal Spirits. I took comfort in the fact that nobody else would die. For now. Panic ran through me again remembering that I needed to get that knife back from Aka Manah or it would be my life.

  We kept running through the streets, and I couldn’t believe our tiny crew, aided by the demons, took out a powerful entity like the Sendal Spirits. I was still in shock that the Jersey Devil and Aka Manah showed up to help us out. I grabbed Satoku’s hand and kissed it, glad that this was all over with.

  30

  A fortnight later, I watched the work crew pull out the tiny headstone and replace it with one worthy of my mother. I knew Jonathan had connections so I had asked him to find one for me, and my vampire friend ended up paying for it. It wasn’t terrible having a rich vampire who liked to give away lavish gifts.

  The four-foot onyx headstone had letters chiseled into it that were filled with gold.

  IN DEDICATION OF:

  BRIGHID PARKER BOYLE MERLINO

  DEDICATED WIFE

  LOVING MOTHER

  PRESCIOUS SOUL

  I laid a dozen roses on her grave and knew that my mother would be proud of me. That meant everything. That was why I lived my life. For her.

  Alayna stood on my left and Satoku on my right. Being a Soul Searcher, my girlfriend could see the faerie, but none of the workers could.

  We had defeated the Sendal Spirts, but there wasn’t a guarantee they wouldn’t form again and come back to Pittsburgh. I thought about the recent events.

  Carolyn had made it to the airport safely and I got paid sixty grand for “protecting her.” I felt sad, especially for Reg, who didn’t meet many ladies, as they were a good couple. I had a feeling Reg would be meeting many lady vamps in his new lifestyle.

  Reg was an official member of the Purple Clan of Vampires now, which complicated our relationship. Jonathan had called me to ask me about Reg and I told him the truth. I told the elder vamp what a great guy Reg was and how he’d make a nice addition to the clan. It wasn’t easy, but sometimes you’ve got to let go.

  Jonathan sold the Dybbuk Boxes at auction for a pretty penny. I took the proceeds and gave two thousand dollars to Rebecca and Roy Lint for donating the boxes in the first place. I added the rest to the sixty grand.

  The insurance claim on my office worked out so I didn’t have to worry about that. I took some money out of the kitty and got my car fixed. I bought Satoku a new car because her insurance didn’t cover crazy acts of risen stone men and I felt a tad responsible since I had unleased the red spirit. Nothing fancy, but it’ll get her around town. I also paid the next six months’ rent on my house and office to Alayna.

  I know, I know, all this frivolous spending to show off the glamourous life of a wizard.

  That left eighty-five thousand dollars up for grabs. I had thought about getting a new car, taking a vacation, putting a down payment on a house, updating my sad wardrobe, purchasing a warehouse of Jameson or making my office look more like Jonathan’s. Then I had debated starting a savings account.

  But none of that was me. I’m a simple wizard who loves the song Simple Man. I had stuffed a few bucks into a savings account before I realized what I needed to do with the cash. I had made an anonymous donation to my Cancer Support Group for members to use for treatment or living expenses. Fighters normally lost their jobs or had to take extended periods away from work while battling with cancer.

  It was the only logical choice.

  I talked to Felix the other day and we agreed to help each other out in the future, much to the glee of my girlfriend.

  As for Satoku, I’m just glad that she was safe again and we were back together.

  And for yours truly, the clock is ticking on whether I can get that enchanted knife back from Aka Manah and the demons of the Red Cavern before I die. The Gods had given me one month to return the knife or they will be forced to inflict their justice. I’m hoping nothing else pops up that will sidetrack me on that mission, but we all know how that goes.

  From The Author

  There is a sample of the next book in the series after a few quick messages.

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  Preview: Modern Merlin

  The three young men plunged deeper into the creepy forest darkness, with a legendary murderer on the loose. Mike, Gary and Kyle stumbled through the two-square-mile, oak tree laden-forest known as Houlihan’s Square. None of the locals dared to enter the abandoned homeland of George Houlihan, the immortal man believed to be responsible for scores of deaths over the past two hundred years.

  “Why are we going directly into this murderer’s backyard? Anyone?” Kyle asked.

  “Man, you scared.” Gary laughed and slapped Mike on the back.

  “I’m not scared of anything.” Kyle pointed his beefy index finger in Gary’s face.

  The heavily intoxicated friends trampled through the dark woods using the half-moon and stars as a guide. Mike and Gary had brought flashlights but they didn’t want to turn them on and risk being spotted. Mike chugged the rest of his Milwaukee’s Best lager and tossed the can aside. He belched and wiped some foam from his mouth with his forearm.

  Kyle stopped. “Did you guys hear that shit?”

  “Ssstop with that ssscaredy cat routine.” Mike slurred. “Who caressss if we die anyway?”

  Gary held his hands on either side of his mouth and called out, “George. Oh George. Hey George, come out and play.”

  Kyle took two steps to his left and punched Gary in the shoulder, almost knocking the smaller man down. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

  “There you go again. Being a little bitch.” Gar
y gingerly rubbed his shoulder and continued heading toward the heart of the dense woods.

  “I’m not scared. And you two alkies should be glad I’m here. You are drunk out of your minds. I shoulda never even drove you two here.”

  Mike pulled down the zipper of his camouflage shorts and began to urinate on the trunk of a mighty oak tree. “Hold up, y’all. Gotta drain the main vein.”

  Kyle said, “Not funny. How much farther do you guys want to go in? We been walkin’ in these stupid woods for at least twenty minutes.”

  Mike swayed back and forth, and dribbled on one of his Nike Air shoes. He turned toward Kyle, forgetting to zip his shorts back up. “We ain’t stopping till we get to the Circle. I got a bone to pick with this so-called murderer.”

  Kyle spun around a few times. “Where’d Gary go?” He whispered into the woods, “Yo, G, where you at? Stop playing, man.” He turned to Mike. “You see where he went?”

  Mike ripped a twelve-ounce can of Milwaukee’s Best from the plastic six-pack holder hanging from his cracking leather belt. “You want a brew, Kyle?” He put his hand over the last warm can left on his hip.

  Kyle held up an open hand and waved him off. “Nah, man. I can’t think about drinking right now. I got that metal taste in my mouth, and I feel like I’m gonna yak. We gotta go find Gary. Now. I hope he’s not trying to scare us, ‘cuz I’ll beat his ass into pulp if that’s what he’s doing.”

  Mike tried to keep up with the situation but his severe inebriation was seriously inhibiting his abilities. “Gary was here?” Mike squinted his eyes and peered into the woods as he rotated around. He stumbled to one knee and had to wait a few moments to regain his balance, then stood up too fast and scrambled to grab a tree branch above his head. He held on until his vision cleared and his balance returned.

  “If we don’t find Gary in five minutes, I’m hightailing it out of this spooky place,” Kyle said.