by H Waters
“What is the importance of this church?” Dante asked, moving his fingers in strange patterns to control the bird. I ignored him and continued to look for the church.
The bird glided at a very low height, examining the rubble and decimated streets. Bodies could be seen crushed under large blocks of concrete. I closely looked at every body that could have been Dallas.
“So why this church?” Dante asked again.
“Oh, sorry. It was the last place I had seen my husband alive,” I replied. “See that there, that is our home,” I said, pointing to a burned husk of a building.
“Was … that was your home?” Grekal belted out.
“Ignore her,” Dante angrily replied. I took his advice and continued to watch the bird. Oddly enough the church was still standing, its strong stone walls left unscathed.
The bird landed on a small pillar overlooking the steps of the church. On the steps sat a familiar face, the Prophet. He was sharpening two black blades that looked similar to mine, just a little shorter. “So, so did the Prophet protect the church?” I stuttered. “Dallas must be alive, then?”
Grekal began to let out a sinister chuckle.
“What could you possibly be laughing about!” I screamed at Grekal, spinning around to face her. Her expression was now sallow and cold, much different from her previous wicked-witch act.
“Look up,” she said in a highly unsettling voice.
I quickly spun back around just as Dante was willing the bird to look up. The walls, stained-glass windows, roof and peak all looked untouched and the same as when I had left Kata. “What are you saying?” I asked. “Everything looks normal.”
Laughing, Grekal replied, “Higher, my dear, on the cross.”
The bird continued to look up until it reached the cross at the highest point on the church. There were at least a dozen bodies hanging from the cross, which towered over the rubble and death, its bronze metal glowing in the sun. Ropes were strung around the cross, settling on the large intersecting metal arms. On the ends of the ropes hung dozens of bodies, blue and rotten from the sun. Slowly examining all the dead, I could not recognize any of them. They must have been soldiers stripped of their armor. The bird made its way around the church until it came across a body I did recognize. There, right in front of me, hung Dallas.
I collapsed to my knees, unable to move or control my anger. “I should have never left him alone!” I screamed.
Dante softly replied, “I’m afraid if you stayed, you would likely have suffered the same fate. There is nothing you could have done.”
Sobbing I replied, “At least I could have said goodbye. The last memory he has of me is a hot-tempered redhead yelling and storming off, leaving him alone to die.”
“There is no way you could have known,” Dante said, softly patting me on the back.
Flashes of memory began to snowball in my mind. How happy Dallas was when he got that mechanic job in the city. How his blue eyes lit up when he held our baby boy Jake for the first time. All of these thoughts should have filled me with joy, but instead I was consumed by rage. I would never be able to share another memory with Dallas again, thanks to these monsters.
Tired of Grekal’s hideous laughing, I softly said, through my anger, “Why were they hung? Why not just kill them like the rest?”
“Oh, sassy, aren’t you?” laughed Grekal, returning to her previous wicked-witch self. “They resisted the transformation, they would not give themselves to us and join our fight. So they are being used as examples.”
“Transformation?” I said, getting to my feet. “Why are you talking like you were there?”
“We turn the survivors or prisoners into Ghouls,” Grekal calmly said.
“Then why not force them all to turn, why have any examples?” I asked, turning towards her.
“Well you see, there is a small catch. The magic, even as dark as it is, still needs the host’s consent,” she snipped back.
“Why do you act like you were there?” I softly repeated.
“My brother and I, we can see what the other sees as it happens!” she laughed. I turned to Dante.
Knowing my question before I even asked it, he looked me in the eyes and said somberly, “It is hard to do, but using magic to link minds is possible.”
“I saw his last moments, acting so big and tough,” Grekal quickly belted out, “until they had him strung up, then he called out for his dear Echo and cried like a little bit—”
“Enough!” I screamed, cutting her off. “Can he see us right now?” I asked, pacing, barely keeping myself together.
“Yes, he knows where I am, he will come for me,” she smiled.
Channeling my anger into false confidence, I said, “Well, when he arrives, he will only find your dead, rotting corpse.”
“You can’t kill me, you fool!” she laughed.
“Watch me,” I screamed, raising my sword as I rushed forward to cut her head from her shoulders.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Dante hollered. He stepped in front of my sword.
“Step aside old man,” I screamed, thoughts of Dallas still running through my mind.
“Your friend Scarlet!” he ranted in a panicked voice. “Have you forgotten why you came here in the first place? Killing Grekal now will also seal your friend’s fate!”
“You’re … you’re right?” I stuttered. “What do we do?”
“First we have to inject Scarlet with the blood of the Saints,” said Dante, walking to his metal table and selecting an old-looking needle filled with a dark red blood. “It will separate her from Grekal.”
Grekal began to shake and squirm. Dante walked over to her, turning the needle downward so the rusty point was facing Grekal. With a surprisingly quick motion for such an old man he slammed the needle straight into her heart. He used one hand to hold the needle straight as Grekal howled and shook, and the other hand slowly injected the blood.
Once the needle was empty Dante slowly pulled it out, being sure not to break the needle off inside of her as she continued to struggle, and took a few steps back. “Ready yourself, Echo. She will be weaker than normal because of the separation, but she will still not hesitate to kill us given the chance,” he said with a shaky voice.
“Wait, what? These things can just live on their own? I thought they needed a host.”
“Kind of,” Dante answered, “but they are considerably more vulnerable without a host, if that provides any comfort.”
“What would have provided comfort is you telling me this before you separated them!”
“Please calm yourself and focus,” Dante ordered, trying to sound calm himself.
I rolled my eyes and gripped my sword tight. The hilt was wet with sweat. I had never been more angry and scared in my life.
Scarlet’s body began to change back, her skin regaining color. The process took a while. With every gray hair that was replaced by a blonde hair and every wrinkle that faded back into young skin, I found myself growing more and more nervous. Once it was done Scarlet looked completely normal again, like nothing had happened at all. No sign of Grekal could be seen on her body.
“Where is Grekal?” I asked Dante.
“I’m not sure,” he responded. I shot him a look that said, if we get through this I am going to kill you myself.
Abruptly Grekal’s laughter came from my right, sounding like it was only an inch away from me. Turning, I saw absolutely nothing but shelves and tables covered in old clutter. My eyes darted to follow every slight movement and shadow, my sword growing heavier with every second.
“Show yourself!” I screamed. Laughter came pouring in from every corner of the room, growing louder and louder. I instinctively dropped my sword so I could cover my ears with both hands, trying to look around, my head feeling like it was going to explode.
Dante was by the metal bed on his knees, his hands covering his ears, blood dripping down from them. As the drops of blood hit the stone floor they froze almost instantly. I had no
t noticed until now, but the temperature had dropped drastically since Grekal had been freed. The windows were steamed and the warm stone of the floor was now cold to the touch. Dante forced his head up, his eyes widening as he saw me. He tried to yell something but I could not hear him over the mind-melting laughter. My back began to feel even colder than the room, as if someone were rubbing ice onto it. Lucy came barreling towards me, teeth barred and ears bleeding. She seemed to be completely ignoring the pain from the laughter. She jumped past me like she was attacking something. Then I realized what Dante was trying to say.
“Grekal!” I tried to yell over the laughter. I collapsed to my knees, fumbling to reclaim my sword. As the sound of Grekal’s laughing stopped, it was replaced by a screaming panic: I could finally think again.
“Argh! You stupid mutt,” Grekal yelled. Lucy had lunged high enough to grab Grekal’s ear with her teeth, ripping off a large piece of it. Grekal caught Lucy by her hind legs, throwing her into a large wooden cabinet. The old wood gave out and collapsed around Lucy. Without hesitation I spun around, slicing through Grekal at the knees. There was barely any resistance, as if the sword were cutting off a slice of butter.
“Finally! No more of that nonsense!” Dante yelled far too loudly, obviously still unable to hear after the laughter.
Some rustling came from a far corner of the room and Lucy appeared, shaking off dust and parts from unrecognizable old objects that must have been inside the cabinet she destroyed. “Lucy!” I called out. She limped towards me, and collapsed to the ground. I knelt down in a panic, checking her for blood.
“Grekal,” Dante ordered. “Get Grekal. I will worry about the dog.”
I whirled around. To my surprise Grekal had fled even after having both her knees cut out. I gripped my sword and followed the path of thick black blood and pained screeches as a wounded Grekal crawled towards the elevator. I caught up with her quickly. “You told me you could not be killed, but here you are desperately dragging yourself around, bleeding out,” I told Grekal, using my sword to point at the large pools of blood everywhere.
“You should not possess such a blade,” Grekal muttered, spitting. She yelled a stream of curses at me.
Grekal screeched as I slammed my sword through her thigh and into the floor. Grekal heaved forward, desperately trying to grab the sword, her disgusting claws slashing and cutting through the air. I pulled my sword from her thigh.
“You have proved your point, let me crawl out of here alive, while the old man’s back is turned,” Grekal begged. “You’ll never see me again. It would be the honorable thing to do.”
“Honor? What do you know of honor?” I growled at her. Gripping my sword with both hands I swung, putting as much force behind the blade as possible and landing it on her neck, right below her chin. Black blood began to pour out. She frantically grabbed at the crater in her neck trying to stop the bleeding and prevent the inevitable, but the wound was far too deep. Blood continued to flow until her hands fell limp from her neck, sliding to a stop at her sides. Her limbs began to snap and twist. She violently shook, flipping from one side to the other, flopping around like a fish.
Panicking I yelled, “Dante! Something is happening.” Dante ran to me as fast as his old legs would let him. “What is happening? Why is she twisting like that?” I asked.
“Well, to be completely honest, I have never seen anyone kill a member of the Devil’s Legion before. In fact, I think you and the Saints are the only ones to have done so,” Dante said, sounding almost proud. Grekal’s skin began to crack, and out of the cracks came red bursts of light, until she vanished, leaving nothing but a gray skull. “Yep, definitely dead,” Dante concluded.
I bent down, my back aching, and picked up the skull with my free hand. I spun the skull around, examining every inch of it. “Are these things human?” I asked Dante.
“Did it look human?” he sarcastically replied. I turned to face him with a solemn expression.
“Not on the outside,” I admitted. “But this skull sure as hell does,” I said, tossing it to him. “Maybe you can find a place on one of those cluttered shelves for it,” I added, forcing a smile.
I patted the little old man on the shoulder and walked past him, back to Scarlet. Lucy was fast asleep, curled up under the old metal bed. Scarlet’s skin looked young and warm. “Is she going to be alright?” I asked.
“As far as I can tell she should be, but she needs rest. Much like yourself,” Dante softly replied. “You can rest on one of the pews on the lower floor.”
“Thank you for helping her even though we both know you did not want to,” I told Dante. He smiled, then motioned to the elevator. I seized my sword, stepping over where Grekal had lain not even five minutes ago.
The steel buttons on the elevator were still ice cold from Grekal’s presence. The wicked ride of the elevator was hardly even noticeable. My mind was numb with thoughts of Grekal’s empty glaring eyes and sickening laughter, and the blood spilled by my hand — my first time ever killing. “Was that thing ever human?” I asked myself out loud. “Does it matter?” The elevator lurched to a halt. The doors creaked open, revealing the dark, dank room we had first walked into. I pushed my way through the heavy curtains, found the first pew and collapsed onto it.
VII
“So you expect me to believe,” Scarlet said, “the girl that could barely hold a sword without shaking not only killed Grekal, but cut her legs off and then executed her?”
“Um, yeah, that’s exactly how it went,” replied Dante.
Off in the distance the sound of small claws clicking on the stone floor began to grow louder and louder, and all at once my chest was hit with a heavy weight and my face with a slobbery tongue. “Ugh,” I moaned.
“Get down mutt! You are going to hurt her more!” yelled Scarlet.
“No, no, it’s fine,” I laughed, pushing Lucy off of me.
The wood of the pew I was lying on was warm to the touch and glowing from the morning sunlight. As I sat up the sun hit my eyes. It was pouring in from every corner of the now-open roof. The smell of morning dew overtook my senses. Colorful birds bounced and played through the treetops, fighting over scraps of berries and nuts for breakfast.
A large red bird swooped down from the canopy, fluttering to a stop on Dante’s shoulder. The bird was different shades of red, mixed with some grays and blacks. Its beak was bent and aggressive-looking, almost like a hook. The bird nestled its beak close to Dante’s ear, beginning to chatter in a low pitch. Dante leaned into it unfazed, like this was a normal thing. He nodded along to the bird, letting out some sighs and grunts of agreement. Once the bird was done chattering it looked deeply at Scarlet and me, then it took off through the roof, its massive wings glowing red in the sunlight.
“This was fun and all, but you girls should get moving,” Dante said, sounding very concerned.
“What’s the rush, what did the big bird tell you?” Scarlet asked.
Dante’s face went sour. “He has informed me that hordes of Ghouls have begun to make their way west.”
“Towards Redwood,” I acknowledged, my gut feeling like someone was twisting it with a pipe wrench.
“So we should be fine here for a while then?” Scarlet said confidently.
Dante looked Scarlet in the eyes. “Do not be foolish, girl. You of all people should know that when Gorelock realizes what has become of his wretched sister, he will send those two brats to collect your heads. My cathedral will be the first place they visit, considering it was the last place he could have seen through her eyes — if she was telling the truth about all of that nonsense.”
“We cannot stay either way,” I told Scarlet sternly, as I stood from the pew. “You promised me that if I helped you get here, you in turn would help me find my boy Jake and get to Redwood.” Scarlet just nodded in agreement. “Now, once I find my stuff, we can get out of here and on our way to Redwood,” I declared.
“Already done, young Echo,” Dante smiled, pointin
g to the door. My pack and sword were both leaning against the wall next to the door.
Dante led us past the pews and curtains, towards the large wooden doors that stood tall at the front of the cathedral. With a grunt he pushed one side open. Outside, the forest was sunny, green and full of life, almost rivaling Dante’s indoor bird sanctuary. It was hard to believe evil creatures like Grekal and Gorelock could exist amongst such beauty.
Dante turned to face us, bearing a forced smile. Maybe he was actually sad to see us go. “Okay, do you have everything?” he asked Dante, looking us up and down.
“Not quite,” I laughed. “Lucy, let’s go!” I hollered, and almost on cue Lucy came trotting through the door.
“Are you sure you do not want to come with us?” Scarlet asked Dante.
“I will not be traveling with you, there is too much here for me,” he said, looking back into his cathedral. “I can’t leave my friends to die,” he added, tears leaking from his eyes.
“When Gorelock arrives he will kill you without hesitation, is that what you want?” Scarlet asked, raising her voice. “And for what? A few rats with wings?”
Dante laughed, his forced smile fading into a real one. “You better learn to control that temper, it will more than likely lead you into trouble. Don’t be so worried my dear; I have had run-ins with such creatures before,” Dante laughed, pointing to the scar on his face.
Scarlet huffed and turned towards the open door. “Your funeral, old man,” she mumbled.
“Come along, mutt,” Scarlet yelled back at Lucy, who had found her way back into the cathedral again, jumping and biting at the small birds who flew too low.
“Goodbye, Dante,” I said.
I grabbed Dante and squeezed him close. He smelt like a strange combination of old ketchup and fresh lawn clippings. I had only known him for at most thirty hours, but it already felt like I was saying goodbye to an old friend. Maybe it was just the fact that he was willing to help a few strangers with such an intense problem for nothing in return. I let go of the little funny-smelling old man, smiled and then turned towards the steps.
