by Rain Oxford
Parker screeched and fell, the shotgun roaring. Derek spun with the flashlight, his gun out. The old man was sprawled on the kitchen floor ten feet from them, staring and pointing at what he had tripped over. Ann screamed as the light landed on it.
It was the body of a man, naked, badly decomposed. Parker scrambled crablike away, eyes wide and body shaking. Ann moaned and sagged against Derek, her legs weak and trembling.
Other than the doorway leading to the basement, there was no way out of the kitchen except for the way they had come in. Anything they were going to do had to be done fast; there was no time to think or plan.
“Come on!” Derek’s voice was low and desperate. He grabbed Parker by the arm, supporting Ann as well as he could. “I don’t know what’s out there, but we’ve got to try to get past it and out of here. If we stay, we’re trapped.”
He began pulling the girl and old man toward the door. After a moment, they picked up the idea and the three of them scrambled through the dining room and into the main part of the house. To their left was the staircase; to the right lay the front door, and whatever guarded it. They stopped, holding their breath; whatever it was, was moving. Its breath was harsh and rasping, and they could hear scuffing sounds on the wet floor.
It was coming towards them.
Derek stabbed into the darkness with the beam from the flashlight. It was there, moving silently now. The dim light illuminated the grotesque face and shoulders. The reddish eyes burned with hatred in the leering face.
“Oh, sweet Jesus, what is it?” Parker croaked in disbelieving horror. The three backed slowly toward the stairs.
Derek pushed Parker and Ann in the direction of the stairs, shoving the flashlight into the old man’s hands. “Get up the stairs. Lock yourself into one of the rooms, try to find a way out, anything. I’ll try to keep it back, but if I can’t…” He turned and braced himself between the creature and his friends, the pistol Mike had given him gripped in both hands.
It was standing six feet away.
It was dark, but Derek could feel the hellish fire in the eyes rake at his body, feel the ugly, evil force that radiated from the creature in waves of cold and odor. He felt himself weaken with fear and hopelessness and despair. He knew it would kill him, and then the old man, and then…
Ann.
The creature moved closer, almost touching him, reaching for him.
Rage. Rage boiled up from the depths of his soul, rage and hatred for this evil, empty destroyer of life. Rage and hatred so powerful it seared through his body and brain, pain and power.
He emptied the gun into it at point blank range.
The clawed hand of the creature slashed at him with inhuman, unmerciful force, shredding his jacket and shirt and tearing into his chest. He felt thick, choking black emptiness flooding over him. From far away he felt his body lifted and thrown, and he was falling…
* * *
Parker’s trembling hands slammed the bolt home in the heavy door and slumped against the thick wooden panels. Ann lay on the floor beside him, dazed. She shook her brain. Parker knelt by her side and squeezed her shoulder.
“You locked it,” she whispered, still shaking her head. “You can’t lock the door. He’s still down there. Derek…”
“It’s no good, Ann.” Parker turned away, hiding the pain and the tears that ran down his lined cheeks. “It’s no good. It got him, and I couldn’t do anything to help him. God damn it!” His voice broke and he pounded his knees with his fists, helplessly. “God-damn-helpless-old-man!”
“Maybe he’s alright,” she said, her voice desperate. “Maybe he’s only hurt and he needs us.” She reached for the door, but Parker caught her hands.
“No, Ann, we can’t. It would only get us too.”
Ann buried her face in his shoulder, crying silently, her body shaking. He held her tight, his own tears falling into her hair. After a minute he wiped his face with his sleeve and gently pushed her back.
“Ann, we have to try to get out of here. Can you make it?”
“I don’t care. I don’t care if it gets me anymore.”
Parker shook her by her shoulders. “You have to care. We can’t just give up.”
“Why? Tell me why,” Ann said, dully.
“You loved Derek, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then we have to do it for him. Did he die for nothing?”
Ann looked down and nodded, sighing hard. Parker picked up the flashlight and ran the light across the walls of the bedroom. It took him a moment for him to realize with horror what was missing from the room.
“Oh, shit!”
“What?”
“There’re no goddam windows!” He jumped up, the flashlight clutched in his hand. At one side of the room was a door. A closet. He jerked it open and tore clothes away from their hangers, searching the walls. Nothing. No way out. He came out of the closet slowly and stood in the middle of the bedroom.
Ann came across the room and stood by him, her head turned toward the locked door. “Listen!”
They stood frozen, not daring to breath.
It was barely audible at first. Then, suddenly, the air grew still, the howling wind dropping away until a blanket of silence covered everything. Everything except for the soft scuffling sound and harsh breath on the far side of the thick door. It grew louder. Sharp claws scraped across the wooden door panels. With horrified fascination, they saw the doorknob turn one way, then the other, then stop. It grew quiet; the breathing and scraping sounds diminished. Nothing moved. It was as if, for an instant, existence had halted.
They felt it first; a vibration in the floor that grew until even the walls seemed to tremble with fear, the roaring scream of rage that came from beyond the range of human hearing until it thundered. And still it grew louder, their frail human bodies buffeted by the twisting, evil current of sound.
The door bulged in, twisting in its frame, splintered cracks streaking across it. Thick, curved claws ripped through, tearing the strong wood like paper. With a shuddering groan, the door burst inward, leaving the frame and surrounding walls a shattered ruin.
It stood leering at them, spittle dripping from its open jaws. Then the beast came at them.
Parker moved in front of Ann, incredibly swift for an old man. He held the only possible weapon in the room; a sturdy wooden chair, which he swung with all of the strength in his tired body at the thing’s face. With one hand, the beast smashed it aside, the other slicing into Parker’s skinny shoulder. He screamed in agony as the claws ripped through his flesh. His scream died as his head and body collided with the wall. A gurgling groan came from his throat. He tried to move, but couldn’t. He could only watch as the creature advanced on the helpless girl.
Ann moaned and fell to her knees, covering her face with her hands. “Oh God, no, please noooo…”
“No.”
The voice was heavy and strong, an order that filled the room powerfully. The beast stopped as if struck physically. Then it snarled and twisted to face the new enemy. With shock and fear it drew back.
“You!”
Past the beast, Ann could see a figure framed in the shattered doorway, a figure surrounded by a rippling, pulsing light. The light grew until it spread through the room. She rubbed at her eyes. It couldn’t be real, none of it could be real, because it was Derek…
And something else.
Derek was there, his clothes hanging and bloody, but from his body flowed an aura. An aura that took form of a man! Taller, more massive, the form seemed superimposed over Derek’s body, dominating the two. Both moved as one. The larger was covered with the outline of leather and iron armor.
And in the right hand hung the Axe.
In unison, the form of the man and the warrior lifted the shining weapon. Half of the blade glowed brilliantly, the other half and the shaft seemed to exist as light alone. Faint voices, as if from another place or time, floated through the room, carrying the sound of screaming, dying men.
The powerful, piercing eyes under the heavy brows of the form flashed and burned into the beast.
“I have waited,” the voice said. “I have come for you. I shall wait no more, for I have brought you death!” The form stepped forward, the Axe flooding the room with shimmering light.
The beast snarled and leaped, slashing with deadly talons at his enemy’s chest. Derek and the armored form glanced down as the blood flowed from the wound, the wound that stretched from the left breast up the center of the chest. “What was, is once more.”
The Axe flashed in its own light, arching through the air until it met with flesh of the beast. It howled as the Axe descended again, and then again, cutting deeply into life. With one last scream it vomited, its body twitching on the floor. At last it lay unmoving.
From the vomit rose a green, stinking fog. Thin black tendrils of hellish life writhed deep inside, a spider’s web thing of Evil that twisted and curled and shriveled in on itself until it was gone. The green fog faded to nothing.
The two forms that were one raised their eyes from the dead beast. “Let Evil fall before Me. It is done.” The deep voice echoed hollowly.
Derek and the form fell to one knee, the light surrounding them brightened for a moment, and then it began to fade. Slowly, in waves of light, the two fell together to the floor. The larger form shimmered, losing shape, turning into a mist that broke apart in glowing wisps.
The Axe began to shine, its light rising to blinding intensity. For a moment, it wavered, then dimmed until there was nothing but the barest outline to show where it had been. A sighing sound, like a softly moaning wind, filled the room. As it faded, the light flowed away with it.
The still form of Derek lay on the floor, alone.
Ann crawled to him, crying in the silent house.
Epilogue
The old man sat on the edge of the porch, playing with a baby girl. Now and then, he would lift his bony hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight, and watch bright colored birds sing and fly from tree to tree, or to watch the big, bare-chested man splitting firewood. He enjoyed the flash of the axe blade in the sun, and the crisp thunking sound when the blade struck the wood.
The screen-door behind him creaked, and a young woman with honey colored hair sat down at his side. She took his old hand in hers and held it, also watching the man with the axe.
“I love him so much,” she said simply to the old man.
“You should,” he answered, and squeezed her hand gently.
The man splitting wood worked smoothly, content in his work, happy with his life. True, he still had nightmares once in a while, but they were fewer and not as bad. He saw his wife on the porch and waved to her.
It had been weeks before he knew who he was, and months before he could talk well enough to carry on a conversation. There were many things he knew, though he didn’t know why he did. They were just there when he needed them. Sometimes he cried when things got too confusing, but they loved him, and the puzzle was coming together, even if it was slow.
He smiled and swung the axe.
About the Author
Rain Oxford is a teacher who has been writing for more than half of her life. The Asian-influenced cultures she creates were inspired by Japan, where she attended Ritsumeikan University in Kyoto. She does most of her writing in a secluded cabin in the woods with a four-pound Maltese as a companion. When she’s not teaching or creating worlds, she usually enjoys cooking, playing the piano, or photographing exotic wildlife.
Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/pages/Rain-Oxford/705026086262892
Website: https://sites.google.com/site/rainoxfordauthor/
Books by Rain Oxford
The Guardian Book 1: The Guardian’s Grimoire
The Guardian Book 2: The Dragon’s Eyes
The Guardian Book 3: God of the Abyss
The Guardian Book 4: The Demon’s Game
The Guardian Book 5: The Wizard’s War
Elemental Book 1: Dark Waters
The Awakening
