by N M Thorn
Since the morning, Gunz had been trying to suppress his nervousness and irritation, and Theron’s words, like a catalyst, sent him over the edge.
“What’s wrong with you, Theron?” he hissed. Quick like a strike of a snake, his arm shot forward, seizing Theron’s collar. “You’re just another slave here, wearing a collar on your neck. Not even a fighter. Novak will kill you for his amusement without giving it a second thought. Why are you pushing me and Alucard around, like we’re your enemies? We’re on the same side. Don’t you get it?”
Theron snarled, a real animal-like growl escaping his lips and his eyes lit up with a furious orange glow as he started to transform. His fingers wrapped around Gunz’s arm, hooked yellowish claws puncturing his skin. Gunz let go and backed away.
“What are you, Theron?” he asked, staring at him with curiosity. He wasn’t scared. Just curious. Theron in his human form was strong and muscled, but as he started to transform, his muscles seemed to get bigger and bulkier and his eyes changed, resembling the eyes of a wild cat.
Theron caught his calm gaze and exhaled, his anger quickly deflating. “I’m a weretiger,” he replied. “Why?”
“Weretiger? I’ve never seen one before,” said Gunz observing him with interest. “Werewolves are strong. I can just imagine how strong and fast you must be! Why are you letting Novak push you around and treat you the way he does?”
“Yeah, really?” Theron folded his massive arms resentfully. “How about the two of you? Ancient vamp and a Fire Salamander, huh? Well, I can understand Alucard – he is dead, so Novak can make him do whatever he wants. But you, Gunz. You are a goddamn Fire Salamander. I didn’t even know your kind still existed!”
“And did you know Santa also exists?” asked Yaroslav stepping between them, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter.
Gunz tore his eyes off Theron and stared at Yaroslav for a moment, before bursting out laughing. Perhaps it was his overly stretched nerves, but he found all this amusing, ridiculous even. Theron’s yellow eyes darted from Yaroslav to Gunz and he joined them laughing.
The sound of slow clapping bounced through the empty dark hall, and Gunz flinched and spun around. George Novak was standing in the doorway, glowering at them with annoyance.
“I hate to interrupt your… whatever that was,” he said frostily and Gunz felt goosebumps rising on his skin. “But it’s time you remember who you are and why you are here. I can understand these two, but you, Theron! Your job was to keep them restrained, not entertained. And do I see any restraints? No!”
He approached Theron and slapped him across his face. The weretiger gasped, pressing his hand to his cheek and dropped his head.
“I’m sorry, master,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes down.
“I’ll deal with you later,” hissed Novak. “Now, bring these two inside. It’s time to get it over with.” He pivoted on his heels and headed inside the lab.
“Let’s go,” said Theron, his voice dull. He pointed at the door and let Gunz and Yaroslav pass through first.
As soon as Gunz crossed the threshold, his breath caught. The walls of the room were infused with dark magic. This room is a deathtrap, thought Gunz miserably. If I go any farther, I won’t be able to leave unless Novak lets me out. He probed the walls with his Salamander’s senses just to confirm that the wards Novak placed on the lab were considerably above his level of magical expertise.
As he proceeded inside the lab, the word “deathtrap” took on a completely new meaning for him. He saw Angel. Gunz froze in place, holding his breath, unable to take another step. With his arms twisted behind his back, Angel was suspended lifelessly, supported by chains that seemingly weren’t attached to anything, yet they were holding him restrained in midair.
He was in his true form and his dark hair hung in limp strands over his face. His trench coat lay on the chair next to a table and his shirt was ripped on his chest. Dark red runes were dimly glowing on the chains holding him, and thick drops of blood were trickling down from under the manacles.
“Angel,” whispered Gunz, his body filled with lead.
Ignoring everything around him, he approached his friend and gently lifted his hair. Angel was conscious. He raised his eyes and Gunz shuddered. His eyes were completely black, and it was like staring into the void itself – nothing but infinite emptiness. Gunz held Angel’s gaze, his heart twisting with sadness, and death stared back at him from the void of his eyes. Angel opened his mouth, but no sound came out and his face contorted in pain.
Gunz felt someone’s hand squeezing his shoulder, roughly pulling him away. He stepped back, slowly gaining a grasp on reality and looked around. The lab was an empty room with light gray walls. At least a few thousand square feet, it was as large as any warehouse. Gunz had expected to see some equipment, vials with chemicals, syringes, microscopes or anything that would validate the word “lab”, but there was nothing like that in the room.
The windows were tightly closed with heavy window shutters, even though it was dark outside. The electric lights were off, and the room was filled with the shimmering light of candles. The candles were everywhere – on the table, chairs, and on the floor along the walls. A slight burnt smell lingered in the air and long shadows, thrown by unsteady candlelight, were shifting on the floor and walls.
Except for a few empty jars, there was only an office multiline phone on the table. Mrak Delar was sitting in one of the chairs, slightly leaning forward with his hands crossed on his lap. With his long hair in disarray and deep dark circles under his eyes, the Master of Power looked drained. Novak stood next to him, observing Gunz with a crooked smirk.
“Alucard,” he said with a light wave of his hand, but Gunz sensed the dark energy of his malignant magic spiking around him. “Why don’t you take a knee, my son. Our mutual friend Gunz and I have business to attend to. I’ll deal with you after I’m done with him.”
Gunz glanced at Yaroslav and cold sweat beaded his forehead. The vampire’s eyes were almost as empty as Angel’s. His face relaxed and he slowly lowered down to one knee, bowing his head. Gunz carefully checked him with his Salamander’s senses, just to confirm that the necromancer was controlling him.
He glanced back at Angel’s desperate situation and a sudden wave of fury rushed through him, igniting his fire. Despite his controller set to maximum, the fire energy enveloped him, and the collar responded with an intense electric shock that almost brought him down to his knees. He grunted, his hands locking and unlocking at his sides as the flames broke through, wrapping around his arms.
Novak’s eyes widened in shock and he pulled the controller out, checking its settings. Then he threw the controller back on the table and turned to Mrak Delar.
“Control him, Master of Power,” he hissed, anger making his voice shake. “I don’t understand how it’s possible, but he is able to channel his elemental power through the gray stones magic. I’m about to begin and I can’t afford a rebellion or any kind of interruptions from him. Control him or I will squash him like a bug!”
Mrak Delar got up and slowly walked toward Gunz, his every step making the floor quake. Gunz raised his eyes at him, realizing with shock that maybe for the first time in his life, the Ancient Master wasn’t in complete control of his power. Mrak Delar stopped a few feet away and took a deep breath.
“Gunz, do not fight. Let go,” he ordered, channeling the elemental power of Fire. His eyes lit up with red light and he extended his arm forward, ready to strike.
Do not fight? Let go? That’s a new one. Ignoring the pain, Gunz channeled more of his power, focusing on his own heart, getting ready to fight the Master of Power’s control. Mrak Delar slammed him with his power, but Gunz didn’t feel the intent to control him. Instead, Mrak’s power wrapped around him like a dense fire-shield.
What kind of game is this evil bastard playing now? Gunz thought. In a split-second decision, he focused his fire energy on the Master of Power’s heart. He felt it beating within the hold of
his power, just like he felt the heart of a wyvern. He squeezed a little, commanding the Master of Power to let go.
Mrak Delar grunted, fighting his control. “No, you can’t. It’s not possible,” he whispered. “Stop… Gunz, no!” He doubled the flow of his power and with overwhelming clarity, Gunz realized the Ancient Master wasn’t trying to control him.
He raised his eyes, meeting Mrak’s igneous gaze and with shock saw that there was no anger, or mockery, or disdain in his eyes. The Master was silently pleading with him. Gunz’s jaw dropped, but he let go.
“Fire Salamander, down!” Mrak Delar commanded, extending his hand forward.
Gunz felt Mrak’s power surrounding him with the warm embrace of the fire energy, giving him an extra boost of strength. Still not able to wrap his mind around everything that was happening, he slowly went down to his knees.
“All the way down. Or I swear to God, I’ll crush every single bone in your body, boy!” shouted Mrak Delar, increasing the flow of his power. A glowing red hoop materialized around Gunz’s body, gently squeezing him.
Gunz moaned, bending forward, his forehead almost touching the floor, and clasped his hands behind his head, like he would be forced to do if Mrak Delar was fully controlling him.
“That’s right.” Mrak Delar chuckled. “Stay down, until I tell you that you can get up. Am I clear, Salamander?”
“Yes, Master,” replied Gunz, doubts tearing him apart. What the hell is he doing now?
Mrak Delar sauntered back to Novak. “He’s not going to be a problem, Novak,” he said coldly. “Now, before you jump into action, care to share with me what we are doing and why? I thought you were planning to make an elixir of immortality, but all these preparations make me think that there is more to it than just a vanilla elixir.”
Novak walked around the table and pulled two small jars containing a bright red liquid out of one of the drawers.
“Your elixir of immortality, Master. I always keep my word,” he said dryly, offering him both jars. “One for your wife, as we agreed, and as an extra bonus for all your hard work, one for you. After all, you helped me capture Death. And since there are no known ways of killing Death, he may keep a grudge against you.” Novak cackled derisively. “So, you may need some help to avoid his wrath.”
Mrak Delar glanced at Angel and visibly cringed. He took both jars and put them in his pocket, avoiding Novak’s mocking stare.
“Thanks,” he said dryly, “but I still would like to know what you’re planning to do and why.”
“I’m sure you would,” replied Novak arrogantly, “but it’s on a need-to-know basis only. I’m sorry, partner, but I don’t think you fall into that category. Nevertheless, I don’t mind if you stay and assist me. In case our young flaming friend decides to give me a hard time.”
Novak turned his back to Mrak Delar, completely ignoring him and headed to Angel. Channeling his dark magic, he kneeled under him and drew a glowing circle on the floor. He started his chant, drawing something in the air with his fingers. As a dark red rune materialized within the circle, Novak stepped out, wiping his hands on his pants.
Angel’s eyes flew wide-open as he stared at the rune gleaming right under him. The dark void of his eyes lit up with a black light as his gaze darted to Gunz and he jerked in his restraints. Gunz observed his reaction and his heart pounded against his chest as fear swirled through him. It was unmistakable – whatever Novak was doing scared Death himself.
Novak went back to the table and reached for the drawers, but Mrak Delar blocked his way.
“You need to stop what you’re doing, Novak,” he said coldly. “I recognized the rune and I can’t allow you go through with your plan. To create a Living-Dead Flame you need to kill the Fire Salamander and I can’t let you do it.”
“Why is that, Master?” asked Novak snidely. “Did you have a change of heart and suddenly you care about the life of this cocky little lizard?”
“No, I don’t,” replied Mrak Delar, taking a step closer to Novak. “But if Kal finds out what you did to his child, he’ll find a way to kill an indestructible dark sorcerer and I can guarantee that your death isn’t going to be easy.”
Novak cackled. “I’m not afraid of you or Kal. He’s nothing but another puny lizard. None of you stand a chance against me!”
He wielded his magic, gathering it in his hands so fast that Mrak Delar didn’t get a chance to react. A dark stream of undiluted magical energy slammed him in the chest, and he flew across the room, hitting a wall with his back. He fell on the floor, struggling for breath.
“Stay down, Master of Power, if you ever want to see your lovely wife again,” he hissed, staring down at the Ancient Master.
Gunz jerked, ready to spring into action, but caught the warning gaze of Mrak Delar and remained on his knees. In the meantime, Novak went back to his desk and produced a long dagger. The weapon glistened in his hands with the reflected light of the candles. Angel gasped and thrashed in his restraints.
Mrak Delar got back to his feet and covered the space between them in a few jumps, seizing Novak’s wrist. Gunz watched the black eyes of the Master of Power lock with the sinister eyes of the necromancer and held his breath, nauseating fear rising to his throat.
Novak’s eyes didn’t look human anymore. The glowing yellow eyes with dark-red vertical pupils of the Lord of Chaos were staring back at the Ancient Master. Gunz froze staring at the necromancer in horror. Voron was right… Morena infused his soul with the energy of Chaos.
“Did you seriously think you’ve got what it takes to stand up to me?” Novak hissed, and a dark hoop of his magical energy wrapped around Mrak Delar’s neck, raising him up in the air.
Novak twisted his fist, wrapping Mrak tighter in his deadly magic. The Master of Power groaned, fighting him but unable to break free. The necromancer moved his hand up, lifting Mrak Delar higher and turned back to Angel.
“Now, where were we?” He pulled Angel’s torn shirt apart and slashed his chest with the dagger.
A soul-crushing howl erupted from Angel’s lips as steel cut through his flesh. A long gash opened up on his chest but there was no blood. A thick clear liquid, shimmering with silvery light, slowly trickled out of the gruesome wound, falling one drop at a time. The drops didn’t reach the floor, accumulating into a silver orb a few inches above it. Novak watched as the silvery orb grew bigger, his eyes gleaming with a maniacal yellow glow.
Distracted, the necromancer didn’t notice Mrak Delar escaping the restraints of his magic. The Ancient Master drew another rune in the air and infused it with his power. Slamming his hand against it, he whispered a summoning spell.
As he did, the whole building trembled, the windows jingled and the empty jars that were sitting on the table fell and rolled to the floor, shattering into small pieces. The energy of magic seemed to quadruple within a second and a few candles went out as a gust of cold wind rushed through the room. Gunz raised his head, recognizing the magical signature and a slow smile stretched his lips.
Novak spun around and met Mrak’s cold gaze. “You didn’t think that I came alone, did you, necromancer?” growled the Master of Power.
“Who did you summon?” hissed Novak, his eyes looking more serpent-like than before. Since Mrak Delar ignored his question, he yelled again, “Who! Did! You! Summon!”
The walls of the room trembled again, and the windows imploded, showering everyone with shattered glass. An ear-splitting racket filled the room as the attacker started breaking through the wards, fighting the dark magic that blocking the entrance. Novak muttered a spell and a large hidden door, which wasn’t visible before, materialized in the opposite wall.
“I never trusted you, Mrak Delar! And I was right!” he bellowed. Snake-like fangs extended in his mouth, a foul green poison dripping down his chin. “A man who betrays his friends can never be trusted. But you underestimated me, too. I came prepared!”
He snapped his fingers and dark smoke rolled into the lab through
the open door. As the smoke settled down, Gunz saw a small army of demons flooding the lab, polluting the air with its suffocating demonic energy. Some of the demons were possessing human bodies, but most of them were pureblood demons like the ones he saw in the Dark Nav. A stench of sulphur invaded his senses, making his stomach twist with nausea.
The demons possessing the human bodies weren’t a problem neither for him nor for the Master of Power. However, the pure-blood demons were the spawns of hell and they weren’t easy to get rid of. He was ready to get up when the main door flew from its hinges with a thunderous bang and a brilliant white light enveloped the room.
“Aidan,” whispered Gunz, feeling surprised and relieved at the same time.
“Aodh mac Lir!” hissed Novak, staggering backward toward his army of demons.
“A god,” noted Mrak Delar matter-of-factly, gently lowering himself down to the floor. “You see? I’m answering your question, Novak. I summoned a god of the Otherworld to send you back to the dark hole you clawed your way out of.”
“I don’t think your so called god can,” replied Novak smugly, a crooked smirk cracking his arrogant face. “I don’t think any of you have what it takes.”
The white light slowly dimmed down, and Aidan stepped through the threshold. He was in his full godly form, dressed like an ancient hunter with a bow and quiver on his back. In his hand he was holding his sword that was glistening like ice. His eyes burned with the energy of his magic, and the walls trembled slightly responding to his every move.
“Give it up!” roared Aidan, pointing his sword at Novak.
Novak just cackled. He threw a challenging stare at Aidan and focused on Yaroslav. A dark magical energy struck the vampire, surrounding him in a tight cocoon, and he slowly got up to his feet, unsheathing his katana.
“Master, I’m yours to command,” said Yaroslav with a bow, his empty eyes glued to Novak.
“Destroy the Salamander!” yelled Novak at Yaroslav. Then he turned to his demonic army. “Attack! Kill the Master of Power and keep the half-breed busy!”
