Dancing in Darkness: The Damned
Page 8
“Blackwood!”
“Quinn!”
He was running across the field, antique handgun drawn.
She started forward, stumbling, her arm pulled back sharply, suddenly. Evelyn’s eyes widened.
“Get away from her!” Quinn shouted warningly, taking aim while still in motion. The old WWII pistol jumped in his hands, the bullet unerringly whistling past her ear. She heard the rush of air, twisting around to see an undulating wall of living things forming a barrier over the hybrid.
“Don’t shoot!” She yelled desperately even as her feet left the ground.
His next shot pinged harmlessly off the living shield of blackened vines bulging with cancerous lesions.
“But - ” The ground erupted in a veering line straight for him. Quinn leapt aside, coming up in a roll to his knees, emptying the chamber. He grunted and retreated, reloading swiftly. “Shit! What’s with this guy?!”
“He’s one of the nephilim! He can’t be harmed by ordinary means!” As she spoke, she felt her body being lifted higher up and over then released with a suddenness that took her breath away. The scream was torn from her throat, tumbling far to the ground below.
“Blackwo -!” Quinn ran toward her, breaking as he was tackled and sent flying away. He landed in a heap unable to stop his skid. Evelyn flopped over onto her back, tears pooling in her eyes. The air had been knocked from her lungs, her body felt like a bruise inside and out. “Daniel...,” she struggled onto her side, feeling the slink and coil of many linoid-like arms wrapping around her legs and wrists. “I can’t understand your pain...but if you don’t stop this then you’ll be exactly like your father!”
The barrier quivered and slowly fell into fleshy platelets revealing the same small being in the center. His garments were no longer the cloth of humans but black feathers with a dark rainbow sheen and a leather-like material. A single wing had erupted from his back, skeletal bereft of feathers.
A dark angel...
“Perhaps I am my father’s son.”
Evelyn felt herself lifted up again drawn closer.
“They rejected me, you know.” Daniel said, “the humans who took in my child form.”
In a flash, she remembered the list of orphanages in his dossier, paling. “Javan...Hurain.” Farther back with names lost to time. “What...what did you do to them?” She felt strangely calm inside even with the inherent danger. It was well-known how the newly awakened sometimes suffered instability.
“He killed them -!” Quinn shouted, aiming, but holding back the trigger.
“No!” Daniel barked, conflict in his expression. “I never...harmed them.” His gaze grew hard, malevolent. “The Elohim...Yahweh... -”
“Because, you’re one of the damned.” Evelyn gently parted the vines, pulling her limbs free. They trembled at her touch, retreating shyly. Once free, she limped to his side, propelling herself forward through will alone. “It doesn’t have to be this way. You don’t have to be alone.” She touched his face, leading his chin around toward her. Quinn dropped his shooter stance, “oh, hell...,” he muttered, sounding angry with himself.
Daniel took a hold of her hand, staring into her eyes intently. “Is this alright? Am I allowed this?”
Quinn interrupted, talking over anything she was about to say. “ ‘course you are! Sometimes it’s best not to question life and just go with the flow.” He walked toward them, holstering his handgun. “You should be more laidback like me.”
“You’re a little too laidback.” She observed with a raised brow; the thin line of Daniel’s mouth twitched. She knew he’d played the clown to ease tensions. Their eyes met briefly; Quinn nodded slightly. “C’mon, I borrowed the car. Let’s get - ”
They all felt the deep groaning in the earth, the sound echoing up deep from the depths. Fear sparked in Evelyn’s eyes. Quinn tensed and reached for the Colt as she went for the Magnum. The slightest of tremors rocked the ground, displacing shattered frost. She exhaled once then the ground simply wasn’t there.
***
Hell broke loose.
That was the only way to describe it.
They were thrown backward with the buckling ground. Zac landed hard on his side, bruising his arm and hip. Blackwood had disappeared among the hillocks of displaced earth. Hurain was the only one still standing amid the chaos. Shock remained etched into his Asiatic features as the chains shot through the ruptured earth. Chains...? No, not chains but reddish maws lined with slavering teeth, snapping at the air, tearing into whatever came into contact with them.
“Sweet Je...sus.” Zac whispered, watching the son of the fallen howl and struggle with the hellbound creatures and then, Blackwood was there, appearing from nowhere all at once slashing at them with her dual-bladed knife, wielding it with breathtaking skill.
It’s not enough, he realized, snapping free from his previous inertia. The Colt lay feet away near the Magnum, he scrambled after them, bringing the Colt’s muzzle up one-handed as the ground split near his legs. Grimly, he leveled the antique pistol at the hissing chain of lipless maws, squeezing the trigger. Grey matter spattered the ground and he was pushing up, emptying the chamber covering Blackwood’s retreat. She looked haggard, her clothes were spattered with blood. Most of it flowed freely from numerous wounds. She had her arm around Hurain’s shoulders, the blades held tight in her free hand.
We’re not going to make it.
He counted the ground gained by heartbeats.
They were almost to the road; Blackwood was climbing up the embankment, she was yelling encouragements to Hurain. “We’re going to make it! We’re almost there!”
The ground split open once more. Horrified beyond belief, he fired once more with the Magnum, but the bullet ricocheted off where it struck, unable to pierce the outer layer. Blackwood’s scream echoed long in his ears after they’d disappeared in the final deluge. Zac was aware of his own voice shouting curses to his God and the fault of the stars. He felt outside himself with the hammer that clicked dry, with the empty bullet pouch on his belt. Any Magnum rounds left had gone with her. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God!” This shouldn’t be happening. The welter was settling in the earth, shuddering and trembling violently. It planned on swallowing them whole into the bowels of the ground.
Purgatory or damnation, his head spun, shakily drawing the switchblade from his pocket. Zac struck at wildly at the cage, his blade bouncing harmlessly off. The mists of night were clearing, peeks of rosy daylight lightened the borders of the waning moon at dawn. Futilely, he hammered the undulating dome of chains, sparks flew from the dulling edge.
What was going on in there?
Why wasn’t she cutting their way out from the inside?
“Hold on!” Zac shouted, trying to tear at the enclosure with his hands, having dropped the knife in his haste. His gloved fingers scrabbled for purchase over the slime and stench arising from the knotted ball. He breathed noisily through his mouth and gagged, losing his balance as the ground buckled once more, shifting apart to accept its noisome burden. As his palms rolled over the ground, something hard and thin came to hand. Its hilt was long and wrapped in green braid, diamond panes of silver flashed like mirrors reflecting his grimed face and its tang was whole, perfect. Zac grasped the Japanese sword by the hilt and ran forward, hacking at the shackles with renewed vigor. Where the blade touched, the entrapment writhed, an acrid watery discharge of blackish fluid streamed freely from the cuts the blade made.
What is this thing...?
For a moment, the outline of a slender woman’s hand grasped the hilt above his own. Zac’s heart slammed in his chest, startled. But, the vision was gone replaced with his own hand slicked in ichorous blood, grasping the sword crudely. The bulk had descended lower into the ground, lower than hip height. He fell upon it, slashing lumps of weeping flesh, only stopping until he glimpsed black leather and the gore-slicked strands of Hurain’s bowed head.
Shit...I almost cut him -!
; He’s human again -?
How is that even possible -?
His mind crowded with questions, finding strength he didn’t know he possessed to lay bare the pair intertwined within. Hurain had shielded her from the worst of the blow, his back had been opened in fleshy riblets, gore covered them both. Zac reached for Blackwood first, fleetingly meeting the dark-eyed gaze of the nephilim. They were eyes that had given up salvation. Then, he knew as the cage grappled him back, reforming with unmistakable malignance:
He’s wants to take her with him.
He wants to damn her in every sense of the word.
Oh, God, no.
They’re only after him -
I can save her.
Zac snatched the forgotten sword from the ground and plunged it almost blindly through the wildly twisting fetters. He heard the other’s cry of pain and stabbed desperately again and again. The ground was slowly caving in, his feet were sliding downward into the unforgivable spiral of purgatory.
Something beneath the blade tip recoiled and he knew he’d struck flesh. With sword close at hand, he dove in, slicing at the vise of the nephilim. At the last second, he glimpsed Blackwood barely conscious within the mire; he grabbed her arm and pulled backward. Hurain surged forward with inhuman strength, his body terribly wounded from the sacred blade. Zac stumbled to the ground, pulling Blackwood with him. The son of the fallen stared back at him from the entrapment of hellspawn, beseechingly.
“Save me.”
He shook his head questioning all that was good in this world the reason why. In the same moment, he swung down once more, stabbing the all-too human hand that reached for her. He never realized that tears wet his face, until Blackwood shoved away from him, lunging for the vanishing blur of humanity swallowed up by the ground, her hand closed on dank air carrying the scent of damnation. Her scream of anguish pierced his heart, echoing in the pale dawn surrounding them.
“Don’t you understand...? Not everyone can be saved.” Zac mumbled, carding his fingers through her fair hair gritty with ash. Tears splotched her streaked face, downturned to the shattered land, grieving, bitter for she knew he had spoken the truth. Unknown to the lost pair huddled on the unforgiving asphalt; a man watched them through expressionless eyes. They would go far, he thought, one day in the future.
TBC-
Dancing in Darkness: The Accursed = Summer 2014
AN: Evelyn was forced to learn a difficult lesson one that will echo on throughout her quest in the next books. A further note from Ushinawa reta Tamashī: Since the chapter opener is from the perspective of Shirakawa Masamune, the names have been reversed to reflect traditional Japanese style.
On another note, ideals of faith and Christianity are not meant to be represented here. The elements reflected herein are not of my beliefs and are here only for entertainment purposes.
My website: https://yumechanproductions.blogspot.com/
Hai - yes or general agreement
Iie: no
Otousan - father.
Ojiisan - grandfather
Sofu - grandfather (informal usage)
Cậu bé của tôi: My boy
Oni: Demon