Necrophobia (25 page)

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Authors: Mark Devaney

Tags: #Fantasy, #Sword and Sorcery, #magic, #zombie, #vampire, #necromancer

BOOK: Necrophobia
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“Keep your distance from it you bloody fool!” Locke roared to make himself heard over the furious abomination. Locke’s crossbow bolts failed to register on the mutilated horror stalking towards them.

The abomination curled up its mismatched fist and lashed out towards Locke. The chains binding its left hand whipped towards the crouching officer and tore into the pillar with devastating force. The metal chain ripped through the stone pillar causing cracks to widen and run up the stonework. The tip of the chain-whip lashed into his breastplate and dug into the silver metal with a tortured screech. He screamed in pain as he fell backwards, his armour ripping away as the chain-whip withdrew.

“Damn it!” Cynthia cursed again and with a grunt of exertion channelled a continuous stream of electricity into the horror towering over the fallen Night Guard. The beam of light seared through the air and discharged explosively into the mountain of undead flesh and sinew. It convulsed and twitched as another strangled cry escaped its monstrous maw. With Locke forgotten, it stumbled towards Cynthia with murderous intent, the lightning searing its chest troubled it little. Seizing the opportunity Reiner rushed towards Locke and helped him up; his bloodstained breastplate shattered and useless. Locke coughed as he staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth.

“I’ve had worse.”

“I doubt it.” Reiner replied shouldering the sergeant and grabbing the fallen crossbow with his spare hand.

Locke spat out another mouthful of blood and pulled himself free. “Trust me.” He yanked his crossbow away and fumbled with another bolt. Reiner nodded and unleashed his own lightning blast at the towering blasphemy as he rushed to help Cynthia. Her magic was fading fast, exhaustion already visible on her face.

“Get away I’ll handle this!” The captain struggled to make himself heard over the deafening discharge of magic.

She nodded wearily and sagged as her continuous stream ended. Her breathing heavy and ragged. The abomination swung towards her with a claw of fused muscle and exposed bones ripping through its hand. She managed to stumble backwards at the last second leaving the worst of the slash to be absorbed by the Caelite armour. She raised her spear in defiance and the tip tore through the overlapping and exposed sinew that formed its arm. The creature didn’t bleed, instead green flame erupted of the creatures wounds, wreathing it in an unhealthy light. The flames intensified as the blasphemy roared in pain. The creatures backhanded her off her feet with a sharp cry and slammed her into a pillar several metres away. Her sword belt ripped off and clattered to the floor. The pillar cracked as she crashed into it and slumped to the floor with a stifled whimper. Cynthia struggled to breathe or rise, she gasped and choke for air. The blasphemy ignored Locke’s crossbow bolts peppering into the exposed bones and spines of the creatures back. Green embers flared out with each impact and grasped at the air.

Reiner rushed towards the blasphemy guided by fury and desperation. He narrowly avoided the jagged metal chain trailing each swing of the abomination’s arms and stabbed forwards with his spear. His spearhead bit deep into the horror’s chest; the muscle and greying flesh were hardened and resisted entry. Unable to pull out his spear before the creature ripped him apart he leapt backwards. Assisted by aeromancy Reiner evaded the furious slashes and landed just out of reach. The blasphemy’s attention was temporarily drawn to the spear lodged within its chest, now wreathed in unholy flame. It fumbled and yanked at the dragonbone spear, ignoring the unarmed Caelite captain. Reiner braced himself as he focused his energy, his reserves of magic empty and the ambient background magic level lower than usual he struggled to form a spell.

Cynthia lay still on the floor, he could just about hear her pained and rapid breaths through the guttural thrashing of the undead horror.

Locke fired again and cursed as his crossbow proved ineffectual against the mass of mutilated body parts. “Bloody useless this thing!” He slung his weapon and limped over towards Cynthia with his own sword drawn. “Can you manage?”

“Don’t worry about me. Check on her.” Reiner replied as he tensed himself.

With both hands he channelled his magic towards the creature — not as lightning but as a command over the air itself. Focusing his will upon the air he yanked the stumbling abomination with all the might he could muster. It was too heavy to lift, too heavy to throw back but distracted and unbalanced he could pull it forwards. Losing its grip the undead horror fell forwards onto the spear still embedded onto its chest. Its titanic weight pushing the blade deeper through the creature and out of its back as it fell. Emerald flames and tendrils exploded outwards from both wounds and snaked around the creatures chest, grasping to knit the flesh together. Reiner rushed forwards and retrieved Cynthia’s fallen sword. Holding his spear in one ahand he impaled the chain-wrapped arm of the abomination into the stone floor. Pinned in two places now the blasphemy roared and struggled to rip itself free and tear Reiner in half. Reiner threw himself to one side and landed in a roll as the creature slashed out at him. Unsheathing his own blade Reiner sliced at the creature’s flailing arm causing more emerald light to spill forth. The Caelite Captain stood above the pinned creature and waited for another downwards slash before he pinned the misshapen hand with his boot and pinned it with his sword. Unable to move at all the blasphemy reared its eyeless and mangled face towards him, its mandibles gnashing the empty air.

“Abomination, I release you.” Reiner prayed as hard as he could before reaching into his waist pouch and retrieving Locke’s phial. He forced the vial deep into the blasphemous mouth with as much force as his weary muscles would allow. The phial shattered inside and smoke erupted from within the creature, the holy water reinforced by his prayer and the depth of his belief burned within. It thrashed in pain and emitted a shrill and piercing scream that left Reiner’s ears ringing as the holy water ravaged it. The emerald flames fuelling the abomination snaked out of the open maw and coiled around Reiner’s armoured hand and arm gripped tight. It was one of the most unpleasant and disgusting sensations he’d experienced in recent memory. The touch of those icy cold flames wrapping themselves around him made him recoil in horror, each tendril chilled and slimy. As the creature died he retrieved his sword from the creatures spasming hand and drove it into the monstrous head again and again until the blasphemy stopped moving and the flames extinguished.

“Did you know that would work?” Locke shouted as he clutched his side with one hand and checked Cynthia’s wounds with the other.

“I had faith.” He replied without meeting the sergeants eye. He yanked free Cynthia’s blade and his spear with disgust. “How is she?”

“Not good.” Locke conceded, worry evident in his voice.

 

The silence in the warehouse became palpable, only the whistling wind flowing in through window cracks broke the stillness. They reached a stairwell leading to the lower basements connecting two of the parallel warehouses together. The fluorescent lights were set on low, providing just enough light to see where they were going. The constant buzzing of the overhead lights covered their footsteps as they began their search of the first basement. Up ahead one of the lights in the corridor had been shot out by a wayward crossbow bolt and glass littered the floor. An unpleasant stench of sweat and fear filtered down the hallway towards them as they neared a junction. A pool of murky water collected in the edges and some of the walls were splashed and still dripping with moisture.

“Hydromancy.” Hayley whispered keeping her crossbow steady as they rounded a corner.

The source of the smell revealed itself as a fresh body propped up against a wall. Faint smears of blood trailed down the wall and two crossbow bolts to the chest and one to the throat soon explained why. The man’s body was of indeterminate age and paler than anyone Claire had ever met. His sunken malnourished skin was almost translucent were it not for the thick layers of grime and filth coating it. The pool of water surrounding him and soaking his clothes seemed a macabre attempt at washing away his impurities.

“Vampire.” Hayley prodded the body with the silver toe of her boots and noted the faint hissing of the corpse’s flesh burning. “Looks like a fresh convert.”

“You sure about that?” Claire risked kneeling closer. Though lifeless, she was all too familiar with attempts at playing dead. She kept her bow drawn and the arrow focused upon his withered and burned face. “I don’t see any teeth.”

Hayley chuckled softly. “That takes time. Trust me. He’s fresh, and it looks like he didn’t last long.”

Claire nodded. “When I arrived here, I watched a vampire girl burn to death when exposed to rain. How come he’s not steaming? He’s soaked almost to the bone.”

“Huh.” Hayley knelt beside Claire and tilted the lifeless head with the tip of her crossbow. “That is odd now that you mention it. Good eye.”

Claire smiled, the expression lost beneath the silver grimace of her helmet. “Maybe that takes time too?”

“Maybe.” Hayley did not sound convinced but stood back up keeping her crossbow trained. “Looks like Thorn’s boys have been through here at least. That’s a good sign.”

They soon reached an open space beneath the main floor of the warehouse stocked with old machinery and spare parts. The machines were inactive but still warm to the touch. An electromagic generator pulsed and thrummed as it converted and stored magical energy. A thick blue-coloured mass of wires connected the generator to the upper levels and a faint glow suffused them. It was far bigger and more complicated than anything she’d seen back home. Hayley appeared beside her and tapped her on the shoulder. Following her point she saw a darkened body propped up against a mass of spare metal parts. With a nod they circled around and moved closer. The tell-tale glint of silver and the long black hooded coat soon revealed the identity of the body. The neckguard was torn and ripped away and the helmet battered and dented. The head lolled back against the machine parts. Claire removed the officer’s mask to see a woman’s face looking back at her, her expression vacant and seemed to stare through her. Her ravaged bloodstained throat suggested something had bitten through her neck and drained her dry. There was little doubt what sort of creature could have done that.

“She’s not breathing.” Claire replied with her gloves removed. “She’s still warm.”

Hayley swore and kicked the fallen sword across the ground with a loud clatter. With a loud clank something moved within the room knocking over an ill-balanced stack of crates. A figure appeared and unleashed an ear-splitting shriek. Loose fitting rags covered the malnourished fledgling vampire. Its eyes burned with hate and hunger as it sprinted towards them. Claire loosed her arrow aiming for the centre of the vampire’s mass but it became a blur and threw itself to one side. The arrow sailed past it striking the wall behind it. Hayley’s crossbow fired and the bolt struck the vampire in the chest with considerable force. It screamed as it stumbled backwards and smoke erupted from the fresh wound. Hayley ran forwards dropping her crossbow and withdrawing her sword. She rammed into the faltering vampire with her shoulder, the silver pauldrons burning it on contact as it fell to the floor. Without hesitation she stabbed her sword downwards.

“They’re fast but you can use their momentum against them.” Hayley shouted over the dying vampire’s wail.

Upon hearing more shrieks rushing towards them Claire grabbed another arrow from her quiver and waited. Another fresh vampire appeared its eyes sighted on Hayley withdrawing her blood-stained sword flanked by two more. Claire’s arrow struck the creature in the chest and it tumbled into one of its fellows. Before it realised what had happened she followed up with a second arrow straight to the leg. Her practised hands almost a blur as she nocked more arrows.

The Night Guard officer raised her left hand and sent forth a torrent of water across the approaching predators. The water splashing across them did little yet they were undeniably cursed with vampirism. Their mouths dripping with fresh blood and a ravenous expression. Already one of them was yanking out Claire’s arrow with a savage grunt. The wound healing before her eyes. One of the taller vampires threw itself towards Hayley and impaled itself on her awaiting blade with another shriek. Claire reached for her own sword with a grimace. This would be the first time she’d used it in a real fight. Sensing more prey the other vampire lunged at her with inhuman speed. Dodging its grasp by mere inches her narrow escape more intuition than reflex. She lashed out with Amelia’s sword and the beautiful rapier bit home slicing into its contorted face. It stumbled and grasped at its face in pain, already the gash began to repair itself.

Not made of silver then.
Seizing the initiative she stabbed forward with the sword again. This time the tip caught the vampire in the throat and another scream bubbled out. She recoiled in disgust even as she pushed the blade further. Though not squeamish by a long shot it was an unpleasant experience. To her horror the blade caught inside the vampire and she struggled to pull it free, the wound sealing around the metal with a horrific sucking noise. She kicked out and the sword slashed outwards as the blade tore its way out. The vampire fell silent to the floor its head almost decapitated. Its pale and translucent flesh no longer sewing itself together. Bile rose in her throat but before she could breathe the last vampire slammed into her. Now free of any injury and her arrows no longer embedded itself in its flesh it threw her to the ground. With a salivating snarl it tore at her, its gnarled hands denting her helmet and ripping at her silver neckguard. The metal burning it on contact but its fury drove it on. She tried reaching for her sword but she’d dropped it as she fell. In a panic she kicked out with her knee guards into the soft flesh of her attacker but it failed to notice. Protected from contact with the silver metal by its rags and its hatred dulling any pain. Beside her Hayley still wrestled with the impaled and snarling vampire. It was gripping onto her for dear life as it struggled away from the sword through its chest.

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