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The Blighted [Urban fantasy series] 8
Kill the others, he’s mine
The double doors came down with an impressive bang, forced from their hinges by a stiff wind, that blew out or over most of the candles and carried in a swarm of the sick greenish brown screeching creatures.
"Donavan!.. What do we do?" David yelled to be heard over the weird screams. But the creatures weren’t attacking they circled in the rafters.
"Which one of you. BASTARD’S!! Killed my mother?"
Nearly blinded from Marshals headlights pouring in the front door, the three couldn’t make out the speaker.
“I said…” the creatures suddenly went silent as the owner of the angry baritone stormed in, flanked by two other figures back lit by the car. The hunters could only make out their silhouette for a second
“Which one of you BASTARDS KILLED MY MOTHER!!?” Beaded necklaces and bangle bracelets clanking. Stylish brown cowboy boots echoing loudly in the now silent room as she stomped forward completely into view.
They stared at the women speechless. She was a tall lean handsome brunet in her early thirties, wearing low cut skin tight designer jeans, white half shirt, and a light brown fur lined jacket. She was flanked by two slightly younger in ornate blue robes.
One bald and stocky with goatee, the other tall slim hair jell spiked.
"Who.." The women held up a well-manicured hand, red energy rapped around the three stunned hunters. Instantly dissipating around everyone except Donovan.
It pinned his arms to his side constricting a groan out of him, before lifting him three feet off the ground.
She looked surprised the spell hadn’t affected the other two then noticed the sword Marshal was holding.
"Was it you slayer?" With a gesture of her hand Donovan was sent sailing, slamming into the back wall of the pool pit.
Marshal stammered "Wha.?" He didn’t know what the hell she was talking about.
"No...You." She snarled at David spotting the hunters stone on the thin chain around his neck.
Donovan was moving the instant he hit the ground. He was bleeding from the head and the world swam before his eyes. He had a concussion, but he’d been thrown before and knew how to take a fall. He’d gone limp in flight, that and the armor had saved him from any broken bones.
He pulled all his vials out, and fought to focus, sorting them quickly.
He found what he was looking for. PCPJ Protection Circle PJ. Her magic had been strong enough to defeat his protective cross, but maybe not PJ's circle. It was the only card he had to play. If they couldn’t buy some breathing room the fight was going to be real fuckin one sided.
"Kill the others, he’s mine." The women said.
David dove behind a pew to avoid a bolt of radiant yellow fired from her hand. He landed on his back, most of the pew he’d fallen behind was now incased in Ice.
Marshal held his hands out defensively as the men advanced on him. "Wait."
They looked at each other, chuckled and continued to saunter forward.
The swarm begun its squealing again and headed for Donovan, who was crouched poring the potion around himself in a large circle. As he finished the liquid dissipated in a green glow. The cloud of hissing things veered clear of the ward and circled close as possible, screaming louder in frustration.
D****t! He couldn’t see through the horde, and if he attacked the circle would collapse. He was trapped; the newbies were on their own.
He slumped to the ground and watched his captors’ circle.
Where not gettin out of this.... there’s no way they’ll survive.
Then again they did have the hunter’s stone and the Talon, the odds weren’t with them, but stranger things had happed. With nothing better to do he waited.
David panic stricken scuttled on his back under the pews. To where? He didn’t know. To do what? Besides live a second longer, he had no idea. But then there she was. Looking down on him radiating red armor, easily as bright as her mothers had been.
He yelled firing up into her face, she winced as the bullets bounced away before grabbing the weapon. Which promptly turned to dust in her hand.
She grabbed David around the neck and lifted him into the air. His eyes shot wide open as his wind pipe closed. He flailed and punched at her impossibly strong arm, escape forgotten, desperate simply to draw a breath.
"You..." She grabbed his right arm. Pain far worse then the crushed throat enveloped the arm. He tried to scream but couldn’t even breath.
"You..."She said again angling his face down towards hers. "Look at me!" She jabbed him in the chest sending a spike of solid red clear through him, exiting his shoulder blade.
David’s eyes rolled back in his head and he began to shake violently. Air! Air! He could breath. The women’s grip had loosened slightly.
"No...You sorry f**k...It not going to be that easy." She turned the finger.
A pitiful, strangled, whimpering scream filled David’s ears.
He was in so much pain he didn’t even realize it was his.
The hell with this, I should have gone to the cops. Marshal jumped a pew and headed for the window he’d used to get in. He was a half a stride away, when the stone melted and warped sealing his exit.
What the..? There was no time to figure it out, it had to be magic what else.
He spun putting his back to the wall. The two men stopped and headed to either side of him, but he barely noticed them. His mind was reeling at what he was seeing.
It was like he’d steeped into the cover of a heavy mettle album. The horrible noise of the creatures, the destroyed church, the eerie, lighting, from the car head lights in the front of the church, near blackness in the back, and the unearthly red and yellows coming from the three wizards’ in-between.
What the hell had happened? Where was he really? None of this can possibly be happening.
He twitched involuntarily as David in the grip of the women made a horrible noise that fit right in with the creature’s hellish choirs.
"That purple...Its magnificent" The skinny robbed man yelled to his bald counter part staring at Marshal’s sword.
"A slayer." The bald one yelled back.
"You ever kill a Demon slayer before?"
"No...Their suppose to be tough...This guy looks like a p***y."
Marshal just stared helplessly holding the Sword in-between them, mac-10 forgotten. The sword was what was giving them pause.
"Yeah but they did kill the Mistress" Skinny yelled
"I didn’t even know your Mistress" Marshal yelled back pointing the sword from one to the other. The grip felt good in his hands, very good. He wiggled his fingers.
They looked at him with disdain then at the sword with aw.
"Lets not take the chance, summon an Exxus" Baldy said keeping a close eye on the sword.
Marshal flicked the sword in the direction of skinny as the man pulled a bone flute from under his robe. They both flinched at the move, and the movement felt good.
They were afraid of him, of the sword. His heartbeat evened a bit as fear-met resignation and crystallized into purpose. He was probably about to die, but they seemed to think he might have a fighting chance, so fight he would.
Skinny blew the flute it didn’t make a sound. Black ooze poured from the holes and quickly began to pool on the floor in a moving, smoking, stinking, greenish brown heap.
Baldy raised his hand, Marshal expecting death and maybe pain raised the sword instinctively. A blinding yellow flash, thud against the blade, and cold rushing wind.
That’s it, he opened his eyes unhurt and nearly giddy.
Baldy took a step back, this slight sign of fear was all Marshal needed to see. He smiled; somebody was going to pay for destroying his life. He charged him.
Donovan had taken one of his weaker healing potions. It had closed the gash on his head and cleared his thoughts. Which had allowed him to find away to escape. He’d fired a burst into the wooden floor, a few kicks later he was in the crawl space under the pool pit with a pin light in his mouth. He waited for a second to see what the creatures would do.
They screamed louder frustrated that they couldn’t give chase. Good. He crawled towards the wall separating him from the fight, weighing his limited options.
He didn’t hear any gunfire, but he did think he’d heard someone scream. They might be dead already, he had no way of knowing what he was going to step out into.
He stopped and pulled all his holy water out. Four vials and two flasks. If they were still alive he believed he found a way to deal with the horde.
Minions of an old one shouldn’t be so easy to kill with bullets, so he suspected it was the holy water in the anti-v rounds that had killed the flyer. If that was so he had plenty of holy water stashed in the building.
He uncorked one of the flasks and emptied it in splashes all over himself. He still hadn’t figured out a good method of delivery. There were to many for the three of them to handle alone.
That is if they were alive, and if he could get out from under the pulpit fast enough to have the element of surprise. And if he could use that to confuse the situation for a few seconds.... If if if if if, he hated ifs but Ifs were all he had.
The small part of David that could still think, prayed for death. It was as if his organs and muscles had all been removed and replaced with clawing, biting burning hot coals. He tried to escape in his mind, but that only took him to worst places. New places with new pain without even leaving the old pain behind.
He was back in the shoot out shooting that man again and being shot by himself over and over. Still his inside were shred and his flesh burned. He fled deep and was back in jail being gang raped and gang raping himself at the same time. Still his inside were shred and his flesh burned. No. He tried to be nowhere, and was everywhere he never wanted to be again. Inflicting and receiving every bit of harm he’d bore witness to in short life. All at once, in an agony so complete it became all there ever was or would be.
Then it was gone as if it had never been there and he hit the ground hard. The impact of his skull against the floor a welcome reprieve.
"Get up!" She kicked him in the gut sending him sliding under four pews, crashing into one of the downed doors.
David felt his ribs brake, but it was nothing, he was still nearly euphoric to be out of the agony of her grip. He couldn’t move his right arm, he opened his eyes with an effort and immediately wished he hadn’t.
His whole side was scorched; the limb was burned to the bone where she’d grabbed him.
So he tried to pull the .45 with his left hand. Not for her, but to kill himself before she could grab him again.
"No...." He whimpered. She was standing over him.
"What are you going to do with that?" She motioned and the pistol was flung from his hand. Then she bent and reached for him.
He flinched, she paused smiling, then continued slowly. "You like the necklace" She grabbed it admiring the stone. "Yeah me to. Its mine you know, it was a wedding present from my dad to MY MOM!"
She punched him breaking his cheek.
"Since she’s dead..." She sneered tightening the chain around his neck.
"Because you killed her." Choking him with the chain as she lifted him off the ground by the jewel.
"That makes it mine,” she hissed in his ashen face.
The pain returned with a vengeance, once again he couldn’t scream because he couldn’t breath. For this David thanked God, because it meant he wouldn’t be alive much longer. Then he lost himself inside and out to the crowded expanse of torment.
Baldy disappeared in front of Marshal’s eyes a second before he reached him. He swung anyway hitting nothing but air. Footfalls to his right, he swung again, and again nothing.
He turned hart hammering, fear, doubt, and hope fueling a desperately anxious adrenalin high. Skinny took a step back still playing the flute.
The goo pool had burned into the floor, and was taking on the shape of one of the little things only man size and without wings.
Marshal took a step to rush the man, but skeletal arms, shot from the side of the goo pile, a large yellow pupilless eye snapped opened, a mouth formed and the creature screamed at him.
The sound wave hit him first. A disorienting, heavy, deep, defining, whisper he felt as much as he heard. It carried behind it the breath. This froze him in his tracks causing two uncontrollable convulsions of vomit.
Movement to his rear, he spun trying not to vomit again, swinging franticly, and hitting nothing. But he did see David!!!
David was covered in swirling red, much darker and brighter then the aura around the women that held him. His eyes bulged and his face was twisted and ashen.
Where all going to die...
Marshal wasn’t ready, he didn’t want to die. But there was no escape. So he charged her screaming; he hadn’t decided to do it, something had just snapped.
The women turned and raised her hand. Marshal didn’t stop just brought the sword down defensively in front of his face. The world spun as a pew smashed into his body from the side, crushing him against the wall.
He was stung, but heard himself chuckle as he pushed the pew off. Whatever the armor was made of it was good. He’d taken harder blows on the football field. Another piece of pew flew out off the darkness headed for his face.
Pressure in the pocket.
He scrambled out the way charging her again, leaving it to shatter against the wall. Another pew flung low, he hurdled it but a gust of wind caught him in the air sending him crashing back into the wall.
The pain was gone.
Where am I?
A war cry.
David opened his eyes drinking it all in. The woman was holding him and the white dude was trying to save him. David watched helplessly as the pew hit Marshal. Dared to hope as Marshal hoped right back up, but then he was down again looking hurt this time.
"Do I have to do every thing myself!" The women yelled pulling her hand back a ball of red energy quickly accumulated. She brought her hand forward, gunshots, rounds zipping and ricocheting around David.
Her hand pitched to the side. The room lit in red as a bolt annihilated six feet of wall beside Marshal.
She turned sneering at Donovan who was crouched in the darkness in front of the pool pit, reloading his .45.
"Why are they still alive!" She dropped David.
Ifs,Ifs,Ifs. Donovan spun and fired the mp5 into the screaming darkness, running backward towards the door. The horde descended on him.
Shrapnel rained down around Marshal. His bell was rung but he got to his feet. Donovan was headed his way, then with horror he realized he was bringing a cloud of those things with him.
He fought to hold down vomit from the smell reminding him he had a more pressing problem. There were two of the giant things now both headed for him. One was only ten feet away.
It was twice the width of a man, and seven feet of dripping serpentine body was visible rising from where the rest of its mass disappeared below the floor. At least it was slow moving having to burn its way through to slither forward.
His mind cleared as its skeletal arms reached out. Marshal dodged and sliced it across the body. Steam rose and it gave a loud moan. But goo oozed in filling the wound nearly as soon as the sword left its body.
He back peddled desperately. A light yellow flash from the right, originating seemingly out of thin air. Intense cold bond his legs.
He hit the ground on his back, looking down horrified and freezing from the chill creeping up his body. His feet were in a block of ice.
The thing was almost on him. Foot falls to the right. He raised the sword to protect his face, but there was nothing there. A yellow bolt, fired from nothingness smashed into his chest, sending Marshal sliding, flesh scalding across the floor.
Donovan stopped running and crouched, the horde was upon him. He fired the sub machine gun into the mass but over whelmed they smashed into him. He screamed as he felt flesh begin to melt were they touched him. But then they were gone. Squealing in pain and frustration.
Donavan had been right; the holy water would deny the creatures their main weapons, their corrosive bodies. But they had other weapons.
He got to his feet bleeding from the face arms, and legs from slashes, and itched horrible.
Possibly both but nothing to be done about it now, so he reloaded the HK with lightning speed and headed back to the Fuckin! Pool pit, as they gathered above the door for another run.
He would have to deal with them, but had yet to developed a theory on how to do it.
We need away to get it...
The thought was cut short. Red energy rapped his mid section pinning his arms and lifting him into the air.
Marshal was down and the woman had Donovan. David pitied him. He’d managed to drag himself over to his pistol. Contemplating killing himself but he couldn’t do it. Not because he was afraid to die. No, he was still enjoying his vacation from the torment. He was pretty comfortable in his broken body. As long as he didn’t think, didn’t remember.
So he figured he should help, just to have something to do until he died.
He began to raise the weapon but let it fall back to his side. It was useless against her. So he fired the only other weapon he had.
"Ya momma..." He tried to yell, but it came out an ashy crock, piggy backing on bloody spittle. Still it got her attention. Her head swung in his direction with indignant shock.
"What?" How dare you spelled all across her face.
He’d planed on forcing himself to laugh but her expression garnered a real one. If she tortured him again he would die, there was no doubt about it. Death would be mercy, so what else could she do?
Turn me into a rabbit?
The thought made him laugh, the pain that barley seemed to be pain at all that laughing caused, made him laugh hysterically. Or as close as he could come to it in his condition.
Amazed by his own out burst he fought to get himself under control. But the pain he was feeling that would have been unbearable any other time he now just found funny. After being in her grip the fiery throbbing of his shattered cheek, was like a stiff breeze in his face on a hot day.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re momma...said something.... before.... I killed her." He fought to keep from busting out in another bought of laughter.
She advanced on him sneering, dropping Donovan.
Donovan rolled and tucked himself into the corner. Firing into the dive booming horde with one hand, uncapping vials of holy water with his teeth and splashing himself with the other. The horde split in two and came at him from each side.
They hit him, his flesh boiled and dissolved were they touched, but so did theirs. His weapon clicked empty; frustrated by the holy water the swarm retreated.
Marshal felt like he’d been hit in the ribs with a molten brick. Even with the creatures putrid odor filling the church, he could smell the burned plastic and flesh.
I want to live; I want to live, where going to die.
The large thing was almost on him again. Three more were visible bathed in the flute players yellow aura, all moving his way. Marshal wanted to be anywhere but were he was, wanted to close his eyes and make it all go away. He also wanted to live, so he grabbed the sword and shielded his face the best his could and leveled the Mac at the closest goo pile.
He had forgotten all about Baldy when the man had vanished, but that had to be who’d shot him. The armor seemed to be doing a good job of protecting his body, he couldn’t afford to let the man get a free shot at his head.
So he held his fire straining his ears to hear Baldy’s movements, but with the creatures wails, David yelling at the women and Donovan shooting that seemed as hopeless as getting out alive.
The women stared down at David’s mangled form in stunned disgust.
Good. He had her. Nodding and still grinning he said. "Yeah...But I don’t think you want to hear it."
He watched her face twitch, she was beyond furious, she wanted to kill him out right, but he’d hit a nerve, she needed to know. She composed herself with a cruel smile.
"What you’ve felt is nothing."
"No I’m serious...I guess she knew you’d find me. She said.." He said lowering his voice forcing her to move closer.
"She said...Tell my daughter…wipe her face." He grabbed the Hunter stone, and spit in her eye.
Donovan was bleeding from multiple wounds, and burns. The swarm was coming at him again, he’d managed to reload, stuffed himself as low as possible in the corner and fired with both weapons but they came at him from every possible angle, slashing as they flew by. They weren’t even trying to land on him anymore...This is it.
The armor protected his body, his shoulders took most of what was aimed at his head and neck, but it was only a matter of time. When the ammo ran out, there would be no time to reload.
Red light, and the women’s enraged scream touched every corner of the room, as she brought both illuminated hands to bear in David’s face.
He prayed and shoved the Hunters stone inches from her palms.
A thunderclap and concussion wave rocked the building to its foundation. Sending her ricocheting off the ceiling and landing badly in the pool pit. The flyers it didn’t knock out the air it turned into goo stains on the fracturing cinder block walls.
For a few seconds the only sound was the hammering of raining debris as large chunks of the ceiling gave way.
urban fantasy series
Donovan was the first to recover. He didn’t know what happened and didn’t really care, it was and opening and he was taking it.
He hopped to his feet, and ran through the near blackness guided by the HK gun-light, sprinting past stunned squirming flyers, dodging falling beams and concrete, and avoiding a half hearted dazed swipe from one of the large things.
He had an idea of were David was and could see Marshal from the glow coming off the floored flute player.
"Donavan! Where the hell have you been! Get me out of here!"
Donavan fired three shots into the ice with the .45 shattering most of it, a round grazing the kids leg.
"Ahw! You shot me!" A beam crashed to the ground behind Donovan nearly crushing them both.
"Get the f**k up!!!" He yanked Marshal to his feet.
"We got’ta get David." And or the stone, pulling Marshal in the direction he last saw him.
There he was in the gun light, he was moving, his eyes were open. Some how he...they were still alive.
"Hold on, there’s an invisible guy back here some where!" Marshal said hobbling backward one foot still in ice.
"Fuckem, we’re gone!" If he would open up to the d**n sword Marshal would be able to see him. There was no time to explain to the kid how the weapon worked. So Donovan let him go, and swept the room with his gun-light, as he ran towards David.
He surveyed the situation; there was very little time. The raining debris was now just a drizzle. The Arcanist that had been playing the flute was now crawling around looking for it. The large minions had recovered and where headed their way, along with some of the smaller ones.
Donovan stopped and blew three out the air that were headed for him, and four more headed for Marshal. "Hurry the hell up!"
"Hay f**k you! I didn’t ask for this s**t!" Marshal continued to mumble and rant, galloping backward searching for his invisible tormenter, one foot still in ice.
Donovan ignored the newbie’s b***hing and headed for David. He was sprawled out next to the doorway.
The kid was a train wreck. Blood ran from his ears and eyes, every stitch, armor, shirt, jacket and all was gone from his upper body. Reviling scalded flesh. From the top of his patched head to where it despaired into his pants.
Celestial magic, must be why the stone couldn’t protect him. The kid was probably a lost cause, but his eyes were open staring past them and the Hunter’s stone was now glowing.
"Marshal! On your right!" David yelled, motioning with a mostly mangled hand. It was a weak wounded sound. Donovan barley heard it, he knew Marshal couldn’t, so he tried to turn and warn him....
Bolts of thin light yellow electricity materialized from off to Marshals right. One hit him in the chest another hit Donovan in the back. Sending them flying, they hit the ground on the other side of David writhing.
Donovan rolled over grimacing and convulsing from the magic current ravaging his being. Still he returned fire in the general direction the attack had come from.
David could see their attacker, not normally, but he could see him. A shimmering purple detailed outline of a bald man in a robe.
Donovan was firing, yellow sparked around the man who flinched, ducked under the bullets and charged. David stuck his leg out as the man passed.
The Anarchist hit the ground with and umph and tried to role over and face him.
David fired the .45. the first two rounds bounced away in yellow sparks. On the third there was a low-pitched panicked yelp. The fourth a gurgled moan. By the sixth he was completely visible, sprawled out, chest a bloody mess, a large chunk blown out of his neck, surprised eyes froze open staring at David. Who just let the suddenly heavy pistol fall from his hands before passing out.
Donovan staggered to his feet, left arm limp, trying to flex his shoulder away from the still burning hot armor. Didn’t help so he just let it burn.
The itching bothered him more then the burning. He didn’t know how bad he was hurt, but it didn’t matter he could move so they had to get out of there. The large minions were almost on them, the smaller ones fluttered around reorganizing.
Donovan turned to Marshal. Two flyers came at them; he emptied the HK blowing them out the air.
Marshal’s face was twisted in a grimace, he groaned and squirmed on the ground. Donovan empathized, he still felt the residual charge reverberating in his body, but there wasn’t any time for it. He pulled his last flask of holy water out, bit the cork out, splashing Marshal from head to toe. Then grabbed the newbie around the collar and began slamming him against the ground.
"Marshal!! Marshal!!! Snap out of it!"
On impact there had been no pain, just the opposite. Numbness and a floating feeling in the head. Marshal hadn’t even felt himself hit the ground. That had changed quickly enough. It was like he was numb and burning at the same time. A hundred times worse then hitting his funny bone, but a similar sensation, mixed with being electrocuted. Mostly in his chest, but his hole body was at the mercy of it.
He squirmed and tried to ride it out, it seemed to weaken by the second. Some one was calling his name.
"Open your eyes kid! Get up!"
Eyes....Up...Marshal fought for understanding. Something deep in him said he should be doing something. He forced his eyes open, and remembered what it was.
Oh s**t! I got to get out of here!
"Come on!" Donovan was yelling in his face, a group of the things where diving on them from behind him. Marshal groped for the Mac-10 found it and fired, killing all but two.
One hit Donovan in the back, knocking him on Marshal, who swatted it in half with Talon before it could do any harm. The other hit Marshal in the leg, jaws and claws first, but retreated smoking after being burned by holy water.
Donovan pulled him to his feet. "Come on, help with David, grab and arm we’re going to have to drag him."
The black kid was a mangled mess on the floor. Baldy lay dead beside him.
How am I still alive?
"Marshal! Snap out of it, come on grab him."
Marshal nodded dumbly, they had to go. He grabbed David under the armpit because most of his right arm was just chard muscle and looked too fragile. He had never touched anybody with such a horrible injury.
What was left of the building shock violently, startling them and causing a few more chunks of ceiling to rain down. The large doors had been picked up and slammed back in place barring their exit.
"Where do you think you’re going!?” The women growled from the pool pit, surrounded by shadows in the suddenly very dark church, spot lit by her bright red aura.
Donovan let David’s arm go and starred back at her helplessly. The HK was empty, with one arm he wouldn’t be reloading it anytime soon, and he didn’t even know where his pistol was. Not like either would have done much good against her.
"Donavan." One of the big things came at Marshal, toothless maw open, reaching with its long goo dripping skeletal arms.
He’d been prepared to defend against those, but not the tentacle that shot from its side and wrapped around his mid section.
Crushing pressure, panic, he couldn’t draw a breath. The bottom of his trench burned and fell away, the armor began to smoke.
He swung, severing it with the Talon. The pressure released, as it turned to sludge and began to dissolve.
He was free but the thing was closer now, he ducked a slash from its claw and it shot out another tentacle. He back peddled and slashed at the limb as it came at him. Missing as the nimble appendage danced back.
Donovan looked on, almost hypnotized by exhaustion and the hopelessness of the situation.
What the hell douse he expect me to do he’s got the Talon? That slop pile wouldn’t even have broken Jasmines stride. Hell she would have killed the crazy b***h in the pool pit already.
But she was dead, and he was a newbie. Regardless Marshal would have to figure it out himself Because Donovan was completely at a loss. He hadn’t given up. It was a bonafide miracle they were all still alive, but he was weaponless, out of holy water, useful potions, time, and ideas.
He looked absentmindedly back in the direction he expected death to come from, surprised that she hadn’t struck yet.
The women was staring confused at something off in the distant to her left.
His hart jumped, as he tried and failed to contain the hope. She sensed something, some one was coming. Vampires? Police?
He prayed it was somebody from the organization but didn’t really matter, it was a diversion and he planed to take full advantage of it.
If he could, he was tired, more tired then usual, and itched all over. Something was very wrong, whoever it was needed to hurry up.