Dst – Chronicles of Malignant Mercies Pt 12 (7/8)

Dark Halloween – End Game

Within a realm of perfect light and boundless energy something stirred. The harmony of the place was disturbed, drawing the attention of that which had awakened to it. There was a blot within the perfect light. A spot of life potential far weaker than the intensity of energy which surrounded it. Curious the presence drew closer. Recognizing the blot for what it was. A passage between dimensions.

Pleasure suffused the consciousness as it flowed toward that disturbance and the dull world which lay beyond.

*****

The black presence drew back again when the first point of brilliant white light appeared between it and its quarry. Dark rage burned in its black eye, realizing what this was and what came fast.

Michael squinted as the light grew, having crouched beside the wall, watching the confrontation carefully. Though, as the light grew brighter he was forced to squint and avert his eyes from it, though he could still see what came next.

The essence of light seemed to well forth from the glowing portal, moving like liquid as it gathered and formed up into the spitting image of the black eye, only it was defined by differing intensities of light. Glowing tendrils emerged along with the glowing eye, waving fluidly about the center. The Pale Woman slumped quietly as the summoning was completed.

It was then that the light being noted the presence of the dark being. The peace of that moment hung for a mere second before both creatures lashed at each other. Michael was stunned by the suddenness and sheer ferocity at which the two creatures attacked each other. Silence was broken by the warbling snarl of the dark and the chime-like out cry of the light. Waving tendrils flailed between them, each impact echoing loudly within the basement, convincing Michel of the prudence in not drawing the attention of battling titans.

The rage of the flailing tentacles didn’t last long, however, before the two eyes, light and dark, lunged ‘bodily’ at each other. The impact was like being ground zero amid a thunderclap. They struck, then seemed to implode inwards, a bone jarring rumble rippling through the room. The implosion then erupted in a burst of rays, both black and light.

Michael threw himself prone with a cry, feeling shards of stone and dust pepper him from above. Then, as quickly as it began the noise was gone. Michel kept himself down for a moment, listening to the silence. He slowly lifted his head and peered about. Miraculously, the swinging bulb had survived the entire confrontation, though its motion caused shadows to leap and dance across the basement, which looked ravaged with scorch marks and ripped stone obvious at random places around the room.

Seeing no sign of the two primal essences, Michael looked toward the center of the room, where the circle was. It glowed no longer, the jars all broken, the hearts that lay within each mashed to pulp. He could make out the dark cloak of the Pale Woman slumped over at its center. Seeing no movement he carefully got to his feet, absently tucking his spent firearm into his belt as he approached slowly.

There was a movement when he drew near, kneeling slowly before reaching out toward the Pale Woman. Her hair had fallen over her face, concealing. But he detected the movement of her breathing just as he gripped her shoulder, carefully pulling her back to lie against his other arm.

His attention shifted toward Joseph, who lay still in her arms, his eyes widening slightly as he viewed the boy. His face was restored; skin smooth and unblemished as before, yet his hair remained as white as a bone. He too breathed shallowly, but like his matron, was unconscious.

Feeling a strange relief, Michel let his head dip slightly and a soft sigh escape his lips. “Davis would never believe this.”

*****

She started awake from a dreamless sleep, a soft gasp escaping her. Though she tried to sit up, strong hands urged her back, to lie down again upon soft, warm bedding. Her eyes turned toward the man at her bedside, meeting with the concerned gaze of Detective Briggs.

“Don’t be in a hurry to sit up. You’re safe.” Michael then lifted a glass of water to where she could see it, offering it to her. “I’m still not quite sure what happened.. but they’re both gone.”

She said not a world as she accepted the glass, staring at the disheveled detective instead. Michel frowned faintly at first, and then glanced away; masking that by standing from the edge of the bed she lay on, walking toward the foot. “The boy is well too. I don’t know how.. but he’s back to normal.. well, almost normal anyway.”

“Are you going to arrest me?” Though the woman’s voice was neutral, Michael could see a bit of softness in her eyes. Perhaps from reference to the boy, he thought. They were firm enough yet to keep affixed toward his.

Michael gave her question serious thought, ultimately shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know.. this is way beyond my experience. But for now, I’m not going to turn you in.”

The two stared at each other quietly for several long moments before she spoke again. “There is one more thing I must do, however.” This evoked a raised brow from Michael, encouraging her to continue. “If I am guilty of anything, it is being forged into a weapon. Let me tell you a story, detective. The story of a promising young woman who was broken into pieces and reformed by darkness. Then I will ask again what I asked moments before.

*****

Thomas sat in the darkness of his office, the only light this evening being the illumination that shone from his computer screen. His eyes scanned the news website he’d called up. It had been a quiet few weeks for him since the last legal action brought against his company had been resolved. Months of political wrangling had diverted the blame for his cooperate thievery to various patsies and scapegoats, finally leaving Thomas himself in the clear, if a bit roughed up in the court of opinion.

Thomas smiled contentedly. He knew how to make the dogs sit up and beg, so the PR problem would be easy enough to fix as well. He also noted the sudden end of the killings. Over a week and no sign of another victim. Though that was hardly of import to him, clicking that window closed idly.

He afforded himself a light chuckle and reached out toward the half full glass that sat beside his keyboard. His fingers had just touched the rim of the glass when he felt something cool and keen slip under his chin.

“Hello lover.”