Dst – Chronicles of Malignant Mercies Pt 12 (6/8)
Dark Halloween – End Game
The dark voice broke the spell again, the Pale Woman shaking her head and thrusting her arm toward the boy, knocking him roughly aside without a word. She lunged at Michael again, the detective fumbling words as he weaved away from her flashing scalpel. But he soon ran out of room to retreat, back touching the wall. Before he could shift away, she was upon him and the keen blade was at his throat.
“You’re mine..” A viper’s hiss coming from her moist, red lips as the scalpel dug menacingly into the tender flesh of his throat.
The final cut did not come, however, as both heard a sharp cry coming from the boy. “He comes!”
*****
Within the darkness, black beyond imagining, there was but one mote of light, one means of egress. The prick between the worlds. The portal from entropy eternal into the midst of creation. The presence which lounged amid an eternity of nothingness would have chortled if such expressions mattered.
It’s time come, the black presence hurtled toward the prick of light. Toward a living world ripe for the taking.
*****
During the confrontation magic had gathered and grown. The power humming through the precisely set jars, the glass vibrating softly amid the sickly red glow of the arcane circle. And before them grew the blot of perfect dark. The hole that opened into an abyss of chill entropy. The tangible presence of the primal force within nearing.
Three pair of eyes watched as something darker than the portal itself thrust through. Like some unholy tendril it curled back around the portal, joined soon by another.. and another as the essence of Vrecxs sought to pull itself into this world. The still growing portal bulged before what could only be described as an eye partially emerged, the misshapen orb differentiated from the rest of it by the slightly unique shade of black it held.
The thing made no attempt to utter a sound, one of its black tendrils flicking out toward the nearest target. The young boy who lay stunned upon the ground. His body shaking when the dark eye turned upon him. The black tendril lashed softly and slowly over him, sending spasms through his young frame at the seemingly harmless touch. The effect was immediate and dramatic as the boy seemed to age without growing any larger. In moments, after a second lash, his hair had gone white, smooth skin wrinkled.
Perhaps it was the guttural cry that he released, which broke the Pale Woman from the utter horror that rooted her. “No!” Her challenging cry as she thrust herself away from Michael and charged at the thing which had hurt her ward.
The dark eye turned upon her and the man who had charged in behind her, Michael already going for his gun. The chants he spoke before long since forgotten. Joseph crumpled to the ground as the tendril that lashed him focused upon the new attackers. The dark tendril flicked, sending first one, then the other to the ground with bone jarring strikes.
Michael Briggs grunted as he was struck in the side and flung down to the ground, half catching himself in a low crouch. Recovering himself he found that his hand still clutched his service pistol, the compact firearm lifted as he staggered back to his feet. The air was cut by the sharp rapport of his gunfire.
The dark eye turned toward him, though the bullets seemed to have no visible effect on the blot of darkness or its flicking tendrils, another having joined the first. He squeezed off three shots before having to dodge the swipe of those tendrils, scrambling from side to side as he looked for another opening.
*****
The Pale Woman rose slowly from her own buffeting, having sprawled on her side. Pain flared in her side, unlike any she had known since she had turned. Her new resiliency seeming to have fled her. The gunshots drew her attention, seeing Briggs attempt to fight off the dark blot. She was uncertain just what to do then. Something felt missing that she couldn’t explain.
It was then that she heard Joseph groan. She looked toward him, having landed close, and felt unfamiliar emotion well within her. She quickly crawled next to him, gently framing his face with her palms. “Joseph..”
“There is.. little time.. The chant.. bring Aluvionis, his opposite. Vrecxs will destroy all.. You must believe me.” Joseph’s voice was barely a whisper, cracked with age that was not naturally his. “The words.. summon the life to banish death. All will die..”
Her pale face was stricken as she watched her young ward weaken with unnatural age. The darkness which held her heart weakened. Her thoughts cleared, a realization dawning upon her, veiled before in the shadow of her patron. The sound of the gunshots faded to her as she dipped her head slowly, turned to place her ear close to the dying boy’s mouth. His wrinkled lips moving slowly, softly speaking as she listened closely to every syllable.
*****
Michael was breathing hard as he ducked under a swipe of dark tendril. A third had joined the attack and he simply couldn’t find a clear moment to get a shot in toward the thing as he bobbed and weaved frantically to avoid their cold touch.
Then came a strong, sing-song voice. Though it wasn’t just the voice, but the fact that the dark tendrils paused that got Michel’s attention the most. Taking slow, deep breaths, he slumped against one wall of the basement, chancing a glance toward the sound.
There he saw the Pale Woman had moved into the glowing circle again, the aged boy cradled in her lap as she chanted the words he was supposed to with a focused conviction. She rocked the boy gently, not even looking toward the black eye, which peered at her with unadulterated hate.
“Betrayer! Silence your tongue, you are mine to command!” The voice that emanated from the eye was unearthly. The mix of a deep rumble and a piercing screech, causing Michael to wince as it pierced his ears.
She seemed unaffected or simply unaware of the command. She rocked the child in her arms, her lilting voice lifted in smooth, flawless repetition of the words. Michael could see that the dark red luminescence which emanated from the circle was fading.. being replaced with a soft white shade, the soft glare seeming to repel the black eye and its tendrils as all shied away at first.
At first, but the warbling roar which emanated from the dark eye heralded an end to that. The trio of dark tendrils rose and batted at the kneeling woman, yet seemed to meet resistance in the white glow. They slowed, then stopped just shy of the Pale Woman, who barely lifted her head to see the dark tendrils that hovered inches shy of her head. Her attention was focused upon Joseph’s wrinkled face as she rocked him gently and spoke the words he told her.
*****