"Okay, so, as long as I keep this thing on, Transyl's batty things can't control me?" Ben poked the metal headband wrapped around his forehead, covering his third eye.
Scout nodded, holding out what looked like a more sophisticated water gun to Ben. "Any possessed citizen we come across, you spray with that. Try to aim for the 'batty things'."
"What about those silver bullets and stuff?" He pointed to the much more menacing gun attached to the back of Scout's uniform.
"Those are for if we come across Lady Transyl. We're not here to hurt the citizens."
Ben nodded, opening the compartment holding the strange liquid. His nose wrinkled at the smell, before he began chuckling. "Is this garlic?"
"It's a compound of liquidized lead and concentrated aqua… and yeah, a lot of garlic." Scout adjusted his headband, "Now, you sure you know the way back to your ship?"
"Absolutely… mostly. Probably. Let's go!" He exited the gloomy base, looking around to see if he could spot any of the 'citizens'.
A thick silvery mist had rolled over the town as the "sun" had risen; the orb in the sky was completely crimson, and cast an ominous glow over the surrounding area. When Ben had arrived, it was remarkably cold, but now it couldn't be any more different. Ben had wrapped his hoodie around his waist, and had to resist the urge to remove his only shield of protection to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He had to keep his third eye squinted shut against the metal strap. Anur Transyl looked positively Hellish during the day.
"How do you live in this heat? I'm not even covered in fur." He turned to Scout as they made their way down several back alleys, ducking out of sight of any wondering citizens.
"It's not so bad, daytime only lasts about two hours or so. Three in the summer." Scout suddenly held a hand out, and the pair backed up against the wall. They had reached a clearing in the mismatched houses, and wondering around, as if patrolling, was that same long-haired girl from before. She wondered, twitching and grumbling like something out of a horror movie, in circles around the clearing.
Ben pointed his water gun at the girl, before Scout put his paw on the barrel. "Don't," he whispered, "best to just try and sneak past."
The sound of gunfire resonated through the air then, distracting the ghostly girl. Her head snapped back in the direction of the noise, and from a near-hidden alley Rook emerged, followed by a small horde of monstrous-looking aliens. Some were bound in decaying bandages, only eyes and teeth visible between the gauze. Some were ghostly beings like the girl who dragged veils of black hair behind them. Some were even large and chunky creatures, seemingly stitched together from a cluster of other beings. What they all had in common, however, were those strange batlike creatures that had attached themselves to each and every forehead. But the ones that Ben took special notice of were not the stitched-up aliens, or the ones bound in gauze or even the ghostly white ones.
The ones that immediately caught his attention, far and few as they were, were the aliens shrouded in cloaks, bodies slender and sharp, faces mutated and teeth yellowed. They all carried some form of bladed weapon, be it scythe or scissors, and their bottom halves were nothing more than striped snake-like appendages. Their appearances alone made Ben shiver, and when one took a swing at Rook, Ben's heart stopped.
"Rook!" He leapt out of his hiding spot, deaf to Scout's calls. Within moments, several monsters shivered, turning their attention to Ben; none of them seemed to notice barrels, boxes and even stones springing to life in a blur of purple light, colliding into each citizen and sending each of them flying. He knelt down by Rook's side, helping him up. He grimaced at the red staining his fur from the cut across the back of his head.
Rook shoved Ben away from him, his pupils contracted into tiny slits. "What is wrong with you?! You cannot simply run out into unknown territory, Ben!"
"Uh, fellas, we can argue later but right now we've still got a bit of a situation." Scout joined them, gesturing to the horde that began to regain their footing. And as they stood, more seemed to crawl out of the woodworks, each adorned with a bat covering their forehead. Scout cocked his gun, taking aim. "Whatever you do, aim for the bats!"
Ben took a deep breath, before firing. A long stream of icy liquid shot out from his gun at a much higher velocity than any water gun on Earth could have accomplished. It hit one bat square in its large eye, and it began to sizzle and burn away, shrieking. The bat's victim clawed away at what was left of it, their mind finally their own, before ducking out of the way of the remaining horde. Ben grinned in satisfaction, glancing at Scout and Rook. But their expressions were grim, locked onto their targets – and taking down a lot more than Ben was.
He quickly turned back to the victims in front of him, and continued firing. Soon the air was filled with Hellish screams and the smell of burning meat and plastic as the bats began to rot away one by one. But as the horde's numbers began to noticeably dwindle, one of the many Ectonurites leapt into the air, before slamming themselves down into the trio, sending each one flying in the other direction. As Ben fell to the ground, his gun scattered far out of his reach. He scrambled to pick it up, his fingertips brushing against the trigger before spindly claws dug into his back, propelling him high into the sky. He'd have screamed, if he had any air left in his lungs to scream with.
"You're not getting away from me that easily, Ben Tennyson." A wheezing, strained voice brushed against his ear, echoing through his head.
"…Ghostfreak?!" Ben twisted in the monster's grip, turning to see Zs'Scayr's gnarled contorted face.
"NEVER call me by that name!" He dropped Ben suddenly, allowing him to fall down, down, down before plucking him from mid-air, carrying him off. He dropped the boy onto a roof, pinning him to the crooked tiles, before laughing a raspy laugh as he grabbed a handful of Ben's fringe, ripping off the metal headband before yanking up Ben's hair, earning a yelp from the human. "My my! What has happened to you, Ben Tennyson? You have a tumour growing out of your ugly face!"
"Well, I wouldn't call him ugly." A fruity, penetrating voice seemed to flow through the air around them, and a long, curvy figure formed out of the shadows. The woman carried an intricately decorated parasol to block out the red sun rays. She seemed to wear a crimson mask, but when Ben looked closer he could see the leathery curves of red was fused to her icy grey skin. She wore a tight ensemble of velvet and leather, scarlet and pitch black. Her eyes were a biting shade of violet, and Ben found himself simply unable to tear his eyes from hers, even as Zs'Scayr dropped him. He howled as he fell from the roof, before the woman grabbed the back of his shirt. The fabric strangled him as he was dragged up, and he could only breathe once she flipped him over to stare deep into his eyes. He felt a chill going down his spine as she grinned, her crimson lips curling back so he could see row after row of sharp metallic teeth.
"As a matter of fact," the woman continued, running her tongue over her fangs, "I'd say he's quite handsome."
"Wish I could say the same about you, lady." He managed to gasp out before the woman's grin turned into a grimace. She reached out behind Ben, and an abyssal hole opened up into the ground beneath them both. The woman effortlessly dropped off the roof, holding Ben close to her as they fell into the hole.
Rook watched Ben disappearing into the ground, and darted over, only just dodging the swings of mindless attackers. "Ben!" He skidded to a halt as the hole closed up after the boy, and he cursed to himself before turning back to the battle at hand.
He plucked the gun Ben had dropped, and fired into a mummified alien's face. He howled, tearing away at the bandages that had protected the bat, and Rook grabbed him by the elbow and shoved him as far as he could away from the main horde as the bat dropped from the Khufan's forehead. That was when a burning sting jabbed its way into Rook's leg, causing him to fell to his knees. A roar burst from him as the agonising heat shot up his thigh, his hand moving down to grip the wound. But the scythe was still wedged into his leg.
He glared up at the writhing Ectonurite, his teeth bared and his pupils dwindled into tiny slits, before the mindless victim tore her blade from Rook and swung it above her head, intending to bring it down and split his skull. With his other leg, he booted her in the stomach, shoving her back long enough for him to take aim and fire. But just as he squeezed the bullet, another Khufan smashed the gun out of his grip, his gauze coiling around Rook's neck suddenly to squeeze the life out of him. He gagged reaching for his Proto-tool; with the click of a button the firearm shifted form into a blade, and the Khufan howled as he sliced through the gauze. He made to leap onto Rook, before Scout rammed into him, flinging him into a rampaging (but luckily blind) Transylian, who's arms were flinging around and around, his fists like hammers.
"Close your eyes!" Scout yelled as he joined Rook's side, holding up what looked like a makeshift grenade attached to a handful of small glass vials. Rook squeezed his eyes shut, covering his face as Scout smashed the 'grenade' onto the floor a mere foot away from them. The bomb let out a veil of thick smoke, and the vials – which had been filled with the same ingredients as the 'water guns' – fused with the smoke. Scout helped Rook to his feet as the horde became painfully blinded by the bomb, and the two Plumbers scraped away from the crowd. The only clue to their escape was the drip-drops of blood left from the gash in Rook's leg.
Xylene grumbled in dismay, her hands glowing with a violet aura. "I can't sense them anywhere! Where are they?" She scratched her chin, turning back to re-enter the ship. "So, we're stranded, our ship is broken, we can't connect to the Plumbers' base, aaaand my grandson has eloped with the most naive Revonnahgander I've ever met. Wonderful."
"Perhaps things are not as hopeless as you believe."
Xylene snapped her head back, startled by the new voice. At the bottom of the steps leading up to the ship stood a tall Vladat, donned in black robes lined with a jade-toned silk. His demeaner was calm, friendly even, but his expression was grim. Xylene frowned at him, taking a cautious step back. "And who might you be? I thought all the Vladats were long gone."
"All, but one." He held out a long lone claw, before bowing to Xylene. "I am Whynn. Since the fall of my people, I have stayed within the shadows, so moving between crowds silently has become second nature to me – my apologies for frightening you."
Xylene's expression remained hardened; she crossed her arms over her chest. "And why, pray tell, have you decided to show yourself to me? You wouldn't happen to know the way to the Plumbers' base, would you?"
Whynn raised his head at that, and sighed. "I do. But first, I must warn you of what has become of this planet. It would be unwise stepping out into a world like this without knowing what lies ahead."
Xylene glance back at the two Galvins, who had taken refuge from the stranger under the breakfast bar. Her lips curled back in disappointment, before turning back to Whynn. "Go on, then. Indulge me."