Alexander shivered as he rubbed his hands together to keep them from seizing up, that night the weather had snapped, it was freezing, and apparently his new found lack of bodily functions did not stop him from feeling the cold. So he stood and shivered in a back alley behind a seedy pub, a position he had not been in since university. The fog had rolled in again and covered everything under an undulating, thick white blanket that muted all sound and blocked all sight beyond the end of his arm. It was the thickest fog of the year so far, and it made communication a little difficult, he had already tripped over Allan and almost knocked the hunting rifle from his hands. Everyone had arrived armed with at least one gun, Allan had the aforementioned hunting rifle, as well as a shotgun, hunting knife and a pair of outdated flintlock pistols, Nyctalope had a rifle, and a shotgun, whilst Abraham had a bayoneted rifle, and a broadsword of all things, Galad had two rifles, two pistols, a hunting knife and a sabre, Mark was armed with just a pistol, as he said he trusted his magic to protect him, Alexander also just had just a pistol and a cane, mainly because he knew he could not aim anything else, although his ability to shoot a pistol was still rather questionable. Alexander had spent the afternoon helping the others prepare, and had learnt a little about them, Mark, Galad and Abraham were all pure blooded wizards, whilst Allan was a squib from a well to do pure blood family, who had managed to send him off to Africa before he became known about outside the family. Alexander had always had a soft spot for squibs, his little brother, who now lived in Portsmouth working on ships, had been a squib. He hated how squibs were treated as less than muggles just because they were not magical, it had not been fair, but that was society's way of dealing with those they did not like, sheer hatred and mistreatment.
Alexander was pulled out of his thought by the sound of Charles arriving via portkey, "they are on their way. I told them that they would have help, apparently they've had tip off before about this place, but had been too scared to act, it was only when I told them about you guys that they were willing to do anything, bloody cowards."
"Good job Charles," Mark said, his voice quivering slightly, "right fellas, who feels like having a shoot out."
"Why are wizards using guns when magic is more effective?" Michael asked, startling Alexander after his hours of silence.
"You can still use a gun whilst exhausted, but you can't use magic, by the way, where have you been? Your advice would have been useful a few hours ago," Alexander thought as he climbed into the tunnel.
"I was trying to get out your head, I almost succeeded, but I ended up stuck about halfway out, don't worry, it seems the temporal anomaly's grip on me is loosening."
"Does that mean the anomaly's grip on me is weakening?" Alexander asked nervously, "because I don't want to be in a gun fight and regain my mortality."
"Hmm, to be honest, I'm not sure, merging two souls into one body is different to forming a fixed temporal point, fusing us was a feat of pure power from the magical explosion. However, suspending you in time was the nature of the magic itself, so even if I do separate from you, you should be fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Hmm, at least fifty percent, nothing is guaranteed when you work with time."
They stopped in front of the same heavy wooden door, "I say, when do we spring our little trap and bust some heads?" Galad asked with his eyes bright with excitement, as his voice trembled slightly with anticipation.
"Soon," Allan whispered as he cautiously looked through the keyhole, "there are six thugs on the other side, as soon as we start fighting the others will here us, so we should be quick about it, there are two more rooms off to the sides, I would recommend Mark and Alexander go to the right, whilst Abraham and Nyctalope take the left and Galad and I will hold the stairs. Any objections?" No-one spoke, "good." Shouts were heard from upstairs, followed by a whistle and gun fire, "that's our cue," Mark pressed his wand to the lock, and with a soft click, the door swing open, the six thugs inside, jumped to their feet, "nobody move, hands where we can see them," the thugs raised their hands at seeing six guns pointed at them.
"Incarcerous," Mark cast, a stout rope shot from the end of his wand, and tied the men tightly to a support post in the cellar. Allan walked over to the tied up men and started disarming them, pulling out guns and knives, he then knocked out each with his rifle butt.
"Split up," Nyctalope said, Alexander followed Mark through the narrow corridor that lead off into darkness.
"Luminos," Mark cast, causing a ball of white light to appear and float next to him, illuminating the dark corridor, Alexander swallowed nervously as they stepped further into the unknown.
"I'll take the lead," Alexander said as they walked through the corridor.
"You sure?" Mark asked, Alexander licked his lips and nodded, "okay, your funeral."
Alexander lead them through the corridor until they reached a large room, quickly extinguishing the light, they snuck up to the end to look in, the room had two floors, the bottom floor that they were on and the top floor above, it appeared to be prison of sorts. People walking around wearing black leather robes and metallic beaked masks, or at least they looked like thugs until you noticed that whenever they took a step their knee knocked the back of their robes rather than the front, and that under the mask their eyes were solid red. All around the room there were people in cells, filthy people who looked rather well off, judging by the remains of their clothing, and hanging from the ceiling were more of the strange robed creatures.
"Death Givers," Mark cursed, "I thought we wiped those guys out a decade ago, bloody cultists, they let weak demon to possess their bodies. The demon makes them stronger and allows them to fly, but over time it corrupts their bodies, fusing their clothing to their skin, turns their eyes red, reshapes their anatomy, eventually, the demon comes through fully and needs to be destroyed. We have got to wipe them out today, this many demons could kill thousands before they are put down."
"So, we should have bought more guns then?" Alexander said, "we can go get the others."
"No, the demon grants them protection from mortal weapons, only magic can kill a demon, and magic swords, and certain woods, like rowan, yew and oak, so your cane would actually hurt them, if it is indeed oak as it looks to be."
"So, how do we do this?"
"I don't know, an elementalist would be really useful right now, they are really weak to fire, I'm not sure why."
"It's a shame I'm not there, or I could help," Michael thought as he reappeared inside Alexander's head, "still no luck by the way."
"I guess we just go in, lead them back into this tunnel and defeat them one at a time, I hate fanatics," Mark muttered.
"I'll go," Alexander said as he stepped out of the tunnel, he turned to the nearest cultist, "incendio," the man violently burst into fire and started screeching in an inhuman wail. The wail caused all the other creatures (for Alexander now refused to think of them as men) to turn towards him, and screech in a cacophony of sound and fury. "Incendio," Alexander cast, catching a group of a dozen or so were hanging from the ceiling, they screeched louder than the others as they plummeted to the ground, the first had also gone out as he had been reduced to ashes. The other had taken off and were coming at him, either running with an unnatural gait that whilst fast looked awkward on the ground, or they flew at him with their robes turning into bat wings, revealing underneath more black clothing. Alexander set them on fire as quickly as they came at him, but he was running out of magic, something he had not expected. He turned to run back into the corridor, but something heavy landed on his back, causing his wand to fly from his grasp, he was flipped over to face the masked face of something that had once been human. The monster grinned at him, revealing rows of tiny dagger shaped teeth, staring into its pure red eyes, Alexander suddenly felt unable to move, it took a hold of his legs and dragged him away, snapping at the other creatures to keep away.
Alexander was still unable to move when the cultist hung him up on a hook by the back of coat, he was still unable to eat as the creature started chanting in a guttural language that no human could speak, he still could not move as the creature tore open his guts, and started feeding on his intestines, he still could not move as he finally, mercifully passed out from blood loss. Alexander still could not move as he died for the second time in as many days.
