Legacy of Dragoon
Chapter 12: Tucked Away
The courtyard below them was quickly evacuated and footsteps could already be heard ascending the stairs branching off of the hall outside.
"Just had to open your mouth, didn't you?" Ikaika turned on Cross.
"I was trying to warn you guys! I thought that the Captain said if we were going to fight them, it wasn't going to turn out very well, so I..."
"Well if you had shut up about it, we wouldn't be fighting them now, would we?"
"You two can save that for later," Soren tried to calm them as numerous bootfalls reached the entrance to the bedroom. Cross moved to face the door. He didn't have anything to save for later, he had said his piece.
"It will be good practice for you anyway, warrior," Soren addressed the fuming woman.
"Hm, I didn't want to have to sharpen these today," she replied offhand as she withdrew the second blade at her waist.
For the second time that day the door to the master bedroom was kicked in; this time the knob smashed into the wall and stayed there. Bodies began pouring into the room like ants crawling out of a dirt hill. Even as they engaged the point men of this assault, more blocked up the entrance so that the rest outside couldn't even get in. The room was fairly large, and from where he and Angela were fighting Cross could see Soren backed up against the closet by four other men. Pearl was taking conservative swings with her sword near the balcony, and he could hear Ikaika behind him dispatching enemies with the ease he had already come to expect from her. He disregarded the rest and focused on the unshaven man leering before him. Cross had never guessed at what a pirate was supposed to look like, but the rough appearance was a stark contrast to the uniforms worn by Bryce Barra's crew of bodyguards. These men would fit in as peasants on the street, since nothing stood out about their clothing at all aside from how well-worn it all was. The ruffians appeared more unhinged and battle-hardened although equally loyal to their respective leader. Each one seemed to have the same cutlass-and-dagger combination and dull stink of alcohol saturating them.
Cross easily dodged a swipe from the scruffy outlaw's cutlass, then struck his face with the distal end of his spear. With that light distraction, the farmer ran him through and pushed forward until the protruding blade of the weapon had skewered another pirate. But the thing was harder to extract from two bodies at once, and as he struggled another foe caught him on the shoulder with a dagger. He rounded on his attacker only to find Ikaika knocking the bandit to the floor, his knifing arm already removed at the elbow. Pearl had taken to simply hurling her assailants off of the balcony as they yelped in surprise. Angela crushed something small in her hand and threw it underhand between the legs of the gang waiting in the door frame. Seconds later electricity exploded in jaunty cyan branches that reached into the bodies of any men unfortunate enough to be within range. Some fell to the floor in convulsions, others turned tail and ran.
Now Cross rushed to the aid of Soren, who still had several men to contend with at once. One had already successfully leaped onto the big man's back to attempt to slow him down. As Cross engaged the other two, Soren reached behind him with one gigantic hand and tossed his extra baggage into the closet. He then vaulted the bed and flipped the wooden frame and mattress onto its side before rushing forward, shielding himself with the furniture. The three remaining pirates were soon crushed against the wall. A curved blade sheared the fabric, nearly penetrating Soren's abdomen. Cross answered with his spear. The long weapon pierced the bed, and soon the fabric was soaked with a spreading oval of crimson. The struggling on the other side ceased.
"Was that so hard?" Cross confronted Ikaika after taking a deep breath.
"Not hard, but unnecessary. And your looking a little worse for wear," she nodded to the bleeding laceration on his arm.
He tried to make an indifferent sound despite the fact that it did hurt.
"You've got to learn that simply fighting your way through everything is the best way to get yourself killed. Especially when we're this outnumbered. Your enemies don't care how much you want to win, or why," she wiped off one blade on a nearby silk curtain, "they just want to see you die, and be done with it."
"Maybe you're right-"
"I know I'm right."
"-but like I said, that was an accident. I know I haven't exactly gotten this far by being careful..."
"You should try it sometime," she said coldly, and walked out through the door.
Cross looked at the floor. What she said had made him realize that while he didn't care if he was reckless or not, he had put his friends in danger. They were there to help him, and in a way he had disregarded their safety. He told himself it wouldn't happen again.
Pearl came over and clapped him on the back. As usual, she could see he was discouraged.
"Don't let her get to ya! She seems to be just a little negative, you know?"
"Besides, she doesn't know what you've been through- what we've been through," Angela stared after Ikaika angrily.
"You don't know that," Cross muttered before following Ikaika through the door.
"Talk about bringin' the mood down," Pearl scratched her head, "aren't we supposed to be celebrating?"
"We still have to find the owner of the home. Talking to a bodyguard and ransacking the place is not enough," Soren started for the door, "come on, we will check downstairs again."
As Cross reached the bottom of the stairs he still could not see Ikaika. He had intended to give her a piece of his mind, but the vacant halls around him made him think she must have left. Sick of the amateurs she was working with, she had simply walked back out the front door. As much as her words had spurned him, Cross was even more disappointed to see her gone. She was a valuable ally, and not only that but he had felt that draw, that inexplicable pull...
"Hey. Cross."
He looked around and saw nothing.
"Over here."
In one of the vast rooms comprising the center of the mansion, a row of several pillars stood, broken only by a figure leaning out from between two of the stone structures. A bronze, naked arm extended and waved him over. She had not left after all. Piecing together a sentence that was part apology, part argument in his head, he paced towards the tall woman. As he opened his mouth to speak his mind, his eyes were drawn to a sort of fold in the wall, where two sections overlapped at incorrect angles, creating an alcove of sorts. Standing slightly ajar was a door built directly into the wall that would have been invisible had it been shut correctly. The fold itself was hidden by the pillars acting as sentries to this side of the room.
"Looks like our pirate friends forgot to hide their secret entrance. They must use this to smuggle in whatever Barra's got them running for him."
"How did you ever find this?" Cross inspected the door cautiously.
"I saw the one with dreadlocks come through here. Looked like he was in a rush. He was in this room and suddenly he was gone. A quick search led me to this, and I wouldn't have found it if he had closed it properly."
By now the other three had seen them, and walked over to see what the fuss was about.
"These secret passages are popular," Soren speculated.
"They must be in this season, along with mansions and armed guards," Cross joked.
"You can't take anything seriously, can you?" Ikaika sighed.
"On the other hand, I think you need to lighten up a bit," Pearl actually was serious for once.
Ikaika chuckled a bit. "'Lighten up,' what does that even mean?"
"Well, I guess laughing's a good start," Pearl seemed to be genuinely perplexed by the etymology of the term 'lighten up'.
"I'd love to chat about it, but this door's not going to open itself."
Cross had already inched the panel of wall open. It had proven to be heavy despite only looking like a thin piece of painted wood. Beyond the threshold was a steep brick staircase that veered sharply to the right. It was not guarded or trapped.
"Does it go to the basement? Or maybe somewhere else," Cross wondered.
"Only one way to find out," Ikaika led the way into the dark.
The veer to the right turned out to be a spiral that wound deep into the ground. The walls became dank and wet the further they went. There was no torchlight to guide them, but knowing they were on a singular staircase allowed them to step onward and downward with little hesitation. When at last they reached level ground again, they were in a man-made cavern. The walls were interlocking but uneven chunks of stone that fit perfectly together, requiring no mortar. Torches fastened to the wall lit the entire space, casting orange light on yellow walls.
"When they said this guy was lord of the underground, they really weren't kidding," Pearl gazed down the tunnel, feeling at home for once.
"I don't like it," Cross complained with a shiver.
"No repeats of last time, okay?" Angela teased him.
"I'll try to manage," he groaned unpleasantly.
They moved through the tunnel, which must have been ten feet at it's highest, until they came to an intersection of multiple corridors like it. Then the smell hit them.
"Augh-, what is that?" Angela nearly shrieked, covering her mouth and nose with the sleeve of her robe.
"That is really bad, a little warning next time, huh, big guy?" Pearl held her nostrils with a thumb and forefinger as she waved Soren away. At first he seemed confused, then angry at her accusation.
"Can't say I approve," even Ikaika had a clear look of disgust on her face.
"This is no secret passage, these vagabonds are simply running their operation through the sewers. Not a bad idea, really. I cannot think of anyone who would check down here for such a thing," said Soren.
"Except for us, right?" Cross choked, "Let's pick a direction and take it, I need to get out of here."
"Why don't you calm down, take some deep breaths?"
"That's impossible down here!"
"Quiet, I hear voices," Ikaika stared hard at nowhere as she listened. The others went silent and took on similar expressions. Indeed, there were voices drifting down the tunnels from somewhere. It could not be told what was being said, but they were definitely arguing.
"It's coming from down there," she pointed to a tunnel branching off to the right.
Something was casting long shadows on the flickering walls, in time with the swell and rise of the voices arguing at the source. The ragtag team of would-be soldiers drew their weapons and proceeded carefully toward the figures, unsure of what they may find. Their anticipation came to a climax when they saw one figure was Bryce Barra, tall and built, speaking with one of the pirates in Ryle's service.
"...The boss ain't happy with how this is working out, Bryce. All the shipments were coming in without a hitch until the last one. What the hell have you got us moving, anyway? One of the things broke out and it's still gone, and we had a leak in another that poisoned some of our crew! And to top it all off, the knighthood is onto us now. They've already raided the mansion, I mean, they're in there right now!"
"Why am I talking to you? Where's Ryle?"
"He's in the storeroom back there, but I'm just relaying the message, Bryce. Saving my boss the trouble of having to say it again when he does talk to you."
"That's not important, the important thing is that the subst- I mean the shipment made it through alright, correct? The latest one is still at the shipyard where I asked?"
"Yes it is."
"And you can still transport the next few shipments across Illisa Bay, can't you? No other ships can make it through that sea without falling into the hands of those Neo-Dragonians-"
"But you're not getting anymore shipments, Bryce. The boss is through with this."
Bryce turned away and massaged his forehead impatiently.
"Ryle, Ryle, you are a man of such little faith."
"The boss doesn't care about faith, Bryce, he cares about getting his money without being-"
The lackey was cut short when Bryce abruptly turned and jabbed him in the stomach. He doubled over while his heels left the ground. His mouth hung open in an awkward manner, as though he were about to dry-heave. A stream of blood then leaked from his open lips. Bryce had stabbed him.
"I may not look like it, but I'm a man of faith," Bryce Barra spoke in a pleasant and conversational tone that was disturbing to those out of sight, "it's such an important thing when you seem to have nothing else. We live in such secular times. People need to be reminded of where they come from, where their faith belongs. Your boss is helping me with that- or should I say us? Yes. He's helped all of us. But now I'm done with him, a lot like I'm done with the rest of you."
He drew the blade quickly from the gut of the pirate he had murdered. The man's fingers went to cover the wound uselessly as he fell among the sewage to die. Even these criminals weren't below double-crossing each other. But Barra was alone now, without his guards to help or pirates to intervene. Cross saw the opportunity to strike.
"You want to talk about your faith?"
As he stepped into the light, Cross saw Bryce slowly turn his head to look at him. He showed no surprise, or anger. Cross only saw hunger in his eyes, a hunger that made him freeze and stare back. Something horrible was wrong with this man.
"Then I'm all ears," he spoke nonetheless.
"Who the hell are you?"
"I'm here to learn all I can from you about the church," Cross ignored his question, "We want to know everything, what you've smuggled in, what's the purpose behind the shipyard, why you're killing thousands of people... all of it."
Bryce seemed amused at this, but his anger soon showed as Cross' allies appeared behind him, ready for a fight. His stance didn't change, but his eyes seemed to linger on Soren.
"I see you finally found your way in, merchant. But that's not what you are, is it? Of course not. So few of us are what we say we are."
Cross was put off by this. Bryce was no quavering coward like Henri Bouillard, but some sort of empty shell. An empty shell that was hungry. His tone of voice and position hadn't changed since he stabbed the pirate, who he now pointed to with his knife.
"You're the knighthood he was talking about? HA! But half of you are only children! These criminals are so unreliable, fearing the lot of you."
"You want to try us? Besides, you're no less of a criminal than the rest of them," Cross challenged.
"You want to hear about my faith, young man? I could go on and on. But I will tell you that faith is capable of great things. What your eyes can't see, but what you can feel in your flesh, working behind your dreams like some gilded puppeteer. This is what I hold in my heart, in my hands, because I have faith. It may be the only thing that can save you."
He raised his knife to his own arm and slit a long gash without a moment's hesitation. He then shook his arm so the red drops of plasma fell into a nearby pile of garbage. He then muttered a few words they could not hear as his eyes rolled back to show only the whites. His left hand slowly clenched into a fist, causing the blood to flow faster from the wound on his wrist before it could clot.
When the last of his words had been spoken and he was looking at them once again, something started to move among the refuse where his blood had landed. At first, tiny individual pieces of trash slid or rolled along the floor of their own accord. Compost lumped together and stacked upon itself while scraps of metal climbed it's surface, embedding themselves in the waste. Rotten food wrapped itself around the jagged iron and clung there as the mass grew. It was all coming to life.
"What the hell is this?" Cross heard Soren swear for the first time in a while.
"How's he doing this? He's human isn't he? Humans shouldn't be able to use magic!" Pearl sounded nervous.
"Shouldn't?" Bryce said the word like it was in another language. "Such a stupid word. You say it as though you are in control, you command something to do what it 'should' or 'should not'. But you command nothing!"
What had been no more than garbage seconds before reached a fetid appendage out to hoist itself up. It grabbed the wall and seemed to finally find it's shape. Another arm separated from the mass, it's deformed 'hand' lined with pieces of broken glass that slid and scraped across each other constantly. It attempted to step forward but realized it only had one leg, so it used it's own 'face' to roll forward. Already a similar creature could be seen crawling from another heap, dragging itself across a stream of sewage and incorporating the errant human waste into itself. It ignored Bryce and shambled toward the team of five. He was in complete control of these things.
"I'm not impressed!" Cross tried to sound aggressive despite his unease at the revolting sight, "it looks like your precious faith has given you nothing but control over a pile of trash!"
"Only words, foolish boy. They mean so little."
Bryce had taken the torches from either side of the tunnel wall and as he spoke cast them into the wet stream of grey water and urine, leaving them in almost total darkness.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some loose ends that need to be tied up."
He turned and walked silently down the tunnel before disappearing into a passage on the right. The two figures continued to slink towards the warriors in the near dark. The five were hesitant.
"How do we fight these things? I mean do they even bleed?"
"Everything has a weak spot," Cross spoke as he remembered a similar horror he had faced.
"I say we quit waiting around!"
Pearl stepped forward with her massive weapon ready behind her. As she placed her second hand on the skyward-pointing handle she widened her stance for better balance. A single powerful downward stroke was all it took to cleave the creature wallowing in the stream in two. Debris and chunks of filth flew into the air, some of it landing on the walls and sticking there. The monster was not perturbed. Both halves slopped about and reached out eldritch limbs to seize her. They were immediately severed by the lightning-quick Ikaika's blade. She had used the newer, better looking sword, which was now tarnished.
"I say we stop fighting these things before we get ahead of ourselves. They're practically made out of dung," she muttered with excessive disgust.
"She's right, I don't want to get covered with this stuff," Cross seemed to be reminded of the wound on his shoulder, as he shielded it absentmindedly with his hand.
"They are slow, so we should be able to get past. Just be careful."
As the first garbage-monster reached Soren, he swung his axe sideways at its 'head', effectively smashing it against the wall with similar results from Pearl's attack; a sloppy mess that hardly damaged the creature. He had slowed it down, though.
"Go!"
As his companions rushed by on the dry shore of the tunnel, he found himself unable to remove his weapon from the wall. He planted one boot on the stone and yanked with all his might. The head of his axe finally came free, trailing gooey strands from the flattened face of his foe. He dodged a swipe from the hand covered in sharp glass and hopped over the arm of the other monster that reached for him as he went to follow his friends. A glance over his shoulder showed one of the strange things hunched over the corpse of the pirate, lurching grotesquely and moving beneath the surface as it drained the body of all its blood. He shut that horrific image out of his head as he ducked into the passage through which Bryce had gone. This offshoot of the aqueducts was different in that it had not been lined carefully with building materials but was hewn from the rock beneath Fletz itself. He found his allies waiting here for him in single file, their intent eyes filled with relief at his arrival.
"Keep going, I want to create as much distance between those things and us as possible."
There was no argument to that. As they followed the winding hidden passage, light began to catch the edges of the moist stone once again, giving them something to follow. Cross' breath caught as they reached the exit to the tunnel, weary of what they had already faced and what was to come next. More voices emanated from their destination, a huge room built as part of the sewers, with the same sickly yellow stone on the walls. The ceiling was much taller than the previous tunnels, and was nearly stacked to the top in places with both small and enormous wooden crates. The containers were so numerous that maze-like corridors wove between them, and it was from somewhere in there that the voices came. Cross was sure that they had found whatever it was that was being sent to that shipyard, the deadly cargo that the pirate had spoken of. There was no indication that whatever was inside had been alive like he said, though.
An angry but immediately familiar voice rose up from somewhere amongst the crates.
"Why does this asshole think it's funny or something to keep me waiting like this? I'm not excited by the idea of playing cat and mouse with whoever's got my paycheck. Do I look like that kind of idiot to you?"
"No, boss. You don't look like any kind of idiot."
It was certainly Ryle. From the sound of it, Bryce hadn't found him yet either. That meant he was somewhere in this room, hiding among the wooden boxes like an overgrown rat in the hold of a massive ship. Cross felt a tap at his shoulder and his mouth was covered before he could say "what?" Soren pointed toward an aisle through the crates and wordlessly told Cross and Angela to follow him through. Ikaika and Pearl took a different route, deciding to fan out to prevent their foe from possibly flanking them. The branching halls between the rows were no less claustrophobic than the rest of this stinking sewer to Cross, but the high roof helped to keep the sweat off his neck. Eventually Soren rounded a corner before stopping and quickly turning back. When Cross spread his hands and mouthed "why?" the hefty former lumberjack pointed a finger upward and boosted Cross on top of one of the shorter crates. The farmer hoisted himself on top of a few other boxes before finally peeking his head over the one on top of the stack. Below was an open patch clear of crates for the most part, with the entire ensemble of pirates gathered around, sitting on boxes or against walls, guarding the entrance to an arch big enough to fit even the largest of the wooden crates through. The ground within the archway sloped drastically upward, possibly towards somewhere near the docks of Fletz.
"I mean, hell, it's not like my reputation precedes me or anything. Infamous as I am, my services are invaluable. Who else could have gotten all that shit he wanted across the bay without getting sunk by those Dragonian dirtbags? Tough one to answer, isn't i-"
He stopped mid-sentence and stood perfectly still.
"Boss, what's-"
"Shut the fuck up!" He hissed. The pirate leader's back was to Cross, but he could see the man trying to communicate silently with his subordinate. The lesser bandit leaned to look over his boss' shoulder but Ryle whispered something along the lines of "Don't fucking look!"
He then strolled over to a crate that reached his waist in height. With blinding, sudden speed he punched through the wooden planking on top and swiftly withdrew a flintlock rifle. He turned and seemed to blindly fire somewhere to Cross' right. It was anything but a blind fire. He heard a cry of pain from that direction and looked to see Ikaika clutching a wound from a bullet that had passed straight through her thigh. She deftly rolled and fell behind more cover.
"Nice shot boss!"
"I love it when he does that!"
"I've told you guys too many times," he flicked at one of his ears with a digit protruding from a fingerless black glove, "nothing gets past these old skin flaps."
He threw the rifle aside without reloading and instead drew a fresh one from the same crate.
"And anybody else out there, show yourself now. I only want to talk. No shooting, I promise."
Some of the pirates behind him chuckled and they continued to jostle each other about their captain's marksmanship. Suddenly filled with rage at this, Cross fought the lead ball of fear in his stomach and stood up from his hiding place. Almost instantly a bullet whizzed past his head, through the hair over his shoulder and split apart a plank of wood behind him. He ducked immediately once again.
"I thought you said you wouldn't shoot!" He screamed.
"If I had wanted to, I could have killed you right there, kid. I only miss on purpose. Come back out and let's have a talk."
Reluctantly Cross peered over the top of the crate again. Ryle was standing with one hand on his hip, the other holding the gun with the barrel leaning on his shoulder. He had not retrieved another rifle from the box. His emerald eyes stared right into Cross' own and one side of his mouth was curled into a vicious smirk.
"So it's you again. You were the one up on that balcony, weren't you? You got a lot between the legs comin' after my crew and I like this. And you're just a kid, too! Haha, I love it! But you and your friends ought to get outta here, you've got no idea what you're dealing with."
"I know that you're Ryle Salmillia, the most feared pirate in all of Fletz." He called back, unsure of where to take the conversation.
The man in black laughed.
"Why thank you, but it's the most feared pirate in all of Endiness, for when you tell the story to your buddies in daycare. But, it's not like we're doing anything illegal or nothing."
He turned to his crew who laughed uproariously at his sarcastic remark. Cross was tired of being made fun of.
"You can commit all the crimes you want, I don't care. We're here for Bryce Barra, you're boss."
"He's not my fuckin' boss! You get this straight, I answer to no one! I cut a deal where I can to make some money, that's it! Besides, I don't work with that shithead anymore, so if you want to find him, go look by yourself. Going through me will get you killed, kid."
Then Cross remembered what Bryce had said in the tunnel.
"Bryce already killed your messenger, Ryle. He says if you're not working for him anymore, then your just a loose end that needs to be burned off. He said that it didn't matter if some of your cargo leaked and poisoned your men or broke loose and ran off. What is all this stuff you're taking to the shipyard for him?"
"Man, is this kid stupid or what? I didn't work for him, I worked with him! And I only brought a couple things to the shipyard for Bryce. Think! Why would I transport something in such large quantities across Illisa Bay only to have him put it on a ship and send it back out there again? He took the rest of the cargo somewhere else, I don't know where. That shit doesn't matter to me. But the fact that you know all this tells me you know more than I thought, and so you're telling the truth. I'll deal with Bryce, kid. Don't you worry. When he comes to tie up this loose end he'll get more than he bargained for."
Now that Cross thought about it, it didn't make much sense.
"Then what's all this stuff?"
"My own personal store room. But I've already told you too much," he threw the second rifle away and went to get another, "when I turn around, I want you gone or next time I won't miss."
This time, however, he stopped with both hands on the edge of the lid, leaning forward to listen once again. Cross didn't know how his hearing could be so advanced, but he was ready to leave this place for good. Then he heard it too. A low rumbling, like distant thunder, from somewhere within the catacombs. The sound travelled through the earth all around them, making it impossible to tell where it came from. But as it grew louder -and closer- something blocked the light pouring in through the massive archway on the far wall of the chamber. Something huge.
What happened was so fast and bizarre that Cross had barely any time to comprehend it. A flood of grayish-brown sludge poured down the angled chute leading up from the chamber, taking up the entire width and height of the arch. Barely discernible shapes could be seen stuck in the liquid, like bones or large chunks of scrap metal. Ryle and a few of his men barely escaped the surge, but the rest of the crew were consumed by the viscous fluid, which brought a horrendous stench with it. Some were crushed against crates as the heavy mass crashed into the room, others could be seen drowning in it as their limbs were pulled under by voracious pseudopods. One unfortunate man was impaled on a sharp pole, which was soon joined by other rusty steel filaments, forming three fingers and a thumb that crunched his body in its grip. A head roiled out from the filth, appearing to be the skull of some giant bull as wide as the arch through which it had passed and held in place by the sentient sewage. It's jaw opened, revealing teeth formed from broken swords, glass bottles or other sharp objects, and a deep bellow issued from somewhere within. It then set to wiping out the remainder of Ryle's crew, sweeping them away with its arms or snapping them up in its jaws to be ground into pulp. It left a trail of the sticky, oddly-coloured sludge wherever it went.
"What the fuck is this thing?" Ryle stared in horror from atop a stack of crates.
"It's Bryce!" Cross called to him, "he's controlling it!"
"Bryce, you son of a bitch," the always-angry pirate got even angrier, "I'll make you pay for this!"
He looked to Koryn and Trevid, his only surviving men, who were cowering on a crate below him.
"Koryn, Trevid, get the fuck outta here!"
"What about you, boss?"
"I'm going to take care of our friend here, but someone has to get back to the ship! I'm counting on you two idiots, so don't fuck this up!"
The two scrambled for the nearest exit as their captain set about finding another weapon. The enormous creature seemed to notice Cross despite not having eyes, and extended an arm which grew impossibly long to seize him. The young farmer only just managed to jump to another stack before everything where he had been standing was destroyed by the beast. It began to crawl its way further into the room with its arms, its body continuing to flow in through the entrance and beginning to find its way between the crates where Pearl, Soren and Angela were hiding. As Cross tried to pull himself onto a tall wooden keg where he had landed, the head of the monster opened its jaws and reached out on a long neck to snatch him up. Thinking quick, Angela threw a Pellet up at the roof, causing large chunks of the stone to cave in on the creatures' skull. The stones weren't finished yet, as they hovered around the monster firing tiny pieces of themselves at incredible speed through the stained bone. They then simultaneously threw themselves at the head, and the force of the blow knocked one of its horns off with an astounding crack.
On the ground, Soren and Pearl were barely holding off the muck as it surged toward them, taking large swings with their weapons to remove any appendages attempting to seize them. They were quickly becoming too tired to continue. Clueless as to how to damage this monstrosity, Cross hurled his spear like a javelin, but it landed uselessly, sticking straight up out of the slime. An arm swung at him again, failing to land but knocking over the keg he had been standing on. As he tried to stand up the mouth of its head, now riddled with holes from the pellet attack, opened wide and went to swallow him once again. He managed to clamber over the wooden barrel, which became lodged sideways in the creatures' jaws. Another arm made a grab at him, and with nowhere else to go he ran over the barrel and up the monstrous skull. The thing raised its head and flung him off. Tumbling through the air, hoping to fall somewhere safe, terror like no other gripped him when he landed knee deep in the grey-brown goo and started to sink.
"Cross!" Angela shrieked as she went to retrieve another attack item. As she was about to toss a Spinning Gale into the air the slime shoved a crate into her, knocking her to the ground.
All hope seemed lost as the large keg cracked and began to give between the jaws of the beast. Black powder, not beer, slowly flowed out from one crack. Cross' struggles caused him to sink faster, and soon tendrils reached up and began to pull him in by the arms. He was almost up to his neck, and could feel harder objects below the surface scraping past his skin and squeezing the air out of his chest. Then Ryle emerged from behind a crate, another rifle locked firmly in his grip and held tight to his shoulder. He was already taking careful aim and fired less than a second after he had appeared. The bullet hit its target dead on; a scrap of flint protruding from the monsters' body. Sparks flew from the impact, and several landed in the cascade of black powder leaking from the keg. The gunpowder soon ignited and the flame climbed upwards into the barrel, causing it to explode with white-hot fire. The bone head flew apart into thousands of pieces and most of the upper part of the creature's body disintegrated in the incinerating blast. That alone would not have been enough, but the explosion also ignited a stream of methane gas trapped inside the sludge from the decomposing sewage. Orange explosions were barely visible through the thick liquid, but as they moved throughout its mass soon gained enough pressure to erupt. The entire creature flew apart with a deafening bang as the explosion destroyed it. Horrible sludge now coated nearly everything in the room.
A pile of the decomposing matter began to stir, wriggling in the lake of filth. Soren and Pearl moved in to finish off whatever it was even as they wiped the stuff from their eyes. It bubbled up and a human figure emerged, holding one of its arms. It was Cross.
"Are you alright?" Soren asked.
He simply stood quiet, then leaned forward and vomited into the already disgusting mess around him.
"I'm better now," he choked.
Angela ran to him, a Body Purifier already open in one hand.
"Drink this before your arm gets infected, if it already isn't. Then take this," she hurriedly reached for a healing potion in her bag after he took the medicine from her.
"Me too," Pearl said weakly, as she had also been injured in the desperate struggle. Both of her hands were bloody and there was a ragged scratch down her back.
"Are you injured too, Soren?" Angela held out a healing item to him.
"Just get me a bath and some clean clothes and I will be fine. Where is Ikaika? And Ryle, where is he?"
"Up here."
She hadn't gotten very far after rolling off the crate, and the entire leg of her harem pants was soaked with blood. Refusing any treatment, she only asked to be taken out of the sewer and away from the room which now had brown walls instead of yellow, a very unwelcome change from an already ugly place. When Soren offered to carry her she also refused, instead opting to walk on her good leg while receiving support from both Angela and Pearl. They couldn't find Ryle anywhere. Soren lead the weary group through the first passage they could find, and after a walk that felt very long they reached a dead end with a dust-covered ladder leading up to a wooden trap door. The rungs, however, were devoid of such dust. Ignoring this, they climbed one by one to the top, with Soren going first so as to push the heavy door out of the way. He found himself in a room so long it could have been a hallway, filled with dust and cobwebs. Rays of white light slipped between what he guessed were floorboards overhead, catching floating particles of dust that moved between the shadows. He then reached down with one hand to help Ikaika, who had slowly made her way up the ladder. Soon all five of them were making their way down the narrow room, made so by the broken skeletons of opened crates lining either side. Empty cages and barrels had already gathered dust in other corners. They ignored them all, driving forward with the purpose of going back to the castle to rest.
Angela noticed that Cross had fallen behind when they were about to ascend the stairs at the end of the basement room. He stood motionless in the middle of the wooden boards, gazing blankly at something to his right. She approached him and tried to find where his eyes were locked. When she saw what it was her heart skipped a beat and she had to hold back a gasp.
Slumped between two discarded containers was a body covered in as much dust as everything else in this misplaced tomb. The head was hanging stiffly and covered in pure white hair that had thinned out over time. A knitted shawl was draped over the skeletal shoulders, hiding the dried out skin still clinging uselessly to the bones. Agnes Roderick had still been wearing a blue house dress when she had died. The sight was pathetic beyond description.
"They killed her," Cross said in a voice as dead as she, "she trusted them to protect her, and once they were in they took everything she had... even her life. No children, no other family, old and alone-"
"Stop talking like that. You're scaring me."
She could see the gloss in his eyes and lifted her hand to far side of his dirty face to turn him away. He didn't flinch like she had thought he may, but he felt cold. Cold as the dead.
"Why are they doing this, Angela? Why does this have to happen?"
"We're going to find out, Cross. We can try to make things right."
"I don't know anymore, Angela. I'm so tired..."
Pearl had noticed them talking and came back to see what they were looking at.
"Hey guys, what- oh no," her voice dropped as she saw what they were so low about. "Let's get out of here, you don't want to look at this."
"You're right... I don't," Cross finally seemed resigned to it and slouched as he plodded toward the stairs.
Ikaika was seated on a step, holding her injured leg.
"Is everything alright?" She looked up at Cross, but he only continued up the stairs quietly.
As he reached the plateau the voices of his friends below him sounded as though they were underwater. Angela was explaining something and he thought he heard Soren say "Then it is as I feared..." He could picture the bearded man folding his arms and looking at the ground as he said it. After passing through a doorway Cross found himself in a tall open room, broken or intact pews on either side of an aisle like wide brown gravestones. Stained glass windows depicting an epic battle between dragoons and winglies took up the walls all the way to the ceiling. Some had been smashed in, others as pristine as though they were brand new. Everything else inside was either destroyed or missing. A few of the rafters had collapsed, one end resting on the ground while the other led up to a platform where the brass bell could be rung. The bell itself had fallen onto the platform, part of it was visible through a hole in the bottom of the wooden surface through which a length of rope dangled. This was the inside of the abandoned church down the street from what was formerly the mansion of Agnes Roderick.
He went to open the front doors but found they wouldn't budge. He remembered that they had been boarded shut from the outside. When he turned around standing, waiting for him at the end of the aisle was Bryce Barra.
And he was ready for a fight.
I'm back again, and I think this has been the longest time spent between updates. I hate to keep people waiting to read more of this story if they like it, but sometimes I just get stuck and stop for a while. I'm such a slow writer. I go back and make a lot of edits too. Not a bad thing, I guess, but I still wish I could be like some of these writers who churn out 5,000+ words a day. Anyway, if you're reading this, I hope you had a great summer. Mine was kinda shit but, hey they can't all be winners. Working door to door sales was... an experience. A horrible one. Quitting felt great, especially the phone call the next day asking me to come back. Saying no never quite felt so good. Now I'm in a kitchen at a local sports grill, glad to say I think I'll be there for a while. The hours are very manageable and the work is easy. Plus I'm not inhaling pure tar. Always a plus.
But enough about me. This chapter was a tough one to write, but hopefully the end result is satisfactory. I hope plenty of action pleases you. The plot is moving along a little slowly, since we're still in the stage where a lot of questions are being brought up. I have to tweak a lot of what goes on now so that what happens later on still makes sense and links everything together. Like I believe I've said before, I have a lot of this story planned ahead but I want to be sure I don't write myself into a corner. Be a dear and please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading.
