Chapter Thirteen
Soul Asylum
Deirdre never understood why he thought his problems were just going to be over, but mere minutes went by after he and Skylar sat down before a piercing screech entered his mind, tried to gain control. He and the spirit of his Millennium Balance fought the intrusion, and succeeded. Instead of complete domination, he received an ultimatum.
"Quite cozy in here." Marik chided, standing inside the black, hollow room that was Deirdre's Spirit Chamber. The landlord of the body stood glaring at the intruder while Ahmose towered just behind him. Neither looked as cheery or relieved as they had mere minutes before. In fact it seemed that winning the duel with Griff only strengthened a boiling rage culminating inside of Deirdre. However, he did not act on the hate seething inside, he simply stood with his arms crossed and awaited Marik to do whatever it was he was there for.
"I won't be long if that is what is what's bothering you."
"What's bothering me is you deciding that you can just muscle your way into my head. Now if you don't mind, get lost."
"First of all, I could make you my dribbling thrall in an instant if I so chose too so I hope you won't be foolish enough to provoke me!"
Deirdre grinned and shook his head. "You tried, Marik. I felt you trying too gain control but I fought you off. Your power is not on par with my own, I've come to understand."
"How dare you! My power is absolute! I OWN you, child!" Marik thrashed inside of the chamber, gaining only a slight rise out of his company. "And you will pay for your insolence soon, once I have firmly set myself as ruler of this world."
"Then I guess I'll be waiting awhile, eh?"
"Silence and listen to me! Despite your uselessness, you are the owner of a Millennium Item and therefore, in accordance with the Prophecy, you are to join all others in a grand spectacle. A battle that will decide the fate's of many."
"The Autumn of Man?" Ahmose quoted, remembering with quite some clarity, the antediluvian scriptures back in his time. He knew all the mythical mumbo-jumbo and peculiar jargon, and Deirdre came to rely on him as a textbook of information whenever it came to understanding something that Marik or Yami Yugi doted upon.
"Quite right. It will be tonight at midnight. A full moon will light up the sky and the ritual will begin. Once started it is every person for themselves. If you survive, which is doubtful--"
Deirdre scoffed and gave Marik a nasty look.
"--then you will be worthy of the final duel. Ah, now that will be a show worthy of history."
"Not likely," Ahmose grumbled, his deep penetrating voice reverberating in the room. "The last one was barely remembered and survives now only as crude carvings on the ruined temple walls of our fore-fathers. It is likely that this one won't even get honorable mention."
"I'll make sure otherwise, my dear vizier. Under my rule, everyone will know and they will come to respect and fear me as the victor."
"Again, not likely."
Marik shrugged and held up his Rod. In a flash of light and a swirling cloud of purple smoke, he was gone, not unlike many theater magician's Deirdre had seen before. He turned around to face his great guardian, whose face was grim and unreadable in its emotion. His thick, python-like arms were crossed over his bulging chest but remained still as no breath heaved in his long-dead lungs.
"What are you thinking, Ahmose?"
No reply came for many moments, but then Deirdre began to clearly hear frenzied shouts from the outside world. Apparently entering his Spirit Chamber caused Deirdre's body to become quite motionless, almost to the point of looking dead. Skylar must have noticed and after several inaudible attempts at stirring him out of his reverie, she began to scream insanely. He was probably being shaken rather violently now, if he knew her as well as he thought he did.
Still no answer came and Ahmose was looking no less stern. Deirdre decided it best to let him gather his thoughts in peace and he returned to the mortal coil.
"DEIRDRE!"
"Ah! What?! WHAT!"
Skylar jumped back as Deirdre rose to his feet, being startled severely and knocking over the flower vase and the salt and pepper shakers. Luckily their drinks remained intact. Skylar was panting hard and clutching her heart while people all over the restaurant's terrace were looking at them with great concern.
"Um, please return to your drinks. Nothing wrong here."
One by one, the people grudgingly stumbled back into their own conversations. Likely several were now about them.
Deirdre looked down at the ghastly pale and terrified Skylar and with an apologetic smile; he sat back down in his seat. "Sorry about that."
"God I hate you sometimes." She gasped.
He smiled rather largely, as if he understood all too well, and took a sip of his drink.
"What was that about? You just blanked! It was like that movie with the people who got their bodies snatched by aliens."
"Oh please."
"I'm serious! I was worried!"
"You worry too much. I was talking to the spirit."
Skylar threw up her hands in exasperation. "Oh, and that is so normal! Everyone has an ancient Egyptian king living inside of them! What was I thinking?"
"He wasn't a pharaoh," Deirdre commented. "He was the royal advisor to the pharaoh."
Skylar spat. "Oh, well excuse me!"
Skylar unwound the wool scarf she had bought around her neck and set it down on the table. It was brown and green checkers with fluffy tassels hanging off either end. Getting Deirdre down to the mall, even if it was only a five-minute walk, had been quite the chore. He was the epitome of the male stereotype of hating shopping but after several minutes of pleading and another five of pushing, he begrudgingly agreed. Though any other day it would have been a impossible task.
Though he was the same old stubborn, emotionless Deirdre she had known over the last few days, he was slowly growing more understanding. If nothing else he was beginning to understand women and how they always got their way. His penance came in the form of smoothies, which he again, after much arguing, accepted from her. Though he ended up buying but didn't seem bothered by it.
"Well the scarf was expensive!"
"I told you too buy the latex one. It was heat-insulated and twenty bucks cheaper."
"Yeah but it was so tacky and slick. I would have been blinded by the glare and choked by the fashion police."
"Well it makes either choice seem rather silly now, doesn't it? It is past noon and has to be eighty degrees out here."
As if she was embarrassed, Skylar bundled herself up further into her jacket. "Well I'm still cold."
"I gave you the option to eat inside."
"But it's nice outside!"
As if unable to comprehend her logic, Deirdre continued on with his much more valid half of the discussion. "The ceiling fan is on and a blue summer's sky is painted on the walls. Difference?"
Neither one seemed to notice the waitress who had come about a minute earlier and was listening intently in on their conversation. They both looked up at her at the same time and while Skylar was sort of embarrassed, Deirdre didn't even blink.
"So, you two lovebirds want anything else?"
"Tell her that the mural inside is as realistic as actually being outside."
The waitress looked at Deirdre like he had grown a second head but turned to Skylar as if she was about to do as he asked. Skylar waved her away with her hand and a smile.
"Ignore him, he's just retarded."
Deirdre looked rather hurt about that comment but the waitress just laughed and walked away, saying something about "young love and all that it entails."
Skylar was smiling for some odd reason and only after a minute of personal grumbling did Deirdre notice it. He looked at her through his upraised eyebrow before bothering to ask her what was so amusing, though he knew immediately that he would regret it.
"She called us 'lovebirds.' "
"Shut up, I don't care."
"We're in love."
"We are not. I said shut up."
"You wanna hug me, you wanna kiss me." She sang happily.
"I swear to Christ, Skylar. Not Another Word."
She agreed to his wishes and instead turned around in her chair and overlapped her hands in the front and placed them on her shoulders, giving the ruse that she was in a passionate make-out session with someone in front of her. Complete with sucking and moaning noises.
"You are so trying my patience."
"Oh, oh my love! Let's go back to my room and make sweet love all night long!"
"Does strangling you count?!" He hissed.
But before he could make good on his threat, a searing pain overcame his entire body. It felt as if fire ants were dancing on his skin, thousands of them simultaneously biting him with their mandibles. For a moment he attempted to ignore it, no longer in the state of mind for threatening his companion. But once the pain intensified he could no longer ignore it and biting his lip until it bled wasn't even close to the relief he desired.
Skylar had turned back around now, a huge smile playing on her face, but it quickly melted into a frown of worry as she saw Deirdre writhing in pain as he sat with his head buried in his sweating palms. His hands covered his face and the plastic drape covering the table was crumpling up in his direction, like he was biting it.
The feeling grew worse, now he was blinded with agony. He shot to his feet, this time overturning the table and spilling all its contents. People all over looked back at them for a minute but actually turned away immediately, thinking this was just more childish behavior coming from their direction.
"Deirdre?! Deirdre what's wrong?"
Her words died out as the golden ring on his finger shined bright and transformed into a large baroque scale. The eye-shaped emblem on the front was blazing as if on fire.
"He's, he's attacking me! He wants control!"
Not knowing about the existence of Marik, Skylar thought he meant the other inhabitant of Deirdre's mind. The spirit of the Millennium Balance, and that is just what she asked.
"Y-yes! He's trying to...fight..."
"Fight? Fight what? Fight you?"
But her words struck deaf ears. Deirdre mind was no longer there, only his body was. His eyes had gone pitch black and caused a frightened gasp from Skylar, who stumbled backward, kicking away her chair as she did so. Yami Deirdre took a tentative step forward, as if testing his footing, but then the spirit seemed sure of his ability to walk, to breathe again, and approached her. A black aura of power rippled off of him, causing nearby objects to dart away from his path as if being picked up and thrown by an invisible hand. No one around understood and did what any other person in such a bizarre situation would do: they ran away screaming.
Yami Deirdre was looming over the cowering Skylar now, blocking out the sun with his imposing form. Skylar screamed in a mix of both fear and fury and got to her feet, pounding on his chest with her fists without relent. "Let him go! Let Deirdre go you freak!"
An echoing laugh escaped his throat and with the hand that wasn't clutching the Millennium Balance he grabbed Skylar around the neck and lifted her up off her feet. She choked and struggled, grabbing his iron-hard arm in a futile attempt to break his grip.
He said nothing discernible and with a casual swing he launched Skylar across the patio and into the protective flower-patterned iron grate blocking the fifteen foot fall to the ground below. It creaked in protest as her weight slammed against it, knocking her unconscious and nearly snapping it clean off. One of the people who decided to hide under his own upturned table ran to her aid as Yami Deirdre lurched like a zombie into the restaurant, causing chairs, condiments, and even heroic citizens to soar backwards if they got to close.
The spirit continued his not-so subtle warpath through the café and down the stairs, ripping the entrance doors off the hinges as he neared and strolled through, completely focused on some mysterious goal.
Serenity let out a cute little laugh at Tristan's words, though just as easily as it could have been mistaken for a joke as an insult.
Duke Devlin had joined their ranks, assisting the incompetent and the blind. In a sense he figured himself the only person worth a hill of beans out of the three but kept his comments to himself. He was, after all, supposed to be reformed from the stuck-up jerk that they had met during that whole Dungeon Dice Monsters fiasco. Yes, no one would be risking their careers today or be forced into a dog costume and humiliated, though he wouldn't mind getting Serenity into something more...slinky.
Tristan slowed down and joined alongside Duke who was walking behind them. Serenity likely still believed that Tristan was walking next to her so encase she reached out he had to hurry up. Though it seemed that his intentions were entirely benign though rather unscrupulous. He had gotten behind her simply too look at her curvaceous backside.
Duke saw what he was doing and with a grin and a disapproving shake of his head he agreed whole-heartedly in the form of holding out his hands and making the warping motion of a woman's sultry form. Tristan gave him a friendly smack on the shoulder and ran back to Serenity's side.
And as if they didn't have enough problems to deal with, terrified screaming pierced the calm afternoon air. It was not far ahead.
"What was that?!" Serenity said nervously, throwing out her hands in the hopes of grabbing something so she didn't accidentally get lost just in the off-chance a riot or something was happening. Tristan grabbed her flailing arms and pulled her against him. She graciously latched onto his waste and held on for dear life.
"I'll go look ahead. You stay here with Serenity, okay?" Duke suggested.
"Yeah, all right. Hurry back, man."
He nodded and took off, running down the street just as people came running towards him, waving their arms in blind panic and pushing their way around him. Duke continued running until he got up over the hump in the street and saw a kid standing dumbly in the middle of the road. Cars, smashed up and some even with odd cuts and burns in them, were piled up all over but not one touched him. The occupants of these vehicles ran away while others attempted to seek retribution but got nothing but an idle wave of the hand and were thrown away several feet effortlessly.
Duke didn't know what to make of it. He had never seen that kid before nor had he ever seen the strange item held tightly in his hand. A towering inferno of black flame twisted around the boy, scorching the very concrete beneath his feet.
"Outta this world," Duke mumbled and turned around heading back towards his other comrades.
Tristan and Serenity had wisely retreated out of the street and sat nearby against a run-down soda shop. Duke went running back and Tristan stood to greet him. "So? What did you find? What was the cause off all that commotion?"
Duke gestured his thumb over his shoulder, pointing back from whence he came. "I guess it has something to do with this strange kid back there. He has this giant black fire coming off of him and it doesn't look like anything can touch him. Even cars are stopped and burned when they get too close."
Tristan gave him an incredulous look but didn't dismiss it as entirely impossible. "Well, that's sort of weird."
"Yeah, but if it helps whatever heroic action you're thinking about right now, I'm guessing it has something to do with a big metal produce scale he's holding. Maybe it's some new government experiment gone wrong."
"Yeah, maybe. Let's go check it out." Tristan held out his hand to the calm and composed Serenity. "Here, c'mon, you're coming too."
"'Kay." She said timidly and after a second of fumbling, took his hand and allowed him to pull her up. The three took off experimentally in the direction Duke came back from, walking slowly as to not accidentally disturb the cause of this uproar. The last thing they needed along with being chased by a gang was being chased by some maniac with magical powers.
They walked up the hill and crouched when they were within viewing distance, and just like Duke described it, there was the boy who hadn't moved from his spot but had turned around. He was now facing away but it was rather difficult to make out his form now. The fire was growing thicker.
"Who is that...?" Tristan breathed, looking at Duke who simply shrugged.
"What is what?" Serenity asked, gazing directly forward but obviously not being able to see anything due to the bandages covering her healing eyes.
Duke looked over Tristan's back at the girl. "Well, you heard what I described to Tristan, right?"
She nodded, still looking in the direction of the burning boy.
"It's just that. Some strange kid is using a...power, or a device of some sort. Really big, flashy magic or--"
"It's Deirdre!" Tristan shouted, pointing down at the kid who had now turned back to face in their direction but wasn't looking at them, rather he was intent on another car that had weaved around from the eastern street, going over the sidewalk, trying to get around him. It failed and with a simple thrust of his hand, a ball of eldritch fire erupted from Deirdre's hand and launched into the passenger side window of the car. If the driver hadn't been quick on his feet he would have been torched as the entire car went up in a cascading blaze.
Even at their distance the heat was extreme enough to make all three of them turn their heads. When they looked back, thick dark smoke was blotting out the sun.
"We have'ta get down there." Tristan announced and stood to his feet.
"Are you insane?!" Duke shouted, getting to his feet as well. "What do you intend on doing about this? Ask him nicely to stop wrecking the city? I don't think he'll be too keen on listening."
"I'm with Tristan." Serenity said, also rising to her feet.
Duke sighed and threw up his hands. "Great, I decided to help a couple of lunatic courage sticklers..."
The group (Duke included) ran down the hill and snuck around as quietly and carefully as they could manage. When they got past the smoldering mess of twisted metal that used to be a car moments before they could clearly see Deirdre standing a few feet away, his deadly fire still blazing as he watched like a hawk for anyone who decided to interfere in whatever it was he was doing. He launched the occasional fireball, though none seemed bound to kill anyone. Most simply struck the street in someone's path or blasted away a section of building. The three of them, and likely Deirdre as well, could hear sirens in the distance approaching.
"He's causing an awful lot of trouble." Tristan commented but was stopped from saying anything more when Deirdre laughed and held up his Millennium Balance. He held it loosely above his head and the two chained scales began to ooze a white glowing liquid which overflowed from the dishes and splashed down to the ground, settling like water. The eye emblem in the center hummed with an arcane energy, pulsing and even spinning on the spherical center of the Balance.
His aura blazed again, forcing the three to cower and cover their faces from the strange sensation, which was like fire as in it was hot but it was also cold. It was like they had been microwaved.
When they looked back up, Deirdre was passed out on the ground, the fire had died out. Instead standing in front of him was a terrifying creature of prodigious height. It was skeletal in its appearance, gaunt to the extreme and seemingly held together by a very thin stretch of flesh. Tristan and Duke cringed at the sight of its face, which was like a horrid cross between a bird and a goat. It had elements from both these creatures, curving horns and a razor-sharp beak, feathers and possibly even patches of scales.
"Oh man." Tristan whispered, as the monster let out a frightful howl which sounded like the anguished screams of a thousand people. Serenity didn't need to see the monster to become terrified and she held her hands over her ears to drown out any further screams; tears were pouring from her eyes.
The police and fire trucks had arrived followed closely behind by several ambulances. The monster took off immediately, crushing vehicles and maybe even a few unlucky officers beneath its talons. Though both Duke and Serenity were rather terrified, and Tristan was not the acception, he still found the bravado to bolt away from them for a minute and retrieve the barely alive form of Deirdre. When he pulled him back to the group, Duke made out several minor burns all over his body but nothing looked very severe. Likely he was now mostly suffering from exhaustion.
"Tristan? Tristan! You here?!"
"Yeah, I'm back." He said panting, laying Deirdre down at their feet. He panted slightly and moved his mouth like he was going to say something but no words came out.
"What happened?" She said racked with worry.
"I dunno. Deirdre called whatever that thing is and I guess it drained him. He's dead on his feet."
The monster let out another torturous wail, again causing Serenity great emotional pain and she let out a muffled scream before breaking down into tears again. It slammed its bony fist into a still-moving ambulance; its occupants having to dive out of the moving vehicle or risk being crushed.
"Damn you, Ahmose..."
Duke and Tristan looked down at Deirdre who was beginning to awaken.
"You trying to say something buddy? Then before you do answer me something! What is that!" Tristan said pointing to the lumbering hulk demolishing the entire area as it walked.
"It is...Egyptian myth...Anubis, g-god of mummification, weighed a person's heart against a f-feather...those who failed, those not pure, were fed to a m-monster..."
"Oh crap." Duke said, followed by a helpless groan.
"Yeah, I remember reading about that in History class too. So, that is the monster?" Tristan observed. "It certainly lives up to the expectation."
"Whatever. What are we gonna do about it? If it stomps on much longer we are gonna have the military and a lot of injured people on our hands."
Tristan shrugged, unsure of how to answer Duke's question. There was nothing they could do, but likely Deirdre could banish it back to the Hell that it came from. "So that is what we will do," he said stoically. "Deirdre's gonna have to get rid of it. He's the only one who probably can, other than firing tank shells and dropping bombs on it."
Duke looked at Deirdre lying with his eyes closed again. "Well, he isn't really up for it now."
Tristan looked at their last hope, who had fallen unconscious again. With a mixture of fear, anger, even resentment, he sighed and shook his head. "We gotta wake him up, again." And as if he had no other choice, Tristan reached down to his hand, where the Millennium Balance was still firmly gripped, and attempted to pry it free.
He was going to talk to the source.
