Chapter 4:
A/N: Once more into the insanity that is Koudelka and Shadow Hearts. No, I don't own them. And I thank AriesCelestial from the bottom of my heart for letting me steal the idea for this story. (Even if she DOESN'T recognize it anymore!) Luv ya! Cudos to Darkannex for his hard work on Koudelka's script.
A voice was calling him in his sleep but he didn't want to listen to it. It called and called, and finally bothered him enough that, with a headache, he woke up. He looked around the darkened room and wondered where he was. Hadn't he been in Changchun last night, drinking and wenching? Well, drinking anyway – yeah, so ... he had to be there still.
Rising from the lumpy bed, he walked unsteadily to the window and pushed open the sash. A full moon shone down from a black velvet sky and stars twinkled ever so faintly in the background. The streets below were rimed in moonlight and no one was below. With a sniff, Yuri knew that it was early morning and sunup was still several hours away. Now what had awakened him? Oh yes, that voice. It kept coming, awake, or asleep, telling him to do things; but Yuri didn't feel like doing them; not right now. What had it said? Ah, yes, catch the train. Yuri felt in the pocket of his leather trousers - nope, no money. Well, he wouldn't be catching the train tonight; besides, what was so damned important? With a shrug he returned to his nice warm empty bed and went back to sleep.
He was just settling into a nice dream - a beautiful blonde girl who smelled sweetly of flowers, swooned in his arms, his eyes drinking her in and his fingers, ever so subtly, touching her through her jacket. She was soft and he was hard and he could feel himself wanting to explore her gentle curves even further when something sharp stuck him in the ribs. With a moan, he opened his eyes. The room in Changchun was gone; instead, he was lying on the cold stone floor of the kitchen in Nemeton Monastery; Koudelka was standing over him, and he looked up to see her legs disappear into a short skirt and above that ... Growling in his throat, he sat up.
"What happened?"
"You ate the poisonous food, remember?" Koudelka said, the tone of her voice reminding him of the voice in his dream. "Are you going to get up now, or do I give you my boot again?"
"You – you cured me?" Yuri asked even as he pushed up onto his feet and shook himself, rubbing his sore ribs.
"Yes. But I won't make a habit of it," she said. "Let's go." Without looking back, she led the way across the warm, fire lit kitchen and through the far door near the cupboard. This opened onto the furnace room, with two large broken furnaces. Tsking to himself, Yuri scrounged the area and found a pipe lying on the ground and took it in hand, putting the dagger in his belt, before following Koudelka through the next door into an herb garden. The herbarium was long and rectangular in shape with a broken fountain on one side and, down to their right, an arbor. On the ground by the dry fountain, they found an unconscious man; he was older than either of them, with graying hair and age wrinkles in his long face and he wore the robes of a priest. Yuri instantly recognized him from descriptions Koudelka had given them last year: James O'Flaherty. He groaned inwardly at the thought of traveling through this monastery with a mad priest, and he said so.
"What are you talking about Yuri?" Koudelka asked then turned toward the overgrown arbor. "Wait, there's something down there," and she walked away.
Yuri stood looking down at the unconscious priest and then up to Koudelka, indecisive. But then, movements in the arbor made him run yelling down the herbarium. A gigantic plant moved out of the shadows, its roots and stem as big around as three trees, and it was topped by a flower in subtle shades of purple and pink. Yuri didn't appreciate the beauty, only the deadliness of the vicious teeth that sprouted from within the petals. The plant lunged at Koudelka, pushing her flat on her back and holding her down. Yuri jumped in front of her, the pipe in his hand, and swung it at the flower head, beating it back with repeated swings; behind him, Koudelka got up and shook her head.
"Yuri, be careful," she called. "Keep it busy while I summon."
"Summon?" Yuri asked then beat on the plant some more. "Okay Koudelka, anything you want babe." With that Yuri jumped onto the roots of the plant, holding on with one hand and using the pipe like a hammer, beating on the stalk, bruising it and sending great shivers down to its roots. The flower head swung back and forth, trying to dislodge the offending insect, finally connecting just as Koudelka finished her summons. Yuri was flung back a good ten feet, sliding along the mossy ground on his back, but quickly jumped to his feet in time to see Koudelka's summons. Red energy enveloped her, and then arced across the intervening space toward the plant, exploding over the flower head in a ball of cascading fire. Yuri nodded in appreciation.
'The girl's got magic all right,' he thought then pursued pounding on the plant while Koudelka again summoned her fire magic. They repeated this pattern for a few minutes, Koudelka bathing the plant in burning flames and Yuri beating on the it with the pipe until it finally crumpled, its stem nearly hacked in half and the flower head with its teeth burnt and melting.
Yuri stood a little way off, the pipe in his hand and a grin of utter happiness on his young face. Koudelka herself shook out her hair and then indicated the priest.
"We should check on him, I suppose," she said and walked back to the fountain. Yuri's grin fell and he frowned, his lips pursed in distaste.
"Do we have to?" he muttered, then silently followed, pipe swinging loosely in one hand.
When they arrived back at the fountain, the priest was coming around; he was sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck and moaning.
"Oh, my head. What – what happened?" he asked and there were distinctive traces of an accent to his speech. When he realized he had company he looked up at Koudelka and Yuri and scowled. "Who on earth are you two?"
"We're the ones saved your sorry ass, priest," Yuri growled.
"Little did I know," the priest said, rising, "that thieves and murderers would rescue a complete stranger." He dusted off his robes, looking around at the herb garden and at the dry fountain behind him. "It's broken now, but not long ago, pure holy water flowed from this font," he said sadly.
Koudelka stepped forward, offering her hand. "My name is Koudelka and this is Yuri," she said. "Would you mind telling us what you're doing here, on this path, and at Nemeton?"
The priest looked at the offered hand but did not take it. "My name is James; James O'Flaherty. I've been… searching… for something and my search brought me to this monastery. But I had no idea this place had become possessed."
"And you had no trouble before now? What about the caretakers?" Koudelka asked.
"Why, they let me in and gave me supper. Why?"
"They tried to kill us, mister priest," Yuri said, again growling at O'Flaherty.
"That's not funny," the priest exclaimed. "It's inappropriate for you to lie to an upstanding believer of the Christian faith."
"Of fu—" Yuri started but Koudelka held him off.
James turned, a frown creasing his aged brow, and knelt at the font. As he began to pray, there was a rumble from below and the water suddenly began to flow again.
"Air in the pipes maybe?" Yuri said. "Come on Koudelka, let's go."
Koudelka hesitated, but then nodded and turned toward the exit, but O'Flaherty suddenly rose, calling to them.
"Wait! Just a moment, please," he dusted off his trousers and long jacket, straightening his crucifix. "Although I am under the protection of Our Lord, it – it doesn't hurt to take precautionary measures," he said and his voice was that of a man granting a favor. "I think I'll go with you," he said.
Yuri's quick breath sounded more like a hiss as he lifted the pipe in his hand, threatening the older man. "And what the hell makes you think we want you along, priest?" he snarled.
Koudelka sighed, before opening the door to the herbarium. "Fine, I don't care either way," she said, hoping she hadn't just made a mistake.
They retraced their steps back to the staircase, passing he shattered remains of Koudelka's and Yuri's earlier encounter and climbing to the second floor. They took the short hallway to their right and through another door and into a small storage room filled with junk – Yuri kicking at boxes and turning others over to look within; Koudelka only paused a moment to watch with a rueful grin and a shake of her head before leaving, causing Yuri to scramble behind her. The next room was exposed to the outdoors, the roof missing, and the far walls crumbling down and broken. Cold winter wind blew through the room and, in one corner a lean-too had been built by some wandering visitor. It had been ransacked and the remains strewn throughout the room, the wind blowing the lighter pieces into the corners; but Yuri was quick to scour through the remains, then with a snort follow the others as they passed through this room too and took the far door, through yet another small storage room.
"Man these folks sure collect a lot of junk," Yuri said, kicking debris from his path as he followed Koudelka into a long dark hallway. The corridor passed over the main gates and, though there were torches on either side of the hallway, two and two, their flickering smoky light did little to illumine the darkness. Windows were evenly spaced in the stone walls and Yuri stopped to look out the right hand side and stare into the foggy night.
"Hey, these look outside the monastery," he observed and then realized the others had not stopped. Trotting, he caught up to them at the end of the hallway where James had stopped, and was looking out a window toward the inner courtyard, his expression a mixture of confusion and disgust.
"Such a dark and depressing place," he said softly. "Even with the church, I cannot feel the presence of the Lord's light."
Koudelka, standing next to him, shook her head, her laughter bitter. "There is no power of light here, James. No carpenter's son to do away with these evil spirits," she said and her voice dripped sarcasm. Something about James bothered her; not just that he was a priest with sanctimonious airs, but that he was hiding something. For that matter, that young Yuri was hiding something too; she wondered if she would be better off without either of them.
"Blasphemer!" James shouted, startling Koudelka and he turned on her and Yuri, his eyes suddenly alight with passion. "Pagans! How dare you..."
"Ah shut up priest, give it a rest," Yuri interrupted. "What did getting angry over religion ever get you but hungry at the end of the day."
James, turned toward Yuri with a retort on his lips, but was quickly silenced as the hallway suddenly rung with gunshots. Koudelka and James ducked down, but Yuri stood looking out the window at the fog-shrouded inner grounds of the monastery. To his right a building with barred windows caught the light from the moon, while the caretaker's quarters were below on the left; more buildings dotted the monastery grounds and Yuri caught the glow of moon-kissed statues near the church. Across from their window was the bulk of the old church, its tall steeple and bell-tower reaching up like an accusing finger to the roiling heavens. Dark clouds scudded across the full moon and Yuri scanned the area by the meager light for the shooter.
"Who the hell's shooting at us?" he snarled.
Koudelka reached up, grabbed his hand and pulled, forcing him to kneel down.
"You'll lose your head, fool!"
"Ah, it's probably those stupid caretakers," he said, kneeling next to window and still straining to see out. "The poison didn't work so now they use bullets; typical."
"Don't be ridiculous," James said, indignant. "Those kind, generous –"
"Humph," Yuri snorted. "Ask the bullet who's being ridiculous."
"Stop it, you idiots!" Koudelka hissed loudly and then turned to crawl away from the windows in disgust. Once away she stood and ran through the far door, Yuri and James right behind her. That door lead to an upper floor that had been converted into a prison, the brick, stone and mortar walls crumbling and dingy with centuries of dirt and filth. Yuri took the lead, pushing past James and walking down the corridor, his eyes scanning ahead for danger. He spotted a grey door to his left and pointed it out.
"Maybe you and James can check out what's in there? I can go on the rest of the way..." he said to Koudelka, pointing to where the corridor made a sharp turn.
"Look," James suddenly said from behind him, his own hand pointing at something at the far end. Yuri looked up to see a small child, maybe ten years old, standing at the end of the corridor. She wore an old-fashioned pink satin dress with lace at cuff and collar; she held an old china doll in one hand, and her hair was long and silvery blonde, and reminded Yuri of someone, someone important. The child stared intently at him for a minute before moving silently away.
'What the - ?' Curious, Yuri followed, catching up to her at the bend in the corridor and nearly walking off the end of the broken floor.
"Wait!" James said behind him and Yuri suddenly stopped, his next step going into mid-air.
"Whoa!"
The little girl was floating in the air in front of him; she turned to stare at him again and her eyes flashed a silver-purple color that made Yuri's hackles rise.
"You should have died, boy," the girl said, her voice childlike but full of malice. "I wanted you to lie down and die." She giggled, a hollow sound that continued to echo even as she faded through the opposite wall.
"A ghost?" James asked.
"Yeah," Yuri answered, shaken.
The two men turned back up the corridor and joined Koudelka. She had gone through the grey door and was looking around when they entered.
"Holy fucking shit!" Yuri exclaimed at sight of the room. "Somebody needs a good clean up crew."
"Holy Mother of God, preserve us," James whispered.
The room was piled high with corpses: hacked up, broken, rotting, and mummified, with parts of skeletons dotting the remains. Blood had oozed out onto the filthy floor and dried, staining the already grimy floor a rust color and the stench was that of a carnal pit. Yuri sniffed and James covered his mouth and nose.
"Nice place for a first date," Yuri said with a chuckle. He spotted Koudelka across the room looking at a small chest. She was kneeling by the it, her long fingers working a dial on the front.
"Say, what did ya find?" he asked, joining her.
Koudelka stood with a stretch and a sigh. "It's locked; probably nothing of importance anyway," and her shrug hid a tone of disappointment.
Yuri looked down at the small wooden chest and smirked. He brought one boot down on the lock box, smashing the sold lid, the lock, and cracking the box itself.
Koudelka looked up at him then down at the box.
"A master of persuasion aren't you," she muttered and knelt again, flicking aside bits of the lid to reach the box contents; it held a set of clothes, old and rotten, an old rusty knife and a brown book was set on top. Its leaves were of thick hand-made paper, the edges at one time silvered, but now dingy with age. She opened it and glanced through the first page.
"Here James, read of this place. It's a journal from a guard who worked here," Koudelka said and handed James the book, then rose, dusting her hands before pushing open another door to the chamber beyond. The room was once a bedchamber and a prison for whomever had stayed here. A small clothing press and dresser were on one side and an armoire on the other; straight ahead was a large bed, soft with feather stuffed mattresses and dusty with age. The walls were covered in portraits – all the same young woman: tall, willowy, long flowing red hair, fair features. Whoever she had been, she was lovely to behold. As they entered, James flicked his fingers through an old lace dress hanging haphazardly from the clothes press.
"My goodness, this place is full of dead things; bodies and skeletons and their belongings," James said quietly.
Yuri following closely on Koudelka's heels looked up at the portraits, his eyes scanning the visages for some clue to why they were there, while Koudelka approached the dusty bed.
"It's full of ghosts and spirits," she said, suddenly finding herself short of breath. "I can feel them," she said and then moaned, quickly sitting on the dusty bed, clutching her arms to her breast as if in pain. Yuri glanced at Koudelka and rushed to kneel at her feet, offering his hand to steady her.
"You all right, Koudelka? I –" he looked around the room at the portraits. "I've got a bad feeling about this place," he finally said.
Koudelka shook her head, refusing to take Yuri's offered hand, instead burying her face in her hands.
"This must have happened a long time ago; the power is so strong... I – I think I can channel some of these spirits. Maybe I can find out what happened here," she said, her voice muffled.
"Channel the spirits? You mean let them take you over?" Yuri asked.
"Shame on you!" James suddenly said from his side of the room. "You should be praying for them, not performing some black magic," he said with distaste. Koudelka ignored him.
"The spirits floating in this room ... I can let them possess my body so they can speak. The reason I came here is that I heard the cry of one particular female voice. If she –"
James snorted in disgust. "Enough of this!" he shouted, crossing the room quickly, reaching down to take Koudelka's arm. "I will not stand for this devilment! Not only do you not believe in God, but now you wish to disturb the spirits and commune with demons!"
Yuri rose quickly and stared at the elder priest, and his lips snarling. "Remove your hand, priest," he said, flicking aside James' hand before he could touch Koudelka. "And I'd be careful who you call demon, priest. You saved my neck out there," Yuri said indicating the outer corridor, "but that doesn't mean I won't put my fist through yer ugly, lying face. Shut up and let her work!" Yuri finished and his eyes had narrowed and shifted from their usual dark brown to amber, a flecking of crimson showing in the dimly lit room.
Meanwhile Koudelka had taken a deep breath and was concentrating, ignoring James' protests. She had her eyes screwed shut, her long fingered hands floating a breath away from her face, her breathing slowing. Suddenly she made a deep-throated sound that had Yuri's hackles standing.
"Chains," she moaned. "Chains and darkness. Death – oh, oh no... there were – there were so many of them in here..." Koudelka said, her breathing becoming erratic.
"What's going on? Koudelka?" Yuri said from beside her. He knew she was channeling the spirits, but had never seen it this intense before; not even when… he blinked, the name forgotten.
"They were imprisoned and tortured," Koudelka said after a moment, "thousands of them." Suddenly she lunged to her feet, knocking Yuri back in surprise. She turned sightless eyes onto James, her hand raised, finger pointing accusatively and spoke again, her voice reduced to a gravely snarl with a hint of an echo from beyond.
"Kill them! They cut off my fingers; they crushed my legs, smashed my head and cut out my guts!" she screamed at him. "They took everything from me, and they locked me up, and chopped my body...!" James stepped back, appalled and Koudelka screamed again, her voice suddenly ululating in a female timbre.
"My eyes! My ears! They're burned, oh god, oh help – help!"
Koudelka stepped back, tripping over Yuri and fell onto the bed before rolling again onto the floor, her body quivering with reaction. Yuri scrambled to her side and pulled her into his arms, holding her until her shivers subsided.
"How – how horrible," she whispered, her breath slowly returning to normal. "This place used to be a prison. For... for hundreds of years - kept in secret. Whoever went against the authorities or misconducted themselves in any way, were locked up here and – killed."
James frowned and moved to kneel down beside her but Koudelka suddenly sat up, her body rigid, and her eyes open and staring at the priest.
"No! Don't touch me!" she yelled and was instantly on her feet, pushing James back to the door, her eyes murderous. "You!" she growled, her voice suddenly dark and hollowly masculine. "Piss off! Go to hell!"
"Koudelka!" Yuri called and grabbed her from behind even as she was raising her hands to put them around James' throat. "Koudelka, come back to me," he said, and the young woman just as suddenly collapsed into his grasp, then slid to the floor, sobbing.
Shaken, James slid down the wall and watched as Yuri comforted the sobbing girl, the journal she had given him still gripped in his hand. Suddenly and inanely curious, he opened the dusty book and began to read.
Across the room, Yuri helped Koudelka to her feet and put her on the bed, holding one of her hands. He spoke softly to her, telling her it was fine, everything was all right; when he looked up into her dark eyes he was surprised for a moment that they weren't blue, but then shook it off.
"Oh, my Lord," they heard James mutter from near the door and Koudelka looked up at him. He was reading the journal, his usually self-absorbed expression altered to that of horror and compassion.
"What does it say, James?" she asked softly, her expression slowly coming back to normal, but her eyes still holding a touch of the horror she had seen and felt.
"This – this is terrible. This diary is written by a guard who came here in 1716. He had been a guard at Newgate before coming here. Sweet Lord, I can hardly believe this really happened. He says the guards tortured and maimed the prisoners on purpose, their - their intent to deliver only pain and suffering. Sweet Jesus," he paused and closed his eyes, a look of pain crossing his usually taciturn features. "The prisoners were here in their thousands, and of those numbered, at least 8000 had been killed within these walls – countless unnamed were tortured and killed as well. The guards were uncaring and ungodly in their efficient means of torture," James said, his usually controlled voice touched with compassion and a hollow sense of despair.
"And were they all murderers and thieves, James?" Yuri asked.
"Woman and children; husbands, wives..." James' voice slipped into silence.
"Don't tell me all these bodies here are the prisoners, James," Yuri said.
James shook his head, "No. There was a break-in, a revolt; those prisoners yet alive turned on their tormentors and ... delivered God's own justice." He crossed himself and tossed the book aside. "God have mercy on their souls," he said and clasped his hands in prayer.
"But – but not all of these were prisoners," Yuri said quietly, remembering the fresh blood and putrescent bodies amongst the old and moldering dead. Koudelka, wrapped safely in Yuri's arms, heaved a heavy sigh, and lingered for a moment before pushing away and climbing to her feet.
"Let's go," she said.
James stood up at the door and pulled it open, stepping through with Koudelka right behind him.
"All right," Yuri said, getting up from the bed and following, but stopped at the armoire next to the door. Without thinking about it, he pulled open the doors and was suddenly face to face with a tall, lithe female corpse, her body dried and withered to that of a mummy, her hair faded yet still with a strand or two of its once vibrant red, and dressed in a faded and tattered wedding dress – the same one in the portraits over the door.
"Shit!" he cried just as the mummy attacked him.
The dead bride climbed from the armoire and took several delicate steps toward him, her lithesome figure still beautiful even if she was a corpse. Yuri watched her closely, hearing Koudelka and James coming back in behind him and James beginning to mutter a prayer. Koudelka was concentrating and Yuri could feel her gathering magical energies into her hands and that meant he had to act to distract the mummy.
He jumped forward, using the pipe, and slammed it into the mummy's head, first one way then another, pulling off hair and bits of dried flesh with the impact. The mummy cried out, her voice like that of a woman in pain, and repaid him with a slap across his own face just as he moved back. Her hand was hard bones and long fingernails grown hard with age and she sliced his cheek with her nails, leaving a trail of blood running down his neck.
James, who had taken the handgun, fired a shot at the mummy before moving back behind Koudelka; she was ready with her spell now and raised her hand up, drawing down fire from the heavens, sending a column of fire at the mummified bride.
Yuri nodded, impressed. He liked her fighting style more and more, wishing he could learn her magical spells, but knowing he had never been very good at magic unless he used his fusions. He moved forward again, this time sending the pipe into the mummy's stomach like a spear, catching on her mummified insides and, twisting the pipe, pulled them out. The creature raised her head proudly, and howled in pain – a scream of power that sent a wave of energy rushing across the room and knocked all three of them to their backsides.
Yuri shook it off first, jumping in front of Koudelka, and giving her time to right herself and summon another spell.
"Come on James; shoot that gun or use magic or something here, eh?" Yuri called and jumped forward again, slashing down with the pipe, snagging the mummy's arm and shattering it at the elbow, sending shards of bone and flesh scattering to the floor like snow.
Again the dead bride retaliated with a slap toward Yuri, but he ducked and slammed the pipe again into her middle, tearing even more at the mummified guts. Behind him James called out a warning and then opened fire, sending five bullets into the mummy's chest, puncturing the delicate décolletage and ruining what must have been a beautiful bust line; Yuri grinned.
"That's how it's done," he said and swept his leg in under the mummy, catching her legs and sending her smashing to the ground just in time for Koudelka's second spell to unleash fiery fury at her. The flames cascaded over her and in a final wail of defiance and fury, the dead bride ignited, burning to a blackened crisp.
"Whew," Yuri said standing and dusting himself off. "That scared the shit outta me."
"Serves you right for opening the cabinet," James said as he reloaded the pistol.
Yuri frowned but then grinned. "Be glad I did – look!" he said and reached into the armoire, removing a rolled up rope ladder.
"You're right," Koudelka said eyeing the ladder. "You are good at scavenging. Let's get out of here."
They took the ladder to the end of the corridor where Yuri had almost fallen. On the crumbled and broken floor, there were two metal clamps that took the ends of the ladder and Yuri hooked them up and tossed the ladder over the side.
"You first James, then Koudelka."
Yuri waited as the two climbed down then swung his own long legs over the edge and slid down the rope, landing with a grunt on the broken stone floor below. He looked around at the dilapidated area, the walls and ceiling crumbling and caved in, the floor so decayed that it looked like they were walking on raw soil and the whole area was so dark Yuri could believe they were underground instead of on the first floor. Sighing, he followed Koudelka down the hall to the left. She was walking through another door when he caught up and her sudden shout of surprise made him rush through the door, the pipe hefted in his hand.
The room was relatively clean, the stone floor cracked and broken but otherwise unblemished. On one wall hung the faded remnants of a red velvet curtain while at the far end was a font, overshadowed by a stained glass window. The figure in the window was that of a man, stripped to only a clout, his body twisted in torment and pain. A placard on the frame said it was a Martyr of the Faith. And in the center of the room stood Koudelka and James, transfixed by the sight of two shades standing at the font, shadowy carbon copies of themselves. The James shade moved off to one corner while the Koudelka clone stepped forward, her arms raised to strike with magic.
Yuri huffed and ran forward to take Koudelka's side and almost instantly, another shadow emerged from the dry font; a dark visage shrouded in even darker shadows. It topped seven feet tall, eyes a deep purple and a set of wings spread out from its back, leathery black and tipped with sharp razor claws. On one arm a razor of bone was extended, its edge tinged with blood and claws curled from its fingers like iron nails.
"Ah fuck," Yuri exclaimed. "Not Amon." He hefted the pipe in his hand and looked at his two companions. There was no way either of them could handle the Lord of Dead Souls; that left him alone. James to his far right exclaimed in surprise at the huge demon, looking from it to Yuri and back.
"What shadow is this?" he asked and crossed himself, while Koudelka looked wide-eyed at the manifestation from hell.
"Um, you let me handle him, okay?" he said and offered Koudelka a lopsided grin. "It'll be fine. I – I know him pretty well."
"You know him?" Koudelka's voice dripped sarcasm.
"Look, you just take on those other two and I'll deal with Amon, okay?" Yuri said and tossed down the useless pipe. "Trust me, that's all I ask," he said and reached within for a fusion.
Mentally he quickly reviewed his fusions; when he had first fought against Amon in Nemeton, he had used Sandalphon. But at that time, Amon had a Soul Contract with the warlock Albert Simon and was both strengthened by Simon and weakened by him. Additionally Yuri had companions who fought at his side and it was all three of them who had, ultimately, defeated the monster. But if this was a shadow of Amon as he was now, his own fusion soul, Yuri wondered if Sandalphon would be enough. He'd need something to fend off Amon's attacks and have the physical clout. With a sigh, he admitted to himself that only one other fusion could resist Amon and he wasn't going to use Seraphic Radiance. Grinding his teeth, he pulled the fusion from his soul and melded with it.
A blinding flash of darkness washed over the room and then Amon stepped out of the shadows and faced ... himself. Behind him, he heard both Koudelka's startled retort and James' shouted exhortation. But he could not concentrate on them right now; before him stood his mirror image, a massive demon of hellish proportions and he had to take it down before it could decimate the party.
With a roar, the shadow Amon leapt forward, its huge razor arm slashing down at Yuri. Yuri grabbed the arm and spun "Amon" away, slamming it against the velvet draped wall. The wall beneath him crumbled to dust, leaving a gaping hole; but the shadow climbed back onto his clawed feet and, with a flick of his wings, arced toward the ceiling, then dove down toward Yuri, his body ready to rip and rend but his eyes curiously vacant. Behind him, Yuri heard Koudelka intone the flare spell and James repeatedly shot at... himself – his own mirror image sending magical attacks at the remaining two. For a brief moment, Yuri wondered when James would use the magic that Koudelka had taught him, but then turned his concentration back to "Amon". The mirror fusion was inches away from ramming his huge razor into Yuri's face. Yuri moved away, letting the other fusion save himself from smashing into the paves while he summoned his own magic. Pulling the darkness around him with a wave of his arms, Yuri drew the power into his hands and then sent a lance of pulsing energy at "Amon", the lance cutting through the fusion's body and sending shadowy ichor splattering over the stone floor.
Behind him, Yuri heard Koudelka's scream of pain and he turned to see her collapse on the floor, blood congealing beneath her, the tell tale signs of fire magic showed in the smoke rising from her. Growling, he gathered another shroud of dark energy, this time sending it toward the woman and encasing her in its embrace. A moment later the energy formed a hard shell that cracked and burst and Koudelka, a bit shaken, rose from the floor completely healed. She turned grateful if frightened eyes onto Yuri and nodded before turning back to her own mirror image.
Meanwhile James had finally gotten near his own shadow and was firing bullet after bullet into it to no avail. Finally, out of ammunition, he threw the gun down in frustration and, crossing himself, began to summon magic. If he could have, Yuri would have smiled, as it was, "Amon" caught him with his back turned. The massive shadow had summoned his own magic and sent a lance of energy crackling into Yuri. It hit him like a nova, slamming him into the dry font, cracking the stonework and bathing it with his steaming black blood. But shaking his head Yuri came to his feet and, with one downward stroke of his wings, he was across the room, face to face with the shadow, pummeling and pounding and gouging his mirror image until "Amon" raised his arm to bring down the razor onto Yuri's head. But Yuri grabbed the arm, swinging it around and, capturing it against his own body, snapped it in half, tearing bone and muscle even as he ripped the arm from the mirror's body, then proceeded to use the razor on "Amon", slicing into his black visage, gouging into his armored belly, slicing down and tearing into its armor to eviscerate the shadowy fusion.
With a roar, "Amon" tried to summon magic one final time but before he could do more than provoke a little energy, Yuri was on him, his mouth open, long canines exposed in the candlelight and then clamping down onto "Amon's" neck, piercing the tough hide and ripping out his throat. With a gurgle, the shadow slid out of Yuri's grasp and faded even as it hit the floor. Yuri turned then to see Koudelka summon a flare once more, hitting her own mirror with one final spell as it too struggled to attack; the magic hit the mirror like a hammer and the shadowy body hit the floor in silence only to fade away. And across the room James was putting paid to his own shade, the greeny complexion of the shadow "James" turning dark as it slid to the floor and vanished.
With a sigh, Yuri released his fusion, returning to his human appearance and waiting for the inevitable reaction. It wasn't long in coming as James came at him with a bottle of holy water and splashed it in his face.
"Out demon in the name of our Blessed Lord Jesus!" he shouted.
Yuri wiped the water from his face, removing the flecks of blood from previous battles with it.
"Thanks for the water, James. I don't suppose you have any curative items; my back is killing me where that thing hit me." Yuri looked from the horrified James to Koudelka, standing quietly at the font, and sighed. "Look, I'm not a demon is that's what you think. I'm a fusionist - it's what I am; it's what I do. And I use it to protect people – not kill them."
"So says the devil," James intoned, still looking like he would exorcise Yuri if he could.
Yuri was half-tempted to choke the daylights out of the stupid priest.
"You are more than just an adventurer, Yuri. Why are you here?" Koudelka asked from the font, which now bubbled with water, a clean clear stream of it sliding down the broken bowl of the font and pooling around its base.
"Say, it's running again," Yuri said with a quirky smile and climbed onto the partially broken font and, dipping his hands into the clean water, splashed more onto his face and neck, wiping the rest of the blood off.
"Here," Koudelka said from next to him and Yuri looked up to see a bit of plant in her hand. "It should help the pain of your injury."
"Thanks," Yuri said and popped the small-leaved clipping into his mouth and chewed.
She watched him for a moment, her eyes bright and curious. "You didn't answer my question," she said and she almost hoped he wouldn't, afraid she might hear more than she wanted. Yuri nodded, chewing the last of the plant and swallowing. He ran his hands through his wet and messy hair, pushing it back over his head and revealing a tall forehead and bright eyes.
"It's true, I'm not here seeking my fortune, if that's what you mean," he said. He looked over at James. "Did you ever wonder about all the bodies, priest?" James' frown deepened, one hand coming up to clutch at a small crucifix revealed through the broken buttons of his shirt.
"I am a Bishop, not a priest," he said, "and no, I did not wonder about them. They're all fortune seekers, liars, and thieves anyway. This is still a monastery; this is still God's house – prison or no. Why all those heathens are killed is none of my concern."
"Spoken like a true man of the cloth," Yuri said with a sneer. "Some of them are old; others are not."
"I saw some pretty fresh ones," Koudelka added. "One who was shot, another had been cracked in the head with an axe – some with no visible signs of injury. They must have been poisoned."
"And your point is demon? You are as bad as any of those heathen dead; you have insinuated yourself here and are planning God only knows what evil," James said.
"For the last fuckin' time, priest, I am not a demon!" Yuri cried. "And we've got bigger problems than just your bigoted hatred for anything that doesn't fit into your picture of the universe."
"Yuri," Koudelka interrupted, "why are you here?" she asked again. "I found you upstairs - did you kill Edward?"
Yuri shook his head. "No, I told you; that monster killed him. That was a mistake. He's not supposed to be ..." Yuri stopped, suddenly realizing what he was about to say, and then shook his head. "This is just too confusing. I – I need to fix something I messed up. I'll stay here and protect you, both of you, until I can fix what I did wrong."
"What did you do wrong?" Koudelka asked, but then shook her head, running her hand through her hair to loosen a few tangles.
"No, no; I'm sorry. That's not my business. If you tell me you're here to help, then I'll just believe you... for now. But—"
"And?"
Koudelka sighed. "I've never met a demon I could trust," she said softly.
Yuri felt his heart sink. 'She thinks of me as...' "You can trust me. I'll protect you," he said and for a moment, the words echoed in his mind bringing a memory of a moonlit night in China, a pretty blonde... He blinked, wondering where he had been for a moment, and feeling the room shift around him; he felt dizzy then shook it off with an idiotic grin. "Man, all this talking is makin' me hungry," he said.
Koudelka looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "How can you by hungry at a time like this? And you already ate!" she said with exasperation.
Yuri rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, an' I spewed it up in the kitchen. And I always get hungry after a workout; especially when I fuse."
Koudelka snorted and pulled a piece of bread from her pouch. "Here, bottomless pit."
With a grin, Yuri took the bread and popped it into his mouth, chewing happily.
James had moved away, wandering around the room, checking the small altar, and Koudelka crossed to a door opposite the font, pushing it open to reveal yet another storage room. It was small, dark and piled high on three sides with crates and miscellaneous stuff, while the other wall, an outer wall, had two small slits for windows. After washing the bread down with another handful of water from the font, Yuri joined Koudelka, approaching the near window and looking outside; the night was still cloudy and through the open window slit, the cold wind was rushing through, bringing the smell of ocean salt and the nip of winter. With a sigh he turned to watch Koudelka.
'More junk,' Yuri thought as Koudelka search the rubbish. After a few minutes, James finished his investigation and joined them in the storage room.
"Koudelka, find anything?" James asked, as if nothing had happened.
"No, nothing..." Koudelka said from her squat near a trunk. She started to stand as James approached when there was an unexpected shiver in the old floor, followed by a loud cracking sound. Suddenly the floor splintered and Yuri, James, and Koudelka found themselves falling.