The Damocles Solution 24
The three men ran out of the hole leading up to ground level.
"Hey, Sureshot! You stay behind her no matter how she faces and get a good zap into that crazy cane thing. We'll do the job of distracting her until she lets her guard down!"
"Right!"
"Where is she?" yelled Peter to Ray, both of them huffing heavily from the run.
"A short distance aways…closer to the back of the mansion!"
Making their way to where Aracelli had slithered off, Ray had turned off and belted the PKE meter, as he was aware that at any moment it could explode should Jormunger crystallize its presence again once Aracelli stopped travelling.
"There!" yelled Ray, pointing to Aracelli. He and Peter fell to the right, at her front, and Winston crouched behind shrubbery, readying his single shot. At all times now, he was keeping his weapon cocked and ready for the smallest opening available to destroy the cane that Aracelli had wrapped protectively in her tail.
They found the serpentine elderly woman once again chanting ancient words, looking stronger and even more demonic than her servants and assisstant now, with bands of watery energy swirling around her. The humidity hung heavily in the air simply from the atmosphere her present form drew to her, and her long tail trailed behind her, sirring up the misty air. A blue, swirling globe forming in her outstretched, heavily clawed hands, and Jormunger's firey-water form circled in the air above her, sounding like the rushing waves of a waterfall.
"Hey! Eat THIS!" yelled Peter to her, blasting away while he ran. Ray, aside him also fired up and send a beam hurtling toward her.
In a second's time away from the beams hitting her, Aracelli threw up her shield again, and the beams crackled loudly before dissipating into a shower of sparks.
"Your interference annoyssssss me!" she hissed.
Her shield disappeared, and she raised her clawed hands. Soon enough, the globe she was holding became a translucent blue serpent-themed bow appeared in one hand, and she was drawing a serpentine-shaped arrow in the other. Tensing the bowstring a little more, she let its weapon fly in the air, heading straight for Peter.
He dodged to the side, and the arrow flew an inch away from his cheek. While it flew by, he felt a light spray on his face, and, terrified that he might have been shot, fell to the ground. He patted his face desperately, and looked at the results on his hand
He sighed deeply seeing there was no red liquid on his hand, then did a doubletake. "Sheesh..it's only water. What could be so bad abou—"
He was cut off by a crushing sound in the distance, and he spun around where he sat. Sure enough, one of the larger decorative trees around the garden had been cleanly cut in half.
Peter's eyes went wide, and he got up, ready to dodge another watery arrow. "Ok! Ok! I get it! Today's science lesson is: water at high pressure is deadly too!"
She shifted her free hand, nocked another weapon. At the last moment, turned and shot it toward Ray. As he was just behind another decorative tree, he fired at the tree at his side, and it fell over, absorbing the shot from the watery missle, but also getting cut in half in the process, and showering him in a rain of splinters and broken limbs.
Peter fired up, and hurled a proton beam at the serpent lady. It hit, but was so quickly absorbed, she didn't even flinch. Receiving a new awareness of the power the increased channeling brought her, she looked stunned for a moment, then leaned back…and laughed.
"Seems I do not need my silly little shield anymore!" she said, slowly approaching the two of them. "I have my Master tot hank for this!"
The bow in her hands shimmered, and reformed into a great, translucent, intricately carved blue trident, a serpentine charm hanging from the chain at its handle end.
"I tire greatly of your interference. I shall settle this now, and be on my to ascend the throne I so deserve!"
"Peter!" yelled Ray, running behind the toppled tree over to where the psychologist stood.
"Ray, this is trouble. This is BIG trouble."
Aracelli drew back the trident, and swung it mightily around again toward where Ray ran. He had to flatten himself on the ground, as the scythe-like sheet of water passed over him, and struck hard into the side of the mansion behind him, causing the stone on it to smoke, as if struck with dynamite.
Getting back up to his feet in an instant, he finished the run over to Peter.
Peter ground his teeth in frustration. "What are we gonna do? Our beams are useless against that thing, no thanks to that stupid flying snakeskin belt in the sky!"
He made a move forward, and Ray's eyes went wide in horror. He flung himself at Peter before he could take another step, and tackled him.
"What did ya do THAT for?" yelled the psychologist as they recovered, hurriedly untangling themselves.
"I wanted you to watch your step!" Ray pointed down to the ground. There, still zapping and sparking, was the phone line they had previously cut, and Peter flinched back hard when he thought of what could have happened had he stepped on the live end of it.
"I have an idea!" said Ray. "We have to back it up a little, and get her over this!" he said, pointing at the wire. "She's channeling a water god, and using water-based attacks! Water won't do anything but help to conduct an immense amount of electricity right into 'er when she least expects it!"
"Sounds good! How do we get her to come here toward it?"
"Well, we…RUN!"
And with that, they turned tail, and raced along the road in the back part of the mansion.
Arcelli hissed in amusement. "I will bring pride to my master. I will take the powers of Fenrir's Flute as my own, and the world will greet its new Queen as sssssoon as I'm done with you!"
She struck the ground near herself with the huge trident, and a watery path began to snake its way on to the macadam, easily keeping pace with the running men.
"Fools think they can run from a hurricane, when they are already in its eye!"
When the path ended a little ways ahead of them, water from it arose from the ground, and curled in the air. It became two whorls, and each one took one running Ghostbuster within it. Peter and Ray each held their breaths as a suffocating vortex of water kept them from moving.
She slowly slithered up the road, towards the the two men, now drowning in the water whorls.
"This is what happens when you interfere with someone who has a connection to a higher power," she said, ending in a wicked hissing cackle.
"And I can still discover the location of Fenrir's altar, even without my staff! Do not think they were my only connection to that information!" She readied the trident. "They were useful, unlike your friend in there that refused to open his mouth! Once he dies for lack of your assisstance, I will be the only left that knows the secrets of Ragnarock!"
She lowered the trident ominously, and the whorls moving both of the men to line them each up with one huge prong of her trident. Peter and Ray, still inside the watery whirls, were turning red from holding their breath, and also struggling uncomfortably.
"And the next one to fall on my list, after he, and you, will be that redheaded lover of his that also refused to cooperate!"
Araelli rushed forward, lightning fast.
Stopped just short of the two of them, she screamed loudly, and the watery trident fell, splashing into the ground as if it had never been solid. After writhing in agony, she fell onto her hands, shaking violently. "What-?"
She rolled once, away from the center of the road. There, she saw gold sparks coming out of a live pole wire, which had been downed, and saw that she had slithered over it.
Shaking from the shock, she fell to her hands…
…and a loud crack! was heard behind her. She felt something cause the tiniest rush of air over her head.
Her face fell to absolute horror when she turned around. There was Winston, who had just fired a single shot, and the top half of the cane was now blown off. Pieces of the red jewel atop it littered the ground, and the serpent head at the top of it was now an indistinguishable mass of melted metal, running down onto her tail. She realized too late that she had unconsciously released it when she was electrocuted.
She gazed, terrified of the sight of the destroyed cane, the top of which was dissipating into steam. Watery ribbons began to channel out of her, and floated up to the sky. Aracelli took a frenzied look at her hands, which were turning more and more typically human by the second. She began screaming in desperate protest the entire time, and the reek of burning flesh penetrated the air.
The water whorls around Peter and Ray dissipated, leaving the two of them stunned, soaked, and coughing hard on the ground.
The rest of Aracelli was also beginning to turn less serpentine and more human as the ribbons of water continued to stream out of her. Soon enough, she was left there, sitting defensively on the ground, looking so much more now like a pitiful, frail, semi-human creature than a powerful sorceress. Winston immediately rushed forward, and held her at throwerpoint.
Ray and Peter, after finishing coughing and wheezing in an effort to get some air and clear their lungs, managed to catch up to Winton.
What was left of Dolores Aracelli covered her face with an arm, and held out a disturbingly scaled hand. "Please…please spare me" she cried, cowering. "I am a mother…I am a grandmother! Please! Find it in your hearts to forgive me!"
Winston shifted, ready to shoot. "For what you did to our man and lady in there, we oughta blast you to oblivion. I get sick to my stomach when I think of you in the containment unit, in the same place as they are."
"Have pity on me! You won't have to do it if you have pity! Please! Ple-"
All three opened fire, and soon, she was writhing in the air.
Ray threw out a trap.
Winston's brow furrowed as he watched her. "No trap."
Ray was taken aback for a moment. "Winston?"
Peter also looked over to him, his attention riveted to the dark man by the depth of his anger.
"No trap!" repeated Winston. "She's got the nerve to ask for pity from us now! I'm tellin' ya…what I saw, I think this one belongs in the Netherworld. I'm a religious man, and I know was taught not to judge…but this time, I think I'd rather have a few Divine points deducted from my account than have this thing in the same building as Egon and Janine."
The other two men nodded in approval, and the men now used the trap solely as an additional hand to keep Aracelli's form steady. They found that the force needed to keep her aligned was minimal…she hardly took any effort at all to control, her powers given to her by channeling Jormunger now removed with the destruction of her cane.
With a final, pathetically long and drawn out "PLEASE! Have pity!" Winston fired two more shots, and with an agonized scream, she seemed to burst apart, leaving only a swirling cloud of superheated steam in her wake.
An incredible insult to my name, complained Jormunger, who had stopped mid-air to closely watch Aracelli's destruction. I dislike being made a fool by those who seek out my powers and are unable to overcome the smallest of challenges.
The twisting ribbon of firey water in the air dissipated, and Jormunger was gone also, taking along the sound of heavily rushing water it made.
Peter cocked a grin. "Gee, gods don't like it when their little gophers get one-upped, huh?"
Winston turned and ran toward the front of the building. "We gotta get to Egon and Janine, guys. He looked like he was on his last leg through the scope of what I saw of 'im." All three of them headed back toward the underground chamber.
Janine sobbed quietly aside what was left of Egon's tortured unconscious body. Soon enough, she heard sets of footsteps quickly coming toward her.
They were here.
She suddenly felt someone very near her, and looked up into Peter's confident, smiling face as he went down on one knee in front of her.
They won.
Of course, we won! the look on his face said.
They're the Ghostbusters.
They're here to believe you…and they always get what they're after.
They…
…always…
Peter, cocky with the victory they just had, reached up, and fluffed his fingers through her red hair. "Hey," he whispered. "Nobody's dying on Venkman's shift. We'll get him some help right away."
Somehow, she smiled. He made her smile, even now. This was probably one of the few times in his life that Dr. Peter Venkman could ever be accused of having a glowing face. Of seeming almost like an avenging angel. A deliverer. The best older-brother-like jackass a girl could ever ask for.
They locked eyes for a few seconds, and, after he gave her a cool wink, immediately got back on his feet, and made it over to where Ray and Winston were examining Egon, making careful distinction over how much a medical center could help…and how much one couldn't.
She gazed in turn at each of her three heroes, Ray's and Winston's faces darkening with worry over their friend. They were all delivering angels. They always set…things…right…
The moment Peter turned away from her, she had yet another agonizing moment to herself, and everything was darkened again. She couldn't stop Egon's last words from thundering through her mind.
"…I will not…acknowledge your… acquaintance should we…meet. I unequivocally… refuse to speak to you…anymore about this issue, or anything else ever again..."
Watching the four of them, she heard her name being called from near her, and Slimer's yellow eyes appeared, and blinked from where he was hiding behind one of the columns in the chamber.
"Slimer…" whispered Janine softly, as the little green ghost floated over to her.
Slimer babbled, and she could make out the words "Janine safe". She smiled.
The ghost took one of her hands, and gave it a most gentlemanly, not-slimy kiss on the back of it.
"Oh, Slimer!" Janine cried, grabbing the little ghost into a hug. "Where did you learn that? Thank you so much!"
Slimer hugged her back, and Janine went back to wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe, as Winston and Ray were about to pick up Egon's body to take to the Ecto-1.
The air seemed to cling to her, its cold dampness exacerbating her new-found desolate isolation. As much as she was thrilled to see the boys reunited, and have Slimer's greeting, it was all half-hearted.
All she could think of was…no more firehouse, no more Slimer, no more Ray or Winston…or even, she had to admit, Dr. Venkman.
And no more E—
-and…no more…Dr. Spengler.
She didn't have the heart to tell anyone, especially the little ghost, she had not just been fired…but also sent away.
That will come later.
But the priority always was…to stop being a child, and move on.
Ray and Winston went down so fast next to Egon, they slid on the earthy ground into a kneel over his body, Janine backing further away so they had room to move.
"A'right," said Winston, "what do we got here?"
Ray felt the skin on the tall physicist's pallid forehead, and over his flushed cheeks. He couldn't stop saying "wow" softly over and over to himself. He noted Egon's missing eyeglasses, and was drawn to cradle his cheek again. He passed a thumb over his blonde eyebrows, which were turned ever so slightly up in their inner corners. "He must have been here for days. He's so hot..." With a tear in his eye, he struggled against breaking down.
Winston spread open the jacket, vest, and shirt around Egon's body, and his eyes went wide open with what he saw. "Ripped apart, like he was wrestlin' a grizzly or somethin'. And he's got some potentially broken ribs on the right side." He put a dark hand on his chest, and pulled it off for a moment in shocked reaction to the temperature of his skin. "Yeah, it's like he's on fire." He tucked the other hand under his sweat-drenched head. As he put an ear next to his mouth, causing Ray to pull his hands away, he gently rolled his head back, and a faint, hot breath of air escaped from his fevered, slightly parted lips. "He's hangin' in there, but his breathin's really shallow," he observed, continuing to listen.
"Wait," said Ray, "What's with his sleeve here?"
Ray saw the sleeve that had previously been torn by the living, serpent binds that held the physicist to the ground for over an entire day. Spreading the halves apart, Ray saw his deeply black-and-blue wrist, and turned it over to the palm side to follow the bloody tracks circling it like a bracelet to their source.
"Potential broken wrist, too…and what's this? Two puncture wounds. And green tracks leading up." He tore the jacket and shirt a bit further up. "Way up," he said, gliding his hand further and further along the green-streaked muscles of his claw mark-covered arm. "They probably go all the way up past the shoulder."
Winston ever-so-cautiously picked up Egon's head enough to enable him to slide away the clothes on his right shoudler down a bit. There, on the solid muscles of his shoulder and chest, and spidering up to his lower neck, were more dark tracks. "Yeah…they're here, too."
Peter threw himself down to his knees next to the two of them, also. "What's goin' on?"
"It's bad, Peter. Really bad." Ray sniffed, gritting his teeth to fight back the fear and anger over what he saw, desperately trying to keep his cool. "I—I can go in Ecto-2 and guide you to a medical center."
W nodded gravely. "Yeah." He paused, not wanting to say the words in his mouth, but finding it necessary. "But…you think a hospital can fix this?"
Ray struggled. He had to be strong. "They can stabilize him and give him pain and sleep meds," he said, softly stroking Egon's disheveled, wet hair, which, instead of curling up neatly like it usually did, threatened to cover an eye. "But I'm sure these wrist wounds and tracks are more than just physical, so a hospital won't help him much, the same way it didn't help us when we got covered in that ectoplasmic-laced chemical. He might have to do most of his recovery at the firehouse where we have more tools to deal with that, or at least keep it in check if all we can do is wait."
Peter also took a quick look at what Egon's layers of business attire was concealing, and flashed angry eyes at Winston. "Good call, my man." He said, to which Winston bit his lip and nodded in anger.
The psychologist sighed heavily. "Well, thanks for blowing my 'god' complex right out of its nice little bubble, Spengs," Peter angrily said, more to himself than to anyone else. He snapped his head to the men. "Someone'll have to hold 'im steady after we pack 'im up in Ecto-1," said Peter, getting up and running toward the car. "I'm driving that thing like a bat outta hell until we get somewhere useful!"