Chapter 19
Infection
'Holy crap, would you look at that… If this isn't the perfect spot to put our skateboards to good use, I don't know what is, Darby!'
Cora was going to be completely honest here; she was pleasantly surprised to find a place to try brushing off the rust from her skateboarding skills, secretly wondering if she would be able to impress Darby to some degree. Hooking her fingers into the holes of the braided, iron fence that was decorated with blotches of deep brown rust and the bottom braided with sickly green weeds that hadn't been picked for God knows how long, she couldn't keep her eyes off the sight in front of her, like a small kid who couldn't possibly look away from some new, shiny, marvelous toy which most likely possessed a price tag that would give many parents a near-fatal heart attack that had been put on display near the front window of a toy store. Most people weren't seeing what she was seeing, finding this a place that should be avoided at all costs just by the mere sight of the grunge and filth that had accumulated over the span of many years, and the several scribbles that were supposed to be tags and faded, cartoony designs that once had much brighter colors, all of them created by thrill seekers and vandals who just so happened to carry some spray paint with them when they decided to explore this haunted property, didn't do much to ease the disgust some may feel upon seeing this. But to the likes of Cora Jade and Darby Allin, this was nothing short of perfect. Hell, the fact that it was covered with graffiti made it even more appealing, even the filth that had been caked onto the sides didn't bother them in the slightest.
The young woman who had been re-introduced to the world of ghost hunting and had been officially welcomed into the ghost hunter lifestyle by her traveling companion mere moments ago could already picture it all. She could see herself on her beloved skateboard of which she had sworn to never leave behind again, standing on the edge of the dilapidated pool that had once been filled to the brim with cool, clean water, inviting the guests of the Cedar Hills Motel to cool off and swim around on the hottest of summer days, tilting her skateboard with her right foot so that the front part would be pointing to the sky before she would roll down the wall, ready to perform a flip or two once she would reach the other side, feeling the cold wind on her face and bare legs as she would pick up speed halfway the empty pool. She found herself to be pretty excited for it, because seriously, it would be so damn cool to pull off some moves on their skateboards on this spot… and hey, maybe Darby would be willing to teach her some new moves as well!
The blonde ghost hunter was only a few feet behind her, approaching his traveling companion with his hands tucked away deep in the pockets of his jeans. His van turned out not to be the sole vehicle to be present on the haunted motel's parking lot, since there was also a grey Opel Astra parked not too far away from the main office. Either it belonged to someone who had enough guts (or simply weren't aware of the activities within the haunted rooms) to spend a night in one of the rooms of Cedar Hills that weren't occupied by criminals, prostitutes or junkies, but still risk receiving an unwanted visit from one of the many tormented spirits that roamed this place, or the car belonged to one of the motel's 'residents'; Darby didn't bother putting much more effort into speculating about this though, knowing that he should be focusing about more important things… like figuring out the quickest, easiest and safest method to putting whatever ghost that had become pissed off enough to turn into a Mindless (maybe there had been multiple ghosts that had entered the Mindless phase, which wouldn't surprise him if this were true) to rest before they too would be added to the kill count. His footsteps echoed through the deserted parking lot as he walked towards Cora, having his interest instantly peaked when he heard her mentioning a good spot to roll around on their skateboards. She did mention that she had brought her own skateboard upon leaving her mother's place during their ride to the Cedar Hills Motel, and Darby wasn't going to lie about it; he was actually curious about Cora's skateboarding skills, and he did wonder if they had gone rusty overtime like she had claimed the other night… he would gladly help her to get better at it, if needed.
'Let me take a look…' Darby muttered before laying eyes upon the potential, private skate ground. Almost immediately, his eyes slightly widened in surprise and he let out a short, approving hum. 'Well, shit… not bad. Not bad at all.' he said, finding the emptied pool that was entirely decorated with old graffiti and filth just as aesthetically pleasing as his traveling companion did, also finding himself eager to put his skateboard to use.
'I know, right?' Cora asked before turning her head to look at the blonde ghost hunter, curling her lips into a playful smile. 'I hope you still remember what you told me that night near the campfire. Something about a… um… oh, you know… a future skate session?'
The blonde ghost hunter couldn't help but softly chuckle about this. 'Yeah, I did promise you, didn't I? Not gonna lie, this does look like a good spot. Too bad there aren't any railings though, but hell, it will do. And we will probably have to clean the wheels of our boards afterwards.'
'No doubt about that. We could do it after the mission, if we still feel up for it.'
'You will feel up for anything when you still got a shitload of adrenaline still rushing through your body after the job is done. Trust me, I speak from experience.'
'So… you're saying you still have enough energy for skateboarding on the same night after you're done ghost hunting?' the ghost huntress chuckled. 'Now why doesn't that surprise me? Don't get me wrong, though! It is actually pretty befitting of you.'
'What can I say?' Darby replied, shrugging his shoulders. 'It's a good way of riding out the last bits of adrenaline before I go catch some z's.'
'Maybe that could work for me as well… one way to find out about that, no?'
At that moment, they both fell silent and turned their heads, staring into the direction of the motel. The somewhat absurd thought of this place almost being like a rundown, abandoned, ancient fortress crawling with what could be countless restless ghosts of which some had grown frustrated enough to take out their ire on innocent travelers and whoever else was staying here crossed Cora's mind, its walls and rooms containing the desperate wailing, shouting and sobbing of those who were prevented from moving onto the afterlife by their own doing, keeping them away from the outside world. Right on that moment, a freezing gust of wind that would chill anyone to the very bone rolled over the parking lot and struck the ghost hunting duo, causing every single hair on their arms and legs to stand up straight, and they both knew damn well this wasn't because tonight just so happened to be a particularly chilly summer night; sensing a drop in temperature as dramatic as this one was exactly what Darby could have expected from a severely haunted place like the Cedar Hills Motel. With a place that had so many ghosts roaming the property, it wouldn't surprise him if one (or multiple of them) had grown frustrated enough to enter the Mindless phase… one way or another, he was going to end all of that, and now that Cora had decided to stick around with him, chances were that this was going to be a relatively quick job. Sure, Cora may have been introduced to the ghost hunter life a little while ago, but still, she had strength. She knew how to use her powers. And hey, he wasn't going to lie about it; together, they sure did make one hell of a team.
Seeing that perhaps he may not have any chance whatsoever to fully activate his powers, Darby decided that the perfect chance for that was this very moment. And so his heart ceased to rhythmically beat within his chest, instantly causing the skin on the right side of his face to instantly grow transparent. 'Let's roll.'
A few weeds that had grown through the cracks crunched underneath the blonde ghost hunter's shoes as he headed into the direction of the stairs that would lead them to the upper two floors of the building, but he quickly noticed that Cora wasn't following him, which made him stand still and turn around to ask her if she was going in with him or not, but she was the one who spoke first.
'Shouldn't we maybe go to the main office first?' she asked.
'Why?'
'Well, if someone just happened to be in there and saw us arrive, wouldn't it kind of raise some suspicion if we would just head inside without asking for a key for a room or anything? I'm just saying…'
'Nah… you make a fair point.'
And so they both walked towards the hotel's main office, where there was still light burning, which made the ghost hunting duo automatically assume that someone may have indeed been present to witness their arrival on the parking lot. But when they peeked inside, it appeared that nobody was there, as if whoever had been attending the office had promptly gotten up and left. A white coffee mug half full with what definitely had to be coffee that had gone cold by now that had been left on the desk was thought to be the only sign of life at first, but when Darby took a closer look at it, it hadn't been the only object that was lying on the desk before whoever was damn near desperate enough to work the nightshifts at the Cedar Hills in order to pay their bills had taken off, which did spark the urge for a little bit of investigation. Without saying anything, he smoothly hopped over the counter, using his arm to support himself as he swung his legs over the edge, perfectly landing on both of his feet.
'Darby, what are you doing?' Cora asked in a hushed tone. 'What if somebody is gonna come in and sees you here?'
'Relax, they're not gonna come back anytime soon… hell, it looks like nobody is going back to this place at all.' Darby calmly replied after he had picked up and studied one of the two items that had sparked his interest enough to go exploring, which turned out to be a handwritten note that had been left to motel's owner. It appeared that whoever had been sitting in this office for nights on end, being not only haunted by the unseen apparitions that roamed some of the many rooms and three corridors, but also by the antics of the rather unsavory types that were the motel's 'permanent' residents, be it their used needles being scattered all over corridor floors, the disgusting noises which left nothing to the imagination that would often come from the rooms that the ladies of the night had turned into their workplace, property being damaged by those who couldn't give less than a shit about the costs the motel would have to pay for, or the insanely loud arguments about supposedly stolen drugs or booze amongst the homeless or junkies that often turned to downright violence, finally had enough of all of this, with something clearly having been the final straw; right after he had hastily penned down the line 'Fuck this motel, I'm out of here, you can keep the goddamn money' with a handwriting that could barely be deciphered, the office attendee had promptly left the premises not long before Darby and Cora had arrived, not even bothering to shut off the lights before driving off with screeching tires. A set of keys had been lying next to the note as well, indicating that whoever had promptly quit tonight was absolutely serious about this; a human being can only take this much hauntings and nuisance caused by those who are deemed by many to be the scum of society, as it turned out.
'Yeah… I don't blame you, buddy.' Darby mumbled as he put the note back on the desk. He turned around and swiftly hopped back outside.
'Now where in the hell should we get started?' Cora wondered out loud, her eyes slowly scanning the three floors in front of them, rubbing her hands over her arms in an attempt to warm them up a bit and shield them from the relentless cold. 'I mean, look at this place. Those ghosts could be anywhere, and let's not forget about the one who had been wreaking havoc for a while.'
'We got all night, Cora.' Darby replied. 'We can investigate all the floors for as long as we need. And if whatever Mindless will sense our presence, they sure as hell will come to us.'
'That makes sense. I can't imagine a Mindless not being pissed off enough to attack anything near them with a heartbeat and a body temperature of 36 Celsius.'
'Exactly. In the meanwhile, keep your eyes peeled.'
'Will do, Darby. Will do.'
Cora would instantly come to regret passing on the decision to quickly put on a pair of jeans before they started with this mission, feeling her legs shivering with intense cold as they made their way up to the stairs, coming dangerously close to the kind of cold that could redden her fingers and render them numb. Dear God, it was like several months had inexplicably sped up when they entered the premises and had halted on the moment where winter would arrive, and a rather harsh winter at that. Hell, it had grown so cold that she could see the air they breathed out through their noses appearing as tiny clouds before vanishing in the blink of an eye. It had been hard to see it from a distance, but now that they were here, it became clear how severely haunted the Cedar Hills truly was and how it affected the property in a way that would baffle anyone just by looking at it. Whether it had always been like or the possibility of one or multiple ghosts having permanently shifted into the Mindless phase as recently being the cause of this, she couldn't say, but the paranormal energy that had been lingering at the Cedar Hills Motel for many years had caused a thin layer of ice to form on every kind of structure in the building, be it on the doors, the windowsills, the walls, the mainstays or the railings. The ice may have been incredibly thin, but it was visible nonetheless, glistening in the faint lights that came from some of the lamps that had been installed above them. It had even formed on the floor, forcing them to walk with a rather slow pace unless they wished to slip and hurt themselves.
If only they both knew what, or rather who, had truly caused the chill of the dead that had always been here to be intensified to the point of slowly turning the motel into an icy fortress by their mere presence alone…
There was no way in hell that Cora was going to silently wander away from Darby and go explore these floors on her own, having the feeling that if she would fall behind for even a little bit, she would risk her limbs and hair being grabbed by long, emaciated, deadly pale arms and violently drag her into the freezing darkness to rip her into bloody chunks before she could get any chance to fight back. So that's why she made sure to stay close to her friend (yes, by now she had found it safe to consider Darby Allin as a friend, a good one at that… it was crazy to think that this would have never crossed her mind a mere two days ago) and to not keep her eyes off her surroundings, planning on launching a fireball at whatever would come lunging at them if she needed to. Both she and Darby didn't say anything while they slowly walked over the second floor, too focused on their surroundings and even without saying a word to each other, they could mutually agree that they had to be on their guard. Through almost every window they passed by on this floor, they found several pairs of eyes looking right back at them, some of them human, others reduced to tiny, white, glowing dots, all of them belonging to the tormented souls who were trapped in this place because of the one thing that prevented them from moving on which they all possessed, fully widened and filled with fright. Several of them were trembling all over their bodies or could be heard miserably weeping and sobbing, either out of fear, despair or perhaps both. It was a sight that kind of saddened Cora, really. Several ghosts, some of them Wanderers who could still have a chance of passing onto the afterlife by themselves, others having grown frustrated enough to enter the Restless phase and risk becoming rampaging monsters if they were unable to pull themselves together, huddled together in these small, filthy, outdated rooms as if something out there drove them to hide all together, too afraid to come out. These were all once people, Darby and Cora knew. These spirits had once belonged to people made of flesh and blood and had their own hopes and dreams, only to wind up here thanks to whatever choices they had made in life and meet their end in one of the many rooms in this hotel, one way or another. Just imagine…
And unbeknownst to the two ghost hunters, the motel had gained three extra ghosts to occupy its property only one night ago. The mutilated ghost of a young man who had always wished to travel across the United States before officially entering college nearby his hometown in Arkansas had found shelter in one of the rooms on the third floor that Darby and Cora had yet to explore, his boxers and tank top completely drenched in the blood that had gushed from the deep cuts that had been hacked and slashed into his body, staring through the window and into the night sky outside and quietly sobbing over the future that had been taken away from him all thanks to the foolish decision to rent a room at the Cedar Hills for one night. And as for the two homeless men who had hoped to forget all about their bleak existence by sharing a heavily alcoholic beverage… well, they too had met their end by the blade of a machete not too long after the motel's newest customer had arrived, huddled together in a corner of one the second floor's rooms with slashes all over their bloodied bodies; they had been the only two ghosts who hadn't paid any mind to Darby and Cora, mumbling to each other about how the hell they were going to get their hands on some booze now that they couldn't go outside anymore.
'Oh man, the cold is way worse over here…' Cora said when they finally began exploring the third and final floor, and she was absolutely right about this. The freezing air had become outright unbearable, causing the ice that had grown all around them to be thicker compared to the other two floors. Cora couldn't help but rapidly rub her arms to try gaining more warmth underneath the fabric of her jacket, but unfortunately, it didn't help too much.
'I think I know why that is…' Darby said while they walked past the rooms, literally every single one packed with frightened spirits, one of the newest ones unable to stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks as they laid eyes upon him. 'Look at this, Cora… every room here is full of them. This must be the most haunted floor of the whole damn building. Something definitely has been freaking them out bad enough to come out. But… have you noticed it too by now?'
'Noticed what?'
'Not a single one of them is in the Mindless phase. We have looked into almost every room by now, but all of the ghosts here are Wanderers or Restless. And we're getting closer to the last room. A Mindless who is pissed off enough surely would have sensed us by now and shown up. Unless…'
But just before the blonde ghost hunter could finish pondering about what other possibility there could be there outside of a rampaging Mindless, soft creaking could be heard ahead of them, just a few feet away. That sound came from the door of the room at the very end of the corridor, the one room that had yet to be explored, being slowly and carefully opened, as if whoever was staying there was afraid of waking up their neighbor… or alerting someone. Right after the door had been opened far enough, Darby and Cora saw the arm clad in a long sleeve of what they assumed to be a grown man reaching outside, and it wouldn't have been much of an unsettling sight if that arm didn't have fresh blood trickling down its ghostly pale skin, having soaked into the sleeve that had once been ashy grey. Small drops of crimson rhythmically dripped onto the ice below. Instinctively, both Darby and Cora took a small step back.
'You… You can see us, right?' a voice from inside that room asked, clearly belonging to a man. 'Please come inside, there is something I need to tell you two.'
'No way man, no way.' Cora whispered to Darby with a hushed tone. 'What if this is a trap?'
'If it is, then you know what to do.' Darby calmly replied. 'As long as you can react fast enough, we will be fine. But also… he may know about what's going on here.'
'Please, you can trust me!' the owner of the bloodied arm said, frantically gesturing for them to get closer and unintentionally sending droplets of blood flying while he did so. 'I'm not going to hurt you, I swear. But you need to get in here, now! I'm trying to save your lives here!'
The ghost hunters silently stared at each for a short moment, as if they needed a few seconds to contemplate on this. But as soon as Darby gave her a small nod, Cora decided to trust him on this and followed him, keeping in mind that they did have what it took to fight back if this Wanderer was thinking of deceiving them. It only took them a few steps to get to the open door. It had indeed been a Wanderer who had caught their attention; and judging by his appearance, it became very easy to draw the saddening conclusion of his cause of death. The Wanderer had taken a few steps back once he had seen the motel's newest visitors approaching, now standing in the middle of the room. Somewhere in his forties and donning a grew suit with a navy-blue tie, which was now sticking to his frame due to being completely soaked with bathwater and the sleeves stained with red like some sort of grotesque dip dye effect, that once had a price tag with at least two zeros in it, one could assume that he had been a businessman in life, and a successful one at that. Yet somehow during his career, he must have made a grave mistake when it came to investments or perhaps something else, but either way, it had been bad enough to see not only his bank account, but also his future to go up in smoke. There was no way he could ever live with that shame. A career that was no more, a house that he was about to lose, a family that would be eternally disappointed in him, maybe even resent him… and how could he blame them? He was a failure. He had let them down. He couldn't live with this… not now, not ever. And that's why he had traveled all the way to the Cedar Hills without informing anyone, booked a room, laid down in the bathroom he had filled with water earlier and slashed into his wrists until his veins ran dry. That one moment of clarity had come too late for him, only imagining the worried faces of his wife and his two kids upon wondering where he could be at when he was drifting off. And it was that remorse that forced his spirit to roam the premises, his clothing never to be dried and his wrists ever leaking.
'Listen to me… you two need to leave, right now.' Suit said, and though he tried to keep his voice low, the urgent tone in it was absolutely clear. 'I have seen many folks come and go while I have been here, and the ones who decide to stay can only be considered as absolute scum, if you'd ask me. But this one, who has only arrived last night… he is different. He is worse. Far worse. Nothing more but pure evil, I tell you.'
'How so?' Cora asked.
'Let me try to explain this to you… I could have sensed it from the moment he got here. We all did. It has been whispered amongst us ever since. This man… he's like us, but at the same time, he isn't. He's also like you. Dead, yet also living.'
'Hold on a moment…' Darby said before Suit could ramble on any further. 'You said he only arrived yesterday… Then he couldn't possibly be responsible for the deaths of those travelers that had taken place here as of late. If he isn't, then who is? Do you know anything about that? Has there been a Mindless roaming the property for the past couple of weeks?'
'I don't know what you mean by a 'Mindless', but… I think I know who you're talking about.' That's when Suit's slightly crooked nose wrinkled with disgust. 'He was one of those people who decided to stay here like a month ago. That fucking creep who got shot after he tried putting his hands on one of the prostitutes who worked here. I have seen the police hauling his body in a bag outside. Alexander was his name, I believe. Up until now, he had been the worst ghost to ever roam the corridors. He is the one responsible for those deaths. Kept rambling on about how he needed to keep adding to his 'kill count', that sick bastard. Couldn't give less than a damn about the families of those people. But that man, that… half ghost, had done something to him. He did something to that psychopath to control him. I have seen it myself… I have seen him sic Alexander onto those two homeless men, as if he was testing him or something. He obeyed him like a dog. He has infected him with something, we don't know with what, we don't know how, but it certainly has changed him into some sort of monster and… We are terrified. We are all terrified of him. So please, go! Go while you still ca-'
Despite the bleeding ghost's best efforts to keep his voice down, something that had been hiding all along in the dusty, filthy vents (where a rodent would occasionally succumb to starvation or disease, leaving only its tiny bones behind after its rotten body was done stinking up a good portion of the rooms) that formed a maze throughout the entire building and was supposed to supply the rooms with fresh air, had been alerted and found its way to where it needed to be. It was all going to start here, in this very room. The sole source of lighting that made their surroundings somewhat visible was dim at best, but it had just been bright enough to reveal a thick, black mist cascading down the wall, through the slits of the vent's grate like some sort of waterfall. Cora's and Darby's sights remained glued on it, both taking a step back. As soon as this strange mist emerged, a strong, foul odor instantly spread through the entire room that would make it absolutely impossible for anyone to not notice was had just coursed through the vents; and because it was still fresh in his memory, it instantly brought Darby back to a specific night. Those Mindless who had attacked them out of the blue were reeking with this stench, that strange, putrid stench that he hadn't been able to put a finger on, only able to vaguely associate it with sickness. An infection. Just like this evil that had recently arrived and had been lurking these corridors ever since had inflicted upon Alexander…
Those two Mindless… they never had been 'average' Mindless after all, let alone Wanderers or Restless, had they?
'Oh no… no, no, no, no…!' Suit stammered, looking around with wide, frightened eyes. 'It's him! Oh God, I'm going to be next! No, plea-'
But before he even had the chance to try to escape, he began to uncontrollably cough in between ragged, desperate gasps for fresh air to the point where he fell down on his knees, only breathing in more of the black mist that had rapidly formed a thin layer on the floor by now. At that very moment, both Darby and Cora knew they had to get the hell out of here, but then it happened in the blink of an eye. It all happened so fast, taking them entirely by surprise, even a ghost hunting veteran like Darby Allin, who had all the right to address himself with this after ten years of living this lifestyle. For a whole decade he had been doing this job, but what was unfolding in front of him right now, was unlike anything he had ever witnessed, astonishing him to the very core. This is what must have happened to those ghosts who had attacked them at the campfire; this is how they must have undergone their excruciating transformation and the loss of their minds, all the hands of this 'half ghost'. Less than three seconds after unintentionally breathing in the black mist, Suit's voice distorted into a deep, disturbing pitch while he continued to cough and gasp. A liquid that resembled ink emerged from underneath the fabric of his clothing, quickly soaking them with pitch black ooze, even overlapping that red that had stained the sleeves, leaving small puddles of black liquid on the carpet. That's when the coughing abruptly stopped and was replaced by one single, ear-deafening scream, which was caused by a pair of thin, long antlers piercing through his eyes.
Cora was able to stifle a gasp of pure horror behind her hand that she used to cover her mouth. Holy fuck… what the hell was happening to him?! But there was no time to wonder much about this, because as soon as his eyes were replaced with antlers that had black liquid dripping down its spikes and edges, whatever humanity that the sole ghost who had been willing to fork them over any information had possessed, was forever lost… along with the will of his own. He knew that the man who had created this mist and turned him into one of his puppets demanded for these two living beings to be taken down, and so he obeyed. It was his sole purpose. Black liquid of corruption bubbled in his throat and spilled over his limp jaw as he got up, his movements jerking and twitching as he did so. A shrill, distorted screech erupted from his mouth when he charged towards the duo like the wild animal that he had become.
Darby was the first one to snap out of it. He ran towards the charging Infected as fast as he could with his clenched fist pulled all the way back, ready to launch a punch that surely would be strong enough to knock him down. Sure enough, his fist began brightly glowing with a purple light, storing all the energy he was going to need for this. And just before the Infected could put its elongated hands around the blonde ghost hunter's head, he managed to duck just in time and land a powerful punch onto its stomach with perfect precision, causing thick droplets of black to come flying out of his mouth and the screeching to be promptly silenced. But right when it came this close to losing its balance, the Infected had managed to regain his footing, and this time, his hands this find his target's face. A muffled grunt could be heard from behind the misshapen appendage when its unnaturally long fingers closed around his head. Darby's hand was once again clenched into a tight, glowing fist, but when his knuckles came this close to striking the hand in an attempt to loosen the suffocating grip, the Infected used his other hand to tightly grab the blonde ghost hunter's wrist. One hard pull would be more than enough to rip Darby's arm clean off of his body, Cora immediately knew, and so didn't hesitate for a second to jump in. A fireball that was bright enough to illuminate the entire room was launched straight towards the face of the Infected, and despite the fact that it had been mutated beyond restoration, it was still capable of feeling the intense pain the burning flames brought along, causing it to instantly drop Darby to the ground and claw at the reddened skin on his face. There was no time to be wasted. The blonde ghost hunter quickly got back up on his feet and tightly grab onto the sides of the Infected and pump a massive amount of energy into its body, causing every vein to brightly glow with purple, making sure it reached everywhere. It was only a matter of seconds before the lavender light fully consumed the Infected, who was only capable of screaming in a mix of pain and despair at this point. Darby and Cora managed to tightly squeeze their eyes shut right before a blinding flash of purple lit up the entire room and forever silenced the mutated specter; when the light vanished and the silence followed, they carefully opened their eyes and slowly looked around, instantly realizing that it was thankfully just the two of them now; the corrupted being that was the Infected had completely vanished into thin air.
To Darby however, this relief was rather short-lived, for he could practically taste the corruption on his tongue.
'Cora…' he said. 'Fuck, I… I think I breathed some of that stuff in.'
A sharp pain jolted right behind his eyes with such intensity that a strained groan escaped past the blonde ghost hunter's clenched teeth; covering his face with his hands and digging his fingers into his skin in an attempt to somewhat ease the sudden pain turned out to be in vain. Damn it, goddamn it, this must have been exactly what that ghost had been feeling before those antlers shot through his eye sockets, and there was nothing he could do about it, Darby realized, and it was that thought that made his ever-present stoic nature waver for a brief moment. That's when he felt it snaking its way inside of his head; a certain kind of darkness that served as the home of many whispering voices, all of them urging him to give into it. One voice in particularly towered above all others, which belonged to a grown man, who only told him one thing: to stop resisting. Darby couldn't think straight anymore, that dark mist was seeping into every corner of his mind like the infection that it was, damn it… The pain refused to lessen, growing to the point where on of his knees touched the carpet and it this point, his hands were no longer cradling his face to try to make it all go away; at this point, it was more about preventing from a pair of massive antlers to permanently blind him and strip his mind of any will whatsoever, certainly dooming him to become a rampaging monster.
Someone else wasn't planning on letting him give into the whispers, though.
'Darby? No no no, Darby!' Cora knelt down in front of him, trying her hardest to hide the trembling in her voice, knowing damn well that she was going to have to be calm for this to hopefully succeed. She took a hold onto his hands and though she did have to use a bit of force to pry them away from his face, there was certainly a hint of gentleness to be found in it. Hoping that he wasn't going to take this the wrong way if he would snap out of this but feeling like this was necessary nonetheless, she rapidly patted him on the cheek. 'Hey, listen, I'm here… it's me, Darby. Open your eyes, look at me. Look at me, Darby. You can do this, don't give into it! Please snap out of it! Darby…!'
He could hear her as clear as day. Even though she spoke with a gentle tone, it was still somehow louder than all the other voices that were lingering in the darkness, even the one who clearly belonged to a man. Cora… Her voice acted like the beacon he needed to guide himself through it all, and so he followed it, focusing onto it for dear life and blocking out everything else.
Letting out a shuddering breath, he could feel the last amount of the pain that had tormented him fading away, making him feel safe enough to open his eyes; the relief on Cora Jade's face was the first thing he saw.
'That… That was close.' Darby groaned, cradling the right side of his head with his hand. 'Thanks, Cora.'
'Oh, thank God… How are you feeling? Are you okay?'
'Feels like I hit my head on the pavement while skateboarding, but…' Despite everything that had just happened, the blonde ghost hunter couldn't help but lightly chuckle. 'I'll live. Don't you worry about me.'
'Not sure if I can do that…'
The relief was yet again cut short when they heard the wailing. That ungodly wailing that was entirely composed of countless of voices echoing through the cold night, hailing from every single direction of the building, some crying out in fear, others in suffering, all of them collectively warping into unsettling, grotesquely distorted pitches; in the dark of the night outside, it would be easy to assume that these howls belonged to the damned souls who were eternally trapped in the deepest pits from Hell who were allowed for once to let their cries be heard. Darby and Cora didn't say a word when they heard the wailing, quickly realizing that this room hadn't been the only one that had been affected by the black mist that had escaped from the vents. No, it had found its way into every single room of the Cedar Hills, accidently breathed in by every wayward ghost that had hoped to find some safety in these times by hiding out with their fellow sufferers and warping their minds, forcing them to surrender to the main source who controlled this infectious mist; the one who had singlehandedly turned the Cedar Hills Motel into a kingdom of fear and control. No matter in which phase they had found themselves in, every Wanderer and Restless didn't stand a chance against the infection that rendered them to nothing more but puppets who would blindly follow the command to the one who caused all of this. The ghost hunting duo slowly got up, intently listening to the distorted cries that grew louder and louder by the second, and they both could easily guess of why this was happing; because there was a whole damn horde of Infected coming right their way, ready and willing to rip them into bloody shreds, or even worse.
'Looks like we're going to get some company.' Darby said, his stoic nature having fully restored.
'No problem, let them come.' Cora replied, already having an exact plan in mind for them to gain the upper hand. 'They won't know what freaking hit them. Come on, follow me. I know what to do.'
Now that they were both standing in the corridor, the distorted screams and howling of the corrupted specters became even more clear, and it became almost impossible to tell from which direction they were coming, forcing them to look into different directions with their backs facing each other. There were going to be a lot of them, they both knew; a whole fucking lot of them. Cora, who had just set up her plan mere moments earlier, just hoped that these creatures would be blind enough to not notice the floating balls of brightly burning flames that she had strategically placed near the wall, the bottom of the railing, a little higher up the wall and in the air, too focused on getting to their prey; if they wouldn't notice the trap, her fire balls sure as hell would notice them instead. And as for Darby… well, this hadn't been his first time at the rodeo, remembering past encounters with entire flocks of furious ghosts fixated on tearing his head and limbs off as if they happened only days ago. Most of these cases involved the Mindless, and while it had indeed been quite the challenge to take them down, he knew that this was probably going to be an even harder task. But if they were going to put their backs into this, which they sure as fuck would… then they would get out of this alive. And maybe there would be even time left to track down the fucker who was behind all of this.
Cora was facing the direction of the stairs, but when Darby briefly glanced over his shoulder into that same direction, he saw it too. Or rather; he saw them too. Gathered from all three floors, drenched in black ooze and mutated beyond the point of return, a swarm of Infected came clawing and stumbling up the stairs, their screeches, some of them mixed with loud gurgling, never ceasing for one second. As soon as some of the antlers that had sprouted from their cracked eye sockets turned to face the duo that was awaiting them on the corridor, countless arms reached out to them, tightly holding onto mainstays or digging their fingernails so deep into the floor that thin rows were carved out of the wood as they scrambled to get to their target. Grotesquely shaped bodies with skin tightly wrapped around the bones tumbled over each other when they charged towards the ghost hunters, forcing some of the Infected to take a little detour and crawl towards them by climbing sideways over the railings like some sort of gigantic, demented spider. Countless of mouths filled with long teeth, some stained with black blotches, some partially missing or entirely lost, parted to let out bloodthirsty bellows and droplets of black liquid. As light-weighted as they all seemed thanks to their collective lack of muscles, Cora and Darby could swear they still felt the corridor's floor slightly tremble as the swarm of Infected came charging at them. They were getting closer to them as each second passed, and as any person who weren't in their shoes would make the wise decision to make a run for it and get the hell out of this place, the feet of the ghost hunters remained on the same spot, their legs not moving for an inch and their sight entirely glued on the stampede that was closing in on them.
'Come on then you bastards, come on…' Cora could be heard whispering under her breath, clinging onto the hope of her plan working.
As it turned out, the swarm of Infected had indeed been too fixated on the only two living beings in the Cedar Hills Motel to realize that they had been running straight into a trap that would surely knock them down a peg or two. Only less than two meters from ripping into the duo like a pack of starved wolves, the fiery orbs detected their presence and charged towards them, instantly dissolving into a cloud of flames upon touching their bodies, creating such an intense heat that it almost immediately melted the ice that had formed on their surroundings, even causing the skin on Cora's and Darby's faces to sting for a bit. Ungodly screeches of pain immediately erupted from the horde as they were knocked down to the floor, some uncontrollably squirming and twitching while other attempted to put out the flames that had been left behind on their skins to burn them even further by violently clawing at them. This was her chance, Cora knew, and she had to give it her all. And that's exactly what she did. A loud scream escaped past her lips when she aimed both of her palms at their smoldered enemies, channeling all the energy that she had inside through her arms. The energy exploded out of her in the form of a massive stream of fire, bursting out of the palms of her hands and completely enveloping the fallen Infected. The distorted screams of agony made her ears ring and the sweltering heat was coming dangerously close to creating actual pain on her skin, but the ghost huntress kept going, determined to burn all of these fuckers down into a pile of ashes. A few seconds passed before the screaming ultimately ceased, and only then did Cora allow herself to stop and catch some air in the meanwhile. As soon as the flames vanished, there had been nothing left of the swarm but a thin layer of black fog floating mere millimeters above the scorched floor, quickly swept away by a passing breeze of summer air. Perhaps Cora hadn't felt it at the moment, but a few beads of sweat had formed on her forehead.
Unfortunately for her, the flames hadn't struck every single one of them, Darby soon realized. From the corner of his eye, he saw that one of the surviving Infected that had been rapidly climbing across the railings had gotten close enough to reach him. Darby managed to swiftly grab one of the antlers that had replaced the specter's eyes and took a tight, firm hold on his throat with his other hand. Bone-like material could be heard loudly cracking when the blonde ghost hunter used his strength to break off the antler like it was nothing more but a twig and proceeded to fully ram it through the chest of the screeching Infected; as soon as the creature fell silent, Darby pulled the antler out and dropped the specter to the ground below to promptly dissolve into black mist upon touching the concrete.
The distorted screams and howls that had ceased mere moments ago were then replaced by new ones. Sure enough, another wave of Infected had found them, and just like their predecessors, they instantly charged towards the ghost hunters. Many of them would soon find their end (which would definitely be considered as the noble act of mercy killing by some) by the flames that erupted out of Cora's hands. Many unnaturally enlarged, skeletal hands desperately attempted to grab her, only to be scorched into nothingness by pure fire, and soon enough flames had been launched over the corridor that every single bit of ice had been dissolved. Darby was the one who took care of all the Infected that had somehow managed to slip past the fire, charging at them with a weapon that had been proven quite useful at this moment; the long antler that was bound to possess a black hue when the ooze it had been drenched in would eventually dry up. Not once did his adrenaline let up when he charged into these Infected, driving his weapon with full force into either their chests or heads, one stab usually being enough to reduce them to mist. But even despite the rush that was coursing through his veins non-stop at this moment, he was fully aware of what would remain once an Infected was taken down, which was why he decided to immediately hold his breath and back off until the mist had fully vanished, knowing damn well of the risk if he would breathe after another slaying; and this time, there wouldn't be any time for Cora whatsoever to save him out of an incoming brainwashing and mutation.
Minutes of stabbing, slashing and nearly unbearable heat that came along with seemingly endless waves of Infected that felt like an eternity appeared to have finally come to an end, however; right after Darby had tossed another impaled Infected over the railing, the silence that followed lasted more than ten seconds… much longer than the previous breaks they had.
'Did we do it, Darby?' Cora panted, finally finding the time to wipe off the sweat from her forehead. 'Was that all of them? Every single one?'
A few more seconds of blissful silence followed, making it safe for Darby to assume that this was indeed the case. But before he could give her the answer, someone was already ahead of him. An elongated arm with black ooze cascading down its skeletal frame coming from above could produce enough strength to roughly grab Cora by her jacket and shirt, drag her over the railing and pull her up to the roof with such speed that all she could do was let out a surprised shriek; with his eyes widened, Darby loudly called out his traveling companion's name in shock.
The same unnaturally enlarged hand that had suddenly yanked her away and briefly dragged her through the air carelessly dropped her, making Cora land on the cold, flat roof with a painful thud, unfortunate enough for her head to touch the hard material first, causing everything within her sight to violently shake and send her into a daze. The ghost huntress tightly clenched her eyes shut and slightly lifted her head to cradle the back of it, but whoever had just dragged her up here wasn't planning on trying to soothe the pain even for a little bit.
A massive shadow loomed over her when a large, skeletal body drenched from head to toe with black liquid hovered over the young woman, kneeling down in front of her. Thick drops of black landed on her face, trickling down and leaving tracks behind on her skin. It hadn't only been this rather unpleasant sensation that was forcing Cora to open her eyes to see what, or rather who, was looking down at her with a hunger that could only be possessed by the most vicious of predators; it was the unbearable stench of something that was rotting, no, probably dying. Cora instantly found herself staring straight into a pair of long thin antlers with sharp spikes and wholly stained with the same black liquid that was seeping from every pore of the body from this Infected, only a few centimeters away from piercing into her face. As if this wasn't horrible enough for the ghost huntress to let out a gasp, she was unlucky enough to get a good look at the face of the Infected who was hovering above her right now; it was perhaps this sight that was even more fear-inducing than those antlers. Unlike all the other Infected she and her companion had been fighting off for dear life a few moments ago, the mouth on this one seemed to have permanently frozen into a wide, large grin that perfectly showed the insanity that was still lingering inside of him despite him being under full control of his 'master', a mouth that was filled to the brim with the vilest neglected teeth she had seen in her whole life, rotten to the very core and hideously yellowed. Strands of wavy, black hair were glued onto his skull. A crudely tattooed pentagram on his disgustingly thin chest peeked through the streaks of black liquid.
It was all because of his own sheer insanity that Alexander Martinez retained, even as an Infected, was still able to produce one word and one word alone, directed at the woman below him.
'Whore…' was emitted in the most nightmarish pitch imaginable before his mouth shaped back into that sickening grin, causing even more drops of decay to drip onto Cora's face.
That's when she saw what he was holding in one of his malformed hands, raised high in the sky and seconds away from coming down with full speed; the machete that had cut the lives of many unfortunate women working the streets at night back at New Jersey short. Even though her surroundings still slightly trembled, Cora had caught a good glimpse of it, letting out another shriek and quickly rolling out of the way. Had she done this one heartbeat too late, the blade would have surely plunged into her skull, hitting the material of the roof instead and leaving a deep gash. Liquid loudly bubbled in Alexander's throat when he growled in frustration, not letting one missed hit stop him from getting what he wanted, or rather, what his master wanted, no… what they both wanted. The chance for Cora to attempt fighting back was immediately thrown out of the window when she saw the machete coming down again, thus forcing her to dodge it once more and earning another angered grunt from the bloodthirsty Infected. There was no opportunity to lie still for long enough to create a counterattack, for the machete would come close over and over again to striking her and hacking her into a bloody pulp. Cora found her lungs slowly running out of air as she continued to roll out of the way, making her unsure of how much longer she could keep it up like this, she couldn't even get back up on her feet. This bastard was gonna keep going until she was dead, she suddenly realized, the thought jolting through her head like lightning. He could do this all damn night if he needed to, he would wait for her to slip up and see hi-
Perhaps it was this frantic stream of thoughts, her stamina finally running low or a combination of both; something sharp and huge pierced through her hand like it made of butter and pinned it down to the roof, immediately followed by a pain so unbearable that it made her see stars as she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Now lying on her back, Cora's widened eyes darted from left to right before her sight froze upon the horrifying sight right next to her. Alexander's machete had found its target at last, a little less than half driven straight through her hand and into the roof, making it impossible for her to move it. Even if she tried to, she would have ended up in a world of pain that would render her incapable of trying to escape. Blood leaked from the freshly created wound, escaping from it in thick streams.
It all came back to her. It was rushing through her head and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The pain had unlocked it, set it free from its chains. It had always been there, tucked away in the depths of her mind, but as much as she had wanted to hide it and wish to never remember it again as much as she wanted, it had patiently waited for its moment to be set free and resurface with a vengeance, fully focused on paralyzing her down to her very bones. Cora had felt it on the night her body had been wounded with a knife, crashing over her when she saw the look of nearly demonic rage in Trevor's eyes when he plunged and slashed the blade's sharp edge into her arms multiple times, being far more overwhelming than the pain that had been inflicted, easily overpowering it.
Fear.
Pure, paralyzing fear.
It had nestled itself so deep inside of her that it even numbed the raw, red jolt of pain that came with the machete being crudely pulled out of her hand. As if she was caught in a trance, Cora stared at the Infected that had once been dubbed as the Night Slasher in a previous life, with that vile grin still plastered onto his face. And it would most likely grow even wider once he had hacked her into so many times that her body would be beyond recognition, which was why he raised his machete in the air once more. Why wasn't she screaming? Why wasn't she screaming when she knew what was coming to her?
'N... No…' was all that Cora could utter whilst a lone tear ran down her cheek.
One thing that Alexander hadn't been counting on was a man from around his would-be victim's age, clad in black and arms glowing with lavender rushing towards him and tackling him down to the roof before he had the chance to swing down his weapon. As soon as she heard the infuriated yell coming from her rescuer, enough sensation returned in her arms for Cora to carefully bend them and support herself on her elbows, watching the sight unfold in front of her. All Darby Allin had needed to get up on that roof was that railing, a good sense of balance and a lot of strength in his arms to pull him up, something he had never broken a sweat over. The impact he had made had been more than enough to knock Alexander straight down, and the blonde ghost hunter knew exactly where he was going for next. If this fucker was dazed enough right now, he could break off those antlers with absolute ease and jam it into his chest, hell, maybe even stab him a few more times as retribution for what he was about to do to his companion. But before Darby could have the chance to find a firm grip onto the antlers, he was able to catch a glimpse of what was about to swing into his head from the corner of his eye. Had he thrown himself off the Infected one second too late, it hadn't been the tips of his hair that had been cut clean off. As soon as he fell down on his backside, the blonde ghost hunter's focus immediately shifted to Alexander's kneecaps, the thought of going straight for them crossing his mind. Once again, the Infected once known as the Night Slasher proved that he was much faster (which had been most likely increased by the strength he had gained upon corrupting, his thirst for carnage, or perhaps a combination of both) by swinging down the machete in another attempt to hack off whatever body part he could strike. That's when Darby hand tightly clenched around the wrist of the Infected. A strained grunt emerged from the blonde ghost hunter's mouth as he required all the strength he needed to prevent the blade from slashing into his head, causing his hand to glow even brighter.
All of a sudden, a crack that strongly resembled crunching, dry wood could be heard, along with a distorted howl of pain that would make anyone's blood run cold. Now that Alexander's wrist had quite literally broken under the pressure, his hand had been rendered useless, going entirely limp; the machete landed on the roof with an audible clank.
Letting go of the Infected to pick it up with the plan to give him a taste of his own medicine would sound tempting to anyone, but to Darby, it would only risk giving this psychotic ghost the opening he needed in order to fight back, he knew. And that's why he quickly kicked the weapon away from them as far as he could, which turned out to be far enough to send it falling from the edge into the darkness below. But even with that precaution, Alexander still seemed to find the right opportunity to come up with a counterattack. As much as the arm he was still capable of using lacked muscle, it could still create an impact hard enough to make the ghost hunter let out a choked-off exclamation when he struck him in the stomach with his fist, even lifting him in the air for a few centimeters. Alexander's broken wrist was freed from Darby's grip right when this happened and as soon as Darby landed with a loud, painful thud, an elongated hand tightly clenched itself around his throat, immediately cutting off all air, though not strong enough to crush his windpipe like it was made of wet carton. Alexander used the strength inside of his hand to keep Darby pinned down on his knees as his antlers slowly inched closer to his face, the grin full of decayed teeth having remained present during the entirety of this fight. That machete wasn't the only thing he could use to pierce into someone's body, after all; ending Darby's life with his antlers would suffice, without a doubt, and it was like the mere thought of letting his lifeless corpse impaled onto the spikes made him salivate, as evidenced by the black liquid trickling from the corner of his mouth.
But just as he was about to get close enough for some of the spikes to poke into Darby's skin, a thin stream of fire was used to draw a circle around the hulking Infected and instantly shot up a wall of brightly burning flames, catching his arm right in the middle of it; it was all Cora could do for her companion at the moment, her body still partially numbed but allowing just enough fire to escape from the palm of her other hand that hadn't been wounded to prevent the worst outcome imaginable for this fight. Another wail of pain emerged from Alexander's slightly parted teeth, the scorching flames promptly making him let go of Darby's throat. There wasn't much time to catch some much-needed air; hell, there wasn't any time at all. In the blink of an eye, the circle of flames had vanished. And that's when Darby leapt straight towards the Infected, grab the antlers protruding from the abomination's eye sockets, pulled him down on his knees and rammed his glowing fist through the two rows of decayed teeth with so much power that it emerged from the back of Alexander's head. Countless trickles of black ooze ran down the tightened appendage, cutting tracks through the purple light.
Less than three seconds later, Alexander Martinez's weakly twitching, deformed body dissolved into a layer of black mist, and when that disappeared, the murderous existence of the Night Slasher had officially come to an end at last.
'Cora!'
The blonde ghost hunter quickly rushed towards his companion, whose legs were refusing to function properly. He knelt down next to her, and of course, the mangled hand was the first thing about her that caught his immediate attention.
'Holy fuck, your hand! Are you alright? Do you think you can get up?'
'I… I don't think I can, Darby… Damn it…'
'Come on, hold onto me. We're going to get that hand fixed up in no ti-'
Slow-paced footsteps approached them from behind, belonging to the invisible spectator of everything that had gone down on this night, having witnessed everything from the shadows that had kept him hidden. The ghost hunting duo instantly looked up, both finding it hard to believe what they were seeing. What the hell? How was this possible? Had he been around this whole damn time? But how could this possibly be if they hadn't caught a single glimpse of him? All these questions danced through their head when they saw a man who didn't possess one wrinkle on his pitch-black suit walking towards them, having seemingly manifested himself out of nowhere; not even Cora had spotted him during the moments where she had found herself incapacitated. His hands were resting low on his body with the fingertips touching each other, not parting for a millimeter as he was getting closer to them. But then, just when he was one meter shy of reaching them, he stopped dead in his tricks. The gaze in his eyes that were wholly fixated on Darby was just as cold as the intense chill that his very presence alone produced, perfectly matching that of the same cold that accompanied a ghost's presence. Just as Darby was about to convince himself that this was yet another specter that he had to fight, the memory of Suit telling them about a man who was just like his supernatural brethren, but at the same time, belonged to the world of the living as well, flashed through his head in the blink of an eye. The half-ghost. Was this him? Had he been the one behind the infection that had spread through Cedar Hills?
'I have to admit, you have impressed me very much.' Malakai Black calmly spoke. 'Darby, wasn't it? I will let you be the one to decide whether it's an honor or not, but you have been the first one to resist my control, unlike all the others. Your willpower truly matches your strength.'
'Yeah, well, spare me all the flattery, it's not going to get you anywhere.' Darby answered. 'So… can I assume that it had been you behind this whole goddamn mess? You're the one who send those freakshows after us?'
The answer to these questions came in the form of a silent, brief nod from Malakai.
'If that's the case, I want to know your name. So, you better tell me… who the hell are you?'
'The name is Malakai. Malakai Black. And you, Darby, are the key. The key that will fulfill my mission. You should rejoice. Because after all, it's you and you alone who possesses the power to earn this role.' That's when he turned his head to glare at a quiet Cora, whose widened eyes hadn't looked away from him for a second. 'You, however… are nothing more but a hindrance.'
And before the ghost huntress or her companion had any chance to react to this, the half-ghost vanished in the blink of an eye, only to reemerge right in front of them within a heartbeat. A foot was launched into Cora's ribs with an impact that sent her flying across the roof, eventually making her rapidly roll towards the edge… and let her roll off accompanied by a terrified shriek.
'You fucker!' Darby furiously screamed at him, but was promptly robbed of the opportunity to come charging at him when that same foot was pressed down onto his throat, pinning him down and coming close to crushing his throat if more pressure was applied. Through the black spots that danced in front of Darby's eyes, he could still see the icy cold gaze above him as Malakai stared down at the blonde ghost hunter.
'As much as you have impressed me earlier, trying to resist my control shall be pointless this time. You can't fight me, Darby. You can't win this.'
Even though his vision had grown clouded due to the lack of oxygen, he could still see the ink-like substance that had transformed every single ghost residing in the Cedar Hills Motel into ravenous abominations trickling out of the corner of Malakai's mouth… which would undoubtedly dry up fast in the burning flames that were suddenly blown into his face, soon growing big enough to envelop his entire upper body.
Hanging over the edge of the roof using her upper body for dear life and supporting herself with the arm that had her injured hand attached to after she had managed to hold onto it just in time before plummeting down below, Cora forced herself to keep going as she kept her functional hand aimed at their attacker, spewing out the thickest, hottest flamethrower her powers allowed her to at the moment. She watched as the tattooed man in black stumbled away from her companion, bellowing in pain as he took a few steps back. As much as the ghost huntress wished to reduce this bastard into a giant heap of ashes, the pain caused by her mangled hand cut the flamethrower that had burst through her open palm short. The heavy smell of burnt flesh had formed all over this roof, and if the winds would be strong enough tonight, it could make anyone unfortunate enough to be in this proximity to gag in repulsion.
Sissling flesh bubbled with searing heat, skin had been scorched to a thick crisp, numerous thin trails of smoke traveled upwards to the sky until it vanished, pain came this close to blinding him. He couldn't complete the mission like this, not now. Malakai had managed to remain on his feet despite the sudden attack, and even in the face of grave injuries, his glare towards Darby remained cold; though there was undoubtedly rage brewing behind it.
'We will see each other again. Sooner than you might think.' he growled before he let the darkness around him swallow him up, vanishing into the night.
Darby hurried towards Cora as fast as he could.
