[Orig] Ghost Café: Pumpkin Jack Pie (pt 11-15)
Title: Ghost Café: Pumpkin Jack Pie
Summary: Jeremy Reiner is a detective-exorcist prone to dangerous ladies. One of them is Sarah, a blonde agent from the Vicerra Corporation, head of Elysian London. With Hallow's Day just around the corner, spirits from the dead realm escape to the living world, and one of them might just be Jack the Ripper.
A/N: For Nano '09. w00t! Action time! I'm stopping here, as I've still yet to go over them again. So far, the wordcount had dropped considerably with the number of unnecessary scenes, like the monologues (lol Sarah). The Intermissions are down to just three too, from the original five lol. I guess even I would get tired of listening to these characters rant.
Part 11 - Act Seven: Lower London, Revisited; Scene One: Dearest Brother Dear
Act Seven: Lower London, Revisited
Scene One: Dearest Brother Dear
Equipped with our new knowledge, Selene and I race back to Elysian London. I can barely contain my excitement when I barge straight into the terminal room, making a few shamans jump out of their seat in shock before I run straight to fruitcake's office.
The doors aren't locked when I forcefully pushed them open, and I'm glad for once that fruitcake is actually around to hear me out.
“God damn it!”
He instantly swears the moment I slam the doors open, the golden doorknobs hitting the marble walls with a loud slam. But I don't care about cracked walls or paying for them. Heck, all I have in mind is to make fruitcake hear what I have to say, and seriously, what I have to say is going to rock his pants.
“I've figured it out!”
“What?” He screams back. Sarah's giggling like the girl she is. “I'm glad, then,” she says, smiling.
“The antihuman! I've figured out how to destroy it!”
“Splendid!” Fruitcake is being sarcastic again, but who cares? I don't. “Now go and look for it so you can finally get rid of it.”
“I need your head!”
“What-”
“He means your ideas,” Selene deadpans his brother. Good. She still remembers my slang. “And basically, your presence as well.”
“But-”
“Come on! Move it! I need you now! And you too, darling! I need both of your heads!”
Besides, I think it’s high time for Vicerra to breathe some Lower London breeze for a change.
Part 12 - Scene Two: Sarah Gets Captured Again?
Scene Two: Sarah Gets Captured Again?
Sarah is very hesitant of getting a mile near the inn. Fruitcake, in the meantime, is still throwing one of his spazztastic fits. And yes, that is a word. I said so myself.
“Why are we here?!”
Dear ol’ Sarah is being such an unreasonable damsel, and if only that old lady taking a rest from walking her dog isn’t around, I would’ve slapped her hard.
...and also if Selene isn't invisibly frothing like mad.
“Reiner, I demand that you take me back to my office!”
And I’m also enjoying this very much. Do take note that fruitcake is direction-illiterate when it comes to places outside Elysian London. Poor guy. I bet if I leave him alone in Upper London, he can make his way back. Given, of course, if he survives from getting kidnapped.
“Ease up, fruit juice. I need your brain here.”
“My… brain?”
The utter look of puzzlement in his face is enough to send me laughing my arse off, because there’s never a much stupider face than his.
“Reiner!”
Sarah sighs. For once, I’m grateful she hasn’t decided to kick my balls for verbally beating her boss arse. Yet.
“He means your idea. Please excuse his vocabulary. He can only go so far with it,” Selene says over her shoulder a few steps ahead of us.
The laugh stopped for the sake of a pride-sabotaging glare, which really fails to sabotage any pride left in me that’s untouched by Selene's cold, merciless words. This woman definitely gets off from insulting me. I have no further explanation on her fondness for such a trivial activity. (See? My vocabulary isn’t challenged. It just looks challenged because I’m standing next to an AI, her fruitcake of a boss, and his murderer of a sister.)
“Oh, never mind,” Vicerra sighs.
Ahead of me, I hear Selene sigh loudly. Ah, she must have finally given up a belief she's been clinging to. About bloody time. “Even up till now, I'm still amazed at how well and dear you name us.”
“You have to be,” because it's not that easy to come up with endearments, I'd like to add as well, but seeing fruitcake's murderous glare, I don't think he'll appreciate being called a fruitcake (or a fruit juice, or anything fruity at all) as an endearment.
“Anyway, how far is this Boswell Inn?”
“We're near it,” Selene answers for me, still keeping quiet as much as possible. I wonder if this has anything to do with fruitcake's presence. I've known her for eleven years, but none in that span has she ever mentioned to me about fruitcake. Does she hate him that much she completely pretended his existence didn't exist? Even I am not that cruel, if ever I'm going to hate fruitcake. In fact, I'd more likely to brag Vicerra around, even if what I'm bragging about isn't naturally to be boasted.
“But what are we doing here, Jeremy?” Sarah finally asks with a bit of skepticism as we stand outside the door to Boswell Inn. I shrug before entering the inn's lobby.
“The antihuman is taking residence in this place, which can only mean that the controller must be nearby.”
Even if the antihuman isn't around right now, we can still get some clues about it. No criminals, no matter how great or magnificent, don't leave traces behind. Even a devil is traceable just by its aura. It all depends on how good the detective is in deducting, and how sharp his eyes are. We're just lucky we have two of such detectives, the greater of the two being me. (Unbiasedly judged, this is.)
“But what if it's around, and it'll attack us again?” Sarah asks. Well, I can now see she's clearly not happy with our current arrangement. Can't blame her though, but too bad she doesn't have much choice now, does she?
Finally, with the kitchen door on sight, I signal the girls to grab whatever for defense. Simultaneously, both pull out their guns, Selene's being scarier and in pairs. Why have I forgotten her trigger-happy addiction? And no, I should not laugh at Vicerra's Firestar. (It's just that it's so bloody small and girly compared to the girls' guns!)
“Do we split up or not?” Selene asks, glancing around the place warily. The negative aura she's feeling must be stronger in here; definitely stronger than what I can feel. She's been more sensitive to aura ever since, which is why I usually accept her partnership readily, even if it'll cost me lots of months of recuperation.
I suggest checking the kitchen again, but she only shakes her head, saying she doesn't feel anything from it anymore. “It's as if everything is concentrated above us.”
“What about below?”
“None that I can feel of.”
“Alright, we go up then,” I say. Absently, my arm reaches for short silver sword I brought along, strapped to my thigh. It's usually very useful when fighting demons, but I don't know if it'll have the same effect on an antihuman. Let's just hope a little.
Selene leads the climb up the stairs, Sarah following then Vicerra trailing behind as I lead up the tail. If ever Sarah gets swept away again, I'll know by hearing fruitcake's scream.
As if reading my thoughts, Sarah suddenly screams, black tendrils of wisps shooting out from below ground and wrapping around her legs. Vicerra runs for it, lounging straight towards it and I have my gun safety-off already, but poof, she’s gone. Selene stood shell-shocked, staring at the space Sarah previously occupied.
Those tentacles shared the same black properties as the antihuman from this morning. Shits, don’t tell me she got kidnapped by the same thing again?
“Reiner, what’s below us?”
I snap myself out of my thoughts. Selene's checking her vicinity on red alert now, both guns facing opposite directions, but her focus is clearly on the stair boards.
This building is only three levels high. I’ve yet to enter the third, but I’m sure it’s just the same as the second; a long corridor with rooms on both sides. Now, if this place has a cellar, it’s either for storage or the heaters and pipes the power system.
Wait.
“There’s no door for a cellar here.”
“What? How can you be sure of that?”
I’m sure of it. I saw the lobby, and I hardly mistake what I see. Stepping off the stairs and going back to the lobby tells me that I still have to lose my touch, and that it’s impossible for this place to have some kind of passage to the cellar.
Unless it’s hidden. Covered, most probably, or something that looks camouflaged. It’s not that unusual now that I think about it; disguising the entryway to the cellar is a normal thing to do in decors, even when if the place is a cheap inn.
Then again, there’s also the thought that just because the tendrils came from below ground doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll go down, right? Instinctively, I look up, remembering the room where I found Sarah. I only realized why it decided to use the second to the last room instead when I was on the shower. The reasons are a lot, ranging from being less obvious to wanting to buy itself some time. As for the latter, I’m sure it’s just my mind’s usual far-looking conclusion, but I want to be safe than sorry with my excuses. But if it is the latter, then we have some serious antihuman case going on here, and maybe a far more dangerous mastermind. This thing controlling the antihuman has got to be smart and has everything planned to the smallest dot. This isn’t a work of any ordinary human-eating demon, and this definitely isn’t your ordinary poltergeist prank, special holiday or not.
I wonder if it will still be safe for us to split up. We might get another attack, even if I'm sure Sarah will make a good decoy. I don’t have a concrete idea on which level of this building is safer, and I’m not up to pushing Vicerra into any dangerous situation without my supervision. He’s the leader of a multibillionaire company, sincerely trying to patch up the bad ties between ordinary London and the freaky London. And he’s just an ordinary human, too, even more ordinary than me, considering that I’m an exorcist since my youth. In short, I have his safety and future to worry about. (Let's ignore the fact that I've brought him here to play decoy.)
“Let’s split up.”
What? “No.”
Vicerra glares at me, annoyed, probably. “Why not?” Angry, even. But hey, I’m not called Jeremy Reiner the Extraordinaire for nothing.
“I can’t put you under any harm.”
“Bollocks, Reiner,” Selene glares at me from the top of the stairwell. Shite, she must have caught another one of my thoughts. She never gets angry that easily unless I thought and planned something not quite nice. Between us, Vicerra is getting rather cautious, glancing from his sister to me. I don't like how wary and doubtful his eyes are becoming.
“What does she mean, Reiner?”
“I have no idea.”
“Don't shite with me, Reiner!”
Then suddenly, the ground shakes like mad, and before any of us could hold onto something, the step underneath Selene collapsed, taking her down.
“ROSENKREUZ!”
Then as if it's made of magic, the wooden step fixed itself, the hole now gone. Stupefied, Vicerra and I stare at it with fear. I don't think I like where this is leading us to.
“Damn it, Reiner, we have to split up!”
“No.”
He can sure be bloody persistent when he wants to be. Bloody fruitcake.
“I don't know about you, but I worry for them!”
“Selene can take well care of herself,” I mutter. Sadly, I can't say the same about Sarah. She didn't manage quite well last time-not that Vicerra has to know that.
“I know she can fend for herself, but I doubt how long she can defend herself.”
“Pipe it, fruitcake. No means no.” And for extra measures, I glare at him. But being the bloody persevering bull he is, he glares back, snarling so angrily he's practically screaming bloody murder through his eyes alone.
“I can take care of myself.”
For one moment, he sounds really sure of himself. But I don’t know. I’m not really the kind of guy who trusts classy, Armani-clad half-politician, half-businessman socialites to be well-able in the field of evil-fighting. I guess I have no choice but to sacrifice a little bit of Sarah’s safety for this guy. I’m sure she won’t mind; she’s his tracker after all, and trackers are meant to protect their charges without having to be ordered.
But no. I’m not risking my license and reputation for this guy’s satisfaction. I'm only willing to risk it if I'm going to prove a point (or a master plan, but I don't think I'll get to execute it anymore). “Forget it. We’re sticking together, whether you like it or not.”
“What gives you the authority to order me around?” Vicerra asks, incredulous as he gives me that stare that reminds me of our great social class difference. Honestly, does he think I actually give a bloody damn about that kind of thing? Pulling ranks on me is like tempting me with chocolates, which I do not like at all in case you’re missing the point here.
Maybe I should remind him of any exorcist-on-mission’s rule. “Your status is nothing once I’m in charge. This is my area of expertise, which basically means I’m the leader here.”
“And you seem to have forgotten that I am your employer. Without me, you won’t be handling this case at all.”
“But without me, you’ll be stuck in the gutter.”
I have to commend him though. He’s quite the tough nut. Easy to crack, yes, but hard to bite. Bugger, this guy is making me run for my money.
“Reiner,” he hisses, and I think it’s not the friendly kind of hiss anymore. “Stop being self-centered for once and be aware that you’re not the only exorcist in town. I can find better, more obedient and definitely less obnoxious exorcists than you, so don’t make me change my mind about you.”
“Then why are you keeping up with me?” I ask without any second thought. A blink, as if startled that I even dare to react like that, then he calms down. Like a volcano that’s about to erupt, already choking lava out of its mouth, only to suddenly get dampen by a gigantic, imaginary bucket of ice-cold water. It’s bizarre how a pompous man’s mind can work. Almost nonhuman like.
Even after a minute, when all those sixty seconds could have been used to search for Sarah gone to waste, Vicerra remains quiet, and I sort of got the hint now that he won’t be opening that mouth any time soon unless it is to give mandatory and precise orders. I’m not surprised either, for I know a man of great respect will always demand it from others, and will never bow down to anyone.
“Alright, genius,” he finally says, his bloody tone dripping with sarcasm. “Who should we save first?”
Should that even be asked? Goodness.
“Darling Sarah, of course. Who else makes a better damsel decoy than her?”
Plan to use fruitcake as a bait is now completely scrapped.
Part 13 - Scene Three: Six Feet Under The Earth
Scene Three: Six Feet Under The Earth
Coughing, I wipe away the shower of dust all over me.
Damn. That bloody monster just had to ruin my coat.
Looking up, all I see is nothing but wooden planks nailed together in a descending pattern. Ah, so that's the stairs, which means I'm currently buried underneath the staircase. Wonderful. I can't think of anything else smarter than this.
Grabbing Ebony and Ivory from the ground, I click off their safeties before firing directly at the stairs. If this thing brought me down here, then it can also bring me up there. The triggering didn't stop, not even when the guns clicked empty. Magically charged bullets hit wood, bursting the entire structure into dusts, and I waited until the cloud of dust dissipates to reveal the huge hole that should now be present. But the cloud didn't disappear, as it is supposed to be. Awed, I stare at how the dusts begin recollecting themselves, becoming solid then forming back into the wooden planks that they were.
Regenerating stairs.
“Fascinating.” Not even my Unnatural's power can break through it.
What a better way indeed to trap a menace in. But no, I'm not going to stay stuck here until Jeremy comes around to save me. (Then again, I wonder if he'll even bother saving me. I know he's always been tempted to leave me in the ditch as a payback.)
Holstering the twin guns and throwing my now ruined coat away, I step back from the stairs, heading deeper into my new cage. This must be the cellar Jeremy's talking about. The cellar with no doors. I almost snort in amusement. Definitely no doors alright, if you didn't know about the stairs.
I almost slipped ten steps away from my fall. There are three wide steps that leads down, and stepping past these, I find myself in an even bigger room. No, not a room. Definitely not a room.
Arched walls stretch endlessly forward, a lamp on each post of the wall. From cement, the ground has become stone bricks of different shades, forming a pattern that I still can't discern. Bones lie around in mass numbers, some skulls still with hair, other still draped by moth-eaten clothes.
Then as if sensing my presence, a groan then a roar resounds from the opposite end of the tunnel, then soon, the ground begin to shake. A skull rolls off its axis, stopping when it hit my shoe. With wide eyes, I stare at the approaching shadow-no, the pack of shadows, crawling and creeping towards me, until finally, under the eerie light of the lamp, I see the pink burned and boiling skin of the ghouls, their mouths frothing with acid, black beady eyes bulging as if about to pop out of the sockets.
Shite. Shite! Jeremy better gets his arse here! I'm not trapped in a cellar at all. I'm trapped in a ghoul infested tunnel!
Part 14 - Scene Four: Breaking Down the Wall
Scene Four: Breaking Down the Wall
Fruitcake and I didn't waste any more time by the time we finally decided on our new objective. The moment we arrive at the second flooring, we dash straight to the room where Sarah was kept this morning, kicking the door off its hinges. The room though is very much empty of our princess.
“Damn it,” Vicerra swears loudly, glancing around in panic. “She has got to be somewhere around here.”
“Look for some clues!”
“Reiner, we don't have time to play detectives!”
“You prat,” no, I did not sound like Selene, “we need to know if there's some sort of magical connection going on in this place. Find a circle or a diagram or anything that's out of the ordinary!”
Five seconds later, fruitcake is pulling my arm, dragging me over the huge hole in the wall made by my shotgun from my last visit. “This,” he says, pointing at the drawing on the wall beside the other room's doorway. It's a spirit transfiguration circle, used in summoning spirits from the Next realm. Normally, it should be on a floor so the spirit will be under the circle's protection. By putting it on the wall, that means...
“Shite.”
The summoner didn't summon the spirit. He pulled the spirit out of the Next realm!
“We need to find this summoner now!”
“Smart idea, genius,” Vicerra scoffs, hands perching onto his hips. “Any idea where?”
No, but I figure if Selene is with us, she would've figured somewhere to start.
That's it!
“Selene should know!”
“What...”
“Come on, fruit juice!” I drag him by the arm this time, running back to the staircase. “Let's go save your Amazonian sister!”
“You IDIOT-”
BANG.
The spot fruitcake and I should be standing by now is gone, as in it has a huge, gaping hole, its edges charred black like a thunder had just zapped through the roof and burned it. Shocked, Vicerra slowly creeps backwards, his cold, shaking hand clasped tightly around my bicep before he's finally hiding behind my back.
I scowled at him, glaring at him rather darkly. And he said he can take care of himself. What a fruitcake.
“It was about to kill us!”
“And I'm about to kick your arse!”
“Shouldn't you be paying more attention on how to cross that hole?!”
“And you shouldn't be hiding behind my back before I actually throw you over!”
And I did. Throw him right down the huge hole, I mean. He landed rather ungracefully on the stairs below, flat on his face before I jump down. But he must have predicted my plan, since he immediately rolled over before I could land on him.
“I never gave you permission to use me as your cushion!”
“Do I look like I'm asking for it?”
Another second more and he must have snapped with a catchy insult if it wasn't for the stairs to crumble and collapse beneath us, very much like what happened to Selene. Like what I always believe, once you find out how the bid bad boss does his magic trick, he'll be hell bent on incinerating you to ashes. That's what he's basically trying to do to Vicerra and us.
I wonder if we'll get to see Selene down here.
“Reiner! Over here!”
Snapping my head to the direction of the voice, I crawl away, scrambling up to my knees and sprinting to where Vicerra stood rooted to the ground. When I arrived at his side, I see why.
We're in the mouth of the tunnel, and Selene is smack dab in the middle, back facing us, surrounded by bald and butt-ugly man-eating ghouls. She's down to knives now, the silver blades stained red. She must have felt our presence, since her head suddenly jerked up, only to duck and dodge the huge open jaw of a ghoul.
“What the hell are those?” Vicerra whispers beside me, frightened out of his wits. I would be too, only if I wasn't facing the bane of my existence. Instead, I feel anger, the rage of seeing the very root of my suffering for the past eight years.
Images from a past long pushed away resurfaced, so many voices repeating inside my head like a broken recorder.
“We have to abort the mission, Reiner!”
“But we can't give up now! We're so close already!”
You... you've always been looking out to me, even if you never wanted to, even if you've been trying to kill me all these damn times.
“What happened to...”
“He's dead.”
“Rei-ner?”
“This wouldn't have happened if you aborted the mission!”
“Do I look like I have a choice?!”
“Yes! If we pulled out earlier, he wouldn't have gotten killed! Why are you always so self-centered?! You even dared to call yourself the best exorcist, the best hunter to ever walk London! You don't deserved to be called that!”
“Reiner! What's wrong?!”
“Shut up!”
“No! You shut up! You don't deserve to be who you are!”
“JEREMY!”
“SHUT UP!”
The lamps burst; the stone ceiling above us cracked, debris falling like snow. But all I can see is red in the midst of darkness, those red gnawing on a dead body, tearing out the flesh, feasting on whatever was left of the corpse. I hate them, the ghouls. They're the worst. They don't deserve to live. They shouldn't exist.
I pulled out my shotgun and blast off the first ghoul I see. The rest turn at the loud sound from the shotgun. I don't know anything about my surrounding anymore. All I care about is getting rid of these ghouls, of how precise I aimed the shotgun at another ghoul, of the shotgun pumping itself, loading another bullet, waiting for me to pull the trigger. The sound of the shell hitting stone is deafening; it makes my ears bleed, it reminds me too much of that night, of feasting ghouls and lifeless eyes and rivers of bloods.
My throat feels raw, parched, like I've been screaming for hours, screaming without taking a breath, screaming on top of my lungs, screaming all of my rages out. Yet the rage remains, and it will always remain, because I can never bring peace to this mind, not when vengeance is all I can think of, not when vengeance is all I can look at now with utmost seriousness.
Sarah has always said I never take things seriously. I think it's because I've stopped taking anything seriously.
Selene told me once my new self is a nice breathe of air, even if it's pretentious, and terribly faked. I think it's because I tried too hard to forget everything, even if I do not want to forget a single thing at all.
I told myself I can never run away from this, not until I finish that mission no matter how long it'll take. But I never let myself be brave, because I'm a coward through and through, like any man not born hero. I ran away, hid myself under the excuse of punishing myself. Self-exiled, they all called me, and I took it as my excuse. It would be better this way, I told myself, shying away from the real world, living life as a retired, wasting every day away, wondering if I'll ever regain my old spirit, wondering if I'll ever encounter that damn bastard who ruined my life.
I never planned anything when I returned to Elysian London. I never look up to anything when I agreed to every single job Sarah proposed. I just did them because I got tired, because I need a new breathe of air, like what Selene said.
I needed to get away from the past.
But I never escaped from the past. I tried, but I never can. I tried ignoring, I succeed, but I noticed it all too easily, all to immediately, in just a blink of an eye. Why? Why can I never be at peace?
Part 15 - Scene Five: Forgetting The Past
Scene Five: Forgetting The Past
For the first time in my life, I thought I was about to die. The ghouls all dived at me, sweeping past my head in such a speed, recovering from their missed attacks in the blink of an eye. I've fought a pack of ghouls once, but that was when I have the right weapons. Right now, my guns won't do anything good against these guys. I've wasted every ounce of magic on these guys. I've run out of shotgun ammo as well, and although that's a dozen I've killed with the shotgun alone, it's not enough to get rid of the rest.
Do you know what's the general average of ghouls in a pack? 50. So far, I've killed two dozens. The shotgun managed to take out three or two in one shot. Although Ebony and Ivory does a good job in obliterating another dozen, they don't really have the kind of gunpowder that can stop the ghouls from regenerating. I've never rationed ammo this much before. I'm down to knives now, and I don't know if silver will ever of much use against ghouls. If only I can get the lamp from its post, then I can do something about this.
I've never heard of regenerating ghouls before. They must be magically enhanced. The only way I can think of right now is fire. That's the only way to get rid of them, or at least stop them.
But alas, before I could even step to the wall, the damn monsters formed a circle around me, trapping me very well using their own body. Bloody hell. What's taking Jeremy so bloody long just to get here?
I'm screwed. I'm very much screwed.
BANG.
“JEREMY!”
My heart jumped at the first sound of flesh exploding, then the howling of the surrounding ghouls. It's my brother's voice I hear next, and when the shooting and the howling continued, I knew it's not going to end well.
I turn around and I see him, broken down, gone mad, just like then. I've never seen him like that for-what? Five years? It's been so long already. I've moved on. I thought he did. We both thought he did. But I guess deep inside, the wound is just waiting to be reopened, to bleed again and have salt rubbed all over it.
But no, that's not what's happening right now. The wound isn't being reopened. It's being torn open, and its burning and it's robbing him of his senses!
Someone has to stop him. He has to be stopped! He's not helping any of us! He's only going crazy-insane-and he'll only end up hurting himself!
Throwing aside the ghoul that's about to cling to my neck, and getting burned by acid in the process, I run and dive towards the prat, knocking off his gun before he could even pull the trigger and blow up a hole in my body. I've seen heads blown into bloody points at point-blank range. I don't want the favor returned.
With the butt of Ebony, I hit the side of the prat's head, the idiot hit the ground in a matter of second. In front of me, Mikhail gapes, completely dumbstruck.
“You've just relieved us of our only chance to survive those monsters!”
I stare at him blankly, panting slightly, then at Jeremy. A growl from the approaching ghouls had me turning around, only to find them too near for comfort. Any second from now, one of them can pounce and lunge straight for our throats.
Shite.
I grab the shotgun the prat had let go and quickly ordered my silly brother to find the bottle of peroxide that's bound to be somewhere in Jeremy's body. Mikhail wasted no time to ask any questions.
I'm not liking where my ideas are leading me, but if I guess right, then the end of the tunnel is our only exit. And right now, our biggest challenge is to get past these ghouls that doesn't seem to be running out in numbers.
“They keep multiplying!” Mikhail notes, one arm keeping Jeremy's bother near. “I don't think peroxide is enough to stop them.”
“We need fire,” I mutter, eyes glancing for a second to the lamp. It's too high for reach, and I can't think of anything to reach it-my eyes stray to my knives, at the silver tip, then back to where the lamp is hooked to the wall. Perhaps I can hit it with my knife?
“Selene?”
“I got an idea.”
Passing him the shotgun (and getting another stare of shock at the same time), I dart to the wall, another knife, this time a throwing knife and begin aiming it with precise calculation. I only have one chance with this. If I screw up, then Mikhail and I have to brave the pack of ghouls while carrying Jeremy's body, unless of course if he decides to wake up in the middle of it and actually help us get rid of the ghouls. (But judging from how hard I hit him, it'll be longer for him to get out of the cold.)
“Selene! You might want to hurry up!”
“Shoot them if you have to!”
“I don't like the sound of that!”
“You never do!”
With just one move of the arm and the flick of the wrist, the throwing knife is up in the air, flying in one straight line, aimed right at the hook. But the knife didn't hit the hook. Instead, it hit the base of the ring connecting the lamp to the hook. I could have never been happier.
Grinning, I watch the ring finally give up to the weight of the lamp pushed by gravity, then finally, the lamp hit the ground, its glass smashing into shards. Picking it up, I motion for Mikhail to get the hell out of his spot.
The ghouls shift their attention to me. Waving the lamp across me in an arc also have them backing away a little, although it'll only take a minute for them to realize it's actually harmless. But right now, when every second counts, I have to use this lamp to the best of my advantage.
Together, we carried Jeremy, an arm over my shoulder while Mikhail holds onto his waist. And slowly, we made our way sideways, our backs plastered to the wall as I hold out the lamp.
I need some sort of combustion agent to completely get rid of them, but something that's not as strong as gun power. I fear we'll get caught in the explosion if I use gun powder.
Dumbly, my eyes stray to the bottle of peroxide Mikhail's clutching on to. “Is hydrogen peroxide flammable?” I ask. Mikhail turns at my question, slightly taken aback. Then soon, he caught on and promptly gave me a better idea. “I have rubbing alcohol.”
I've never been so grateful ever in my entire life to my brother's rather obsessive-compulsive disorder with sanitation.
With our new weapon, I toss the content of the bottle at the ground in a straight line, then the rest at the ghouls, keeping the peroxide with us for a while. Who knows if we might need it later. I light the line of alcohol, and with the ghouls behind us, I throw the lamp over my head, hearing the sound of metal hitting stone then finally, the fast, widespread of fire, then the howling of the ghouls. In the span of seconds, a wall of fire had separated us from the monsters, and off Mikhail and I go, out of this dreadful place.
Right now, I don't care anymore if what's at the end of the tunnel, whether it may be the antihuman or not. All I care for is us out of here, away from those bloody monsters, and Jeremy conscious and sane again.
Part 16
Summary: Jeremy Reiner is a detective-exorcist prone to dangerous ladies. One of them is Sarah, a blonde agent from the Vicerra Corporation, head of Elysian London. With Hallow's Day just around the corner, spirits from the dead realm escape to the living world, and one of them might just be Jack the Ripper.
A/N: For Nano '09. w00t! Action time! I'm stopping here, as I've still yet to go over them again. So far, the wordcount had dropped considerably with the number of unnecessary scenes, like the monologues (lol Sarah). The Intermissions are down to just three too, from the original five lol. I guess even I would get tired of listening to these characters rant.
Part 11 - Act Seven: Lower London, Revisited; Scene One: Dearest Brother Dear
Act Seven: Lower London, Revisited
Scene One: Dearest Brother Dear
Equipped with our new knowledge, Selene and I race back to Elysian London. I can barely contain my excitement when I barge straight into the terminal room, making a few shamans jump out of their seat in shock before I run straight to fruitcake's office.
The doors aren't locked when I forcefully pushed them open, and I'm glad for once that fruitcake is actually around to hear me out.
“God damn it!”
He instantly swears the moment I slam the doors open, the golden doorknobs hitting the marble walls with a loud slam. But I don't care about cracked walls or paying for them. Heck, all I have in mind is to make fruitcake hear what I have to say, and seriously, what I have to say is going to rock his pants.
“I've figured it out!”
“What?” He screams back. Sarah's giggling like the girl she is. “I'm glad, then,” she says, smiling.
“The antihuman! I've figured out how to destroy it!”
“Splendid!” Fruitcake is being sarcastic again, but who cares? I don't. “Now go and look for it so you can finally get rid of it.”
“I need your head!”
“What-”
“He means your ideas,” Selene deadpans his brother. Good. She still remembers my slang. “And basically, your presence as well.”
“But-”
“Come on! Move it! I need you now! And you too, darling! I need both of your heads!”
Besides, I think it’s high time for Vicerra to breathe some Lower London breeze for a change.
Part 12 - Scene Two: Sarah Gets Captured Again?
Scene Two: Sarah Gets Captured Again?
Sarah is very hesitant of getting a mile near the inn. Fruitcake, in the meantime, is still throwing one of his spazztastic fits. And yes, that is a word. I said so myself.
“Why are we here?!”
Dear ol’ Sarah is being such an unreasonable damsel, and if only that old lady taking a rest from walking her dog isn’t around, I would’ve slapped her hard.
...and also if Selene isn't invisibly frothing like mad.
“Reiner, I demand that you take me back to my office!”
And I’m also enjoying this very much. Do take note that fruitcake is direction-illiterate when it comes to places outside Elysian London. Poor guy. I bet if I leave him alone in Upper London, he can make his way back. Given, of course, if he survives from getting kidnapped.
“Ease up, fruit juice. I need your brain here.”
“My… brain?”
The utter look of puzzlement in his face is enough to send me laughing my arse off, because there’s never a much stupider face than his.
“Reiner!”
Sarah sighs. For once, I’m grateful she hasn’t decided to kick my balls for verbally beating her boss arse. Yet.
“He means your idea. Please excuse his vocabulary. He can only go so far with it,” Selene says over her shoulder a few steps ahead of us.
The laugh stopped for the sake of a pride-sabotaging glare, which really fails to sabotage any pride left in me that’s untouched by Selene's cold, merciless words. This woman definitely gets off from insulting me. I have no further explanation on her fondness for such a trivial activity. (See? My vocabulary isn’t challenged. It just looks challenged because I’m standing next to an AI, her fruitcake of a boss, and his murderer of a sister.)
“Oh, never mind,” Vicerra sighs.
Ahead of me, I hear Selene sigh loudly. Ah, she must have finally given up a belief she's been clinging to. About bloody time. “Even up till now, I'm still amazed at how well and dear you name us.”
“You have to be,” because it's not that easy to come up with endearments, I'd like to add as well, but seeing fruitcake's murderous glare, I don't think he'll appreciate being called a fruitcake (or a fruit juice, or anything fruity at all) as an endearment.
“Anyway, how far is this Boswell Inn?”
“We're near it,” Selene answers for me, still keeping quiet as much as possible. I wonder if this has anything to do with fruitcake's presence. I've known her for eleven years, but none in that span has she ever mentioned to me about fruitcake. Does she hate him that much she completely pretended his existence didn't exist? Even I am not that cruel, if ever I'm going to hate fruitcake. In fact, I'd more likely to brag Vicerra around, even if what I'm bragging about isn't naturally to be boasted.
“But what are we doing here, Jeremy?” Sarah finally asks with a bit of skepticism as we stand outside the door to Boswell Inn. I shrug before entering the inn's lobby.
“The antihuman is taking residence in this place, which can only mean that the controller must be nearby.”
Even if the antihuman isn't around right now, we can still get some clues about it. No criminals, no matter how great or magnificent, don't leave traces behind. Even a devil is traceable just by its aura. It all depends on how good the detective is in deducting, and how sharp his eyes are. We're just lucky we have two of such detectives, the greater of the two being me. (Unbiasedly judged, this is.)
“But what if it's around, and it'll attack us again?” Sarah asks. Well, I can now see she's clearly not happy with our current arrangement. Can't blame her though, but too bad she doesn't have much choice now, does she?
Finally, with the kitchen door on sight, I signal the girls to grab whatever for defense. Simultaneously, both pull out their guns, Selene's being scarier and in pairs. Why have I forgotten her trigger-happy addiction? And no, I should not laugh at Vicerra's Firestar. (It's just that it's so bloody small and girly compared to the girls' guns!)
“Do we split up or not?” Selene asks, glancing around the place warily. The negative aura she's feeling must be stronger in here; definitely stronger than what I can feel. She's been more sensitive to aura ever since, which is why I usually accept her partnership readily, even if it'll cost me lots of months of recuperation.
I suggest checking the kitchen again, but she only shakes her head, saying she doesn't feel anything from it anymore. “It's as if everything is concentrated above us.”
“What about below?”
“None that I can feel of.”
“Alright, we go up then,” I say. Absently, my arm reaches for short silver sword I brought along, strapped to my thigh. It's usually very useful when fighting demons, but I don't know if it'll have the same effect on an antihuman. Let's just hope a little.
Selene leads the climb up the stairs, Sarah following then Vicerra trailing behind as I lead up the tail. If ever Sarah gets swept away again, I'll know by hearing fruitcake's scream.
As if reading my thoughts, Sarah suddenly screams, black tendrils of wisps shooting out from below ground and wrapping around her legs. Vicerra runs for it, lounging straight towards it and I have my gun safety-off already, but poof, she’s gone. Selene stood shell-shocked, staring at the space Sarah previously occupied.
Those tentacles shared the same black properties as the antihuman from this morning. Shits, don’t tell me she got kidnapped by the same thing again?
“Reiner, what’s below us?”
I snap myself out of my thoughts. Selene's checking her vicinity on red alert now, both guns facing opposite directions, but her focus is clearly on the stair boards.
This building is only three levels high. I’ve yet to enter the third, but I’m sure it’s just the same as the second; a long corridor with rooms on both sides. Now, if this place has a cellar, it’s either for storage or the heaters and pipes the power system.
Wait.
“There’s no door for a cellar here.”
“What? How can you be sure of that?”
I’m sure of it. I saw the lobby, and I hardly mistake what I see. Stepping off the stairs and going back to the lobby tells me that I still have to lose my touch, and that it’s impossible for this place to have some kind of passage to the cellar.
Unless it’s hidden. Covered, most probably, or something that looks camouflaged. It’s not that unusual now that I think about it; disguising the entryway to the cellar is a normal thing to do in decors, even when if the place is a cheap inn.
Then again, there’s also the thought that just because the tendrils came from below ground doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll go down, right? Instinctively, I look up, remembering the room where I found Sarah. I only realized why it decided to use the second to the last room instead when I was on the shower. The reasons are a lot, ranging from being less obvious to wanting to buy itself some time. As for the latter, I’m sure it’s just my mind’s usual far-looking conclusion, but I want to be safe than sorry with my excuses. But if it is the latter, then we have some serious antihuman case going on here, and maybe a far more dangerous mastermind. This thing controlling the antihuman has got to be smart and has everything planned to the smallest dot. This isn’t a work of any ordinary human-eating demon, and this definitely isn’t your ordinary poltergeist prank, special holiday or not.
I wonder if it will still be safe for us to split up. We might get another attack, even if I'm sure Sarah will make a good decoy. I don’t have a concrete idea on which level of this building is safer, and I’m not up to pushing Vicerra into any dangerous situation without my supervision. He’s the leader of a multibillionaire company, sincerely trying to patch up the bad ties between ordinary London and the freaky London. And he’s just an ordinary human, too, even more ordinary than me, considering that I’m an exorcist since my youth. In short, I have his safety and future to worry about. (Let's ignore the fact that I've brought him here to play decoy.)
“Let’s split up.”
What? “No.”
Vicerra glares at me, annoyed, probably. “Why not?” Angry, even. But hey, I’m not called Jeremy Reiner the Extraordinaire for nothing.
“I can’t put you under any harm.”
“Bollocks, Reiner,” Selene glares at me from the top of the stairwell. Shite, she must have caught another one of my thoughts. She never gets angry that easily unless I thought and planned something not quite nice. Between us, Vicerra is getting rather cautious, glancing from his sister to me. I don't like how wary and doubtful his eyes are becoming.
“What does she mean, Reiner?”
“I have no idea.”
“Don't shite with me, Reiner!”
Then suddenly, the ground shakes like mad, and before any of us could hold onto something, the step underneath Selene collapsed, taking her down.
“ROSENKREUZ!”
Then as if it's made of magic, the wooden step fixed itself, the hole now gone. Stupefied, Vicerra and I stare at it with fear. I don't think I like where this is leading us to.
“Damn it, Reiner, we have to split up!”
“No.”
He can sure be bloody persistent when he wants to be. Bloody fruitcake.
“I don't know about you, but I worry for them!”
“Selene can take well care of herself,” I mutter. Sadly, I can't say the same about Sarah. She didn't manage quite well last time-not that Vicerra has to know that.
“I know she can fend for herself, but I doubt how long she can defend herself.”
“Pipe it, fruitcake. No means no.” And for extra measures, I glare at him. But being the bloody persevering bull he is, he glares back, snarling so angrily he's practically screaming bloody murder through his eyes alone.
“I can take care of myself.”
For one moment, he sounds really sure of himself. But I don’t know. I’m not really the kind of guy who trusts classy, Armani-clad half-politician, half-businessman socialites to be well-able in the field of evil-fighting. I guess I have no choice but to sacrifice a little bit of Sarah’s safety for this guy. I’m sure she won’t mind; she’s his tracker after all, and trackers are meant to protect their charges without having to be ordered.
But no. I’m not risking my license and reputation for this guy’s satisfaction. I'm only willing to risk it if I'm going to prove a point (or a master plan, but I don't think I'll get to execute it anymore). “Forget it. We’re sticking together, whether you like it or not.”
“What gives you the authority to order me around?” Vicerra asks, incredulous as he gives me that stare that reminds me of our great social class difference. Honestly, does he think I actually give a bloody damn about that kind of thing? Pulling ranks on me is like tempting me with chocolates, which I do not like at all in case you’re missing the point here.
Maybe I should remind him of any exorcist-on-mission’s rule. “Your status is nothing once I’m in charge. This is my area of expertise, which basically means I’m the leader here.”
“And you seem to have forgotten that I am your employer. Without me, you won’t be handling this case at all.”
“But without me, you’ll be stuck in the gutter.”
I have to commend him though. He’s quite the tough nut. Easy to crack, yes, but hard to bite. Bugger, this guy is making me run for my money.
“Reiner,” he hisses, and I think it’s not the friendly kind of hiss anymore. “Stop being self-centered for once and be aware that you’re not the only exorcist in town. I can find better, more obedient and definitely less obnoxious exorcists than you, so don’t make me change my mind about you.”
“Then why are you keeping up with me?” I ask without any second thought. A blink, as if startled that I even dare to react like that, then he calms down. Like a volcano that’s about to erupt, already choking lava out of its mouth, only to suddenly get dampen by a gigantic, imaginary bucket of ice-cold water. It’s bizarre how a pompous man’s mind can work. Almost nonhuman like.
Even after a minute, when all those sixty seconds could have been used to search for Sarah gone to waste, Vicerra remains quiet, and I sort of got the hint now that he won’t be opening that mouth any time soon unless it is to give mandatory and precise orders. I’m not surprised either, for I know a man of great respect will always demand it from others, and will never bow down to anyone.
“Alright, genius,” he finally says, his bloody tone dripping with sarcasm. “Who should we save first?”
Should that even be asked? Goodness.
“Darling Sarah, of course. Who else makes a better damsel decoy than her?”
Plan to use fruitcake as a bait is now completely scrapped.
Part 13 - Scene Three: Six Feet Under The Earth
Scene Three: Six Feet Under The Earth
Coughing, I wipe away the shower of dust all over me.
Damn. That bloody monster just had to ruin my coat.
Looking up, all I see is nothing but wooden planks nailed together in a descending pattern. Ah, so that's the stairs, which means I'm currently buried underneath the staircase. Wonderful. I can't think of anything else smarter than this.
Grabbing Ebony and Ivory from the ground, I click off their safeties before firing directly at the stairs. If this thing brought me down here, then it can also bring me up there. The triggering didn't stop, not even when the guns clicked empty. Magically charged bullets hit wood, bursting the entire structure into dusts, and I waited until the cloud of dust dissipates to reveal the huge hole that should now be present. But the cloud didn't disappear, as it is supposed to be. Awed, I stare at how the dusts begin recollecting themselves, becoming solid then forming back into the wooden planks that they were.
Regenerating stairs.
“Fascinating.” Not even my Unnatural's power can break through it.
What a better way indeed to trap a menace in. But no, I'm not going to stay stuck here until Jeremy comes around to save me. (Then again, I wonder if he'll even bother saving me. I know he's always been tempted to leave me in the ditch as a payback.)
Holstering the twin guns and throwing my now ruined coat away, I step back from the stairs, heading deeper into my new cage. This must be the cellar Jeremy's talking about. The cellar with no doors. I almost snort in amusement. Definitely no doors alright, if you didn't know about the stairs.
I almost slipped ten steps away from my fall. There are three wide steps that leads down, and stepping past these, I find myself in an even bigger room. No, not a room. Definitely not a room.
Arched walls stretch endlessly forward, a lamp on each post of the wall. From cement, the ground has become stone bricks of different shades, forming a pattern that I still can't discern. Bones lie around in mass numbers, some skulls still with hair, other still draped by moth-eaten clothes.
Then as if sensing my presence, a groan then a roar resounds from the opposite end of the tunnel, then soon, the ground begin to shake. A skull rolls off its axis, stopping when it hit my shoe. With wide eyes, I stare at the approaching shadow-no, the pack of shadows, crawling and creeping towards me, until finally, under the eerie light of the lamp, I see the pink burned and boiling skin of the ghouls, their mouths frothing with acid, black beady eyes bulging as if about to pop out of the sockets.
Shite. Shite! Jeremy better gets his arse here! I'm not trapped in a cellar at all. I'm trapped in a ghoul infested tunnel!
Part 14 - Scene Four: Breaking Down the Wall
Scene Four: Breaking Down the Wall
Fruitcake and I didn't waste any more time by the time we finally decided on our new objective. The moment we arrive at the second flooring, we dash straight to the room where Sarah was kept this morning, kicking the door off its hinges. The room though is very much empty of our princess.
“Damn it,” Vicerra swears loudly, glancing around in panic. “She has got to be somewhere around here.”
“Look for some clues!”
“Reiner, we don't have time to play detectives!”
“You prat,” no, I did not sound like Selene, “we need to know if there's some sort of magical connection going on in this place. Find a circle or a diagram or anything that's out of the ordinary!”
Five seconds later, fruitcake is pulling my arm, dragging me over the huge hole in the wall made by my shotgun from my last visit. “This,” he says, pointing at the drawing on the wall beside the other room's doorway. It's a spirit transfiguration circle, used in summoning spirits from the Next realm. Normally, it should be on a floor so the spirit will be under the circle's protection. By putting it on the wall, that means...
“Shite.”
The summoner didn't summon the spirit. He pulled the spirit out of the Next realm!
“We need to find this summoner now!”
“Smart idea, genius,” Vicerra scoffs, hands perching onto his hips. “Any idea where?”
No, but I figure if Selene is with us, she would've figured somewhere to start.
That's it!
“Selene should know!”
“What...”
“Come on, fruit juice!” I drag him by the arm this time, running back to the staircase. “Let's go save your Amazonian sister!”
“You IDIOT-”
BANG.
The spot fruitcake and I should be standing by now is gone, as in it has a huge, gaping hole, its edges charred black like a thunder had just zapped through the roof and burned it. Shocked, Vicerra slowly creeps backwards, his cold, shaking hand clasped tightly around my bicep before he's finally hiding behind my back.
I scowled at him, glaring at him rather darkly. And he said he can take care of himself. What a fruitcake.
“It was about to kill us!”
“And I'm about to kick your arse!”
“Shouldn't you be paying more attention on how to cross that hole?!”
“And you shouldn't be hiding behind my back before I actually throw you over!”
And I did. Throw him right down the huge hole, I mean. He landed rather ungracefully on the stairs below, flat on his face before I jump down. But he must have predicted my plan, since he immediately rolled over before I could land on him.
“I never gave you permission to use me as your cushion!”
“Do I look like I'm asking for it?”
Another second more and he must have snapped with a catchy insult if it wasn't for the stairs to crumble and collapse beneath us, very much like what happened to Selene. Like what I always believe, once you find out how the bid bad boss does his magic trick, he'll be hell bent on incinerating you to ashes. That's what he's basically trying to do to Vicerra and us.
I wonder if we'll get to see Selene down here.
“Reiner! Over here!”
Snapping my head to the direction of the voice, I crawl away, scrambling up to my knees and sprinting to where Vicerra stood rooted to the ground. When I arrived at his side, I see why.
We're in the mouth of the tunnel, and Selene is smack dab in the middle, back facing us, surrounded by bald and butt-ugly man-eating ghouls. She's down to knives now, the silver blades stained red. She must have felt our presence, since her head suddenly jerked up, only to duck and dodge the huge open jaw of a ghoul.
“What the hell are those?” Vicerra whispers beside me, frightened out of his wits. I would be too, only if I wasn't facing the bane of my existence. Instead, I feel anger, the rage of seeing the very root of my suffering for the past eight years.
Images from a past long pushed away resurfaced, so many voices repeating inside my head like a broken recorder.
“We have to abort the mission, Reiner!”
“But we can't give up now! We're so close already!”
You... you've always been looking out to me, even if you never wanted to, even if you've been trying to kill me all these damn times.
“What happened to...”
“He's dead.”
“Rei-ner?”
“This wouldn't have happened if you aborted the mission!”
“Do I look like I have a choice?!”
“Yes! If we pulled out earlier, he wouldn't have gotten killed! Why are you always so self-centered?! You even dared to call yourself the best exorcist, the best hunter to ever walk London! You don't deserved to be called that!”
“Reiner! What's wrong?!”
“Shut up!”
“No! You shut up! You don't deserve to be who you are!”
“JEREMY!”
“SHUT UP!”
The lamps burst; the stone ceiling above us cracked, debris falling like snow. But all I can see is red in the midst of darkness, those red gnawing on a dead body, tearing out the flesh, feasting on whatever was left of the corpse. I hate them, the ghouls. They're the worst. They don't deserve to live. They shouldn't exist.
I pulled out my shotgun and blast off the first ghoul I see. The rest turn at the loud sound from the shotgun. I don't know anything about my surrounding anymore. All I care about is getting rid of these ghouls, of how precise I aimed the shotgun at another ghoul, of the shotgun pumping itself, loading another bullet, waiting for me to pull the trigger. The sound of the shell hitting stone is deafening; it makes my ears bleed, it reminds me too much of that night, of feasting ghouls and lifeless eyes and rivers of bloods.
My throat feels raw, parched, like I've been screaming for hours, screaming without taking a breath, screaming on top of my lungs, screaming all of my rages out. Yet the rage remains, and it will always remain, because I can never bring peace to this mind, not when vengeance is all I can think of, not when vengeance is all I can look at now with utmost seriousness.
Sarah has always said I never take things seriously. I think it's because I've stopped taking anything seriously.
Selene told me once my new self is a nice breathe of air, even if it's pretentious, and terribly faked. I think it's because I tried too hard to forget everything, even if I do not want to forget a single thing at all.
I told myself I can never run away from this, not until I finish that mission no matter how long it'll take. But I never let myself be brave, because I'm a coward through and through, like any man not born hero. I ran away, hid myself under the excuse of punishing myself. Self-exiled, they all called me, and I took it as my excuse. It would be better this way, I told myself, shying away from the real world, living life as a retired, wasting every day away, wondering if I'll ever regain my old spirit, wondering if I'll ever encounter that damn bastard who ruined my life.
I never planned anything when I returned to Elysian London. I never look up to anything when I agreed to every single job Sarah proposed. I just did them because I got tired, because I need a new breathe of air, like what Selene said.
I needed to get away from the past.
But I never escaped from the past. I tried, but I never can. I tried ignoring, I succeed, but I noticed it all too easily, all to immediately, in just a blink of an eye. Why? Why can I never be at peace?
Part 15 - Scene Five: Forgetting The Past
Scene Five: Forgetting The Past
For the first time in my life, I thought I was about to die. The ghouls all dived at me, sweeping past my head in such a speed, recovering from their missed attacks in the blink of an eye. I've fought a pack of ghouls once, but that was when I have the right weapons. Right now, my guns won't do anything good against these guys. I've wasted every ounce of magic on these guys. I've run out of shotgun ammo as well, and although that's a dozen I've killed with the shotgun alone, it's not enough to get rid of the rest.
Do you know what's the general average of ghouls in a pack? 50. So far, I've killed two dozens. The shotgun managed to take out three or two in one shot. Although Ebony and Ivory does a good job in obliterating another dozen, they don't really have the kind of gunpowder that can stop the ghouls from regenerating. I've never rationed ammo this much before. I'm down to knives now, and I don't know if silver will ever of much use against ghouls. If only I can get the lamp from its post, then I can do something about this.
I've never heard of regenerating ghouls before. They must be magically enhanced. The only way I can think of right now is fire. That's the only way to get rid of them, or at least stop them.
But alas, before I could even step to the wall, the damn monsters formed a circle around me, trapping me very well using their own body. Bloody hell. What's taking Jeremy so bloody long just to get here?
I'm screwed. I'm very much screwed.
BANG.
“JEREMY!”
My heart jumped at the first sound of flesh exploding, then the howling of the surrounding ghouls. It's my brother's voice I hear next, and when the shooting and the howling continued, I knew it's not going to end well.
I turn around and I see him, broken down, gone mad, just like then. I've never seen him like that for-what? Five years? It's been so long already. I've moved on. I thought he did. We both thought he did. But I guess deep inside, the wound is just waiting to be reopened, to bleed again and have salt rubbed all over it.
But no, that's not what's happening right now. The wound isn't being reopened. It's being torn open, and its burning and it's robbing him of his senses!
Someone has to stop him. He has to be stopped! He's not helping any of us! He's only going crazy-insane-and he'll only end up hurting himself!
Throwing aside the ghoul that's about to cling to my neck, and getting burned by acid in the process, I run and dive towards the prat, knocking off his gun before he could even pull the trigger and blow up a hole in my body. I've seen heads blown into bloody points at point-blank range. I don't want the favor returned.
With the butt of Ebony, I hit the side of the prat's head, the idiot hit the ground in a matter of second. In front of me, Mikhail gapes, completely dumbstruck.
“You've just relieved us of our only chance to survive those monsters!”
I stare at him blankly, panting slightly, then at Jeremy. A growl from the approaching ghouls had me turning around, only to find them too near for comfort. Any second from now, one of them can pounce and lunge straight for our throats.
Shite.
I grab the shotgun the prat had let go and quickly ordered my silly brother to find the bottle of peroxide that's bound to be somewhere in Jeremy's body. Mikhail wasted no time to ask any questions.
I'm not liking where my ideas are leading me, but if I guess right, then the end of the tunnel is our only exit. And right now, our biggest challenge is to get past these ghouls that doesn't seem to be running out in numbers.
“They keep multiplying!” Mikhail notes, one arm keeping Jeremy's bother near. “I don't think peroxide is enough to stop them.”
“We need fire,” I mutter, eyes glancing for a second to the lamp. It's too high for reach, and I can't think of anything to reach it-my eyes stray to my knives, at the silver tip, then back to where the lamp is hooked to the wall. Perhaps I can hit it with my knife?
“Selene?”
“I got an idea.”
Passing him the shotgun (and getting another stare of shock at the same time), I dart to the wall, another knife, this time a throwing knife and begin aiming it with precise calculation. I only have one chance with this. If I screw up, then Mikhail and I have to brave the pack of ghouls while carrying Jeremy's body, unless of course if he decides to wake up in the middle of it and actually help us get rid of the ghouls. (But judging from how hard I hit him, it'll be longer for him to get out of the cold.)
“Selene! You might want to hurry up!”
“Shoot them if you have to!”
“I don't like the sound of that!”
“You never do!”
With just one move of the arm and the flick of the wrist, the throwing knife is up in the air, flying in one straight line, aimed right at the hook. But the knife didn't hit the hook. Instead, it hit the base of the ring connecting the lamp to the hook. I could have never been happier.
Grinning, I watch the ring finally give up to the weight of the lamp pushed by gravity, then finally, the lamp hit the ground, its glass smashing into shards. Picking it up, I motion for Mikhail to get the hell out of his spot.
The ghouls shift their attention to me. Waving the lamp across me in an arc also have them backing away a little, although it'll only take a minute for them to realize it's actually harmless. But right now, when every second counts, I have to use this lamp to the best of my advantage.
Together, we carried Jeremy, an arm over my shoulder while Mikhail holds onto his waist. And slowly, we made our way sideways, our backs plastered to the wall as I hold out the lamp.
I need some sort of combustion agent to completely get rid of them, but something that's not as strong as gun power. I fear we'll get caught in the explosion if I use gun powder.
Dumbly, my eyes stray to the bottle of peroxide Mikhail's clutching on to. “Is hydrogen peroxide flammable?” I ask. Mikhail turns at my question, slightly taken aback. Then soon, he caught on and promptly gave me a better idea. “I have rubbing alcohol.”
I've never been so grateful ever in my entire life to my brother's rather obsessive-compulsive disorder with sanitation.
With our new weapon, I toss the content of the bottle at the ground in a straight line, then the rest at the ghouls, keeping the peroxide with us for a while. Who knows if we might need it later. I light the line of alcohol, and with the ghouls behind us, I throw the lamp over my head, hearing the sound of metal hitting stone then finally, the fast, widespread of fire, then the howling of the ghouls. In the span of seconds, a wall of fire had separated us from the monsters, and off Mikhail and I go, out of this dreadful place.
Right now, I don't care anymore if what's at the end of the tunnel, whether it may be the antihuman or not. All I care for is us out of here, away from those bloody monsters, and Jeremy conscious and sane again.
Part 16