Dead and Kicking (16 page)

I was really getting tired of passing
out and then waking up somewhere else.
There was commotion all around me but I’m not sure whether it was the
noise or the burning pain in my shoulders that woke me up. I opened my eyes only to find that I appeared
to have been transported to Egypt, or at least behind the scenes for a dress
rehearsal of
Aida
.

I was in a large warehouse space that
had been transformed to look like something right out of Giza. Along the back wall were life-sized wooden or
cardboard cut outs of palm trees and the silhouette of the pyramids in the
distance. Closer to the foreground on
the side wall, was a partial 3-D replica of the Sphinx. A wide set of stairs led up to the raised
stage area, where I found myself secured by chains between two pillars, my arms
raised above my head. No wonder my
shoulders were aching after having to support most of my weight while I was
unconscious. I was luckily able to get
my feet underneath me and take my weight, relieving the strain on my arms. The chains securing me to the pillars now
hung loosely but a quick test proved they were well secured. I wasn’t going anywhere.

I looked around the stage area. It appeared to be modelled after the entrance
to a temple, the pillars and faux stone archways etched with
hieroglyphics. There were several large
sarcophagi off to the far side of the stage where there also appeared to be
some sort of brazier. The centerpiece of
the stage was a statue of a green-skinned man holding what looked like a
shepherd’s crook and a whip or flail set high on a pedestal. I took a wild guess and figured it was supposed
to be Osiris.

DiCastro had really gone all out for this little spectacle. There seemed to be a flurry of last minute
preparations going on. I was just
thinking that no one had noticed that I was awake when Holly stepped onto the
stage.

I blinked in surprise, hardly
recognizing her. She had changed her
hair to jet black and styled it to look like Liz Taylor’s Cleopatra, turquoise
beaded braids hanging down on either side of her face. She was dressed similarly to me (I don’t know
what happened to the McQueen gown, I just hoped that I wasn’t expected to
return it) in a white sheath dress with straps at the shoulder and a high waist
that gathered in under her breasts. It
was more of a ‘bought the slutty Cleopatra costume at the Halloween store look’
than authentic ancient Egyptian attire though.
The difference between our two outfits was that hers was made from a
gauzy see-through material; it left little to the imagination. She was also adorned with several display cases
worth of ancient Egyptian jewelry around her neck, wrists and upper arms.

“Good, you’re awake. I’d hate for you to miss a moment of your
impending death.” The expression on her
face was one of evil glee. She strode
across the stage and frowned at me.
“You,” she said, gesturing to a passing man, dressed in an Egyptian
kilt. “Tighten those chains.”

The man disappeared behind me and the
slack on the chains was pulled in, my arms raised above my head.

Holly sneered at me. “What’s the matter Harry? No snippy comeback?”

I wish I could say I had a real
zinger response, but all I came up with was, “You’re not going to get away with
this Holly.” Yeah, lame I know, but it
was all I had.

Holly laughed. “Really Harry, is that the best you can do?”

“No! No, no, no!” DiCastro’s
voice sounded angry, echoing across the empty space. I watched him cross the cavernous warehouse
shaking his head. He was dressed like an
Egyptian prince in a pleated, white kilt.
His chest was bare and he wore gold cuffs on either wrist. Around his neck a wide, turquoise and gold ornamental
necklace flashed in the light. He had a
large ceremonial dagger tucked into the front of his kilt and I recognized it
as the same one from Bryce’s video. He
was followed by several similarly, although less extravagantly, clad men. I glanced at Holly as she watched him draw
closer and the expression on her face alternated between love-sick puppy and
fearful, abused wife. “No, it’s all
wrong. Where is the altar?” DiCastro stormed up
the steps to the stage followed by his entourage.

“Levy, my love.
What’s the matter?” Holly
approached him demurely. She reached for
his arm only to have him brush her off.

“I told you to prepare her for the
ritual.” He turned to glare at me, the
dark kohl lines under his eyes giving him a menacing look.

“I..,” Holly stammered.

“Where is the altar?” DiCastro interrupted as if Holly hadn’t even spoken. He turned to two of his cronies. “Find the
altar back stage and bring it out.” He
swung back to look at me, his eyes lingering on my body. I was very glad my dress was not as
see-through as Holly’s. He turned back
to look at Holly, truly seeing her for the first time. “Your hair looks ridiculous,” he said with a
scowl.

Holly patted her hair nervously. “I’m sorry, my love. I thought you would enjoy the look for the
ceremony.” Her hair slowly morphed back
to her beach bunny blonde. She had a
look in her eye like a beaten dog. I
almost
felt sorry for her.

DiCastro grunted at the change and then eyed the rest of Holly’s costume
critically. “Give me your
necklace.” He held out his hand.

Holly’s hand flew to the gold jewelry
she wore about her neck. It was shaped
like a snake biting its own tail. “I…I
thought…”

“That’s the problem. You’re not supposed to think.” DiCastro scowled at
her as she unclasped the necklace and handed it to him. “This is the necklace for the bride of
Osiris.” He moved to fasten the necklace
around my neck.

“The bride?” Holly looked
confused. “But I am to be….”

A commotion from behind interrupted
her as four men pushed a large wheeled dolly carrying an altar block across the
stage. The altar had been made up to
look like a single chiseled stone with iron rings sunk into the surface at the
four corners. DiCastro
smiled when he saw it. “Perfect,” he
said. “Move it over here, then secure the
girl to it. We must prepare to start the
ritual the moment the sun has set. At
the anointed time I will mount the altar and take my chosen bride, then
sacrifice her heart to the god.”

Oh joy. I wasn’t just going to be murdered by a crazy
person, I was going to be raped and murdered by a crazy person. Could it get any worse?

“But Levy, I don’t understand.” Holly reached out to stop him. “I am to be your bride, not her.”
She looked at me with venom. “Why would you want to fuck her?”

DiCastro laughed and grabbed Holly by the throat, his hand cutting off her
airway as he pulled her close, face to face.
Holly scrabbled at his hand, her feet barely touching the floor, her
face turning red. “You’re right, you
stupid cow. You don’t understand.” He shook her like a rag doll. “You were never anything but an easy fuck and
a means to an end.” He drew the dagger
out from his waist.

“No!” I shouted, realizing what he
was about to do. “DiCastro, stop.”
I couldn’t help myself. No matter
how betrayed I felt by Holly, I didn’t want her dead. I pulled at the chains holding my arms and
kicked out at the nearest man as he approached me.

DiCastro began to mutter an incantation and the dagger started to glow. Suddenly, he plunged it into Holly’s
stomach. He released her throat and she
bent double over the blade then slid to the floor.

“No!
Holly!” Tears stung my eyes.

DiCastro stood over Holly’s body and took a deep breath. A wave of power rippled over him and the look
on his face was ecstatic. “Yes! I can feel that worthless bitch’s power. It’s mine now.” He turned to look at me and smiled. “Just like yours soon will be,
my bride.” He brought the dagger to his
lips and licked Holly’s blood from the edge.
“Clean up this trash and prepare the girl. We begin at sundown.”

I watched in horror as he strode away
across the stage, revulsion sending shivers down my spine. For the first time since waking up after
being translocated from Dante’s, I began to feel truly defeated. How would I ever get out of this nightmare?

I admit I sort of zoned out for a
while after Holly’s death. It was too
much of a shock to process everything and I think my brain just sort of shut
down for a bit. I don’t even remember
struggling when the men released the chains from the pillar and reshackled me spread-eagle on the altar.

I’m not sure how long I lay there
when I realized that the sounds around me were getting louder. Dozens of people, all dressed in Egyptian
attire, had begun to fill the space around the stage, milling about and murmuring.

A man, dressed in the robes of an
Egyptian priest, walked across the stage and lit the large brazier. The flame sprang to life just as a gong
sounded from somewhere behind me. The priest
raised his arms in benediction and the crowd grew silent. Quietly at first, then growing louder and
more fervent, the crowd began to chant, “Asar, Asar.” Over and over
again they chanted the name of their god.
The chanting became frenzied as DiCastro
stepped out from behind the statue of Osiris, flanked by two jacks.

He stood in front of the crowd at
centre stage and raised his arms. The
crowd instantly fell silent.

“My friends!” DiCastro’s
voice echoed through the large space; he must have been using magic to enhance
the sound. “My friends, tonight you are
present to witness the birth of a new regime; a new power for Riverton, for the
world!”

The crowd cheered. Clearly they had also been drinking the
Kool-aid
in
copious quantities.

“It is the night of the new
moon. A night for rebirth, when we will
see our Lord Asar restored to his rightful place on
this plane.”

Another crazed cheer erupted from the crowd and DiCastro paused for a moment, basking in the adulation.

“Years of planning and preparing have all come down to this night. We have
already made such great strides. Our
numbers continue to grow, thanks in part to your recruitment and that is why
you have been rewarded today the privilege of witnessing our Lord Asar’s rebirth.”

More crazy fan applause followed this pronouncement. DiCastro motioned
to four men dressed as priests who proceeded to join him on stage.

“And thanks to our brothers, who have
lent their talents and skill to help us begin to assemble our army, an army
that will defeat not only the mongrels but the bloodsuckers as well.”

The crowd cheered loudly as the four
men raised their arms. Suddenly I was
overcome by the sense of dread that I had learned to associate with the
appearance of zombies. Sure enough, from
the side of the cavernous space by the Sphinx, a door opened and an army of
zombies shuffled out, two by two. There
must have been close to a hundred of them.
They shambled along, their gait closer to a walk than a
shuffle. The mages that had raised these
zombies were getting better at it and were exhibiting impressive control over
their creations. The zombies stopped
behind the crowd giving the appearance of standing at attention. The cheer from the crowd this time was
somewhat subdued as the people gathered around the stage eyed the zombies
cautiously.

“Don’t be alarmed my friends,” DiCastro continued, sensing the crowd’s unease. “Our army of undead will protect us from
outside interference as we begin the ritual.”
He raised his arms again in benediction.
“Join me now my friends. Join me
in prayer as we call to our fallen Lord, so that he might rise again.”

DiCastro began to chant in a foreign tongue. Having never heard ancient Egyptian, I can
only guess that that’s what it was. Soon
the crowd fell into step, carrying the chant along. After about five minutes, DiCastro
lowered his arms and signalled to the four men again. He turned and sat on a throne that I hadn’t
noticed before, carved into the base of the statue of Osiris. The crowd continued to chant, some of them
with their hands in the air, swaying to the tempo of the chanting. The air around the stage began to feel thick,
the magic being released by the incantation almost palpable. I could feel their zealous frenzy building
and I sucked the power into myself greedily.

The four men moved across the stage
and returned a few minutes later, each dragging an obviously drugged person
along with them. Judging from their
dress and general grubby appearance, they were some of the missing homeless. They came to a stop in a
line in front of DiCastro who rose to his feet, the Dagger of Asar raised above his head.
He began to chant again, his voice booming out over the drone of words
coming from the crowd below the stage.

When he approached the first man to
be sacrificed, I closed my eyes not wanting to witness what was about to
happen. But that’s when it hit me,
someone needed to witness the atrocities that were about to occur. I owed it to these poor people who trusted
Holly and were betrayed by her just as badly as I was, only to be slaughtered by a
lunatic with aspirations of god-hood.

I opened my eyes just as DiCastro drew the dagger across the first man’s
throat. There was a momentary lucid look
of surprise in the man’s eyes, as the arterial spray of blood splashed across DiCastro, then he slumped to the
floor. DiCastro
raised his arms in triumph as a wave of power rushed into his body, his
ecstatic, blood covered face a macabre sight.

The grisly scene was repeated three
more times until nothing on the stage was left untouched by the spray of blood,
including me. With each new kill, the
magical energy multiplied. I could feel
it throbbing like a beating heart. My
face was spattered with blood and I licked my lips
without thinking, only to be rewarded with a rush of power like I had never
felt before. The warm, coppery taste was
euphoric. It sizzled against my tongue,
as I drew the magical power into my core.
It was like nothing I had ever experienced. I closed my eyes against the onslaught of
feelings warring inside me, euphoria with a large chaser of guilt. How could I be enjoying any part of this
slaughter? What was wrong with me? The sight of blood should have sickened me
but instead I hungered for it.

My mouth suddenly ached, the pain
almost excruciating. I opened my mouth,
flexing my jaw like I was yawning to try and alleviate the pain. When I closed my mouth again, my tongue
brushed against something that hadn’t been there before. What the hell? Since when did I have fangs?

“
Harry! Harry! Can you hear me?
”

Great. Now I was hearing voices
too. I looked around frantically. DiCastro and his
cronies were still basking in the glow of their latest kill. There was no one else nearby.

“
Harry,
what’s happening?
”

“
Isaac? Isaac is that you?
”

“
Yes
Harry, it’s me. Something has
happened. Why are you suddenly so
strong? I could feel you faintly before
but now you are shining like a beacon.
”

“
I
don’t know. DiCastro
is performing some sort of blood magic.
It’s…it’s affecting me somehow.
You have to help me Isaac. He’s
going to kill me.
”

“
We’re
on our way Harry. Hold on. And….and try not to
drink any blood.
”

“
Too late.
I licked some off my lip. It tasted so good and now I have fangs. Fangs!
What the hell is happening to me?
”

“
It’s
okay Harry. I’ll explain everything to
you. Just hang on. We’re almost there.
”

“
I
hope you brought the cavalry because there are over a hundred zombies on guard
duty.
”

“
The
cavalry is coming. Nash says you better
be in one piece when he gets there or he’ll kill you himself
.” I laughed at that, in spite of
everything. It was obviously impossible
for Nash not to bully me.

The temporary feeling of relief I had
that a rescue was on its way, was short lived.
When I opened my eyes again, I was startled to find DiCastro
standing beside me. His skin was red
with the blood of his victims, his face frozen in a rictus grin. With total revulsion I realized that his free
hand was moving rhythmically under his kilt, wrapped around his erection. He ran the dagger slowly down my chest,
slipping it under the dress to cut the fabric apart, exposing my breasts.

“Soon my bride, soon the moon will
reach its zenith and we will become one with the god.” He leered at my breasts then ran the dagger
back up towards my face, wiping the blood off the blade on my cheek and lips.

“The only thing you are going to
become one with is your own death, you crazy asshat.” I turned my head away from the sight of him,
just as a warning bell began to sound.

“No! No, there are intruders in the
building,” DiCastro turned and yelled at the jacks
that until this point had remained motionless on the stage. “Stall them.
We need more time to complete the ritual.”

The jacks moved with uncanny speed
across the stage and disappeared from sight.

“
Isaac,
if you can still hear me, look out, there are two jacks coming your way
.” I could only hope that Isaac still had a
channel open to me and heard my warning.

“You’re too late DiCastro. You don’t have enough power to complete the
ritual.”

“No, I won’t be stopped.” DiCastro glared at
me with a crazed look in his eyes then turned to the priests. “The zombies, use
the zombies and kill them all.” His hand
swept out over the chanting crowd. “I
can channel their deaths. It will be
enough power for the ritual.”

The zombie masters moved to the edge
of the stage. A few of the closest
chanters must have heard DiCastro’s words, because
they began to panic and try to escape from the mob. The zombies moved in, tearing the chanters
apart. Blood and gore splashed across
the floor and the chanting was soon replaced by screams of pain and terror.

DiCastro stood with his arms raised, a look of ecstasy on his face, as he
drank in the death magic. There was a
momentary pause when a commotion broke out at the back of the building and a
door burst open. A stream of vampires and werewolves, many in their deadly half-were form, rushed in.

“Kill them! Kill them all!” DiCastro screamed at the four priests, pointing at my
rescuers.

The zombies turned and began to
attack the werewolves and vampires.

“No!”
I shouted, searching the crowd for a familiar face. Where was Tess? Where were Isaac and Nash? I struggled against the shackles holding me
down on the altar, anger pulsing through me.

Suddenly, a half-were burst through
the door locked in battle with one of the jacks. For some reason I knew that it was Nash. His half-were form was impressive, over seven
feet tall and all muscle and claws covered in a thick, dark fur. He was bleeding from multiple wounds and
appeared to be favouring his left arm.
The jack looked like it had taken a beating, but wounds wouldn’t slow it
down. The two combatants faced off,
oblivious to the chaos around them.

“They’re too late,” DiCastro crowed, pulling my attention away from the fight. He heaved himself onto the altar, straddling
my hips. “Your powers will be
mine.” He fumbled with my skirt pushing
it up my legs. He pushed his own kilt
aside exposing his now flaccid penis. He began to stroke himself vigorously with one
hand, grabbing my breast and squeezing it painfully with the other.

“Nash!” I screamed in panic and bucked my hips trying
to dislodge him. There was no way this
was happening. I struggled against my
bonds, throwing all my strength against the metal shackles.

“Harry!” Nash’s voice carried across
the chaos. “Hang on, Harry.” I turned my head to see that Nash was moving
closer, trying to cross the space, but the jack was in pursuit, slowing him
down.

“
Harry,
the zombies, use your powers.
”
Isaac’s voice whispered in my head.

Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? I looked across the large space. There were still over half of the zombies
left, battling with the dozen or so werewolves and vampires. If I could send the zombies back where they
came from, the battle would be over. I
closed my eyes and tried to push everything out of my head and just focus on
the zombies. It was easier said than
done with DiCastro masturbating on top of me. Luckily, after having a hard-on for the last
hour, he seemed to be experiencing a technical difficulty.

I focused on the zombies and pictured
them returning to dust. Taking a deep
breath, I tried to slowly release my will but my body was supercharged after
all the magic I had absorbed during DiCastro’s ritual,
so rather than the focused stream I had intended, it burst from me and roared
across the entire space. The zombies
exploded into dust and the cavernous room fell eerily silent.

An aftershock of power rocked the
stage and the altar shook like it was an earthquake, tossing DiCastro off me to the floor. One of the pillars toppled over nearly
landing on the altar and in that moment I felt the power resurging through me
like a shot of adrenaline. I pulled against
my restraints, the magic coursing through me as first one, then the other, tore
free from the altar, the shackles still bound to my wrists, the eye-ring bolts
they had been attached to dangling uselessly.