The Pentagram Child: Part 2 (Afterlife Saga Book 5) (7 page)

BOOK: The Pentagram Child: Part 2 (Afterlife Saga Book 5)
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And all from an honest tear shed in Hell.

 

I woke from the vision coughing out more blood I couldn’t afford to lose. But for some reason what the fates had shown me had restored some of my strength…enough anyway to raise my head from the pool it lay in.

Was that all it took to stop the Titans, one of my tears to fall at the mouth of Tartarus? Or was this all a trick and something that could never happen? If anything it left me more confused than before and questioning not only if the Titans had already been released or if I was even human?

I decided to go one step further and raise my body as much as I could with how battered and cut up it was. Having every old injury afflict me all at once was what I could only imagine was like being hit by a car, one that felt the need to back up and roll over  me a few times just to make sure.

It made me not only curse being a clumsy human being but also being one that was obviously a magnet for danger. My hands shook as I used weakened muscles to push myself up to sitting and the only benefit to this painfully slow movement was that I hadn’t alerted Alex to my conscious state.

He was stood near the altar as if waiting for a sign or something to happen. I could still see Draven’s essence floating there and obviously waiting for the rest of him to come back. Well I could sympathise as I was waiting for the same. I just needed him to come back to me now and bring back the proof I needed to know he couldn’t go through with releasing the Titans. No life on this Earth was worth more than the billions of people combined. I didn’t want to die by any means but knowing what sparing my life would mean wasn’t something I was willing to accept.

“Come on, what are you waiting for?” Alex snapped down to where Draven had been lay and I frowned as my suspicions were confirmed. He was waiting for something. He looked like a man possessed or one jacked up on drugs. He couldn’t keep still and it was more than just anticipation that had him biting at his fingertips and transferring his body weight from one foot to the other.

He was worried.

I closed my eyes as even I could feel time was getting closer to Draven’s crucial decision and I couldn’t imagine how it felt having the weight of the world on your shoulders. The realisation of what type of man Draven was caused me to suck in a deep and jagged breath. I knew he was a man of integrity and honour. I knew he could be kind and loving. I knew he could even be funny and damn but every girly cell in my body knew the man was the very meaning of sexy.

But what I didn’t fully understand up until right this second was what he had to deal with. It was how he maintained the balance that was so crucial to not only human life but his own kind. The concrete sense of duty that was ingrained within him. Almost like he was engineered for it and I was the spanner in the works that made him question his decisions and act irrationally for the first time in all of his forevers lived.

I was his Achilles heel and I could only pray to the Gods that I wasn’t the one that brought him to his knees.

“You can do this…make the right choice…”
I barely whispered the words but hoped their strength screamed out across the levels of Hell and were carried to Draven just when he needed it the most.

However I was soon to find it had all been in vain. Movement in the corner of my eye got my attention and I turned in time to see Draven’s essence jerk violently on the altar.

“What are you doing? Get away from him!” I shouted no longer caring if he knew I wasn’t unconscious anymore.

“About time!” He snapped and for a second I thought he had been waiting for me to wake. But when it became apparent that I was being ignored I knew this had been the sign he had been waiting for. He turned away and dragged something the size of a body from behind one of the pillars out of view. I could barely make any details out but I saw whatever it was he had covered in a dirty sack.  

He dropped his burden and snatched something up from the floor. Revoltingly it looked like a hip flash made from crudely stitched human skin and I had to repress the urge to gag.

He popped the top and started to empty the black liquid all over Draven’s spirit. It poured straight through the shimmering hue of Draven’s form and dripped down the symbols carved into the sides of the altar.

Each one started to spin and blur telling me something bad was about to happen. The whole sight made me feel sick and my head started to go woozy. The world tipped on its axis and it took me a moment to realise that for now, the world was fine. No, it was just me that was falling. I felt my head slap to the floor for the second time and I closed my eyes to wince against the pain. I knew that due to my injuries I didn’t have long but still wondered what was happening now to evoke such a response. It was as if something had passed through from the other side and I had the sickening feeling it wasn’t who I was desperate to see.

I peeled back my lids in trepidation as one would do when knowing what they would see was going to haunt them. Like watching a scary movie and opening your eyes right before the crucial point the fleeing character is going to get an axe in their back. It was the horrific face of a killer that seemed to imprint onto your brain and flash up in your sleep when you were at your most vulnerable.

Either way I knew what I needed to do and when I opened my eyes I found I didn’t need to be asleep to be at
my
most vulnerable. Because I was now the one staring at the horrific face of a killer and this one was straight from my past.

His bare feet were the first thing to come into view. Black dyed skin that looked like they had been dipped in ink stepped closer towards me. The flesh looked as torn up as the trousers he wore and large chunks of skin were falling away almost like the body had begun to rot.

“No…no… What have you done Draven?” I said letting my shoulders slump and feeling the tears force their way out of the corner of my eyes the tighter I held them shut. I tried to forbid what I knew would be the sight of Sammael coming closer by closing my eyes and refusing to look. But the tears wouldn’t be held at bay as now I had proof that prayers to the Gods and hopes of the heart meant nothing. Not in the presence of madmen that would stop at nothing until the Earth was nothing but ash and bone.

“Look at me.” The demand came and went without my compliance and I half expected pain to follow in sight of my refusal.  

“It’s about time we met again.” The voice changed from the last one and suddenly it wasn’t his order forcing me to look I had to contend with, no, now it was my own order
not
to look I battled against. 

 

 

 

“Nn…no…noo…its…it’s not possible!” I said a
s
I looked up at the face of evil, one that wasn’t holding an axe ready for my back but he held a smile that looked far more deadly for my mind.

 

Because my nightmare past was back and this time…

 

He would get to kill me.

 

“Morgan.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Draven

 

 

Chapter 50

Summoning

 

 

 

 

After feigning my shock at Sammael’s actions I turned back to the main problem at hand…

“Damn scorned Gods.” I said aloud, shaking my head and calling forth my weapons. I stormed towards the enemy with more purpose than ever before and only came to a stop as the first wave was breaking free.

“Well at least I am not fighting giants.” I said rolling my neck and readying myself for what was no doubt going to be the hardest fight of my many lives so far. Pretty soon the lava was completely gone from around their feet and the first three stumbled a moment before finding their footing in the open space. It reminded me a bit like an arena and now all I was waiting for was the spectators to get their asses down here and get involved.

As if my thoughts were all it took I felt the ground to the left of me shake as a body landed on his feet.

“I didn’t think that stench of a low-life latrine would ever fucking leave.” My father said patting the dust from one shoulder.

“You really need to get with the times Asmodeus. When was the last time that was said…Mid second century AD?” I asked just as I saw more bodies drop from their hiding places above.

“Shakespeare had nothing on Apuleius.” My father responded with a wink.

“Well I can’t argue with his novel The Golden Ass, not considering the protagonist of the novel was named Lucius.” I replied on a smile.

“Do you really think this is the fucking time to be talking Greek literature with Daddy dearest?” Sigurd snapped rising from landing on one knee.

“Show some respect!” Ragnar growled at his son after landing next to him.

“Whatever old man, let’s get this shit over with!” I frowned at the disrespect he not only showed me but more so his own kin. But then I looked sideways towards my own and realised I was not one to judge.

“I apologise for my kin, my Lord.”

“It is fine.”

“Not a problem.” I and my father both said at the same time then turned to frown at each other.

“He was talking to me!”

“He was talking to me!” Once again we continued the theme and annoyingly said our defensives in sync.

“Tell me you two aren’t at it again are you?” My sister said once her and her husband Zagan both landed at my side. Neither of us had chance to answer her question as the first three finally reached us. They all hit out at the same time and our natural instincts kicked into gear as we branched off into three groups of two.

The commander of my guard readied himself for war whilst his Son, the Snake Eye showed off the full extent of his own gifts. Th
e
Ouroboros that inked his skin started to spin and merge as one until half his body was a black tattoo. It freely branched out from his hands and attacked the Titan opposing him. The black tentacles caught the Titan in a web of power and it screamed its frustrations out to its brothers, ones ready for the fight and those that were still coming round from an eternity of sleep.

“Sometime before the world ends old man!” Sigurd said fighting to hold on and because of it, launching more liquid rope from his hands. Meanwhile Ragnar was in the process of covering his fleshless skull marred with the holes of every snake bite he had received as a mortal king.

The two twisted horns broke through his back and grew up over his head creating a solid helmet over his face. The horns combined and met with each other, interlocking at his chin like a bone beard. His size had at least tripled, giving him the greater advantage over the mortal sized God. 

Only his determined eyes could be seen and they pinpointed the enemy with two tiny white dots in the midst of his pulsating fury.

“BE READY BOY!” Ragnar warned, bellowing at his son before he charged at the confined Titan, one still caught by Sigurd’s tangled net of shadowed power. My lead commander lowered his head and ran at the God like a charging bull. Sigurd timed it to the last second and just before his father made contact all his tentacles evaporated. Ragnar hit him with such a force the Titan had little choice than to fly backwards and bouldering into his awakening brothers like pins from a bowling ball.

My sister and her husband were having just as much success working together as Viking father and son. I can’t say I was surprised to see my sister’s cracked caked skin of the desert sands flake as she smiled in her obvious fun. If there was one thing we all shared as a family it was the joy to be found in fighting what we classed as an equal foe. And husband and wife were no different.

I had seen them work as a team before but never noticed how much it resembled a violent and deadly dance. Each move was executed so precisely that it led into blow after blow with a natural flow. He spun Sophia around by the hands and her feet smacked into the chest of the Titan sending him back a foot. Zagan then used the butt of his double sided scythe to first force him further back, then with spinning motion, repeatedly started to strike the God down with the double blade.

The Titan had no choice but to be forced backwards unable to see the danger he walked into…one being a fearless and deadly but dainty, demon sibling that undoubtedly had a bloodthirsty taste for violence.

So with her being positioned behind the unsuspecting Titan she jumped into a handstand before launching herself up to latch her legs around the God’s neck. Then with little more than a readied nod, Zagan threw his scythe towards his wife. She in turn threw her body weight backwards and with her powerful hold on his neck he had little option than to fall to his back.

She rolled at precisely the right moment, reached up and plucking the provided weapon from the air, slammed the blade into the Titan’s chest. Its black stone body cracked from the impact around the blade and left a sizeable, crumbling hole when my sister wrenched it free.

It wouldn’t kill him but it didn’t make the skill of her combat any less impressive. Oh it would at least slow him down for a moment, which really was all we had to work with. And it certainly gave me a moment to feel proud of my little sister for the bravery and power displayed.

“I think we’re up my Maru.

Asmodeus said with a grin, calling me his ‘son’ in Sumerian.

“I would say you are right my Abum” I replied following suit and calling him father in the same ancient language. Then I turned my head to see he was certainly right…It was our turn to play with the Gods.

I waited for my father to turn into his natural form and was surprised when this didn’t happen. The Titan had stopped before reaching us to watch his brothers be pushed back and now needing the time to repair the damage made to their stone bodies. So he decided to take us on using a different approach.

“Oh this is going to be interesting.” I said dryly as the Titan found what he was looking for… a weapon of his own.

“Remember the horde in Budapest?” I grinned at the memory my father invited.

“Oh they were the good old days.” I said getting into the position my father needed me in.

“Shit yeah!” He shouted as the massive, flaming boulder was hurtling towards us. My father lowered his stance, bent one knee to the ground and with his back straight, he thrust his hands forward and clasped them together in the sign of prayer, one of a very different kind. Then just as the boulder would have smashed into him, he tilted his hands and thrust them forwards out straight.  He then called forth one of his gifts and turned his body to Hell’s red granite starting at his straightened fingertips.

There was nothing in all the levels of Hell stronger than Hell’s red granite, so the boulder had no choice but to split on contact, sending two pieces of flaming rock in opposite paths. As they flew left and right I ran full speed up my father’s now granite back and used it to propel myself off towards the Titan. The momentum of the fall helped drive both my blades into the heart of the God, causing him to fall and me to land with my feet on his chest.

One spin backwards and both my blades were free and I landed back next to my father. He moved at a much slower rate in this form but one blow was all it took to crack the next Titan’s body. Of course none of our efforts in fighting would ever be enough to kill the Titans but all I needed was time. A time that the Gods needed to repair themselves could just be enough if my plan worked.

What I had hoped to be the case was confirmed every time we sent one back a step broken but I knew once they were summoned back to the mortal realm their powers would be unstoppable. Down here they were still weakened by what heavenly power remained in the Lost Temple of Olympus.

It was why the keystone had shown me them destroying their last weakness but until that power was returned then they were merely a shell of what they could be and what they once were.

Of course that didn’t make this any easier, not when the rest of the brothers started to come around and join the fight. Pretty soon it wasn’t just one on one but in some troubled moments it was two on one.

“We can’t hold them much longer!” Sigurd shouted after using his shadows to fool two Titans into lashing out in the wrong direction and hammering into one another.

“We need more time!” I shouted back in the midst of swinging my swords and crushing the ankle of one Titan and then swinging up in time to take the arm of another, before it took my head off.

“Aww but are we not having fun though!?” Sophia said in jest before she picked up the severed arm and used it as a bat to knock back another Titan coming at her. Then she discarded the stone limb altogether for what she deemed as a more advantageous weapon. Using a lava cooled stalagmite she ripped from the ground, she swung it round and tripped up one of the Titans. Zagan then at the ready drove his weapon into the body and waited for his wife to repeat the process.

“Here’s one for you Viking!” My father shouted to Ragnar as his body slammed sideways into one of the Titans charging at him. This sent him crashing to my commander and the force caused the Titan to fold at the waist around Ragnar’s head, cracking him nearly in half.

It was frustrating to see the efforts of my side to then watch as the Titans merely fused back together. No injury inflicted upon them was enough to stick and I didn’t know how long we could keep them back for.

“Sophia!” I shouted my warning too late as the first of us received retaliation in the form a blow to the face. The Titan had hit her hard enough to dislocate her jaw and both father, brother and husband bellowed in rage at the sight.

Zagan rushed to his wife’s side and my father cleared a path for me so I could take out the one that had touched her. I skidded underneath one Titan as my father dealt with him and came up underneath the one I’d set my sights on. My blade went up and impaled his body in a way that even made me wince with the thought.

I twisted my body up and retracted my sword at the same time, freeing it from the depths of the Titan. I then kicked its healing form away before going to my sister. I lifted her face up to see it had almost healed fully and I knew she was fine when she stuck her tongue out at me before she snapped,

“Stop being a damn girl Dom and go and kick some ass!” I winked at her and not being one to disappoint a lady’s request I did just that.

“Does anyone else think this is going to get fucking old and quick…? I mean these bastards just won’t die!” Sigurd said after hitting back at yet the same one he had put down not long ago. The Shadowed King was right, we couldn’t keep this up much longer…but my plan was missing one vital piece. 

“We just need…!” I was cut off as I put my fist through one of the Titans expecting him to crack only to have my worst fears confirmed when my hand went straight through him. I watched in horror as the Titan I was fighting started to disappear from this world, which could only mean one thing…

 

“Sammael has started the summoning!”

 

 

 

Keira

 

 

 

 

 

“You want to lift the curse...? But why? We should just kill her now and…”

“NO!” I listened to this argument play out still suspended in a state of shock. I was currently sat up against a pillar after being placed there by the rotting hands of a stalker I thought long dead. I was trying to convince myself this was all a trick. That this must be down to some kind of hallucination due to blood loss.

“Now do as I say and lift the curse!” The voice of both Morgan and Sammael seemed to merge into one and I wanted to tear my ears off just to save me the pain from hearing either.

“Fine!” I finally decided to open my eyes and witness this little drama. I actually gagged at the sight of Morgan. Not just because it was obviously his corpse that had been somewhat supernaturally preserved by Alex, ready no doubt for this very day. But mainly down to the mental issues I had not only scarred into my flesh but also my mind. All those days of torture by those hands was something not easily forgotten.

Oh we could try and force those thoughts into the forgetful wasteland buried in the depths of our minds but they still managed to cling to the surface, latching on with merely a single word spoken. The smell of damp concrete or the bitter sweet sounds of that damn music box were more than enough for those nightmares to latch onto.

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