The Warrior's Beckoning (7 page)

Frank’s Sacrifice

THE GLASS CYLINDER
closed around me, sealing me in. There would be no escape from this.
What have I stepped into
? Daniel and David appeared dead in their glass prisons, and I awaited my execution—willingly, though it was frightening nonetheless. Knowing that it would merely be the death of my body gave me the courage I needed to hold back the urge to scream.

Energy had surrounded both Daniel and David, and as their bodies slid to the floor of the chamber, a swirl of energy and light—the rift, I assumed—appeared at the top of their chambers. Now, as I felt myself slipping loose from my body, shedding my old self like shrugging off a coat, I welcomed that same energy sparking around me. I didn’t want to go back. I was not afraid. I could no longer feel my body. As if in a dream, I was pulled into a void, and I saw the body that had been mine sink down against the glass.

The rift sealed behind me, leaving me in complete darkness…for a moment. Then a light came from below and stretched through the void, carrying me as it went, a bubble moving in a tube of liquid light surrounded by blackness.

It should have been much more than anyone could handle, yet I was perfectly at peace, even knowing that a scene of terror awaited me at the end of the tunnel. And suddenly, there it was: an altar…a dark
mass surrounding a bloody boy…a father restrained by two cloaked figures.

The Drifter lay sprawled and bloodied in the distance, dead. He had followed the entity to the encampment and, assessing his options, taken his own life, knowing it was necessary. He had always known.

As I was thrust into his body, I heard the weeping of a mother and daughter. The demon had released his hold on them so he could watch them suffer.

In my new body, I stood quickly. My legs felt rubbery but young and strong. I picked up the musket from the ground, feeling a strange power within me waiting to be unlocked. I sprinted toward the altar, where the boy’s body had been claimed by a dark mass, transforming him into the creature we battled in the woods. I paused to take careful aim from the edge of the camp. I fired and hit one of the cloaked figures holding the father, who grabbed the falling figure’s hood and yanked him toward his other captor. Their heads met with a loud crack, and both fell.

“LET HIM PASS!” the creature called out. The cloaked figures trembled at the terrible voice and stepped aside.

The father grabbed his musket and pistol and ran toward the Drifter—toward me, screaming in fury. “You! You abandoned my son and me to this evil fate!” As he reached my side, he stared in confusion at the slick of blood that drenched my nightshirt and trousers. “Now, when it is too late, how dare you show your face?” the father asked in a saddened voice.

“I am a different man now,” I said. He shook his head, not understanding. How could he?

I stared at the creature, wondering how I was meant to stop it. The father was looking at me with equal parts amazement and fear, and I looked down. My hands were glowing. Could that be the strange power I had felt? I raised my right hand and made a fist, and the light fused into a brilliant white ball. Without thinking, I hurled it at the
approaching creature. As it struck the encroaching shadow, a shadow mist was released from its form.

The creature stumbled and snarled. I looked at the father. “Your family was under its control. They have been released now and await you to the south. Go to them.”

“And my son?”

“Wait for him. He will be there soon. Run.”

He scrambled away, and I turned to face the creature again. It charged. It was the same as the first encounter: massive. As I sprinted toward it, it swung its crushing arms at me. I jumped several feet into the air, hurling a ball of light at its chest. Again it roared and stumbled, crushing several of the cloaked figures nearby as it staggered. It charged once more, and I rolled between its legs and threw a ball of light at its back. It pitched forward, shrieking in frustration.

Yet despite my efforts, the creature barely slowed down. I needed to hold on until the family escaped. As it lunged for me, I jumped onto its head and sent a quick barrage of light orbs into its skull. It roared and thrashed, knocking me to the ground. I rolled and recovered, firing another volley of shots into its face.

The creature merely laughed. “A commendable effort,” it said. It laughed again.

I gathered up all my strength and hurled a large ball of white energy into its gaping maw as it laughed. As I did so, a black mist spiraled from its back, unnoticed by the creature. The creature was too busy rearing back to crush me.

My best was nearly done. Had it been enough?

Ghost Hunter’s Descent

THE COLD FOG
followed me as I headed toward the tunnels. How long could I evade the entity? Its laughter echoed in my mind or in reality—I couldn’t tell which. I felt a shadow following me. Its cold presence entered the recesses of my mind as I moved stealthily through the forest.

I reached the husk of the house where my ghost-hunting team had encountered the walking dead. I found Sarah and Joe—their bodies, that is—still and cold. Their skin was gray, their eyes black.

What would the entity do to them? Would it turn them into zombie types, too? I shuddered at the thought that I might have to battle my old friends. While I tried to put these dark thoughts out of my mind, I saw a scene, like a memory, play through my thoughts—a glimpse of those who had lived in the house long before:

A mother in a tight-waisted cotton dress, which reached nearly to the floor, tucked her daughter into a small, white iron bed and pulled the quilts up to her chin
.

      
“Mommy,” the girl said. “Where’s Daddy?” The girl could not have been older than seven
.

      
“Daddy is doing his best for us,” her mother said quietly
.

      
“But where is he?” the girl asked again
.

      
“In our hearts,” said the mother, kissing her daughter’s cheek gently. “Don’t worry. He won’t abandon us.”

      
The two took no notice of my presence in the room. I stood outside the glow of the oil lamp, but I was fairly certain that although the scene was taking place in the mid-1800s, I was standing near them in another time entirely. Nevertheless, I could feel their fear as strongly as if it were my own
.

The scene vanished, and the present-day setting returned. The room remained in a state of decay and sorrow. Two skeletons lay where I’d seen the mother and daughter just moments before—one child-sized set of bones on a rotted mattress and one adult, collapsed over the moth-eaten quilts as though to protect the child. A cold wind entered the crumbling home, followed by the fog, and immediately the mother’s body rose and grabbed me. My heart raced.

“Please! Find a way to save my daughter!” she pleaded, sobbing. I nodded slowly, trying to back away. How could I bring her back? It seemed well beyond my power.

“I’ll try, but I don’t know—”

“Shh!” The mother looked over my shoulder. “He is coming. You must go!” A distant laughter followed. She released me and waved toward a large wardrobe in the dark corner of the room. She disappeared from view as I hid inside. Distant whispers seeped into the wardrobe. The entity had entered and was searching.

“Where are you?” it asked, sounding petulant. Through a crack in the door I could see it turn toward the wardrobe and approach slowly. “Could you be hiding?”

My heart hammered so loudly in my chest I feared it would hear me, but the entity stopped and turned, looking at the tunnel entrance. “So you have chosen to run,” it said as a shadow darted past the entrance. The entity disappeared into the tunnel, chasing after the shadow.

What was it that helped me? Slowly I opened the door of the wardrobe and stepped out. Both skeletons were gone, as were the bodies of my friends. Which of them had drawn the entity away? I slipped to the entrance of the tunnel and peered in.

A cold hand grabbed my shoulder. “Go quickly, my friend,” Joe said. “You must catch up to the entity. It holds the key.”

I was speechless. Joe was dead, yet there he was, instructing me. Was there another entity, a friendly one, inside Joe’s body? My question was left unanswered as Joe released me and vanished. I didn’t look back. The tunnel was mostly dark, dimly lit only by a light that would not reveal itself.

As silently as possible, I walked quickly into the tunnel. A cold fog billowed from the darkness. The entity was near. I crouched low in the darkness and stayed still. With the fog came those whispers. The entity approached me and stood near.

“What are you doing?” it said, kneeling not far from me. “Do you believe me to be evil?” Its laughter echoed. Did it know I was there? If so, why was it not attacking? I heard quick footsteps deep in the tunnel. The entity rose and followed the sound.

I waited a few moments before following the entity. From the shadows, Sarah spoke to me. All I could see was her outline. “There is a greater force at work here, my friend. You and the entity are opposite sides of the same coin. You are the lock, and it is the key.” She disappeared after she spoke. As I continued through the darkness, I pondered her words. I had no idea what she was trying to tell me.

The tunnel led to a dead end. As I turned, I came face-to-face with the entity. The fog around the entity began to dissipate, and its voice was near. “There is no time,” it said in a tone that sounded almost like concern. “I had hoped that by destroying this place and everything within it, I could prevent his entry.”

“Whose entry?” I asked with confusion.

“Darkness incarnate…” the entity replied. “What I am and what I have done pale in comparison to this entity. Something is changing. I
am losing power. However, with the power I have left, I will return the girl to this world. You must get her out of here before the darkness can consume her.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There is no time to explain. You have no choice but to trust me.” The entity raised its hands, and what fog remained to its form massed around it, and the entity vanished. In its place stood the little girl I’d seen in the iron bed.

“Mister?” she asked in a frightened voice. “Have you seen my daddy?”

The entity…who had he been before he became the fog creature? Had he been her father once? Perhaps the father from the Civil War log entry?

“I don’t think so. I don’t know where he is. I’m sorry,” I said gently. “Please, come with me.” I extended my hand to her. She took it, and we walked away. What light remained began to fade. Darkness was coming.

The Soldier’s Descent

WITH MY COMBAT
knife drawn, I ran through the dark forest. It was quiet this time. The only movement I noticed was the handful of shadows that shifted to watch me pass. Just outside the clearing, I spotted the entity and stopped to observe it before it became aware of my presence. That turned out to be just moments. The shadows surrounded the clearing, focusing on the creature.

I stood and approached the creature. It turned and watched me as I neared but made no move against me. Instinct instructed me to stand down; emotion told me to attack. I stopped ten feet from it.

“I’m sorry,” the creature said to me. “Acting under the influence of the fog entity, I have killed so many.” The creature’s voice was thick with sorrow. “There is little time. A darkness is coming that seeks to consume everything within this place. The ghost hunter is attempting to recover Hope from this darkness, and you must hold off these creatures for as long as possible. Go!” The creature vanished into a black cloud. The shadows that had massed around the perimeter of the clearing pulled back and swarmed toward the tunnels.

I took off in a sprint, knowing I could not get to the tunnels before the shadows in time to fend them off. Perhaps I could draw them away instead. The creatures had funneled into the shell of a house, leaving
me no way to enter from there. But if I could reach the bunker…I moved through the dark trees, whispers of fear and doubt echoing all around me. When I reached the bunker, I found it scarred from battle. Inside, I snatched up the BAR, checked the clip, and stocked up on ammo. There was a third exit from the tunnel, the mine entrance. I entered the tunnel and activated my head lamp.

The creatures had either not yet breached the tunnel system or they were being uncharacteristically coy about it. I dashed through its twisting corridors toward the old section, where I encountered the ghost hunter.

“They’re coming from multiple directions,” he said. “I’ve got to draw them away.”

“Away from what? The…
thing
…talked to me. It told me you were ‘recovering Hope.’ What did it mean?”

“Hope is a little girl. I’ve got to draw them away from her. I sent her ahead,” he said. “The Spirits of Decay are coming…I can feel them.” He peered into the shadows that danced around us.

I readied my rifle, but he placed his hand on the barrel and pushed it away. “Get out of here!” he said. “They’re attracted to me! Save the kid! Go!”

I knew I had no choice. I couldn’t hold off the dead spirits as well as the shadow creatures. I left the ghost hunter behind. As I ran into the darkness, I heard him scream, and I turned to see the Spirits of Decay surrounding him. Their scythes tore into him, diminishing his spirit with each swipe. I spun around and ran.

The creatures massed behind a wooden door. The corridor had two ways in—or ways out. I was fairly certain that my only way out was death, but I was determined that it wouldn’t come easy or be for nothing. The creatures’ screeches grew louder as more of them arrived, ready to attack.

Well, I wasn’t ready to allow them the pleasure of shredding me. I was all that stood between them and the girl, and I would not allow them to pass without an all-out battle.

I kicked the door open. The creatures froze at my frontal assault. “Come and get it, you bastards!” I opened fire with the BAR, driving them into the narrow tunnel. Slowly they gained ground, crossing over their dead to reach me. With each inch gained, I moved back, pausing my fusillade only to reload. Each time I had to slide a full clip into the rifle, the creatures gained more ground.