Warning! You have been struck by a powerful necrotic curse. Necrotic curse has overwhelmed your tier one poison resistance.

Warning! Your body must consume biomass to combat this curse. Consume flesh or potent magic to accelerate healing.

Felix floated as if in a cloud, drifting in and out of consciousness. He was being carried. Then something hard was clamped onto his neck and he lost touch with the place in his mind where Status lived. He hadn’t known how closely tied to him that presence was to his well being until he felt it disappear. It felt like being ruthlessly torn from the embrace of his one and only friend. For the first time since being reborn, he was utterly alone. Then it was dark again.

When next he was semi conscious, he caught glimpses of his surroundings. A cave, a rainbow waterfall flowing upward, and in the wrong direction? Or was he upside down? They traveled down a long cavernous hallway lit by eerie glowing gems embedded into the walls.

There was pain in his side. It was getting worse.

Muzio’s voice, a harsh whisper, seemed far off in the distance.

“Wake up kid… wake up…”

What are you talking about? I am awake… I think…

Then nothing again. He was conscious but unconscious. Aware, but not in the world.

A scene played from… somewhere familiar. It was a memory? Yes, he was reliving a memory from the time before.

A pretty woman with a full, round face and a prominent beauty mark over her lip smiled up at him with green-flecked brown eyes. Eyes filled with love. She looked down and rubbed her prodigious belly tenderly. Then, she started humming a lullaby.

“Are you singing to your pumpkin belly?” Felix heard himself ask. His voice was deeper, familiar. More normal to him than anything he had experienced since being reborn. It was a man’s voice. His voice.

No, not Felix… my name was… ah, I almost had it. What was it?

He felt himself sink into the memory as he embraced the pregnant woman from behind. He felt the warmth of her body seep into his own like a nostalgic soothing balm that spread from his chest all over him. He breathed her salty, flowery scent.

“Are you calling me fat?” The woman asked playfully, shooting him a sideways glare.

“Well you are, aren’t you? A beautiful fat lady. Uh, that is, I mean phat like PH phat. Cool like a cucumber and more delicious than watermelon!”

“Ok, your jokes are terrible,” she said, slapping him in the arm. “Don’t you know it’s a cardinal sin to call a pregnant woman fat? As if the lame attempt at dad jokes weren’t bad enough…”

“Ouch,” he said. “I’m just trying to get a head start. You know, with the dad jokes? I want to make sure they’re extra terrible so that when our daughters are old enough to understand them, they can be extra embarrassed of their old man.”

“You want your daughters to be embarrassed?”

“It’s a dad’s job, isn’t it?”

“I thought you’d try and be the cool dad. The singer who dedicates a song to his kids from up on stage and takes them on amazing adventures on his tour bus. Minus the tour bus groupies, of course. Unless you count me.”

“…A cool dad who picks up his girls from school on a motorcycle?”

“Fat chance I let you buy a motorcycle.”

“Ah, is that like PH phat?”

“Ha, ha, very funny…”

Then Felix felt the color of the memory change. The world around him had been bright with humor and washed in the soft colors of affection and love.

Now the world turned blue and grey, tinged with a sense of sacrifice and regret.

“I’m leaving the band,” he heard himself say. “I’m jumping on board with Stan and his business opportunity.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I think we could do well. Think of it this way: If I can work hard now, and make the necessary sacrifices for our future, then I can make enough money so that neither of us needs to work. Then I can focus on my music and you can… well, you can...”

“You don’t even know what I would be doing with myself in this dream of yours?”

“Well what would you do? Whatever it is, it can be anything you want! And best of all we’ll have all the time in the world for the twins.”

“I don’t know… I’d have to think about it. Stan’s idea, it sounded like a get-rich quick scheme to me. Those things never work out in the end and someone gets hurt. I’d rather that wasn’t us. How much is it going to cost anyway? And you’ll really give up music?”

“We can’t raise our babies on my income as a musician. Don’t worry about how much it’s going to cost. We’ll make back our money with interest.”

“You could just get a regular job if you’re really worried about money. You don’t have to jump into some sketchy business opportunity.”

“What, you don’t trust me? It’s not a sketchy business when it works. Just relax. Everything will work out. Give me six months to a year. Then we’ll be set for life.”

The memory rippled. Like a stone tossed in the mirror, still waters of a placid lake. Then it began to fade.

Stop it! Don’t do it! It’s a mistake! You’ll lose everything. Everything!

Felix wished he could claw out the face and throat of the person who he had been. That idiot was about to make a huge mistake…

Wait… a mistake? What was the mistake?

He was beginning to lose what he almost remembered. He tried to hold onto something important. That woman. Honey brown eyes. That precious smile. Red cheeks. She was with child. No, not just one child. She was pregnant with twins. His twins.

The echoes of memory faded until only impressions remained. That and the self loathing, now directed at a past version of himself he couldn’t touch.

He couldn’t understand why he was so angry. What had he given up to pursue? Why had that been such a bad thing? He had the feeling there was a lie he told himself. A fear he never faced. A love he took for granted. And now he’d never have the chance to make it right.

***

Felix was jarred awake by the pain of being moved again. His nostrils were assaulted by the scent of burned and rotted flesh as massive, stiff hands ripped him from his cage and dragged him along the cave floor.

He caught a glimpse of a freshly bruised Muzio flailing about wildly in his cage.

“Idiot! Don’t drag him over the diagram!” Father Sandra’s spat. “Carry him over there, and chain him to the altar.”

Pain shot through his side, as the priest’s minion slung Felix over his shoulder. He carried him for a few dozen meters, then dropped him on a stone slab. A heavy chain was hooked into his neck collar and he suddenly became aware that he was wearing a suppression collar of his own now.

Through swollen eyes, Felix surveyed his surroundings.

He was chained to an altar in the center of an enormous dome-shaped cavern, with numerous crystals growing from the walls in different sizes.

Around him, in a wide circle, eight two-meter tall pillars of beautiful grey and blue crystal jutted from the cavern floor like too-perfect stalagmites. They pulsed with ultraviolet light, illuminating a painted diagram on the cavern floor.

Felix followed the lines and could see they were made into a geometric shape of some kind that met at each of the eight pillars, but it was too large for him to see from the ground. He could not see Muzio, though he could hear him struggling futilely inside his cage somewhere out of sight.

Looks like I’m all out of luck.

Felix took a deep breath and tried to sit, then gave up. His whole body ached, but mostly it was the foul smelling wound on his side that gave him a hard time. There, where Sandra’s spell had struck him, a sinking patch of dead skin the size of a fist was surrounded by a ring of tendrils of bright red flesh. As he watched, the tendrils pulsed, spreading for a moment before retracting again. It looked as if whatever had been done to him wanted to spread, but his body was fighting it. However, it wasn’t looking good. He could see his own ribs poking through his skin. He was skinnier than ever. It was probably a losing battle. His body would consume itself as it tried to heal him. If he didn’t eat something, he doubted his body could overcome it.

A tugging sensation at the back of his mind surprised him. It reminded him of what it felt like when Status had something to say. Except, he couldn’t feel Status anymore, could he? He was wearing a magic suppression collar. No, that wasn’t right. For a split second he had felt it. The strain of intention. Effort. A presence pushing against whatever it was that stood between him and his magic.

Well if you’re still fighting, buddy. I guess I shouldn’t give up either.

Despite the pain, he gritted his teeth and made himself sit up. He couldn’t move far with his hands bound and his neck chained to a hook on the stone altar, but at least he wasn’t prone.

Father Sandra was busying himself ordering each of his eight minions that had traveled with them to sit cross-legged in front of one of the pillars. He talked to himself while he worked.

“... cost me so much time and effort. So much wasted time. I have to make another soul lamp… Sit there. Now I put this on you and... We’ll show them the glory of God. Yes, they’ll see it… You, sit there. Here we go, let’s get that hood down and… And you… ugh, you’re a nasty one. The fire really did a number on you. We might have to replace your body later. It’s much too damaged. We’ll do it after the ceremony… Sit there.”

The priest draped each of the minions with a fresh vestment. It was a pleated, white sheet with a hole for their oddly sized heads, and complete with a hood. It reminded Felix of altar server garb. Before they were covered in their new raiments, however, the cambion finally got a good look at what the creatures looked like under their hoods.

Most of the priest’s minions had suffered wounds in their battle to leave the forest. And most had lost their black robes. Some were less damaged than others, but they had all been clawed or badly burned. None of them seemed bothered by their injuries, no matter the severity, nor did they have issues moving about as they quietly complied with the priest’s orders. Felix got a clear view to confirm his suspicions.

They were all oddly-proportioned Frankenstein’s monster-like creatures. With arms stitched together from what were obviously different corpses. Their bodies were a mass of flesh and protruding bone, held together by what could only be magical means. Most of their heads were male, but at least a few had once probably been female. It was hard to tell because they were hairless and bloated, with purple and yellow bruises for skin, and eyes that were lifeless and pointing in wrong directions. Some had no eyes at all and, like all their mouths, were stitched shut, suggesting they moved about using extrasensory means.

The minions were dead. They smelled like rotting corpses because they were rotting corpses.

Is this what became of all the other prisoners? Is this what that sicko wants to do with me?

“So your only friends are a bunch of dead flesh puppets, I guess that makes sense.” Felix said, doing his best to make himself sound cavalier despite his circumstances. “Please, if you’re planning on putting on a show, I’m not really into voyeurism or necrophilia, so I’d like a refund please.”

Father Sandra paused in fussing with the last minion’s raiments and turned to face him.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he said. “I was afraid that my curse would kill you before the ceremony was complete.”

“It seems I’m made of stronger stuff,” Felix said. “You’ll have to do better than shoot me with green wand jizz if you want to get rid of me.”

“Yes, I see that.” Father Sandra walked toward the altar, spreading his arms to either side like a performer gesturing for his audience to take in his stage. “I’m so pleased you’ll get to see the glory of God at work.”

“So this is the great revelation? A bunch of blacklight crystals and... what is that on the floor, blood? You’re going to try and turn me into one of those walking dead fleshbags, aren’t you.”

“And if I was? What would you do to stop me?”

“I could bite my tongue off or something. Maybe death is preferable to… whatever that is.”

“You lack both time and resolve to end your own life.”

“I must admit, I’d rather live. Biting off my tongue does sound quite difficult. I’d probably fub it up anyway. Why don’t you come closer and tell me all about your evil plans. That way at least you get to monologue and I get a better idea of what all this is for. You’ve already got me here. What’s the harm in letting me die a little less ignorant than I lived?”

Father Sandra sniggered.

“There’s no need to fear, little one. Soon all will be revealed. Your fate is to serve the grand design of our Lord.”

Father Sandra raised his hands in supplication, then began muttering under his breath.

Just when Felix was starting to think that he’d misread the megalomaniac’s tendencies, Father Sandra began to monologue. Just like the melodramatic villain he was.

“It began with a simple mission from my prince. To fulfill it, he gave me the beginnings of divine knowledge. Through His will, God bestowed upon the Great House Visconti power over life and death! God shall bless Milan with becoming the seat of the Holy Romulan Empire, I said! Yes, my prince! Yes, I shall do God’s bidding in the country. And now, the Lord on High hath revealed to me the sacred geometry to summon a powerful jinn. He hath expanded upon me the knowledge given to us by the red prophet. Now you shall have the honor to become more than another corpse in a flesh golem. You shall be the vessel in offering to a higher being! Through you, I will control the jinn. And use its power to cleanse this land in His holy name! He shall be…”

“Excuse me! Hey Sandy! Listen up. Hello? Yeah. Sorry to interrupt, but in whose name are you doing all that?” Felix asked.

“What?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear me. I’ll ask again. In whose holy name are you sacrificing innocent people to summon this genie thing? I thought you were Catholic for a minute. But now I’m guessing it has to be something else. I mean, you’re not really a zombie-making murderer in Jesus’ name, are you? Murder’s still a cardinal sin in this world, right? ”

“Blasphemer!” Father Sandra said, reacting a bit more strongly than Felix was expecting. “You dare use that name in vain? The Lord’s names are too great to be uttered by the likes of mortals. We must bow our heads in service and…”

“Alright, whatever,” Felix shrugged and laid back down on the stone altar, using the crook of his arm as a pillow. He wriggled to try and find a comfortable spot, groaning loudly until he found the right spot, then released an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, that’s it. Yeah… That’s the spot right there.”

Father Sandra stood with his mouth open mid-sentence.

Felix turned his head and donned a look of surprise.

“Oh, my bad, man. I didn’t mean to interrupt you again. Try and keep going. I’m listening. I swear. It’s just been such a long day and you looked like you were really gonna get going. So I figured I’d get comfortable. Maybe take a nap if it got too boring. So far you’re doing fine so don’t get discouraged, okay? You’ve got that creepy-fanatic-priest-with-a-twisted-ideology thing really working for you. So give it all you got. I’m here for you.”

Father Sandra actually did.

“You are to be privy to a great discovery, my boy. Heh, heh, heh. It has long been known by men of learning that the hexagram, also known as the Seal of Solomon, was a sacred symbol with the power to bind jinni. And yet, apart from the prophet himself, none have succeeded in designing the means to summon the jinni from other planes... The Lord hath revealed to me that the octagram, drawn outside the boundary… of the … is the… key…”

SNOOOOOOOORRRRRRREEEEEEE

Felix’s lay with his mouth open wide, head resting on a crooked elbow, legs crossed casually. He snored loudly. It was obviously fake, but no less disturbing for the priest, who finally showed his irritation by marching up to the cambion with an arm raised, ready to strike him. Then stopped himself before he entered Felix’s reach.

Felix had hoped to get a swipe at him, maybe a lucky bite. He wouldn’t get the chance.

The cambion didn’t know if his sudden tensing of his body had given away the game, or if Sandra had simply seen the weak ruse for what it was. His next words revealed it was more likely to be the latter than the former.

“You try and crawl under my skin, boy? You think I’ll lose my nerve, or make a mistake in foolish anger? You are a toddler. An infant. Mock me all you want, I will not allow you to stain my joy on this day. My faith is true.”

He then turned and uttered words in a language of power. The crystals in the circle glowed bright, shook with a discordant hum, then shot beams of purple energy to the ceiling.

Felix felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Whatever was about to happen, the ceremony had begun.