《Short Stories》Devotion
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It clattered across the floor, yammering closer until a hefty kick sent it crashing into the far wall. A grimace crossed his face, features twisting as he examined the still twitching skull.
"I hate those things," he muttered, disgust scrawled across his face like the work of a particularly deranged stonemason. "Don't understand how anyone can stand them."
He stomped towards the remains, casting angry glances at me. Why he would blame me, I don't know - he had insisted we investigate this room. Cobwebs festooned the ceiling, walls and most of the empty space as well, testament to the age and status of the crypt. Quite how spiders always manage to create such vast empires with such a seemingly scarce food supply never ceases to amaze me, as you'd think a spider wouldn't be able to create such a lavish tapestry to collect food without a ready and substantial source of sustenance. Maybe the spiders work together, forming trade agreements and -
The sound of splintering bone broke the air of the chamber, the grinding of plate boots onto stone scraping me from my thoughts. My charming companion continued to obliterate the shards left by the skeleton, intent on erasing any sign of its existence beyond a powder smeared on the floor. I grimaced at his back, weary of his abrasive nature, yet again wishing he wasn't necessary.
Four weeks to reach this dump, cold and damp worsening the expedition beyond normal. Four weeks of ill-tempered grunts and growls. However, the rewards for patience were almost at hand, hidden from the world for an age but soon to be in reach. All that was needed was to bring this lout to the deepest chamber. A few skeletons had blocked our way so far, petty creations half corroded by time and embalmed by their passage through the corridors to reach us. Tunnels of torn webs showed the way forward, matching exactly with the research I had conducted.
"Come on, we can't waste time. We've got to keep moving," I reminded him, eyeing him as I waved my torch towards the door. "Or we'll end up trapped with these monsters."
"Abominations!" He spat, whirling round to glare at me again. Blue eyes shone with fanatic zeal as he stomped past me. "Monsters can be trained. Abominations can only be crushed."
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Neutrality had served me well so far, and I endured another storm of abuse as his tirade began to echo down the halls, touching on the subjects of evil, good, abominations, and their cause. I followed his broad frame as he stalked along, maintaining my disposition as his raged beyond control.
His enthusiasm had surprised me at first. I had merely assumed that he was a soldier of fortune, handily fallen into monster-hunting as a reliable trade. It had, of course, become apparent it was a calling for him - he viewed himself as a bastion of purity - cleansing the evil from the world - and apart from his manners, it was true. My normal acquaintances were of a more dubious quality, taking the stance that philosophy played no part in life, only in decadence. I am, naturally, paraphrasing. I doubt half of them know the word philosophy, let alone the meaning.
As we descended into the lower depths of the ruin, his roar reduced, becoming once again a grumble, and then a tight-lipped grimace. The walls were now looming in, a primeval tunnel hacked into the bedrock of the earth. Cobwebs became rare - as thought the spiders themselves were scared to venture into this dead space. As we crept forward ever slower, a sense of doom began to coil through the air, cold snakes wrapping past us. I saw him shudder, momentarily caught off guard by the oppressive atmosphere. I resisted a smirk as I cowered behind him. He had been right earlier - what was contained here was abominable - and he wasn't prepared for it.
"Foulness," his mutter drifted back to me, shaking a little, "can't... won't let this be."
"Ye-yes," I stammered back to him with a more pronounced quaver, "it has to be... "gulp" confronted."
He glanced back at me, the disdain and dislike tempered by a smattering of respect at my unexpected courage. His beard twitched slightly, as a tremor of fear swept across his face, before settling into its customary grimace. A brief nod, then we continued on, footsteps puncturing the silence. I rolled my eyes at the idiot. Soon, he would have his chance.
Our torches cast flickering shadows across the bare walls, bone-dry phantasms chasing and fleeing us. The effect was eerie and encouraging, for though we ventured into near-forgotten secrets, those secrets were also swallowing us without a trace. One secret I had uncovered gave the reason and need for my 'escort'. It had taken time, not to mention effort, to put the pieces together but I had, and my success revealed the key to this place.
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My key finally edged into a large cavern, circular and lined with empty alcoves. The floor was carved with conical patterns, leading to a central dais engraved with shimmering metal. The design seemed alive, catching the eye and leading it along it endlessly. I shook my head, and watched as my companion shambled forward, entranced as if by a siren. His jaw was slack, gaze unfocused. I slipped along behind him, quietly retrieving the torch he had dropped. He stopped just short of the heart of the room, moments away from fufilling my purpose.
I waited, trembling with the excitement built up through years of hard work and longing. His doom and my ascendance were just an instant away. With a glazed look, he drew his dagger, absently turning it as he stared mesmerised. I leaned forward, eager to see the culmination of the last ten years. A spray of blood, then a gushing torrent as it was ripped from his body. He shook, his eyes wildly darting, the spell broken at last. I ignored his agony, focused on the rapidly forming waterfall of crimson congealing in front of him.
A face formed in the wild stream, disappearing a moment later as other limbs materialised and melted. His body dropped to the floor, dessicated, devoid of the vitality that had sustained him. Instead a figure was slowly creating itself from the maelstrom formed of his essence. A hand thrust foward, drops of scarlet cascading off and whirling back to the main body. Another arm, then legs, each diminishing the total left and any excess returning.
Soon enough all of it was consumed and a full creature stood upon the dais. I knelt, eyes locked on it as wine-red robes became apparent and flesh began to form. Bone white hands lifted as onyx eyes shot open, transfixing me. Cascades of ebony hair ripped from the crown of its head, rippling silkily down its back. I whimpered, as unprepared for its beauty as he had been for his fate.
A dark chuckle broke from its grey lips, giving a glimpse of pearlescent teeth, and filling the room with a dreadful symphony, echoes rebounding and building. I shook, unable to look away or even move, caught as surely as a hanging man. Silver gleamed upon its elegant fingers as it reached toward me, held by deviously deep eyes. I rose with its hand, captivated and trapped. My mind buckled under its gaze, crumbling before the intense scrutiny, leaking my thoughts without any hope of survival.
***
When I came to later, the cold floor was digging into my back. I was alone. The torch had long since gone out, now cold to the touch. I glanced around the room, noting the dullness of the dais, devoid of its earlier allure. I stopped on the sight of him - shrunken and leathery. He had a gaping hole in his chest, his heart ripped out so brutally it had excavated his entire torso. His eyes were even more like sapphires, cold as the grave and twice as grim. They stared at me as I edged closer, hesitant to do what I longed to do.
I felt changed - the dark seemed little barrier to me, and an even colder detachment than normal enveloped me. I could sense the power in this place more clearly, even with the absence of it, and its terrible glory. More importantly at this moment, I could feel him circling, impotent and ethereal, railing at me for my betrayal.
I reached for him, instinctively extending my grip through the material and latching onto his soul. He squirmed, terror and loathing at the invasion consuming him as I thrust him towards the corpse. He screamed then, a pitch beyond my physical hearing, yet resonating through the cavern. The body buckled, stretched and convulsed. I drowned his horror with my will, cementing his servitude and suffering in implacable certainty. The body stilled. I stepped back, examining my first true working.
This went beyond the pitiful experiments I had attempted before, vermin and bugs, barely managing to complete the process and losing control within moments. This was what I had desired and hoped for. True necromancy. My first skeleton stood before me, hate and unending despair subjugated by obedience to me. His soul screamed relentlessly, total abhorence of his state consuming him. I smiled. It was a start.
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