Lucius dived to the side and rolled into a crouch behind a tall, marble pillar. Rounds crashed into the fountain where he had been concealed only moments before. The chalky-stone burst into clouds of white mist and droplets of cool water fell about him.
“Be careful Lernaean, you might hit me,” he laughed, the sound of his mirth dancing along the pillared walkways that surrounded the plaza.
A frustrated shriek followed from beyond the mosaic steps that led into a tall, domed temple and Lucius moved again, darting from cover as the heavy weapon barked, coughing salvos of destruction in his wake. The marble pillar buckled and chunks of the smooth stone were chiselled away. Gauging that he had only moments before the column would topple and bring a segment of the ornate roof down, Lucius sprinted on, reaching the shadows of a low wall that lined an immaculate flowerbed.
Why do you run, his weapon cannot harm you?
He paused, hunkering down behind the thick brick partition, the sound of his heart thundering in his ears. “Can it not? How do you know?”
There was a brief pause before she spoke again. Why would it, it is only an assault weapon?
Lucius chuckled, he had never felt so alive, so strong. “Then let us end this now,” he sprang to his feet and sprinted for the temple’s steps.
A tall figure standing in the entrance gripped a long barrelled rifle. The weapon was so big it had to be clipped onto a harness that its bearer wore across his shoulders. The man’s eyes narrowed as he saw his quarry bolt and he brought the smoking barrel to bear, swinging it about and levelling it at Lucius. He gave a manic laugh before squeezing the trigger and unloading a spray of leaden death.
The rattled waterfall of empty shell casings played a delicate background harmony between the baritone roar of the automatic rifle that resonated about the plaza as Lucius sprang from cover. Even with the distance between them he could see the edge of madness that had crept into the man’s eyes, thin threads of jagged red veins snaking across the surface. Time seemed to hang as he sprinted across the open ground, easily avoiding the vortex-like path of the high velocity rounds as they flew past him.
Clearing three steps at a time, he sprang up the decorative staircase and vaulted the defensive automated barricade that his attacker had carelessly placed and neglected to take advantage of. Within mere seconds he was upon him, his foe sparing him a dark look of malevolence before shock and surprise took over.
Lucius batted the long barrel aside, his strike creasing the precision of the smooth metal, and before the man could respond he drove home a devastating uppercut, whipping his aggressor’s head back and snapping his neck in one fluid motion. The man flew several metres through the air before landing in a crumpled heap, the rifle protruding into the air and causing his body to jut at an awkward angle.
You did not need to kill him, Lernaean had already left.
Lucius felt the prickle of discomfort. “How was I supposed to know that, he was only trying to gun me down a moment ago?”
But I had already said that the assault weapon couldn’t hurt you?
He turned and peered into the darkness, the ghostly murmur of cold laughter creeping toward him through the black shadows. “I’m still trying to get used to being invulnerable, Sepherene.”
You are not completely invulnerable, only formidable. There was a brief pause. One more death is an acceptable sacrifice in pursuing Lernaean, he cannot be allowed to exist any longer.
He leant over the fallen form and unclipped the rifle, letting the body slump into some semblance of deathly comfort. A tinge of guilt tugged at his sub-conscious. “Why is he using these soldiers, they are innocents and only here to guard the temple?”
A flicker of sadness passed through his mind. That is the way that Lernaean works, he has fallen far.
Lucius shook his head. “I still don’t understand it all. Don’t all angels cast from the heavens go on to become demons?”
If that were so then you yourself would currently be possessed by one. Even angels can make mistakes but God does not simply cast us aside and forget us. Instead we are sent into the realm of mortals where we must atone for our sins and seek his forgiveness through righteous endeavour. Demons are something different, they are created and summoned by those that have turned from the light.
Lucius felt the sting of her disdain and decided not to press the matter any further. Instead he started into the darkness of the temple, following the faint sound of despicable joy that continued to seep from deeper within.
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Narrow corridors linked large circular rooms, each one sparsely adorned with plain, wooden pews and prayer mats. Small doors adjoined these rooms leading into vestiaries and confession chambers. They were all the same apart from the stained glass windows that were displayed above and behind the lecterns. Aside from the fluorescent glow behind the painted glass, each depicted a different scene taken from the New Testament with the odd one dating as far back as the Old Testament. In a previous life he would have spent hours marvelling at the artistic splendour of the work, examining every laser etched detail, but now their beauty seemed to be mired with a sense of indifference. Not only that, he could also feel a distant sense of recognition, almost as though he had witnessed the events himself even though the scenes were from centuries past.
We must hurry. Her voice interrupted his thoughts with an imploring urgency.
“But where?” he said. “These corridors seem to continue round in circles.”
Down, we must go down.
He recalled seeing a staircase along the last stretch of white plastered corridor that he’d passed through. Turning around and jogging back on himself he soon found the shadowed entrance with stairs disappearing down into the murky gloom. There was a smell of decay in the stale air that wafted up from the darkness below as he made his way down the spiral stairs and he felt the edge of his nerves begin to fray.
The descent seemed to go on forever and he passed a number of open doorways leading onto lower floors that ran beneath the temple. It wasn’t until Lucius reached the very bottom that it became obvious he was walking into the catacombs. Vast burial chambers containing hundreds of tombs carved into the layers of sediment rock lay all around him and the stench of death was palpable.
Taking a luminescent torch from a bracket on the wall he flicked the filter switch and the cone intensified casting long rays of artificial light down the corridor ahead and into the rooms either side.
“I didn’t think you were still allowed to entomb the dead?” he shuddered as images of archaic ceremonies sprang to mind.
This is Italus, the people here still invoke the old practices.
“But it is unclean, have they not heard of the plagues that consumed the Loterean system?”
If it is done correctly there is no risk of illness, the plagues you speak of were of another’s making and only perpetuated by the dead.
The sound of stone as it crumbled and fell interrupted them and Lucius held the torch out in front, staring through the gloom. The smell was much worse down here than the air had hinted at above. It was enough to unsettle his stomach with waves of nausea that pitched and rolled threatening to overturn his constitution.
He is here and he is not alone.
Lucius edged forwards in a crouch, unsure of what he might find up ahead and not altogether sure he wanted to find anything at all. He past the entrance to another mausoleum and spared it a brief glance before pressing on. In the opening to the next vault he saw crumbs of stone that led a trail to the passageway and off into the dark. Reaching out with the torch he moved into the chamber and followed the pieces of stone until he came to a long wall of tombs. As his eyes reached the third layer he saw a large hole in the side of the stonework. Thrusting the torch into the gap he recoiled in horror on seeing it empty.
He drew a quick cross over his chest and leaned forward, peering inside again. Whatever had been there was gone. His eyes fell to the lacquered enamel plate that remained intact further along the desecrated tomb. It read one word. Typhaon.
“What has happened here?” Lucius whispered.
He has raised the dead. He could feel the shock in her voice and it did nothing to help his floundering courage, something that was quickly starting to fade to be replaced by a firm sense of panic. “What should I do?”
You must face him and quickly, before he draws more power into the form he has taken.
Lucius held the torch before him and continued down the passageway. He could hear a fluctuating click coming from ahead, like the brittle crunch of a carapace or the snap of plastic. It echoed along the stone walls towards him, flung down from the flat ceiling, each crack snatching at his nerve. Step by cautious step he came ever closer to its source, his mind full of what obscenities he might find. He became so mesmerised by the sound that he almost missed the subtle displacement in the air beside him and the grizzled form that fractured the shadows; almost.
Stepping to the side a rusted blade sliced the air where he had been standing moments before. Caught off balance by his sudden movement, Lucius stumbled and fell into the damp wall, another vicious slash whispering past his stomach as the blade’s tip cut a slither through his jacket.
Don’t just stand there, move!
He ducked aside, desperately searching for his attacker as the light of the fallen torch cavorted about passageway where it rolled on the ground. “I can’t see anything!”
Retreating back along the corridor a tall figure loomed from out of the grey, a twisted grin entrenched across its rotten face. It swung a long blade, hacking at the air before it with a wretched abandonment.
“You remember Typhaon don’t you Sepherene?” I voice came from the darkness beyond. “How fitting that it should be him that severs the mortal form that you wear.”
Lucius felt an explosion in his chest as lava coursed through his body. The pain was excruciating, every nerve in his body felt like it was being twisted and squeezed with torturous precision.
Stop resisting me or we will die!
He dropped to his knees and gulped down lungful’s of stagnant air, the undead creature looming over him and raising the sword above its head. “Get on with it,” he clutched at his chest, feeling like his heart was about to burst and then, as the tarnished blade began to fall, black night consumed him.
