Red Twilight: A Dawning Of Power

Chapter 17: Silent World and White Coat Fever

"Snake!" Larry yells at the wall that has sprung between them.

"Larry!" his brother yells as well.

"Snake!" Larry bellows again.

The brothers' efforts are fruitless; they can't hear each other "Larry I'm coming! Stand still," Snake calls before turning to the hall that is opening behind him. He pulls his revolver and c.o.c.ks the hammer. He holds his revolver to his forehead as if it was a sword and quotes from his favorite series, The Sword of Truth, "Blade be true this day." Snake runs down the hall in a blind search for his brother.

Snake finds himself in a hall with sculptures on the wall in the shape of heads. A triad of female voices comes from behind. "What is that?" voice A says.

"It's a boy," responds voice B

"I want to play with it," intones voice C.

Snake looks back to see three nude women with fuzzy bat legs and matching wings. They seem hideously charming.

"Do you think he is lost?" the smallest of the three asks "I think he is handsome," her tallest companion says.

"I don't think he knows what is going on," the third giggles. "I don't think he even knows this hall is booby trapped."

The three demon witches warp into leathery animal monsters. "And now he is, too!" they giggle diabolically.

With grace and luck on his side, Snake steeps backward as the floor springs up at a ninety-degree angle. He falls forward, sliding down it. Sixteen spears shoot out of the wall above him in a box shape, but Snake manages to crawl under them. A spiked ceiling falls toward him. He cartwheels out of the way, but one final set of spears juts from the opposite wall. He flattens against the far-side wall, and the spears fail to graze him. "Slick as grease," Snake applauds himself as he steps out of the hall unscratched, chuckling as he brushes himself off.

Snake rounds the bend. The three bat demons appear in front of him. They cackle like hyenas. "The master is away, time for the rats to play!" the tallest one hisses.

Snake scratches his head with his pistol. "How the hell did you get over there?" he says, looking baffled for a moment. The three bats flutter to him. One of the three slashes at him with the hooks on its wings. Snake takes a graze to the side of his face. Another smashes into him, and the thief hits the ground with a crash. The diabolic women laugh as they spin around for a second strike.

Snake punches the ground in frustration. He rolls left, then right as two of the hell-bats fly around him. The final flies directly into him, rending with its talons. Snake guards his face with his arms crossed over it. The first chance he gets, he swipes his arms at the demon, and she runs after her sisters, regrouping.

Snake climbs to his feet just as a fourth monster comes into sight. It is a gipsy-looking woman with a cow's head and a large mace that it is dragging behind itself. Snake squints at it as he tries to comprehend the monster. "This is getting to be a bit much," he groans.

The first hell-bat flies at him, but Snake ducks under it. The second dives in, and he twists fully around, backhanding the witch as it soars past him. The last in line hits him head-on, and they both fall to the ground as Snake wraps his arms around it. Snake rolls her onto her back as she shrieks angrily. The man head butts the beast several times until it stops screaming before finally dropping it to the ground.

The two remaining in the air swoop around again as Snake stands up. The bat women fly in; the one at point dives down, wrapping its arms and legs around Snake and trying to bite him. As its teeth touch his shoulder, Snake shoots it twice in the c.h.e.s.t. It looks shocked as he thrusts it to the ground. The last of the bat women lands from its flight, understanding that Snake is now in control. Snake snaps open his revolver and pours out the empty rounds.

Enraged, the last diabolic sister runs at Snake. She fan kicks him and he stumbles, dropping his revolver She spins around and side kicks her enemy. The bat knee strikes and Snake falls to his knees, and finally an axe kick finishes the bat demon's flurry of attacks and drops Snake to his back.

The bat woman places one foot on Snake's c.h.e.s.t, holding him down. "I'm going to enjoy making a slave out of you for my master. Your back will be my bed, and you will lick my a.s.s on command, Dog."

Snake looks around and remembers where he is. "Well," he jokes, "I kinda just got out of a relationship like that, and however fun and s.e.xy sadomasochism is, I'm just not ready for that kind of thing again so soon." Understanding the traps he saw earlier, he slaps the ground to his left and sets off the "guilty lances." Snake smiles as the spear trap activates and shoots into the last witch. He crawls out of the trap's path and props himself against the wall, wheezing for breath.

"You," a voice says from his right side.

Shit, Snake thinks, there were four of them, weren't there?

"You're not one of Cravixs's legions," the cow-headed monster says as it places its mace on the ground.

"So, what is it to you who I am?" Snake asks. "And why aren't you attacking me like every other monster down here?"

"For almost a hundred years now this has been a hideout for travelers like myself running from various things. A man from this world named Adam Crow has opened a gate for us to get here and told us he would protect it so long as we did what we were told."

"What do you mean 'this world?'"

"He demands sacrifices of blood and children as a tax."

"You didn't answer me," Snake says, annoyance entering his voice.

"Most of us are afraid of him and the things he makes us do."

"Ha?" Snake leads the monster on.

"He likes women; he wants us to have children in his name so we can then sell them to him."

"What?"

"He is scared of you and your friends. I hear he has summoned his warrior angel, Job, here to fight you if the Wolfins prove ineffective," the beast says.

Snake interrupts, "Stop—"

But the creature continues, "Cravixs is indestructible they say, but if you can

crush his body, maybe he will leave us alone."

Snake grabs her by the arm. "OK," he shakes her, "whatever you want! But first I need to find my brother and the others. Can you help me?" Snake shuts his eyes in part, the way the bats talked, the minotaur and what she had to say, something starts to click with Snake but it just isn't all there. This monster, this Cravixs. He seems unstable, almost like he is more than one mind living in a singular body. Moses, he knows something about mythology, maybe Snake can ask him about this trinity thing that seems to be in effect, assuming that he can get out of this maze.

***

"Snake!" Larry yells, "Snake, Snake!" There's no answer. "Snake!" he yells one final time before giving up.

He steps back away from the wall, and as he does the room morphs, transforming into a gray-tiled room with a sink and an operating table. Silence overtakes him like the dread of night. The sink's faucet drips and a defining echo sounds when the water hits the aluminum of the sink.

Larry holds his ears and screams without sound. He jogs over to the sink and twists hard to stop it from dripping again, the sound of his feet on the hard stone floor being little softer.

The room is small and has chain-link windows and no doors. Larry sits on his knees waiting for his brother to show up and save him as he always has. A hard crash comes from the opposing end of the room. Larry looks to the source of the sound and sees that an ash-covered man has materialized. The man is clad in gray and looks lightly burned. He has no face—only a rubber, stretched head with no identifying features other than its inhumanity. A flicker of light reflects off a blade in its left hand. The phantom doctor slowly marches forward, not making a sound as it shuffles about the room.

Larry's ears sharpen. He can hear his heart beating in his c.h.e.s.t and his lungs stretching. He stands, following the movement of the phantom stepping opposite him. Larry's every move makes a clapping sound. The phantom flashes the blade, leaping at Larry who side steps, bringing up his arm to absorb the shock. He suffers a deep gouge to the arm as the tiny blade cuts deep into flesh. Larry flinches back, clutching his arm. The phantom steps in to slash him again and Larry suffers another cut, this one down his neck and into his c.h.e.s.t. He falls forward with a mighty thump, grabbing at his neck to hold the wound.

The phantom stands over Larry, holding the knife far over its head. Time slows down for the man; the air ripples around him, and the flapping of cloth can be heard clearly. Larry learns to pick apart the painful noise, and everything becomes clearer. Larry's wounds stop bleeding, his eyes fill with blood, and he growls a monstrous bellow. In an animalistic rage, Larry kicks up to his feet. The phantom tries to stab him as he stands, but the berserk man snatches his wrist with one hand and his neck with the other in a single swift movement. Larry snarls. He squeezes the phantom's wrist until it shatters, forcing the demon to drop the knife. Larry squeezes its esophagus, causing it to twitch painfully. Unrelenting, Larry lifts the figure into the air, holding strong until the last of the phantom's strength is gone.

As soon as the phantom stops moving, Larry barks, lashing his head at it as if to take a bite out of the monster's flesh, but he stops himself short. For a moment he looks around in a state of confusion. His arm grows numb. Larry is stronger than an average man, but he's not strong enough to lift a fully grown man into the air and hold him for any length of time. Let alone strong enough to break bones barehanded. He drops the phantom and paces about, trapped in a half-dreamlike state.

***

Crow pulls from his pocket a deck of mystical cards like the ones used by gypsies. He finds himself a chair near a table in one of the many guest rooms the planeshifters were nice enough to prepare. He places his cards on the table smugly, laughing internally. Today is a fine day to be a dark god; doing little more than whispering into the right man's ear, he was able to invoke mass confusion that over the course of the next several years will net him thousands of souls and leave an entire country in ruins. Next it's time for some after-dinner entertainment.

A meaningless fight would be terrific—maybe root out some less-than-worthy subjects to kill some would-be monster hunters and claim a new mortal toy to play with for a handful of years. The outcome of the fighting here means nothing in the long run, but if he can get rid of Job or Belmond tonight, it would save trouble later. Both of them had outlived their usefulness about a century ago.

But the Tamriel … that interests him. Only three Tamriel have ever been recorded to exist in this world, two of which were martyred, as is the norm for the divine seed. He himself is only an avatar, not born into their ranks, but ascended by drinking holy blood.

Crow flips the top card from his deck revealing "the magician"—all wisdom come unto me. The second is "the devil"—all things of the flesh bound to my flesh. Third, "the fool"—only I can lead man to the next century. Fourth, "fortune"—cast down from my brothers to balance the scales of purity and filth. Fifth, "the queen of daggers." Crow squints as he reads his cards. What a waste, he thinks as the future comes to light for him.

He should have played along with me.