Cold
To those fortunate enough to have read this already: here it is again.
To those whom this is new to: Enjoy!
My latest (completed) short story
[Segment 0 - Spare key]
He awoke alone. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. He felt around him, it felt as if he was inside some sort of plastic bag, and from the sound of it outside that was a metal container.
“If there was a hell, I’m surely in it.” He thought.
For him, hell was a cold environment devoid of anyone whatsoever. This was fine with him as well, he didn’t mind the cold, and always found people’s chattering to be most irritating.
“Wait, that doesn’t make sense, why would I be in a place with the few things I liked most about life, if I’m in hell?” He questioned.
He went through his pockets, in search of something to cut out with, but found nothing, and then came across his wallet. Inside his wallet he found his spare car key. He grabbed it out and tore his way out of the bag.
“I really hope they didn’t burry me alive, because I don’t think this key will do me two shits.” He thought as he affirmed that he was indeed inside a metal box.
“Hm, that doesn’t make sense though, they wouldn’t burry me in a metal coffin with the clothes I died in still on me.” He reflected.
He felt around once again in the box and found nothing but a gap at the back of it. He braced himself against the bottom and shoved against the gap.
“…Well, I really can’t stand it when Murphy goes through bodies…” One voice said.
He heard footsteps and immediately stopped pressing against the box.
“…I know, I can’t stand it that he’s always eating cheetos while doing it too.” Another voice added.
“What? It’s disgusting.” The second voice said after a quiet pause.
He heard them carry on more about this Murphy person for a while amidst footsteps in the room outside. As he slowly brought his hands back in, he realized they were very cold. He felt the rest of him and was much the same, cold everywhere. As he was feeling about he paused at his eyes. They were slightly swelled up, along with his left eyebrow. Terror stricken he lowered his right hand down to his neck. No pulse, he checked elsewhere, still nothing.
“I’ve got to be in a morgutorium,” He thought to himself, “Not everyone keeps dead bodies inside metal boxes in plain sight.”
“Well, we best get to business, Besides, Romanov is starting to smell over there.” The first voice said. “I know we’ll flip for it.”
He shuddered at hearing his own name spoken by someone he didn’t even know. He heard the rattle of keys and change until, “Here we go, found a quarter, heads I get him, tails you get him.” The first voice offered.
“Deal,” The second voice responded.
Romanov heard the flip of the coin through the air and then landing on the floor, slowly sputtering to a stop.
“God damn you, Huard, you rigged it.” The second voice yelled.
“No I didn’t, Jameson.” The first voice claimed.
“Doesn’t matter anyways, I’ll skin you the same and you can join Romanov over there as a corpsicle.” The second voice yelled.
Romanov heard Huard run off with Jameson shortly behind him. He stopped and recollected that morgues keep the boxes locked up to prevent the general public from coming in and ransacking or stealing bodies. He continued contemplating a way for escape and finally figured one out. It was childish at best, but he figured the sheer shock would be enough. He laughed quietly to himself.
[Segment 1 - Dead Wrong]
“…Ouch, man, you really didn’t need to do that.” Jameson said.
“Hey, you know very well that all’s fair in love, war, and vending machines.” Huard said.
“I know, but still, you didn’t have to steal my drink and then try to pelt me, in the head.” Jameson pleaded.
“Oh well, it’s off to business you go.” Huard said.
“I know, I know.” Jameson whined.
Jameson walked over to the box where Romanov was stored and pulled on the handle.
“Well, looks like we have another one that’s stuck, could you call the janitor over here so we can get this one open before rigamortis sets in?” Jameson asked.
Romanov listened for Jameson releasing the handle and when he had, Romanov stopped pulling from the gap in the floor and the bar by his feet and shoved with all his might. The box slid open with alarming speed and careened right into Jameson, throwing him into the wall and into the seat next to Huard.
“I didn’t think I had that kind of strength in life,” Romanov thought and paused, ” or in death.”
“Hey now, I didn’t say you had to pull on it that hard, they’re on rollers.” Huard laughed.
“Jameson? JAMESON?!” Huard yelled as he shook Jameson.
Leaving Jameson incapacitated, Huard went to go phone a paramedic and paused to close the box that Romanov was in.
“Odd, ” Huard said as he examined the torn contents of the box. “Must have been Jameson’s doing.”
Huard raised one hand to grab the end of the box to close it again, and swiftly Romanov grabbed onto Huard’s neck.
“AH!” Huard screamed.
“Scared you, didn’t I?” Romanov chuckled.
“Yyyyyy yeeeeess yes you did,” Huard stammered, “Sorrrrry for the mix-up, we all thought you were dead.”
“It is simple, ‘Huard,’ the living are warm, I am not, the living have a pulse, yet I do not, and the living breathe, while I do not.” Romanov declared.
“But, sir, Mr. Romanov, you are still breathing, the cold has just dropped your skin temperature and your pulse to where you can’t detect it.”
“Foolish man.” Romanov decreed. He threw Huard with all of his might against the opposite end of the room. He hit the wall, and slowly slid down to rest on the floor.
“I didn’t know humans could fly, either, but I still ‘breathe’ because I’m used to it.” Romanov said and stopped for a moment, not “breathing” and counted the seconds. Easily a minute went by, then two, and then three. He stopped counting after that and smiled, knowing truly that he was right and Huard had been wrong. He wandered through the morgue and happened across the room with vending machines in it and noticed a sticky substance splattered on the wall. It smelled of soda and Romanov smirked at the two’s idiotic qwabble. He grabbed out his wallet and noticed he had only a dollar and looked for a suitable drink. Mint Fuji he chose and the machine flashed 1.35.
“God fucking damn it.” Romanov swore. He then sifted through his pockets and found a dime.
“Well, a lot of good that’ll do wait a second.” Romanov said, “Those lutzes were playing with a quarter.”
After Romanov’s recollection, he wandered back to the storage room and grabbed the quarter from the floor. He then realized that neither Huard nor Jameson would need their possessions. He ransacked them for their money, cards, and keys and returned back over to the vending area. Just as he was about to put the quarter in, he examined it more closely.
“Bastard used a two-tailed coin, oh well, here’s hoping it works.” Romanov snickered as he inserted it too into the machine and a Mint Fuji dropped down.
“Wait a minute,” He said after he opened the bottle and raised it to his lips and realized that the dead don’t need to eat or drink either. He shrugged and drank the Mint Fuji anyways.
He wondered around the building a bit more to see if there was anyone else he could have fun with but found no one. Instead, he wondered outside and pulled out one of the sets of keys and pressed the disarm button on it. A red vette blinked its lights on and off and chirped and he wandered over to it.
“Who says the dead don’t pay?” Romanov thought. Just as he reached the car and was going to get in he whipped out the second set of keys out of amusement. He stared at what he believed to be an ignition key and wondered.
“There’s no way that’s right, he had to have just bought a mock-up of the key. He sifted through the rest of the keys on the keychain and found what he believed to be a starter.
He searched the parking lot just because he knew that it couldn’t be true as he gazed at the ignition key with a snake on it. He found the car on his own and gazed at it. Even from afar the long front, scooped sides and slanted top were telltale. He pressed the disarm button on the second set and sure enough it chirped.
[Segment 10 - A Pigeon’s Awakening]
“This can’t be real, but I guess the dead really do pay.” Romanov said with a chuckle at the end as he got into the car. He peeled out of the parking lot and flew down the street until he got to a stoplight. He looked around and figured it had to be midnight if not later. Just as he was focusing on a new plot of what to do a kid in an eclipse rolled up to him and revved its engine. He laughed and waited a second after the light turned green. The kid had already a good distance on him, so he floored it. The viper screamed past the kid and his crapbox and moments later he looked back and saw lights flashing behind the kid’s car. He laughed coldly at the kid’s stupidity and continued simply driving around the city. He rolled up to another red light and spotted a gun store to his right. He backed the car up a bit and got out after shutting it off. He walked up to the main entrance of the store and checked the lock. Whoever closed it wasn’t as insolent as the kid, and had locked the deadbolt too. He shrugged and turned back to the car and stopped a pace away from the door. He smiled and did a spinning kick at the door and it soared off its hinges into the store itself. Of course the alarm rung but Romanov cared not. He searched the gun lineup; all there was basic issue guns, shotguns, pistols, even measly paintball guns and dart guns.
“These won’t do anything but bounce.” He thought. He paced along the lineup trying to figure a usable combination and heard an echo in one of his steps. He backed up and looked down at the floor and saw a small smiley face painted on the corner of a board. He ripped the board and the ones adjacent to it from the floorboards and discovered a massive cache of military-grade guns. Again, he was spellbound; it was hard to choose between the AK’s, the Uzis and Mini-Uzis, and even the sniper rifles. He saw a glimmer at the bottom of the compartment and dug through it to find a box containing two golden desert eagles. These fit him well, so he departed with them both, rounds, and even a couple Uzis and sniper rifles just in case. He heard something faint down the road to his left.
He listened more attentively and realized it was a siren far in the distance. He looked down at his watched and laughed.
“Five minutes, seems the city police have gotten a little bit faster these days.” He unholstered his guns and threw them into the car and sped off. There wasn’t a chance of the cops catching him even from a standstill. He drove around the block a bit and hid the car away in a parking garage, figuring the cameras got a good look at his car. He walked down the street a little ways and found one of the most glorious things he had ever beheld. It was then that he realized that this was one of the streets he always took from work to home and had always gazed in the shop window. It was a karate dojo and there was a katana in the front window case. It was a long bladed sword, even as far as katanas usually go. He leaned up against the window and thought to himself. He really wanted the sword, but didn’t want the police to know or come speeding to the scene. He knew they would be out in full force looking for the person who broke into the gun shop. He gave up and shoved himself off of the storefront when the entire wall gave away slightly. He turned around and looked at it, it wasn’t a big change, only a few bricks had moved and he had heard nothing of any sort of an alarm. He removed enough bricks to allow his arm to enter and froze hearing something coming down the street, opposite from the way he had walked.
“Oh shit, not again,” he said as he heard an alarm screaming towards him and saw the faint flicker of lights flashing in the distance. He hid in the alley adjacent to the shop, he wasn’t going to give up the sword, and he’d wait out the cops if they came. A minute passed and the car finally screamed down the street in front of him.
He laughed; it wasn’t a car at all, but an ambulance. He remembered that one of the routing hospitals was down this way and sighed of relief. He went back to where he had managed to make a hole in the wall and reached in, grabbing out the katana by its handle. He threw it over his shoulder and placed the two eagles inside the case. He figured it an even trade and laughed as he strolled casually down the street.
He came to a building he knew to be abandoned and climbed upstairs to the roof entrance. He took up a spot overhanging the side of the building nearest the street and waited, focused on the sidewalks below. He unholstered his sniper rifle and zoomed in. He focused it on a small sheet of paper below and shot out one of the o’s on it. Impressed by his newfound skill he zoomed out a bit and awaited anyone coming down the sidewalk from either direction.
Hours flew by until daylight struck, and he still hadn’t seen anyone. He was most impressed that he wasn’t even slightly fatigued after all this time of laying in wait. Eventually there was a lone man walking down the sidewalk, and he zoomed in for an easy kill but released the trigger shortly afterwards. The man was moping down the street in a manner that looked as if he was separated from any effects of anything else. Romanov zoomed out from the man and laughed, this man was already in a dismal state, death, as Romanov saw it, would be far worse.
Romanov moved away from the ledge and gazed out across the skyscape and smiled, feeling suddenly peaceful, that he wasn’t the lone man in the world that everyone ignored. He slept, not out of need, but out of that same peace, and he enjoyed the quiet and darkness of it. He figured there would be more worthy prey in the mid-day.
A pigeon landing on his foot awoke him suddenly from his slumber, and he awoke, looking down at the bird. The bird looked back at him, as to ponder what this new creature was, and then flew off.
[Segment 11 - Nextel Vigilante]
After his stirred awakening he resumed his post at the building’s ledge and noticed a foray of people hustling and bustling about. He zoomed in on many different faces, all of which were oblivious to the world around them. Some were reading newspapers as they walked or stood in place, waiting for what, nobody knew. There were others that were simply just rushing hurriedly in this or that direction and others yet that were talking, what one could assume, to themselves. But the dead giveaway was they had a hand up to their ear and something protruded from it. He knew them; they were the most irritating of the oblivious ones. Even when they weren’t on their phones, they still broke life off into tedious little segments that you knew they were paying attention to, just to chatter about to someone else later. He despised them immensely, and he aimed in on a man that was dialing in some number. He focused in for an easy shot but backed off a bit. He figured he’d so something even worse than death in that one man’s opinion.
The man started dancing about and talking loud enough even Romanov could hear him. Now he truly knew whom this man was. He was part of a worse breed of the separate, even worse than the other chatterists. This kind didn’t stop with you just hearing their part of the conversation, this kind you heard both, and its not like it was in a quiet volume, this was in a loud enough volume to say, “Hey, look at me, I’m a user!” Romanov zoomed in for a shot not for the man’s head, but to the man’s phone, and waited for a time that his dance had came to a pause. A minute went by and finally the man pulled the phone out away from himself to stare at the screen for some reason, and Romanov took his shot.
The phone flew out of his hand and behind him; Romanov had to fight to keep from laughing uproariously. The man searched at first for where he had “dropped” his phone, and eventually found it close to the wall behind him. The man picked up the phone and went back to his conversation, this time he frowned considerable and beat on the phone a couple times. The man gave up pummeling the phone and turned it over to see if the back gave some clue to its misbehaviance. The man’s eyes rose tremendously as he examined the perfectly shaped circle that now was indented into his phone. He shrugged and hammered on the phone again and stopped. He looked down to see that something had fallen out of the phone and picked it up. He examined this and discovered it was in the same shape as the circle in the back of his phone except flat on the back. The man looked up and around, finally glancing up at the top of the building where Romanov was perched. Romanov waved and then laughed aiming in to take a shot for the man’s heart or his lungs, he couldn’t decide which. Just then the man ran off down the sidewalk at full steam, pushing anyone out of his way. Romanov followed the man’s progress and watched as he ran and then came to a sudden stop.
Romanov laughed triumphantly; the man had run into the side of a public bus and had bounced off of it. He watched as the bus screeched to a halt and the driver exited. In that section everyone seemed to put their lives on hold just to see the goings on. The man stood back up slowly and rubbed his head. The driver was carrying on profusely, trying to establish the man’s wellbeing and the man turned around and pointed up towards where Romanov was. As the man pointed up Romanov drew back from his post and hid against the ledge. He heard screams first from where the man was and then shouts of “SNIPER!” from the same area. Directly after, everyone began screaming and Romanov knew his purpose was served. Even in the old World War II movies he had heard of the sniper’s motto “One shot gives your position, two shots will be your death.” So Romanov withdrew knowing his stay was more than unwelcome now. He walked down the stairs and went into an adjacent room and hid the rifle. He stashed his sword under his coat at this time too and then ran out through the back exit. Ducking through the buildings on the street parallel to the one he was on, Romanov discovered that life was actually much the usual on this street; the pandemic had only been on the other street, nowhere else.
[Segment 100]
He felt as if he had truly been dropped into another world, not only because of the lack of the panic of the previous street, but because he felt as if he shared not a thing common with a single soul on this street or any. Suddenly he noticed the area was getting extremely dark, he glanced at his watch and then at a clock tower, assuming his watch wrong. Both were right, it was merely three in the afternoon. He shrugged and then walked on, it progressively got darker as he walked and this made him extremely curious. Just as he stopped and looked up at the sun he felt a cold chill surge over him. The sun was fully eclipsed and shimmering a strange green color. From the side of his vision he saw something shift and then jump rapidly. He unsheathed his sword, knowing fully that this would be useless against whatever was hunting him. He felt something narrow in behind him, as the shrieks of everyone seemed to phase in and out of existence. He swung his blade around and turned about face. A green flash from where the blade had seared the air and then a flash that leapt over him and disappeared. This truly had him wondering what unearthly force was after him, and it intrigued him, finally a worthy adversary. He made his way back to the car after putting the sword away. Not of any use against this foe, it wasn’t worth putting fear into those that were undead.
He found the car as he had left it; cunningly he had hid it around the lowermost block and between a few large sport utility vehicles. He sifted through his acquired weaponry and summed up that nothing would be any better than what he had on him already. He felt something cold brush past his back and immediately spun around in search for what it was or where it went.
“I see everything about you has truly enhanced, but you have yet to adapt your sense of perception.” A disembodied voice said.
“Who are you and what do you want with me?” Romanov yelled.
“I want nothing of you, but it is them that you should fear.” The voice spoke.
“What are they and what do they want with me?” Romanov inquired.
“They were much like yourself once, undead, yet passed outside of the world of the living. They got foolhardy though, and joined sides with the Underlord instead of being able to see through his mindgames and remain free spirits.” The voice said.
“Which are they, undead or spirits, you mentioned both?” Romanov asked.
“They are not quite either, their spirit has partially left as those who service The Master usually do, but they, unlike others, realized finally his deception and left his ranks.” The voice said, approaching. A shimmer of distortion in the air flashed, unlike that of the beings and a man appeared.
“And who or what are you? You never answered.” Romanov inquired.
“I am as they call me, ‘Ovmillion’, or to my foes, ‘Hunter of the Lordlings.’” The man spoke.
“And what makes you different from them, and why do you say they departed from Him, if they still seek the undead?” Romanov said.
“I saw through his deception in the beginning, and he, fool heartedly, thought I a servant and made preparations to make me into his most powerful servant. Needless to say, once I came of power strong enough to triumph him, I struck out at him and departed.” Ovmillion spoke, “I struck at his most powerful appendage, and during that time he had a tap into the worlds of both the living and dead and could manifest in any form possible. By striking it, he could no longer manifest in this world, and instead has to use his own servants to do his bidding. It is when you cross into the dead plateau that you need worry, for his force is still strong there. Without any sort of temper to his will, you or anyone would not last a moment there and not be within his control.”
“How do I fight them, or is there even a way?” Romanov asked.
“There is a way, but one must know how to wield it. It is a manipulator weapon and only strikes those of opposite alignment. For instance, If I tried striking you with it.” Ovmillion spoke as he revealed a green-shaded saw-tooth blade and swung at Romanov. But the blade bent around Romanov’s figure and returned back to shape on the other side. “It obviously has no harm, and this is how you know I am not of them as well. If I was, you would be nothing but a spirit now, no longer bound for this unholy scare-ensnared land.”
“That’s very comforting,” Romanov said, “But how can I use it if there is only one, and how is it I even survived their first attack?”
“He had the same wish of you as he had for me, fortunately I got to you first, and as far as there being only one.” Ovmillion said and then grabbed onto the blade of the weapon and pulled on it, it lengthened, or seemed to, at first and then a mirror of the blade’s saw teeth appeared and then a handle, it was merely a double. Ovmillion handed it to Romanov. “Now, take heed, they know of this weapon, and if they get a hold of it they will not only take it for their own good but kill you as well for possessing one of their sacred instruments.”
Romanov looked at the blade and held it up towards a light in the lot, it shimmered a green color, and as he turned it turned semi-transparent. A figure appeared to be on the blade and it was unlike any Romanov had seen, it was a hobbled figure with a completely misshapen body and a large set of knarwling teeth. It struck once towards Romanov and then leapt away.
Ovmillion looked unsurprised and stopped midspeech and simply ended with “They’re coming, get ready.”
[Segment 101 - First Hunt]
This Romanov did and made way to throw the katana aside.
“You will need that, as you see he gave them some of the same powers as him, to possess still-living bodies. Romanov nodded and threw the katana back over his shoulder.
Suddenly a similar figure passed by the entryway to the garage and then came back. At which point the blade shown a beam of light directly at it and then flooded the room with a green immanence. The figure ran directly at Romanov who struck directly where he thought the beast’s heart would have been. The figure seemed to melt away from where the blade had cut and made a hissing sound from the wound. Ovmillion immediately rushed forward and dismembered the creature’s head.
“One thing I forgot,” Ovmillion added as the figure melted away into the ground and disappeared. “They share much with the vampires you may or may not have heard of, except they feast not on the blood of the living, but on the flesh of the undead. Wounds that either impale or dismember will only kill them.”
“Thanks for that update.” Romanov sneered. Another figure entered, this time it fled from Ovmillion and straight for Romanov. This time Romanov struck ferociously, as it leapt to attack he severed all of the organism’s appendages from it, and then the head at last. Ovmillion snickered.
“You don’t have to go to that extreme.” He added, “One slice kills will do quite well.”
Romanov laughed. “My name’s Iruy Romanov, by the way.”
“I know, and I also know of their name for you, ‘Morgatuon’, or ‘Bringer of the Underlord ” Ovmillion spoke.
“Where to now?” Romanov asked.
“To my sanctuary.” Ovmillion spoke and ran toward a far corner of the garage.
“Your sanctuary is in this garage?” Romanov said and laughed.
“No, but my transportation is.” Ovmillion said.
Ovmillion continued running and Romanov followed afterwards and they arrived at a Caprice. Romanov laughed and got in. They flew, or what it seemed like, through traffic, stoplights, even a couple buildings until they arrived at a dimly lit bar on the outskirts of town. Romanov slid out of the car and almost puked.
“They haven’t quite mastered phase travel while traveling between phases yet, and apparently neither have you.” Ovmillion said and laughed. Romanov paused, he realized that his body’s tissue was merely ornamental and served to real purpose, and it was merely his mind that was spun out of shape, and not his stomach. The climbed up a hidden fire escape and into a room littered with screens.
“This,” Ovmillion said and then clapped twice. “Is the observatory and sanctuary from here I can see any point in the city where I have cameras setup. Unfortunately they cannot see as we can but given that I can see how they disturb an area around where they’re in, they’re just as good almost as being there.”
“Wow, a clapper.” Romanov sneered and obviously hadn’t caught a word Ovmillion said.
“So, anyways, is there anyone in existence in the living world that knows of or can perceive the undead?” Romanov asked as he glanced down watching a group of people laughing.
“Yes, there are some, they say they can hear voices or claim they can project themselves in other places. Everyone can see us, of course, but very few can se the minions of the Underlord or spirits themselves. Those that can are typically labeled either insane or just plain quacks.” Ovmillion answered. Romanov looked back curiously at Ovmillion.
“What? The living never wish to know that there are other beings living in their worlds, occupying their space. They’re more comfortable believing in what they can see, or in what they think exists, but would much rather not know they exist.” Ovmillion persisted.
They continued their psychological debate for a while until they ended up back on the topic of minions again. By now the sun had started falling and Ovmillion had relaxed from his sentinel-like duty of watching the cameras.
“How do you know which ones are actually being truthful?” Romanov asked after a long pause, “About when they can perceive the minions running about their work?”
“One really can’t, but more often than not, if they are leading you into a trap or are just playing plain trickery, they’re being possessed, moved or are influenced by deeds with the minions themselves. It’s best just to go by your own instincts and not those of the living world.” Ovmillion asked.
Romanov nodded in agreement and moved from staring out the window to pacing about the room. The room was bare other than the flicker of the monitors and a single cross painted in black and outlined in white glowing marker. Romanov paused staring at this and then walked toward the screens.
“Is that yours or did it come with the hideaway?” Romanov asked.
“The cross? It was here before me, but if I disagreed with it I would’ve painted over it a while ago.” Ovmillion responded. Romanov still stared at the screens and said nothing.
“It’s not as if I’m a devout or even typical follower of Him, it’s just it helps for guidance sometimes. He rose from the dead after three days, so I figure there must be a way for us as well. I feel as if this is merely a purgatory of which we’re trapped in.” Ovmillion continued. Romanov nodded once and went back to pacing about, stopping every few moments to look out the window or at the screens.
Romanov didn’t know what he believed personally, and he felt as if this was all far outside from any possible redeemer’s control. But, it kept Ovmillion alive and sane, so he figured it couldn’t be too bad. He spent the next few hours pacing about the room. Ovmillion had long given up his watch and was flipping through a magazine at first and then various books he had, specifically ones passed on vampires as well as tortured spirits and souls. This seemed to be really interesting for Ovmillion, perhaps it was a plan of attack or just fighting strategy he was after. It sparked an interest in Romanov as well. He continued pacing about, every once in a while reading a sentence from Ovmillion’s book until there was a knock on the door.
“Delivery for Mr. O.” a voice said.
“When rats will bite and wounds won’t heal one should know that possession is near.” Ovmillion spoke.
“When people lie and trick or spy, one should know that the unspeakable is near.” The voice responded.
“Rafel, it’s you making deliveries again, Christ boy, it’s late. You should get a better shift.” Ovmillion said and laughed. He got up and opened the door. There stood a late-teen-aged boy holding packets filled with liquid. Ovmillion introduced Romanov to Rafel and vice-versa. The boy seemed strange, but yet familiar, there was something about him that Romanov had seen common in both life and death. Ovmillion smiled and chuckled at Romanov’s bewilderment.
“Rafel here is a Halfling, one of very few in existence. His mother was passing from being a normal human and undead. At this moment, one of the minions found it worthwhile to capture both mom and child, and get a minion requiring no guidance that would follow his control. But the Underlord faltered, Rafel survived the predicament, and is with us now. Not alive, but not truly dead.” Ovmillion spoke. “This is how I came to find Rafel and this place, because just as you sensed I somehow knew as well. They don’t attack here, because they figure he’s a lookout for them, much like the cameras I have, they figure he’ll alert them to any of our or our-type’s movement.”
Romanov looked puzzledly at Ovmillion again. Ovmilion smiled.
“Why I had the boy bring blood is because it helps one regain stamina when one’s been badly hurt. Plus, simply having fresh blood in your system boosts your strength, stamina, and even your senses a bit.” Spoke Ovmillion. Romanov took a bag from Rafel and grabbed one of the IV lines from Ovmillion and stuck it into his arm. He felt warmth enter his body through his arm and eventually his torso and the rest of him. He felt tremendously rejuvenated. He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling almost as if things were back to normal. As the bag had finally emptied Romanov felt almost as if he was back to life again. Rafel left the two of them to get back to business. Shortly after, Romanov let go of everything and just relaxed. Suddenly it seemed as if the entire environment around them had grown cold. Romanov look at Ovmillion and got back the same look of curiosity.
[Segment 110 - Kiss of death]
The entire house shook violently and screams were heard from every direction. Romanov and Ovmillion readied their blades and descended downstairs. They reached the street outside and found it completely vacant. Romanov listened intently and still heard nothing. Suddenly everything seemed to be diminishing to black. To Ovmillion’s left a minion appeared and cackled, charging headlong towards him. Ovmillion struck viciously, decapitating the creature. Another two minions appeared, one straight in-front of Ovmillion and the other behind Romanov. Ovmillion disregarded the one heading towards him and struck the one behind Romanov. This sent the creature backwards at which Romanov sliced the creature from its head. But was too late on the blow against the creature to his left and Ovmillion was hit in the side. Ovmillion swiped his blade across the creature’s midsection while Romanov’s attack landed precisely on the creature’s neckline. Blood seeped from Ovmillion’s side and Romanov turned to his aid.
“I’m alright, it will heal up and I will stop bleeding. I’m more concerned about these minions.” Romanov looked questioningly back at him. “They seemed to be more cunning than the usual, I wonder what’s afoot.” Ovmillion said.
The ground shook again, this time with a force tenfold the previously. Suddenly an entire swarm of minions appeared, surrounding the two of them. They both set out and struck down several of them with each blow. Romanov found great joy in sending them off reeling into one another, toppling them into each other like bowling pins. Each time they struck down one several more seemed to appear from nothingness. They struck onward, towards Ovmillion’s car. Eventually they had cleared a path through and piled in, peeling out from the scene. Romanov and Ovmillion exchanged exasperated glances.
“I never thought that many existed.” Ovmillion said amongst pants.
“That was odd, they seemed to have some goal in mind.” Romanov said as he looked out the back window. Ovmillion nodded. Romanov saw a figure appear from the doorway. First he was worried the kid would be struck down. But instead the kid seemed to be beckoning the swarm towards them. A mischievous grin was across his face.
“That bloody fucking kid, he brought them forth.” Romanov fumed.
“I always figured he was in allegiance with them.” Ovmillion spoke, without any hint of remorse. Romanov squinted, the swarm seemed to be not following them anymore.
“SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!” Ovmillion yelled as he cranked the steering wheel and the car swiped sideways. Romanov looked back forwards soon enough to see a figure in the distance that seemed to be massive. It was now running towards them tossing cars every which way. They came to a stop and ran inside a building. They took an elevator to the roof and exited. Just as they had the ground shook so violently that the elevator rocketed upwards and then back town the shaft, breaking the cable along the way. The both of them veered down from the roof.
“It has to be at least a couple of stories tall.” Ovmillion whispered as a thundering was heard as the elevator crashed through the basement.
“Thank you captain obvious, but what do we do about it?” Romanov questioned. They both watched as the creature rampaged below them. It appeared as if it had lost track of them. They both stayed atop the building, trying to figure out a plan for combating the goliathian monstrosity. It slowly phased out of existence as the local police arrived and the both of them were immensely relieved.
[Segment 111 - Otreum]
Ovmillion looked down at his wound, it had healed flawlessly for the most part. He noticed a green bruise around where the wound had been.
“Hm, I’ll probably need some sorft of an antibiotic soon, otherwise this gangrene will have its way with me.” Ovmillion said.
“That’s it!” Romanov shouted.
“What? Antibiotics?” Ovmillion questioned.
“No, you nimrod, gangrene.” Romanov answered. “It eats away at both the living and the dead. Obviously that thing is of the undead, so it can’t possibly be immune to it.”
“You’re nuts, you know that, right?” Ovmillion commented.
“Why?” questioned Romanov.
“Just how do you plan on infecting it with gangrene?” answered Ovmillion.
“That, I don’t know.” Romanov said and started pacing about the rooftop. Slowly day turned into dusk, and then into night. Until the city was lit by lights alone. There had been no sign of the undead scavengers or their newfound play mate. Ovmillion had taken over watch on the street below as Romanov still paced about. As Romanov approached the entrance to the elevator one of the many times, he noticed a slight change in temperature. He ignored it and a short while later it seemed as if it had decreased severely. romanov posted himself aside the doorway, waiting for the minion to immerge. Slowly it did and leapt out towards Ovmillion. Romanov cut right through the minion. Just as he had, he felt the ground quake. A goliath had appeared at the base of the building.
It made to either climb up the building, or to shake it to its foundation. Obviously the goliath was much too heavy to climb, so the building started swinging slightly one direction and slightly another. Ovmillion swore at the goliath as he watched it. Out of frustration alone, he started throwing bricks from the ledge along with tiles and anything else he could find. This was of course of much irritation to the goliath. The building was starting to bend and giveaway and Romanov started trying to judge the distances between this building and the next. It seemed as if anyone that was alive could make the gap, let alone anyone with the strength of an undead solider. Romanov leapt over to the next building and Ovmillion got up and made to do the same. In a final fit of frustration he threw the hunting knife he had strapped to his belt-clip. He joined Romanov on the other rooftop and made to descend down the stairs as he turned to watch the creature.
His knife shimmered as it descended downwards. It finally reached the creature and with the force it had gained on the descent, cut through the creature’s head and sunk in. The creature stopped shaking the other building and made to shake the other one and Ovmillion shrugged and descended downstairs. They reached the fourth floor and were eye level with the creature. It was hideous, but even in its repulsiveness it was making to scratch through what would be its scalp. It seemed to be growing a green color and deteriorating.
“Romanov, you genius, I could shake your brains out like he’s trying to.” Ovmillion laughed as they continued descending. They reached ground level and exited the back of the building. They both peered out from the alleyway. The creature was still trying to scrape away the infection. It finally ate past the goliath’s brain and it toppled down to the ground with a tremendous rumble. They both rushed downstairs and discovered what they least suspected; nothing, the goliath was gone. They looked around, figuring they exited the opposite side of the building, but they still found nothing.
Romanov and Ovmillion exchanged glances and just about then the entire city seemed to be pulsing. At first it was just a slight sudden burst of light. Then it became faster, less random, and also shifted, the city seemed to be becoming darker, almost as if it was fading out of existence.
“This is just strange.” Ovmillion commented.
“Yeah, no doubt something’s going on, lets make for your car and get out of here before something else decides it wants to stomp us like pancakes.” Romanov said.
“No complaints here, ” Ovmillion said and they both ran to his car.
Ovmillion floored it, figuring that whatever was going on was just in the area they were in. But the more the faster they seemed to go, the darker everything got. They managed to reach the outskirts of town. Romanov looked back soon enough to catch a glimpse of the You are now entering Otreum sign. Just then the city, the car, the landscape in front of them, and everything disappeared. He looked to find Ovmillion but there was no sign of him anywhere. He shouted but it was no use.
“So, you seem to have triumphed over my greatest creation.” said a disembodied voice.
“So? what’s it to you?” Romanov shouted in response.
“Nothing, I can make plenty more, that’s the lovely thing about this place, it’s my playground.” said the voice.
“Is that what you’re going to do now, make another laughable creation?” Romanov shouted.
“Well, you seemed to have gotten accustomed to dieing, now lets try living for once.” the voice said.
“I don’t..” Romanov said.
“Of course you don’t understand, but that’s not the point, the point is, I want to see how long you can actually keep living. Of course liek anyone else in your species, it won’t take long, and you’ll be back here under my care again.” said the voice.
“Satan?” asked Romanov.
“Nope, but close. I prefer to go by Hades. If you manage to see him though, tell him to quit hogging the lawyers, they’re fun for head-games.” Hades said and then the source of the voice appeared; it looked to be as if someone spliced a wolf’s head onto a human’s body.
“Bye now, see you soon.” Hades said and immediately even he disappeared and Romanov blacked out.
[Segment 1000]
Romanov awoke, and gasped for air. He was clueless as to where he was. He rubbed his eyes and kept blinking trying to focus on where he was. He seemed to be in some sort of hospital. Romanov looked around and noticed his wife, asleep on the chair next to his bedside. He moved to the side of his bed closest to her chair and made to wake her and a doctor rushed in.
“Sir! You’ve actually came out of it, I’m surprised we almost never get anyone back out of a coma in this wing!” the doctor said and rushed off. Romanov’s wife woke from all the commotion and looked up at Romanov, stunned. He smiled at her and she got up and hugged him. She pulled away and looked at him again.
“Man, have I had the most messed up dream ever, I’ll have to tell you about it later.” Romanov smiled, but it was forced, etched in the back of his mind was Hades’ figure and wink just as he disappeared. He went on through recovery and therapy, but he never could rid of the image, or of the many questions. Everyday he awoke with the thought of “Was it just a dream?” and many unanswered questions. He told his wife this, but she only suggested a shrink. No one could get any grasp on him. But that wasn’t the question that bothered him most.
He went to resume his normal life and walked up to his office building his first day back, and turned around. He looked around and then upwards.
“What if it wasn’t a dream, what if this is the playground?” Romanov muttered quietly, and went into the building. He shrugged as he entered the front doors and signed in. It didn’t matter anymore, He wasn’t on his own, he had everything he had previouslly, and more importantly he was cold, no more.
Originally published at x0pheRx //:: One more time. You can comment here or there.