The Devil's Pact Pt. 41

My stomach sank. "Really? Only heavy explosives seem to do anything to them. And we're running out of those."

"Hmm, describe them in detail."

"They're tall, maybe ten feet, and made of red clay. They don't feel pain or anything. They're like animated statues. We killed the Warlocks who activated them, but now they're attacking us."

"Interesting," Sam murmured.

"It's really not! These things are practically unstoppable!"

"They sound like golems," Sam said. "It's a Jewish legend. Supposedly they'll obey any command that their Warlock gives them. Is there anything written on the golems' foreheads?"

I peered through the auraculars at the nearest golem's forehead. There was something on its temple. Yes, two Hebrew letters. It was hard to make out which three as the golem lumbered forward. "Yeah, a two-letter Jewish word."

"That would be met, I believe," Sam answered. "It means death in Hebrew. Without a Warlock to guide them, it will just kill the nearest humans until it is deactivated."

"So how do we deactivate them? Outside of brute force?"

"Oh, destroy the word on their forehead," Sam explained. "That's probably what actually stopped them. The blast probably disrup--"

I hung up--I didn't have time for one of Sam's long-winded explanations--and screamed, "Shoot for the forehead!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Sergeant Holland shouted back, ejecting the magazine smoothly from his weapon and jamming in the next one, and started firing.

Bullets began peppering the golems' faces. The damned things were so close, so I drew my Colt.45, and aimed the pistol at the nearest one's face. My hand shook with adrenaline as I unloaded the clip. I missed with every shot.

"Shit," I muttered.

I ejected the clip, fumbling with the replacement magazine. The first golem collapsed in a heap of red rubble from the soldiers' fire, then a second and third. It was working! We could do this. I slammed the magazine into my pistol, released the slide, took a deep breath, and aimed carefully.

"You can do this, Alison," I whispered, then fired, emptying my entire clip in two heartbeats.

And missed with every goddamn shot!

I didn't even hit the fucking golem's giant torso. Shit! The damned thing was almost as big as the side of a barn. And I did so well on the practice range. I ejected the magazine, my hands shaking violently. I tried to calm them down, breathing deeply. How were all these soldiers so calm? How could they face down unfeeling and nonliving mounds of clay walking towards us like it was just another day at the office?

"We need to retreat!" Holland shouted. Half of the golems were destroyed, but the other ten were so close, about to summit the knoll.

"Fall back!" Desiree ordered. I didn't need to be told a second time.

Two of the soldiers, Millner and Vasquez, kept shooting, providing cover for our retreat, as the rest raced down the slope of the knoll. It was two miles to where we parked the vehicles. Two miles across broken ground and scrub bushes. We'd never outrun the golems. That didn't stop us from trying.

Fear spurred me as I ran down the hill, heedless of how dangerous it was. I didn't care that I might trip and fall and break my neck; I just knew that if those things caught me, a broken neck would be the least of my problems. The hill was dotted with olive-green brush that ripped at my arms as I raced by, leaving stinging cuts I barely felt. I reached the bottom of the knoll, thrilled that I somehow didn't fall, and I put all my effort into running as fast as I possibly could. I wasn't going to die here, killed by some fucking golem.

I stepped in a jackrabbit's hole.

The damned thing was practically invisible, dug into a tuft of yellow grass. My ankle twisted. Pain shot through my calf, blazing white-hot. I fell forward with a loud gasp, landing hard on my hands and knees. I couldn't lie here; those things would tear me apart. I pushed back up, struggling to stand. I put weight on my hurt ankle. It folded up like a cheap chair.

"Fuck!" I cried out, clutching it.

"Alison!" Desiree shouted, kneeling down next to me.

"I think I messed up," I said, trying to grin through the pain. I failed.

"Come on," she said, grabbing my arm.

Desiree put my arm over her shoulder and helped me up. She supported me. We struggled forward since I was reduced to hopping on my one good ankle. Behind us, I could hear thudding footsteps. I glanced back and saw six golems striding down the knoll after us, Millner's ruined body clutched in one of the golem's fists like a bloody, torn doll. Vasquez raced ahead of the advancing golems, running like the Devil himself was licking at his heels.

"Let's go!" Vasquez shouted, grabbing my other arm and, together, he and Desiree half-carried and half-dragged me away from the golems.

We didn't go fast. There wasn't much that I could do. I opened my mouth, prepared to tell my wife to leave me, but she shot me a warning glance that said: I love you, so I won't leave you behind to be torn apart. That forced me to struggle and use my one good foot, trying to push us forward as they carried me. The other soldiers quickly outdistanced us, and the golems kept advancing like a force of nature, uncaring, unfeeling, unmerciful.

Holland and the other soldiers reached a line of scrub, and turned to provide us covering fire. Another golem collapsed behind us, but those thudding footsteps grew closer and closer. Two more collapsed. A grenade sailed over our head, exploded, and I screamed in pain as something hot seared into my ass.

"Faster!" I urged, glancing behind me to see a golem only ten feet away, his arms outstretched. Christ, his hand was bigger than my head.

The gunfire was dwindling; the soldiers were running out of ammo. They drew their sidearms, carefully aiming, and opened fire at the golems. I could hear the bullets whistling as they flew right over our heads. I scrunched down, trying to hunker my head out of the soldiers' line of fire, and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to see what killed me. Whether it was the golem's grasping hand or my own men's bullets, I didn't want to know.

See what your stupidity has done! my subconscious railed. You never should have left his side!

"I'm sorry, Masters," I whispered; I didn't want to die. I wanted to be at Master's and Mistress's side forever with Desiree. "I'll wait for you with Chasity and the others in the Shadows. Yours forever."

* * *

Noel Heinrich - The Shadows

A battle raged around Chasity and myself, the other ghosts attacking my golems with silver swords. The golems would punch, but their blows were ineffectual against the spirits, unable to hurt those who were already dead. But their damned, silver blades could hurt my golems, hacking and biting into the clay, and sending chucks flying off to be dissolved by the mist. One golem collapsed, too much clay missing from its legs for it to be able to stand.

None of that mattered as Chasity stood before me, a silver blade in her hand. "Out of the way, Chasity," I growled. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You can't hurt me," Chasity answered.

I raised the black blade, the tear in reality, and Chasity's eyes fell nervously on it. "Don't be too sure, Chasity."

"Watch out," Karen called out from where she watched on the sidelines. "That's Mishbath, the Blade of Annihilation."

Chasity's eyes narrowed, but her resolve never wavered. "Turn back, Noel."

"I can't," I hissed. "He deserves to die. To have never even existed. I will set mankind free from his tyranny!"

"Please, Noel," Chasity begged, "Don't make me kill you. Remember that night we shared? The passion?"

"I remember that you threw your life away protecting them the next morning!" I screamed. "They made you their slave and then forced you to sacrifice your life. Just like all the other ghosts here! They are monsters, Chasity! Now step aside, or I will deliver oblivion to you!"

"Mark's the monster?" Chasity asked, eyeing the blade with disgust.

Purple face. Bulging eyes. Hands scrabbling at the garrote.

I pushed down the guilt. "He's enslaving the world; he needs to be stopped, Chasity."

"He's making it a better place."

"Of course you think that. You're still his slave!"

"I am," Chasity asserted, voice full of pride. "And that's why I can't stand down. He's my Master."

"And you threw your life away for him!"

"No!" There was anger in Chasity's voice. "My death was not in vain! He learned compassion from it! He stopped seeing us as merely things, but as humans with hearts. That's why he set you free! He felt guilty for what happened to me. He learned compassion from my death. He's only human. He's made mistakes!"

"He's a beast! A monster! He unleashed Lilith, and look at all the harm she's caused!"

"Lilith tricked him!" Disgust curled Chasity's lower lip, her eyes flickering to the abomination clutched in my hand. "You summoned Ashtoreth, and you call him a monster? He's never murdered anyone! I know what you had to pay to own that blade! Whom did you strangle?"

Bulging eyes and a purple face staring up at me.

"I did what I had to!" I spat.

"The excuse of a tyrant."

"I am a patriot!" I shouted, rage screaming from my lips. I swung the blade at her face.

The mists parted before the blade, snapping back like a taut string severed; the fog screamed in my mind as oblivion claimed a small portion of it. Chasity raised her silver sword. Negative black struck shining silver, the blades locking together with a sickening screech that vibrated my bones. I drew back and hammered another blow at her. She parried. Again and again I slammed Annihilation at her. Again and again she blocked my fury.

"Are you so eager for oblivion?" I snarled. "One slip-up and you're gone, Chasity! Just let me pass!"

"I will face oblivion for him," Chasity resolved, her face fierce and beautiful, her voice full of passion. "He is my Master."

I had tasted that passion before. Memories of that night--her last night alive--of rapture we'd shared flashed through my mind. We'd loved each other passionately. This woman had consumed me with her ecstasy. The emotions I'd beaten down into the depths of my soul after Chasity's death came rushing out, screaming in protest as I strove to drive my blade into her body.

"Please," I begged, trying to bottle them up again, but they were like a gas hissing into the atmosphere, impossible to collect again. "Please don't make me do this." Tears rolled down my cheek.

"Then stop! Walk away." Her sapphire eyes softened. "I loved you that night. Maybe, if I hadn't died, we could have been something more."

Her words slapped me. I stumbled back. No. Be strong. Liberty had its price. Blood must be shed, even if it's the blood of your friend, your lover. With an animalistic scream, I leaped at her. Annihilation swung through the mist, the fog crying out in pain as the blackest blade cleaved through the vapors toward Chasity's body. For just the merest moment, profound grief and regret flashed across Chasity's face, then iron-hard resolve glinted in her sapphire eyes. Her sword stabbed forward.

It didn't hurt as her blade slipped between my ribs.

Annihilation fell from my suddenly useless hands before the abominable sword could connect with Chasity. For a moment, I stood there, impaled upon the silver blade, staring into Chasity's ice-blue eyes. Her face broke and twisted into sadness. She reached out with a trembling hand to grab me, but my legs buckled and became useless. I slid backward off her blade, moving out of reach of her hand, and landed on the ground with a grunt.

I stared up at the never-ending mist as my lifeblood spilled out, staining the gray ground red. I shivered, a numbing cold spreading through my limbs. Chasity stood over me, tears running like silver rivulets down her cheeks. She bent down and picked up the terrible blade.

"Do it," I whispered, the guilt consuming my soul. I had murdered that girl for the blade. She had been so full of life while I was only full of death. "Send me to oblivion."

She swung the sword at my head.

Only it missed, burying in the gray ground just above the crown of my head. Something inside me snapped, the chain wrapped around my soul--my slave chain--was severed, setting me free from bondage to Lucifer. Free from his torment, but not free from my punishment.

"I don't deserve this," I sobbed as Chasity knelt down next to me, grasping my hand. A rough, wet cough rattled out of my throat. Copper filled my mouth. "She was an innocent."

Chasity stroked my face, bent down, and kissed me on the lips. When she pulled away, they were stained red. "We all make mistakes, Noel. Some are just worst than others."

"I'm scared," I whimpered. The cold spread through my torso. My vision shrank, leaving only Chasity's beautiful face. "Don't let me go."

"I won't," she whispered.

"I'm so sorry, Roxy," I cried out. That was her name. Roxy. She'd run away from home. Fled from one horrible adult to an even worse one. She had wanted to be an actress, heading to Hollywood on what would be her big break.

I stole that from her for something as meaningless as vengeance.

My eyes closed. Regret filled me. That was living: regretting all the hurts you heaped on your friends, your family, on strangers; regretting all the missed opportunities. All the chances to have fun, to take risks, to experience love and companionship. What was the point in living if you never actually lived? I had let the anger and rage at Mark consume me, burning out all the good parts of my soul and leaving behind only ashes. Regret.

My heart slowed. All feeling faded away from me, the clammy mist upon my face, the rough ground beneath my back, the shuddering pain in my torso. Every sensation was bleeding from my body except one single hand gripping mine, full of love and forgiveness. I clutched at that hand as I hung over the precipice of death. I didn't want to be alone and full of regrets. I wanted love. I wanted Chasity.

My heart stopped beating.

My soul fell into the darkness. But I held on to Chasity's hand with a death grip, unwilling to let go. I was like a woman hanging from a cliff mere moments from plummeting to her death. Her only hope of surviving is a strand of flimsy grass. So she clutches it, knowing the blades are too weak to support her weight, but not caring because she so desperately wants to live that she'll do anything, no matter how impotent, to survive.

I didn't want to plummet off my cliff, so I clutched Chasity's hand with all my strength--my blade of grass--and hoped for a miracle.

Sometimes, miracles happen.

I opened my eyes. Chasity's face shone above me. I sat up and left my physical body behind. The mist assaulted my corpse, dissolving it like Styrofoam in nail polish remover. Joy surged through me. I wasn't going to be alone! I hugged her, and kissed her on the lips, warm and wonderful. Her arms wrapped around me, holding me tight, and her lips kissed down my cheek to my ear.

"I didn't let go," Chasity whispered. "You're one of us now. Somehow, your soul is tied to mine."

"I chose love," I answered, caressing her cheek. "I didn't want any more regrets."

* * *

Alison de la Fuente - Patriot's Headquarters, MT

I was braced for death. Readied for it.

And it didn't come.

Instead, there was a groaning noise and a loud thud as something heavy crashed into the ground behind me. The gunfire stopped. The soldiers cheered, whooping and hollering with unabashed joy. I forced myself to open my eyes and look back. Strewn across the ground behind us were six piles of red clay, one just feet away. A small line of crumbling clay, leading from a huge mass, ended just inches from my foot. The thing must have been just heartbeats from wrapping its strong hands about my neck and squeezing the life out of me.

Shouts of joy roared from the soldiers.

Shakes wracked my body as Vasquez and Desiree set me down. We were alive. Energy surged through me. I grabbed my wife and kissed her thoroughly on the lips. We survived! She held me tight, trembling in my arms. We defeated the Patriots, stopped their attack, and lived to keep serving our Masters. Desiree thrust her tongue into my mouth; my fingers stroked her neck and cheeks, savoring her warmth, her life.

I was so happy I didn't even feel the pain in my broken ankle.

I saved Master and Mistress. I protected them. We'd foiled the Patriots, maybe even destroyed them, and that was amazing. And if we hadn't, I'd keep fighting. I'd hunt them all down. All the Warlocks who threaten them!

I saw that same determination in my wife's eyes. I held her even tighter, grateful that Master brought us together.

To be continued...