11. A Hell of a Story

Streams of bubbles passed by Marie’s face, glinting in the distant light of the moon. Reptilian claws dug into her sides, pushing her down into the muck. Gnashing jaws clacked somewhere in the gloom just in front of her face. She struggled with all the strength she had left, but the creature was too strong. Seven-hundred pounds of pissed-off, undead reptilian were not easy to resist.

Muffled concussions sounded through the water, and Marie felt the impact as something smacked into the creature’s back. All at once, the pressure surrounding her released, and she was left floating in shallow water. Warmth pooled around her sides and she felt the world spin with sickening lightheadedness. So, the claws went deep, huh?

No time to waste, my darling, said the dusty voice. You’re not going to die in filth like this, are you? You’re better than that.

Marie reluctantly agreed and planted her feet firmly on the silty ground. The exertion sent lines of pain radiating across her sides and back, but she ignored it and pushed herself to a stand. Her head broke the surface and Marie gulped the damp air. A few feet away, she saw Shirley backing up and emptying round after round into the menacing rougarou.

The creature stood around six feet high and looked almost the same as the Voodoo Museum’s model. I’ll be damned. A massive crocodilian head sat upon scaly, broad human shoulders. Corded muscle wrapped around the creature’s arms. It brandished short, thick claws. Bullets ripped through the rougarou’s back as Shirley continued to fire. Small spurts of black blood turned to rivulets running in dark rivers, but the creature never stopped advancing. The crocodile head swung back and forth, hissing in the night air, opening its jaws and preparing to strike.

“Marie, any idea what the hell this thing is? Because it doesn’t seem to give a damn about silver, holy water, or any of the usual tricks.”

The rougarou charged, hunching over and ramming into Shirley with its flat snout. She flew backwards with the force of the blow and the creature dove into the water. Its long, horned tail swished back and forth, propelling it forward with immense speed.

Marie was stunned, unable to move, barely able to think.

Might want to pick that up.

Marie looked down and saw the small, silver outline of her spear bobbing in the water. “Will you stop helping?” It disturbed her when the voice was right, and she wasn’t ready to accept the implications yet. She picked up the silver tube and pressed the button. The spear extended to its full length, glinting in the moonlight. “Hey, ugly!” she shouted at the rougarou.

Nice one. Really original.

“This isn’t my strong suit, all right?”

Seems like your friend is dying, better hurry.

True to the voice’s words, if the rougarou noticed her insult, it hadn’t changed course. The water churned and boiled with the creature’s thrashing. The bright light of gunfire illuminated the murky gloom, followed by pods of bubbles floating up. Marie ran toward the fight, the water making the motion more sluggish than she would have liked. Then, when she was close enough, she raised the spear above her head and drove it toward what she hoped was the creature’s back. The spear struck something fleshy and slowed as it moved through it.

The reaction was immediate. Marie felt the spear wrench beneath her fingers and she was launched into the air as the rougarou sprang out of the water. Looking down, she saw she struck it in the right shoulder. As the creature reared, the spear slid out. Marie kept her grip but crashed back down into the water. The wind went out of her as she hit the surface and sank beneath it. In a daze, she held the spear out before her, the tip just below the surface of the water.

The ground shook with thundering footfalls as the creature approached. Marie’s lungs burned with the lack of oxygen, but she held firm. The surface broke and she caught sight of the creature’s horrible gaping jaw before it struck the spear. It let out an angry stream of bubbles and a muted hiss before rolling sideways. This time, Marie was unable to keep ahold of the spear. She was briefly tossed above the water and took a desperate lungful of air. Then, just as quickly, she was back under again.

Marie scrambled to her feet, bracing for the rougarou’s next attack. She coughed up foul swamp junk.

Shirley was on her feet, reloading ten feet away. The action was automatic. Her eyes betrayed the hopelessness she felt. They had shot, stabbed, and consecrated the creature, but it was still coming.

On cue, the rougarou stood from the water, streams running down its scaled skin. Bloody wounds oozed at every possible juncture, but the creature seemed completely unphased. It tilted its head back and let out another angry hiss.

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It’s being animated, thought Marie. Something about the rougarou’s movements reminded her of the zombies in the crypt. It was a single-mindedness that only came from being fully controlled by an external entity.

And who do we know that has a penchant for New Orleans flair? asked the dusty voice. You don’t think—

Ray, answered Marie. Now, shut up. Ray was nearby and he was summoning creatures of fantasy to kill her. Part of her was amused, another part furious, and the last, deeply saddened by what they would have to do if she survived the next fifteen minutes.

The rougarou ran at her again. Marie cursed herself for not looking for the spear but chalked it up to various head injuries and lack of oxygen.

This is going to hurt. The voice laughed. Well, for you at least.

Marie didn’t reply and braced herself.

Shirley fired several rounds at the creature. Each miraculously missed Marie when it punched through the other side of the rougarou, but none had any effect.

The impact of the rougarou’s scaly body on Marie’s might have been expected, but the force of it shocked her. Despite her best efforts, Marie exhaled in shock at the force. Seconds later, she was underwater, wishing she still had some of that precious breath left in her. She fought, trying to keep the creature’s gnashing teeth away, and felt nauseated as one scraped the side of her cheek, drawing blood. I’m going to be eaten alive. The creature rolled, swirling her through the water. Above, the moon shrank into a dark tunnel. I’m losing too much air. Claws dug into her sides, creating fresh wounds alongside the original gouges.

The rougarou opened its mouth for what was sure to be a killing blow and then time slowed to a stop. White lights illuminated the darkness around her. The world took on a now-familiar greyscale as ghostly figures rose from the muck. Through the dirty water, it was hard to make them out, but Marie saw that some wore concrete blocks around their feet. Others simply had lengths of tangled chains around their legs.

Whispering static filled the water as the ghosts approached Marie. An ill-fated tourist in a shredded floral shirt that read: ‘I love gators’ gave her a friendly smile.

I’m not doing that, said the voice in her head.

Marie didn’t think she was doing it either but felt a connection to the dead even stronger than in the square. So close to death herself, the barrier between her world and that of the spirits was precarious and thin. She reached out a hand to touch the nearest one, but it shied away and shook its head. It was a young boy, no more than twelve. He tilted his head toward the rougarou and pointed.

Through the pain and disorientation, Marie managed a nod.

The boy put his hands on the rougarou and dug his heels into the mud, pushing. Marie could feel his effort, the strain of his small frame against the massive creature. She also felt a carefree day, skimming along the edge of the water in a kayak followed by sudden darkness and pain.

A woman floated beside her, lips sewn shut by black stitches, eyes bulging, and bearing a rope around her neck. Despite the painful situation she seemed to be in, the woman winked at Marie and joined the boy in his effort. Marie felt a warm breeze on her face, terrible pain around her neck, and warmth flushing from her feet to the top of her head. There was fear, but also a terrible acceptance.

Ghosts clambered out of the mud one by one. Hundreds found their way out of the ground and all joined hands around the creature. Their pain and experience were overwhelming, but Marie took it all in. Amongst the pain and the suffering, she felt their intentions, warm and supportive. None of them wanted to see another body added to the swamp. The rougarou’s claws were slowly pulled out of her sides until the creature floated a few inches away, gnashing and struggling in confusion.

All at once, sound popped into the world in a horrible crashing cacophony. The water around Marie evaporated in an instant, turning to mist and sending a shockwave in all directions. The rougarou was airborne and flying at high speed toward the castle. Marie stood on the silty floor of the swamp, but the water above it was missing. She watched in awe as the crocodilian form crashed through the wall of the castle, breaking the stone like a child’s toy.

What the hell are you? asked the voice.

Marie shrugged and the water came rushing back in around her waist. She closed her eyes and listened for the quiet hiss of the spirits. Whispering stillness came to her across the water, and she could almost hear the voices through it. A tear came to her eye. She had never felt more thankful than in that moment and she put that feeling back into the water around her.

As the swamp settled, she heard splashing off to her right and saw Shirley running towards her. Marie turned and was surprised to see Shirley’s pistol was still in her hand.

“All right, what the hell was that?” she didn’t level the pistol but didn’t put it away either.

“I don’t know.” Marie laughed, unable to hold back the impulse. “I really don’t know.” Whatever it was, it had brought her purpose and certainty.

“Well, your eyes are glowing, and it's freaking me out.”

Marie looked down at her reflection in the water and saw the white-grey light in her eyes. With force of will, she extinguished it. The hissing static around her faded to the quiet sounds of the swamp. A part of her missed the company. “That better?” she asked, returning her attention to Shirley.

Shirley blinked and slowly put the pistol back in its holster. “For now, I guess. You good?”

“Never better,” answered Marie. It was honest. Energy surged through her in waves. She felt as though she could take on even the greatest foes with the power of the dead by her side. “Would you believe me if I said ghosts did it?” she asked, pointing at the hole in the castle wall.

“Marie, at this point, I would believe anything. So long as you’re not going to do that to me, we’re good for now.”

Marie smiled.

For now. The voice clucked an invisible tongue.

We’ll deal with that later. Truth be told, it didn’t bother Marie. She felt more powerful and far safer than at any time in her life. Nothing could touch her. “Looks like we don’t have to storm the gates anymore.”

Shirley nodded and started walking toward the castle. “I’d say it’s about the same level of conspicuous, but given our lack of a battering ram, I’ll take it.”

Together, they made their way toward the gaping hole in the castle.