At that moment, the key vanished from Heloise’s grip as well as the hypnotic state she had been under. Shaking the groggy feeling away, her eyes widened at her newly discovered prize. The moment she had incanted the magic word, the keyhole on the wall rotated ninety degrees and disappeared, along with the wall it was attached to, revealing a small recessed alcove. Within it, a marvelous rod that looked like it was crafted from a silvery-green alloy was fastened to the wall.
“Huh. Why do you suppose he’d hide something like that?” asked the cross-armed Alma.
“Do you leave legendary treasures just lying around when you’re not home?” replied the witch, her gaze centered on the magical item in front of her. She was practically salivating.
“I guess I wouldn’t if I knew an intrusive pair of snoops was going to be treasure-hunting around in it after I’ve left.”
Heloise couldn’t hold back her excitement any longer. She reached out and detached the staff from the metallic clamps holding it to the wall. Pulling it away slowly, she took a better look at it. A long, jagged piece of malachite acted as a ferrule and protruded sharply from the bottom of the staff. A more refined piece of the same mineral held the top and bottom portions of the staff together in the form of a grip, both of which were engraved with elegant, serpentine patterns. From the crown emerged various tentacle-like protuberances in the shape of basilisk heads that seemed to writhe upwards. Mouth agape and body in pre-strike, the heads were crafted emerald, with each face sporting two miniature, gleaming eyes made of citrine.
“You gonna hump that gaudy thing or what?”
“Try and stop me.” The witch snorted, chuckled, then began laughing exuberantly.
Alma laughed sincerely along, her elation growing now that the malaise and anxiety had finally waned from her only friend—to be quickly replaced by a fanatic craze that only the fiery sorceress could muster.
“I just need to bind it with my magical essence so I can use it effectively.” Heloise tapped one of the emerald heads with the bottom of her ring a couple of times and began chanting. Energy swirled around her hand and began infusing itself into the staff, causing the eyes on each serpent to glow bright. After a few moments, the current swelled largely and popped. Smoke began rising from the many pairs of eyes, indicating that the process was complete.
The two came up with a plan for their escape. Heloise studied the complicated banishment spell for a few hours while Alma struggled and strategized with the usefulness of her gun. If worse came to worst, she hoped that powerful ballistics would be enough to at least maim if aimed precisely at the limbs at least enough to throw off the momentum of a galloping creature.
“Got everything you need?” asked the markswoman, loading six Arcleesian charge shots into her gun. “I doubt we’re ever coming back here. Not even if you paid me.”
“Just shrinking a few things.” The witch was already testing the extent of her newfound treasure. She needed to analyze the wealth of power the staff held natively, without her initial input. She began by utilizing a shrinking magic on various books she had wanted to take with her. It was a simple magic, but refused to work on items past a certain size or on living things. She placed the various shrunken objects into her pouch and placed her old staff into the compartment on her back.
Alma stood in front of the wall they had entered through. Just like before, her eyes saw not a regular surface but a hazy, distorted plane. Unlike before, she kept her journeyman pistol at the ready and in-hand in case they found themselves face-to-face with the Neblina again. The gun had actually been a birthday gift from the witch, and so she used it at every opportunity when in her presence. Alma was now resorting to using the special bullets she had brought in case of emergencies rather than the standard ammunition—ones that she hoped could hurt the creature, or at the very least distract it while Heloise casts her spell. As she turned back to call her friend, something in the window across the room caught her eye, causing her to double-take. For a split second, she could see the face of a figure right outside the otherworldly window—hands with spindly fingers pressed firmly against the glass as it looked in. Or she assumed it was looking in, for it had no actual face but rather a head whose front was replaced with a horrifying blackened gulf that opened out to the darkness of space.
“Heliii.” Alma called to her friend, more pleadingly this time. She wanted to scream, but she didn’t want to show fear in front of her friend who finally seemed to be in better spirits after her own little meltdown. Alma couldn’t help but turn back slowly toward the window but on second glance the figure was nowhere to be seen. Had she imagined it? She was trapped in what had begun to feel like a cramped room for hours, with most of her time spent planning to go head-to-head with a living death trap. The stress seemed to be getting the better of her.
“Yeah? I’m ready.” Heloise carried the serpentine staff with a newfound sense of pride and a spring in her step as she walked. “With my new baby here, we can finally show that son of a bitch what a real witch is made of!”
“Really? Because you’re sweating.”
The witch glared at her partner before boldly walking through the portal. Alma took one last look at the window before joining her.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
The long pathway was shrouded in the primal darkness of the cavern. There was a short period before the magic torches surrounding the wall lit themselves up to cast an eerie, blue glow around them. There had been no visible sign of the Neblina, but the duo remained cautious. As they walked slowly through the dark passage back to the entrance, they began to notice small details they had completely overlooked while fleeing. The interior surface of the tunnels was carved into archways beset by long pillars, with certain walls having deep recesses full of elongated wooden cases. Dreams of immurement kept either from wishing to exhume the caskets for their contents of something they felt was obvious, but both wondered whether it was primitive inhabitants, the alchemist or his victims that fashioned this tunnel and where it would eventually lead to. The witch had surmised that most likely they eventually would have reached the entrance to an ancient, subterranean city built by the original occupants of the underground cave. She expressed disappointment over failing to discover it after so long, but figured the old alchemist had already plundered it of anything significantly valuable. Other parts of the walls were adorned with eerie portraits whose subjects were completely unknown to the two girls. It was a natural assumption that they were a later addition, a tactless attempt by the alchemist at making the place a bit homier.
The trip back had been surprisingly uneventful, so much so that the girls felt comfortable enough to make small talk of what they had planned upon their return. Heloise had already thought out more than a dozen ways to put her new staff to use. Alma on the other hand, had nothing going for her. She lived an unexcitedly bland life outside of the small moments she would spend either hunting or drinking. She was the type of person that would describe herself as boring to everyone she met, therefore she always considered her friendship with the young sorceress nothing short of a miracle.
As they approached the room at the bottom of the steps, Heloise heard a sound that made her stop speaking mid-sentence. She looked behind her and saw nothing but the cold, empty passage that they had just walked through. Yet she couldn’t escape the feeling that something was wrong. Try as she might, she wasn’t able to just chalk the feeling up to simple nerves. She definitely felt a presence. She felt its pure, unbridled hatred. The feeling of someone wanting to grab her. Mutilate her. Eat her. The impression was staggering. At the same moment, there was a thunderous bang right above her head which caused her to scream bloody-murder. Not the baying sound of a creature, but of a bullet hitting stone.
“Watch out!” Alma had grabbed her friend by the collar and pulled the witch into her arms. She had stopped to figure out why Heloise had suddenly paused and noticed that the malevolent thing had been right above their heads, crawling quietly along the ceiling. Alma felt sick, refusing to entertain the perverse thought that it had been following them the entire time, siphoning her friend's energy without her knowing. Spying on her. Hunting her as its next meal.
Her first shot had missed, as it quickly leapt out of the way the moment she fired—its teeth chattering disgustingly. It was fast and they no longer had the advantage of being able to flee. They were now backed into a dead end and Alma knew if they attempted to climb up the steps to get away, they would only be putting themselves in a disadvantageous position—especially now that she knew it had the ability to scale the walls. She decided to take aim at the monster once more.
The Neblina stood unmoving in the dark, staring them down without uttering a noise. An impact, right at its leg. Another grotesque sound as the bullet penetrated its flesh. Alma held her breath, waiting for the special ammunition to do its job. She didn't have to wait long. A sudden burst, under its skin, as the bullet exploded underneath. An actual wound that caused the monster to shriek an unearthly howl. It staggered forward onto its knee.
"Heli! The spell! Quic—"
Before she could finish her command, the Neblina had barreled right past her in an instant. Standing tall on injured leg, almost twice as tall as them, it held the young witch up by the throat.
Her legs dangled helplessly. Heloise was more frightened than she had ever been in her entire life. She wanted to scream but the grip it had on her neck was causing her to choke. Makeup-stained tears ran down her cheeks. She didn't want her life to end so quickly. So abruptly. There was still so much she wanted to experience. To do. With her.
"Let her go, you piece of shit!" Alma fired her gun once more, aiming for the arm hoisting up her friend. She made the quick decision knowing her friend was quite a bit of ways off the ground and hoped the fall wouldn't injure her too much.
The Neblina had wrapped its fingers tightly around the girl’s throat. Its bulbous head was glowing as it slowly sucked out her magical essence. The process was halted before it really began however when the bullet fired into his arm exploded, causing it pain enough to lose the grip on its prey. Its howl echoed throughout the walls of the tall cylinder of rock before snapping its head sideways to glare menacingly at Alma.
Heloise wasted not a moment the instant she hit the ground. Removing a small sheet of paper from her pocket, she immediately enlarged it with her magic and spread it out before her. On the large canvas was an intricately drawn circle composed of esoteric runes, neatly copied from the journal she had read. Scowling at the injured beast, she placed her hand on the circle and struggled through choked breaths to recite the incantation she had memorized from the scholar's notes.
Execrabilis Excecrari…
The energy from the staff began flowing from one arm to the other, exiting her hand and infusing the circle with magic. The sigil printed on the page began inexplicably spinning under her touch.
EX OBLIVIONE !
The runes swirled rapaciously as she spoke the spell, emitting an incandescence that grew brighter with each second. The creature pounced towards Alma, but found itself locked in place as the magic circle began enclosing around his torso.
“It’s working!” yelled Heloise, smiling painfully. The sweat of adrenaline mixed with the dried streaks of tears on her cheeks. “The Neblina won't hurt anyone anymore!”
At the mention of that name, the monster snapped its head back to look at Heloise. Any sort of pain it was suffering up until then seemingly ceased. It began emitting a rasping guttural noise from its throat they hadn't heard it make before. Like a series of short breaths, repeating over and over.
It was laughing.