Valerie watched the procession of ghouls approach, a sea of gnashing teeth, chipped claws and desiccated flesh encroaching from all sides. Time seemed to slow as the undead atrocities drew ever closer and she was suddenly met with a most disheartening thought.
“Am I going to die?”
She had faced numerous terrible creature who offered a worthy challenge or forced her to face near death scenarios, yet, in her current agitated state, seeing these humans’ turned monsters racing towards her filled her mind with thoughts of her impending demise. There was so much she hadn’t done yet, so much she wanted, so much she HAD to do, and she had just gotten a name to boot. She didn’t want to die, couldn’t die until she accomplished whatever she was meant to do with her life. Staring down the marred visage of a ghoul as it rose up before her ready to sink its teeth into her flesh she realized she was in for an even worse fate.
“Will I turn into one of these?!”
Anger bubbled up inside her at the very thought of becoming a monster, loosing her humanity and mind to a curse of all things. If there was one thing Valerie refused to give up it was the independence she desired for her entire life. She was her own person, she was her own warrior, she was Valerie Hunt and there was not a chance she was giving that up so easily. Despite her resolve, there was still the matter of her frozen in place and unresponsive body. It wasn’t a spell or anything physical binding just her own nerves locking her in place due to the accumulated terror. The loss of motor functions was not new to her as she recalled a similar incident some months back. Her mind flashed to the temple Samantha obtained her second aspect from; she remembered how she had regained her focus and broke from the control. Unable to shift her arms, she moved the only part still under her control.
Just as the ghoul before her was inches from gutting her, she slammed her teeth together digging deep into her tongue and caused a trickle of blood to begin pouring out. The sudden rush of pain shattered herself made stasis allowing her to narrowly avoid a gruesome fate. She screamed in righteous fury and ducked low, the monster sailing over head as she swiped upwards, the edge of her knife biting against the undead’s neck. In a flash she decapitated the monster, its twice lifeless body crashing against the back wall while its head rolled after it. Undeterred, the rest of the ghoulish hoard surged forth clambering over one another to tear into the living flesh.
“COME ON!”
Valerie yelled, blood and spittle flying from her mouth as she grabbed the unlit torch and tightened her grip on her knife. She met the onslaught, bashing one undead with the makeshift club and stabbing another from under neath their chin. The blade didn’t reach far enough, and the ghoul gnashed its teeth until Valerie dragged the knife and monster down delivering a knee into the butt of her weapon. This broke the creatures jaw and brought the edge home skewering its rotting brain from below. She tore her weapon from the soft flesh parrying a side swipe and bashing another ghoul away. An oddly long armed undead attempted to wrap its arms around the huntress’s head but was halted as one limb was severed and the other broken before being tossed into a group of its brethren. Another ghoul was leapt over as it tried and narrowly succeeded in slashing at the huntress’s legs. This earned the clever undead a well-deserved stomp to the head which caved in easily sending bits of brain and skull flying.
Valerie became a whirlwind of bashing and slashing, constantly in motion and using the undead as shields against one another as she tore through their ranks. She was not getting away unscathed however as the ghouls claws ripped at her flesh and tore her gear into rags. Since arriving in the Capital neither Valerie nor Samantha had acquired the funds to purchase some proper armour and had to rely on the bits and pieces Dale Junior fashioned for them. Right now, Valerie was suffering the consequences as deep scratches and cuts began to appear along her arms and face marring her figure. It didn’t matter to the huntress however; she could fight naked covered from head to toe in cuts with all the hair on her head ripped out and she still wouldn’t stop.
Watching the savage display from atop his throne was the spectre, although he only pretended to sit lazily while actually hovering a foot off the seat. While some instincts remained, his thoughts were nothing like when he was alive and all he saw was a useless living girl who futilely resisted her assured death and ascension to the world that was undeath. Still, she was whittling down her future brethren more than the spectre would have liked, so he decided to intervene. Raising his bony hand again, he snapped his fingers the sound echoing throughout the entire chamber and causing all the candles to suddenly go out. Darkness enveloped the room, and the ghost grinned a lipless smile. The warrior didn’t stop however, she kept going hacking and slashing at nothing and everything, her furious breaths overtaking the wet slap as rotting flesh hit the floor. It didn’t matter if she could see if everything around her was an enemy. The surprisingly tenacious display made the wraith wonder if making her a ghoul was too wasteful, she had skill and a healthy body both, it would be a shame to lose out on such rare traits.
Henry Rutherford had been a general in life and died in service to his country against the demonic hoard, his lasts thoughts only on the rightful spot he had earned in paradise with the divine. What he got instead however was a curse that left his spirit restless and without escape. He lay in his tomb for decades unable to move, unable to speak but able to think, to beg, to go mad. He eventually figured out how to separate his soul from the rotting mess that was his body and move around his mausoleum as a spectre. He roamed the four corners for what felt like eons, becoming familiar with each stone crevasse and watching the life cycle of countless spiders grow and wither away. Then one day he received a visitor, a man of the clergy had come to visit him or so he thought. In reality the priest intended to steal the few possessions the general was buried with. Enraged, the spectre appeared before the priest causing the man to stumble and fall back hitting his head on the edge of the grave killing him instantly. The spectre that was formerly Henry resented the dead man and cursed his dying body a gesture that had more than the intended result. The priest rose back up, his face hollow and eyes hungry for something. The ghost found he could control the newly formed ghoul and with the right fodder create more of them, a plan of vengeance slowly forming in his corrupted mind.
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The wraith had been happy to slowly grow his army of ghouls and lead them into battle eventually but now watching his troops be cut down like lambs to the slaughter he reconsidered the idea. An army was made up of useless infantry and far more useful generals just as he had been. The knife wielding girl could make a good commander for his army, that is if he could figure out how to keep her from becoming a ghoul. There would be time to experiment later when the girl was finally dead and was she ever making that difficult. The spectre could plainly make out the girl’s destruction in the dark and watched as she completely bisected a ghoul while stabbing another with the broken shaft of her torch.
“She’s pretty something isn’t she?”
A sweet voice asked the spectre. Twisting around in the air, the wraith searched for the speaker and found a cloaked girl stood before the dais. He was sure he felt just a single soul enter his tomb, the huntress before him the only possible candidate. Despite this there was unmistakenly another person in the chamber with them, so why couldn’t he feel their essence? Samantha didn’t know it at the time, but her aspect had yet another passive effect as, like a shadow, she had no presence whatsoever. Where it not for her near permanent aura, she could blend seamlessly into a room or disappear entirely from a person’s perception. Ghosts, and by extension all undead, could not feel fear or any other biological functions thus she was their natural antithesis.
After realizing the two had become seperated, Samantha followed along the corridor only to find the violent scene currently being played out. Despite standing directly in front of a ghoul it didn’t react or notice her at all and neither did the ghost in the middle. She fully intended to jump into the fight and help her friend until the lights went out eliminating all shadows to pull from. All she could do was keep out of Valerie’s way and try to get the candles relit or find some other source of light. Luckily, she found something her friend dropped, and an idea formed in the shadow user’s head. Rearing back, Samantha tossed a wrapped-up ball while calling out.
“Val, over here swipe up!”
The huntress’s ears perked up at the sound of her friend and she did as instructed only to miss the thrown item by a good few feet. No one could say Samantha would make a good pitcher but at least she tried. As the ball landed against the ground, Valerie made out the telltale sound of glass shattering and leapt forth unknowingly dodging a swipe to her neck amidst the frantic manoeuvre. She fell on the wrapped-up ball uncovering it to reveal the shards of her lantern and the oil within splattered over the balls fabric. Understanding Samantha’s idea, Valerie struck the wall with her knife trying to create a spark as the ghouls raced towards her. The lead ghoul was briefly blinded when a flicker formed igniting the cracked lantern and fabric both. Valerie tossed the flaming cloth at the hoard causing them to become yet more fuel to the fire. All undead shared an inescapable weakness to flames which the dumb struck ghouls were forced to learn firsthand.
The room was suddenly engulfed in a crackling blaze of light that revealed the sorry state of the huntress. She got a brief look at herself and was shocked at the state she was in, adrenaline clearly dampening much of the pain otherwise she doubted she would be standing right now. With a resurgence of shadows Samantha was able to take the field and quickly acted before the light died out again.
“Dark Pincushion!”
She yelled out while sweeping her extended arm around a full circle. The self-named spell caused every shadow in the room to erupt with chains shooting forth in all directions. It twisted her gut and almost caused her to pass out from the absurd number of magically conjured chains, but the effort bore fruit. The ghouls soft skin and brittle bones were struck countless times, the low force of the chains more than enough to debilitate the undead minions. As quickly as they had appeared, the chains vanished with their task completed.
The spectre watched as every last one of his troops was brought low in a single pincer attack. His mind briefly returned to his old days as a general and he wondered if that was the right word or if he was losing his keen militaristic insight. Shaking off the age-old memories, the wraith tried to escape by disappearing through a wall but found his intangible form caught on something. A single black chain had looped its way through the ghosts hollow bony leg capturing him like he was caught in a bear trap. He stared down at the girl holding onto the chain her golden hair and wide smile a picture of malevolent innocence, yet it was the eyes that he could not escape from. He was dead, long beyond the point of feeling emotion but looking into those blacker than black holes in the universe he felt something akin to fear for the first time in years. In his stunned state he failed to notice a second chain loop around his neck before it was pulled taut. The wraith was dragged down to the ground, the huntress pulling at the chain around his neck while the terrifying girl yanked at the one through his leg. He could see his troops, battered and unable to rise as well as the slowly dying fire, if he could just wait a little longer he could be free.
“NOW!”
Fortunately, that time would never come as Valerie and Samantha simultaneously pulled at the chains on either end. A soft pop filled the room and the wraiths head flew from his body as did one leg. His incorporeal form disrupted, the ghost evaporated into a cloud of miasma, his undead followers growing still as their master’s influence left their body. All fell silent as Valerie stood panting and feeling the soft trickle of blood escape many wounds along her body. She frantically searched her shredded clothes for the half-filled healing potion and immediately downed the rest of the contents. Her wounds slowly repaired themselves though not entirely, she would definitely need to see some physician or healer to finish the job and make sure she hadn’t caught anything from the disgusting undead. She was just thankful none of the ghouls hit anywhere vital or gotten to her eyes. Without a scratch on her, Samantha sidled up next to her friend, she was going to pat her on the back but decided otherwise seeing the deep red oozing through her shirt. Valerie glowered at the shadow user ready to tear her a new one for abandoning her when she noticed something was off. Turning back to the dying fire she figured out what Samantha had wrapped the lantern in.
“Your… cloak?”
She said is rasping breaths.
“Hmm? Oh yeah needed something flam- flameb- something that would catch on fire.”
Samantha answered forgetting the right words. The light flickered out, obscuring the complicated expression Valerie now wore. She wanted to berate her friend for coming in at the last second once again. How many times had she done almost all the hard work for Samantha to waltz up and do something crazy and save her life or pull of a cool move? Yet this time, she was forced to sacrifice something she held so dear to save Valerie. It didn’t mean she forgot all the times her friend seemingly waited until the last minute to arrive or that she would forgive the fact she wasn’t here to help during the majority of the fight. Speaking of.
“Where… were you?”
Valerie asked anger tinging her words. Samantha sucked in a breath through her teeth before sheepishly answering.
“I might have… fallen down a hole.”
Valerie’s eyebrows rose up and her eyes went wide, she wasn’t sure if she should laugh, cry, faint or all of the above. A lesson to be learned, even if you can see in the dark always look where you’re going and watch out for deep holes.