Eldritch races through the hospital, even now muttering the beginnings of the terrible incantation she wrest from Thorm Athow. It spills about echoing through the hallways in a dark undertone and as she passes by the patients inside their rooms feel a chill settle upon their bones. They know not why, but each understands that Death stalks the hospital tonight. Tonight, life will confront death. But this fight will involve none of the medicine, anesthesia, and scalpels that mark the boundaries of most battles upon this ground. Tonight the battle will be with incantations, blade, and claws. The prize, as always, will be a life cut short or given time.
Upon reaching the room of young Theo, Eldritch's cant changes. It begins to settle into physical being about the room, arcane and twisted symbols settling into the walls and air itself. Here and there, her ever-moving voice echoes as though the hospital were a cavern. Tonight, her work begins.
Cloaked in a shield of stars and spells she begins to wrap the threads of her circle about Theo's bed. As if sensing her intent Death's monster begins to eat faster, daring her to complete the spell. But Belinda's stern reminder that one mistaken line will allow her opponent to destroy swiftly the entire night's work steadies her rushing fingers. Finally whispering the last spell the beast flies away from Theo's prone form as though its leash were pulled. Enraged it turns to Eldritch, who is reeling from the weight of the circle creation and unready for the coming fury of this fight.
Stumbling over her first incantation as the specter races forwards Eldritch fears this confrontation with Death will be far too intimate, but just as she falters her companion does not. Leaping forth in her hand the daggered form of Belinda rushes into combat. With a sickening sound, the metal blade encounters the slavering jaws of Death. Only for a moment as the monstrosities claws rake from the side forcing Eldritch to stumble, back before being hit. Advancing with dark fury the specter seems to have gained in substance and strength at the feast of Theo's helpless form.
The devilish dark form darts forth. That set of dagger like appendages reaching at Eldritch Maiden's throat with a ferocity unmatched in all the recesses of the world's various predatory havens. This beast desires more than merely a meal! It seeks retribution for interference, and with all its malefic purpose it strikes.
Again and again, it hurls itself against Eldritch's shinning dagger and barriers of light. But even as it shreds one paper-thin wall another forms impeding the steady strikes. When frustration finally overcomes the creature's sense, it hurls itself against her in a desperate attempt to beat the barriers! Now Eldritch strikes back twisting herself into the air and striking down against the hapless form of the specter.
What blade can injure Death? Dear reader, know this, even as her strikes land true the inky vile skin of the monster heals each blow! Death itself cannot die, not by mortal means. Nevertheless, injury might be done, even as momentary and fleeting injury as Eldritch inflicts. Still, these constant slices and stabs slowly sap strength from her foe, even if only momentarily. As the demon weakens, the night lengthens and the shadows grow. Shadows both by absence of light and those underneath Eldritch's eyes. For this constant barrage takes her energy too, and unlike Death she is not inexhaustible!
The race between Eldritch's endurance and Death's inexhaustible advance continues deep into the night. The daylight fades and with it in another part of town, a group of worried high schoolers attends a dance. Tonight a sense of trepidation tinges the revelry. The absence of two well-liked and well-known faces looms over the crowd. Even as they dance on a far more deadly dance continues between Hailey Juniper Penze and her unwelcome partner!
Her constant bladed attention to the devil's sides has rendered him cautious, for even if Death does not die it still feels pain. For her part the words to her incantations are slower, her limbs weighted down by a sluggish feeling beginning to permeate her bones. This cutting exhaustion has her stealing greedy breaths in between her words and allowing those daggered fingers to dart ever closer each time they approach. Slowly, ever so slowly, but with mounting certainty Eldritch is losing this fight.
Yet even as the haze of fatigue settles into her limbs and mind, a new roar builds within Eldritch Maiden. This savage desire is the same sensation that sustained her when she first gained her powers! The desire to survive. Those hardy survivors know this feeling all too well. It resides in all of us, unlocked during times of duress as we decide if living is worth the price life demands. Here, now, for Eldritch this cost is becoming too great.
She stands, back against the glowing bonds of her circle, valiantly protecting Theo! Yet this primal desire alone cannot stop the steady decline in her reactions or the stumble of her tongue. Even as this wellspring of energy sustains her, she knows all too well it has its limits. Tonight, she will need to draw deep or Theo will bear the cost.
So, back to the glowing wall, she fights on parrying the blows and sending forth strikes to harry the advance of Death. Now she unveils a new power, her ace in the hole. To buy more time she casts a spell upon her weapon itself and in an instant, it transforms to a shining whip she uses to strike. Then, even as she pulls it back, it transforms again into a shield that bears the onslaught of teeth seeking retribution for the stinging insult. In another moment, it becomes a dagger again driving deep into the horror's cheek. Ripping free of her blade the thing falls back for a moment. In that second, Eldritch's weapon unfurls into a long handled hammer that swings out into the skull of the monstrosity.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
Again, the tentacle sporting, slavering, demon falls back and again the weapon shifts. This time a whip sporting a barbed end strikes out and leaves inky darkness leaking from the wound for an eye blink before it seals itself. Repeatedly Eldritch transforms her weapon driving Death to the corner of the room where she boxes it in under the steady rain of different blows. But Death will not be denied!
After the aching sensation of an hour's time spent, striking goes by Eldritch finds her constant shifting declines in potency. The dark form begins to roil and shift itself, the sound of cracking joints interspersing her constant impacts with the flesh of the thing. It slowly begins to shift in shape and size. Losing the daggered fingers and growing new, shorter, bony joints in their place. Finally, after an age spent trying to impede its transformation it begins to dodge her constant rain of strikes.
Now ducking and dipping its way out of the corner Eldritch feels her advantage beginning to slip. Death became faster, adapting so it could react to the shifting strikes she ministers to it. Her tactic will no longer dominate the fight that much is certain. However, the power she brings is not completely negated. Her spelled weapon provides a measure of unpredictability and flexibility that makes it difficult for the quicker form to land a blow. Indeed even when she falters without those bladed hands she takes far less damage with each hit. But the assault of bones does take a toll. At the loss of her trump card, Eldritch begins to despair, knowing this night very well may end in failure.
The steady combat begins to weave uneven throughout the room as Eldritch falls back impeding Death's hound with the visitor's chairs. Seizing upon her weakness it extricates itself slowly, confident in its coming victory. Rearing upon its legs it now stands as tall, no taller! than Eldritch. The form weaves through the scattered chairs and about the bed. The object of tonight's endeavor, Theo, lies mere inches from the maw of the foul creature. But the object of its rage changed through the night. Now it scarce notices Theo, paying less attention to his vulnerable form than it did to the chairs it shattered moments ago.
Looming above her it twists that many-fanged mouth into a rictus grin. Struck dumb by the sight Eldritch Maiden only stares as it slowly, ever so slowly, glides to her. In her head, Belinda screams, entreating her to action. Yet the siren song of exhaustion lays a far more pressing claim to her mind and body. This fight is almost over, the demon reaching out as if to caress her cheek. His slavering jaws ready to rend flesh and spirit.
Then, a noise! It is young Theo! His murmur, the product of some fitful dream or nightly twitch, moves through the fog overtaking Hailey's mind far better than Belinda's pleading, now hoarse voice or fear of the looming Death. Fixating upon her purpose once again, she delves deep. Into the recesses of her spirit to find one last burst of energy to fuel a final spell. Her last card is the same card Wiccan threw in a desperate attempt to halt Malefic. But even as she begins bringing forth the spell to her mind, Belinda entreats her to find another way.
This spell demands a different sort of price than all others. This spell will consume Hailey! She will vanish so thoroughly that not even Death's hounds will be able to piece her spirit together for its journey to the afterlife. Hailey will be gone, her existence burned away in one final spell.
But for a creature of Death, this spell is an affront. Once cast it defies the very purpose of Death. As though it can sense her intentions it suddenly shifts agitated no longer leisurely stalking Hailey but careening across the room in a desperate attempt to forestall her spell. In this haste, Eldritch spots an opportunity.
The circle Thorm Athow taught her is more than just a ward against Death. It is the presence of life, weakening the creature to the point it cannot claim its victim. Over time, death always supplants life. But time is something this monster has not spent to eroding the circle. With clarity she moves, not to burn herself out but to collide with the demon. Unable to muster a single spell she can only rush headlong into the beast, feeling the full brunt of its claws and jaws. Still, she pushes it into the circle with her momentum driving it more than merely close to Theo but right into him! As the two meet Death fights desperately trying to push away the threads of her spell. But slowly it burns away and this time it does not regenerate.
Finally, after a long, aching minute fighting to hold the struggling creature in place its movements start to cease. But so too does Hailey's as she collapses to the floor of the hospital exhausted! With a low howl, the demon leaps away from the room and bursts out the window, dissipating into a long black streak against the night sky. It is not dead, for even the presence of life which causes pain cannot truly end Death's sting. Nevertheless, it is banished for a time. The night goes to a young girl too tired to care. Now slumbering with nary a thought in her mind so worn is her psyche.
Watching over her is the damaged spirit of Belinda. Her contact with Death left her weakened to a mere shadow of herself, for the coming days Hailey will need to function in lieu of Belinda's guidance. Guidance that may be sorely needed for as Hailey danced with Death tonight her friends across the city also found themselves dancing with a different kind of danger. For deep within the murky recesses of the city a ringing laughter echoes to the tap...tap...tap of feet on a dancefloor. Join us next week when the city roils under... "The Tune of Tango!"