Chapter 10: Through our Remains

Ashes filled the air. Maxwell and Maeline treaded carefully. Each step spewed more dust. Drawn to both, dust of the once living fell silent on them. Death had not been a stranger to him as of late. Through all his investigations. Local crime scenes in Insmourn, the incidents in Grayland. Being sent from one country to the next at times by Planetary defensive leader Grengraw. This had hit different. Frantically with his eyes aglow golden, they dashed madly from large black blob of particle to the next.

All he could sense was the death of every being here. Calm, happiness, rejoicing, pain and suffering all muted by chaos. The black particles a rain cloud of black death over each soul. Melaine held onto him tightly as he howled and repeatedly struck the white marble tile. Shards flung all about. Small fist sized craters grew with each fist strike. They grew larger with each blow.

Choruses of voices pounded his skull. Indecipherable each voice rose over the other. Help was the only word that could be heard from each ghastly cry. His gold eyes began to dim. Each scream and plead for help weighed upon him. Punishment for not being able to save the ones in danger while on a case? The penalty for not solving a case gone cold? Pleads from the victims and lost souls murdered and lost to time? Suicides that blamed him for not being there in time?

“I’m sorry! I cannot help you! There is no way to—” Pain tore through his chest and he spun around. A hand grasped his shoulder. Melanie’s hand rotted and fell to dust in front of him. She gagged on the ashes. Black sludge, like they had found in the fish barrels flowed down her throat. On the shore, in the creatures and on the waves themselves they had also spotted this.

“Maxwell come on! Stop its ok!” Melaine’s words called out. His changed ears twitched and he looked straight ahead. The gold returned to his eyes. In front of him black sludge and a pile of ashes spilled out of outstretched hands. Melaine had been wrapped tight around him.

“I’m here. Don’t worry.” Trying to clean his hands of all this muck was a challenge. When they were clean enough, after wiping them off on a discarded shirt. With mostly clean, clawed hands he took Melaine’s.

“Do me a favor real fast. Contact all the others and let them know something is going on in the hospital. Potential all of Mare Clasum.” Maxwell said.

Melaine nodded and took out his holoframe. They had went back and snatched them before going deeper into the current mess. Coughing came from behind him. Followed by ragged breaths. Melaine was not doing so well. Glass shattered before him as he swiped at an inoperable sliding door. Outside could have either been described as either a Hellscape, or Purgatory. More cries followed by long bouts of silence. Smoke filled the air. Fires spewed out from buildings, cars and below the city streets. Some vomited profusely, others held their loved ones as they convulsed and died. From underneath a vehicle a person attempted to stand. Their bodies completely mutilated. Torn flesh from head to toe.

“I see them! Our saviors have come! Praise Grayland and the ones from beyond! They will deliver us from death and the endless darkness!” The man yelled. Followed shortly by a woman. In unison they dug into their eye sockets and yanked out their eyes. With shaky, bloodied hands they held them to the sky.

“Take our offerings. COME!” They screamed.

Maxwell’s eyes shone a brighter gold, as an energy above the two swirled down. Black as pitch, draped in red the strand snaked. The eyeballs were carefully plucked. Like two fingers had carefully plucked them out of a tray. Maxwell took a few steps back as a loud crash startled him. Much like the beetles that rushed them at the forge and in the cave, one large entered his sight. This one almost resembled the Water Strider in a way. With thick white mucous flowing out of its mandibles. Armored with a thick scorpion tail.

Spices filled the air. One arm tossing up a meal slapped together for some out of towners. Chicken, peppers, beef, carrots, broth and a hint of ancient Clausum milk, simmered in the wok. Usually, he refused to have any help. This time he had a pair of tattooed hands to help him out. She smiled and was throwing a dessert together. A cake with three layers. With buttermilk, chocolate, pecans, coconut and the ancient milk, condensed. Metlock was rather proud of it. When he did have the cows to make some. Borrowed them unfortunately, had to send them back many years ago.

Before the group had split after returning to Insmourn, Eralar was adamant about coming with Metlock. Worried about him using one arm to defend himself. She also had nowhere to go besides hunkering up in the annals. He had asked a few more questions. Ones he didn’t have a chance to ask back on the boat. Mainly to do with fighting. How she survived each encounter, while learning to use her power, or “gift” properly. Longingly he glanced at the stump of his arm. He didn’t expect to chat or make a new friend, but Eralar had been rather talkative. A surprise to him in retrospect, had asked her to do some training. Mostly to shoot targets.

Over the next few days. Hundreds of targets exploded. Blown to bits by bullet holes. Slashed and shredded by her magic. After hours of silent concentrated destruction, Metlock tossed on a straw hat. The wind picked up sending both of their hair flowing past them. He rolled his eyes.

Those blasted ugly turkey legged fucks better not show up outside my door. He thought.

Lockjaw thumped his shoulder. He motioned his head back to the home and they both returned for the day. His eyes fell to her hands. She held out two creatures. One being a creature with a long neck and stubby legs. The other a small marmot.

“I used to play this all the time with my friends as a child. While we were locked away before the rituals separated us, often permanently. Rarely was there time as I got older, while out in Duneweave on missions.” Eralar said.

“We simply choose our piece, and we race.”

Metlock leaned in and picked one of the inky pieces up. They did not immediately collapse, and he gave her a curious glance.

“Sure. Game on. How do we play?”

“You just must focus your energies into it. Don’t worry too much about all the details. The elder chancellors and star callers said we all carry a certain amount of energy.”

“Just needed the first bit. Let’s give it a go, ready miss?” Metlock held the one with a long neck. Gave it a quick shake and set it down.

“We race to the door. The winner gets a boon next training match. Two-minute head start, and the loser must make the next animal out of shrapnel from the targets.”

He gave her a nod. The two ink animal places took their places on the wood tile. Metlock his eyes, as Eralar counted down from five. At two he opened his eyes. Giving Eralar a quick nod with the straw hat. At zero both pieces took off. Eralar kept her hands on her head for the entire race. It was a tie the entire way. She couldn’t believe it and squeaked with surprise. Metlock couldn’t help but grin. Headfirst, both pieces struck the door at the same time. Accompanying the end of the race, a knock came from the door. Both stood and moved to answer the door.

“How did you do that? It was your first race!” Eralar whispered.

“Just practice and belief in myself.” Metlock replied nodding and pointing at the stumped shoulder.

Wind gently rushed in sending a few leaf’s inside. Tipping the straw hat up, he rose a brow at the two before him. Rather striking, was a woman with gray eyes and long black hair down her back. Dressed in all black. An anchor marked on the upper right arm of the jacket. The hood attached to it currently was rested down. The other one, he presumed to be a man, did have a hood on. With red eyes and a bandana over their face. Calmy steel hands crossed in front of him. Eralar was occupied picking up the two inked animals. Stunned that they tied.

The woman spoke. Her voice calm and quiet, yet icy.

“Sorry if we are intruding. We have come quite a way and were pointed in this direction for some food and rest.”

“Glad my little spot is getting some attention. Now I can get you two some chow cooked up. Afraid that I’m not a hotel. Mind waiting a bit? We just got back no longer than twenty minutes ago.” Metlock said. Looking over them carefully.

“That is okay. We do not mind waiting. Can think of a place to stay while we wait. Sure, one of those places back in town will take us in.”

“Well now. Don’t be shy come on in and get comfortable.” Metlock turned and went behind his little counter, gesturing to the black board and menu. Eralar shyly smiled at the two. Both gave her a kind bow and went to be seated.

The gray eyed woman told Metlock want she had wanted. Her robotic companion politely declined and laughed.

“I’m very sorry. My input does not allow me to consume “human” food if you will. I doubt you have a generator or tether that can supply my energy demands. Thank you kindly for the offer.” They said.

Metlock shouted at Eralar to join her in the back. Once they left the two strangers examined the room. The picture on the wall drew their attention.

“Targets acquired. Avaron was correct, all sparks confirmed. Woman that is here unknown variable.” The metal construct spoke, red eyes focused intently on the picture.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Good to hear Yizmola. Stay the course. For now, we leave these two in peace.” She sat down and crossed one leg over the other. With a long drawn out sigh her breath formed a small crystal on the counter. Prismatic colors danced in her eyes. Her companion folded their arms behind their back walked around the room, simply taking in the sight.

After about an hour of preparation Eralar and Metlock came out with the food. The gray eyed woman stopped fiddling with the crystal in her hand. Shocked by the smell of the food, Metlock was sure he could hear her stomach growl from here. Her companion was busy observing mantles on the wall while humming a tune unknown to his ears.

“Wow this looks and smells great. Have not had a meal like this since I was in Ovoroth.” she said and began to dig in.

Perched up on his toes Metlock couldn’t help but react to the comment.

“Ah. Are you from Ovoroth then by chance?”

“I am. Have not been there any many years now. At least two decades now.”

“I see, if this isn’t to pry full, may I ask how you landed here in Mare Clausum?”

The plate before her was quickly vanishing as she ate quickly. Must have been starving. In a brief pause between mouthfuls, she said:

“Came from Grayland. Just here to get this bolt bag some old parts. Can’t replicate what he needs up there for whatever reason. Been here once, a long time ago. The Forge has plenty of scrap, some likely in mint condition just sitting there.”

“Well best of luck to you. Take some caution though. Most folk around here don’t like machines. Quite the history with us and Grayland.” Metlock said. With one hand he took her plate once she had finished up. Her eyes sparkled as she eyed the cake. Eralar reacted the same way and nodded enthusiastically.

“Thanks for the warning. We will do our business as fast as possible and be out of your hair.”

Metlock nodded and took the plate back to clean. The girl’s expression had been cold and stern most of the time they had been there. It cracked once her and Eralar’s eyes met. Her eyes softened and she smiled. The cake was delectable. One of the best things that ever graced her taste buds. Eralar smiled and leaned over the counter, whispering the recipe to her. The two chatted for a while. Sitting next to them for a time the stranger’s metal companion sat on a stool next to them. Observing and absorbing their information. Hours passed and the four of them chatted away. Time flew by, alcohol not even needed as they enjoyed each other’s company. They even raced. Three of them tied. The robotic companion’s piece did not move, and sad tunes played from within him. Night fell and time had come for them to part. Metlock and Eralar escorted them outside to their vehicle. Slick black steel with a navy-blue etched anchor of Ovoroth on its hood.

Metlock and Eralar were both shocked, as the woman hugged them both. She held out a crystal for each one of them to have.

“Just a parting gift if we do not meet again. I’m Cleia and this bolt head over his Yizmola.” She said. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Yizmola calmly placed his hands on her shoulders and opened the car door.

“Thank you as well. Tonight was great fun. Nice and calm after a while of nonsense.” Metlock said and laughed.

“The hospitality was most welcome. Thanks for taking good care of us. May we meet again.” Yizmola said and ducked into the car.

Before the door shut, they waved and said their goodbyes. Metlock retired to sleep in his room inside the small shack. Eralar stayed awake, intently watching the three ink figures.

“It was nice to feel alive and normal. For once in a very long time.” Cleia said as Yizmola guided them back to town.

Circuits spun out of control. Wires rearranged and made new connections deep within his core. He was silent for minutes before finally saying:

“I’m glad. The three of you make great friends. I do hope there is a chance you will meet them again. Under better circumstances.”

Tongues lashed out high above them as they traveled down a dark road back to the light of town.

Later the next day, Metlock and Eralar received a message from Tobias. They had a few leads on the crystals and were following up on them. The west gate at The Forge was the meeting spot. With no other information for the rest of the day, racing was on. They tied once more and went on to practice regardless. Huge smirks on both of their faces.

Other than that, it was uneventful, and the day passed by at a blinding speed. So did the night once it came. Metlock rolled over on one side as wind rattled his home.

Strong winds this early? Better not be what I think it is…” He thought. Rising to his feet he threw on a dark blue suit. One sleeve torn off perfectly over the stump. With Lockjaw in hand, he kicked open the front door. The wind tousled hair over his eyes. Luck was on his side it seemed. No bird freaks out for a morning stroll. Strange black specs hovered in the air. It almost looked like ash. The sky, however had been clear otherwise. Eralar had come rushing out. No longer in a yellow dress. Tattoos out of sight, a long red and black sleeve shirt covered them up. With a red jacket tucked over. Black pants keeping the rest of her warm.

“Finally dressed appropriately for the weather, huh?” Metlock said with a grin.

“Yes the breezes have been getting to me around here. Anyway, did you see the message from Maxwell? We need to go!”

“Whats the hu—” Holoframe light weaved Maxwells message in front of him as he brought it out. The fish handled slammed against the shack as Metlock shoved the door shut. Locking it up fast, they rushed to the hospital.

Bodies littered the ground and Mare Clausum felt like it had been struck by a bomb. People fell to their knees then to concrete, cold and stiff. Metlock watched in dismay, as once again Mare Clausum was being torn apart.

Not again. This is worse than the last time. Not even the zealots caused this much damage.

Their vehicle came to a sudden stop as rows of cars blocked their way to the hospital. Hoods torn off. Doors missing. Body parts stuck in windows, flung to the sides. Stuck in storm drains. Smoke rising from the hood, electricity short circuiting.

“What a disaster…” Eralar said slowly exiting the car. Metlock followed suit, Lockjaw cocked and loaded.

Loud crushes and scrunching of metal filled their ears. About one hundred yards away, a creature smashed its way across the road. Impaling confused people on its hooked and spikey tail as it made passage.

Quietly as possible Metlock crouched next to Eralar and smacked her shoulder. Who was fixated on it.

“I have no idea what that thing is, but we need to stop it somehow. Looks like it’s taking a turn right to the hospital.” Metlock whispered.

“We must try something. Maxwell is waiting for us.” She said and began to dash from car to car. Neither bothered to hide or be stealthy as its back was turned to them. The amount of noise it made while destroying things around it made their ears ring. The hospital door was in sight. Cracked and broken glass littered the street. They heard the end of a mad yell. Two people held their hands up high. The scorpion tail lashed down with fatal speed. Straight through the head of one of the main sources of the yells, silenced. The other picked up and devoured by its mandibles. The claw shoved the rest of the body in its salivating mouth. Metlock aimed down Lockjaw. Straining eyes through the debris and black substance in the air. He saw golden eyes peak out. Being unsure of what he was really seeing, Metlock moved closer, as did the creature. Sharp frontal legs dug into the hospital. Supports collapsed and the whole building titled to one side. Metlock got as close as possible then stopped. The golden eyed being had pulled themselves from out of the rubble of the car. With a body strung over its shoulders. Metlock was ready to fire but was struck dumb by the sight. Jackal like in appearance with a torn sheet across the waist. He had only met her a few times but there was no mistake, it was Melaine.

Metlock clenched his mouth and waved them his way. One claw tore through the side of the buildings as the creature did a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. It had seemed to give up on the hospital in a hurry. Four dark bulging eyes darted to the runner. It’s tail twitched up and moved at a freighting speed at them. Not fast enough to react, Metlock did his best to aim for the tail.

Black ink like a long blade flew out of the ground and met the tail in midair. The blow sent a shockwave that made everything around them bounce and shake. The two clashed briefly, before the creature threw back its tail and jumped forward. Soaring through the air it landed just above Metlock.

What luck to be stuck under this nasty piece of arse. Fuck me it reeks!

Fluid leaked down from above its hide. Trickling down each leg as well. Golden light woke him from his mini stupor.

“What in the hell are you?” Metlock said, staring at a black snout. Melaine was out cold.

“It’s me, Maxwell!” He said with a high-pitched wine. That really threw Metlock off.

“You have got to be shitting me. No way. You’ve been rough but never that ugly. This a dream?”

Two clawed pincers had lunged forward striking cars in front of them. Like ragdolls they flew to the side. Crashing into others and some began to catch fire.

“Not dreaming. That was Eralar’s attack just now, wasn’t it? No time to talk. We need to kill this thing.”

Maxwell gently placed Melaine underneath some cover. Next thing Metlock saw was blood spewing out from the creature’s leg as it cried out in pain. Maxwell had dashed over and was hacking away furiously with his claws. Gold light spewed from the edge of his clawed hands. He dug into its hide though it was rather thick. It staggered back as he forced his hand up and gripped its pulsing tendons. Two screams filled the air. Gold light shone through black and red blood. Maxwell yanked out a chunk of its legged flesh and roared with a battle cry.

Metlock was dumbstruck. Maxwell had balls on him that’s for sure. Never once since childhood had he seen him this unhinged. Secretion above fell over his armless sleeve. That snapped him back. Backward the creature went as it stabbed wildly in front of it still. Metlock slammed Lockjaw up and began firing rapidly into its carapace. This one was half the size of the strider. Couldn’t have been taller than thirteen feet.

Bullets pierced through its carapace. Blood filled the street around them. It tumbled on its back into the hospital. Solid symbols formed in the air. Just enough to hold the creatures piercing through Eralar. Inches away from her face reached out to place a hand on it. Ink weaved its way down her arms and out her fingertips. Sigils formed out from its skin, made in ink.

“Damned be the flesh.” She whispered. The sigils grew darker before exploding out from the creature. Chunks of its flesh rained down from above. Setting off car alarms and quieting others as they struck. With one leg bleeding profusely and the other that had just exploded, it reared back into the hospital, causing more damage with its tail slicing through. Then fell forward twitching like a dying bug. Its mandibles snapped at them, but it could no longer move. Maxwell and Eralar went over to check on Melaine. Her breath had slowed considerably. Being gentle as possible, his clawed handheld one side of her face. He put his head on hers and golden light seeped from his body into hers. With his eyes shut, Maxwell tightly held Melaine’s hand.

Golden light traveled into her lungs and slowly pushed up. She began to cough lightly as black bile came out the edges of her mouth. More forcefully light traveled in and squeezed up. Eralar instinctively put a hand on her chest and throat. Feeling the flow of both energies, she helped guide them out. With one last heave Melaine puked out the remaining bile. The light settled within her. Maxwell just held her tight. His snout and jackal like form began to revert. Four shots rang out. Followed by death cries. The crazed bulging eyed could no longer glare at them. Metlock knelt in front of them. He looked back at the creature, oozing blood from its eye sockets. Mandibles unmoving against the concrete.

“After something like this, I could really use a smoke or something to chew on ya hear?” Metlock said with a smile.

He got the reaction he wanted from them. Melaine managed to chuckle after being cleared up.

“Fill me in on what’s going on with those kitty claws, Maxwell. While we go meet up with Toby.”

Maxwell smiled. His ears stayed the same. One eye turned to normal. The other stayed gold briefly before changing as well. Melaine held in Maxwell’s arms, had gold flash through her system as well. One eye momentarily turning gold. Before returning soft hazel.

Eralar sent one last sharp dagger of ink that pierced through the eye socket deeper into the beast’s head. Blood squirted out the other side as the blade nearly cut through. The unnerving silence returned to the streets of Clausum Mare as the sounds of battle ended.