Chapter 17
Gentry's Darkness
Gentry wasn’t as dead as Ty feared; merely unconscious. Somewhere along the way while getting tackled from above, shoved through the side of a building, and “landing” into a wall, he passed out. He was having an extremely bad day.
When he regained consciousness, he half suspected that he would have been cut into tiny little pieces, but thankfully that wasn’t the case. The monkeys were not as perfect and deadly as they seemed. Breaking through a wall had all the same downsides for them as it did him.
One bit of good news was that he could no longer feel the blade in his back. It must have been wrenched out in the middle of the chaos.
He opened one eye ever so slightly. Not having any eyelids, his way of “opening” was more like turning it on. His left eye had a tiny speck of yellow in the center, so minuscule that it was virtually impossible to detect. He turned the tiny light in the direction of the sounds of a struggle. In the middle of the room, the three monkeys were tangled in a pile on the floor, trying desperately to get free. The leader yelled at the other two as they fought amongst each other, making everything ten times worse. Gentry felt kind of bad for the guy, its flunkies were obviously lacking in intelligence.
Feeling returned to his hand still sitting on the roof, warm flesh around his wooden limb—but only for a split second. His string was wrapped around the arm of a monkey that decided at that moment to throw a punch at its ally, yanking Gentry's hand from Ty's grip.
He worked his hand frantically to find something else to grab onto, latching onto something. He tested the strength of his handhold and the piece shook with a minor tug—it would never support his full weight.
While Gentry focused on this task, the bats finally got their act together. With one last grunt of frustration, the leader shoved the other two off of him.
Breathing heavily, it hissed, “Now, you,” it gestured with a claw at the biggest of the two, “get out there and secure the boy.”
The big one nodded, showing that it at least possessed the mental capabilities to understand and take orders. It was the one with the string around its arm—but it ignored it and walked to the hole in the building, grabbed the top of it with one oversized hand, and hauled itself up and out of sight.
He needed to do something. There was no way Ty could handle that giant on his own.
“You're with me,” the leader said to the remaining bat as the two of them approached the spot where Gentry lay, their feet leaving holes in the floor with each step.
Ty's grip returned. Perfect—he had a firm support now.
He kicked off the ground, flying forward as the string pulled back into his arm... for exactly three feet. As soon as he jumped, he knew something wasn't right. He felt a hand grab his string from outside the building, and pull on it with far too much strength. And then Ty was gone.
He fell back onto the floor with a wooden thunk, his leap only accomplishing a sort of fish-out-of-water flop. His hand came in through the wall, rocketed across the room, and snapped into his wrist.
Gentry closed his freshly returned limb into a fist. He looked up from his embarrassing position on the floor to the two monkeys staring down at their prey.
Sorry, Ty, looks like I'm going to be held up here.
Two tails lurched for the puppet, cutting harmlessly into the ground as he rolled out of the way, slipping into a shadowy corner of the room.
#
Ty made the first move. He figured that, for one, he should go ahead and get that out of the way and that, two, attacking your enemy while it was busy laughing at you is a grand strategy.
The monkey, still laughing, easily swatted Ty's spear aside. After that, nothing. The beast just stood there, possibly with a grin on its face—it was hard to tell with all those teeth and its strange bat mouth.
It was toying with him. It didn't see Ty as a threat at all, just a little toy to pass the time while its brothers handled the real threat. That was both frustrating and a huge advantage. If it wouldn't take him seriously, he could catch it off guard.
Well, if he had some kind of hidden talent with which to overwhelm the monster, but... he didn't. The only experience he had with his spear was so small it might as well not be mentioned.
Running on fumes, Ty wasn't coming up with much, so he settled on jabbing at the monkey again.
#
The dark environment couldn't have been any more perfect for Gentry. During their break-in they destroyed the ceiling light in the room, the small apartment's main source of light. A few scattered lamps were all that remained. He darted from lamp to lamp, room to room, taking the lights out while he got a good look at the layout of the apartment.
There was only a living room (where they'd crashed in from), one bedroom, and a bathroom. He destroyed all the lamps in a matter of seconds. Once done he zipped up onto the ceiling, his cloak holding onto it like a spider's legs.
They couldn't see him, he knew that. Their eyesight was no better than a human's, possibly even worse. And their ears were also next to useless against a foe who could move without making a sound.
This was going to be easy.
He watched the two monkeys from the safety of the ceiling with amusement, enjoying the sight of them creeping around, looking for him in all the wrong places.
“Stay here,” the leader rasped. “I'm going to check the other rooms.”
Gentry smiled as the monster passed underneath him. Splitting up? Grave mistake.
He made his move, his cloak walking him along the ceiling even more spider-like than before. The lackey, showing off the great extent of its mental power, was looking for the puppet in a vase smaller than its head. He almost felt sorry for the stupid thing.
Almost.
He positioned himself directly above his prey and released his cloak's grip on the ceiling. He fell onto the monkey without a sound, covering its mouth with one hand and squeezing its throat with the other.
He dropped the vase, Gentry's cloak caught it before it shattered onto the ground.
The monkey struggled against him, tried in vain to pull him off or slice him to pieces. The cloak split into strands again, binding the creature's arms, tail, and, to be safe, wound around his legs and gripped the carpet, rooting him to the spot.
The fight went out of the monster. It wouldn't be much longer until it was passed out on the—
A blade appeared from nowhere, slicing into Gentry's side and continuing right on, plunging deep into the back of the monkey.
Gentry shot his hand at a far wall, pulling himself out of harm's way and into a position to survey his wound and surroundings. He pushed his cloak aside, examining the cut underneath. It ran the length of his body, about an inch deep. He had no doubt that his cloak saved him, reacting just fast enough to prevent the blade from running him straight through.
His fingers released the cloak, allowing it to return to its rightful place, guarding the wooden body it rested upon. Its work seemed to be cut out for it tonight; it had been a while since Gentry received so many injuries. His face looked as if a rabid cat attacked it, a gaping cut in his back, and now a slit in his side to top it all off.
At least he was still alive. Unlike the monkey across the room.
Its eyes were already glossed over, its face a mask of horror and surprise. Gentry shared the monster's surprise when he saw the murder weapon: the leader's bladed tail, still sticking out of the lackey's chest.
“You used him as bait.” That both impressed and disgusted him. Impressive that he could form such a clever plan; disgusting that it held such low regards for its companion's life to see the plan through.
“Yes, I did,” the monster said, cold and unfeeling as it tore its tail from the corpse, letting it fall to the floor with a crunch. A pool of black blood already formed around it. “Problem?”
“No, I suppose not. It fits that you, coming from a long line of savages, could betray someone so easily.”
The creature chuckled. “At least I embrace what I am... unlike you.”
Gentry was caught off guard by the remark. “What do you mean?”
The beast took several steps forward. “I think you would be surprised by how much we have in common.”
The two foes circled each other now, pacing the floor while slowly inching closer to the center of the room with each completed rotation.
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“Such as?”
“Such as your body; every inch of you is fit for battle. Such as that cloak that you wear. Such as that feeling of power you get when fighting, when putting your strength against another. Such as the fact that, even though you hide it from yourself, you enjoy it! I can see it in your eyes.”
Snap. The effects the bat's words had on him were almost audible. They hit home with him, touching a nerve he thought he'd buried long ago.
“No,” The word came out low, almost a growl. “You're wrong.”
“Oh yeah? Prove it to me! How about you stand there... and let me slice you to pieces.”
The tail came at him from the side, sailing clear over his head as he ducked underneath it. Gentry's mind went blank, all thoughts and doubt becoming low murmurs in the deepest part of his mind. Reflex took over, his body moving to fight back.
The tiny thoughts, locked away in their cage, didn't fail to notice that Gentry's actions supported the bat's accusations.
#
Things weren’t going well for Ty at all. Minutes passed and he had neither a plan nor a successful hit. His desperate attacks did nothing but coax more laughter from the monkey. The closest thing he had to an accomplishment was boring the monster into doing something different. It finally stepped away from the ledge, running straight at him, claws shining in the darkness.
Ty held his spear in front of him, almost cowering behind it. The monster's hand stopped a full foot away, slicing him to pieces never the true intention. The bat burst into a fresh fit of laughter, frightening children seemingly the funniest thing in the world to it.
What followed was about another minute of failed attacks from Ty, the monkey easily dodging while continuing to poke fun. Ty made one last jab and the bat jumped over him, using its wings to glide to the middle of the roof. With the bat way over there, he had a lot more room to work with.
And finally, that gave Ty an idea.
#
Puppet and bat danced around each other, blades and wood cutting through the air. Their movements were so fast, the untrained eye wouldn't be able to follow.
Inside the tornado of attacks, Gentry slowly got the upper hand. The monster fought with tooth and nail, tail and blade, but was outmatched by Gentry's fists and cloak.
The puppet ducked under one last swing of the bat's blade and flipped his cloak to the side, catching the beast's legs and pulling them out from underneath him. He was on the floor, pinned, and with Gentry's hand at its throat in less than a millisecond. It was over, just like that.
“Look at you,” the monkey sneered. “How can you continue to deny the beast that you are?”
Gentry, now out of danger, the rush of adrenaline left him and his thoughts returned, shouting agreement with the monster below him. The puppet's eyes grew wide, his hand trembling. On his back, his cloak reared up, like a wild beast about to pounce. For the first time in his life, his cloak did not seem like a friend and protector, but a dangerous and unpredictable stranger.
And what about him? Was he any better? Like this, with his hand at someone's throat, what made him any different than the monster before him?
Gentry's hand went slack, the very reaction the bat hoped for.
It tore the puppet off, holding his head on the tips of its clawed fingers. Gentry did nothing to stop it.
“Seeing the truth now? Feeling guilty? Don't worry, I've got plenty of punishment for you.” Then it backhanded Gentry with such force that a normal human's head would have popped. The puppet's body soared across the room, crashing through the living room wall and crumpling onto the rubble.
The bat kept a firm grip on Gentry’s hands, letting the string extend out as the puppet flew. It grabbed the strands, the claws of its right hand slid inward, letting it hold the string without fear of cutting it.
With a yank, Gentry's body flopped off the floor and back in the bat's grasp, this time its hand at the puppet's throat, the tables turned.
“What's the matter? Lost your fight? Come on, we both know that isn't true. FIGHT ME!”
The monster swung the string down, over and over, bashing Gentry against the floor. On the fifth hit, the floorboards gave way and Gentry fell into the apartment below. The monkey looked at the pathetic creature through the hole, enjoying the sight of him struggling to stand.
“There we go! Some movement in that body! Going to get yourself together and fight back?”
No, he wasn't. He only managed to get himself on his feet because his mind went to Ty, still up on that roof, fighting for his life all alone. He had to get there; help him. But he couldn't. He was afraid. Afraid of his cloak—which was still acting like a wild animal in the throes of blood lust, urging him to let it sink its teeth in. And afraid of himself, what he could do—the things he had done—and what he was capable of.
But Ty, in danger... he had to push on.
He pushed off the ground, shooting back up through the floor. The bat was caught by surprise, tried to dodge out of the way, but was far too slow. Gentry planned to ram into the monster with his head, free his hand, and get out of there, back to Ty. His cloak had other plans in mind.
To his horror, strands rushed ahead of him, forming like usual at first, but then becoming something solid and dangerous. A spike, the tip sharpened to a deadly point.
“NO!” Gentry roared, twisting himself to the side, giving the monster the room and time it needed to get out of range. Gentry continued up, pushing off the ceiling and flipping down onto his feet. The cloak returned to normal and it did not seem happy about it. It flicked and flapped about as if blown by a hurricane. He could feel its anger and on a deeper level, he felt its desire to tear the monkey apart.
What was happening to him!?
Distracted by his internal struggles, Gentry didn't notice the bat as it pulled on his strings yet again. He was off his feet, this time crashing into every wall and object in the room, the bat spinning him around in a circle.
“Time to end this, puppet!” The monkey yelled, its voice giving way to laughter as Gentry continued to spin. Once the puppet was nothing but a blur, the bat cut the string and hurled Gentry through the apartment wall, into the hallway, on through the neighboring apartment and out the other side of the building to the pavement below.
#
Now with a freshly baked plan, Ty put it to the test. He held his spear back, preparing it for a throw. The monkey looked interested by this new tactic and took on a defensive stance. They stared at one another for a moment, and then Ty let the spear fly.
It whizzed across the roof, straight and fast at first but quickly lost speed and arched down, sticking harmlessly into the building, missing the monkey by ten feet or more. The bat stared at the weapon, blinked once, and then burst into fresh laughter. Its stance was dropped and forgotten. The monster held its sides, a bellowing chuckle filled the night.
That was, believe it or not, exactly what Ty wanted.
Ty dashed forward, grabbed the spear as he passed it, and let it carry him back. He used the momentum to pull himself toward it and kicked off with all the strength he had.
The weapon catapulted him forward and dislodged from the roof by the force of Ty's kick, sending it spiraling after the boy. The bat didn't see any of it coming.
Ty smashed his foot into the creature's face, getting huge satisfaction from the teeth that were knocked loose by the hit. The spoils of his successful attack didn't stop there as the bat kept going over the side of the roof.
Ty, still airborne and unable to stop, flapped his arms and legs like a maniac, his flailing about accomplishing nothing as they both toppled over the edge.
The monster had better luck, one of its oversized arms reflexively grabbed the roof at the last second. It would have been nice if it fell to his death, but this worked to Ty's advantage. He caught the creature's tail and held onto it for dear life. The spear wasn't far behind its master, spinning wildly and coming right for him. He made a grab for it, afraid of slicing his hand open, but that was better than being impaled. He caught it by the upper half of the weapon, narrowly avoiding the tip.
Before Ty could plan his next move, Gentry made his loud, forced exodus from inside the building. Bricks and glass went everywhere, stray shards and rubble coming dangerously close to his vantage point. He didn't see his friend until he hit the ground.
“Gentry!” Ty yelled and, without thinking, let go of the monster's tail... only for it to catch him again, squeezing his wrist so tight there was no hope of getting free. The leader stuck its head out of the gaping maw in the side of the building. When the monster saw Ty, it grinned.
“Don't look away, boy,” the creature cackled before it jumped from the building. Gentry was unmoving and unprotected. Even his cloak stopped fighting.
Ty struggled against his captor, pulled and thrashed—all in vain. The monkey hissed, a stray loose tooth falling out and bouncing off of Ty's head.
Get up Gentry. Get up.
He stared at his friend with great intensity, as if trying to force him to move with his eyes. The puppet remained on the ground, the cloak making no last minute rescue. The leader's tail sunk deep into Gentry's chest with no resistance. The puppet's eyes opened wide, the lights inside growing dimmer until they disappeared all together, snuffed out as easily as a candle’s flame.
Ty screamed.
#
The monkey's laughter and his own anguished cries mixed together, creating a demonic chorus to the nightmarish scene. His grandfather's greatest gift to him—his friend—dead? It couldn't be.
In a fit of rage, Ty held his spear up and sliced through the tail with one clean cut. The creature's laughs turned to shrieks of pain. Ty cast the loose, amputated tail off as he dropped.
He angled himself down, head first, his spear held out in front of him. A shout full of anger and hatred escaped him, it and his weapon both aimed at the back of Gentry's attacker. His killer.
The monster reeled around and snapped the spear with one clawed hand. With its tail it stopped the boy, winding it around his body and binding his arms to his sides. The blade came to rest under his chin, the steel so close he felt the icy coldness.
The broken handle of the spear slipped through Ty's fingers and hit the cement with a clatter, joining its other half at the feet of Gentry's body. Ty couldn't look away from him, the dark—dead—eyes staring blindly back.
Tears dripped down his face.
“Aw,” the leader said, taunting. “Do you miss your friend already? Don't worry, San will make it all better.”
San's name should have brought some sort of reaction, a chill up his spine and a surge of energy to get far, far away. But Ty felt nothing.
The other massive monkey hit the ground, sobbing, the stump of its tail in its hands, looking like a lost and confused child.
The leader stared at the pathetic creature with disgust. “Get yourself together and bring the puppet. I'm going on ahead with the boy.”
The big monkey nodded. It might burst into more tears at any second.
So pathetic.
The leader turned its back on the sight, jumped into the air, and flew out of the alley with Ty in tow. The bat brimmed with excitement; it had the boy and Gentry was dead. San would be pleased. It didn't know what to expect, but surely it deserved a great reward.
Perhaps San would give it some new minions? All it’d ever wanted for Christmas were a few semi-intelligent ones, was that really so much to ask?
#
It took the big one several minutes to get over the loss of its tail. And teeth. It forgot about its beautiful teeth, now scattered all over the alley. It started to sob again.
The monster pushed on, thinking that if it didn't hurry the boss would do something horrible. Maybe rip off its wings? The bat shuddered at the thought.
It stopped at the puppet, looking at himt. No movement. Eyes empty. All signs of life, gone. Satisfied, it reached down and picked the puppet up by the head. Its claws dug into the wood—no need to be delicate.
It raised its mortal enemy to eye level, glared, and stuck its tongue out.
Gentry's eyes flared.