Cursed Times - What Now?

Chapter 44 - Showtime

'Who is?' But Metjen sees a flicker of dark red light clawing its way down from the hole in the ceiling, pushing away the brilliance in the hall, replacing it with viscous darkness. And one of the silent forms is still there, rising slowly from the floor in a loose-limbed movement that makes the Servants huddle even closer together.

Nebmutef.

'Thank you my Lord, for calling me here, we would never have been able to penetrate otherwise. Your consideration is most appreciated.'

Nebmutef swaggers towards him, straighter and darker than ever before, a terrible red glow where his eyes had been. Behind him, spiteful darkness boils with unnatural movement and engulfs the brightness. Veins in dark pumping red snake out, they longingly tentacle towards the portal and a pressure builds up in Metjen's head, making his eyes swell from their sockets.

The evil shows faces, many faces--distorted, yet so familiar, he sees them every day on TV.

Metjen beholds grimy children clutching at straws to make bricks for the rich. Animals dying in agony for no reason other than greed. Mindless drones, remote-controlled by inhumanity, rain death from the skies.

Above it all floats the smoke from the burning forests, supercharging the atmosphere of a world gone mad. Metjen nearly misses the rushing of the waves as rising sea levels are drowning whole nations... .

A whole demonic newscast screams into Metjen's brain, with Nebmutef as anchorman. 'I only need one further invitation from you and you will be relieved. Your family is no more. You can join them shortly.'

What is he supposed to say? To do? 'I... .'

'Zum Teufel mit Dir, halt' bloss die Klappe!' Trueth screams at Metjen. She jumps beside Seisi. He is trying to get the Servants to move, but they shake their heads.

'No, no, no.... we will not go in there!' They stay rooted to the spot, holding on to each other.

Seisi shoots a flash of pale gold into the writhing evil. It is followed by a bolt of blue from Trueth. She is shouting loudly—in German? Trueth s weaving complicated sigils into the air that wriggle from her hands in a scribble of blue. From between the ethereal letters, more of Seisi's golden bolts pound towards the gloating darkness and together his friends hold evil at bay.

'Do something! We must go. Now.' Seisi retreats towards the diamond, still trying to nudge forward the lost troop on their left.

'My Lord, this is most unnecessary. Say the other two words, and we can be done,' the horror that had been Nebmutef says.

It confronts Metjen, a spider in a halo of black which sucks the power right out of the Trueth's bolts. The sigils are starting to fade. Nebmutef's thin face is drawn in a sneer that has nothing to do with the person he had pretended to be. Or had been before he got pulled over.

Metjen does not understand. Neither does he care. He spins around, mind-whips the nearest Servants and orders them to bring the others. Finally, there is movement, and the first of his priests explode into the light.

'YOU WILL OBEY!'

The terrible pressure in his head makes him stagger, but Metjen feels hands steady him. Seisi and Trueth drag him behind the frazzled blue lace, and the strain eases off.

The air has changed colour—the darkness is glowing red, the tendrils are ripping through the delicate froth of protection. What sounds like the wailing of a million lost souls reverberates through the ancient hall.

And the floor takes form. With a billow of stink, a black hand manifests, grips Trueth's leg, squeezes and her calf bone snaps with a crack. She crashes to the floor shrieking with pain.

The sigils falter and disappear.

Metjen whirls around. 'Trueth—'

'Don't leave me!' She screams.

Help me! Metjen mind-reaches out to Seisi and slams up a screen of blinding energy drawn from the source behind him. It shears off the coils, they drop to the floor where they continue their contortions, contracting and crawling towards them like fiendish caterpillars searching for blood.

Nebmutef bellows with rage as he gets blasted towards the rear. Only a few seconds left and Metjen and Seisi lift Trueth, who rolls up her eyes, cries out in pain and nearly faints. She is panting.

'Run—I'll follow and close the damn thing.' Metjen shouts at the Servants who are still protected by his barrier of light—only to see it crashing down as the twisting blackness bursts through.

Too many of the Servants are left, still undecided, still not moving, and the darkness moves instead, into their bodies causing their eyes to flare red. 'It is closing by itself,' Seisi screams and together they drag Trueth towards the diamond and hurl themselves into the white, blue, red—and black.

They fall into darkness.

Into nothing.

===

Translation of Trueth's outburst: 'To hell with you - just shut your gob!'

The next chapter is - VERY short. Yet, I could not resist including it - we need some light relief. A propos relief: I would be very interested to hear what you think is going to happen next. Or, in other words, how would YOU continue from here? I will give you a hint - I still have a few chapters up my sleeve.

This chapter is dedicated to @Browneyedgirl65. 'The Road North' is about werewolves, the first one I read for a very long time. I am glad I did and I can recommend you do likewise.