Chaos Lives in Everything - 31. Chapter 31

Skold came to.

He felt weak, frail. His throat was parched. Everything ached. Those were the first realizations that broke the surface of unconciousness. Everything else came slowly, gradually. Mostly he was just confused.

He was laying on something soft, a bed. It was large and comfortable like his own bed at home, but somehow he knew that he was not in his own bed. This was someone else’s bed. The sheets and pillowcase was white and the blanket that was over him was dark red. Shadows danced on the wall, shadows made by the light of a flame.

The room he found himself in was windowless and sparsely furnitured. A large wooden chest stood at the foot of the bed. Skold blinked surprised; people did not store their clothes in chests like this anymore. To his right was a wooden desk with a mirror attached to it.

He crawled out of the bed and realized for the first time since waking up that he was naked. He went to the chest and pushed it open. Inside were his clothes, neatly folded. His weapons, however, were missing. Skold got dressed and went over to the door. He cracked it open enough to peek through it. Outside of the door was a long stone corridor. Somewhere he could hear piano music, a soft melodic tune.

Skold stepped out into the corridor and tiptoed down it quietly. To his right was an opening that led into another room. This room was bigger than his bedroom had been, the floor covered with rich, red carpeting. The room was complete with a living room and couch. A fire crackled in the hearth. The room smelled of incense and perfume, but even those could not hide the sweet smell of rot, the earthly smell of dirt, and the coppery smell of blood that lurked underneath. A record player sat on a bookshelf; it was there that the music was coming from. His sword was leaning against a wall and his guns lay next to it, along with his belt.

Skold looked around for any signs of danger and when it seemed that there was none within his sight, moved quickly over to his weapons. He snapped the belt on and sheathed his sword. He slapped fresh clips into the Uzi and slid through the door into the next room.

He stepped into a large dining room with a long wooden table with six matching wooden chairs. Both the tables and the chairs had been polished to a shine. The dining room was lit with hundreds of candles. But nothing drew about the room could draw his attention more than what was sitting at the end of the table.

The creature was unlike anything Skold could remember encountering in the past. It’s skin was as shrivelled and dry as that of a two thousand year old mummy. Perfectly bald, the creature had no hair whatsoever, not even eyebrows. The eyes were a bright, milky white yet Skold got the feeling that the creature could see him perfectly. Its ears ended in sharp points. The seer’s words echoed in Skold’s mind: A long, long time ago he was an elf just like you are.

Holding a fork and steak knife in its hand it was cuttting into the bloody remains of a human heart. Somehow it managed to cut into the heart without getting blood onto the table. Spearing a bite-sized chunk of the heart, the creature lifted the fork to its mouth and chewed with its mouth closed. It smiled at Skold, showing its black rotted teeth and gums, blood dripping down its chin as it chewed.

“Skold, you’re awake,” Bane said. “I’m glad to see that you’re not too badly injured after taking such a dreadful fall.”

Unlike during their last two encounters, Bane seemed to be in a more cheerful mood. Perhaps it was the benefit of being in his own dwellings that lifted his spirits, or that he felt victorious in having obtained Skold.

“So we used to sleep together?” Skold said, lifting his eyebrow in a mixture of disgust and amusement. He kept his Uzis trained on Bane.

“In those days I looked a lot different back then,” Bane replied. “In those days I hadn’t died as many times. Everytime that I die and the Ferry Man has to put me back together, I come back as something more and more hideous. I’ve died a lot since then. Please, have a seat. Indulge me in a conversation. The last couple of times we were too busy trying to kill each other.”

Skold felt a twinge in his stomach. It was weak, almost nonexistent, but it was enough. Dom was on his way. Hopefully it wouldn’t be long before he got here.

Hopefully I can buy us some time until then.

“Alright,” he said casually. He slid his Uzis back into their holster. “I will indulge you in one last conversation, just like the old days, right? And then we can go back to hating and trying to kill one another.”

“Let me finish my dinner and then there’s something I want to show you.” Bane threw his knife and fork down and picked the remains of the heart in his hands. He tore at it, chomping at it hungrily. Skold, who liked to thing that he did not have a weak stomach, could not bring himself to watch.

“I take it this is what you eat three times a day?”

Bane chuckled. “Not always. Once I ate what you ate. But with each time that I am reborn I find that my appetite becomes a little more preculiar. These days I prefer my meat raw and bloody. And there is so much knowlege that you can glean by eating one’s heart or one’s brain. And let us not forget the protein.”

The last of Skold’s patience whithered and died. “Tell me what is you want from me, foul creature, and let’s get this shit over with once and for all!”

Bane threw his head back and laughed. “Oh Skold you have no idea how much it used to turn me on when you were angry. Until this day your anger still has that effect. To see you angry has such a rare effect.”

“It’s been a long day,” Skold said. “I’m tired and I want to go home. So the sooner we wrap this up the sooner I can head home and get some bloody sleep!”

Bane brushed his plate to the side and stood up. Without his filthy robes and dangerously sharp scythe he did not seem so large. Skold followed him through the door to their left into a large chamber. At the front of the chamber was a large stone throne. Bane sat in it.

“Does this room make you feel anything?” Bane asked. “Do you feel like you’ve been here before? It is an exact replica of my cavern in the Caucasius Mountains in Russia. You stood before me then just as you do now. It pains me more than you know to realize that you are just as beautiful now as you were then.”

Had Skold been paying attention he would not have been able to miss the mixture of longing and torment on Bane’s mummified face, the way that he had spoken with tenderness. But Skold was no longer facing Bane. He had turned, staring at the mirror behind him. It was a large mirror, framed in gold; it appeared that runes had been hand carved into the framing. But what was so intruiging was the glass. His reflection stared back at him. There was something preculiar about the mirror. It wasn’t until he stopped just inches before with his reflection staring back at him that Skold realized what it was.

The reflection was different.

The reflection in the mirror showed that it was snowing within the chamber and that everything was covered in ice.

“What is this?” he said.

“What you see on the other side is the realm of the Frrey Mann. The underworld.”

Skold looked back at Bane from over his shoulder. “So this is how you communicate with your master, lord of the underworld. But why does it look so cold there?”

Bane let out a bark of laughter that filled the chamber. “Centuries ago, in another life, you asked me the same question once. By word of mouth and an endless facade of foolish stories we fae are led to believe that like the place that the mortals called Hell, the underworld is a place of flame. What you see is a reflection of this world, a mirror image. On the other side you will find a world that resembles this one in almost every way. There you will find a Roc City, a New York City, London, etc. But it is a frozen wasteland filled with the Frrey Mann’s monstrous creations and the millions upon millions of souls that will forever endure the Frrey Mann’s wrath.”

Skold looked back at the mirror.

Something in the reflection had changed.

In the reflection he was not alone.

The souls of those trapped in the underworld stood around him with white faces. Men, women, and children, human, and fae. They were all there. Apparently the Ferry Man did not discriminate against humans unlike most fae. Their mouths were moving but he could not hear their words. Their faces were desperate, sad, angry, full of pain. They started beating at the glass with their white fists making it bend ripple and bend.

Skold stepped back. He was afraid that the glass would break and the damned would come forth.

Again Bane laughed. “They cannot come through. If they do come through it is because I command them to and even then it is only in spirit...which can be just as dangerous as in the flesh if not so more. Such power is granted by death magic.”

Skold shivered, afraid. He had to get out of this chamber, away from Bane. He had to find the others and get back to the surface. He was tired of this place. He marched in the direction of the door but before he could reach it, the door slammed shut on its own.

He glared at Bane. His eyes promised death.

“Let me out,” he said. “I am done with this conversation. I will not ask again.”

“I do not think you understand the gravity of the situation. Somewhere in my black heart I still have some feelings for you. But more than love I harbor hate and revenge.” Gone was tenderness. Again there was only hate and rage in Bane’s voice. “You are here as punishment for the consequences of your actions. What will happen to the city in three days time will be your fault. I will destroy the city you call home and all of the people in it.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Skold said.

“You are not strong enough to kill me. I am unkillable. And even if you did you can’t stop what is coming for I am not working alone. There is another who seeks vengeance on you just as much as I do.”

“It’s no matter. Once I am done with you I will go after them.” And then Skold raised his Uzis and emptied them into Bane. Bane’s body danced as the bullets riddled him; the heavy constant fire would have ripped anyone a part but once Skold’s weapons clicked dry Bane was still standing.

That was okay. Skold at least had the satisfaction of letting off some much built up steam. He reached for one of his grenades but before he could Bane disappeared from where he was standing. Skold turned, expecting the blow. He raised his fist, ready to strike, only to take a crushing blow to the chest from Bane. The force of the blow sent his flying across the chamber. He hit the stone wall and landed on the floor.

Watching as Bane advanced towards him, Skold stumbled to his feet, winded and dizzy. The shadows in the far corner of the room came to life, drifting towards the necromancer. They swirled around him and then became a part of him, forming the ragged, hooded cloak. The necromancer seemed to double in size, towering over Skold. Just as Bane raised his scythe over his head and Skold prepared himself for battle by unsheathing his sword, Annabelle and the others materialized behind him.

Bane froze. “Ahhh,” he said in a mocking voice. “You’re friends have arrived. Good, more things for me to kill. But I’m afraid Skold and I have some unfinished business to attend to that is just between us.”

“Get the fuck away from him,” Dom growled.

“No,” Bane said. Raising his hand in the direction of the mirror he screamed, “Raeis teh ddea, ftight fro em!”

The mirror rippled and a small battalion of the damned emerged from the glass. It was the same spirits that Skold has seen in the reflection. With their white, white skin and empty eyes they looked like hollow ghosts. They moved with a deceptive speed that defied their appearance forcing Skold’s group to seperate.

One of them, the tortured spirit of a boy of adolescent age, got in Skold’s way. Its mouth yawned open, threatening to engulf him. Skold slashed through it. The spirit broke apart into particles and then reformed, swirling around the room. Skold came at the necromancer. He sidestepped a swipe from the scythe and lashed out with a kick that caught Bane in the stomach.

“This is ironic, is it not?” Skold huffed. His arms were starting to ache from the weight of Bane’s rage. “Once we were lovers. Now we’re just trying to kill each other.”

Bane’s attacks became more brutal and angry. “We had a deal! You sold me your soul for the knowlege of death magic! You tricked me into loving you! And when you got what you needed from me you ran!”

“Agh!” Skold screamed in frustration. He spun around. With a downward slash he disintergrated another spirit. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry for what I did? That I’m remorseful? Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness? I have no memory of what I did! They were stolen from me! Like you I am but a shadow of my former self! And yet it makes no difference! You made a mistake in coming to this city! To me you’re just another thing to kill! And if you know anything about me then you know I love to kill things!”

He’d had enough of this fight. “Fuere!” he screamed, palm outstretched. A ball of fire shot from the palm of his hand.

The ball of fire struck Bane but seemed to do no damage; smoke drafted through the air, stinging Skold’s eyes. It had been foolish to cast the spell in such close quarters. I’m getting tired, he thought. I can’t keep going on like this. The others can’t keep going on like this.

The others…

He turned to look. He had to. He had to see that they were okay.

Dom stood somewhere to the right, blasting the spirits with his shot gun. Like Skold’s sword, the shells did little more than make the spirits break a part only to reform themselves back a few seconds later. Under the necromancer’s control they were relentless. There was a nasty looking gash that went from from Dom’s bone all the down to his chin. The seer was slashing away with her claws.

He panicked. Where was Candestine and Rebecca?

He spotted them. His heart did a doubletake.

Candestine was kneeling by Rebecca’s body. The air shimmered around her from the force field that she had summoned around them. Several spirits kept driving themselves at it, trying to breach it. Her face was white with exhaustion. Skold could tell that she was focusing all of her energy into maintaining the force field. With the way the spirits were relentlessly driving at it, her energy was draining fast. She would not be able to hold them back without collasping from fatigue.

But Rebecca…

Rebecca laid on her back. She wasn’t moving. Her eyes were closed, her face as white as a ghost. Blood had spread across the front of her shirt. So much blood.

Spirits of Vahalia spare her, please.

Skold heard the necromancer scream something unintelligable. He turned just as a wave of black energy exploded from the necromancer. It tore through the ground, turning into rubble. With just half a second to spare Skold said, “Sdlhei!”

A wall of kinetic energy erupted around him. The black energy rolled up the wall like a tidal wave. The force field that Skold had summoned asorbed most of the spell but not all of it. The rebound slammed into him like a freight train and sent him flying head over heels.

He raised his head. Already the necromancer was coming towards him.

Skold was exhausted and in pain. What energy his anger had given him was gone. Darkness was creeping around him devouring any remaining hope that he might of had left.

Rebecca was either seriously injured or dying, which meaned that he had failed in protecting her. Skold felt a throb of shame. In his long existence the only thing he had ever stood by was his word. When a client hired him to take a client out he did it. When he promised an adversary death, he killed them and took joy in doing it. And when he had promised Rebecca protection he had meant it.

As he felt the urge to give into the exhaustion and forfeit his life, Skold realized something that had never occurred to him before. It filled his head like a revelation. Human life in its shortness, in its fragility, is precious, he thought. On more than one occasion Rebecca had risked her life for a greater cause, a cause that was bigger than hers. Even when afraid her courage always proved brighter, a trait that Skold had come to admire. He had become fond of her, even cared for her. The possibility of her death was insulting, degrading. It felt like a cruel slap to the face.

Skold managed to raise his head. The necromancer was coming towards him, impossibly tall. Gigantic. He held the scythe at his side, the blade directed towards the ground. Skold knew that he would raise the scythe over his head and then bring it down like an axe. Skold’s head would be decapitated from his body. He would die instantly. Painlessly.

Then he saw the mirror. At first it was blurry but then came into focus. Another revelation. The spirits of Vahalia had sent him a possible blessing.

The mirror’s glass surface still rippled. Beyond it he could see the parallel version of the cavern. The underworld.

The mirror is a portal.

The portal was still active.

Bane, Skold’s former lover, was about to bring his scythe down and take Skold’s head with it. Skold had one last hope.

“Wdin!” he screamed, rising to his haunches.

In an instant a hurricane of wind funneled from Skold’s body. He poured whatever energy he had left into the spell, powering it. He watched in stupid amazement as the wind lifted Bane off of his feet and threw him towards the mirror.

Bane kicked and clawed as if trying to grab a hold of something-but there was nothing to grab a hold of. He hit the shimmering glass and for a victorious second Skold thought Bane would go through it. His hope died. At the last second Bane’s fingers wrapped around the edge of the frame. The lower half of his body was submerged in the glass.

Rejuvenated by a fresh wave of rage, he rose to his feet. His silver-white hair whipped all around him. His eyes pulsed with silver light. He stormed over to the mirror with the gait and intent of a vengeful demon. “Why don’t you just fucking die already!” he screamed.

He lashed out with all of his strength. His foot connected with the center of the necromancer’s chest and the top half of Bane’s body disappeared. Skold knew that he only had a few seconds before Bane came back through; if that happened he was done for. I don’t have the energy to carry on this fight, he thought.

He walked around to the side of the mirror and started to push at it. He strained. The mirror was incredibly heavy. He was too tired, too drained. He wasn’t going to be able to push it over. And then Dom was at his side, helping him. With a push from the both of them they watched the mirror topple over. Just before it hit the ground the glass solidfied. It shattered into a million pieces.

To Skold the shards of glass looked like diamonds.

The portal was closed.

Skold turned drunkenly. His eyes and face felt hot. He looked heavily intoxicated.

The spirits were floating in the air, writhing. Their faces twisted in agony, their mouths hung open in silent agony. Up until now Skold hadn’t known that ghosts could feel pain. Their bodies twisted and stretched like rubber bands and then they exploded.

Only this time they weren’t coming back. They were no longer trapped in the underworld. They were no longer under the necromancer’s control. In destroying them Skold hoped that he had granted them salvation.

He felt on the verge of fainting but knew that he could not give into the temptation. Not yet. There was still another matter to attend to.

Rebecca.

He tottered several steps in their direction, forgetting all about Dom in the moment. Candestine and Annabelle were kneeling before Rebecca so that he couldn’t see her. Candestine looked just as tired and hopeless as he felt. Invisible hands were wrenching at his heart, trying to pull it out of his chest. It took him a long time to realize that Annabelle was muttering under her breath.

Now standing at Rebecca’s side, he could see that the seer’s eyes were closed. Her lips moved quickly in a quiet chant. Her hands were placed directly over the wound.

Stop it, Skold wanted to say. There is no hope. She is dead. Something hot and wet dripped down his face. He touched the wet trail down his cheek and examined it as if seeing it the first time. He was crying. He was actually crying.

In his grief and fatigue Skold had forgotten that seers were also healers. There was a bright flash of green light that blinded him. He stepped back, shielding his face with his arms. After a few seconds the light died. He looked on in amazement.

Rebecca was standing up. Her eyes were open. There was color in her face. Though the hole in her shirt was rimmed with blood her belly looked healed except for one difference. A three inch verticle scar. Skold forgot about himself, about where he was. He threw himself at her and wrapped his arms around in a crushing embrace.

“I thought you were dead,” he said. He choked on his tears. “I thought I’d failed you.”

“Ugh, Skold,” she said in a strained voice. “I love this buddy-buddy moment and all but I can’t breathe.”

Skold nodded and stepped back; he wiped at his face with the palm of his hands.

She looked around, confused. “What happened? The last thing that I remember was one of those fucking spirits slicing me with a sword or something. Bane...is he dead?”

“Not dead,” said the seer. She stood over by the fallen mirror. She held a triangular shard of glass in her hand and was examining closely. “He is trapped in the underworld for now. I get the feeling that his master won’t be very pleased with him. For now we are rid of him but only temporarily. He’ll be back soon. Very soon.”

“Our work is only half done,” Skold said. “He is not working alone. There is another that is in charge of the plague. He is just half of the duo. He told me as much.”

“Well there’s no way in hell that we’re going to deal with him today,” Candestine grumbled.

“No,” Skold said. “Not today.”

Skold glanced at the seer.

She nodded. “Gather around in a circle with me and join hands.”

The group clustered around each other and conjoined hands. There was a flash of green light and the next Skold knew he was blind again.

He exhaled deeply. He was breathing in morning air not the stale, dead-smelling air of the necromancer’s undergound air. He opened his eyes. There were standing under a blue and orange morning sky. The sun was rising. Had they really been underground for that long?

Candestine was the first one to break away from the group. She started marching in the direction of the cemetary gate. “I’m going home and going to bed.” Her voice trailed behind her. “If you want to stay here and gaze into each other’s eyes go ahead. You can walk home for all I care.”

Skold remembered very little of the journey home. The last thing he remembered was watching Rebecca getting out of the van. She’d smiled sweetly at him and he smiled back. She closed the door and that was it.

When he woke up sometime later it was night time and he was laying in his own bed. Dom lay beside him, his back turned to Skold. Skold listened to him snore. Dom sounded like a bear when he snored. Skold got out of bed, being careful not to wake Dominyc up. He’d slept peacefully, dreamlessly. He stretched. Even though he was still sore he felt better. A glance at the alarm clock said that it was past midnight. For almost twenty-four hours Skold had been asleep.

He was naked. Dom must have undressed him before falling asleep. He pulled on a bathrobe and padded stealthily out of the living room. He was unaware of his stealthiness. It was simply in his nature as a killing machine. He stood at the window and watched the rain tap against the window. It’s always raining in this city, he thought. Not that he minded. He’d always liked the rain, liked the cold. The only time he liked being warm was when he was with Dom. Dom was pleasantly warm.

Skold felt in hight spirits. He wanted to be out in the rain, be in the flesh air.

Outside of his door at the end of the hallway there was a fire escape that led to the roof. He climbed up the steps of the firecase and stepped out onto the roof. He sat at the edge of the building, bathing in the moonlight. He was not bothered by the cold. Sometime later when it was still dark Dom came out and stood over him-just as Skold knew he would.

Skold glanced at him. Dom had pulled on a pair of pants but had not bothered putting on a shirt. Skold took his time appreciably scanning Dom’s hairy, muscled chest, his arms, the bulk of his shoulders. Dom sat next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Your good looks aside, are you sure you don’t have some yeti in your blood?” Dom rumbled.

“Good question. It could be so.”

Dom was silent for a moment but Skold could sense that there was a question building somewhere inside of him. He already knew what it was.

“Bane was not lying,” he said. “He’s not working alone. Otherwise last night would have been too simple.”

Dom huffed. “That was not simple. I thought serving as the bodyguard of a fae king was hard but that paled in comparison to last night.”

“It was. I may not be able to remember it but I know that I’ve dealt with worse.”

Dom studied him. “Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

“That you had to fight him.”

“No, it does not bother me that I had to fight Bane. If I could’ve killed him I would have. Whatever feeling I may have had for him, if there was any, are gone. Another has taken his place.”

Dom smiled. “When do we go back to work?”

“Today. Daylight’s just hours away. We should make the best of it.” Skold’s eyes smoldered mischeviously. He peeled off his soggy bathrobe and set it aside. “There is this one thing that I had in mind.”

Dom’s pants could barely contain his hardon.