Tim Marquitz - Resurrection

Her words were a surgical strike. I didn’t know how to answer. There was nothing I wanted more than to have my uncle back in my life, to have the old order restored. I would sacrifice hundreds, thousands, and even millions of lives to bring him back.

Deep down, I knew it was wrong to think like that. It was selfish. The world was a better place without gods and devils and Anti-Christs. God and Lucifer left because they believed the same.

“Come with me, Triggaltheron. My father will raise you up on a pedestal as the true scion of Hell you are.” She took a tentative step forward, her hand out toward me. Her voice was a siren’s song. “We can be together, once more; like we should have always been.”

I looked deep into Karra’s eyes, remembering the times we’d spent in Hell. They’d been the best of my life. We’d grown up together; experienced our first kiss together; made love for the first time together. We’d done practically everything together.

Unlike the string of women who came after her-including Veronica-I’d never felt the same passion for them, the same emotional abandon I had with Karra. No matter how hard I fell for another, in the quiet moments when the world stood still around me and the voices in my head quieted, it was Karra I thought about.

I lost her once to the cold, hard reality of our demonic existence and my heart cried out at her offer. It begged me to go, to be with her again. Even my penis joined the plea. Together, they were a chorus of yes’s, a symphony of agreeance.

But as my heart and body cast their vote, my mind knew what it had to do.

I broke off my stare, my moist eyes drifting to the ground. My stomach soured as my tongue formed my reply, my shaking hand reaching for the amulet at my neck. “I can’t.” The crunch of the obsidian stone was like the closing of a tomb.

Karra gave me a sad smile. “I know.”

With a final glance, her hazel eyes sparkling with something I couldn’t understand, she turned from me and walked away, returning to her father’s side. As I watched her go, the dim bulb of my brain flickered to life when I saw the flashing storm of light approaching through the darkness of the sky.

She knew I would never go along with her, knew I wouldn’t let her return Longinus to life, that I couldn’t abandon Katon to the knights. She used me to set a trap for Lilith, and apparently for Daartan as well. As he and his revenants drew closer, the night turning to shimmering day, it was pretty clear I wouldn’t have long to wait before I found out what she was up to.

Daartan arrived in a blustering cacophony of light and sound, his knights behind him. A ragged and beaten Katon dangled over his white-clad shoulder. Kicking up a swirl of dust, the revenants settled onto the tarmac, their eyes whirling as the chill from their presence settled in like an early winter.

The White Knight smiled as he came to rest a short distance from Reven, the necromancer surrounded by his army of corpses. After a quick glance about, no doubt spotting the body of Longinus set amidst the symbols, Daartan tossed Katon to the side like unwanted trash.

On the ground, the vampire lay still, showing no signs of life. If it weren’t for my senses picking up the subtle mystical pulse of his presence, I wouldn’t have known he was alive.

They’d given him no opportunity to heal, apparently beating him-torturing him-to keep him compliant. His flesh remained torn in bloody strips, his face so swollen as to be unrecognizable. Worse even, his eye still hung loose from its socket, the wound now congealed with blood and thick pus. It had to be agonizing.

My face burned with the need for revenge, my knuckles popping against the grip of my gun. Only the cold, hard realization I stood no chance of taking out Daartan, kept me from going after him. What would my sacrifice be worth if Katon died right after? Nothing.

Besides, there were plenty of unknowns still up in the air. I might not be able to go toe-to-toe with Daartan, but when the opportunity presented itself, and it would, I’d put one in the back of his head.

Seeing him confront Reven gave me hope I might not have to wait too long for such an opportunity. Things heating up, I swung by and snatched up Poe’s gun, then circled off to find a more tactical staging point. As I settled in, I heard the Knight’s voice ring out.

“So necromancer, you dare to challenge God’s will?” Tendrils of frosty white spewed from Daartan’s mouth with every word.

Reven stood tall behind his rotting wall of zombies. “Your God has abandoned you.” He apparently had a brass pair on him. They clanged out, loud and clear. “I challenge no one’s will but yours, misguided as it is.”

“Blasphemy!” Daartan floated forward a few feet, the ambient temperature dropping several degrees with his displeasure. He drew Katon’s sword. “You will rue your black-tongued heresy when I rip your Godless soul apart.”

To my surprise, Reven smiled wide, his yellow eyes meeting Daartan’s withering stare with confidence. “Perhaps, ghost, but I shall die comforted by the knowledge you and your kind will have met the same fate.”

With that, the necromancer muttered something obscure and raised his hands to the sky, the rumble of thunder accompanying the movement.

From beneath the knights, the tarmac split and burst open with a roar. Chunks of asphalt were flung into the air as a ravening throng of ghouls exploded from beneath it, their grasping claws tearing at the surprised revenants. Their fevered growls filled the night with a feral intensity that set my skin crawling with a mix of fear and excitement.

As Reven drew back toward Longinus, his wall of undead at his side, the rest of his zombies joined the fray as well. They hurled themselves at the knights between the scads of ghouls that swarmed over them like ants on spilled ice cream. It was an amazing sight. Though I was just as much in danger of getting caught up in the maelstrom, it was pretty damn satisfying to see Daartan and his revenants forced on the defensive, even if it was only temporary.

While the trap was well sprung, Reven had to know his forces couldn’t win. The revenants were far too powerful to be beaten by mere ghouls and zombies, regardless of their numbers. It was only a matter of time until the knights won out. Glorious as it was then, there had to be more to the plan than throwing away their minions. The fact that Karra was once more somewhere out of sight led me to believe there was.

Then just as that thought rattled through my skull, I heard another rumble split the sky, this time from behind me. Spinning, my guns out in front, my balls scurried into my ass as Lilith joined the field. A legion of gaunts spilled across the tarmac before her.

While I’d expected her to show up ready to throw down, I hadn’t expected her to bring an army. Now there I was, caught between the chaotic convergence of Lilith, Daartan, and Reven’s forces. It wasn’t where I wanted to be, let me tell you.

I cast a quick glance at Daartan, his rage seeping off his face in wispy white spurts of glowing light. If he’d noticed Lilith’s arrival, he didn’t show it. He slashed through the undead like a whirlwind, Katon’s sword leaving behind a trail of sparkling power and severed limbs. For every one Daartan felled, two more took its place, pressing the knights back under a wave of fearless, insistent flesh. In the rush of battle, they left Katon behind, the fight moving away from where he lay.

As the gaunts stormed through the high grass to join the fray, I realized Veronica and Poe lay in their path. Cursing, I stuffed my guns into my waistband and raced back to them, putting myself exactly where I didn’t want to be; right in the middle of it all, but I couldn’t leave them to be trampled. My heart pounding louder than the approaching legions, I gathered them up, all niceness and consideration aside, and dragged them roughshod out of the way. We made it to safe ground just as the leading edge blew past.