Tim Marquitz - Resurrection

Behind them, Lilith bellowed orders, sending her troops out scattershot, some after Reven, the rest at Daartan. A handful of enslaved minions stayed at her side as she remained behind.

Grateful we’d made it to safety in time, I let out a wheezing sigh of relief. It was premature.

As Lilith’s army took the field with a roar, she came to stand before me, a sneer mangling her gorgeous lips. I stepped forward, guns drawn, placing myself between her and Veronica. Her minions took up defensive positions in front of their master, grumbling threats my direction, but they stayed put.

“You are an infuriating little man, Triggaltheron.”

“I get that a lot.”

She shook her head, her sneer transforming into a toothy smile. “I guess I can’t complain too much though. Not only have you led me to Longinus, you’ve managed get my get my snot-nosed daughter caught up in all the drama.” She gestured to Veronica, chuckling, the malice in her eyes obvious. “Lucifer was right, you are occasionally useful.”

I knew she was just trying to rattle my cage, but it still hurt deep down to think my uncle might have actually said that. Not willing to let her get to me, I fired back.

“Funny thing, he said the same thing about you.” The smile dropped from her face. “Although, I do remember him saying how much better your sister was in bed.”

Lilith let loose a growl like I’d never heard, its rage making every hair on my body stand at attention. “Kill him!” She shoved the nearest gaunt, knocking him to the ground while the rest tripped over themselves to get to me.

Mission accomplished.

Certain the gaunts would follow me, I left Poe and Veronica where they lay and bounded off into the grass. Driven by Lilith’s overwhelming desire to see me dead, they did just that, nipping at my heels like angry Chihuahuas.

Torn between punishing me and reclaiming Longinus, it seemed Lilith’s interest in the Anti-Christ won out. Her eye on the prize, she turned her back and headed after Reven, leaving her goons to handle me.

Figuring now was as good a time as any, I played one of the last cards I still had control over. “You here, Michael?”

The telepathic connection opened in an instant. “I’m here.”

I breathed a sigh of relief that Veronica had done exactly as I’d asked of her. “Katon is free of the revenants and I could use a little help.”

Michael didn’t bother to answer, wasting no time delivering the message.

Nearby, where Chatterbox lay, a flash of crimson light exploded in the deep grasses. As it faded, a shadow appeared in its place. Storming across the intervening distance between us, not bothering to conceal his presence was Rahim.

The gaunts chasing me stopped in their tracks at seeing the wizard’s sudden appearance. Glad of the distraction, I stopped running, spun around, and shot the one closest to me. It fell dead, a smoking crater in its forehead, a raging volcano of blood of gunk spewing from the back of its skull. The four behind it went up in a blaze of not-so-much-glory as Rahim seared them into piles of willowy ash before the one I’d shot even hit the ground.

His dark gaze settled on mine. He wasted no time on unnecessary words. “Where?”

I pointed, understanding that Katon came first.

With a glimmer of thanks in his eyes, Rahim raced to the enforcer’s side. Heedless of his own safety and well-being, Katon laying just yards from the frenzied battle, he heaved the enforcer up into his arms. Within seconds, the pair disappeared.

Assured that Katon was now out of harm’s way and Daartan had his hands full, for the moment at least, I went after Lilith. Her gaunts had dealt a crippling blow to Reven’s defending zombies and now the two stood face to face, just a short distance from where Longinus lay. They were arguing, their voices pitched and angry. Though I couldn’t understand what was being said through the wall of noise that pounded against my ears, their wild gestures told me it was beyond heated. Things were gonna get bad soon.

While their attention was on each other, both having forgotten about me, I maneuvered around behind them. Surrounded as they were by their battling minions, there was no way I could shoot either of them before they knew I was there. Cursing under my breath, I crept low in the grass, doing my best to avoid being seen. I’d made it to within thirty feet before my luck gave out.

A gaunt that’d just finished tearing a zombie to pieces, looked up from its kill and spotted me as I tried to eke past. Its feral eyes narrowed and a rumbling growl erupted from its throat. It barreled after me, intent on taking me down. I would have loved to shoot it, but surprise was the only advantage I had at that point. Despite the noise level, there’d be no mistaking a gunshot in a fistfight, this close behind them.

That didn’t stop me from using my gun. After all the practice I’d gotten in with Marcus, I felt I was pretty adept at delivering a satisfactory pistol-whipping. Turns out, I was right.

The gaunt closed and I backhanded it like it owed me money. The grip slammed into its face with a crunch, its orbital bone snapping under the pressure. Its momentum redirected by the blow, it stumbled past and crashed to the ground. It stared up at me, one eye doing a twitching dance, swirling unfocused in its socket. The other got to see the gun coming back for seconds. After that, it saw nothing at all.

The crumpled gaunt at my feet, I spun around to reorient myself just in time to see Lilith standing over Reven. She straddled him, his wadded cloak clutched in one of her hands, the other held back, ready to strike. He screamed at her, his voice sharp and piercing, but without a hint of fear. I still couldn’t make out what he shouted, but it sounded pretty damn colorful.

The necromancer’s screams adding to the covering sounds of fighting, I saw the opportunity to get behind Lilith and took it, putting hoof to tarmac. As I got closer, her arm swept down at Reven, her sharpened nails extended. His shrieking curses were cut short, replaced by a wet gagging sound as her makeshift claws tore into his neck. An arc of crimson followed in the wake of her arm, the red, dripping cords of his throat in her hand. Laughing like a drunken hyena, she cast aside Reven’s twitching form, leaving him to die as she made her way to Longinus. Somewhere deep inside my head, a voice cheered his demise, plying me with hope that with his death, the threat of the Anti-Christ’s return had been ended.

Sadly, I knew better. Nothing was ever that simple in my life. So, determined to see it through to the end, I raced off after Lilith.

I growled aloud as I realized I wouldn’t catch her before she made it to Longinus’s body, having to dodge yet another gaunt that stumbled into my path. As I batted it aside, I cast a glance at Daartan to see where he was.

Though still in the thick of it, he and his revenants were turning the tide. It wouldn’t be long before they overcame the swarming minions, aided in part by Reven’s death; the zombies and ghouls already slowing as the necromancer gasped to draw in a last breath, his lungs filling with his own, bitter blood.

Unconcerned with his death at that moment, intent upon stopping Lilith, I doubled my effort to get to her. She’d reached Longinus and was bent over him, gently pulling the silken shroud over him. Suddenly, the sea of minions parted, zombies and ghouls dropping to the ground in fleshy heaps, their magical link to life severed as Reven’s heart stilled inside his chest. A pang of sadness rattled in the background of my mind. Though I inwardly celebrated Reven’s death, I couldn’t help but feel the loss of Chatterbox, his energies tied to the necromancer. It was a sad day in Metalville.