Descent (Part Eleven)

Content Advisory: this story contains scenes of violence, strong language, and allusion to indecency with minors. Reader discretion is advised.

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Something clattered to the ground as I stared at Sasha, the sound of metal and wood striking stone. Behind me, distant and distorted as though I was under water, I heard shouting, struggling. Somewhere, Mrs. Sherman was laughing, egging on someone named Shunsuke. But I could only see Sasha and the stranger walking steadily down the long aisle towards where Mr. Sage stood.

His arms were thrown wide, handsome face fixed in a smile so saccharine that it twisted my gut just to see him. Briefly, Aragorn flashed through my brain. He had stood just like that, pushing through the inner gate of the Hornburg. The question was, what door was he throwing open?

“Amy!” I barely registered Mary’s voice. She was somewhere else. Besides, she could take care of herself. But Sasha was right there, if I only ran forward I could catch her, take her hand.

Her hand.

I refocused there, tried to understand why it stood out in my mind. Something about those black gloves she was wearing? They were nice, fitting over her fingers like a second skin. But the glove was moving. Writhing and undulating, neither catching nor reflecting the light from the pale, heatless fires that burned in stone goblets around the room.

The boy that Sasha was walking beside took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. Sasha had always wanted to do that, to find someone who just wanted to walk hand in hand with her. But this was wrong, dead wrong. He was wrong. Not even looking over at her, eyes locked on Mr. Sage at the top of the altar steps, it was as though the boy did not even know Sasha was there.

Indignation battled with something deeper, something more primal in my heart. It wasn’t romantic love, and wasn’t lust. I knew I‘d never felt either for her. It was something else, older than even those two things. A leftover from the tiny, furry creatures we used to be.

Fear.

It twisted in my stomach, making me almost regret the water and granola bars from earlier. There was something about her hand, about that glove that fit her like a second skin. A something that writhed, tendrils breaking off from her and extending slowly towards the strange boy.

He didn’t notice. How could he not notice? I could see it even as far away from them as I was. But what-

Spinning on my heel, I saw Mary still struggling with one of the horrible fish people from the fire room. He, distinctly a he, was familiar. I didn’t question how or why I knew him, instead rushing forward and sweeping up the cane on instinct. Without knowing exactly what I did, I raised it high over my head and brought the tip crashing down onto the twisted, half-human head.

Dropping Mary, he staggered back, tripping over his own feet and crashing to the floor. I laughed, joy and pride swelling in my chest.

“Do it,” I heard Mrs. Sherman coo, but I paid it no mind. The thing was dead. I had actually killed one of them!

I turned towards Mary, eyes gleaming and stumbled back, mouth open in terror. She was clutching at her throat, almost like she was choking on something. But she wasn’t. Or rather, there was nothing inside her throat that was doing this to her.

Her beautiful dark face was changing colour, turning awful shades of greyish purple as her powerful fingers clutched her own throat. Dropping the cane, I rushed forward and tried to pry her own fingers away from her neck. But I wasn’t strong enough, not by half.

Growling, she managed to turn just right and hurl me to the floor.

I sprawled there, hitting my elbow hard. Static exploded across my brain, the whole arm going numb, then quickly shifting into painful pins and needles.

Rolling, just the way that my brother had taught me to in case I ever fell wrong, I was up on my feet again in seconds. Swaying from the force of the impact and shock at what Mary was doing.

She fell to her knees and Mrs. Sherman’s horrible, girlish giggle burst through the blinding pain and panic. I turned to her, too shocked still to do more than just stand there as she walked closer to, then past me.

Turning, I watched her grab Shunsuke by the arm and haul him to his feet. The monster shook his head and glared at me with one bulbous, hate-filled eye. The one remaining human eye, dark brown with the imprint of a glasses nose pad just visible where he had probably worn them forever, was crying. Why was that?

I remembered him now. His torn black tunic with little gold braiding around the collar, it was so familiar, how could I have missed it before?

“But Mary killed him,” I said, Mary’s choking gurgles still coming from behind me.

“She did try, dear,” said Mrs. Sherman, giggling again. “But sadly, with this one, she did it wrong. Now she went and lost her token, meaning that I had the chance to slip in there, making getting rid of her easy.”

“Huh?”

“Oh never mind. Shunsuke, the big one is lost. Get the other one in line.”

Shunsuke shambled forward, arms and legs moving out of synch, like he was still learning how to walk. He reached for me, webbed fingers stretching even as tears still fell out of his one human eye. It looked like the skin on his face was caught, frozen mid escape attempt while fleeing from the grey scales. For some reason, I felt pity. The boy was in pain.

But I couldn’t focus on that. He was slow, so I dropped under his outstretched arm and rushed for the cane, my only weapon.

Sherman got there first.

Stooping, she picked up the flimsy piece of wood and said, “now I did warn Sage about this thing. And really, just leaving it lying around where any old sacrifice can find it? Is he trying to fail?”

Without thinking, I barreled into Sherman from behind.

It was like hitting a wall. A wall that could fall.

The sheer force of my dead sprint, reached in what felt like an Olympic record number of steps, threw her off balance. Thanks Newton. And my track coaches.

Swearing, she tried to catch herself with the cane, fingers wrapped around the beagle’s head handle. The silver handle. She screamed and threw the cane away from herself, sending it clattering against the stones a few meters away.

For my part, I ignored both her and the moaning, terrifying to look at monster that she seemed to have made from an innocent boy. I sprinted forward, swept low like I was grabbing a dropped baton in a relay, and came up holding the prize.

Not giving myself time to even think, I skidded across the floor, scrambling to try and get traction, then sprinted straight back towards Sherman and Shunsuke.

I didn’t have a plan. Not really. I just knew that I needed to do SOMETHING. To die trying, if I was going to die anyway. And maybe take just one of these fuckers with me.

Howling, a long wordless cry, I leapt into the air, hands wrapped around the base of the cane, and brought the beagle’s head crunching down into the top of Shunsuke’s head. His skull split, the grey scaled skin actually peeling away from the point where the silver touched him.

Shunsuke crashed to the floor, half-infected mouth screaming. A terrible combination of human agony and monstrous howls. He writhed, webbed fingers coming up to claw at where the beagle’s head was still lodge in his skull.

“Why won’t you just fucking die,” I screamed, the sound barely denting the unnatural silence of the altar chamber. Somewhere just beyond knowing, I kept track of Sasha, she was about half way to the Altar. Maybe if I could survive long enough, if I could just kill the stupid boy, then I could save Mary somehow and Sasha too. All I needed to do was keep Shunsuke down, and then get past Mrs. Sherman.

Putting my foot on his chest I heaved the cane out of his head then stepped back and brought it down again, straight into his human eye, with all my strength. His body convulsed, a terrible silent scream filling my ears, like a metal rasp against my brain. Falling to one knee, I focused on Shunsuke’s ruined face. The hole in the top of his head was… had it closed up?

The one in his face was still there, though. The cane was holding it open as the body thrashed, claws rending its own flesh. But its movements were slowing. I didn’t have time to question it; even as the boy’s mouth opened, the human side trying to form words, I stood, pulled out the cane, and struck again. Screaming in fury.

“Ariga-” then the body stopped moving.

Shunsuke was dead.

I stumbled back briefly, then barreled forward. I could worry about the ethics of killing him later, he had tried to hurt Mary. Even if he wasn’t completely responsible for his own actions, he had been a threat. Like when my neighbour’s dog had gotten rabies a few years back. It was probably kinder and safer this way. Better to put him down than let him suffer.

“That,” Sherman’s cold voice brought me up short. “Was very rude. He was nearly perfect.”

Nothing even approaching sorrow was in her voice. She reminded me of my mother when one of the plants in her garden failed. Not sad, not angry, only ice cold disappointment. Her eyes were on me, not the corpse.

“After all the fun I had with him this past year, I guess I can’t be angry. He served his purpose, but still, you didn’t even let him get through his change. Poor kid died while still in pain.”

“Fun?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, dear. Lots of fun. Boys you understand, they’re so easy to wrap around your finger. And I needed them to be willing to trust me, you understand. Just have a bit of fun with them, and they’ll do anything you say, especially at his age. That’s why Sage and I switched up, you know. Why he was at Saint Martha’s and I went to find poor Shunsuke there.”

Bile rose in my throat. If she was saying what I thought she was saying, then I had some kind of moral imperative to kill her, didn’t I? It was bad enough that she had turned the boy, and maybe others if the holes in the ranks of male students was any indication, into some kind of monster. But the implications of her words…

I didn’t scream.

Walking forward, I let the cane fall to my side, silver head dragging on the floor.

“You’re evil,” I said, slurring my words, trying to make her think I was in a trance of some kind. I think it worked, she grinned at me, crooking her finger at me.

“That’s right, dear. You go right ahead and think that. But, you know, it’s nothing too wrong. I‘m sure if Sage could have pulled it off, then he would have done so at Saint Martha’s. But he never had my charisma. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun with your food. What other good do you all serve before being brought here? And what’s the fun in immortality if you can’t enjoy the little things.

“Shunsuke there was my favourite, it’s why I remember his name. Oh,” she grinned, shivering and touching her neck with her fingers, “he was always so attentive. So eager to please. It’s a shame, really. I did want him to live, I mean, I hadn’t gotten bored with him yet. But I suppose I’ll just have to find a replacement. No matter, they’re ten yen a dozen.” The last words were spoken on a cackle.

I struck.

Moving faster than I could ever remember having moved before, I swung the cane up, trusting in momentum to at least knock the evil woman off balance.

She moved.

At the last moment, whipping out of the way of the strike like a snake. I swear she did not have bones. Like Mr. Sage when Mary had tried to strike at him in the other room, it was like she bent out of the way; skin distorting, melting and remoulding itself like wax.

Mary’s choking sounds suddenly broke off.

Sherman's laugh was high, manic. It was no longer the weird, almost childlike giggle from before. Her eyes were locked onto me again, burning with something almost like glee. So fast that the movement actually blurred, her hand came up to grab my wrist.

I screamed, reflexively dropping the cane.

“Stupid child,” crooned Mrs. Sherman into my ear. “You could have joined us, we might have had a use for you. But now, your little friend is going to strangle herself for me and you’re going to watch. Then you’ll see what the Chained do to your other friend. Once the ceremony is over, Sage and I are going to enjoy throwing you to the Thralls. It could have been so easy. Less pain. But now-”

Her words cut off into a wet gurgle.

Through the haze brought on by the pain of her grip, I saw Mary. Beautiful, wonderful Mary, pulled her fist away from Sherman’s throat; clearly, she had landed a punch while Sherman was distracted. The teacher must have been so focused on me that she didn’t even notice Mary approaching.

“Must have lost focus. You’re feisty,” she said, voice low, almost sultry. “That’s ok, I suppose we can wait for the Change to take you, then we can feed her to you.”

“Not likely,” Mary’s voice was small, pained. I could see spasms wracking her powerful frame almost like she was still strangling herself. I had fallen to my knees, one hand holding the other wrist. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

“Dear,” said Mrs. Sherman, taking her hand away from her neck, there was no evidence of Mary’s punch. “My darling, what do you think you can do to stop me?”

Mary’s lips peeled back, a bestial snarl as she squared off with the bigger woman. Sherman Tank was a proper description for her, despite the unnerving voice that made one think of a girl half her size and barely old enough to flirt.

Then I saw Mary’s teeth. Some of them were longer, sharper than they should have been. Looking almost like shark’s teeth. Almost like…

In a daze, from shock and the pain, I turned and looked at Shunsuke’s corpse. The body of a boy I had killed - why didn’t that phase me? But I couldn’t think about that, couldn’t question it beyond just realizing that I wasn’t bothered. The boy had teeth just like Mary’s new ones, in the monstrous half of his face.

What had the teacher said? Something about it being in Mary’s blood? So I had been right about the wounds? But… what about the cane? Shunsuke hadn’t reacted until I hit him with the head of it. With the silver head…

“Mary,” I said, fingers of my good hand wrapping around the cane’s shaft. “Bring her down.”

Sherman smiled at us. Mary didn’t say anything.

Like a referee had blown a starting whistle, she barrelled forward arms out to the side. At the last second, Sherman swerved out of the way, but fell into the trap. Mary had approached off centre, making one direction a better escape route and the arrogant bitch had taken it. I swung at her, fast but not with all my power.

It almost worked, I got within a hair’s breadth of her before she flowed out of the way, like her bones were water, repelled by the silver. She snarled at me, trying to regain her balance as Mary’s massive hand gripped her arm.

Surging forward, I swung again, still not exactly trying to hit her, just to make her move. She writhed, easily avoiding the swing but unable to escape Mary’s powerful grip.

Blinking sweat out of my eyes, I tried to follow the wrestling match going on before me. Even if the silver itself wouldn’t kill Mary yet, being hit with a cane isn’t exactly good for anyone. I couldn’t risk hitting her, not if there was still the merest chance that I could save her.

Mary roared. It was human sound, rage and fear and pain and other things I don’t have names for. Her other hand came around and latched onto the same arm as the first. Setting her feet, she surged forward and slammed Sherman into the wall, making little streams of stone dust fall from the far away ceiling.

The woman tried to squirm away, body rippling like a snake caught by its head. She managed to break free, somehow turning herself around and shoving hard against Mary. I shouted, maybe it was a word, a command, maybe not, but Mary understood anyway. She dropped to one knee, and I brought the head of the cane down onto the nape of Sherman's neck.

She screamed. Long and loud, the force of the sound actually making me stumble, making the tiny scared animal in my head try to take over and run for cover. I nearly broke, but from where she was kneeling, Mary grabbed one of Sherman’s ankles and heaved, bringing the woman thudding down.

Without looking, without saying anything, Mary grabbed the shaft of the cane and yanked it out of my hand. Then, snarling, “this is for him,” drove the cane into Sherman’s mouth.

Teeth cracked and the woman screamed, writhing, trying to get away. Her skin stretched and distorted, looking almost like it was fighting with itself. Blood flew, falling from her eyes like the tears of a saint

“You can’t,” she tried to say, but the rest of the words were lost as I added my weight to Mary’s and forced the silver dog’s head deeper into the evil woman’s mouth.

Fear radiated off the woman, the monster at our feet. I could see it plainly in her beautiful eyes. She did not want to die, did not believe that this was happening. Did not understand how it was possible. Mary opened her mouth in a silent snarl, looking almost like she wanted to tear a chunk off the dying woman.

We pushed again, something snapped, and Sherman’s body fell limp. The manic writhing of her skin, the stretching and contorting of her muscles and bones stilling as her heart finally stopped beating. As blood flowed from her blank, staring eyes.

Mary’s hands fell away, and she collapsed back over Sherman’s splayed legs. I did not know what was happening. All that mattered was that one monster at least had died. But she had said something important. Back when she was confident and taunting, before I had killed her pet, she had said something that still floated around in my brain. The infection is in Mary’s blood.

It was a terrible risk. A desperate gamble, but, apologizing to Mary – who I don’t think could hear me – I pulled up her shirt, revealing her flat stomach and tore one of my bandages off her largest wound. My stomach revolted at the sight, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t risk her. Not when I might loose Sasha too, not after everything we’d been through together.

Apologizing to a girl who couldn’t hear me, I yanked the cane out of Sherman’s mouth and went to wipe it on my shirt. Freezing when I saw the blood boiling off the silver head, saw the burn marks around Sherman’s mouth and through her broken teeth into the ruined cavern of her mouth.

Risk.

I wiped off what was left of the blood, waited a moment for the steam to stop rising, and pushed the silver into Mary’s wound. She screamed, back arching as I fought to keep the cane’s head where it was. Maybe this would kill her, maybe the infection was too far along by now and I would walk away with her blood on my hands. But it was worth the risk. Even if she died, I had no other way to save her. Like with Shunsuke, she might well be better off dead.

But she didn’t die.

When the screaming ended, she just lay there, shivering. Tears streaming down her face. I could see the bruises around her throat where she had tried to strangle herself, standing out starkly against her ashen skin.

“That hurt,” she said, forcing out a weak laugh.

I pressed my forehead to hers.

“Give me an earring,” she said, completely throwing me for a loop.

“What?”

“They’re silver, right?”

“Oh my, that won’t work, dear. No access to the blood since you’re already wearing some yourself.” Mr. Sage’s voice spoke from just over my right shoulder. “You won’t need it any how. Hmm… Still making a mess, I see.”

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"A Community Story [Challenge]" By: Donna Fox (The whole inspiration for this entire series)

"Descent: A Community Story Challenge" by: Yours Truly

"Descent (Part Two)" by: Mackenzie Davis (who is amazing, and everyone should read)

"Descent (Part Three)" by: *politely raises hand* me

"Descent (Part Four)" by: this dude right here.

"Descent (Part Five)" by: some guy named Alex, seems cool.

"Descent (Part Six)" by - drumroll please.... me!

"Descent (Part Seven)" by: is he still doing this? Yes! I am :)

"Descent (Part Eight)" by who's got two thumbs and a writing addiction? This guy!

"Descent (Part Nine)" retrieved from the jaws of the Archive itself by: the last shreds of my sanity XD

"Descent (Part Ten)" discovered on an archaeological dig, that's why it took so long, by a certain very tall dude with bad time management skills ;)