Day 304 - The Devil's Gate

 The Devil’s Gate

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Several children had gone missing. After seasons of dry weather, the rains had come. The river had returned and the rocks were obscured and the basin had turned to mud. There were fears that some calamity had ensued and young explorers had met their untimely demise because of unsure footing. What looked like a place to cross may have been a death trap in waiting. No one was sure. It would be weeks or months before the water receded. Impatient parents were simultaneously afraid of what might be found.

Decades earlier the dam had been built. It wasn’t so important now, as the rains rarely came. But a long time ago, it had been necessary. In the years that followed, after the river mostly dried, the area became a location for hikers and explorers by day and sometimes something much more sinister at night.  Each generation seemed to have discovered the location, or perhaps they passed in down, year over year, telling siblings and friends about the secret night time hideaway. Home to drugs and drinking and teenage debauchery of all types. When parents grew scared of graffiti they didn’t understand, or games and music that perhaps held too many secrets, there was always some evidence to be found there. The police hardly ever believed anything to demonic was happening, but they knew to appease the parents, so they made sure to stop by at least once or twice on weekends, and many more times during the summer. Still, none of that stopped kids from being kids, or young people finding ways to outmaneuver authority.

There had been reports of strangers in the area. Some said they were tall and slender. Others swore they were bums, addicts or other such riff-raff. The police found no evidence of anyone living there, but after the first child went missing, they made sure to scour the area more often. Then the second child went missing and the adults began to freak out.

There was a story that decades ago, men of note used to gather there. It was nearly impossible to corroborate such an urban legend. In that age, men of note were able to bribe, strong arm or cajole their way to privacy. Rumors had it that some were government men. Others were religious leaders. There was a famed astrologist that supposedly would visit the area and chanting could be heard and the locals feared there were strange magical rituals being performed. No one knew for sure, but there were an increased number of pregnancies that occurred in the following months. If their ceremonies were nefarious, they seemed to also include a certain sensational bent.

The following summer the waters slowed and the river could be drained at the dam.

No bodies were found.

 

 

Tommy awoke to the sounds of men chanting and animals bleating. The area looked familiar, but he wasn’t sure how he got there. His head hurt and his mind was having trouble focusing. He crawled over the rocks towards the sounds. There he saw the shows flickering off the dam and surrounding rocks. An altar had been built. A bonfire set in front of it. Men and women danced naked. The throat of a goat was slashed open and blood flowed everywhere.

Tommy stumbled away, frightened. He must have made a sound, as the men and women turned. They were coming for him. He ran, unsure where to go. The terrain was rocky, the night was dark, he had to be careful, lest he slip.

The sounds of others were all around. Tommy wasn’t sure how to get away. The sounds got louder and the people came closer. The shadows of the night began to fall.

Day 303 - The Sun Rose

 The Sun Rose

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

The clouds began to part and the winds died down. The shadows receded and the sky turned from black to a dull grey. In the distance there was the glow of the future. The long night had ended and the day would return.

The soldier rose, the woman helping him to his feet. The man with the stoney arm seemed less stiff. He approached and the three went together, searching the other ruins.

Day had come.

The crow flew away, satisfied. The spell was broken. The murder was on the move, with other business to attend to, and different spectacles to observe.

Sophie, Darius, and Captain Hawkins found Ariadne near the former stables, caring for the dead.

“The spectre is gone,” announced Sophie.

“You’re sure?” asked Ariadne.

“As sure as I can be. I don’t think the Necromancer ever completed his spells. She seemed to need to change bodies, like she was using all their energy up. When I killed the servant woman she was inside of, I saw a green energy dissipate and fade away.”

“Good,” nodded Ariadne. “Enough have already died.

“Have you seen Lady Hanbrook?” asked Hawkins.

“Not yet.”

Hawkins took his leave to go search for other survivors.

“How’s your husband?”

“Better. His fever seems to have broken and he’s more mobile. The dawn seems to have reawaken something inside.”

Ariadne stood, brushing herself off. “Good for you, I suppose.”

“We didn’t cause last night. We fought to end things.”

“Yes, a great many people did. Not all as lucky as you two.”

“You hate what we are.”

“No. I’m tired and have seen too many bodies and need to leave this town.”

“You never told me how you knew what we are. How did you know when the others didn’t?”

“We all have our secrets. Yours was obvious. I just knew how to look.”

Ariadne walked away towards the rising sun.

Day 302 - Sophie IV

 Sophie IV

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Sophie found her at the altar, drawing a circle of blood on the floor. She looked like a servant woman, but it was obvious the spirit was in charge. Captain Hawkins, or what was left of him, stood nearby, waiting.

Ariadne and Darius were near but searching other buildings. They might be close, but they were too far to go and find. There was no time. The Spectre needed to be stopped before she had time to complete whatever spell she was working on.

She had no supplies to cast a spell. All Sophie had was her dagger. She would have to get close to use it.

The Spectre began chanting. Captain Hawkins seemed affected.

Sophie approached.

When she stabbed the Spectre, a green energy was released. The working woman was dead. Captain Hawkins collapsed to the floor. The green energy dissipated, but Sophie wasn’t sure if she was truly gone.

“What…? What happened?” asked Captain Hawkins.

“You’ll okay. Everything is right now.”

“And Lady Handbrook?”

Sophie didn’t have an answer.

“We shall go look for the others. Hopefully the darkness has passed and this night will finally be over.”

Day 301 - The Succubus Spectre

 The Succubus Spectre

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

The body was already weakening. She tried hard to pace herself, but it was an impossible task. She had mostly drained the warrior of her life, and if the others hadn’t attacked, she would have had to find someone else to possess. This warrior was running out as well. The night was longer than most but still if a body wouldn’t last more than a half a day, she would be in perpetual need and trouble. Her husband could have found a solution. But her husband was dead. He had worked and waited and taken ten years to find a way to bring her back. She didn’t have that luxury.

The army of the dead was to be the beginning. Now that would have to wait. She needed him back. Anything else could wait and recreated later. The dead would distract the others, she could focus on the task at hand.

She made her way towards the church, when a working woman emerged from the woods. A body! Fresh and healthy. Young. Perhaps it could survive longer than others.

She reached out, attempted to touch the mind of the woman. The woman screamed, her mind afire with pain and anguish. The woman fought harder than expected.

Her body slumped. The body was dying. She needed to take control of the working woman. There was no time to waste.

Others began to approach. Time was running out. She needed the body. She fought hard, but the working woman fought back.

Both women collapsed to the ground.

Day 300 - The Darkness Spread

 The Darkness Spread

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

The Necromancer fell. The army of the dead moved on without their master. The ghosts of the massacred soldiers hungered for new bodies.

Nadia was buried deep inside the darkness, the Spectre taken over. The Spectre commanded the dead, but somewhere deep down lost in the shadows, she felt a strange sensation. Nadia may be buried, but some small essence remained. The Spectre mourned the loss of her husband, but there was no time to mourn his loss. She had to ensure her transformation was complete and Nadia was erased completely. The Spectre fled the library. She had to reach the church and complete the spell.

In the woods, Abigail met her end. Karla and Delania fled from the spirits and undead, but we lost and the trees came ever closer.

Doctor Manning emerged from the woods and watched Selena run from ruin to ruin. If he was able to have a thought, he might have found her curious. Instead, he simply felt a dull hunger. He took another step forward in her direction. If he remembered her, he might have paused, saddened by the idea of killing someone he had known. Instead, he took another step after her.

The crows watched as Ariadne emerged, Sophie and Darius close behind. The Necromancer was dead, but the Spectre remained. Their job was yet undone.

Day 299 - Sophie III

 Sophie III

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

“I’m surprised you don’t want to go back for the others.”

“Do you really care?” asked Ariadne.

“So suddenly you’ve gone cold,” said Sophie.

“I’m interested in survival. I would think you’d appreciate that. Speaking of survival – how’s he doing? Made of stone yet?”

“Darius is fine.”

Neither looked at Darius. He didn’t look fine.

“Maybe we cut that infected arm off. Stop the spread.”

“You’ll do no such thing.”

The women stared at each other. Sophie was fairly sure Ariadne would kill her in a fair fight, but Sophie had never fought in a fair fight and didn’t intend to start now.

“Relax. It was only talk.”

“Maybe we should back to searching.”

“Fine.”

They glanced over the books as quickly as they could. Sophie needed help. She was a witch, but her power was nothing compared to the necromancer. Even if Darius was well and if the cat were still with them, she doubted they could stop him. They needed luck. Luck to find something here, either in the library itself or in the remnants of the old village. She was prepared for the ghosts of old, but the risen dead was beyond her capabilities.

It was too late. The moment was lost and none of it mattered now. The Necromancer arrived with Nadia. But it wasn’t Nadia. Or it was her body, but the ghost had taken possession of her.

“Can you take him?” asked Ariadne.

Sophie’s hesitation said it all.

“Try. I’ll take his wife.”

“Save the body if you can. I might be able to save Nadia.”

Ariadne laughed. “Sure. I’ll try.”

Sophie summoned her strength and tried to protect Darius. But the Necromancer was stronger than their combined best.

While he was distracted, Ariadne snuck up from the Necromancer and placed her revolver to the back of his head.

I guess we don’t need luck after all, thought Sophie.

Ariadne pulled the trigger and the hammer fell.

Day 298 - Abigail

 Abigail

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Abigail ran. She was scared and overwhelmed and forgot her friends and ran. Karla and Delania were probably dead. They had been separated in the chaos after the dead began to arrive. If they weren’t dead yet, they would be soon. There was no surviving this night. Not in battle anyway. So, she turned and ran.

There was a path that led to the forest. She knew it was there. She had to get away from the village. As fast as possible. She would head for the coast. There would be a boat, going somewhere, anywhere. Anywhere was better than here. She would go where it took her.

But the path was missing. The forest had grown. The abandoned village had been surrounded. The forest had come and swallowed them. She had to run. Had to escape. But there was nowhere to go.

The path was missing, but she had no other choice. Abigail ran into the woods. The path was gone, but she knew her directions. She coast was east. She would go east.

There was no east. No north or south or west or any other way. The branches closed the sky, the darkness fell as the moon was lost. The ground grew uneven. The trees grew close. The wind whipped across her face, and Abigail had no idea where she was, or which was she was headed.

 A figure approached.

“Hello! Who’s there?”

The figure said nothing.

It was Doctor Manning. Abigail had known him her entire life. But his life had ended several hours ago.

Abigail knew she should fight, but she had no way to win. She should scream, but there was no one to hear Doctor Manning had been her friend, a mentor, a caretaker. But this was no longer the same man. Now, Doctor Manning would be her end.

Day 297 - Sophie II

 Sophie II

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Sophie pulled Darius along with her, careful to touch only his healthy arm. The infections had spread and after being bitten by the undead dead there was no way no sure way to know what was or wasn’t dangerous. She had cast her spells and done all she knew how. Her husband was alive, but barely. She only hoped that time and a moment of peace would allow her to search for some other solution. It seemed unlikely she would find that peace, the Necromancer and his followers were too powerful and too close, but she had to try.

Her powers had waned. The cat had died to provide them a moment to gain their freedom. Sophie had known the cat helped her focus, but she was unaware of just how much power the feline possessed. Now more than ever, she needed it. She would miss that cat.

Darius staggered behind her, weighing her down, slowing her down. They stumbled their way through the ruins. Darius gasping for air, his words broken, begged her to go on and save herself. Sophie would pause when necessary, pull or push him if the moment called for it. She knew she should leave him behind but her heart would not let her.

As they approached a broken-down gazebo, Brother Janus, or what was left of him, stepped out in front of them. A group of undead came with him. Sophie prepared to fight him. She looked around for a weapon of any sort, when Darius pushed past her. He raised his stoney arm and used it as protection while charging the undead monstrosities.

“No!” Sophie screamed, but it was too late. Darius was already in the thick of things.

His arm would only protect him so long. Another bite might be the end, and he had plenty of flesh for the undead to feast upon. Sophie had to act. The night was full of insects and bugs and Sophie knew which enchantment to use.

They swarmed and covered Janus, picking and pulling him apart, eating him from the inside and out. Janus dropped to his knees as insects and bugs poured in and out of his eye sockets and ears and mouth and nose. His entire body was overrun.

Sophie grabbed Darius and pulled him away.

“That won’t be enough to stop them all, but it will buy us time.”

“Leave me. Let me buy you time.”

“Never.”

Sophie pulled Darius forward, heading for the remains of a once great manor home. “

Once inside, Sophie pushed a table against the door.

“That won’t do much to stop them when more arrive. Perhaps we can find a room the locks or the attic if it still stands.”

“Darling, it’s okay. We knew this day would come. The Necromancer and his followers are too powerful. If we this is how we go, then we go.”

“Stop talking. I’m not giving up and neither are you. We’re going to look around and find supplies and then we’ll heal you. That’s what we’re going to do. And after that, we’ll find a way to survive the rest of this night.”

When they reached the library, they found Ariadne going though the books. She turned to them, unsurprised to see them both.

“I suppose it makes sense you two would be here, considering your dark arts.”

“The others?” asked Sophie.

“Dead, undead, I couldn’t say. The forest seemed to come to life and I was lost in battle. When I finally freed myself, I ended up here. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Glad? To see a witch?”

“Tonight I am. You might be the only way we survive. I’ve been looking for answers in these books, but most are in languages I don’t recognize. Hopefully you’ll have better luck.”

“I suppose we better get to work then.”

Day 296 - The Cat

The Cat

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

The dead arrived. A human could feel fear. A human could be influenced. The knew no such emotions. There was only hunger. The cat had nothing to combat that with.

Her masters, the man and woman, were surrounded. A young soldier and a holy man in a robe were upon the man. The man was weak. His arm stiff. They could not bite his arm. His other flesh wasn’t so lucky.

The cat pounced, trying to save her master. She couldn’t prevent the hunger, but perhaps she could direct it.

The young soldier turned and attacked his companion. The young soldier tore another soldier apart. He attacked the spiritual man.

But it was all for naught. It was too late. The master was bit. The master was bleeding. He wasn’t dead yet, but soon would be. The dead were too powerful.

The cat leapt to her other master. The woman saw what had occurred. She pulled out herbs and began a spell. The cat understood what she was attempting. She was trying to save the man. She wouldn’t be able to do it alone. The cat had to focus all of her energy.

It was too much. The cat was losing strength. The spell was taking all she had to give and more. Perhaps the master would live. Perhaps not. The darkness had come. The shadows enveloped the cat as she closed her eyes, weak, afraid, drained.

The masters staggered away. The cat tried to make a sound. She didn’t have any strength left to give.

Day 295 - Sophie’s Spell

 Sophie’s Spell

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Sophie watched in horror as her husband dropped to one knee. The Necromancer was too powerful. Darius was doomed, if not now, then by the stone slowly creeping up his arm and transforming him into a statue. She knew she must act.

The cat circled her legs, staying close, pressing against her. Sophie knew the cat was special, that it helped to focus her energy. She hoped it was enough to save her husband’s life. She needed a bit of luck and a something that might heal his infections. She pulled some ground acorn powder from a pouch and threw it into the air.

The cat paused to watch and purred in approval.

The dust began to glow and the dead that surrounded her began to slow their approach.

Sophie ran towards her husband, the cat close behind.

Behind her the gap was closing, the walking dead were waking from her spell and began to turn to follow her.

Sophie tackled the Necromancer and broke his concentration. She hoped to buy her husband enough time to regain his strength.

The cat came to his side and began to rub its head against his body. Color returned to his face. Strength returned to his body. Darius began to stand.

There were ghosts everywhere, the dead were on their way. Darius looked to his wife and she looked back. For the first time all night, Sophie began to feel hope.

Day 294 - Nadia

 Nadia

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

The dark sky cleared and the moonlight hit her face. A hushed calm fell and she could no longer hear the screams of the dead or the calls from her companions. Her vision blurred as it had done so many times before when she fell into a dream. Usually, her dreams were a warning of some kind, but this was something different.

Nadia had tried to separate the spirit from the body. The spectre was too powerful and would not submit. The host fell to the ground, lifeless, but the green glow remained. Nadia had underestimated this spirit.

A black feather on the ground. A crow had watched. A crow saw all. Dark deeds and darker warnings. The bird had tried to warn her, but she hadn’t known how to hear. It was too late now. The spirit was too powerful.

Nadia watched in horror as the spirit approached her.

The night was quiet. A woman’s voice whispered in her ear. She was fading into the darkness, but the woman’s voice grew stronger, replacing her own.

Nadia no more, her body reborn, possessed, taken captive as the spirit lived again.

Day 293 - The Shadows Fell

 

 The Shadows Fell

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

The crow flew across the graveyard, finding a station atop a crypt, next to a dozen other crows. There were more on the ground and more in the trees and more upon more landing all the time, over and atop dozens and dozens of different graves. The squawked and cawed and flapped their wings as if to beat back any danger that might come their way.

The crow watched as the ghosts arrived. It had watched when the dead began to walk. It saw the solider swallowed by the shadows of the night. And the captain and the lady who emerged from the woods at the wrong time and place, only to join the ranks of the dead. The crow remembered; its spirit knew another life. If it understood envy, it understood what it had, had lost, and would fight to have again.

The crow watched as two women fought. One of them had two spirits, forced together inside her one body. Something very old had invaded and tried to steal the body. A war was raging internally. A war was raging externally too. The one woman had a glow, a glimmering halo about her. She was trying to pull the merged souls apart and separate them. The women struggled, physically and spiritually simultaneously. They wore trinkets and cast spells at each other, both suffering and in a great deal of pain.

Nearby the spirits of the dead surrounded a woman with her cat. The man in the robe directed the dead towards her. The cat hissed and the crow could tell some of the spirits were afraid. The crow didn’t understand the powers at play, but it could sense the danger within the furry one. The woman stood her ground, waving her hands and chanting the words. Little did she know it wasn’t really her that was casting the spell.

A man with a stiff arm pulled small rocks and stones from his pouch and cast them high into the air. He pulled a charm from a chain around his neck and began to hold it before his face, saying his own sacred words.

The man in the robe turned from the woman and her cat and charged this man with the stoney arm. They locked arms and butted heads, but the man with the stoney arm was weak and tired and began to fail. His legs dropped and he slipped to one knee. The man in the robe ripped the charm from him and crushed it in his hands. He threw his arms up and the dead soldiers came his way. The man with the stoney arm was surrounded.

Day 292 - The Ghost Soldier

 The Ghost Soldier

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

One foot was dragging now. His head fell forward or side to side; whenever he tried to lift it, it grew too heavy to maintain. Shoulders slumped, arms drooped, eyes closed. He moved forward on instinct more than anything else.

A man in uniform. His woman by his side. His army behind him. His ranks had changed and grown. The dead to one side, the undead to the other. The ghosts of former soldiers spread out amongst the ranks.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear his master’s voice. They had been summoned, and like a good solider, they had answered. A fog covered the earth as they made their way past the graves, new soldiers joining as they went. They had laid their guns down as they swore allegiance. Their master smiled, then tasked them with destroying the living. Those that would come to challenge him, and those in town, still asleep in bed. All must perish, so the master’s plans could prevail.

The crows followed. The crows watched. Some of them came and pecked at their eyes, their hands, their feet. He would swat them away, but they would always come back. His flesh ripped and torn, his uniform soiled, they came and went and came again, always with fresh attacks.  Why did they hate him? His mind was too far gone to fathom reasons why.

A new voice came. The mistress of his master. With her voice came new orders. The enemies had arrived. The army turned, a battle to begin, a battle to be won.

Day 291 - The Graveyard

The Graveyard

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Nadia chastised herself for not realizing what Sophie really was. She had been distracted. The cat should have given it away. Strange bedfellows as the saying goes. Still, she wasn’t happy about working with a witch.

Sophie and Selena had gone ahead. They had their plan, Nadia had hers. She didn’t know how to fight the walking dead, but she knew enough to combat the ghosts. She had an enchantment of her own, one that would bind a spirit to their grave so that the ghosts couldn’t leave their burial ground. It might not solve all their problems, but at least their enemy wouldn’t be adding to their ranks.

Nadia heard chanting nearby. At first, she thought it was Sophie, but the voice was different. Upon closer investigation, Nadia realized she was too late. This woman was already summing ghosts from their slumber.

Day 290 - The Village

 The Village

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Sophie led the way and Selena followed. The cat was close by, but it would weave in and out of the shadows, sometimes to their left, sometimes to their right. Selena never noticed if it was crossing in front or behind them. Brother Darius limped along behind them. Selena had offered to help him, but he was afraid his touch would be a danger to her and had declined. The others had realized the importance of stopping the necromancer, but their skepticism of Sophie remained, so the groups had parted ways.

Sophie had said they needed to find an ancestral tomb, and they would use the pages from the book of the occult to reverse the damages that had been created. Selena would help, but she doubted anything would bring back Dr. Manning to his former form. But preventing further death as still a noble deed.

The arrived at a graveyard, minutes outside the abandoned village.

“We pause here.”

“Why?” asked Selena.

“The man we seek to stop has been here before. I can feel the dark energies still rising from the graves. This could be where things began. So, this should be the first place we cleanse.”

Sophie and Darius began arranging sets of stones and relics on the ground. They began to chant and ignored Selena.

Selena looked around and noticed the crows were gathering on the tree branches. Some of the braver ones landed atop grave stones or wandered the ground, looking for seeds and berries to consume.

Selena turned when she caught the scent of smoke. Sophie had caught pages from the book on fire.

“What are you doing?”

“We can’t let them fall into the wrong hands.”

“What are you talking about?! You said we needed those to stop the necromancer’s plans.”

“It’s too late. He’s already here.”

The crows above began to flap their wings and the night winds began to swirl.

Day 289 - The Alliance

 The Alliance

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Both groups stared at Sophie. She took her time and lovingly stroked the cat. She would have her say, but only what she wanted them to know.

“My husband and I--”

“Husband?” interrupted Nadia.

“You? A witch? Married to a man of God?” asked Selena. “Impossible.”

“A man, yes, but a servant of another than the god you reference. A being who knows no silly restrictions regarding who should marry whom.”

“Why should we trust you?” asked Nadia. “You’ve done nothing but lie. And now you want us to believe that a witch has our best interest at heart.”

“Lie? I told you of the dangers of the night. I told you about the ghosts at the covered bridge. I knew how you would behave if I explained what I was, so I kept that to myself. But this village has many secrets. Ask any of the servants that arrived with that one,” Sophie pointed at Ariadne and her crew. “The servants always know the gory details of their lords and ladies. Details they keep hidden. Many of the elders have given their souls over to dark and dangerous things. But they aren’t what we have to fear tonight. Tonight, there is another. A warlock. A necromancer. One who would kill us all to get his revenge for what happened in the decade prior.”

“You speak of mystery and deception and spin stories. But words mean little from someone of your ilk.”

“I have the pages to prove it. Tales of evil deeds and summoned demons and crimes against those that owned this land before. Pages of a magical journal, that must be protected at all cost from the necromancer. Pages that must be destroyed lest they fall into the wrong hands.”

“Pages…” whispered Selena.

Sophie turned to her.

“You know of them?”

“Yes. I was tasked with protecting a book. But some of the pages were missing.”

“Perhaps we have a mutual friend.”

“Manning…?”

Sophie nodded.

“You’ll be sad to learn our friend is now one of them.”

Sophie paused; genuine sadness crossed her face. She had Selena shared a moment of quiet reflection.

“He would have hated that.”

“Yes.”

“No matter. We have the book. Together. We can do what must be done. What he would have wanted.”

“I still don’t know why we should trust you,” interrupted Nadia.

“Or why we should trust any of you,” added Adriadne.

For a moment it seemed as if Ariadne and Nadia might come to blows.

“We don’t have time for any of this. My husband is near death. We need to find this necromancer and reverse his spells. If the rest of you want to bicker and battle, Selena and I will take care of things ourselves.”

“We will?”

“Yes. You have a strength inside, a deep importance. Manning never would have trusted you if you hadn’t. Forget these other women. You and I shall save the night.”

Sophie could tell Selena was tempted. Her words were as attractive and complimentary as possible. This poor woman was obviously desperate for her life to matter, and even with Manning dead, she was still dedicated to him and the idea that he cared for her. Sophie wasn’t sure she actually needed the book, but any extra bit could help.

“What do we have to do?”

“Go to the place it all began. The site of the massacre, the abandoned village.”