Chapter 529: Hard things
The ‘Abyssal Hunter’s’ room was somehow built like a spinning gear, or the world’s worst fair ride. The walls and the attached chains turned around the central platform, the dangling metal links sweeping towards the players.
If they didn’t move, or at least get under or over the chains, they’d be pushed and dragged into the gaps in the floor, and down into the lava below.
But there was some kind of magic crackling around those chains. Mason had a bad feeling about trying to get ‘under’ them in particular, an unpleasant light following each. Getting over might work, but it would take quite a jump.
If they abandoned that idea entirely and followed the ‘spin’, it meant they’d have to start jumping between bridges, some of which were several feet apart. The physical players could handle it, but the casters…
The passage had sealed behind them, the opening completely closed off by stone. The ‘spinning’ was slow, so they had a bit of time before they had to move. Mason could see rising panic on several faces. He didn’t blame them, because he saw only one other possibility…
“Anyone who thinks they can’t get over the chains, or jump between bridges, has to stand and turn on the platform with the demon,” he said. “Move, unless someone has a better idea in the next three seconds.”
The demon was turning with the chains, like the world’s fattest, most disgusting dancer. His thick, ooze-dripping arms waved like a conductor, a bloody smile turned up his wet lips.
“I’ll just float up.” Seamus held up his staff and started hovering. It seemed as good an ideas as any.
Alex silently started picking his way down the ramp. Demi looked at Mason with wide eyes, then followed. Tommaso jumped a chain as a test, but seemed like he had no problem.
“Should we just run down there and attack it, Patron?” Phuong started moving as Mason shrugged. Somehow he sincerely doubted it would be that simple. But they had to find out.
“Try.”
He summoned his bow and loosed a test arrow straight at the demon’s head. The missile flew right on target, but bounced off a red shield that crackled around the demon’s body. Because of course it did.
“Protect yourselves first,” he shouted. “But if you see anything, figure out anything, call it.”
He decided the most likely thing would be the jail cells. There’d be something inside they had to deal with—whether puzzles or creatures somehow fueling the magic chains. With his speed and agility he needed to make it a priority.
But he seriously doubted the demon would just stand there when the others reached the platform. He didn’t know what it would do, but he expected not to like the answer.
Whatever it was, the others were going to have to deal with it for a little while.
“Be ready for a fight on that platform,” he yelled, activating Aspect of the Cheetah as he hopped a chain and ran for the closest bridge, Streak right on his heels. “I’m going up to the cells. Keep them safe, Phuong!”
“Safe?” The demon called, laughing again. “Safe he says, children!”
Mason jumped and landed squarely on a narrow bridge, then scrambled up towards the first cell. He reached the bars, half expecting whatever was inside to come smashing out. But nothing happened, and he saw no way to open them except pull and rely on ridiculous strength.
“Oh he’s coming to see you!” The demon said excitedly. “Wait until he sees my handiwork. Oh what’s this? Come to join me?”
Mason glanced back to see his players taking up places around the platform. The melee jumped over chains and spread out, but Alex and Demi were stuck on a narrow slice of the platform together.
Phuong and the others tried a few test swings, each hitting the same red shield without any obvious effect. But they wisely kept attacking, because at least maybe they were weakening the thing.
Another chain formed over the demon’s head, twisting and coiling like a snake as it formed around one of his hands. No, not like a snake. The ‘chain’ shimmered and took the body of an actual animal, growing out and splitting with three heads.
They hissed and stared at Mason, but the demon made a tsking sound.
“Not yet, my lovelies. His friends first. Better, much better.”
The snakes dove and struck in three directions—one bouncing off a swipe from Phuong, another snapping down on the middle of Jason’s offered polearm. The third deflected off Alex’s shield.
Mason turned away and growled as he ripped open the cell, getting in just before a chain swept by. As predicted, he found more of the demonic runes all over the floor and walls. In the center stood a…zombie child. Or something.
It was the size of a small human. Or, with some horror—a goblin child. It wore what looked like police riot gear, a SWAT shield dangling off one arm. As soon as he entered it pulled off its helmet with a clumsy jerk, and Mason stared. A bludgeoned human head was stitched on the body of a goblin. And it was a head Mason remembered.
“He killed him, my lovelies.” The demon laughed. “Bashed his face in with a rock. Put an arrow through his heart. He remembers, doesn’t he?”
Yes. Mason remembered. The dead man had been part of a group of four players he and Haley met just outside the tutorial. They’d squabbled over a kill, then Haley cooked for them to try and calm the situation as they talked. Their leader, some kind of tank type, had been itching for a fight. He’d said lewd and offensive things. He’d made threats.
Mason had known what he was, and what he wanted. He’d been just waiting for a chance to strike. He didn’t give him the chance.
He hit him with a rock, just as the demon said, and finished him off. It was him or us, Mason told himself.
He stared into the bruised, dead eyes of the long dead man, the rotting bits and pieces. Was there a chance he’d been wrong? Had the guy just been a dick with no real plan?
It was possible. But so what? You couldn’t know for sure. You didn’t always get to make clean decision when it was life or death. You usually didn’t. Hesitation could get you slaughtered, and had in that man’s case.
Mason wasn’t going to risk his life, Haley’s life, because he lacked the will to kill. You didn’t threaten a dangerous man and the things he loved and not risk paying a price. Mason refused to take all the blame.
“Go on,” the demon called over the sound of battle. “What’s he waiting for, hmm?”
Mason looked around the room but understood nothing. For the millionth time he cursed Blake in his mind, wondering what his brother could be doing to help, not just here but out there. Mason couldn’t read the runes, couldn’t identify anything he was seeing.
All he could do was sense the wrongness, smell the unnatural life and magic all around him. He was a damn blunt-force tool, made to smash worse things them him right in their faces, and let someone else sort out the morality. The details.
“You want me to feel guilty?” he yelled, gripping the handle of his Claw, snorting in contempt.
He killed to protect people weaker than him. People who didn’t have the strength or will to do what was required. He’d have killed a hundred Sebastians or Shield-guys to save one Haley. He couldn’t give a shit for moral mathematics.
And some foreign alien god wanted to what? Judge him for it? Was that the point of this?
No. To hell with him, or it, or they.
People he saved could judge him one day. If it made them feel better he could take their judgment, too. They’d have the privilege because they’d be alive, alive because of men like him.
You couldn’t be angry at soft creatures because they were soft. It was why he loved them. Why he’d learned he needed them just like they needed him. But he wouldn’t be judged by other hard things. Not when he knew how the sausage was made.
He slashed and cut the ‘zombie’ creature in two, watching the dead man’s eyes roll for the second time. Then he turned and ran to the bridge, waiting for a chain to pass before leaping to the next bridge in a single, precise jump.
“Hold on,” he shouted, really hoping he was doing the right thing.
It was impossible to tell from the demon’s reaction. The moment he’d cut down his target it started laughing like a maniac. Its ‘snake-flail’ rose and dove, jaws snapping at his players as the demon turned. They struck at its shield, moving on the platform and following in the ridiculous spin.
Seamus was still floating above, loosing flaming missiles and looking content. Demi was huddled behind Alex, the stoic Belarusian following the platform with determined eyes. Becky, Phuong, Annie and the spearmen all swung their weapons and kept their feet. Streak had jumped to a different bridge and Shapeshifted, apparently no idea what to do.
Mason could relate. But until he came up with a better plan, he intended to go between bridges and slaughter everything in the prison cells. Maybe then that shield would go down, and they could silence that fucking demon for good.