Tome: When the Night Falls
Chapter 8
He watched with great intent as the Bio-Mechanical leapt up
onto Grosse Mann’s body and started tearing at the cameras on Grosse Mann’s
head.
Then he started
screaming to get the Bio-Mechanical off but it was too late to order as both
cameras were ripped forcefully from Grosse Mann’s head. The screen went black
and the man slammed an angered fist down on the machines. Their spirits
shivered in fear shown by the short lapse in the lights that flickered as he
drew their energy in clumsily in his anger.
Raising himself up he
cast the energy back into the lights and walked out of the room, pushing past
the scientists and other Cult of Mechanics operatives.
“Where was that,” he
asked one of them as he walked quickly down the corridor.
“The same place that
we replace the Clockwork Watchman, Sir,” the man answered quickly.
“We’re going there,
now. I don’t want to miss anymore of this… experiment…”
the man grumbled as he continued to walk heedless of the man’s warnings:
“Is that truly wise? Do you really think you should go right to the heart of
where death itself lies?” the man asked.
He turned around and
stomped back up the corridor, “Do not question my movements if you truly value
your job here…” he hissed in the man’s ear before turning and walking back down
the way he had come.
The man sighed and
said to himself, “Thing is… I don’t value my job here…” he looked fondly at the
hand that he had tinkered with all of his life to replace the other that he had
lost.
All of his life had
been poured into making his standard of living better but now he doubted how
many years he would have left to enjoy that standard of living he had given
himself. He dragged the cold steel of the hand down his wizened, wrinkled cheek
before turning to return to the lab. His tired eyes drooped and frowned almost
as much as his lips. His hair fell in long, silvery drags across his head,
dirty and unwashed for weeks after all of the work that he had been forced to
do.
“So many sleepless
nights…” Professor Archibald Scarlet Currie drawled taking his spectacles off
and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Are you alright,
Sir?” one of the Cult of Mechanics advisors asked and Archibald turned round to
face him.
“I’ve spent over
one-hundred years perfecting my body with near perfect Bio-Mechanical implants,
spent fifty of those bossing these people around… do want to hazard a guess at
whether or not I’m “alright”?”
Professor Currie grumbled before setting himself down in his brown leather
office chair and spinning himself around and wheeling himself over to the
scientists at his command.
“We’ve lost cameras
but have we lost anything else?” Archibald asked.
Many voices answered
in answer, “Connection lost momentarily
but we’ve fixed it, Power to all limbs are on full but we can’t seem to get it so stand upright yet, Brain activity is normal and it is speaking
with its enemies… what it is saying
we don’t know however…”
“That would be interesting to know what the beast was saying…”
Archibald thought to himself before his world became a bluster of orders being
received and orders being issued again.
Death raised an arm
and felt the searing heat of the Haloed energies burn against his bone. Had he
not lost the ability to scream in pain so long ago, he would be. Instead he
clenched his top and bottom jaw tight together and brought another arm up and
let his fist power its way into Grosse Mann’s stomach. Grosse Mann doubled over
and Death grabbed two of the pipes on his back and flung the monster across the
room and into the wall, dashing against the soil hill as it did so, sending
dust and dirt flailing into the air.
Number 47 crawled
away, kicking at the ground to force himself out of the sprawling monster’s
path. Tiberius had different plans holding his axe up, silently and resolute
and letting its blade cut through Grosse Mann’s shoulder. When the two bodies
made contact something amazing happened.
Time stopped as the
Paladin noticed this for only the few seconds that his blade passed quickly
through Grosse Mann’s shadow suit and skin. The Haloed energy now in his veins
reacted with his axe as if it was stealing
Grosse Mann’s new found energies. At the same time, he watched as the blade
began to crack and splinter as the light energy it took in was too much, it
passed down the Paladin’s armour, through his feet and burned him right to the
very soul. It stole his life, his blue, cold eyes flickering out for a second
as he died away then Grosse Man carried on flying past him.
Only the simplest of
niches had caused such a great power surge. So what would a proper wound do?
Dead Weight burst
into the room and punched the first man that barrelled towards him then kicked
the next in the groin sending him to the floor with another balled fist to the
head.
The man flew
backwards and landed.
There were no more adversaries…
Dead Weight walked
into the room, skirting the fallen bodies and looking through the things on the
desk. The first thing that he stole was a spare bandana. Dead Weight tied it
around his face and slipped on an extra pair of glasses. Noble Alliance
Dead Weight grabbed the
handle and felt the burning over his palm.
“That damn Paladin…” Dead Weight cursed loudly and looked at the
blade again. It twinkled slightly, it shouldn’t have done that. This was a
curse of light magic placed over the blade. It was a simple charm. One that
Dead Weight could break with his eyes closed…
Dead Weight placed
his hand tentatively on the blade and forced his Necromancy through it. The
energy poured into and under the light and blew it apart like glass. Shards of
it soared through the air and passed Dead Weight.
Picking up the sword
and stroking its blade lovingly, he placed it back into the scabbard on his
back and walked out of the room. Kitted up again, he continued carefully down
the corridors seeing quite how empty it was.
Then Death was thrown
through the metal walls in front of him. In his fright he threw himself
backwards avoiding the bulk of Death’s body as he crash landed against the wall
in the corridor he was walking down.
Looking up he saw
Death look at Dead Weight for a second before a wiry spindly hand came in and
grasped Death’s collar bone and dragged him back out again. Dead Weight drew
his sword and looked carefully around the corner. There he saw Death and Grosse
Mann fighting against each other in a truly titanic battle. Huge bolts of
magical energy were being thrown across the room at the other and dodged. Those
that did hit exploded with a huge energy blast that rattled Death’s frail
skeleton and started Grosse Mann’s dead heart.
Dead Weight bolted
across the killing grounds slashing his way past hostile soldiers of which
there were few left and by the time Dead Weight had made it to the bullet
encrusted soil hill there were none left. Diving over the barricade, Dead
Weight landed beside the wounded Paladin and Number 47. Both parties looked at
each other suspiciously.
“Now we can kill each
other or we can save our own lives and fight them,” Dead Weight bargained.
Both continued to
look suspiciously at each other before Tiberius said, “I will not be forced to
shake hands with the Necromancer.”
Number 47 nodded and
then looked at Dead Weight again, “Agreed.” Although still nobody shook hands
on the deal and throughout it all, each gave the other suspicious and
suspecting looks…
Death was taking a
proper beating from Grosse Mann but for every seven hits that it took the
sluggish Grosse Mann to land a wounding blow, all it took was one great slash
of Death’s scythe and Grosse Mann was staggering backwards.
Then the final blow
came, and it wasn’t Death that landed it…
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