Chapter 3
Jeremiah 17:14
Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise.
Tobias's Journal:
After the morning meal was finished, we would begin with exercise. We would do mainly strength and endurance training as well as some weight lifting, but this was decades before free weights were available. I would move 50 lb sacks of rocks from one end of the yard to the other, once in the morning and again in the evening. The number of sacks in the pile would come to grow more and more. As would the number of sacks I would carry at a time. Then, once we were done with the warm up we would move to unarmed combat. Never a good idea going up against most of what we would fight, however learning to break contact or subdue an opponent is always a good skill to have. We would train in unarmed combat most of the morning then take a break. Once my wounds had been seen to with salves, herbal compresses and bandages, we would move onto the more formal portion of training. Simon would lecture and quiz about the different creatures and mythology of the beasts of the night. The order had several anatomical drawings of the more common creatures to study while in class. Occasionally, a member would stop by with a corpse of something they had killed and allow me to examine it, if they were close enough to get it here before it rotted completely. I also learned how to read and write, and not just the English that I already spoke. Learning a second language was of paramount importance and I quickly learned Latin, which helped immensely with allowing my own research into the archives. After several months we would speak whatever language I was learning exclusively during my training. I went on to learn French, Dutch, German, Russian, and Italian. Languages I have maintained to this day, because language can drastically evolve and change over time. Especially when dealing with a broad section of the general public. Not to mention regional slang. The first time I was told to “Hang loose” I swore I was being insulted, and the man wanted me to hang…
As the years went by, my fluency with languages progressed as did the unarmed combat training. We eventually began to move to armed combat. This was a few years into my training and I had learned a few things about the members of the order. I had spent long hours in the archives, at first annoying Philip, the archivist to no end. Then he started to see my earnest enthusiasm to learn more and I was slowly taken under his wing to some extent. After reading several after action reports, at first to get a better understanding and supplement the classroom knowledge with real world experience, I started to realize a few things. Many of the names on the reports were from men I had met at the compound, and the dates on the paperwork… There were many from Simon in a language I Couldn't read but the first one I could read in Latin was from several hundred years ago. They also mentioned crippling wounds that my master did not possess. At first I thought the names may be titles and the names taken up by each successive member but then I read an account, from over a hundred years before, from Simon that we had talked about in great detail in the classroom. Going into the battle in MUCH greater detail than was outlined in the report. Not to mention, when talking about it, you could feel his emotions… This WAS the same man… But how? I had my own thoughts and ideas about this, but was finally brought into the fold on this mystery one day in training. We had been using edged weapons for some time at this point. Training consisted of me with a live blade, of whatever sort we were training with that day, and Simon with a wooden replica. I was instructed not to hold back, and to attack to maim. At first, I made the mistake of holding back but was quickly shown the error of my thinking. Even at my best with a real and sharp blade, I couldn't come close to Simon.
Tobias Present day.
My vision doubled then blurred and started fading in and out. I could hear Hollis as if from underwater talking to himself, something about “upstart punks” and “the audacity to even try”. Basically at this point, my neck finally popped back in proper alignment. Followed by an electrical surge like hitting your funny bone, but head to toe and pulsing like being hit by a cattle prod. I've been shot, stabbed, and taken apart in a multitude of different ways, but nerve damage is always a bitch! I tried to lay there still while my nerves sang a song of sorrow up and down my body. The implant in my chest, a cross made from the original 30 pieces of silver, stopped me from aging and allows me to heal at an amazing rate. Making members of The Order REALLY difficult, if not impossible to permanently kill. I could feel the weight leave my chest as the night gaunt followed Hollis back over to the altar. Hollis continued to mutter insults about me, but I was back in the game. It was odd to think that although he took the time to kick the gun away, he didn't bother to take the push dagger. Why bother disarming the dead right? You would think a necromancer would know better… Slowly, as to not make a sound, I sat up and took a crouching position. The night gaunt and Hollis were almost back to the altar. I leapt from a crouch and landed on the Night Gaunt, the push dagger sank deeply into what served as a heart as the blade entered to the right of his spine angled to center mass. As soon as the skin started to turn into tar, Hollis felt the psychic link between the two break. The necromancer turned and with a primal yell hit me with a full body check to my ribs. I folded around him like a rag doll. The push dagger went spinning off into the darkness as we landed. Hollis landed on top of me and started to rain down punches to my face. “I am a God of death, if you wont die I will just have to be a bit more creative with things” Hollis yelled as my skull bounced off the ground below me. “I am a master, I have spent YEARS learning the dark arts, and I WILL NOT be bested by some upstart punk like you”. Hollis bellowed as spittle flew into my face. Upstart punk? I'm older than him! Forget this, it's time to end this quick. As Hollis threw another right I grabbed his wrist with my left hand and using his momentum pulled his body down and threw my right elbow across the bridge of his nose with a satisfying crunch. I followed up the elbow across his nose by throwing a ridge hand into his right jugular. Bleeding and dazed slightly I shoved him off my chest with both hands. I kipped up onto my feet and took a second to blow blood out of each nostril so I could breathe easier while my nose healed. Hollis began to slowly get to his hands and knees, so I punted the Necromancer in the ribs. Launching him right into the construction lights. The water from the fire sprinklers continued to wash over me, the blood mixing into the puddles on the floor and making the painted concrete slightly slick. Hollis crashed into the construction lights and landed with a grunt and a clatter of metal on concrete. Getting up slowly, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his focus. I found out later that this one was a small pouch of powdered infant bone, vamp teeth and grave dirt. The next thing I knew Hollis blinked out of existence before stepping out of the shadow behind me.
Shit, he can shadow walk, that explained why tracking him had been so difficult. Pain blossomed into my side as his ceremonial dagger went into my right kidney. I fell on my hands and knees as the blade slid out. Hollis followed me as I crawled across the ground, stabbing into my back fiercely, pausing, twisting, then removing the blade over and over again. Running out of options and knowing he could just shadow walk out of here and disappear at any point I decided to take drastic measures. Knowing I would have to time things perfectly I stopped crawling and waited for him to stick the blade in again. I grabbed the extension cord in one hand and acted like it had tangled there as I crawled. As soon as the blade punched into my back I brought the extension cord to my mouth and bit through the insulation and deep into the copper wiring. Pain exploded through my body as every muscle clinched before everything went dark...
I slowly rolled over in the puddling water, smelling burnt insulation, bacon and burnt hair. I looked across to see Hollis on the ground, his body was still slightly smoking. The dagger was reduced to melted slag in his ruined hand. Getting up slowly, trying to stand, I stumbled over to the corner where I vaguely remember Hollis kicking my gun. Dying, or well not dying but being fatally wounded, twice in less than 30 minutes is a bit disorienting. I still had the taste of copper in my mouth and my teeth were singing like I'd been chewing on tinfoil. Consciousness started to pulse into my brain and slowly I started to feel normal again. All of this happens in a matter of 10 to 15 seconds but the pain is all still there even if the wounds are healing fast enough. I managed to find my 2011 and walked over, shooting Hollis’s lifeless corpse in the face five times, effectively decapitating him. You can never be too careful with necromancers. The girls, that's right, Ok...
I knew they still needed to get out of here and far away from all of this. I tried to holster my 2011 and realized all the spare mags had blown up, primers and powder cooking off in a chain reaction when the electricity hit me like a sledgehammer... All that was left on the belt is the steel anchor points and a few chunks of melted plastic. Dammit, that hurt... Okay the girls… Yeah okay, still need to get them to safety. I walked over and propped the front door open before doing the same at the dividing door, then the back door before walking out to my jeep. Hopefully the breeze will get some of the stink out of the building. Opening the back hatch, I rummaged through and grabbed a few blankets, a tracking puck, and a set of bolt cutters. I walked back into the horrid pink building and grabbed what I could salvage of my gear. I paused for a moment to activate it, then tossed the tracking puck into a corner. I don’t have to worry about the mess anymore, a local cleaning crew would dispose of whatever didn’t dissolve. A clean up team from The Order, working with the local catholic Church would be notified by the puck activation to come this way. After wrapping both unconscious girls in blankets and cutting the shackles off the wrists and ankles of the girl on the altar, I got them settled in a side room away from all the mess. They were both still unconscious, heavily drugged but the pulse on both girls was still strong. Hollis probably didn’t want to deal with the screaming and begging from his victims. I imagine that would grade on even the darkest of souls. Hopefully they would be fine. A Medical team would show up with the cleaning crew and I know they will be well taken care of. Not to mention, I'm not necessarily that good with calming victims and trying to explain things. The longer I live this life and the solitary existence it requires, the less I feel like I connect on an emotional level with people. Perhaps that's the reason for The Orders vow of celibacy? That I've refused to take… O well.
“Hello Simon, It's finished here in Sarasota. I will drive home, then come to give a report”. I said into the cell phone blue-tooth earpiece while driving the few blocks south back to the hotel. “Was the case truly that serious? You want to come in person to give a simple after action report?” Asked an incredulous Simon. “No, The Necromancer is finished and that was relatively straight forward. Hollis will not be taking any more girls and The Rite of Tikal will no longer be practiced”. I paused and let out a deep sigh. “However I have uncovered the meaning of the symbol that keeps popping up and... It's complicated”... I said trailing off. “You sound distressed my son, rest and I will see you soon”. Simon said, hanging up the phone.
After getting to the hotel and cleaning up in the shower I tossed another tracking puck onto the bed. The Orders cleaners were just down the road and they would make sure the room was cleaned of anything that may raise an alarm with the checkout staff. Obfuscation charms work great but blood soaked clothing and washcloths tend to raise eyebrows in even the cheapest motels. Not that fingerprints or DNA would get anyone anywhere but still, we all try to stay vigilant. I took one last look through my room and made sure anything that could be recovered was packed up and ready to go with me. Leaving the key on the nightstand and the door unlocked I got into my Jeep and headed home. On the 90 mile drive home up I-75 and across I-4 my brain wandered to the strange DP sign and what the fallen had said about it. Dark pope... So someone, or something is claiming to be the Pope for evil. Calling the darkness and several other evil beings to his side. Most of The Fallen are far from weak. I couldn’t really see them or any of the other things Tkawl said have joined sides serving anyone but themselves, yet alone working together.