Winter's Blade - Cover

Winter's Blade

Copyright© 2007 by Imagineer

Chapter 13: Unleash

Emmeline felt the panicked chill of sudden despair. This was a nightmare made real.

Granddad had made it here after all, but the beast had beaten her so quickly that he'd had to face it without her, and he'd managed to get it bound, but now the bindings were failing and she didn't know what to do and Granddad wasn't moving and there was so much blood...

Alex still had her arm over his shoulders; he pulled her forward. "Come on, Em, we've gotta go."
He was right; all they could do now was run.

Em pulled her arm free; they could go faster if she was on her own. She steadied herself against the back wall, half-running, half-staggering toward the elevators. She felt Alex right behind her, his hand on her shoulder...

... and she felt the ground shake and heard the heavy Brrump! Brrump! of the beast's long strides...

... and a hollow Whump! and Alex's hand was gone.

Emmeline whirled around to see the beast looming behind her, its torso turned and its long arm extended across its body, and Alex hurtling through the air, coming down in the middle of the lobby and rolling like a poorly-skipped stone, finally sliding to a stop near the front glass doors.

The beast snorted, stepping forward, its upper body winding back around, the other three-clawed hand raised for a killing blow. Emmeline stood transfixed with terror. The claws whipped down, changing angle just before they reached her, whooshing by with such force that her hair spilled forward. Emmeline stumbled backwards, her hand feeling behind her for the wall, staying close to it as the beast straightened up and took a mighty swipe with its right hand, coming up even shorter.

As the beast's chest expanded and air sucked in through its shovel-edged mouth, Emmeline heard a sharp Crack! from across the lobby. Her eyes darted toward the far corner, past her still-unmoving Granddad; she saw the end of the beast's sole restraining cord quiver with tension. The beast let loose a furious roar, a thunderous shrieking tidal wave of noise crashing down around her; its upper body lunged forward, its sweeping claw of death coming a little closer this time. Em heard a faint shouting; Alex was saying something about binding -- but she didn't know how to do that! She glanced back to the bloody end of the cord and saw it slide and pop, and the beast loomed a little larger...
Emmeline's heartbeat tumbled over the sound of distant crashing surf; her widening eyes darted from Alex to the hulking monster and back to Alex; he was laid out on the floor, his arm thrusting savagely, silently screaming for her to Run Em, Run...

Emmeline turned and ran, springing over a crumpled elevator door, bouncing off the call button, diving for the small brass handle on the stubby square door, her lead foot skidding and stopping her as she yanked the panel open. The beast careened after her, its foot planting on the elevator door and sliding out from under it, bowling it over on its opposite shoulder; the beast slammed up against the wall, scrambling both to right itself and to reach for its fleeing prey.

Emmeline dove head-first into the dark hole in the wall, somersaulting into a leap against an unfinished concrete wall. The space got suddenly brighter as the access panel was ripped away; the building trembled as the beast slammed itself against the opposite wall, its rippling stone-skinned arm reaching through the hole, clawing and probing, stretching toward her as she flattened herself, then waving wildly about the space, banging pipes overhead, shredding and sparking wires to one side. The massive appendage withdrew, and Emmeline dove to her right. There was a narrow tunnel, just tall enough for her to stand, lined overhead with utility bulbs, leading two hundred feet or so toward the back of the building; she could just make out the red EXIT sign amid the cluster of conduits at the far end.

She felt a blast of hot wind from behind; she looked over her shoulder to see the beast's plow-shaped head poked through the open hatch, its black soulless eyes filled with contempt...

"You are weak ... Death will thrive..."

 

Alex knew he had to run. He had to get to the car, get around to the other side of the building before the beast did...
... but when his shoulder hit the glass door, it did not move.
Alex bounced off the door, falling to the floor in a confused heap. He looked up -- a magnetic lock. How could it be locked? Had the old man done it? Were they time locks? Was there a release somewhere? Alex kicked madly, again and again; the door came off its lower hinge, but the magnet above held it in place. He looked around frantically for anything that could help -- the machete was just a few feet away. He grabbed it -- maybe he could reach the magnets with the blade, use it to--

Alex fell still when he noticed the beast's shadowy reflection growing in the glass.

He suddenly thought of "Aliens," and the way Bishop got torn in half.
Alex really didn't want to be Bishop.

He turned around ... and the beast shrank back slightly, favoring its right side, where the second spear had been. Alex noticed it was missing a finger, and both its arms had black tarry scars. And it seemed to be eyeing ... the machete.

Its voice rumbled through him.

"Not Winter ... blood weak..."

And yet it seemed ... nervous.

Alex raised the machete, and noticed the beast's eyes followed it. He looked at the blade; it was coated with sand-thickened blood. Maybe Alex wasn't a Winter, but ... this was a Winter's blade, brought by a Winter's hand, and ... something about blood...

He was going to die anyway. Maybe he could buy Emmeline enough time to get away.
... Bishop was a hero, wasn't he?

Alex's face hardened. Maybe if he had to die, he could take a piece of this fucker with him.

Alex extended the machete in front of him; the bloody blade gleamed in the halogen light.
Maybe he wasn't Bishop.

Alex Hayden stared into the beast's pitch-black orbs, seeing in them the end of all things. He pointed the tip of the machete at the beast's chest, stood up as tall and broad as he could, and belted out the bravest and most defiant thing he could think of.

"YOU ... SHALL NOT ... PA-"

With a mighty swat, the beast sent the machete flying. The beast's torso wound up with frightening speed. Its huge arm whipped around, backhanding Alex into the door, breaking it loose and sending him hurtling through the air into the cold night.

 

The beast took a slow, deep breath, its shoulders rising and widening; it exhaled with a low grumble like a distant thunderstorm. It stepped toward the open doorway...

... but its left shoulder was held up short. The beast leaned back a bit and then shrugged forward; still the left shoulder hitched.

The beast looked over its shoulder in puzzlement, turning back slowly, sidestepping in the direction of the unexpectedly-taut line, watching it droop; a curious claw reached up to meet the relaxing line, plucking it, as its eyes followed the line's path toward the back of the lobby...

Emmeline Winter stood, axe in one hand, the other raised in front of her; across her open palm, a shallow cut glistened bright crimson. "By Winter's hand the blade is brought..."

She made a tight fist; blood dripped steadily, adding to the small puddle already on the floor.
The end of the spear line ran right across it.

"It is our blood that binds."

The beast snorted disgust and disbelief. "Who are you ... to still defy me..."

The axe rose, its blood-smeared blade glinting in the light. The young woman's eyes blazed with righteous fury.

"My name is Emmeline Winter. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

 

The beast charged -- and Em ran straight at it, axe held high. The beast's eyes remained locked on the deadly blade as it cocked its massive left arm back; by its fourth long stride it was almost upon her, and the huge clawed hand whipped around...

Emmeline ducked into a feet-first slide, slipping suddenly underneath the beast, wielding the axe with a roundhouse swing at the creature's leg. The blade tore through the back of the limb, coming out the other side with a gooey plop. The beast crumpled to the floor, skidding face-down a dozen feet across the granite, its right leg trailing blackish syrup.

Em got to her feet, the axe back to one hand now, choking up on the handle, wiping the blade on her coat; the black stuff was already the consistency of wet sand, crumbling off the ornate steel. She glanced quickly right, then left; she was about halfway between the two thick round granite pillars that punctuated the otherwise empty space. Her grandfather still lay motionless beyond the right pillar; Em started moving toward the left.

The beast pushed itself to its feet, but as it turned to face Em it limped badly. Its angry roar betrayed no fear, but its pain was obvious.

"There's more where that came from," Em taunted. She could see the pillar in her peripheral vision now...

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