28(S3E2)- Things Get Bad

28
(Season 3, Episode 2)
Things Get Bad

2 days before the instant

“What the fuck are you doing?”  The rage was obvious in Scott’s voice.  Even if it wasn’t, he reserved his swear words for proper times since he never really sounded right saying.

“Well, this is awkward.”  Zach muttered slowly, pulling himself to his feet.

“What the hell, Zach?  I know you were depressed, but trying to gas yourself on your birthday?” Scott was flabbergasted at his best friend since fifth grade.  God love the guy, he had never considered this as an option for Zach.  He was hurt, confused and disappointed.

The disappointment would be in himself.  He would blame himself for not seeing the signs, not getting to his friend earlier.  Zach hated that about him.  To Scott, when things went wrong it was always his fault, always his responsibility to save the day.

Zachariah internally groaned… Heroes.

Zachariah was saved the conversation however as destiny seemed to have more for him then drifting off into the sweet blackness that would be death.  Mel stepped into the open doorway behind Scott.  He was accompanied by a man that Zachariah had never met.  The man wore a long, brown trench coat and had long, jet-black hair which was restrained in a loose ponytail.  He was young, in his twenties, and he held a strange gun in his right hand.  It bared resemblance to an old-timey musket pistol, but it was longer and had strange red markings all over its barrel and stock.

Zachariah looked confused as they laid eyes on him.  Scott turned and saw the two, as well, and looked just as befuddled.  Zachariah felt the hand of panic wash over him as he realized his real life was colliding with his magical one.

The panic also stemmed from a knowledge that whenever the dwarf spell-caster showed up in his life, bad things happened.  Mel only heralded heartache and pain.

“Bevan, do it now!”  Mel yelled and the gun wielder stepped into the room and raised the gun at Zachariah.

Zachariah could only stand there bewildered as the barrel raised to look him in the eye.  Scott, on the other hand, was a warrior.  His instincts kicked in and he moved, stepping in with a quick snap kick to the man called Bevan’s gun hand.  The blow struck his wrist and sent his gun spinning into the living room.

“Hey!” Bevan said, frustrated.  He had no idea that the factory worker/martial artist was far from done as Scott used the momentum of the first kick to step in on the intruder and spin into him, driving his foot up into the man’s chest with an Earth shattering kick.

Bevan was launched backward as if rocket propelled, through the air over Mel’s head and into the hallway.

Scott got into fighting stance, preparing for the next attack.  No amount of preparation could have readied him for the small Nex to utter a couple of words that sounded like gibberish before a bolt of light arced from his hand and into Scott’s torso.  The energized attack sent him backward into the drywall, his body denting it before he dropped to the floor.

Anyone else would have passed out.  Scott did not.  This was not a testament to his skill or endurance, but more a show of how damned stubborn he was.  He tried to will his body parts to move, but they were not having it.

“Jesus Christ, stop!”  Zachariah yelled.

Mel turned.  “Who the hell is this guy?!”

“He’s my friend, Scott!  What the hell are you doing?!” Zachariah pleaded, angrily itching at his bite covered arm.

Mel looked indignant as his partner picked himself up in the hallway.  “Well, he attacked us first!”

“You guys were trying to shoot me.”  Zachariah rebutted.

This seemed to jog Mel’s memory.  “Oh shit, that’s right.  Bevan!”

Bevan had pulled himself together and moved through the doorway into the hallway after his gun.

Zachariah scratched harder. “What the hell are you doing?”

Suddenly, Mel’s face lost all color.  “Oh God, it’s too late.”

Zachariah followed Mel’s eyes and looked down at his arm.  A small red beetle seemed to pull itself out of the itchy bump on his arm and Zachariah felt himself wretch.  The itching grew worse and worse all over his body and he watched himself in horror as another small bed bug pulled itself free of his skin. Strangely, there was no blood as the phenomenon continued to pick up pace.  Bug after bug pulled themselves out of Zachariah’s flesh.

The sensation of itching had become overwhelming, almost numbing.  It was as if his whole body was consumed in a white hot fire.  It lasted for what felt like an eternity before stopping as quickly as it had begun.  He felt himself slip into unconscious, but as he did, the last thing he saw seemed to be the bugs swarming into the middle of the room and seemingly becoming a man.

10 years after the instant

The killer shook off his daze and grabbed the key.  He knew they would be coming.

The ninja.

Mel had made them his personal guard after the death of his father, bringing them back to Avalon.  The community had been skeptical at this decision, but Mel was an important member of the council and no one wanted to argue with his decree.

It had all worked to the killer’s advantage.  By that time he had already been one of the ninja for two years, having learned both their magic and their secrets.  They had become his friends, some more than others, but in the end it had all just been a means to an end.

He had to keep telling himself that, it was the only way to justify his betrayal to the clan, to his family, and to her.

He placed the key into his long black trench coat and then pulled the black mask back over his scarred face.  The killer then moved out of Mel’s room and into the hallways that laced the giant castle city.  He needed to get to one of the edges, he had prepared for his exit.

“Stop!” He heard as he wheeled to see two ninja appear out of the shadows and charge.

More bodies, more death.  The killer hated himself already.

As the two approached, he drew his sword with one quick motion and stepped forward with a quick and precise cut.  A string of blood hovered in the air for a moment before the ninja’s body lurched and fell forward, crashing to the floor.

The other ninja stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, only now realizing what he was up against. “It’s you…  The traitor!”

The ninja stood for a second in shock and looked at his past-tense friend who now lay on the floor, a pool of his black blood forming under him.

The killer turned and ran.  He flicked the blood from his blade and sheathed it in one step as he, again, took off in the direction of the castles edge.  That ninja would return and he would bring friends...

…He would bring her.

He hit the stairs and ascended at high speed.  He could almost feel the others giving chase.  They would use their ninja magic to come fast.  He only had seconds.

He slammed into the trap door and it popped open.  He was on the outer wall of the floating city of magic.  The killer moved to the edge and could see the clouds below him.  In the distance, the sun was beginning to rise and was spreading its orange hue over everything.

Young light.  It was new and full of hope.  The killer, for a second, remembered his lost family, and his alienated friends.  Could he ever really get back there?

“That’s enough, Scott.”  Her voice was soft but stern and full of intent.  The killer had always her voice was what a coiled snake would sound like if it could talk.

“Not yet.”  He said without turning to face her.  He didn’t need to.  After all, it was she who had trained him in the arts of Ninjitsu and taught him to sense his enemies, which is why he already knew that there were seven of them; seven and Kahn.

Kahn, the coiled snake.  Kahn, the fierce protector.  Kahn, the only friend.  Kahn, the worst enemy.

“You have killed so many of us, how much blood must be spilled?”  She asked as she looked for an opening.  Her dutiful soldiers began to flank the killer, thinking he had nowhere left to go.

They were wrong.  “All of it…  And none of it.”

The killer leapt over the side of the castle making himself as thin as he could as he went for the clouds. Kahn stepped to the edge and hurled stars, which cut the air.  One caught the killer in the back of the shoulder.  He gritted his teeth and hit the cloud coverage.

Safety, at least from his pursuers.  The wind raced past him as he approached terminal velocity.  He broke the cloud coverage and, miles below, he saw the Canadian wilderness where it had all started.  He reached into his coat and grabbed the feather-fall amulet that he had taken from the rogue Nex known as Quintalo.

He invoked the amulet’s powers by opening his palm with the edge of his sword and touching his blood to the artifact.  A light glowed and he began to float, as if he weighed no more than a blade of grass.  He floated in that moment of peace and watched the sun finish rising.  He watched the light age in front of him and knew they would never be the same.

The point of no return had been passed long ago.  The real question, the killer asked himself, was if he ever really had a choice.

****

Kahn felt a deep sadness when she returned to the office.  Mel had been her friend for many years and the reason her clan had been allowed to return to Avalon.  Now he was dead, extinguished by a mind filled with madness.

Kahn walked to his old friend and closed his eyelids.  “Nokori.”

She then looked at the open wall and the bare pedestal.  “The key.”

“What was in there?”  One of her lieutenants asked from behind her.

“Doomsday.”  She answered, emotionlessly.  “Gather the clan, the killer will be brought to justice.”

This is just downright depressing!  How will Zach and Scott deal with the bed bug monster that came out of him?  Are Mel and his partner actually there to kill Zachariah?  What is future Scott’s deal?!

NEXT TIME!

Stranger Things; Zachariah’s Death

TO BE CONTINUED!