Fan Fiction ❯ Frailty ❯ Black and Blue ( Chapter 11 )

"Frailty"

Chapter eleven- "Black and Blue"

Disclaimer/Author's note

An enemy from the game, "Serious Sam-The Final Encounter" is going to have a mild cameo in this chapter. It has nothing to due with TT, however, upon looking at it, you would swear that it came from Azarath (For all that one hears of it)

That being said, the Kleer is the sole property of Global Star software and I am making no claims to, much less am I profiting off of, it.

And please, don't fret, I found a way to logically include it.

-Fic start-

…But Harvey Alding couldn't do this. His morality as a soldier tugged at his mind without cessation. Despite leaving Raven with a small arsenal and cleared of the prison's confines, the fact that he had left her at all was easily outweighing everything he had done to justify his actions.

"Ends justify the means my ass…" He mumbled while frowning down at the Uzi in his holster; the only weapon remaining.

Having gone through a dysfunctional marriage, rocky divorce, and completely giving up on his child, Alding was no rookie to the ominous sensation of guilt, much less regret. It was this familiarity that kept him steady venturing toward the light-house; more namely, a small communications office next to it. His only real plan was to keep things in check.

His emotions had screwed him quite royally in the past, and odds were, they'd do it again if he let them.

The Corrections Officer sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes, finding them to be rather weary. With slightly blurred vision, he gazed up from the palm of his hand to see the light-house's shadowed, towering form, and just as promptly noticed something different about the piercing spotlight positioned at the very top.

"…The Hell?" He muttered while peering toward the steadily flickering luminescence. Harvey clued in that something was wrong when the light suddenly died. A contortion of despair and intrigue controlling his legs, he sprinted the remaining distance to the office.

The front door of the small, one-room building was completely ajar, and even from a twenty yard distance, a voice, consumed by garbled static could be easily be heard. Ironically, as Harvey cleared the threshold, he caught the transmission directly at it's beginning, "Coast guard Prometheus to Carnate Island, Carnate Island, do you read?"

Hastily seizing the megaphone, Alding jerked it to his mouth and replied in a breathless voice, "Coast guard Prometheus, this is Corrections Officer Harvey Alding, I read you loud and clear. What's your status?"

There was a brief pause, occupied by static, before the coast-guard replied, "We're about a hundred to two hundred yards off-shore, but the spot-light just died. In order for us to land, the spot-light has to be operational and fully rotating."

"No shit…" Harvey grumbled to himself before sending the actual transmission, "I'm aware of the light-house's condition, Prometheus, but I'm not sure what caused it, can you advise?"

The coast guard on the other end could almost be heard gathering his thoughts before answering, "Judging from the series of flickers, it was probably from generator-failure. You might want to look into that."

"I'll do just that, Prometheus, and radio you when I'm finished." Harvey dropped the megaphone and started for the door, ignoring the return from Prometheus, "Alright, Coast Guard Prometheus is on stand-by till further notice."

"Generator-failure at the last damn second…" The officer murmured to himself while extracting the Uzi from it's holster. "Gee, luck be a lady tonight…" He added sarcastically, chuckling thereafter.

A path that forked in three different directions stemmed from the light house's entrance, two of which stretched into the communications building, and the center of Carnate. The third trail, therefore, was rationally assumed to lead toward the generator. Such a guess was supported by a thick black pipe, wound in numerous cables, that begun at the base of the tower and followed alongside the said path, which cleared a short-lived field before vanishing into the dark midst of a thicket.

Thin clouds of dust unsettled from the old trail as the soles of Harvey's boots traipsed across it's surface. Tall grass that forested the neighboring field whipped at his calves before getting crushed underfoot. Rising high above the nearly waist-length weeds in numerous numbers were a collection of crude stakes that dotted the field. Shining his flashlight over each of them, one in particular caught Harvey's attention. Positioned in a circled area of dirt , the stake stood at a rough nine foot height and possessed a mound of large rocks at the base.

The corrections officer arched an eyebrow in mild interest.

"…What the Hell would we need all of these for?"

He begun to lapse into the field to acquire a closer look, but was stopped short by a young, feminine voice. Though easily in close proximity, the exact whereabouts were unknown.

"Silly grown-ups…"

Harvey spun on his heel and swung the flashlight around him, coming up empty till it's luminescence hit the entrance of the thicket.

Standing at the foot of the yawning gap were two small girls, mirror images of each other in every conceivable way. A faded pink dress, looking to have descended directly from the early nineteenth century, concealed most of their pallid skin, leaving it open only at the face.

A crown of silky black hair that's bangs veiled the eyes cascaded down to the mid-back and, despite there being occasional gusts of wind, never once unsettled. Grasped in each girl's hand was a doll, entirely comprised of straw.

"Always asking questions that have scary answers." One of them picked back up.

"If you really want to know…" Her twin continued for her, "You should follow us, but you won't like what you find…"

In unison, both girls turned and started down the wood-trail, however only one's grip around her doll loosened.

Upon the small toy's collision with the ground, it erupted into a colossal explosion, leaving a large fire as a momento. Harvey stumbled in reverse and hit the ground with a dull wunt.

Struggling to lift himself with his only arm, he gazed into the swirling torrent.

"What…the…" His lungs failed him briefly, "What the Hell?"

-Raven-

A frail breeze swept over the smoldering remains of the mines, blowing several strands of amethyst hair into Raven's face. For a solemn instant, the only sound present was that of trees, their branches tussled by the mild gusts of wind. Brushing the stray hairs from her eyes, the telekinetic gazed into the near mountain-sized accumulation of busted timer and dirt that lay a mere hundred yard distance away from her.

The full gauge of the single dynamite's power had displayed itself sheer minutes after erupting. The entire island was seemingly jostled in it's wake, easily slinging Raven to the dirt-ridden ground. Subsequently, the aged support beams that had held the tunnel together gave a sigh before collapsing, causing it, and roughly a quarter of the entire network, to come avalanching to the earth. Raven did not stand immediately thereafter. Accounting all of the injuries she had gained, a small tumble to the ground was much like getting struck by a compact car.

A sharp pain that had surfaced from all of her running through the mines jabbed at her sliced calve, and a bruise between the shoulder blades, gained by the numerous falls, pulsated dully and, in some mysterious manner, begun to birth a headache.

Gritting her teeth, the sorceress cradled her head in both hands and attempted to meditate, hoping that such an exercise would regain some of her powers which, for the longest time, had been completely dormant.

The desired effect was anything but received. Instead, something, the likes of which depth perception revealed to be a small, round object, forcefully struck her in the back of the head.

"OW!" Raven groaned . Whilst gingerly rubbing the effected area, she climbed to her feet as quickly as her generally sore body would allow, and whirled into the direction of the offensive projectile. The path she stood on, surrounded by thickets on both sides, stretched before her a rough twenty foot distance before breaking to both the left and right. Positioned at the corner of the path and it's lead to the right was, what she could have only assumed to be, a payphone. Set on a crudely fashioned pole, the base was cracked at the front and side, and the line that connected it to the actual phone was snapped, rendering it useless.

…And this was the only thing out of the ordinary. Nothing that was capable of even breathing, much less throwing, lay within her immediate sight.

Only becoming more baffled, Raven's head dropped to the ground, revealing that her culprit was a small stone. Before readjusting her gaze, something caught her eye.

Kneeling down, she retrieved the rock and, turning it over, found a small slip of paper strung to it. With little to no space, it bore a single line in neat, cursive writing, "Answer the phone."

Ironically, just as the note was read and registered (Though, far from comprehended), the ring of it's subject begun to bray across the still air.

A chill crawled up the sorceress' spine as she dropped the stone and looked in the direction of the payphone.

Her sixth sense that, until then had been inactive, easily picked up a baleful force that resided within the phone. It would fail in permanently keeping her dormant when the realization that the longer she waited, the louder the ringing would grow, sunk in.

After arriving, she stood before it for some time, listening to the phone's whine become perceptively louder, and feeling the immense evil that surrounded it settle on her flesh. The dark recesses of Raven's mind screamed at her to refrain when her hand reached for the phone, operating under the assumption that whatever was on the other end of the line could only do her harm. Her two front teeth clamped onto the soft flesh of her lower lip as her fingers wrapped about the narrow neck. Closing both eyes tight, she jerked the phone from it's hooks and raised it to her ear, not bothering to say hello.

She was greeted by a painfully familiar voice, "Well, it's about time you answered! I begun to think you didn't like me…"

The hairs on the back of her neck rose.

"Dr. Killjoy…" She muttered weakly.

"Indeed, dear, indeed. I've been worrying that you may not know how to reach my asylum. Turn right and before long it will come into view, be cautious, though, Carnate's darkness hardly wants you to come into contact with me. I would talk to you more, but I have a patient whom necessitates some of my more, eh…'Delicate' attentions." A ghostly wail emerged from the background, causing Raven to start in surprise.

"You know what they say, a patient that is well tended to is twice as likely to return. Do travel safely now, dear, I can't have my largest medical find going off and getting herself hurt." With that, the phone on the other end hung up, leaving Raven puzzled, frightened, but even more so determined.

Just as doctor Killjoy had said, halfway through the path, his asylum came into view. A tall, two story building of Victorian design, it easily towered above the thicket, exposing it's weathered, peeling white paint-job, and two marble statues positioned at both corners of a black-shingled roof.

Raven abruptly paused her venture at noticing that one of the structures depicted that of a Kleer, a skeletal, hound-like beast that was a magical construct on Azarath. She squinted, making sure that the darkness wasn't simply making it appear as such.

Regardless, she continued to walk and, upon drawing closer, concluded that it was definitely a Kleer. Two sets of horns that sprouted from the head and jaw, achieving a unique angle, perspired the most damning evidence.

"But.." The logical half of her mind protested, "How could he possibly know about…?"

A sudden explosion, not within the immediate area, but still seeming to be in close proximity, cut Raven's train of thought short and caused her to gasp in shock.

Two more followed in quick succession. She turned from one side to the other, but saw nothing.

The noises, however, persisted.

A tumultuous symphony of feet stomping into the ground, some sort of audible slithering, Earth being kicked into the air-something was coming for her!

…And all at once, an earsplitting gun blast screamed from behind the thicket. Raven turned her head in it's direction to see a nearby tree come crashing to the ground. Receiving the warning, she backpedaled away, and not a moment too soon. Another gunshot, and an assortment of trees that lined the trail toppled over. Bounding over them was a vaguely familiar brute. The wide array of artillery sprouting from it's back was a sickeningly nogalistic reminder of a similar encounter in the prison.

Upon catching site of it's prey, the monstrosity hunched over, bringing it's upper-most guns to bear upon her. Raven backed away and self-consciously gazed at her forty-four before raising it to the face of her newest nemesis. Her finger tensed as it brushed along the trigger, but something cut her intentions short.

A strange sensation in the vaults of her mind was telling her that this was not a one-on-one. The creature's failure to fire in nearly a half-minute maintained the vibe.

Wide-eyed, Raven kept the magnum level, however just as she seemed ready to open fire, the sorceress spun around and popped a near point-blank round into the face of another gun-creature that had been standing behind her for an undetermined amount of time.

It's head exploded into a flurry of blood, bone fragments and brains, leaving nothing more than a stump that was once the neck behind as a keepsake.

"I knew it!" Raven hissed as she sprung to the side, evading a blast from the only remaining beast. As one fell, the other assumed the offensive. Assuming what football fans would describe as a `linebacker' stance, the beast dashed directly in for her. Caught off guard and slow to react, Raven's abdomen was met by the strong forearm of her assailant, causing her to flip forward before crashing into the ground. She attempted to sit up immediately thereafter, but simply could not hold. Winded beyond measurable terms, entirely soar and suffering from a splitting headache that almost felt concussive, she would remain in a sitting position for less than a full minute before flopping onto her back. Exhausted and hurt as she may have been, Raven's grip about the magnum never loosened through the entire altercation.

Despite it's victory, the beast did not relent or damper it's ferocity. Immediately after registering the damage, it stalked toward it's prey, knelt over and seized her by the throat. Sadistically tightening it's grip, it hefted her into the air. The broad fingers begun to dig into the teleketic's flesh, cutting off her air supply and increscently donating to her headache. Her already blurred vision growing fuzzy was the perfect sign to do something.

In that instant, the dark titan's body did not voluntarily act, so much as it operated off gut instinct. Just as if she were inhaling, her weapon-bearing arm jerked upward and, due to this, yanked her finger down on the trigger. A tumultuous blast erupted from the barrel, straight down into the beast's foot and, rather than simply sink in, cleanly blew more than half of it away. Rather than throw a fit, as most machete' beasts would have acted, the brute grunted loudly and aborted it's grip.

Raven was dropped to the ground, however her landing was far from smooth. Still too hurt to be dexteritaly capable, she hit the ground on her feet and ungainly tumbled backwards.

The hulking monster sparred less than a minute to grovel over it's lost limb before making due with the stump that remained and approaching it's victim to finish what it had started.

By the time it's destination was reached, Raven had miraculously recovered to her feet.

Rather than utilize one of it's many pieces of artillery, the beast reared it's arm back and lunged forward, swinging a right hook for the face of it's opponent.

Responsively, Raven ungracefully backpedaled, arriving in a safe-haven by mere centimeters.

The assailent was hardly slowed. In quick succession, it swung similar strikes with both arms, but again was avoided without casualty. In that time, it's enemy was laying plans of a counter attack. After dodging the fourth strike, she attempted to act, but was surprised when the beast's only foot landed on her own, pinning her to the spot.
With fleeting determination, she jerked her tethered extremity away and stumbled in reverse. Just as promptly, she was forcefully met by a clothesline at eye-level, which volleyed her into the earth.

For the second occasion of that battle, she had been served into the ground. This time, however, she could not get up. Her back had smashed into the assault rifle strapped to it, and was now rendered one of the many parts injured, bloody and bruised. Her legs managed to push her a short distance away shortly following the landing, but gave out as a result.

Small rivulets of blood drizzled down the sides of her head and even went so far as to emerge from the recesses of her mouth, flowing down the chin before ultimately coming to rest at her neck. Despite the indescribable amount of pain her body had suffered, Raven's mind was finally beginning to find the peace that it had desired for the past several hours.

As the telekinetic lay there, enveloped in the paroxysm of death, she found herself caring less and less about staying alive.

Though far from ascending, the worries that burdened and tugged at her mind were beginning to lift, and she was at long last unshackled.

And that opened one last window. One more chance to make things right.

The beast's instincts told it everything it needed to know. It's prey had given up. Life had lost it's luster. No matter how primitive it's mind may have been, anything that possessed the miracle of life could know.

It stood over her, raising both hands over it's head in a `jackhammer' position.

Just before it brought them down, Raven stuttered in a weak, hoarse voice, "A…Azar..ath…Metr…rion…Zin…thos…" And her broken, black and blue body lifted from the ground, carrying her high into the sky. Before her relentless predator could prepare it's weapons, she was too far out any reach. She was destined for the kingdom Heaven.

Yet, she, God, and anyone else that may have present would have known that Raven was still among the living.

-End Chapter eleven-

*Rambling*

Should I get any reviews, please, please, PLEASE, refrain from asking why the rifle never went off if she landed on her back so many times…I couldn't take having to answer…