The Guilty Grave

The Final Battle, Part 1: Realization and Resolve

Victor takes us to the back alley of a bookstore. The smell of old coffee grounds stains the air. Victor passes control over my body back to me.

As soon as I open my eyes, I drop to my knees. I'm destroyed, physically and mentally.

"I killed him didn't I," I say breathlessly. "He burned to death."

Look, Victor says. "It was your fault. He engaged us first and he wasn't going to let us go."

"I burned him. He's only ashes."

You can't control your magic yet. And I'm the one who encouraged you to be more creative and you did just that.

I don't respond.

Okay, I get it, but you entered into a dark world the day that we met. Death and pain are unavoidable in life, and it'll be more frequent now too. The only thing that you can do now is grit your teeth and keep moving forward.

I swallow hard. "I don't know if I can keep going."

Okay. Just give me body-control and I'll go take care of Moordoor myself.

I inhale, then exhale. "You know what Victor? None of this matters. Not your death, not Austin's. Not my life either. Not anymore. I have to let all of it go to move forward. I'll never let myself feel anything ever again. No emotions, no joy, no pain. I become the perfect dark artist. I'll save the world and protect forever it so that nobody else has to go through what I am right now."

Victor is silent. Dang, bro.

"Let's go stop Moordoor."

Victor re-casts the tracking spell over my phone, and we are led to a warehouse a block and a half down. The side door is locked, but nothing is going to stop me. Not now, not ever. I rear my leg back and kick the door right off its hinges.

"Moordoor!" I yell as I walk into the dimly lit warehouse. "Get out here right now!"

The warehouse is silent. I walk out into the center of the massive hangar. This is probably super stupid of me, but I don't care. If he wants me dead, he has to come out.

I stare into the shadows around my circle of light in the massive hangar. I listen for footsteps or breathing. Nothing. I'm beginning to get skittish, but then my nerves turn to anger. I clench my fists.

"Moordoor!!" I yell. My voice echoes back to me.

Then suddenly, the hangar lights flash on and I'm temporarily blinded. When I get my vision back, I see the professor standing on top of some tall scaffolding. The professor was up really high, he could have easily tagged the room the hangar.

"What a pleasure it is to see you again, Mr. Umera," the professor calls down to me. "And hello to you too, Victor."

With that the professor leaps off of the scaffolding. The professor falls about 50 feet to the ground and lands in a crouch, without breaking his legs. I see that the professor donned a large black overcoat today. He stands up straight to greet me.

He reaches his hand out to shake. I instinctively leap backwards, staring at the black ring on his ring finger.

"Mm. Learning, are we?" the professor says with a smug grin.

"You bet your soul I am," I reply. "And more than you even know."

Moordoor chuckles. "Do you honestly think that you stop the rebirth of the world?"

"What do you mean 'rebirth?'" I ask cautiously.

The professor gets a distant look on his face. "Man has fallen away. They rebel, they betray, they kill," he says fixing his eyes on me. "They don't respect authority. Do you know what the cause of this is? Free will. I will recreate humanity so that there will never be wrongdoing again. Yes, I will lead man into a new age. The evolution will begin!"

"You're insane," I say.

"And you are blind. The world is falling apart, and I hold the bonding in my hands!" Moordoor reaches into his pocket and pulls out the pocket watch from the book.

I gasp. The light catches the artifact perfectly, making it shine perfectly.

"That's the-," I start.

"Yes! The Chronofold! An artifact that was created just for this purpose!" The watch face currently has a number 8 on it.

The professor notices me eyeing the watch.

"Ah, taking an interest, are you? Answer me this, Aster, what does the number eight symbolize?"

I don't answer.

"Let me put it this way. The numbers one through five represent early life and normality. The number six is the number of the devil, or malice. The number seven is the number of good fortune. But the number eight…" The professor takes a pause. "The number eight symbolizes destruction and power absolute! With this power I will rewrite the world!"

I take a knife out of my pocket and adopt a fighting stance. "I cannot let you do this."

"You, Aster, are far too late." With that Moordoor presses the button at the top of the watch.

There is a small click! then clunk! With that, the watch begins ticking. The 8 on the watch begins rotating and glowing green. The hangar seems to be vibrating and the concrete floor begins cracking. The ticking grows louder and seems to echo everywhere.

"This. Is. Evolution," the professor whispers, holding the watch above his head.

Let's go, Aster! Victor shouts.

"Right!" I shout back.

I take the knife and slit my wrist. I don't feel the pain though. I switch hands and slit the other wrist and toss the knife aside.

"Here we go. Let's get creative." I extend both hands toward the professor. I envision my spell, and the necessary words seem to flow into my mind. "Sanguis Implicat!"

Multiple thin streams of blood stream from my wrist toward the professor. The blood then takes on the constitution of string and begins encircling the professor.

"Oh-ho-ho!" He laughs. "Blood magic, hm? How fitting for a murderer!!"

What happens next shocks me. There is a green flash and then the professor is outside of his blood confines.

"You surprised me, Aster. But you're going to have to do better than that!" The professor reaches into his coat and pulls out a revolver. He points the gun at my body.

"You get an A for effort," Moordoor cackles.

I notice that my ring of blood is still active, then I get an idea. I make a finger pistol at the spell.

"How's this then?" I say. "Sanguis… DAMNAT!"

The ring of blood explodes into red flames, throwing the professor across the hangar. He didn't drop the pocket watch, however.

He stands up and dusts himself off. "You're beginning to irk me, boy. Now I have to fight dirty."

The professor kneels down and touches the watch to some exposed dirt through the hangar floor. A green pulse runs across the floor. Then it's silent, (except for the loud ticking). Suddenly pale, decayed hands burst through the floor. I jump back.

"Hey, Victor…" I say.

Yeah, yeah, he replies. These ones are actual zombies.

"And these ones will eat me?"

Most likely.

"Neat."

At this point, 6 zombies had emerged, with more on the way. I dash toward where I tossed my life and grab it. I focus on the blade. Just like I imagined, blood flows down my hand and to the blade of the knife. The blood accumulates and soon, I have a massive blood sword.

You're really going ham with this imagination thing, aren't you?

"Heck, yeah I am."

For the next 5 minutes I'm cutting down the undead left and right. Moordoor would summon them, and I would slice them to ribbons. After a while, I got tired of the charade. I release the blood magic surrounding my life and reapply it. This time, in the form of a whip. I lash out toward the hand that Moordoor was holding the watch with and yank back his arm.

"Let go of the watch old man!" I yell, tugging.

"Never! You will not stand in the way of advancement!" he yells back. He pulls out the revolver and fires faster than I can react. The bullet pierces my right shoulder. I cry out and drop the knife.

I drop to my knees, gripping my bullet wound.

"You're in over your head, boy," Moordoor says approaching.

Blood is pooling around my knees and the professor's feet.

"No. I'm not," I say looking up. "And you're an idiot."

I command my blood to harden, cementing the professor in place.

"Gah! Blast you!" he cries in surprise.

I dive for the pocket watch, but he pulls away.

"Just kidding," he whispers. "Nunc stat adhuc."

Suddenly, I can't move.