His feet tripped out a frantic ballet as he hurried to keep up with the collapsing floor. Audrey Ross and Anthony Murchison sprawled forward in front of his panicked form. They too scrabbled at the weakening structure beneath them, not caring that they were running straight for a group of the waiting dead. Nigel kicked off one falling chunk, grabbed a handhold on a jutting piece of steel reinforcement and hauled himself back on to solid, yet faltering, ground. He caught up to the pair in front and grabbed onto whatever part of them was closest and hauled them forward. It was indicative of his time here that he was becoming quite adept at running across unsound terrain.
“Go, go go go,” he encouraged the two in his grip.
The cracks through the floor spread up the walls and the entire structure had seemingly hit its finale with fervour. This, it seemed, was the end. Upon seeing the creatures waiting across the atrium for them, both Audrey and Anthony wavered in their resolve. Nigel, struggling enough with his own weight, pulled them forward, ever forward. They would worry about their audience when they reached them. Beams and crushing lumps of concrete rained about them. The gaping maw of the earth beneath opened wide, ready for its lunch.
They would not be lunch. They simply would not.
Nigel powered forward. Small chips of tooth broke free of his aggressively clenched jaw. Blood oozed from every new hole in his body. Still he ran, and pulled, and ate through what was left of his will.
They rounded the final corner before the monsters-in-waiting, like racehorses at the final bend. Jarrod Anderson rose up from the billowing dust and stretched out his wings, flapping them in a slow beat. Curls and swirls of dust and rising smoke danced away from the tips of the taut, leathery appendages.
“TIME,” it called, its voice growling its way through the roars of the apocalypse that surrounded them, “TO DIE.”
“I don’t think so,” said Nigel. It was too quiet for the beast to hear, but it didn’t matter. As if it knew what was about to go down, the building stalled its collapse and held its breath. Nigel hurled his compatriots to their knees and surged forward. He ducked under a sweeping blow from a dark wing, spun aside from a deadly sting and swept beyond the reach of the human-beast with the charred-black skin.
It wasted no time following him. Nigel wasted no time checking to see if it was. Of course it was. This was the end of everything and it had to destroy its quarry before it was too late. Nigel had one chance to avoid his death, one chance to stop the devil. If he failed, it was lights out. Lights out for him, lights out for the two with him, and lights out for Milly and Levi. It was these last that kept him going.
He powered around a corner, leading towards the lifts. The beast, predicting his destination, opened out its wings and took flight, narrowly missing Nigel’s head as it swooped low over him. It landed with a heavy thud and smiled a wicked smile. Nigel smiled back, shot a glance at his dead wife watching from a distance, and lunged to the side. He fell through an open door, but didn’t bother closing it behind him. This was where he would finish the game. More explosions rocked the world around him as he pressed himself against the wall beside the door.
Anderson shattered the doorframe in his haste to get to Nigel. He swung his head looking for his prey, first to the right, then to left. Spotting Nigel, it whipped its tail around, aiming the sting square at his heart. Nigel threw himself to the side, feeling the wind of the tail brush past him. With a dull thud, it lodged itself in the wall behind him.
“YOU ARE DEAD, MEAT.” Jarrod tore his tail from the wall and took aim again. He beat his wings, stirring up the dust that now hung thick in the air, and thrust forward once more. This time, the tail made a deeper sound as it shot past Nigel’s moving form and buried itself into the wall. Nigel spun, looking at the first hole the sting had created.
Perfect.
There, behind the plaster and twisted steel frame, was a series of freshly revealed wires running through the wall. He reached in and grabbed these in his fist, tearing without hesitation, freeing the cables with a crackling snap. He wrenched the loose wires free of the wall and rounded on the beast, who struggled to free its own tail. It took a swing at him, but he ducked it with ease.
“Just so know,” he said, his voice a hint above a whisper, “last time was for me.” The beast looked at him with a stupid expression, unable to fathom what was happening. “This time,” continued Nigel, “this time is for everyone.”
He thrust the exposed wires forward, jamming them into the beasts protruding ribs. The moment the wires hit home, the beast stopped its struggles and froze in quivering pain. Blue flames forked out from the contact point and ran along Anderson’s veins, crackling and sizzling, cooking it from the inside out. A vibrating hum escaped its locked teeth. Its eyes blazed with impotent rage, its fingers flexing and un-flexing in rapid-fire movements. Nigel held firm to the wires. He had no need to do so – they were now welded to the beast’s blackened flesh – but he had no other plans beyond this. The beast looked down at Nigel, moving its head in juddering steps. The hum from its jaw rose in pitch and it opened it mouth wide.
“Nnnnnnn-nnnnnn-nnnnnnoooooooo.” Its deep, gravelly voice, mingled with the vibratory hum, came out in an unnatural and ethereal call of despair. “Yyyyyou c-c-c-cannnnn’t, yyou caannnn’t k-killllll mmmmmm, mmmm, mmmm-”
It never finished its final soliloquy. Its entire body burst apart in a shower of sparking lumps. Each fragment crackled as they soared through the air, turning to dust before they hit the floor.
By the time the dust of the beast mingled with the dust of the disintegrating building, Nigel was left standing beside the tail, separated from the body, but still embedded in the wall. Acting upon an unexplained impulse, he reached over and grabbed onto the tail. It was hard and dry, like wood from an old tree. He yanked hard and nearly fell as it dislodged and sent him staggering back.
“Huh,” he said, holding what was left of his former life’s guilt; the corporeal evidence that one can indeed defeat one’s demons. He slung the tail over his shoulder, careful not to stab himself with the pointy end, and headed out to see how the other’s fared.
Not so well, as it turned out. At first, he could not see them for the ocean of roiling black shadows that swarmed in a heap. Amongst the wraiths, he could hear a series of muffled grunts and groans.
“Oi!” he shouted, brandishing the disembodied tail. “Get off them!”
The mingled heap stirred, but did not disperse. He held the sting like a spear and let loose a cry that came from a place deep within. It bounced from wall to wall, bringing with it a trembling groan as the complex responded. The wraiths, one by one, turned to see him standing before them. One glance of the disassembled piece of the Jarrod-beast was all it took for each to scatter in fright, each letting out a whispered shriek. They didn’t flee out of sight, but remained at a safe distance, retreating with each step Nigel took.
The only one that remained was Julia, his dearly departed. She stood to the side, watching his advance with a self-satisfied smile on her face. Was it pride in her husband? Nigel highly doubted it. Perhaps it was glee at the death of her tormentor.
Audrey and Anthony lay huddled, unaware of the wraiths escape. Each had their hands clamped over their heads, awaiting their deaths in their own little cocoons. Nigel grabbed Audrey by the arm. She turned to him with a start and blinked. Realisation took its time on her face but, when it did, she stood and helped a pale and stunned Anthony to his feet.
“It’s time to go,” said Nigel. He took a long look at his wife, what he hoped to be the last, and turned towards the stairwell. They were a flight of stairs and a hall away from escaping with Milly and Levi. If only they still lived.
He picked up his pace, not looking to see if he was followed. He knew he would be; Anthony and Audrey needed him and the wraiths weren’t going to let their fresh bodies go without a fight. But it wasn’t just them. Now that the walls of reality were breaking down, the rumbling crashes of the building were joined by the panicked and excited whistling of eels and rage-fuelled screams of albinoids. The wraiths weren’t the only ones to cross over now. This complex was getting crowded.
He reached the stairwell and wrenched the door open, tearing it from its hinges in the process. He looked at the rotten door and shrugged as he cast it aside. Decay was spreading.
“Go, go.” He pushed his charges through the disintegrating threshold with the flat of his makeshift spear, keeping one eye on the advancing horde of spirits, floating fish, and white devils. “Up the stairs. Wait for me at the top.”
They did as they were told and he followed close behind. At the peak of their ascent, he didn’t hesitate before tearing open the door. Behind it, a mass of albinoids waited. Some lay dead in the hall and others still fought to feed. That was a good sign. There was still a chance.
“MILLY,” he called. “LEVI.” At the sound of his voice, all movement – above and below – ceased. A hundred pairs of eyes turned towards him. He held the spear aloft, a warning to all creatures present. The atmosphere changed from one of frenzy to one of confusion.
The albinoids, distracted from one feast, stared at the other, waving and jittering on their feet. The world around them shuddered and groaned. At length, the nearest albinoid to Nigel made a move. Almost faster than he could stop, it flashed across the hall and swept a pair of deadly hands at him. Nigel took a single step back and thrust the scorpion’s sting forward. The albinoid halted. The quivering stopped just as quick and its skin turned blue. Its flesh cracked and its eyes bugged out. Before any others made a move, the albinoid fell to the floor and shattered like a ceramic sculpture knocked from its pedestal. At this, the other albinoids shrank back.
“LEVI? MILLY? … YOU STILL ALIVE?”
“Yeah,” Milly’s voice behind him made Nigel jump near out of his skin.
He whirled around, finding his friends standing in a doorway to his right. Their faces were bathed in red blood and purple goo. Their clothes were ripped and their eyes were dark-rimmed from exhaustion, but they still stood. Nigel smiled.
“Good. Let’s get out of here.”