Dawn of the Void

Chapter 7: I want an 8 Ball


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“Shit!” James pounded the steering wheel. “Shit shit shit shit!”

Serenity whipped about, trying to keep all the gremlins in view. They were all over the car. Slamming their fists against the windows, head butting them, causing small cracks to spider into existence.

“They’re going to get in!” she shouted. “Go faster!”

“I can’t go faster!” he yelled back at her. “The car’s fucked!”

He tried swerving from side to side to dislodge gremlins but failed. All the while the chittering cry went up from the car roof, some six or seven of them keening into the New York City dusk.

“Fuck this! Cover your ears!” Serenity pointed the gun straight up.

“What?” James stared at her. “Wait!”

She started firing. Not madly, but careful, deliberate shots at different parts of the roof.

James let go of the wheel and covered his ears. The sound was deafening in the small space.

Some of the chittering stopped. Several small bodies fell away, but there were hundreds to replace them.

James leaned over the wheel, trying to see past the dozen gremlins pounding on the windshield. Already cracked from the crash, it was weakening by the moment.

“Think, think!” he yelled at himself. They couldn’t go faster, and for all he knew the car was about to die. They couldn’t get out of the car - they’d be immediately swarmed and torn apart. Drive into a canal? Drive into a wall and knock the gremlins off? No, too many running alongside. Then?

He searched the shops up ahead.

There.

“Buckle up!”

He sawed the wheel to the left. The Camry curled around, rear wheels squealing, and they drove straight into the front of a boutique cupcake shop.

The front wall was of glass, floor to ceiling, and it exploded around them, a cacophony of glass, gremlins screaming, and they plowed through gleaming stainless-steel tables and chairs, bounced off the counter, and hit the rear wall.

“Out!” he shouted, shoving his door open. “Out!”

He swung his skillet as he emerged, catching a leaping gremlin like a ping pong player would a ball, and staggered away. The car was slicked with black blood, the broken glass and impact having knocked almost all the gremlins but those on the trunk right off.

But more were swarming into the cupcake store.

Serenity started firing.

Bambambambambam.

Gremlins toppled but there were too many. James looked around desperately, saw a narrow hallway going back to bathrooms. “This way!”

He swung his skillet, crushed a skull, and then his aura flickered gray, and a gremlin released his leg even as its talons scored his flesh.

James leaped clumsily over the crumpled hood, sweeping broken glass before him and ran down the short corridor. Doors off each side, but he ignored them. They’d be trapped and killed, and he didn’t want to bet his life on the hope that the gremlins couldn’t dig their way through wood with enough effort.

Serenity dropped a spent magazine, slammed another into her Glock. Retreated into the hallway, picking her targets.

James ran to the end of the hall. It was only some six yards deep and ended in a service door. Tried the handle.

Locked.

“Fuck!” he slammed at the handle with his skillet.

Bambambambambam.

Serenity backed into him. “What we doing?!”

James gave up on the door, turned, and his heart sank.

Gremlins were flooding into the cupcake shop. There were easily fifty of them making their way slowly over toppled tables and the ruined counter, the orange streetlight picking them out and making them look even more ghastly.

But they were moving slowly now, grinning.

They knew they had their prey trapped.

“Reload,” said James, stepping forward, skillet in hand. “I’ll buy you time.”

Serenity had lost her purse, but the gray plastic bag hung from the crook of her elbow. She dropped, opened a case.

“Come on you fuckers,” said James, turning sideways to face the mass of enemies. “Come get some.”

The first hissed and leaped. James swung, adrenaline making the skillet light as a feather. He slammed the gremlin aside, crushing it against the wall, then swung right back and hit a second. It bounced of the wall, not dead, began crawling toward him. He stomped it, shoved the skillet forward like a shield, knocked a third back, then soccer kicked it in the face.

A fourth got by him, bit him in the thigh, screeched as his gray aura burned its mouth. It fell back, smoking, and James roared and golf swung the skillet down and around, shattering its head.

They came at him in a wave now, swarming forward, filling the hallway. James’s eyes widened, he tightened his grip on the skillet, got ready to go down -

Bambambambambambambambambambambambambambam.

Bodies fell, bits of heads tore off, gremlins spun around, a whole mess of them dropped.

“I’m out! Cover me!”

James laughed manically, wiped sweat from his brow, brought the skillet up.

The gremlins didn’t know fear. More were pouring into the shop. They climbed over their fallen, came at him.

James swung, trying to make his movements more controlled now, his arms burning with effort, settling for deflecting, blocking, not going all out so as to conserve some strength.

Three got around his legs, slashed at him with their talons. His aura burned them, but each one opened up lacerations.

“Argh!” He swung the skillet across all three, stomped a fourth. The aura didn’t just burn them, it seemed to stun them, making them easy to finish off. But soon they’d hurt him enough that he couldn’t stand. Adrenaline would keep him going for a while longer, but…

Serenity started shooting. Gremlins dropped, fell back, tumbled over other corpses.

She wasn’t loading all seventeen rounds. Just enough to make a difference and then she popped out her magazine again.

“I leveled up!” she shouted.

He was so deafened he could barely hear her.

Nothing for him to do but kill gremlins. They covered the floor now, a score of them dead, shot, crushed.

James refused to think of the hundreds entering the shop. Refused to let icy black despair weaken his arms.

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With a scream he pretended to charge forward. The gremlins fell back, then leaped. He batted three out of the air, kicked a fourth, retreated. His aura flickered again and again, but now he couldn’t finish off the wounded. Focused on just blocking those who leaped at him and then kicking them away.

One got over his skillet, landed on Serenity behind him.

Almost he turned.

She screamed, then her Glock fired.

“Fucker!”

She unloaded her magazine again.

James heaved for breath. Sweat ran off his brow. His arms felt like boiled pasta. His borrowed cargo pants were shredded and gleamed with his blood.

Gremlins stirred, shaking off the aura stun.

James stomped the closest, crushing its skull.

Your rank is now Mendicant 2

You have 5 unspent points.

James fell back. He didn’t have time to consider. The only thing keeping him alive was his aura. He willed his statistics sheet to open, didn’t even scan it. Simply dumped all his points into Arete and closed the sheet as more gremlins came at him.

“Yes,” hissed Serenity from behind him. “Agility all the way, baby.”

He heard the accelerated clicking of bullets being pushed into the magazine. The metallic slide and click of the reload, then Serenity started shooting.

Her aim was better. One bullet per gremlin, taking each in the head, dropping each neatly with impressive speed.

She missed only once, and then set to reloading again.

James sucked in a deep breath. No time for regrets. More stamina, agility, strength, all of it would have been golden right now.

But there were hundreds still in the shop ahead. He could still hear the keening sound that some gremlins were making outside the shop.

“Hey assholes, enough already! You got this situation covered!”

Gremlins came at them, filling the corridor.

James moved forward to give Serenity room, swung his black iron pan. But he was starting to flag. The thing was heavy, and the handle was just a fraction too short for an easy two-handed grip.

He knocked two gremlins back before the first got past him and slashed his thigh.

His aura flared, but brighter this time, and the gremlin’s fist charred to the bone. It screeched and fell back.

Serenity started firing. The corridor was an explosive echo chamber. Seventeen more gremlins dropped.

James dropped back, summoned his sheet.

Aura: Lead

Aura Strength: 2

Didn’t look impressive, but he’d take it. Arete was now at 18. Was there a threshold for crossing to Aura Strength 2? He wanted it to be 15, for it to work in multiples of something, but he’d no idea.

Serenity ran out of bullets. Immediately set to reloading, her fingers dexterous and nimble in the dark.

“I’m up.” James pushed himself forward, skillet at the ready. The pile of dead gremlins was now knee high in the center of the corridor and tapering down in both directions. James took a deep breath and set to swinging.

Time ceased to have meaning. Bouts of gunfire alternated with his ever more desperate attempts to fend off the gremlins while Serenity reloaded.

But Aura 2 was no joke. Where before the gremlins reacted as if they’d touched a hot stovetop, now whatever part of them hit him burned right down to the bone. With claw attacks that meant the loss of a limb, but the stupid fuckers who bit him died on the spot.

But they were still wounding him. His legs were a mess of lacerations. His blood slicked the floor, and he kept slipping on it. Bites pocked his arms, had punched through the bandages. He felt woozy, hazy with pain, the skillet a hundred pounds, but fear and desperation urged him on.

“Leveled up!” crowed Serenity. “Agility sixteen!”

“How many bullets?” he shouted hoarsely.

“Last mag.”

Night had fallen outside. Orange streetlight glinted off shattered glass and stainless steel in the shop, while before them hundreds of crimson eyes floated in the gloom, split by vertical slits.

“Not good.”

“Not good,” she agreed.

The gremlins had crept over the mound of the dead, had paused as if listening to their conversation, and now grinned and crouched to leap.

How many had they killed? Over a hundred of them, easy. James stomped on the wounded before him, kicked the corpses away.

“I want a beer,” he croaked.

“Fuck beer,” said Serenity, standing up behind him. “I want an 8 ball.”

The four lead gremlins shrieked and leaped.

James swung the skillet in a great arc. Batted all four aside, then kicked a fifth as it rushed them. Serenity shot a sixth. James reversed his swing, knocked another back, stomped those who’d survived the original leap. Serenity shot three more, trying to conserve her bullets.

James staggered back, swung his skillet. Why hadn’t she had a baseball bat at home? A fucking machete? A chainsaw?

They killed, and they killed, and then Serenity put her gun up.

“No more bullets!”

The gremlins seemed to understand; they hissed with laughter, malicious and childlike, and then rushed forward.

“Fuck this,” said James. “See you in the next life, Clarice!”

And he charged headlong into the seething mass of talons and teeth.

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