Page 53 of Any More Questions for the Corpse?

“He was going to get away.”

“It’s not worth dying for.”

Elaine refused to move. Hala held her back but couldn’t make her see reason. Kosh righted himself.

“Enough of this …”

He aimed the gun and fired.

Des felt the bullet hit between her ribs; it pierced through the flesh and crunched into the bone. She flew through the air for a few seconds longer, then hit the grassy earth with a thud. Her breath was cut short. She felt pain surge through her side, but she pulled herself back to her feet, standing between Kosh and Hala.

BANG. BANG.

Two more blinding punches of pain shattered into her. One in her chest, another in her arm. She stood strong as the pain washed through her, her eyes shining red in the night. She held her ground, clenching her fists as her body pushed the tiny bits of metal out from within her. Vampirism has a few perks, she thought. Kosh watched with bemusement.

She darted for the gun, pouncing at Kosh, who fired wildly. If they hit, she didn’t feel them. Des grabbed the gun and squeezed with everything she had. Its barrel screeched as the metal warped in her fist. She quickly let go as Kosh fired another shot. The gun exploded in his hand, sending fragments of fingers in different directions. Des took the opportunity and slammed her fist into his chest. Black ooze squirted from his open wound as he was knocked on his ass.

“Get out of here!” Des yelled. She turned to check on Hala and Elaine; they were most of the way to the dirt road by now, out of harm’s way. Yu should be close by to help them. Des had gotten both herself and Yu out of the maelstrom earlier before heading back in after Hala and Elaine. Now Des could focus; she’d done her duty by her friends. She turned back as Kosh was getting to his feet. She’d knocked him down, but hadn’t done much to stop him. He didn’t even seem to feel pain. How do you kill a dead guy? Kosh twisted his mangled hand into place; shadows slunk forth from his arm, replacing his missing fingers. He held out his hand, and with a small pop, a knife appeared in it. Des gritted her teeth as he began walking toward her with purpose.

A strange clinking sound pushed its way through the rain, like a sickly wind chime. They both stopped in their tracks and exchanged a look of confusion. Several skeletons had ambled their way out of the graveyard and were heading toward them at a leisurely pace. They seemed much less intimidating now for some reason. Maybe it was meeting Mal’s parents; maybe it was because she was used to seeing hundreds of them instead of just three. Either way, the effect had worn off and they looked more like clunky animatronics.

Kosh looked back to her and smiled. He reached his hand toward the skeletons and they came to a stop. Then they started to run with a singular focus. Des.

She readied herself. Their cartoonish presence was gone; under Kosh’s command they had returned to their nightmarish demeanor. Practically frothing at the mouth, and they would have been had they the facilities to do so. Des wound up a punch as one got close, and let loose.

Pop.

The punch connected with thin air. The skeleton reappeared behind her, clawing its bony fingers into her back. She spun at it with an elbow.

Pop.

She was knocked off balance with the spin, missing her target. The skeleton reappeared in front of her, grabbing the arm she’d missed with and slamming a fist into her ribs. She flung the skeleton away from her, watching as it flew through the air.

Pop.

The skeleton reappeared flying toward her, crashing into her legs. The other skeletons were on her now. She’d strike, they’d vanish. Over and over. Swing. Pop. Crunch. One brought both its fists up over its head. Des went to block. It vanished.

A blow like a gunshot struck her in the back of the head. Two bony hands brought down like a hammer upon her skull. She buckled and fell to her knees. Her vision swam with the pain. A fleshy figure hobbled through the bony ones. A knife glinted in the darkness. She felt a sharp punch slam into her chest. She fell backward; rain splashed against her face. Something fell with her—a handle, sticking out of her chest. She saw Kosh standing over her, then the red faded from her eyes.

Mal screamed against Mazino’s onslaught. Lightning struck out through the dark. Oozing creatures lurched and fought with his shadows. Skeletons battered and clawed at them. Side by side, Taran and Mal held off a maelstrom of rage. Footsteps got closer, the lightning fiercer, the weight heavier. They were losing.

A small arc of lightning pierced Mal’s shoulder. He fell to one knee. Taran cried out behind him. Mal’s shoulder turned black, overtaken by his shadow. He pulled himself up and glimpsed Taran’s hand; a black ooze was eating at it. Taran kept fighting, but with every blast, with each strike, they lost ground.

“I need his heart,” Taran said, a whisper in the storm. “Only you can get it.” Mal looked at his hands, smoking shadow covering bone. Mal forced out a nod.

“Don’t hold back,” Taran said, and then he vanished.

Fear and panic gripped Mal’s spine. A laugh rang out. Then an explosion of blue light. Mal let go and embraced all that he hated, all of himself.

The maelstrom stopped. The footsteps quieted. The dirt settled.

Mal remained unmoved, a skeleton emblazed in shadow, the white circles in his eyes shining out in the night.

Mazino seemed taken back—not scared or hateful, but delighted.

“You are magnificent,” Mazino muttered as he glided forward. Rain pattered on bone as the skeletons halted around them.

“A true horror to behold. They must hate you. Such power.”