Chapter 75: The Saint of Graves

She held her ringing head in her hands as she turned back to assess the battle. Lily flopped lifelessly, impaled on the monster's scythe arm while Harry Tophat lay still on the floor, his head rolling away from his body. Soon, both her lifelong imaginary friends dissolved into nothingness before her eyes. Shock did not let her weep.

The monster turned to her and began approaching, its eight legs moving gracefully. "Killing ethereal beings born of another's imagination would've been impossible, save for this ethereal manipulation I stole. It must be my divine right to usurp Lord Belial that granted me this contrivance."

August sat back against the wall, resigned to her fate. Blood dripped from a cut on her forehead derived from the impact against the invisible wall. Her vision, blurry as it was, made out the shimmering stature of the approaching monstrosity. But what was she to do when her imaginary friends stood no match?

The monster stood inches away, the stench of blood burrowing into her. It leaned down so the warm odor of its breath doused her face. "No more fight, it seems. You certain there are no other ethereal beings hiding in there, ready to give their lives for their doomed master?"

There was, but she couldn't even summon the energy to bring Zephyr out, even if she wanted to.

The monster, seeing no reaction from her, pulled back and reared back a scythe arm. "Hold still, mortal. I shall part your head clean off your body so that I can revel in your unique ability. I believe you are the final catalyst instrumental in my grand plans."

She closed her eyes, waiting for the nightmare to end. In the next fraction of a second, there was a jarring bang of metal striking metal, followed by a burst of light.

"What?" the monster screamed, its grating voice chilling her bones. "What is this, mortal? You hid more abilities!"

Her eyes shot open, not out of curiosity to see what the monster had witnessed or why she was still alive, but because of an unfamiliar power bubbling within her that shot painful blue light out of her eyes and mouth. She screamed and her heart burned. Everything hurt.

The monster struck earth-shattering blows at her. However, a blue, spherical, and translucent shield stopped all the attacks, a bright light flashing whenever the monster connected. So enraged by her defiance of death, it unleashed an onslaught of diverse attacks next. Streams of red-hot flames engulfed her, followed by bolts of lightning, then green laser beams, and so many other offensive abilities; all stopped by the mysterious shield.

"How?" the monster bellowed. "How are you doing this? I must have your powers for myself!"

She barely heard its words, fatigue setting in. It dawned on her that if she were to lose consciousness, the translucent shield might disperse. Nevertheless, those thoughts waned as she fell to the ground, her vision darkening.

❊ ❊ ❊

She woke up to a somber, gray sky with no clouds. A few crows dotted overheard, traveling downward in the direction her legs faced. Her mind seemed blank, as if she were forgetting something. Then the memories, accompanied by heartache and tears, came flooding in. Lily. Harry Tophat. The tears streamed down her face onto the moist earth she lay on. The spider monster. She started to her feet, her heart rate spiking as she surveyed her surroundings. Only when she became certain the monster hadn't followed her to wherever this place was did she breathe a sigh of relief, somewhat.

From the summit of a rocky hill, she surveyed a forest scattered with tall trees devoid of leaves. A wave of airborne crows descended upon that forest, their many caws and clicks drowning the air in endless noise.

As she descended the hill and drew closer to the forest, the calls of the crows closest to her quietened. They, high in the trees, paused to peer down at her. The sight of so many eyes watching made her shiver. She hugged herself to combat the sudden gust of chilling winds. The trees were dark as coal and very smooth to her touch. Black earth and decaying twigs crunched beneath her feet.

Soon the entire leafless forest fell silent, as the plague of silence reached every crow. Yet they watched her every move. It was when August emerged into a clearing that she recognized the place, the faint treads of her early childhood revealing themselves. Her dreams were unlike anything else. Whenever she dreamed, she awoke to worlds more real and fantastical than the mundane world; where anything she imagined could happen. Planets of candy, oceans of ginger ale and strawberry milk, and trees of chocolate. And yet her skin crawled as she remembered. Her nightmares also pulled her into worlds. Worlds like the Deadwood Graveyard.

Countless crows perched on the many tombstones dotting the dilapidated graveyard. After a deep breath, she stepped forward, wary of the crows. After all, they had pecked at her skin anytime she came here. Once, the crows were so vicious that they pecked at her arms, exposing the bone beneath. She had screamed and cried. It was Harry Tophat who carried her through these grounds to the mausoleum in the distance, while the crows ravaged his back. There in the mausoleum was a stone coffin that, once entered, provided an escape from this world. Thankfully, when she had escaped that time, her arm returned to normal.

Absent-mindedly, she reached the entrance of the mausoleum. It then occurred to her that the crows had followed to the stone steps, but kept their distance for whatever reason.

The stone mausoleum stood two stories high. Though weathered by time, its dark granite walls, infested by moss, exuded malevolence. A centerpiece carving above the door depicting a six-armed entity reminded her of the other use of the mausoleum. The first being born of her nightmares was sealed here. She took a step back, already having second thoughts. Maybe rushing back into the mundane world to meet certain death at the hands of that monster wasn't such a good idea.

With a nervous glance behind her, she noted that the crows had encircled her. Their message rang clear. There was no going back.

She pressed her palm on the heavy slab of stone serving as the door. It rumbled in response to her touch, rains of dust cascading down as it rolled out of the way, revealing the mausoleum's depths. As soon as she walked inside, lamps fixed at intervals on the stone walls flickered on, illuminating the corridor with golden light, the scent of burnt oil wafting through the air.

To the left resided the room with the stone coffin she could use to escape this place. Anytime she found herself in this world, she beelined straight there. However, this time, a feeling warned her that it was the wrong option. There was the spider monster to contend for outside. And the fact that she still existed in this place meant she was alive.

August went right, determined to figure out where that foreign power that saved her originated from. At the back of her mind, she already knew the answer, but couldn't bring herself to accept it. As she had expected, the door leading to the room he was trapped in was locked. A soft touch was all she needed for the door to open inward.

Only because of the fear, the abject horror that the spider monster had already evoked in her, was she able to muster the courage to enter the spacious chamber. The air had a stagnant smell, as if it hadn't moved in centuries. Cobwebs hung from the stone ceilings. Carvings depicting battles he partook in covered the walls. A layer of dust had caked the ground she walked on. Her footfalls were light and measured, while her head constantly rotated, as if she anticipated an ambush emerging from the shadows.

Positioned in the center of the room, there was a large stone coffin on a raised platform. She ascended the steps to the coffin. Her heart skipped when she found the heavy stone lid slid ajar. He escaped. The slithering sounds of bone scraping stone tickled her ears. A malevolent bout of giggles echoed off the walls, the cracking of bones reverberating. Her legs rooted themselves to the ground in fear. The hairs across her arms stood erect.

"Why so scared, little girl?" a ghastly voice echoed. "It isn't I who you should be afraid of. Hehe." Then the voice spoke directly into her ear. "But the demon that awaits you outside, waiting for my protective ward to wane."

The rattle of bones engulfed her now.

"What do you want?" she muttered.

"Is that the way to treat your savior? Huh? Where are those weaklings parading as your friends, who failed so spectacularly to protect you when true danger came knocking at your door?"

Her fists tightened. "They are my real friends! I will not allow you to insult them."

"They were, little girl. Were. Do not forget their pathetic deaths at the hands of that demon."

She stifled her tears. "You never answered my question. What do you want? Why did you save me?"

"Before I answer, turn and face me."

Despite her reluctance, she spun abruptly on her heels, shuddering. The first thing she saw was his face, mere inches from hers. The black skull of an elk with branching horns glared at her through red balls of light serving as his pupils, suspended in his eye sockets. Sprawling from that black skull was a cloak of threadbare linen that shrouded most of his bare skeletal body. Still, six bone arms, so long, black, and flexible, allowing him to articulate them in any direction, emerged from the confines of the cloak. He was Mr. Mangles, the Dark Specter, and the Saint of Graves.

Her eyes, so widened with fright, took in all of him.

Mr. Mangles retracted, then stretched to his full height, spanning seven feet, all the while his bone joints cracked and clicked. "What I want, August, is freedom."

"You are free," she stammered. "You broke your shackles already."

"True. But I am still confined within these walls. And even if I escape them, I can not leave this world like your dead friends could. That is the freedom I yearn for. If not, I will release my ward and let the demon do as it desires."

"We'd both die if it gets to me."

"So be it. What difference is death if I am a prisoner of this world?"

She gulped, weighing her options. One monster yearned to kill her while the other wanted freedom, but could turn around and harm her when he got what he wanted. The answer was obvious, but what a horrible set of circumstances she found herself in.

"Fine, I'll set you free under one condition," she said. "You are not to harm me, my father, and Emily." After some thought, she added. "And her family as well."

Mr. Mangles smiled in response, his bony snout spreading as if it were flesh. Next, he stood aside, beckoning her to lead the way. With heavy feet, she moved forward past the Saint of Graves. She retraced her steps back to the main corridor and then on to the room containing the escape coffin, ever aware of the tall skeletal monster trailing behind. At the touch of her hand, the door leading into the room opened inward.

She pointed at the stone coffin. "There. Use it and you can leave this world."

Mr. Mangles glanced at the coffin, doubt flashing in his red eyes. Then he shrugged and used one arm to lift the stone lid. Inside the coffin was a spiraling vortex that doused the otherwise dim room in white light.

"What happens when we leave?" she asked. "Will you let that thing kill me?"

Mr. Mangles, peering into the vortex, turned back to regard her, his twin red dots dancing with delight. "Hehe. Well, why don't we find out?"

In the next moment, he disappeared into the vortex, leaving her alone. She wanted to stay behind, where it was quiet. Where it was peaceful. In the mundane world, her mother was dead and her life was ruined.

The only reason she drew near the coffin was because her body still lay outside. If any harm were to befall it, there was nothing she could do about that in here. So she jumped into the portal and gasped awake in the arms of a towering, coal-skinned man. His skin was as rugged as the toughest mountains. She froze, too scared to draw his attention. But his eyes burned golden, burrowing deep into her soul.

"Mind telling me what the demon wanted from you?" he asked.