Chapter : Vol. Three: Dark Sarcophagus: Verse One-Hundred and Fifty
Cypher and Alex finished off the last of the combatants and flipped the table hiding the others over on its side. They scattered like insects and clustered around Armond. Armond looked around at them and frowned. These pathetic fools were gathered around him as if he could do anything to stop these Conductors.
His eyes lit up, and he smiled a wicked smile as he realized that indeed there was something he could do! The Sarcophagus hadn’t reached complete saturation just yet, but he could still unleash his leader upon these fools who dared to interfere. He could always supply more negative energy later on after they were all safe.
He flipped a switch on the side of the black sarcophagus and thanks to the newly slaughtered corpses in the room, fresh negative energy poured out of their bodies and into the black coffin. The sarcophagus pulsed a bright red and the two advancing Conductors sensed the danger and froze.
Their eyes locked upon it and their minds ran quickly as they tried to think of a way out of this situation. They had wanted to finish this before the coffin had been opened, however, Cypher and Alex had been just a little too late.
Armond laughed loudly as the sarcophagus pulsed faster and faster. “You fools! You’re too late! You might have acted sooner and saved your own lives, but now you’ll perish and this catacomb will be your tomb!”
A dark mist soon began to swirl around the sarcophagus and the pulsing crimson light grew brighter. The lid flew open and a dark pulse sent out a shockwave that knocked everyone to the floor, Cypher and Alex included.
“M…O…R…E…” A voice soon rose from the black insides of the coffin and Armond turned to look, horrified at what he was seeing. Two glowing red eyes stared hungrily at him, and before he could so much as let out a scream, black misty claws poured out from the inside and wrapped themselves around the remaining members of Zealot’s Ring.
In a slow and gruesome process, their bodies were stripped of everything. First flesh, then the muscle underneath, followed by blood, veins, organs, and bones. All that remained were ethereal, terrified souls tethered to the world by the swirling crimson and black mist pervading the room. Their screams echoed throughout the room and continued throughout the entire process, but their souls were soon absorbed by the insides of the coffin and pulled into the void within.
Their entire existence had been eradicated, and Armond was the only survivor still left alive as the sarcophagus lid slammed shut. The heavy stone coffin pulsed again before it shattered and collapsed in on itself leaving nothing behind. A low rumbling began then and ripples began to work their way out from the space that the sarcophagus had been occupying. With a low boom, it returned and exploded all in the same instant, sending chunks of black, blood-soaked stone hurtling out around the room. Within the cloud of dust, a hovering figure soon appeared.
However, Cypher and Alex hadn’t waited for this horrific development, and they had gotten out of there as quickly as possible. The moment that the black misty claws had begun to creep out, they had sensed a presence in the fourth rank.
They, of course, knew that it was far beyond their ability to handle, and even now they had already made it through the door leading out of the Rot Ogre chamber. Their legs carried them out as fast as possible, and they burned Zight like madmen as they filled their Zight Stanzas. At a time like this, there was no use in saving Zight. Either they escaped, or they died. There was no middle ground, no reality in which they survived whatever dark creature that was being born in the depths of Finn’s deep.
Armond might be a fucking idiot, but they certainly weren’t. Not that it mattered, since Armond was only a human with a Rank-One body. There was no way he could have escaped in time to avoid whatever hellish creature that was about to crawl out of that sarcophagus.
Meanwhile back with Armond, the figure hovering in the dust stared at him with blindingly bright crimson eyes. It gave him a look that denoted a deep unfathomable hunger, and with it, a hatred for all things living.
Armond soiled himself immediately upon meeting that gaze. It was nowhere near human and it certainly didn’t resemble the look of the leader he had imagined. Armond stumbled backward as the creature touched down on the ground. A long black cape fluttered in a dark breeze and Armond shuddered in fear.
He had not been prepared for this. Nothing in this world could have prepared him for such a thing. “Why..?” he asked. His fear barely allowing him to form coherent thoughts. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this! P-please! Boss! No! NO! Master! Yes, Master! Please spare me, I can be of assistance to you! Y-you… you’ll need someone to help guide your f-forces yes? I can… Oh no…”
Armond was studdering, his mind racing to find whatever words he could that would save his pitiful life. His years on this earth flashed before him.
A childhood spent on the streets, abandoned by his drug-addicted parents.
A struggle to keep himself fed through petty acts of thievery and a fight against a world that had turned its back on him.
The day he had met a member of Zealot’s Ring.
The day he had become its leader, his greatest achievement.
The evening he had been informed of the discoveries in Finn’s deep, and the ritual which would revive the original leader of Zealot’s Ring by a mysterious black-robed woman with pink hair.
All the careful planning that had gone into keeping the location and the excavation a secret.
The two young Conductors decimating his leadership council with ease.
And lastly, the moment when this fiend had appeared before him.
It stepped forward slowly, purposefully drawing out this nightmare of a situation. In its eyes lay not the mindless hunger and hatred of normal undead beings. Behind those crimson eyes was a vibrant intelligence far beyond what he could imagine. Schemes upon schemes could be seen coming together as its mind raced, and in its wake, only death would remain.
This had been a mistake. He never should have delved into powers he didn’t understand. Why had he been so goddamn stupid? He wished he could go back and undo this entire plan, but it was far too late now.
The creature reached out with a smooth grey hand, a dark smile upon its moist red lips. Its sharp fingernails clamped down around his neck and lifted him off the ground with ease, drawing blood as they pierced his skin. The creature’s grip was as firm as iron. Unmoving and unbreakable with the pitiful strength that Armond possessed. As he was drawn closer, the sickly sweet smell of blood and death wafted over him and his eyes bulged in terror.
His screams echoed off the chamber walls as the creature’s fangs sunk into his neck and ripped away a chunk of his precious flesh. Despite all logic, the horror-filled death cry even reached the two fleeing Conductors and sent chills down their spines, the dark aura of those depths spreading to every inch of Finn’s Deep. Armond’s life flowed out of him with each rapid beat of his heart, and fed the beast as darkness began to slowly overtake him.
His last thoughts were ones filled with regret and sorrow. He cared not for his own life. That had been forfeited the moment he had decided to disturb this burial ground. No, his life was truly meaningless.
Instead, he was sorry that he had released such terror upon the world and threatened the future of his entire species. He knew that he deserved oblivion, and he even welcomed it with open arms. Pennance, he supposed, for his foolishness, but it was a fate that was perhaps too good for him.
As his vision faded away, and his body fell limp in the grasp of that horrifying creature, a single truth echoed throughout his fading mind: There would be no afterlife for the man known as Armond Moriteri.