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The Dark at the End 7

Weezy held the Compendium open before the Lady while she in turn held the baby on her lap. The Lady was perhaps half a minute into the tongue-twisting, larynx-torturing vocalizations that made up the Ceremony when the apartment door slammed open.

Jack?

Weezy looked around in time to see a disfigured stranger emerge from the shadows behind Eddie who was himself in the midst of turning.

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Time seemed to slow ...

The stranger's arm blurred as he swung something through the air. Eddie's eyes widened and she watched in horror as his head tipped to the side and toppled free of his shoulders.

She screamed at the twin jets of red pumping from his neck stump as the stranger shoved him aside in his headlong rush into the room.

His eyes blazed in his scarred face ... they fixed on her as he raised his right arm again.

A sword ... he carried a sword ...

She saw it arc toward her and instinctively raised the Compendium for protection. The blade bit into the metal of the cover and Weezy recognized the pitted blade of Jack's katana - the Gaijin Masamune - before it pulled free.

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Another swing of the blade, lower this time. She tried to block it again but was too slow ...

She felt it slice across her belly, parting the fabric of her shirt and the skin beneath as if they were paper ...

No pain at first, and then a burst of staggering agony, deeper and more intense than she'd ever felt or imagined possible, as the point gouged through her intestines.

She dropped the book and slumped to her knees, doubling over as the stranger rushed by, raising the sword again.

From the corner of her eye she saw it ram through the baby and into the Lady.

The baby screamed, the Lady's mouth opened wide but no sound emerged as blue light began to glow where the blade pierced her chest.

Leaving the Lady and the baby skewered on the sword, the stranger released his grip and stepped back to watch.

The Lady's eyes rolled up in her head and she began to shudder as the blue glow grew brighter, spreading until it enveloped her and the baby, covering them like a second skin. The baby stopped shrieking, stopped moving as he began to press back against the Lady's chest and abdomen.

No ... not press back ... the baby was melting into the Lady ... or the Lady was absorbing him. Weezy couldn't tell. But either way, the baby was disappearing into the Lady. And when he was gone, the Lady's shuddering became more violent. The feet of the chair legs beat a tattoo on the floor, then went silent as it began to rise into the air. The Lady's mouth hung open, emitting a long low moan as the enveloping blue glow brightened and brightened until it flashed with intolerable brilliance.

The sword bounced off the suddenly empty chair and both clattered to the floor.

The Lady and the baby ...

Gone.

No, please, she couldn't be! No!

"At last!" the stranger said, his voice vibrant with triumph.

This had to be Rasalom ... could only be Rasalom.

Through her blur of tears and haze of pain she saw him raise his arms and noticed his left hand was missing. That and the scars ... Jack's work. But not enough.

Not enough.

"Done!" he cried.

Eddie ... my poor Eddie ... and the Lady ...

She wanted to rear up and strangle this creature, this beast, but could do no more than topple to her side and curl into a ball of agony. She clutched her gushing wound and felt the slick tubes of her small intestine.

Rasalom turned and stepped closer.

"Thank you for making this possible," he said as he stood over her. "I doubt I could have done it without you."

What did he mean? She didn't understand, but the possibility that she was in any way responsible for what had happened in the last few seconds hurt her more deeply than any wound. She wanted to scream a denial, but had no strength for even a whisper.

She felt her life oozing away, the room dimming ...

"A gut wound is soooo painful," he said, his tone taunting. "As a reward for your help, I should let you die and end your agony, but I need it. And I need you alive."

He nudged her with the toe of his shoe. The room brightened, but her agony screamed on unabated. Why wouldn't he let her die?

She looked at the empty wooden chair. The Lady. He'd killed her. This was her third death, and that meant she was gone and couldn't come back.

The voice went on. "I only wish the Heir were here. I owe him. His presence would make my victory complete. But that will have to wait for another day. And that day is soon coming."

Wait ... where was Glaeken? He'd been somewhere behind her when all this happened. Why hadn't he done anything, why was he silent?

Her question was answered when Rasalom stepped over her and addressed someone else.

"Well, what do you think, Glaeken. Enjoy the show? You may speak now."

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