NASIM

 

Friday January 10 - 2042 PST

Five days until Turbocharger activates

 

BANG-BANG!

The little Makarov jumped in my hands as I fired two rounds into the attacking spider. The beast was fearsome with its hairy, blackened body and six legs. Though in truth one of the forelegs ended in a scorpion's claw giving it an unnatural unbalanced appearance with only two legs on one side but three on the other. It was troubling to witness in its utter wrongness. Merciful Allah certainly did not intend for animals to appear as such which was proof enough for me that this abomination was not of His doing.

Though the arachnid was menacing to behold, it was not bulletproof. The nine millimeter rounds of my pistol shattered its hard shell and showered the luxurious quilted rug beneath its abominable body with its viscous black blood. This was the second of the beasts that I had killed. Though they were horrifying to the mind of men this was not my first experience with the supernatural and I was able to hold my fighting spirit intact long enough to fire well aimed shots into my unholy foes.

Qasim had only fought men in his short career in the Fedayeen and was paralyzed with fear at the mere sight of the creatures. Then one of the spiders leapt at his throat. The twin fangs of the monster were as large as a grown man's pinky finger and easily pierced Qasim's unprotected neck. Venom was injected into his veins which quickly left him a quivering heap of flesh dripping foam and blood from his mouth.

This was not a way for an honorable man to die and thus why I refused to be taken by fear. When the second of my targets died I saw something which I could not bring myself to believe. The spiders of the amber disk that had been moving in to make a feast of me turned away. It was as though they had reconsidered their actions after they saw I posed quite the risk to them. With Allah as my witness I swear that these beasts have an intelligence above those of all other animals. As one, they moved up the stairs to the half-floor where our hostages were being held.

Yet this was not the only inexplicable mystery I witnessed. Once Qasim's body had finished its poison induced trembling and he passed into the afterlife I saw an unholy sight. The dark crystal necklace I wore about my neck glowed red with unearthly light and became hot to the touch. I saw the same happening with the necklace about Qasim's neck and those of all my fellow fighters. Whenever a life was snuffed out, whether it was an infidel or a believer, that life's energy was captured within these abominable stones. I wanted to throw the stone far away then and there, but Uday himself had commanded that we return them charged with the essence of the unbelievers we sent to their deaths. Thus I was honor bound to keep it despite every fiber of my being telling me not to.

Bahram was sweating profusely beside me. His eyes were wide and darting back and forth. He grabbed onto my elbow as though he needed reassurance I was real. "Nasim, how can you be so calm? There is evil magic afoot."

I grabbed Bahram by the shoulders and gave him a shake to remove him from this stupor of fear he was in. "Listen to me Bahram. There is strange magic here, but we are Men of Sacrifice. We must accomplish our mission. Do you understand me, Bahram?

He just stared at me with a rabbit eyed look of terror. I shook him one more time to emphasize my words. "Do you?"

Up above us on the half-floor at the top of the stairs I heard men and women screaming. The unholy spiders had begun their black feast. Bahram seemed to not hear the cacophony of terror, he nodded once in understanding before speaking. "Nasim, what do I do now?"

"You order us to collect up what artifacts we can carry and then we leave this place of nightmares."

He nodded quickly and after regaining his composure began to give orders to the men. We were to grab what we could carry and leave immediately. The stone about my neck burned hot again as one of the infidels on the floor above us died to a spider of the amber disk. Fearing that it would burn my chest I pulled it from under my shirt and let it rest upon my coat. The intervening layer of linen was welcome relief from the unnatural warmth. But now everything about me was cast in a red light.

As much as the others, I wanted to leave this place. So I went to the nearest glass case, one as tall as a man. It held a singular item. Within was a farmer's scythe with the most pristine blade I had ever seen on any weapon, let alone a tool for cutting grain. It was engraved with the incomprehensible runes I had come to associate with unholy magic. This was most certainly one of the prizes Uday sought.

I smashed in the glass front of the case with my foot and carefully removed the scythe so as not to injure myself on broken shards. The scythe's silver blade looked to be made of rubies as it reflected the hot glow of the bloodstone resting against my chest. It practically called out to me with unseen power.

Then the red glow of my necklace suddenly faded and I was left in the dark. Only the reflected light against the scythe's curved blade split the darkness before me. When I looked to see what had happened, I found the red gemstone of the necklace had touched the handle of the scythe and was now almost black again.

A chill gripped me and felt as though it reached to my very heart. My breath came out as mist that fogged the blade momentarily. As I looked about me I saw that all my fellow fighters now exhaled small clouds of white. It had not been my imagination playing tricks on my mind. The room had indeed become suddenly very cold.

One of them spoke aloud. "Do you feel that?"

"Indeed, brother. It is like a freezer in here."

"No. I mean this."

I could see it was Maroun speaking now. He was crouched low in the yellow circle of emergency lighting. Step-by-step he inched closer to something by the oaken entrance doors. I had remembered the entrance was flanked by a pair of statues, winged bulls with human faces. The same as could be found in ancient Babylon back in my homeland. Likely, the wealthy infidel that owned this home had taken them from their rightful place to use as ornaments.

"What do you feel, Maroun?"

"This statue. It is making noise."

Then I heard it as well. There was a tremendous crackling, like rocks being smashed into dust under a grinding stone. Or more ominously bones being broken. Maroun stood up from his crouch so I could only see his feet in the circle of light. Then there was a wet chopping sound and to my horror I saw Maroun's head fall into the light beside his feet.

Before I could cry out I was knocked to the floor. The scythe had been wrenched free of my grasp. When I looked to see where it had fallen I found myself looking up at it floating magically in the air before me. It's blade no longer had the pristine gleam of freshly polished silver. Perhaps it was a trick of the darkness that enveloped me, but the surface of the blade oozed with a viscous substance the thickness of blood but much darker. The curved metal had grown black and slick as though it had been dipped in crude oil.

But as my eyes adjusted to the dusky half-light I could see it was not held aloft by magic. A being not of this earth was holding the weapon…a being without a face. Though I did not know what it was that stood before me, I knew—somehow—deep within my heart one immutable fact.

Something terrible had been conjured into our world and it was here to collect souls.