The Shadow Way Part 3

Creed sat in the backseat of the car, lazily looking out the window at the fields passing by. It was a tranquil ride on a cool spring day with blue skies overhead. As his eyes wandered across the rolling brown and green waves, he turned his attention toward the front of the car and noticed no one was in the driver’s seat. He wasn’t alarmed, however. He was only curious.

A needle slid into his flesh.

The pain snapped his consciousness back to the dirty old barn and the bearded man staring at him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even blink. The pain was excruciating, as if every nerve in his body was on fire even though the needles were thin and barely left a mark. The Iseda scholar was an expert at making the slightest prick feel like a knife-wound. Creed barely remembered being shot earlier in the day and the pain that caused but he would’ve welcomed another bullet if it meant his torture ceased. “Are you sure he’s feeling it?,” he could recognize Queen Faith’s voice but everything sounded as if he were underwater. The strange priest in the robes came into his line of sight, “His mind may be in disarray but inevitably, he feels everything.” As if confirming the statement, the Scholar put another needle in his flesh and the pain came back. He wanted to scream but nothing came out. His face didn’t even flinch and he knew it wasn’t going to unless the strange priest allowed it.

His mind escaped once more, either due to the pain or the spell he was under. He was now at a dinner table in his childhood home with three plates full of food. His mother sat to one side and across from him was Nelson Creed, his father. Something seemed odd about the scenario. He remembered that his father didn’t live with him when he was a child. In fact, he was quite certain Nelson died before he was even born. Was he the one who killed him? It wouldn’t make sense that Creed killed someone before his life began. Yet, he was sure he was the one who killed Nelson. His history was a dream.

At the dinner table, Nelson said nothing but maintained eye contact with Creed. There was only silent staring before Nelson dug into the food piled on his plate with both hands. Peas and mashed potatoes slipped through his fingers as he began shovelling the food into his mouth, leaving messy smears across his face. It didn’t seem as if he was chewing or swallowing. He was just consuming, nonstop. “Fuck you,” Creed growled as he watched his father shove an obscene amount of food into his face. He was disgusting, only barely resembling a human but Creed couldn’t stop staring at him with Nelson returning the gaze.

“Never be ashamed of who you are,” Mary told him.

“That’s who I am,” Creed pointed to the subhuman smearing food across his face.

“I’m sorry, son,” Mary said with her usual sweet smile, “But that’s fucking horseshit and you know it.”

Another needle went in.

At the table, Creed screamed in agony and kicked wildly. In the barn, he was silent and standing. The Scholar stood back like an artist examining his work while Queen Faith and the strange priest leaned in for a closer look. “Are you suffering in there, Farrell Creed?,” Faith sneered, “Do you regret inserting yourself in the Iseda conflict? Do you regret allying yourself with Ella Saraki? Do you wish you had never protected Alysa? I hope you do. I hope your last miserable moments in this life are filled with complete and utter hopelessness and regret. If I meet you in your next life, I hope I recognize you and do it all over again.” She spit in his face and the saliva dripped across a bloody cheek. He couldn’t wipe it clean but he knew it was there.

Creed was now in his mother’s house but days earlier. “Just try to remember how amazing you are,” Mary told him.

Queen Faith punched him hard across the face and he was back at the barn.

“I’m going to Saraki’s house,” she explained to the other two men before looking back at Creed, “Toy with him for another hour or so, then finish him off.”

“I can keep him alive for as long as you need, Queen,” the Scholar answered.

Queen turned to Eleazar, “If I leave, you’re sure you can contain him? He can be… unpredictable.”

“He’ll stay in the trance,” the strange priest assured her, then peered into Creed’s eyes, “He’s honestly a fascinating specimen. His mind is doing such interesting things. It’s truly a shame you refuse to study the Shadow Way.”

“Just do your job Eleazar,” Queen Faith left Creed’s line of sight and he assumed she finally left.

Then Creed was on a small stage with marionette strings attached to his limbs. Above, Nelson Creed acted as the puppeteer. He twisted and pulled the strings violently, his yellow teeth clenched in frustration while Creed was forced to jerk about. His mom sat in the audience, “You thought he had a stronger hold over your life than he did. He can’t do anything to you. How could he? You killed him before you were even born, remember? You were always a much better man than he ever was. No one mourns him but there are people who would mourn you if you died.” It was then that he noticed the other audience members consisted of Alysa, Cassandra, Pete, Lucille, and Gus. “You have people who love you and care for you,” Mary reminded him with a smile, “So you see, you can’t die today.”

At the barn, the Scholar removed the needles from Creed’s flesh and placed them back in their velvet cloth before rolling it up. Next, he placed another cloth on the bench and when he unrolled it, Eleazar saw an assortment of blades and saws. Even though Queen Faith had left, the second chapter was beginning. The Scholar was prepared to start cutting chunks from Creed. They would be non-vital parts and the Scholar knew how to do it in such a way that Creed would not bleed out too soon. Eleazar watched him select the first blade with fascination. He didn’t condone Iconoclast hatred and pettiness but he found some interest in the theatrics of balancing life and death. They were one and the same in any case. That was the Shadow Way.

Back on stage, Creed continued to dance on strings as his mother watched. “Just cut the strings, Farrell,” Mary told him, “It’s easy.”

The Scholar examined the first blade and briefly studied its sharpness in the light before moving to Creed.

“Remember what I said? You’re capable of doing amazing things.”

The Scholar pulled at Creed’s shirt and began tearing it open with the knife.

“Nelson can’t control you any more than that guy in the barn… So just snap out of it,” Mary snapped her fingers.

Once the shirt was fully open, the Scholar placed the tip of the blade at a particular spot.

On the stage, Creed reached up and violently yanked the strings away from his limbs.

In the barn, Creed’s finger twitched.

Eleazar suddenly felt his hold slipping and realized the horror of the situation. He shouted at the Scholar, “No! Kill him now!” The Scholar looked up curiously just as Creed roared to life, releasing a sound that was a mixture of rage and pain. His thumbs plunged straight into the Scholar’s eyes, creating twin fountains as the Iconoclast let out his own howl. Eleazar tried his best to regain control but he could no longer feel Creed’s mind. His will had set him free.

The Scholar was hefted off the ground by empty eye sockets and hurled against the over-hanging loft. The bearded man’s head hit the ledge, leaving a bloody smear before his lifeless body fell into a pile of hay. Eleazar made a move for the row of knives but Creed booted him in the side, sending him into a stable where he fell unconscious. Once the excitement was over and the adrenaline wore off, Creed’s body began to shake, starting with his hands. The massive amount of pain he was in briefly sent him into a state of shock as he was not allowed to physically react to his torture until that point.

****

Across town, a black Camaro skidded onto a loose gravel driveway before coming to a stop. After the situation at Stagger Lee’s, Alysa and Cassandra decided to mount a rescue for Creed’s mother as it was likely what he would have wanted. They had no idea where he was or if he was alive but the top priority at the moment was getting people to safety and considering the state of things, it was difficult to know how to do that.

The little house sat on a well-kept lawn with a small gardening shed next to it. A swarm of the Infected were slamming their fists against the front door and it was only a matter of time before they burst through the windows. Alysa summoned strong winds, scattering the small group; they were tossed away from the home and left stunned on the lawn and driveway. Next, Cassandra raised the shotgun in her hands and blasted the lock in a single shot. The front door swung open with a thunderous sound and the two ladies darted inside quickly. Mary Creed rose up from behind her couch when she saw a familiar face, “Cassie?”

“Don’t worry, Mary,” she said as she began to lead the older woman out of the house, “We’re gonna get you out.”

“Hi, Miss Creed,” Alysa greeted her, “I’m -”

“Alysa Saraki,” she smiled and lightly patted her arm, “I know, dear. So nice to meet you.”

The Infected on the lawn returned to their feet and came at the women again. Alysa quickly cast a spell and blocked them with a mystic shield. As the three women moved, the shield led the way, bowling the Infected over as they walked carefully to the car. Once there, the shield dropped, then they scrambled into the Camaro and sped away.

“Where’s Farrell?,” Mary asked in a worried tone.

“We don’t know,” Cassandra answered in an equally worried tone as she drove, “But we’ll find him.”

“We’re gonna go by Pete’s Shop,” Alysa informed her, “See if they need help.”

“Where do we go after that?,” Cassandra asked as she swerved the car around infected people rushing out into the road, “Creed has a friend named Gary who’s got a family out in the Suburbs.”

“Trust me, Gary can take care of himself.”

“The Museum then? Gus?”

“Makes the most sense.”

Just then, Alysa’s phone rang. When she looked at the name on the screen, she made a loud sigh of relief. She accepted the call and put the phone on speaker for everyone, “Creed, you okay?” Mary spun around in her seat and Cassandra almost did as well but managed to keep her eyes on the road.

“I been better,” Creed answered while laying on his back in the barn, “You see Cassie or my mom?”

“We’re here, baby,” Cassandra called out, “We’re heading out to get Pete and Lucille. Gus is next.”

“Where are you?,” Mary asked.

“I’m in the old barn by the tracks. The Iconoclasts got me but I managed to fight ‘em off,” Creed sat up and made sure Eleazar was still unconscious, “Listen, Alysa, I got the guy responsible for all this. Said he knew some kinda magic called the Shadow Way. Ever hear of it?”

“Yeah,” she said excitedly, “Papa Abadie said that dude’s the key. I think he’s the one who started the outbreak.”

“There’s some good news,” despite being wracked with pain, Creed pulled himself to his feet, “I saw Queen Faith. She said she was heading to your mom’s house. I think ya better break off from the group and go see what she wants.”

“Yeah, I’ll be happy to catch ‘er.”

“You want us to keep looking for the others?,” Cassandra asked Creed.

“Yeah, go get Pete and Lucille,” Creed answered, “With any luck, they might have some potion or something that can help. Then get Gus. He should be at the Museum.”

“What about the Shadow dude?,” Alysa asked, “He’s apparently got the power to stop this. You’re gonna have to make ‘em end the spell.”

Creed looked at the bench full of blades next to him and then back at the unconscious necromancer, “Think I can manage that.”

The Camaro pulled off to the side of the road once they ensured no Infected were around. Soon, Alysa stepped out of the car. “Sure I can’t get you closer to your house?,” Cassandra asked.

Alysa shook her head and then looked off into the distance for any sign of the Infected, “I’ll be fine. Just save the others.”

“What about this Queen … whateverhernameis? Are you okay going alone? What does she even want?”

“I’ll find out. The Iconoclasts and Reformers got a long history. Iseda has a complicated past. I don’t even know all of it but it feels like I’ve been answering for it all my life. Whatever’s going down,… I gotta deal with it.”

“Just be careful, okay?,” she reached out the car window and held her hand.

“Only way I know how to be,” Alysa gave her a reassuring smile.

The car drove off and she watched it disappear over a hill. She wasn’t sure what was in store at her mother’s house. The conflict with Queen Faith had spiralled out of control and her future as an Iseda priestess was uncertain. She hoped that, if nothing else, they could save lives and Creed would find a way to end the curse.

****

Some time later, when Eleazar woke up, the first thing he noticed was that old ropes were tied to his wrists and ankles in a quartered position, the ends of each rope tied to various stables and posts around the barn. “I found enough rope in this place to make ya stay put,” Creed emerged from the shadows, “Guess it’s just my lucky day.”

“I’m impressed by your will,” Eleazar told him, “Regaining full consciousness as a zonbi isn’t easy. The psychological strain must’ve been excruciating… to say nothing of the physical turmoil you’re already in.”

“My mom gave me a pep recently and I guess that gave me the push. Like I said… my lucky day.”

“So it seems,” he gazed down at his restraints, “Does your mother live in this town? Any other family members? Friends? Before we take this any farther, you should consider their safety.”

“And you should consider stopping the curse,” Creed pulled the Scholar’s bench closer to them, making sure not to drop any of the blades on the ground, “And don’t give me any bullshit about not being able to stop it. I know better.”

“Maybe I can stop it,” Eleazar admitted, “But maybe I don’t want to.”

“That’s fine,” Creed took a small knife from the bench, “I know how to be persuasive.”

He plunged the knife into the necromancer’s left thigh and while there was a steady stream of blood, Creed noticed there were no cries of pain. Curiously, he looked up at Eleazar’s face and witnessed a pleasant smile. “Are you starting to understand?,” he asked calmly, “When you walk the Shadow Way, pain does not exist.” To test the theory, Creed twisted the end of the knife while it was still protruding from his leg. Again, there was no sign of pain despite an extra squirt of blood.

“Tough sonuvabitch, ain’t ya?,” Creed stood up and went back to his bench, “Maybe you don’t feel pain but I imagine you can still die. I don’t think you want that.”

“When you walk the Shadow Way,” he began, “There is no life. There is no death. There is only truth.”

Creed continued to rummage through the blades to find the right one, “What’re ya telling me? Ya can’t die?”

“In as much as a fool like you can understand the concept… no,” another smile crept across his face, “You can tear open my flesh and take out my beating heart but I shall remain. I have reached a state of existence you cannot fathom.”

“Ya might not believe it but I’m kinda glad to know all that,” Creed turned and held a large blade in his hands, “… I don’t usually have the chance to get creative.”

Continued…