The Onyx Throne - Book One

Allora wiped the sleeve of her trench coat across her left eye clearing away what blood she could. In the dark of the house, it looked like black face paint had been applied from her scalp down to her jawline. He could see a few drops splattered on the white blouse she was wearing. The gemstone in her headband flashed again, nearly blinding in the lightless foyer and Mitchell staggered back rubbing his eyes.

“Ah, shit!”

“We must be going. I am being sorry Mitchell. I am wanting to talk to you first but we are not having time. They are finding us.”

As his vision cleared he felt a hand grab his wrist and drag him into the living room. Her grip was like banded steel. Behind him, something heavy hit the door followed almost immediately by a deep “whump” that Mitchell felt in his chest, and the whole house shook to its foundations. Cracks spiderwebbed through the paint and drywall around the door frame, as the cheap wood of the door cracked and bulged inward, while bits of popcorned ceiling rained down on both of their heads. Allora pitched forward slightly. He felt her grip loosen and, coughing and trying to suck air into his lungs again, he snatched his arm free.

“Hold the fuck up!” He coughed again and pulled in a deep breath. “Who are those guys, who the hell are you, and what is going on?”

“We are not having time!” Allora hissed. “The spell on the door is only having one charge and it is maybe only killing one of them. The other two will be coming and I am running out of mana crystals. We must go!”

“I don’t… What? I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re a goddamned crazy person! I’m calling the cops!”

Mitchell reached for his pocket but like a whip, Allora’s hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist again.

“If you are not coming with me they will be killing you.”

Her voice was low and deadly serious. Outside Mitchell heard the shouted conversation of one of the men. Her head snapped back through the small dining alcove to where the sliding patio doors stood closed. They were glass and had no fancy writing on them.

“The other two are circling behind. We must be hurrying!”

It was then that Mitchell noticed there was no furniture in the house. It was empty. On the countertop in the kitchen, he could see a few red solo cups and two large bags of oranges. There was no sofa in the living room, no TV, no pictures on the now cracked walls, no little table in the dining alcove, and no stove or refrigerator in the kitchen. He suspected if he flipped the light switch it wouldn’t come on either.

Something clicked then and his eyes tracked back to the oranges.

“I have been eating fruit for some days.” That’s what she’d told him at Filmbar. What the fuck was going on?

Before he could ask her again the hand on his arm pulled him and he had no choice but to follow. She pulled him through the empty living room and down the hall.

At the end of the hall, he could make out two doors, both open. There was a little bit of light in the door on the left but the one on the right was pitch black. Naturally, she angled right. He got the feeling that if he resisted she’d yank his arm out of its socket. It felt like she could do it, too.

Once inside, she released him and turned to close the door. In the darkness, he saw a flash of light from her headband and her hand became illuminated much as it had done at the front door of the house. Then the light raced from her arm through another set of shapes that had been carved on the door. Outside the room, he heard the sound of breaking glass. They were in the house.

Once the glow dissipated, the room went dark again but only for a moment. There was a much smaller flash from her headband and several candles around the room burst into life. Startled, Mitchell looked around and felt like he’d been dragged into an eighties slasher film with human sacrifice.

The carpet and foam padding had been ripped up from the floor exposing bare concrete. Everything had been wadded up and shoved into the closet at the far end of the room. In the center of the floor was another circle, only this one much more complex. Circles within circles within triangles and other shapes Mitchell couldn’t even name.

At the center of this circle was a small metallic… something. It was gold or a material that looked like gold, and it had four delicate legs that connected with four lines at the center of the circle and which spread outwards through the entire design. The legs joined at the center, then flared out and opened up almost like the leaves of a flower and it formed a small platform. At the tip of each leaf was a small gemstone about the size of a pea. Atop the platform sat a small cage-like device, the top of which was open, having been slid up on a set of thin vertical golden rails.

The overlapping lines combined with some sort of runic script and his brain struggled to comprehend what he was looking at. The whole shape took on a three-dimensional quality. Mitchell was overcome with the sense that he was staring down a deep, dark hole that bored into the Earth.

He squeezed his eyes shut as vertigo seized him and tried to shake the feeling off.

Opening his eyes once again he found the feeling returned if he stared directly at the designs so he averted his gaze. Instead, he turned to Allora. She was just off to his left securing a backpack to herself. She had stowed her long knives somewhere and she had a sword belted to her waist as well. Through the wall into the other room there was the sound of more glass breaking and then more yells in that strange language. It sounded like one had gone through the patio doors and the other was coming in through the window in the second bedroom. Mitchell turned and looked for a way out of this room but found the room’s only window had been covered by the plywood he’d seen from outside. They were trapped.

“Be standing in the circle. There! There!” Allora pointed. “Do not be stepping on the lines!”

Outside something hit the bedroom door, and there was another small explosion as light flared up from the shapes drawn onto the back followed by a scream of pain that cut off very quickly. They both jumped before Allora directed him to the circle again. Trying not to stare too deeply at the patterns, he saw that there was a small space just barely big enough for his feet to sit in the center off to one side of the metallic device. Not waiting for him, Allora stepped into a second one directly across from his.

From the hallway, there was a shout of pure rage and what were almost surely curse words. Allora’s eyes flicked to the door and then back to his.

“Please, Mitchell. We are not having time.” She had softened her tone but it was no less urgent. “They will be killing you. And if not them, more will be coming.”

“But… why? I…” Mitchell couldn’t think. Outside the very angry someone kicked at the door and the wood splintered and cracked but amazingly it held. The smell of burnt wood and blackened meat and hair reached his nostrils. Through a crack in the door greenish-gray face pressed in. Half-burnt, its flesh was charred and oozing down one side with one eye clouded over. It was the larger figure from outside that Allora had gone after with her knives.

“Eck voneer, mine phelor!” he snarled. Mitchell didn’t know what it meant but the meaning was clear enough. Some sort of invective. From inside the circle Allora hissed in displeasure.

“Then come, tolaken,” Allora replied, her voice like iron. “Come.”

The big man thing bellowed in rage and staggered back from the door. There was a shuffling sound outside as he threw himself at it again but it was weaker this time. He was clearly wounded and struggling to stay on his feet. Even so, the top hinge broke from the frame completely, and the door nearly cracked in half.

“Mitchell!”

Allora screamed his name this time. It was enough. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on but she hadn’t hurt him. He was also quite positive that tall, gray, and crispy in the hall very much would. She must have a plan to get them out since she wanted to get away as much as he did and this mandala from hell on the floor was some part of that. From her pocket, Allora pulled out a much larger gem, almost the size of his thumb, and placed it into the cage in the middle of the device. She reached out and touched one of the small pea-sized gems that sat at the center of each of the petals formed by the legs and the top of the cage slammed down, smashing the gemstone at its center.

Light erupted from the shattered crystal and, strangely, remained contained inside the delicate filigree of the cage. It began to run down the four legs and into the drawing on the floor, almost like liquid flowing down a channel, and where it moved, the lines began to glow. As the light filled the room, the creature outside bellowed once again and threw himself at the door, which gave way under his assault. He came through with such force that the door completely ripped away from the frame and broke apart. The top half flew away hitting the far wall while he tripped himself up over the bottom half, rolling into the wall with a meaty thud. The thin drywall caved in under his massive bulk, and he groaned.

The light from the cage at the center reached the outermost set of symbols and Mitchell heard a hum begin to come from somewhere. Then he felt it. His insides began to vibrate with the frequency and suddenly, it was hard to breathe. He felt every hair on his body stand up and something like static electricity began to ripple across his skin.

“What the fuck is happening?” he screamed and the hum had grown so loud he could barely hear his own voice.

“Do not be moving!” Allora shouted, her voice almost lost in the increasing volume of the hum.

Across the room, the big man staggered to his feet. One arm hung limp and bloody from his side and half of his body was scorched, flesh coming away in flakes that looked like burned parchment paper.

"How is this asshole still on his feet?"

His one good eye turned to the two of them standing motionless in their spots. In the center, the cage emptied as the last of the liquid illumination flowed into each leg, and streams of it reached the outer ring of the drawing. A curtain of light began to extend upward from that ring right as the creature howled in a primal rage. He raised his good limb and started to charge the circle as he pulled his arm back to swing his long blade. Mitchell could only watch the sword begin a sideways arc that would terminate at his neck. As he screamed a scream he could no longer hear, he thought to himself, “This is how I die. All I wanted to do was watch a movie with a pretty girl and now I’m going to die.”

Then the world went white and Mitchell felt himself rip apart.