⚡️THUNDERFANG S3 #35

⚡️THUNDERFANG S3 #34: Forsaken

Locke learns the hard way that Vows are not the only thing that can be forsaken.

GXYZTavon Gatling

Conspiracy Awaits

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The Iron Gate loomed taller than the one we’d passed through to get here, purple and yellow energy coalesced in the center. A discordant melody of groans floated up from the sea of risen in front of the platform and mixed with the hum of the gate, penetrating me to my bones, as Dr. Hendrix typed on one of the control panels.

The 44^th crossed his arms, his sister and father reluctantly taking point in front of him. Jillian readied her blade, her gaze pingponging between Jane and myself. The father pulled a small handgun from within his suit and aimed it at me.

I had my work cut out for me.

“Dr. Hendrix!” I said sternly, my eyes trained on the Moriartys. “We saved your life on Shiningstar. Isn’t that worth something? We knew exactly who you were there, too, and we still helped you. Please, do not do this.” I wasn’t even sure what “this” was, but I couldn’t let them continue with anything they had planned.

“I appreciate what you and your friends did for me.” There was a sliver of thankfulness in her voice, perhaps a dash of remorse. And yet she pulled a lever and said, “But I have a job to do.” The hum transformed into a steady bassline, a haunting note overlayed with the groans. 

I braced myself for a gunshot wound or a stab to the side and charged at Dr. Hendrix, my lightning flaring up as I moved.

I narrowly avoided a slash from Jillian and a barrage of bullets from her father and closed the distance between the Doctor and I. I cocked my fist back and focused a surge of electricity into a single punch. She yelped and ducked out of the way as my fist collided with the console. Sparks flew from myself and the electronics as I poured as much of me into it as I could.

“JANE, NO!”

My focus snapped behind me at the sound of Ira’s voice. He was on the platform with the rest of us now, along with John. 

And Jane was barreling towards the 44^th, bloodlust in her eyes.

Like any good Bleeding Heart, I did the only sensible thing I could do.

I ran to go protect the man who just called me dumb, a nobody, and a plague. Oh, and a nameless beast of the field.

I was closer than Jane, so I launched myself into the air, hoping to tackle and save the 44th from the same fate as his younger brother.

We tumbled over and over, coming to a stop just before the edge of the platform. He pushed me off as we scrambled to our feet. Jane scowled behind me, then set her sights on the 43^rd.

“Jane! STOP!” I cried out. How was I supposed to beat the bad guys if I kept having to save them?

“Did you not hear what they called us?” She set her sights on me. “Do you think they’re going to stop after you give them a stern talking to? I admit, Locke: you are better than me. Always have been. And I’m okay with that. Let me do what you can’t. You can’t beat everyone by talking to them!”

As she turned her scowl to the father, he fired shot after shot into her. The situation had gotten more dire than I’d originally thought: I was wishing she would get clipped by at least one. Alas, each of them whizzed through her and struck the console. The energy swirling in the Iron Gate flickered and powered down. The void left by the absence of the hum was somehow worse. 

Jane took slow, menacing steps towards the 43^rd as she flexed the fingers on her right hand, dried blood flaking off with every step.

“You can be better than this, I promise! Please, do not kill him!”

A brief moment of hesitation overtook her. I was happy for the win. Anything that bought me time—

“Stop! Right now!” From another side of the platform, Jillian shouted and my heart sank. Jillian stood behind Ira, her blade pressed against his throat. He stood there, stiff, unable to move lest he allow her to draw his blood. His hands were raised in surrender.

“Jillian, please!” I couldn’t stop both her and Jane at the same time.

“My brother is dead, Detective! DEAD! And you expect me to show you any ounce of mercy!?” She scoffed. “Looks like you two are wearing matching rings. Let me guess: you’re in love? How would you feel if I took from you the one person you care about sooo deeply?”

SHE’S GOING TO DO IT, LOCKE.

No. 

WHY NOT JUST LET JANE OFF HER?

NO!

SEND HER BACK TO THE DUST WITH HER BROTHER.

OR YOU COULD ALWAYS DO IT YOURSELF.

I clenched my fists. Dr. Hendrix had crept her way to the bullet-ridden console and made futile attempts to restore power to the Iron Gate. The 43^rd reloaded his weapon and aimed it in my direction. Jane stood menacingly, sights set on Jillian. John had his gun trained on the 43^rd.

Ira…winked?

The bracelet of vines around my wrist vibrated, then tugged in John’s direction. I snapped my sights on the Cyclonebranded.

“John…” I drew out his name, eyes flitting between Ira and him. Time slowed. What was Ira planning? The bracelet nudged again, pulsing in time with, what I assumed to be, Ira’s heartbeat. Almost like it was counting down. And then…

It stopped.

My fiancé braced himself as I sprinted towards Jillian. “John, now!”

And as if we’d planned it—why hadn’t we planned for scenarios like this?—John released a barrage of bullets at the same time a hurricane gale blew through, forcing its way through us all. Jillian screamed as her and her captive were lifted off their feet and flung back. Dr. Hendrix jumped out of the way just in time to avoid them  crashing into the console. Sparks flew, the only illumination amidst the eternal darkness of Avam. Ira wasted no time picking himself up from the chaos and rushing into the safety of my arms. 

I mouthed to John, “Are you okay?” I could feel his manipulation of the wind beginning to waver. He’d been doing it nonstop and I could see that it was beginning to drain him.

The Moriartys were scattered around the platform. Jane huffed. Her eyes never stayed too long on a single potential target, which only served to heighten the panic in each of our faces as she sank into the platform. The 43^rd watched in horror as she disappeared from sight. Jillian swung her blade wildly as she searched the ground for her hidden target. 

Dr. Hendrix attempted to complete her mission on the console Jillian and Ira had been slammed into. Since Jane was temporarily—and ominously—off the board, I focused on the Iron Gate. I bumrushed Dr. Hendrix and shoved her aside and began laying into the screens with my fists.

I didn’t care about the bruises forming on my knuckles or the glass from the screens embedding in my skin. Then I found myself on the ground as the 43^rd barreled into me. Just as I sprang to my feet, John let loose a few bullets, forcing distance between the father and I.

“WHERE IS SHE?!” Jillian shouted. The 44^th moved to stand behind her while the 43^rd flailed around. The Moriartys kept their eyes glued to the ground, waiting for their ghostly assassin to make herself known. 

She didn’t keep them waiting long. 

As Jane rose up behind the 43^rd, I made a dash towards the Moriartys, feeling more stupid than ever. I went from protecting Jane from them, to protecting them from Jane.

Watt wizzed by overhead and dropped something from a compartment. In seconds it expanded, vines bursting forth from what I could only assume had been the seeds Ira gave him. Thankfully Ira knew that attempting to deter Jane was futile. The now anaconda-sized vines dropped towards the 43^rd and he jumped out of the way just in time to avoid losing his heart to Jane.

Silence descended upon us as we collectively caught our breath, eyes trained on each other in anticipation of everyone’s moves. The 43^rd stood slowly, his sights trained on Jane who stood in sync with him. Jillian held her blade out with one hand, the other cradling her bruised shoulder. Ira stood behind me, one hand on my shoulder, our breaths heavy. John dropped his gun, his chest swelling with each labored breath. We were reaching our limits.

Dr. Hendrix whispered something too low for me to hear into a device in her hand. Moments later, groans and growls from the platform’s perimeter echoed up. The Risen shifted and, in a single file, began making their way up the platform.

“Dr. Hendrix, stop!” Before I could allow myself time to process the correct decision, I was sprinting towards her, sparks jumping from my feet with every step.

She stumbled back, but not far enough away. I ripped the device from her hands and, once again, without taking a second to process, smashed it on the ground beneath my foot. 

My heart fought to escape my chest with every pump, the air around us thick with tension and nerves.

YOU CAN’T SAVE THEM ALL.

Yes, I can!

The first Risen crested the top of the steps. It shambled forward, bringing a line of others with it. I couldn’t stop Jane, the Moriartys, Dr. Hendrix, and an army of Risen all at the same time. Smoke billowed up and the wind churned as Siege and the others did they best to handle the undead from their side. But it wasn’t enough. 

I looked up, catching sight of a balefire just as it peeked through the dark clouds. What I wouldn’t give for another wish to come true…Something to save us. But there were no more Karims in ships bringing fredom. There were no more meteor-sized cities holding the love of my life. The sky would not hold the answer this time…

My vision snapped onto the platform, letting the idea take hold for a moment before I shot a look to my utility bott companion. “Watt, tell Tremor to have all the Quakebranded lift the platform into the sky!” I masked my voice with the oh-so-familiar buzz, making it imperceptible to the others. He whizzed away over the throngs of shambling undead.

And the platform began to tremble.

“What did you do!?” the 44^th shouted with a glare meant to kill.

“John, make sure we don’t fall off!”

“What!?” His confusion was barely heard over the sound of the platform being ripped from soil. Everyone toppled and gripped the closest thing to them, losing their weapons in the process. The Risen who’d managed to make it aboard, unable to balance themselves, fell, plummeting into the large pit left behind. Sweat beaded on John’s face as the wind around us picked up.

I was somewhat pleased by the small victory, but I knew I was only delaying the inevitable. Jane was going to rip through the Moriartys, who would then fire on us. No doubt John or Ira or I would take hits in the process and lash back out in self-defense, killing at least one of them in the process. The Moriartys were hellbent on getting rid of us with a passion that had been simmering from generations. No matter how this played out, we’d lose. Every move I could think of required a sacrifice of some kind—either from my side or theirs. 

And I still had no idea how Malice fit into it all.

Jane righted herself and—fuck!—she used her Branding to sink her feet into the platform, stabilizing her. She approached a defenseless, downed Jillian. The 43^rd managed to grab his gun and uselessly fired bullets through her.

“Just…stop…please.” I choked out the words through labored breaths and the tears that suddenly started and wouldn’t stop. “You don’t have to hate.” I didn’t know who precisely I was speaking to: Jane or the Moriartys. Perhaps both. 

Jillian’s eyes flitted between Jane and myself before landing on me. “If we stop this, how can we be sure the rest of you won’t murder us?” She side-eyed Jane.

As the floating platform began to descend, I looked at Jane and pleaded with all that I had left. “Jane, please. Do not kill them.”

The 44^th made a pleased sound and smirked. “And trust me: us backing down now is purely for survival,” he said smugly. “A numbers game, if you will. You outnumber us. But the moment power is shifted back in our favor—”

“James!” Jillian lashed out.

The platform landed with a soft crunch and the collective sigh of Quakebrandeds filled the air. Jillian and her father held each other, eyeing the 44^th with disapproval.

“What? They are still a hostile plague, all of them. I do not want our temporary surrender to make them believe I will go peacefully. And besides, that one seems rabid.” The 44^th playfully waved at Jane, who huffed and took an intimidating step forward.

“Jane,” I said, quickly approaching her, blocking her view of the Moriartys. Taking a calculated risk, I placed both of her hands over my racing heart. “We can still expose them, destroy all their research. Anything that doesn’t involve killing them, please.” She tugged at her hands, but I kept my grip on them.

So she ripped her hands through mine, phasing through me like I was nothing. She scowled and moved to stand at the platforms edge, overlooking the other Branded.

“Did you all hear what your fearless leader said?” She cut a look at me, her bloodied hand pointing in my direction. “The Moriartys have surrendered—temporarily, confirmed by the 44^th himself. They have hunted us down, captured us, tortured us, killed us! And Locke just wants to set them free? He wants to embarrass them publicly, but this family doesn’t care. We tried that with Jack and all it did was make the war happen sooner. They’re just going to keep coming after us. A year from now, when they’re still capturing us, torturing us, killing us, we will have wished we did something about them all sooner.”

“Jane, stop!” John rushed over to her. His hand went through her and she paid him no mind.

“I did what I needed to do to make the world—make the Forge a better place,” she continued, still addressing her captive audience. “I killed Jack Moriarty, the man who kidnapped me and threatened my family. The man who wanted to use me as a weapon in a war I have no interest in.”

My heart dropped. She was planting so much doubt in them. And what scared me the most was that it was working on me, too. She was, once again, right about everything. We had tried to stop Jack my way before, and all it did was make things worse for us. There was a shred of hope for Jillian. Perhaps she would back down. Maybe her father, too. But the 44^th James Moriarty was…evil. Jane spoke with such passion and heart that, despite ultimately failing her, I couldn’t help but ironically feel proud. She’d seen me grow so much stronger during our time together, and she learned from everything I’d done. I just wished the moment she chose to reveal herself and her capability with her words was a different one. All of them would be slain if she had her way.

“But,” she said, “because I respect Locke Holmes, I will compromise. I will not kill them, but we will not save them. They are not leaving Avam.”

Murmurs burst forth from the crowd, exciting applause and a few cheers. 

Jillian recoiled. “So you’re just going to leave us here to rot?!”

“You all left so many others here to rot. You can wither and die in a prison of your own making.” Jillian spat on the ground between them before walking through John towards the Moriartys. I could sense John trying to manipulate the air but he had to be running on fumes by now. The father stepped in front, pushing Jillian behind him as the 44^th watched with curiosity. Jane plunged a hand through the father and pulled Jillian, then grabbed the 44^th as well, tugging them along with her as the father screamed out for her to stop.

What the hell was she doing?

Thunder crashed overhead and dread washed over me. I looked out over the crowd as Jane hauled her victims to the platform’s edge. She tossed them to their knees and stood over them, a look of terror on Jillian’s face while her brother looked more annoyed than anything. 

The dread seized my nerves, sending chills all through my body. I was certain: I was missing something, again. But what? I searched for a sign high and low.

Tick fidgeted with his hands, his eyes darting through the crowd and to the sky, as if looking for the same thing as me. When our eyes met, the fear in his face consumed me.

THE LAST KING.

“The last king,” Jane said, kicking the 44^th back down to his knees as he tried to stand. ”And—“

THE LAST QUEEN.

“—the last queen of the Moriartys! They have lost. Their wretched courts are devoured by us—”

WOLVES.

“—the wolves.”

The Branded, swayed by Jane’s doubt, cheered at the victory.

A new fear emerged within me. Why had I thought of Jane’s words before she said them? Why had the annoying voice of self-doubt, despair, and uncertainty lined up so much with her monologue?

Blood curdling screams burst from the Risen, drowning out the cheers as everyone eyed the undead. The Risen trapped under the platform broke through the ground, stopping upon reaching the surface just to add their screams to the cacophony with no mouths or organs. In the distance, more screams, as Risen slowly crested the horizon.

“What the fuck is going on?” John said. Ira gripped my hand.

And then Michael appeared before me. His sadness and fear radiated off of him. “The last Misery,” he said. “Jane completed the last—AAAHHHHH!!!” Michael’s screams added to the haunting sounds filling the air.

I pressed the butt of my palm to my head, a headache causing my eyes to water.

Jane winced, giving Jillian and the 44^th time to rush back to their father.

Tick fell to his knees, holding his head in both hands. A handful of other captives did as well.

KILL HIM.

KILL HIM.

KILL THE 44^TH!

The Risen’s screams turned into a vicious snarl as every undead looked in his direction.

Jane looked. Tick looked. The few Branded who seemed affected by the screams looked, too.

Had they all heard that?

John and Ira didn’t seem to notice. Neither did Siege or Hush or Tremor or many of the other Branded.

Then why—

The Risen scrambled, much more quickly than I’d ever seen them before. It was clear now to anyone watching who they were after, and the 44^th took no time in putting himself first. He shoved both Jillian and Dr. Hendrix in his path as he ran. The 43^rd quickly pulled Jillian out of harms way, but Dr. Hendrix was trampled by the Risen. I could barely hear her scream before she was pulverized under the weight of the undead.

The 44^th jumped off the platform and tumbled onto the ground. The sea of Risen fell over themselves as they streamed down the sides after him. The entirety of Avam shook, as if someone had bumped into the planet, causing everyone and everything to fall, including the Risen.

Including the 44^th. 

The Risen, barely affected by the sudden loss of balance, scrambled back to their feet or clawed their way forward, eventually gripping the 44^th’s leg and pulling him into their embrace. He screamed, hands reaching out to me and to his family for help, but he had pushed anyone who could help him away as he fled out of reach. Within seconds, his ear piercing screams were silenced. 

The Risen, having completed their task, all came to a startling stop and stood motionless.

“James…” Jillian reached a hand out from where she stood, eyes watery, breath shaky. “JAMES!”

Her father wrapped her in his arms. “I’m so sorry, sweety. I—” As he looked to the desecrated body of his oldest son, the father’s words caught in his throat. 

I followed his gaze and stumbled back in time with Ira and John who were equally shocked at what we were seeing.

James was standing.

He was a Risen now, just like his younger brother. Jillian burst into even more tears at the sight of him. The flesh on one of his arms had been mostly ripped away and his face was bloodied and scarred. His suit was left tattered, the tie wrapped around his neck mostly gone now. His eyes had quickly turned grey and lifeless.

But the dread seeped in more as Jillian’s screams came to an abrupt stop. My heart raced faster and faster. I took a few steps closer to the edge of the platform, unsure of what exactly I was seeing.

James dusted himself off.

And unlike every other Risen I’d encountered, he began approaching the platform. Not by shambling, but walking, as if he was alive. The Risen standing in his way parted a path, and the Risen that lay piled up on the side of the platform still remained, allowing James to step up with ease.

Jillian and her father—all of us, actually—watched in horror as the partially eaten, but mostly whole, James the 44^th stopped once he rejoined us on the platform. He looked over all us.

And smiled.

He sighed and clapsed his hands together in front of him. “Detective. You are just predictable. To a fault.”

Every cell in my body was telling me to leave. Right now.

“Don’t leave now, Detective. You’re the whole reason I’m here.”

…Was he reading my thoughts?

“James?” Jillian managed to say, her voice weak, twinged with a bit of hope. But whatever was in his body right now was not her brother. They may have had the same voice, but this was different. 

The man before us was not the 44^th.

“You know who I am, Locke Holmes. After all, you are the infamous Detective.” The thing smirked.

“What is he talking about?!” Jillian cried out. “Detective, what is wrong with my brother!?”

Deja vu struck, hard, but I couldn’t pinpoint why.

“A plague and a savior,” the thing said. “A man of many, many names.” It giggled, sending shivers down my spine. “You don’t recognize me?”

“Whoever you are, get out of my brother, now!”

It cut her a look. She recoiled into her father’s arms, then he rolled his eyes. “Ignore this shell. It is a means to an end. A millenia-long plan finally come to fruition.”

A wave of familiarty hit once more and all that I was missing finally fell into place. It had happened such a long time ago, but once I knew what I was seeing, it all came back to me.

Knowing made me that much more terrified.

“We need to go, now!” I grabbed Ira and John.

“Locke, what’s going on? Who is this?” Jane asked.

“Why, I am the voice in your head when times get rough. I’m the one guiding your path, pushing you this way and that.”

I rushed down the platform, Ira and John in tow. They didn’t question the fear in me, thankfully. They’d learned to trust my instincts. But the Risen closed off our way forward, separating us from Siege and the other freed Branded. I threw my hands out, arms stretched wide to protect my loved ones. 

Icy fear flooded my veins. I knew what was going to happen next.

“Go on. Spit it out.”

I turned my head to face the monstrosity wearing the 44^th’s body and swallowed loudly. All of my worst fears were coming true.

“Say it, Detective.”

And, just as I had forsaw, I replied, “Malice.”

A nightmarish grin stretched across the 44^th’s face, just as I saw in my vision, and he nodded in agreement.

“So glad you’re all caught up.”

Next week on ⚡️THUNDERFANG:

With the last Misery completed, Malice has returned.