Chapter Text
“Let’s do this to begin with. I’ll go down there and I’ll put water in the lower portion to hopefully cushion our fall.” Martyn set down a stream of water into the pit and dropped in, riding the tide to the bottom.
In the pit, his boots slipped over shadowed cobblestone. Strange that someone would replace the floor. If they were filling it in, they couldn’t have done more than a single layer because the treacherous hole was just as deep as Martyn remembered.
Martyn poured water over the rocks and had just called up for the Doc to lower a second stream for Martyn to swim up, when a faint dripping noise caught his attention. Water was seeping through the cobblestone into a hollow space. He looked down. Was there something under there? Cocking his head, he pulled out his pickaxe.
“Come on, Martyn.” Doc’s voice echoed down the chasm.
“Yeah, yeah, just…” Martyn’s answer faded off as he heard a slow scraping against stone join the dripping. Then a low growl, warped by the buffer of water and stone came from beneath Martyn’s feet. “Guys?! Something’s down here!”
“What? What are you talking about?” Apo peered down.
“There’s something under the–AAAH!” Martyn screeched, back slamming into the side of the pit, as the cobblestone in front of him cracked and crumpled away.
A jet black arm burst from the ground like a zombie rising from its grave. Long wicked claws curled over the stones around it and pulled, tearing chunks of cobblestone into the abyss below.
“Go go go! Something’s already here!” Martyn scrambled for the water stream and kicked up as fast as he could.
“Everyone around the beacon!” Legs ordered.
Apo and Ren grabbed Martyn’s hands and pulled him over the edge of the pit. Abolish fell in line behind Martyn as they all scrambled deeper into the crypt. A dissonant wail rose behind them.
“What is it?” Pearl asked.
Martyn couched closer to the warmth of the beacon and drew his sword. “A vampire, I think? I didn’t get a good look.”
“Well, they are very outnumbered if they decide to fight.” Abolish calmly hefted a silver net.
A dark blur shot up from the pit, slamming into the ceiling above with a thunderous crack. Pebbles and dust rained down, obscuring the form crouched against the crypt bricks. Martyn’s mouth went dry as large leathery wings spread open and blocked the sunlight. Narrow purple slits, like tales of endermen, burned to life in the mass of shadows. A long warbling hiss rattled through the room. Then a spindly claw reached out and the creature began crawling along the ceiling toward them.
“That is not a vampire!” Apo bared her fangs.
“No, it is not.” Abolish frowned.
Ren swore. "Is there no end to this land's evil?!"
The beacon pulsed and Martyn’s limbs felt lighter, his chest warmer. The other humans straightened up at the wave of strength, though Apo scooted further away with a nauseous grimace. The beast on the ceiling flinched back, its steady approach halted. A good sign. The beacon weakened this monster just the same as vampires.
Then it flipped down to the floor, landing in a crouch. The figure once upon a time wore a shirt and vest, now torn to bloody shreds, obsidian claw marks and the rust-colored end of a stake protruding from its chest. Its massive wings swept over the stonework, blowing bits of moss and spiderwebs to the edges of the tomb, guttering torches. It lifted its head, revealing a pair of twisted black horns, tangled grey and white hair, and a panting mouth of sharp teeth all set within a hauntingly familiar face.
“Avid?” Legs whispered, a wretched expression on his face.
Pearl took a step back. “W-what’s happened to him?”
For a strange suspended moment, Avid’s eyes skated vacantly over their group, then they fastened onto Martyn and he let out an ear-ringing inhuman scream. Martyn yelped and lifted his shield as a lightning fast set of claws slashed down on him. His arm went numb and he heard wood splinter, then Abolish was dragging him to the ground.
Everyone was shouting. Martyn pushed himself up in time to see Avid backhand Ren across the room. The others had scattered as far away as they could, weapons raised. Abolish grabbed Martyn’s shoulder, pulling him back from sprinting after Ren. Pearl hefted a bottle of holy water. Then with a roar, Avid rose up and slammed both fists down into the beacon. For a short moment, Martyn could hear the squeal of glass warping, then there was a crunch and his ears popped. The warm buttery light of the beacon was snuffed out. Martyn felt a wave of exhaustion and fear seep back into his bones. Avid slumped and the crypt was silent, save for the humans breathing.
“Hello? What did we just walk in on?” Scott’s cool voice cut into the darkness.
Avid pulled back his hands; glass shards tinkled to the ground. In the mouth of the crypt, Scott and Pyro stood at the edge of the pit looking in on the scene with amused expressions.
“What is that?” Pyro narrowed their eyes at Avid.
Avid’s head cocked to the side and he slowly turned to face them. Both their smiles evaporated. Scott seemed to freeze, so unnaturally still, he could have been a statue. Pyro jerked back, eyes wide with dawning horror, and began to shake.
“You…” Martyn nearly missed it, mistaking the word for a growl. Avid’s voice was raw and reverberated with something almost musical, like a single discordant note dragged out below each syllable. “You.. promised!”
Avid barreled out of the tomb, propelling himself with a single flap of his wings. Scott and Pyro lunged away as black claws scored the earth where they stood moments before. Martyn could hear the snapping of branches and a terrified scream fade into the distance outside.
He climbed to his feet and rushed over to Ren, who was still limp on the ground, heart pounding against his chest. “Ren! Are you okay?!”
Ren groaned and struggled to put his legs under himself. “Feels like I been run over by a carriage, Mr. Woodhurst. But I’ll be fine, don’cha know.”
“I thought Avid was dead!” Apo hissed.
Doc was still staring at the empty entrance to the crypt. “There’s a stake in his chest.”
“Look what he did to the beacon.” Pearl said.
Martyn and the others looked at the center of the room. The large glass sphere and obsidian base were completely shattered. In the first couple weeks in Oakhurst, more than a couple townsfolk attempted to mine the beacons, just to see what might happen, but no tools could even scratch the glass; a powerful energy turned their picks away every time. Now no mystical light (not warm orange, pale white or crimson red) remained.
“What does that mean?” Martyn asked. “Are we free? Or are we trapped forever?”
Abolish turned his frown from the demolished beacon to the sunlight streaming into the crypt. “Only one way to find out.”