Chapter 26: In Over My Head

Thank the universe!

Although Tiny Jem’s weapon fired a large pattern of orangish spectral buckshot at me, it was nowhere near as explosive as the blast that leveled Hellie. Unlike his first shot, the second shot tipped him off balance.

It was super obvious that his candy platter was affecting his abilities.

I easily blocked the lesser discharge with my palm shield, which spread out in an overcompensating geo-magical shape that was a mix of blue tones.

Dammit, I have to learn how to control my magic. Large expenditures like that could deplete my levels quickly.

Instinctively, I attacked with a push spell, taking advantage of his blitzed mental state. I swung my arm, and my whole body flowed into the movement. Tiny Jem brutally flew into the kitchen adjoining the great room, just out of sight from my position. The resounding commotion indicated that he had hit hard, but I had no hopes that he was incapacitated, no matter how violently the push had whacked him.

I quickly checked on Hellie. She was breathing heavily but unconscious. I ran my hand across her fur, and shockingly, there were no signs of a wound. I expected her ribcage to have been blown out. But whatever energy hit her, it wasn’t physical—at least not externally. I suspected that Tiny Jem had the ability to alter his weapon’s energy to strike without damaging his prize collection.

I was tough shit with Hellie backing me, but with her out of the picture, my edge had severely tapered. I suspected her regenerative healing factor would kick in at any moment, so I reluctantly moved alone to face Tiny Jem.

He remained silent and hadn’t come from the kitchen to counterattack.

If I’m lucky, maybe he’s out cold.

Skeptical about that thought, I cautiously moved toward the kitchen. On the way, I glanced up at the movie blades over the fireplace—they were beautiful and lethal. You know it’s terrible when you think more about looking cool using a sword than using one for protection. But who was I kidding? I had no sword training. I’d get killed attempting to fight with one of those, but they gave me an idea.

I stepped over the threshold of the kitchen. I had a little surprise for my prey suspended in the air behind my back. The moonlight from the glass wall to my right kept the room from being absorbed into complete darkness, and revealed remnants of a destroyed kitchen table, chairs, and accessories spreading out in pieces on the floor.

Tiny Jem was nowhere in sight.

I didn’t understand how he moved out of the wreckage without my hearing.

Is he cloaked in invisibility?

I remained alert, but there were no signs of him. I turned and shot a penetrating look at the corridor at the edge of the room.

I refused to move in that direction. The space was too narrow—a perfect killing zone for a man with a magical shotgun.

“You’re a loser, Billy.” Tiny Jem’s voice seemingly flashed from different directions in the room. I reacted by turning my head toward the varied sources.

“Aren’t you the same loser that Dane had us all humiliate the other day? Hocus pocus. Abracadabra.”

I quickly realized Tiny Jem was speaking in my mind. Gluttony had done the same in the woods when he told me he knew my sins.

“I’m curious why you, the king of street magic fails, even think you have the skills to kill me. Is it because of your weak female pet hellhound? You don’t even have the willpower to control her.”

I didn’t respond. I kept myself sharp, waiting for an attack.

“Aren’t you the same loser that ran home to his friends crying? You can’t stand up to a bully like Dane. So what hope do you have against me?”

I knew he was trying to get under my skin, and sadly, it was working. The repeated mention of The Nameless One cut deep into my ego and fears.

“Is The Nameless One a part of this?!”

Tiny Jem laughed in response and sung out the words, “Hocus Pocus. Abracadabra.”

“Stop hiding, shlumpy bastard. Come out!”

“Gladly.”

The loud boom of his shotgun bellowed. But Tiny Jem hadn’t come from his hiding spot; instead, the orange glowing pellets, now behaving and appearing differently, arced around the corner in the corridor, leaving a luminous trail behind them—seemingly locked on me. Unfortunately for him, the act betrayed his position. As a counter, I responded by thrusting my hand around and outward, hurling the three blades from behind me in the direction I suspected Tiny Jem was hiding.

After the swords penetrated the wall like butter, Tiny Jem screamed in pain. “Ahhhhhhhh!”

The might of the push briefly paused the deadly energy coming toward me and crumbled the walls between the kitchen, the great room, and the inner corridor, leaving behind a gaping open space in the interior. Once the push spell faded, the energy from Tiny Jem’s weapon slammed against the shield I barely erected, forcing me to grunt from the strain.

“Dammit.”

I poured all my willpower into keeping the shield from collapsing. The first time I used the protection, it was easy. But this time, unfortunately, it felt almost impossible to maintain.

After the orange energy dissipated, I regained my composure and returned to the great room. I stood there for a moment, looking. The push spell had demolished the whole back wall, exposing the nearly destroyed other rooms in the ranch-style home.

Mixed in with the groans, I heard Tiny Jem muttering. Most of it was inaudible, so I dared to walk closer to listen and to get a better view. I wouldn’t have attempted it if the wreckage hadn’t had him pinned.

As I zeroed in on his location among the debris, I began to understand his soft, desperate whispering.

“Please. Please. I’m in pain, and I’m high as hell. Take over. I’m sorry for trying to handle this myself. I’m sorry for interrupting you. I won’t do it again.”

I noticed one of the blades from my attack.

The holy sword’s hilt protruded from the wall slab covering Tiny Jem. I tugged at it several times, but it was stuck. Finally, to Tiny Jem’s misfortune, the sword came out after I stomped hard on the pile and yanked forcefully.

Tiny Jem screamed in agony.

The outcry and blood running down the blade showed me I had gutted the fucker. Despite not knowing how badly he was injured, I felt exhilarated by the success of my attack. I looked over for Hellie, but to my surprise, she was gone.

“Hellie. Hellie!”

I reached out through our mental connection, but I didn’t feel her.

Hellie?

Suddenly, the pile beneath me shook, forcing me off balance. Not even a second later, the debris exploded outward, propelling me back. As I tumbled, I dropped the sword. It slid a good fifteen feet away. Lying on the floor, I immediately noticed the sensations of sharp and blunt pain caused by the shrapnel and explosion beating at my body.

Gluttony floated upward, entirely metamorphosing into his enormous, bulbous entity form. As he hovered almost to the ceiling, I saw a crown of horns on top of his head, piercing through the whisps of grey smoke that encompassed and shrouded a large portion of his body. He looked down at me with cold red eyes, squinting just beyond a large pig snout and the faint edges of tentacles whipping about from his face. I know it was a horrible place for humor, but I rejoiced that the smoke was covering his Johnson.

“Losers are always losing something!” Gluttony was back to speaking directly to my thoughts.

“Screw you, Tiny Jem.” Instead of acknowledging Gluttony, I spoke directly to Tiny Jem. Summoning all my strength, I jumped up and pushed over the superhero display case closest to me.

“Stop ruining my collectibles. Get out of my house!” Gluttony’s form shouted using Tiny Jem’s voice.

At his command—there was no discharge of energy, absolutely nothing visible that I could detect—my body flew backward and crashed through the glass wall of the house. The impact velocity tossed me at least twenty something yards from the house.

I strongly believed the shield buff I performed as a precaution saved me from extensive broken bones and a concussion. I was in even more pain than I had been just minutes ago, but I wasn’t dead. My clothing suffered the most, ripped to shreds—thinly attached tatters flapped all over. And since my black mesh mask was destroyed, I ripped it off.

Despite the setback, I smiled to myself.

Tiny Jem had given me a means of attack—thousands of thousands of glass shards were all over the ground, and I was about to send them all hurling at him in a hailstorm. It was a great fucking idea, except I was too far away. And with the rack of the Boomstick, followed by its loud rocking blast, I had to go on the defensive.

I drove my palm forward, instantly forming a barrier, but the impact of the blast reverberated across my nerves, spiking with the pain of a thousand needles.

The agony made concentrating and holding the barrier hard.

Gluttony floated across the broken seal of the glass wall, slowly making its way out of the house to meet me. The blasts of its shotgun rang out incessantly, one after another. The onslaught pinned me down. I feared if I moved—or tried to run—I would lose my shield. And if that happened, I would be gone.

I knew at some point my reckless depletion of magic would come back to bite me because it had earlier in the woods, but I couldn’t control the expenditures. Worse yet, I had no idea how long the effectiveness of the shield would last.

Fifty feet away, the width of my shield lessened.

“Malvic, you were wrong about me not having any influence over you. Our connection runs deep. Some people are gluttons for food, and others are gluttons for material objects. But you are a glutton for failure. You can’t exist without failing!”

Although Gluttony didn’t laugh, I sensed the roast seething from his goopy tones within my head.

“You didn’t come here tonight to kill me. You came here tonight to lose. So I could clean up your mistake of reading The Tome.”

Thirty feet away, the width of my shield lessened.

“See this shotgun? It’s my Auracroft. If you were serious about taking me out, you would have brought your Auracroft and more than a handful of spells.”

“I must admit, coming to kill you was a bit of a rush job. But Hellie was adamant.”

Hellie, I need you! Hellie?

“Who’s the master—you or that bitch? Hellhounds are wild, dumb beasts. All they know is to attack and destroy. The finesse in their kills is all in their training. You’re in way over your head. Admit it!”

Fifteen feet away, his shots slowed, but the width of my shield still lessened. He knew the entire time, exactly what it would take to deconstruct my defensives.

“You’ve failed your hellhound. You’ve failed yourself.”

Seven feet away, Gluttony racked his shotgun, fired a single blast, and racked again. My shield had utterly faded. I was exposed. The pain overwhelming me, mixed with the strain of protecting myself from the onslaught of attacks, didn’t lend itself to flight; it left me on my knees.

“And what is the most profound failure in your heart?”

Gluttony’s smoke-covered boar-like hooves touched down on the ground, and he stood over me. Gently, placing the tip of his shotgun on my head, he said, “Now that is sad. You failed your dead mother.”

“Leave my mother out of this!”

At the crescendo of my rage, Gluttony pulled the trigger. The ear-splitting sound of the Boomstick thrashed against my eardrums, and a sea of orange flooded my vision.