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Grimoires & Gunsmoke: The Ohio Incident Ch. 21
🕑 Added 2023-11-06 12:06:07 +0000 UTCElijah furrowed his brow as he stared up at the strange dark marble-like spire that pierced up from the earth before him.
It stood like a sinister monolith, its smooth, yet impossibly dark surface nearly completely absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. The thing was as if it were a shard of darkness itself, implanted into the ground as an insult to the sun.
However, what really sparked Elijah’s interest wasn’t the material of its strange construction, but the destroyed landscape around it. Almost as if it had suddenly and violently erupted from the ground…
Scratching his head, Elijah looked around and saw enormous trees, uprooted and tossed around as if they were nothing but twigs. Turning his attention back to the base of the spire, he then set his eyes on what was left of a shattered rock formation, seemingly turned to glass hugged on to the structure's impossibly smooth voidlike surface. It was obvious that the rock formation had been sitting on top of where this thing came out of, but now it was as if the spire had absorbed the very essence of the geological features around it, leaving behind a crystalline residue that shimmered with a strange, unnatural light.
The juxtaposition of light or energy being absorbed while simultaneously trying to escape left Elijah unnerved as his mind raced to reconcile the scene before him with any known natural phenomenon. However, the medic was educated enough to realize what he was looking at just wasn't right. There was no word in his vocabulary that could adequately describe the aberration before him, it was as if this spire was an abomination, an affront to the natural order of the world, a physical impossibility that defied the rules he had come to understand about his environment.
“Please… help…” The ever so slight whisper seemed to slither through the air, bypassing his ears and resonating directly within his mind. Elijah winced, pressing the heel of his palm against his temple as if he could physically squeeze out the intrusion. “... Release me.”
Elijah’s head snapped around looking for anyone in ear shot, but he found himself alone. Only the throbbing hum of rotor blades cutting through the air or the mixed units that had participated in the air assault could be heard.
He blinked for a few moments in an attempt to clear his mind.
It must be the lack of sleep…
They had been on the edge for days as they observed this place and if one went too long without proper rest, well then the human mind could conjure all sorts of tricks under stress. And yet, as he took a step back, a pang of... was it guilt?... tugged at his chest. Elijah felt as if there was a desperate and sorrowful plea for freedom called so earnestly, that it had pierced through the layers of his exhaustion and skepticism.
Glancing back at the spire, Elijah felt a strange kinship with it. Maybe it was his own desire for a break from the chaos of this reality that made him imagine this voice and empathize with it. Or perhaps, there really was… something trapped within that alien column of darkness, reaching out to him specifically.
However, Elijah couldn’t quite figure out why as he looked around to see the veritable army around him. They had landed without no resistance and no enemy presence except for the corpses from the earlier raid. Instead of a quick reaction force quickly securing the area like they planned for, they were met with bizarre creatures with forms and movements alien to their world, scavenging amongst the fallen.
Elijah tilted the headphones hinged on his helmet and rubbed his temples, but suddenly a voice resounded next to him, causing the medic to nearly jump out of his skin.
“Hey Eli, go touch it.” Bennett’s called out right next to the medic.
For a microsecond, Elijah entertained the idea before he turned his head to look at Bennett with an expression that spoke of disbelief bordering on incredulity. “What the fuck? No.” He replied with a tone that suggested he thought Bennett was an idiot. “How about you fuckin’ touch it?”
Bennett chuckled dryly, the smirk on his face faltering a bit as he too turned to look back at the spire. "C’mon, you could be the chosen one or some shit and get some funky powers!”
“Shut up, dipshit.” Elijah replied almost deadpan as he turned away. “The only thing I’m chosen to do is your mom.”
The retort drew a chuckle from Bennett as the medic walked away shaking his head. Even though he knew it was a joke, he couldn’t quite believe how anyone would willingly touch that goddamn thing. Elijah made his way over to where his team leader, Coleman, was deep in discussion with a commander from the ranger company who spearheaded the raid.. The two men were huddled over what looked like an alien map, their expressions were a mixture of confusion and caution.
"...just doesn't make any sense," Coleman was saying, picking up several more documents and scrolls. "Why the hell would they just leave all this shit here instead of burning it or taking it with them.”
The ranger commander, Major William Sutton, scratched his chiseled chin "Doesn't make any sense to me either, they had plenty of time, so there’s no real explanation.” He replied, looking over at the other strange magical items scattered around. “I would say this is a trap, but… where’s the trap part?”
With his gaze wandering back to the spire, Sutton continued, "I mean, if it's a trap, it's poorly executed. No follow-up, no ambush, nothing.”
Coleman poked at a small, strangely ornate device at the end of the table before turning to see Eli standing there. “You find anything useful?”
“Uhhh… not really.” Elijah shrugged as his gaze drifted over to the device Coleman had been fiddling with. "Just more questions more than anything else.”
Elijah then spotted several flasks of all sizes with strange glowing liquids in them. “Everything here is kind of out of my frame of reference other than video games and media.” He gestured towards the flasks with his chin. "I mean, these could be potions that heal you or give you power, but I wouldn’t rely on media logic if you know what I mean.
“Without the right equipment or knowledge, they might as well be radiation in a bottle." The medic's voice was tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern. "And that," he pointed at the spire, "is giving me serious 'do not touch' vibes." He lied.
In truth, Elijah was still drawn to the spire, that pitiful voice still echoed in his mind like a silent plea. He could almost feel the pull of it, like a tide beckoning him to wade into unknown waters. Despite his dismissal to Bennett, the medic couldn't shake the feeling of a presence within the spire, something sentient and aware. It felt imprisoned, yes, but more than that, it felt wronged, as if betrayal had led to its confinement.
Shaking his head, Elijah turned his attention back to his team leader and Major Sutton. He had to pay attention and push his intrusive thoughts out until he could properly figure it out. “I get it though, the area looked like a stage set after the actors had long departed.” Elijah said, walking over to the flasks and picking up a specific one with a bright orange glow. “Props left in disarray with no discernible logic, maps and battle plans strewn across the table.”
He tilted the flask in his hand, causing the thick yet viscous liquid to gently slosh about. Another curiosity that his subconscious begged him to explore, but caution stayed his hand. This wasn’t a video game where Elijah could just respawn and or revive. It was a stupid thought, but at least this one was his own.
Bennett sauntered over, his eyes flickering at all the strange equipment in the tent. “You guys find anything?” He asked after clapping a hand onto Elijah’s shoulder,
“Ya, maps, trinkets and potions or some shit.” Coleman replied, poking at another oddity.
Major Sutton picked up another and even smaller flask with blue glowing liquid that would become brighter whenever it moved. “Lab rats are gonna have a field day with this garbage.” The Ranger commander said with a raised eyebrow
“Man they’d be on this like a fat kid on ice cream.” Elijah agreed with a chuckle as he carefully placed the orange-glowing flask back onto the makeshift table. “I can’t blame them to be honest, I really want to know what this stuff is too-” His gaze inadvertently wandered back to the spire and fell upon a figure slowly approaching it. “Who the fuck is that?”
Elijah's voice trailed off mid-sentence as his eyes narrowed. Standing in front of the spire was a soldier dressed in the familiar garb of camo like the rest of them, yet details weren’t quite… right. The pattern on the uniform was a jigsaw that didn't quite fit together; it mimicked their own but was just a shade too dark, a line too straight or overlapped in ways that wasn’t standard. Not only that the individual’s gear was almost a caricature of standard issue equipment, pouches where no pouch should be, holsters where there should be any, and the shapes of his weapon had been exaggerated as if drawn by someone who had only heard descriptions but never actually seen them.
No one else from Elijah’s ODA or the mixed units of Rangers, Marines, or SEALs was anywhere near the spire. They were spread out, establishing a perimeter, or sifting through the chaos of left-behind alien artifacts. This figure was an anomaly, an outlier that sent a silent shockwave of alert through Elijah's already frazzled senses.
The medic felt the curious glances of his teammates as they followed his line of sight to the misplaced soldier. The foreignness of the individual’s gear wasn’t lost on them either especially since the odd man seemed to be alone.
“Does he belong to one of the other units?” Sutton asked, his voice lined with the authority of command but edged with the uncertainty the sight warranted.
Before anyone could answer, Elijah snapped his weapon towards the individual and flipped off his safety. “STOP!” The man bellowed, pushing his way out of the tent. “TAKE ONE MORE STEP AND I’LL FUCKING WASTE YOU!”
The figure halted, but it was already directly in front of the spire. The strange soldier's hands remained at its side nor did it show any indication that it understood the threat, instead it just stood there, eerily still, as if waiting for something to happen.
A horrid chill ran Elijah’s spine as he adjusted the rifle in his grip. The tension in the air could have been cut with a knife, and despite the confusion of everyone in the encampment, the discipline drilled into each soldier kept the situation from devolving into chaos. Everywhere around them activity seemed to slow as more eyes found the scene unfolding by the spire. Some soldiers, unsure of the threat, began to align their weapons with Elijah's stance, while others continued to scan the horizon, their bodies tight with the stress of potential conflict from any direction.
Whispers and muttered questions were lost in the sound of sand crunching under boots and the occasional metallic click of a safety being disengaged. Everyone waited for a cue from their commanders or the mysterious figure itself.
“HANDS! SHOW ME YOUR FUCKING HANDS!” Elijah ordered, while the low hum of the spire kept on spewing energy into the rift. However, that hum seemed to rise in pitch,a detail that didn’t go unnoticed by the more detail oriented among them. It was as if the spire was… excited and was screaming in excitement that was just on the cusp of human hearing.
Major Sutton stepped beside Elijah with his own weapon pointed at the figure. "Hold your fire," he said calmly, yet loud enough for those nearby to hear. "Keep him covered, but nobody fires unless I give the word."
He turned slightly to address one of his men without taking his eyes off the figure. "Get me comms with the other units. I want to confirm if anyone's missing a man."
Elijah kept his weapon trained on the figure, the order to hold fire battling with his instinct that screamed that something was fundamentally wrong. The figure had yet to make another move, but its mere presence was an intrusion that set his every nerve on edge.
“If he doesn’t move, I don’t shoot.” Elijah replied as he attempted to steady his nerves. His finger slid off the receiver and hovered over the trigger, an action that was both one of escalation and self-restraint.
Every fiber of his being screamed at him to pull the trigger, he felt as if not killing what was in front of him was against every impulse in his body.
Coleman, who had been quietly observing from a few steps back, had never seen Elijah this spooked before. Even in the worst firefights, Elijah had always had this borderline sociopathic cool, calm and connectedness that seemed unflappable as a matter of fact, most of his rowdy behavior had been more for his own entertainment than anything else. But now, Coleman could see the lines of strain etched across his medic’s face, the way his eyes darted, searching for the slightest movement as a justification for action.
“Eli,” Coleman said quietly. “Don’t let whatever freaked you out get to your head, we need to handle this one step at a time. We don’t want a blue on blue.” He tried to soothe the obviously frazzled Elijah,
However, the man’s grip on his rifle didn’t wane. Whatever the hell he was aiming at, wasn’t part of their reality, not entirely. The alien nature of it clawed at Elijah's mind, urging him to act.
Major Sutton and his adjutant were deeply engrossed in their attempts to try and make sense of the headcount reports when the figure made a subtle, almost undetectable move. His arm remained by his side, but the faintest shimmer, like a heatwave on a hot road, suggested movement.
It was all the provocation Elijah needed. The pent-up tension, the raw edge of fear and uncertainty, exploded into action. Even though his ear protection wasn’t on. He didn't hear the deafening blast of the first pull of the trigger and was only aware of the recoil slamming into his shoulder as he unloaded round after round into the figure's back. The harsh staccato of suppressed gunfire erupted, shredding the tense and eerie calm.
Officers and soldiers alike reacted instantly, their yells of ‘Stand down!’ or ‘Elijah, cease fire!’ mixing with the echoes of gunfire. But their pleas fell on deaf ears as Elijah opted to close the distance, still repeatedly squeezing his trigger and unloading the entire magazine into the figures back.
Coleman ran forwards and tackled Elijah as readied a fresh mag and opened his mouth let out a scathing reprimand, but his shout was cut short as all attention snapped back to the spire. The dark energy pulsing from it stopped abruptly, as if Elijah's rounds had not just struck the figure, but had severed a lifeline to the ominous structure itself.
But that paled in comparison to the figure. The… thing had slowly gotten up with parts of its body twist and turning in impossible ways as the sounds of sickening cracks resounded throughout the area. A stunned silence fell over the field as everyone froze in place staring at the surreal scene. Elijah's ears rang and his chest heaved while in his peripheral vision, he saw rifles slowly raised again, confusion etching every face.
Sutton was the first to act as he ran out of the tent and raised his rifle. “WASTE IT!”
A cacophony of weapon fire erupted, a thunderous chorus of every caliber imaginable hammered into the unknown. The figure was now at the center of a maelstrom of lead, yet it moved with a jerky, otherworldly grace, unaffected by the barrage. Each step it took towards them felt like a descent into madness, its form distorting, shimmering with that same heat wave distortion, as if it was a tear in the very fabric of their reality, refusing to be mended.
Suddenly, a hellish laugh resounded across the battlefield, freezing the soldiers to their cores. The demonic figure, now fully revealed in its nightmarish glory, towered over them. It spoke again, the strange language twisting in their ears, but this time its intentions were clear. The malice in its voice required no translation.
“Well played!” The visage of violence itself laughed. “Well done human’s of another world! This servant of Alastor is impressed!”
Elijah, his previous fervor replaced with a cold dread, felt the weight of his rifle as a lifeline, the only tangible thing in a world that had slipped into the pages of some twisted fairytale. Around him, soldiers were backing away, their faces pale, their weapons lowered but still ready.
“It is not often I am bested so readily by mortals!” The demon continued to laugh as the reverberating growl of a voice seemed to mock the very act of speech. “Your fear gives you strength… interesting.” It said as its meter long claws scraped against the ground.
Despite the clear dismissal of their efforts as a mere amusement to the creature, there was a subtle shift in the air, a sense of grudging respect that was almost more terrifying than its scorn. The soldiers' continued gunfire seemed to do little but stir the dust at the creature's feet, and slowly, as if a silent command had been given, the firing ceased.
It was then Elijah broke free of Colemans grip when pulled out anM320 grenade launcher with its sights chopped off, slipped in a 40mm HEDP grenade and pulled the trigger. The weapon gave off a thoomp sound before the grenade slammed into the monster's face.
a deafening roar resounded as the round exploded on contact, sending a shockwave rippling through the air. The soldiers flinched, instinctively taking cover. They watched, a blend of hope and terror in their eyes, as the smoke cleared.
The demon stumbled back as its figure enshrouded in the dissipating smoke and dust, but the demon revealed itself once more. Its hand slid up and felt the gouge where the hypersonic jet of copper from the small shaped charge had left on its form, its interest piqued. Its hide, evidently, was impervious to conventional weaponry, but this had been different and it had definitely noticed the impact, however negligible.
“You, who are so quick to fire, do you not understand the futility?” the demon hissed, its gaze piercing into Elijah. The creature seemed more intrigued than threatened, its voice a rumble of distant thunder.
Elijah met the demon's gaze as he loaded another grenade "Your mom’s futile," he retorted.
The demon paused, its head tilting to the side as if processing the human's brazen defiance and peculiar insult. For a moment, a surreal silence hung over the battlefield, punctuated only by the distant crackling of energy from the now dormant spire. The soldiers held their breath, their grips tightening on their weapons.
Then, a sound that none expected: a low, guttural chuckle emanated from the demon. The laugh was devoid of warmth, a mocking acknowledgment of Elijah's audacity.
“No wonder she is insistent on choosing you!” The demon rumbled, its chuckles subsiding into a tone of dark amusement. “Very well, I shall grant you your lives as a token for your... spirited defense.” With a grandiose flourish, the demon extended a clawed hand towards the ominous spire where a strange dagger was embedded deep within its surface. The blade glowed with a strange fairy-like light, and even from a distance, they could feel energy pulsating from it.
The air around the covered dagger was indescribable as anything other than playful as the blade seemed to recognize its new custodians with a flicker of ethereal luminescence. The demon's gaze lingered on the soldiers around him and then on Elijah, who still stood defiantly with grenade launcher in hand, aimed directly at his face.
Without another word, the demon's form began to shift and contract, turning to flames that licked the air without consuming it. In mere seconds, the laughter ceased, the malevolence that hung thick like fog dissipated, and the being that had challenged reality itself was no more than a whisper of smoke curling into the sky.
Comments
scribbles
he'll talk shit even when he's about to die.
Tomat Past
Mfw Eli said "Your Mom" to the literal devil of magicland
scribbles
Actually , Alastor as scared of something else. A lot more spooky things out there and lady in the spire is responsible for uh... Quite a bit. You are correct, there are no good guys
He is, da chosen one! I'm sort of thinking that this is an "everyone is an asshole" situation. Including the (demon?) lady inside the spire. Assuming Alastor is telling the truth that she destroyed entire realms. It's also interesting that Alastor is scared of humanity, yet the demon was practically unscathed when a platoon laid into it with gunfire. I'm now curious how the US would handle the confirmed existence of demons. Probably would cause a bit of chaos.
