Collinsport. For too long the threat of the necromancer conspiracy against Collinswood had been nothing more than speculation. But last night Nichole Collins and Rhyaad de’Annar came face to face with the long sought after Nicholas Blair. Blair, the dangerous 17th century necromancer Simon Orne, had apparently been staying at the Collinsport Inn for over a month under the assumed name of Richard Garner. But the discovery of Blair’s whereabouts has only brought new and even more troubling questions as Simon Orne revealed his close association with Dr. Praetorius of the Diogenes Club. Contemporaries of Victor Frankenstein, working together – what other dark secrets about Dr. Praetorius does Orne have yet to reveal? And Dr. Praetorius’ allusion to the fact that somehow this was all a game – a game that had been going on for far longer that Nichole Collins could have suspected – and one of the pawns already sacrificed in this horrid game had been her guardian Dr. Julia Hoffman. Filled with anger and guilt, Nichole had decided in the early morning hours it was time to strike at Blair – time to engage in their game.

WARNING: Contains scenes fitting for an adult audience. Viewer Discretion is advised.

The Cranshaw House

Through the moonlit countryside, the old chip-and-tar Jerusalem Road wound its way northward toward the legend haunted Jerusalem Lot and much smaller, older hamlets nestled along the Maine coast. The skeletal arms of winter barren trees, encroaching ever closer along the curves, reach out, bowing their limbs over the highway, as if to suddenly grasp the long, black GTO convertible. Rhy renews his grip on the steering wheel – he hated necromancers.

Earlier their conversation, begun in the old house, concerning stealth and contingencies that they should rely upon, avenues of approach, how best to signal one another in the event something should go wrong – in the event of a catastrophe – had preoccupied them. But as they grew closer to their destination – they had gone silent. Each lost in their own anxious thoughts, Rhyaad watching the headlights illuminating the all but deserted highway – they had only passed two cars and an old pick-up – Meili all but hypnotized with the passing winter nightscape outside his passenger window. Just how powerful was this Blair – or Orne? Or whoever he was? He could not keep up with just who was who in this dizzying array of necromancers. He was only along for the ride – none of these men were the object of his vendetta. He only wanted his one chance at the Dark One – Nyarlathotep.

Around the dip and rise of the S-curve, the nearly hidden side road – rough and uneven— arrives unexpectedly as Rhy nearly misses it – downshifting – with Meili bracing himself against the dash as Rhyaad is able to just barely slow the GTO down enough to pull the heavy black car into the turn, and down the slight incline. Meili peers through the windshield, “This is even a road?” he asks.

Rhy fears going too far least he damage the undercarriage.

He shuts the engine off. They sit for a moment listening to the engine blocking cooling in the night. “Well—this is it.” Rhy says and opens his door.

Meili steps out and lets the cold winter wind blow through his blond hair. He looks around, then over the top of the car to Rhyaad, “North or South?”

“I’ll take south.” He says. Rhyaad did not want to go back along the bank of that lake – he still had haunted memories of that night in which he had found Nikki lying there in the blood soaked grass, stabbed and approaching her final death. Those anxious hours of being able to do nothing but sit there, watching, not knowing whether she would survive – and then the second horror to discover that her attacker had been none other than his dearest friend Medri Harker, who had been possessed by the demon bitch Lilith. Lilith who had murdered so many – had taken the life of dear, sweet Gwendolyn. Medri to this day had not full recovered from that possession. No, he did not need to walk along that bank, did not need to revive those memories. Not tonight. He did not need the distraction.

Through the maples and hemlocks, the winter dead underbrush, they moved quickly and quietly. The thief and the vampire. Meili branching off to his left as they move now toward the house from two directions – a more than safe reconnoiter. Rhyaad in his armor stepping lightly, an elfin ninja in the darken woods of Maine.

Once before he had traversed this darken path back when he and Nikki had done their own little late night B&E in search of the stolen films that had been taken from the Collinsport Cineplex – back when they had been trying to determine whether or not Natasha Snow was merely a platinum blonde gum-popping pornographic ditz of an accomplice, or the well-disguised mastermind, who had orchestrated the daring cinematic burglary. And now – here he was once again stalking thought the woods looking for those same d***ed horrid old films. They should have taken them long ago – now Blair had had time to build his defense.

If he survived this – he was d**n sure going to at least watch The Hounds Daughter!

He approaches the rustic façade of the Cranshaw House and slips up behind an old oak tree to survey the steep slope of the front lawn. There were lights on inside. But was anyone home? He wondered how things were going at Collinsport Inn – how Sam was fairing with Blair.

Across the way, it was all as Rhyaad had told him, the two-story mansion sat down in the serene glade of a small lake. The blonde Solomonarii, having made his way silently along the frost harden bank now crouches in the shadows among the trees on the hill opposite the moon lit waters. The eyes of the careful bandit, watches and observes, studies the target for any signs of security – human or otherwise. What he found odd was that the house, this secret sanctuary of a mad necromancer seemed to sit across the lake all too invitingly – which now began to worry him. Blair had to know they would be coming.

He sighs preparing himself for whatever was to come as he moves forward now, careful to make certain he did not step on any of the fallen branches along the deer trail he skirts on his way around the lake.

The silvery moonlight of the moon one day past full shimmers off the wind rippled waters of the lake – but as he grows now closer to the house he suddenly detects a strange glimmer of light as if it was reflecting off something on the darken lawn. And this light was not moonlight.

Rhyaad’s predator’s vision spots the shadowy figure of Meili approaching now, lightly running toward the old mansion, before suddenly stopping to crouch behind some landscaping shrubbery. Rhyaad steels himself, says a silent prayer, and steps forward – his eyes peering into the night – what had Meili spotted? Well, he was definitely not going to see it from this angle and so moving now closer to the house he moves along the edge of the drive. To his right, the large two-car garage was silent and still.

He moves gracefully across the drive and taking note that Meili seems to be pointing ahead at something he apparently sees.

Rhyaad’s eyes now detect the something – it’s a light – a shimmer of light.

Rhyaad quickly looks up at the trees around him and watches as the cold, winter breeze stirs the creaking bare limbs, but the cedar trees near the house – near the shimmer – they did not seem to move. He hated necromancers.

“No security that I can detect,” Meili whispers now as he slips up beside him.

Rhy points to where he had seen the shimmer of light, “Because there’s the Ward.”

Meili nods, “I thought I saw something.”

Rhyaad gives Meili a vial. “Drink this. Then rub the cat bracelet as you pass the boundary.”

Meili reaching to take the vial turns his head slightly and he sees what looks like a glistening wall of light . . .

“You saw that, didn’t you?” Meili asks quietly, motioning off toward the strange light.

“D**n—“ Rhyaad says under his breath.

Together they move down the slope of the front lawn and approach the tall cedars standing sentinel before the house and as they did so it becomes obvious that there is a protective ward around the two-story home, a shimmering curtain of light, like a drape suspended in the air – one that had to be seen from some precise angle in order to detect.

Meili clutches the vial Rhyaad had given him tightly, protectively . . . from what he knew this Blair was very powerful. “Shadow hide us,” he whispers.

“Is this only some security he has in place – or does he know we were coming,” Rhyaad whispers.

Meili quickly opens the vial and hurriedly drinks the contents. He reaches out and slowly rubs the bracelet as he approaches, “Keep me safe little one.”

Rhyaad looks at him and gives him a reassuring smile, “I will, and as they used to say, I shall ‘spell you’.” And he began to whisper several phrases Meili could not quite understand, and suddenly both of them become invisible.

Meili looks amazed to find that their feet now floated barely an inch above the ground.

Now a house is just a house, Rhyaad thinks as he draws closer and slips up behind one of the blue-green, deep scented Atlantic white-cedars, only this house – this house he can feel something, something very malevolent now about the old mansion – almost as if it were a living entity. He could not shake the feeling that the house was watching them as much as they were watching the house.

Meili Rainheart scowls, “Magic! I hate it when things get complicated.”

He steps closer now to Rhyaad as they stand in the shelter of the tall cedars, “And so— “ he motions to where the occasional glistening could be detected, “I would say, we should be expecting some company, rather soon.”

Rhyaad nods, “There is definitely something here – I can feel it. I don’t know what it is – but it is watching.

The Solomonarii whispers to Rhyaad, still hoping to maintain something akin to stealth, and points to the side of the house, “I’m going to see if I can find a way in. Keep yourself sharp.”

Invisible though he was, Meili focuses his thoughts for a moment to gather power and slowly moves away from Rhyaad.

Rhyaad ventures a bare whisper of “yes” to Melil and then he gently whispers something to his own bracelet. The field that formed about him now was not visible, and was noticeable only in that it seemed to absorb light.

And then suddenly, as in response to his whispering there now seems to come from – from where he was not certain, nor was he even certain that he actually heard it or not – but there was for only a brief moment the sound of distant pipes or flutes, playing some discordant music–

He looks around, “Oh, this doesn’t sound good.” He thought.

Meili began to move slowly around, looking down to the walkway between the house and the garage, seeking some visible means of egress. A flaw in the defense, in the ward, if there were one. As he approaches the back of the house, he can see the balcony doors, overlooking the hardwood deck, standing open, allowing the cold Maine night to enter – it was all to inviting. Much too inviting. And yet, here was the simple path. And so, gathering his power, placing his hands together, he feels himself slowly rise – levitating.

In front of the house, crouched in the cedars, Rhyaad now moves ever closer toward the front doors – once before he and Nikki had traversed this very same path, stepped up on the porch and he had dazzled her with his powers as he had magically slipped his hand through the glass and opened the door from the inside. It had been so much easier then – but then they had not known about Blair. And Blair – he had not taken control – which must have been after he did away with Ian Finch. Did Blair kill him in the house? He wonders. But his attention is now directed to the sudden shimmer that has become a curtain of light – like a prism draping the whole of the mansion.

As he notes the prismatic colors, he grew worried knowing that Meili might soon be trying to make an entrance. And if there was something waiting for them inside the old house, then it should be him to confront it – not Meili. And yet, he stands there only inches from the shimmering ward, holding his breath, not yet certain he wants to reach out and touch – and suddenly he is overwhelmed with the scent of blood. And a lot of it. Fresh.

Meili moves forward tentatively – not wanting to be surprised, but moving closer to the shimmering ward, and for a moment, he thought he detected an opening, a slight fissure between the prismatic color as he draws closer to the balcony. Did Blair want them to enter via this opening? If so, did he have some guardian waiting?

Rhyaad shivers – the blood. It is overwhelming and – he can sense the fear in it – and – he is suddenly overcome with a deep sadness as he can sense it is filled with so much young girl innocence.

Meili, still wary, slowly makes his way toward the balcony, over the railing so as to hover just outside the open balcony. It is a large second floor bedroom. There are no lights on here. And as yet no one to bar his entrance – could Blair have made a mistake – one that he could be exploited?

Meili draws himself inward with great care so as to not let himself actually touch the floor – not until he could be certain it would be safe.

But as he moves from the balcony in through the open door into the second floor, he can feel something thick, invisible about him – it’s like pressing up against something that seems now to wrap, to move, enfold around him, like plastic – to suffocate him . . . the air feels thick, and then – he is through it.

And all the lights in the house go out.

The house is in total darkness.
Rhyaad shuddered as he watched the old mansion suddenly go dark. The sight did not bode well. Meili must have moved beyond the barrier. He must be inside the house – he could wait no longer.

Rhyaad steels himself and whispering an incantation to his bracelet steps into the shimmer.

For a moment he is blind. A bright white flash – like a bolt of lightning without the accompanying thunder. It all but brings him to his knees. D**ned he hated necromacers.

He makes his way uncertainly toward the door and slipping his hand through the frosted glass, unlocks the door from inside, turning the crystal doorknob – and opens the door and stepping inside. The scent of blood is all but overwhelming, almost intoxicating as he makes his way into the large living room. He notes that the embers of a fire are still glowing in the hearth of the large fireplace. Now based on his initial visit to this old mansion, he knows the floor plan and so he moves over toward the stairs leading to the second floor.

But the smell of blood is all too intense and he finds himself forced to turn now to look into the kitchen. There atop the counter, one foot dangling in the sink, a young girl – no more than twenty lies, her throat cut. Her right breast is severed. Missing. Great splashes of blood. A crimson pool on the kitchen floor is till damp. Abdomen open. It all looks too much like the work of Jack the Ripper.

Meili cautiously makes his way out of the bedroom and peers into the corridor beyond the bedroom door. He steps out. In the gloom of the corridor he sees his foot – he’s lost his invisibility! The Ward? And what was that noise? It sounded like a flock of birds fluttering their wings – no, not a flock, but one very large bird. He slips across the hall and steps into a nightmare of a room lit by rays of the moon falling though the tall mullioned, etched glass windows.

The room has been used for some ritual or rituals.

Thick, heavy tomes lie open on tables and wooden pedestals that look as if they have been stolen from a church. A pentagram has been sketched on the floor. Some other magical circle with odd symbols and vile hieroglyphs as been drawn in blood upon the hardwood floor. Blood is everywhere. The floor is covered in pools of it. Two young woman lie murdered. Their throats slit. Other things, unspeakable things – done to them with a knife.

Thankfully he can only see them in the light of the moon. The blood, the fresh corpses, the arcane patterns, and death – death everywhere around him, he nearly gagged.

He had seen the rituals of the blackest of magic before—but not in some long time.

He looks at the books—so easy to snatch.

Only he turns now at the sound of fluttering wings. Large fluttering wings—

“Son of a b***h.” He curses in his mind, figuring the trap was about to be sprung around him. “I’ve been made . . . yes. But, you must keep your wits about you, Meili,” He says to himself, then sneers and puts his back to the wall of the corridor, just outside the door to the room of blood, his eyes ever watchful in the darkness which seemed to close around him. And there was now the haunting sound of wings swishing up against a wall somewhere in the blackness that enveloped his sight. “ . . . damnation.” He thought, while he waited for the house to reveal whatever horror had been left for the intrepid bandit who dared enter while the master was away.

There now comes the sound of scratching, scraping as if someone were dragging a sharpened edge of a wood chisel long a floorboard.

All too quickly it was becoming very obvious that he was prey to something that had been left to guard the house, something triggered by the penetration of the shimmering ward. Yes, the ward was not to keep anyone out – but was to alarm . . . to release – release whatever was now stalking him in the darkness of the second floor corridor.

Rhyaad freezes as he hears the sound of long, deep scratching. The slow, ominous scrape of long talons as they rake across some very hard wood. He looks up to the ceiling – it is coming from the second floor – form where Meili is – alone.

He turns from the horror of the kitchen and slowly makes his way through the moon lit house – he haltingly approaches the foot of the stairs leading to the second floor. From his previous B&E he knew the films were still most likely on the second floor. Carefully he mounted the stairs, his hand grasping the hilt of his sword as he pulls in silently from the scabbard. With one foot firmly stepping upon the first step of the second floor stairs, he struggled now with his own course of action – should he mount them slowly, or should he rush up them all in one quick motion. Would that help Meili, or would it only be adding to his danger.

But failure to try anything had never been the way of the Dae’Arato.

He longs to call out to Meili but restrains himself – he does not want to give away his position. If only he knew where his friend was – what he was facing.

Something loudly clatters now as if something heavy has been knocked over and has fallen hard on the wooden floor. The sound could be the sound of the stacked metal canisters containing the old motion pictures, Rhyaad thinks.

Suddenly there was a hard jarring vibration of something shaking the house as if something large had collided with one of the walls.

Rhyaad whispers to the bracelet once again only this time he used some very arcane words—not the general ‘ward’ breaker he had given to Meili—for he was using the ancient amulet from Father Thomas, which also had the power to break ‘wards’ against the undead. With each measure step carefully placed, Rhyaad peers up into the darkness of the stair well, his undead eyes casting their predator’s gaze along the upper landing, as he ascends the stairs ever so cautiously. He detects now yet another odd glimmer of light. How many wards has this b*****d set? Traps within traps. He reaches his hand up to slip into the space where he had seen the air shimmer.

At his hand enters the shimmer of light before him, a brilliant flash of white, bright white – like heat lightning runs along the ground – flashes along the wooden floorboards throughout the second floor. The flash threw him back against the wall – oh yes – a definite ward. Not some moonlight refracted off the etched glass windows. A trap well played. An opening to the balcony to allow one to enter via the second floor, but a ward to block anyone from making an advance in order to help their companion above – damn, he should have seen this coming!

Inside the house there now came the horrid sound of something very large and heavy moving about, the sound of talons or claws tearing into wood, the flutter of large wings slapping up against walls.

Rhyaad stands looking up at the glimmer of the ward. This was most unexpected, and most distressing. He knew from the loathsome sounds above that his friend was in danger; he had to get to the second floor.

Meili stands pressed silently to the corridor wall seeking to blend into the darken recess of excessive shadows. He glances over toward the stairs. He knew that Rhyaad should be coming up them—soon.
If he waited, then there would be the two of them against – against whatever Blair had set free to welcome them. Standing there in the gloom, he was not al all certain where this guardian was, for it seemed to be everywhere and yet not where in particular. Mere tricks of sound and darkness – or was it something fro more magically sinister?

He stands allowing his eyes to adjust to this murk – there are no windows within the corridor, all the doors are closed, so as to block any avenue for the moonlight to enter. A hallway devised as a trap?

He looks down the corridor to the room at the end of the hall. This most certainly was his target – the room containing the films. But, it could also be the room containing the necromancer’s as yet unseen watchdog.

Meili suddenly held his breath – trying not to move, as he heard now the sound of a scrape – something cutting into a wall, running down through plaster and wallpaper.

He smells now the unusual scent of cinnamon and castor oil.

From his position on the landing of the “L-shaped” stairs, Rhyaad hears the strange noses and senses the odd odors, which serve to only make him more defiant. There must be a way to pass this barrier, whatever it was. He approached again, and renewed his incantation, and stuck his hand through the shimmering air.

Meili Rhyaad glances over and sees Rhyaad trying to advance up the stairs, a blue-silver halo glowing about his right upraised wrist. Meili knew something was waiting for him in the room at the end of the hall, perhaps guarding the very treasures he seeks. So now comes the challenge. He grinned with a grim expression and reached to his wrist to slowly rub the bracelet again, “Come out, come out, wherever you are . . . “ he says to himself as he moves toward the closed door at the end of the hall.

As Rhyaad pushes through the ward, the shimmering light now seems to ripple, more like water than light over the corridor’s floor, illuminating Meili now – even as it stripped him of his invisibility.

There is the sound of shattering glass – a window bursting at the seams.

Meili steps forward now closer to the door of the room from which came the crashing metallic sounds.

Rhyaad was forcing himself through the protective ward, ascending the stairs, like trying to arise up through water thick as oil.

There is the sound of shattering glass – a window bursting at the seams.

Meili steps forward now closer to the door of the room from which came the crashing metallic sounds – the shattering glass.

Rhyaad was forcing himself though the protective ward, ascending the stairs, like trying to arise up through water thick as oil.

And suddenly there is a crash from above – wood splintering.

The ceiling of the corridor explodes downward in a shower of white plasterboard and dust and wood splinters as the monstrous Nightgaunt now appears. It stands in the corridor, well over twelve-feet, it’s huge massive black wings flapping to slap up against the walls. It’s black, faceless, head tilts to listen for Meili, hearing his breathing, the beating of his heart. It’s barbed tail swishing like a madden serpent, a serpent seeking flesh to rip.

The blond Roma flexes his fingers reflexively, eyes looking on the thing that has just appeared bursting through the ceiling before him. Finally, so the penny drops, he thinks. “Aren’t you the pretty thing . . . So, the master’s pet finally bears its fangs.” He grins.”

In the confines of the hallway, the Nightgaunt seeks to take flight, to hover above the floor, its talon hands reaching out at the sound of his voice in order to grab its prey—

“You want to dance, yes? I was hoping it would come to this.” Meili grins wider with wild eyes and lets his hands fly out beside him, “Come then,” forgetting he has lost his invisibility.

“Meili!” Rhyaad tries to warn. “What are you doing?”

The Nightgaunt’s wings batter against the confines of the narrow hallway –its wing span too large for the space.

“Do not antagonize . . . whatever the h**l that thing is.” Rhyaad says struggling free of the ward.

The Nightgaunt suddenly rises and flies up through the whole it had previously smashed down through the ceiling and roof, tearing out even more plasterboard, rafters, and insulation as it rises into the night sky. As it does so it lifts its mouthless head as if to cry out – to call to its master.

Meili is left looking up through the hole in the ceiling. “You flee? To alert your master!” Meili roared in anger, hoping against hope that he was wrong.

Rhyaad hurries over and stand looking up through the hole also, ‘Oh this does not bode well.”

The Nightgaunt circles above the house, listening to the heartbeats as he decides its line of flight and dives once more toward the roof of the old mansion.

“What did you do to scare it off?” Rhyaad asks still looking up into the night sky through the opening in the ceiling.

“Nothing, other than my glare.”

“Your glare?”

Suddenly the creature crashes through an upstairs window. Ponderously it races across the room and smashes its massive talon fingered hands through the wall. It grips great handfuls of the wood and pasterboard and tears its way back into the corridor where it quickly grasps Meili by the shoulder and hurls him savagely back up against the opposite wall.

Rhyaad turns and swings his blade and the Nightgaunt hearing the steel moving through the air sways back, away from the sound of the swinging blade and lets Meili go. Rhyaad stands with his blade ready – awaiting the creature’s next move. “You all right?”

“Yes.” Meili gasps, feeling the pain of his wrenched shoulder.

Only the next move is for the NIghtgaunt to step back into the room from which it had just burst forth. With its massive forearms it hurls itself up to slam them against the remaining section of the wall –sending an explosive shower of splinters, broken 2 x 4 framing, ripped wall paper and plaster into Rhyaad, hurling him backwards against the far wall.

Stunned, but still able to hold tight to the hilt of his sword, Rhyaad watches as the Nightgaunt steps back into the hallway, retracts its wings and stomps its way hurriedly toward the small room from whence it had originally been position.

It shatters the door and reenters.

Meili rises up from the floor where he had fallen and takes a quick glance through the hole the creature had made in the wall, ‘”Doesn’t seem to like doors?”

“He likes that one.” Rhyaad indicates the room at the end of the hall.

Through the tattered remains of the wall of the corridor, Rhyaad now looks to see the room beyond is scattered with many more bodies—but there were also an array of unusual books and strange objects and artifacts.

It is a slaughterhouse – every victim a very beautiful wound woman. Rhyaad stood looking at them vowing that Blair would not go unpunished for these deaths – for this atrocity.

Meili smiled as he glances through the chaos to quickly make a list for his heist.

“No time to dawdle,” the Roma thinks to himself as he clambers now through the hole in the wall and immediately ran toward a book open on a pedestal and another on a desk opposite the room. Meili grabbed up both books and stuffed them into a bag he carried with him to gather up his haul.

“What are you doing?” Rhyaad asks.

“She said to pick up anything else we should happen upon,” Meili replies as he snatches up an old scroll lying on the table.

He stops for a moment as he spots a document on the desk –

Well obviously the need for stealth was long past, Rhyaad though as he dusts himself off and turns now to confront the shattered door to the room at the end of he hall where the Nightgaunt had retreated.

This was the same room he knew that the Farnsworth Projector and the stack of old films had been in when he was last here – and was where they no doubt remained still . . . along with Blair’s little pet.

“Come on—before we have to deal with Blair . . . “ Rhyaad tells Meili now motioning for him to leave the room with the magical diagrams on the floor, and the bloody corpses of the women so carelessly left thrown to land where they may. Rhyaad did not want to look into their eyes any more as they seemed to be saying to him – you are too late – too late for us. Why, oh why are you once again so late?

Oh how he hated necromancers.

Meili left the document on the desk and immediately made a dash toward the room with an even wilder expression growing on his face; it was about time for him to get some action in.

They both step through the shattered remains of the door.

“Coming through!” Meili exclaimed as he shoves himself past Rhyaad and further into the room, his palm out, a fierce wave of kinetic energy summoned up to blow ahead of him as she enters. The beast was before him now, and beyond the creature was the projector they sought as well as many old metal canisters of film.

“Jackpot!”

Rhyaad, holding the hilt of his sword in two hands, up high and ready, finds the Nightgaunt standing guard before the old motion pictures, its razor sharp barbed tail flicking back and forth eager to cut into flesh—

The blond thief stand flexing his fingers in anticipation and excitement that danced along his spine and made him even more eager to combat the dark beast, “You’re in the way of a very excited thief, Watchdog. Best you run for your master or face me. You make the choice.”

The creature’s answer was to suddenly charge Meili. Rhyaad could not swing now as Meili was in the way, and he watched as the talon hands grabbed Meilii and lifted him from the floor rand hurled him upward to the ceiling where he crashed against it and fell back heavily to the floor. Only, once Meili was tossed up, clearing an avenue for him, Rhyaad’s vampire reflexes swung the blade and cut along the left arm of the monster, cutting deep along the blacken flesh, deep into a tendon.

The creature without a mouth could not utter a sound of pain or fury, but its tail lashed about, stabbing the walls, ripping and tearing furniture as it tried to find a way to strike at Rhyaad; even as the creature began to emit a charge of dark energy, which began to ripple over its flesh and emitted the scent of ozone and rotting marsh grass.

The tail whips about, its barbed point stabbing at the floor, pulling back out, and then stabbing down again as it tries to find some part of Meili on the floor to penetrate. Rhyaad reaches down and grabs his friend roughly and pulls him away from that d***able tail.

The Nightgaunt cocked its head side to side and then suddenly took to the air, hovering, his tail deftly seeking to strike Meili or Ryhaad, trying to cut either of them deeply, as the talons reach out seeking to grab one of them.

“Showtime!” The blond shouts again and immediately threw his hand out in an arc. A ripple forms in the air before him as a rush of force flew out like a wing of a mighty hammer toward the creature. The tail lashed out at him and forces him to take a step back.

Rhyaad seeing that here within the confines of this room the barbed tail would eventually find its mark says loudly, “Enough of this,” and he begins to mutter a few phrases in high Elf. Flashes and sparks now begin to surround his hands and began to arc up and down the length of his sword.

In cramped confines of the room the Nightgaunts wings are ineffective for flight and so he uses them to batter against the walls, tearing great holes in them, hurling splinters and sharp jagged pieces of wood at his assailants. Those who have come to steal what his master had ordered him to protect.

The forces of energy that Meili hurls at the creature seem less to hurt the monstrosity than they are absorbed by the beast to power its dark energy, which continues to ripple along it’s flesh . . .

Rhyaad’s energy sparks from his fingers and strikes the Nightgaunt, staggering it back further away from the canisters of film it so obviously is trying to protect.

One of the great black wings struck another window shattering it, allowing the cold winder air to whip about the room.

“We’re making off with those, demon. Get—.” Meili rears back and balled his fist, a large ripple forming about his hand. “—LOST!” He bellowed against the cold winds and threw a punch straight for the thick hard chin of the beast. The blow felt as if he had broken every bone in his hand, and yet, it staggered the creature and hurled it back through the window, ripping out the frame, glass showering the ground below.

“Demon? It sure looks like something from the ninth ring of hell!” Rhyaad was taking a step forward into the small room now, the glow from his hands increasing rapidly.

“Gotcha!” Meili cheers and flicks his hand in pain. He turns to look at Rhyaad and flashes a wild grin, “Score!”

“Broke you hand, huh?” Rhyaad says able to see the pain behind the false façade of Meili’s triumph.

“Might have.” He gasps. And yet, ever the master thief, he rushes forward to the projector to get what they had come for, feeling pleased with himself, but cautiously aware that the monster was probably still alive.

“Rhyaad, chase the thing while I grab the film. We’re getting the h**l out of here once I’ve got what we came for!”

He moves forward with Meili, ignoring the films and the projector, as his attention was rapt upon the window.

The thing is out there, he just could not see it at the moment.

“Quick find it.” He says over his shoulder back to Meili.

Above the house the enraged beast dives into the roof. It’s talon claws and hands grasping and ripping away singles, rafters, strips of insulation, electrical wiring, metal conduit as it tore through the roof and the ceiling to get back into the house.

“I think it’s really mad now.” Rhyaad says.

“Now?” Meili asks trying to stack the film canisters.

The Nightgaunt enters once again and marches down the hallway, it’s wings retracted – its fists punching holes in the wall as it makes it’s way toward the room at the end of the hall.

Rhyaad suddenly turns and aiming at the door lets loose a powerful blast directly at the creature as it grabbed the door facing and ripped it loose from the wall.

“Oh, h**l! Right, make that on the double.” Meili darts over to the film canisters and tears through then stacks, searching for his target while Rhyaad continued to do battle with the beast. He shuffles through the stacks recklessly, canisters spilling across the floor.

Rhyaad’s first blasts were quickly followed by several more lightning like bolts shot from his hands toward what should have been a face, if the creature had a proper face.

The dark beast tries to bat the blasts aside with its mighty paws, seeking a break in the energy bombardment to enter the room.

“Got it!” Meili suddenly exclaims and holds up the accursed film canister. “Rhyaad, now if you would kick that thing to the curb we can flee!”

“Right,” Rhyaad says.

Meili shoves the film into his bag and closed it carefully. He looked over at the shattered window – an avenue of escape?

“Rhy.”

“Oh, h**l,” Rhyaad says looking to the Roma pointing to their route of escape.

The beast was preparing to charge.

Meili grabs the projector and they both race for the open window and leap. The blond Roma, using his levitation abilities to help glide them to the ground below, can feel the dark beast as it flew through the window just behind them.

The Nightgaunt flits up into the sky and circles the house.

The creature retreats across the lake.

On the rising slope of the western side of the house, Rhyaad rises, gripping his sword.

“Give ’em hell, Rhyaad. I’ll be back you know where!” Meili grins and with the beast across the lake he takes the opportunity to start off in a telekinetic dash toward the forest to head back to the old mansion. “Best of luck!”

The Roma off like a bolt of lightning back into the woods felt for a moment a sense of disappointment in not getting to join in the fight against the beast, but he did feel proud in that they had managed to fend it off and swipe the film and some valuable-looking books right out from under this all so powerful necromancer’s nose. Yes, they would be coming back to the house with a King’s ransom of a haul for certain, and he had been able to more than prove his worth in gold. Just as he had planned.

Rhyaad watches his friend disappear into the woods and then turns to stride around the house to stand before the large wooden deck that ran along the lakeside. He looks across the moonlit waters of the lake at the huge dark shape of Blair’s house pet, which on the opposite side of the lake stands watching him—its wings slowly flapping.

Rhyaad tired of this thing yells a roar of defiance at the dark creature. “H**l spawn! What are you waiting for?”

Rising up the creature took to the sky and rose high, circling the house once to determine a line of attack.

Rhyaad slowly keeping his eyes on the light of the Nightgaunt continues to yell. “That’s it, come closer, black deomn!” He lets the energy build up inside him as his eyes glow and sparks fly again around his hands, “Come and get me!”

The creature swoops down, his talon hands outstretched –it’s massive body hurling down at Rhyaad.

He standas his ground watching the monstrosity descending down upon him like some falcon from h**l—closer, he thinks, closer. The wings loudly flapping as it came in for the kill . . . and then Rhyaad lets loose with his most powerful blast striking the beast full force in the face. The blacken flesh burns.” The creature misses and as it sweeps past, just barely missing him, and Rhyaad swings his sword with his entire vampire might and severes the faceless head.

The head rolls across the lawn.

The massive body collides into the earth.

A great black wing slaps Rhyaad and hurls him back on the ground.

He lies there for a moment looking up at the night sky.

The only sound is the rippling waters of the lake and the cold winter wind.

He lifts his head to see beyond his boots the headless body of the beast lying on the ground twitching.

Slowly he rises and sheaths his sword.

He looks at the great creature and sighs.

He turns and begins to make the slow walk back to his car.

Up on the western hillside, in a stand of swaying cedars, beside a black Mercedes parked on a narrow access road, a dark figure obscured in dark shadows, holds a pair of binoculars and watches as Rhyaad walks away from Cranshaw House.

Cue Music End of Episode