The Annals of Fear

One glance at Mello\'s expression told Matt all that he needed to know. Whatever great and noble plan Mello had had, it had just crashed around his ears. Deontic had evidently reached the same conclusion. Matt saw her look at Mello, then immediately move. Her actions, as his, dismissing Mello as leader without a word. The crashing, screaming thing kept on moving around the house, but it was not in the room with them and that was the deciding factor in Matt\'s priorities. He rushed to Century\'s side with Deontic only half a beat behind him. He noticed, with searing stab of panic, that Mello raced in the opposite direction, into the kitchen. Matt was caught in a brief freeze of indecision, resenting Mello for even thinking of going outside. But Mello was almost immediately back, hauling the defibrillator up into both arms.



Deontic had already removed the laptop from Century\'s lap. Matt plunged down to check the teenager\'s breathing and heartbeat. They were both there. Matt released a breath of his own and called out, "His heart is beating." Mello paused on the edge of the mattress and placed the defibrillator on the floor. His eyes were wide and his head tilted, listening to the onslaught from the entity around them.



"I have a pulse." Deontic confirmed, her fingers against Century\'s neck.



Matt placed his hands under Century\'s back and knees, straining to lift him from the armchair onto the floor. Century was not a heavy teenager, but he was larger than Matt. Adrenaline helped, as did Deontic hurrying to help him as soon as she ascertained what he was doing. Together, they laid him in the recovery position, while Mello just reached down for the headset and pulled it off. It was bluetooth and so there was no lead to hinder him, as Mello paced back across the floor. He put it on. "Fenian?" There was silence on the other end. Mello clenched his fists. "Century has just collapsed! He had a heart attack yesterday. Fucking help us."



There was a click and sound flooded in. The Irishman\'s voice was both hoarse and muted. "Call a fucking ambulance then."



"He said something in Welsh before he went down. It mentioned the Gwrach-y-Rhybyn." Mello paused by his bag and brought out his semi-automatic. He released the safety catch, glaring at the window from which the sound of the wailing was currently loudest. "What did he say?"



Fenian swallowed. "He said, \'help me, Gwrach-y-Rhybyn has just arrived\'."



"And how can we help him against her?"



"... the fuck should I know?" Fenian coughed, as his voice rose in indignation. "Getting him to a fucking hospital would be a good start!"



Mello turned around and snapped at Matt and Deontic. "Keep him the fuck alive." Then he stomped out towards the kitchen.



"Mello." Matt warned. "Do not go out there." But he was too late, Mello was already crossing the threshold into the kitchen at a jog, his gun steady in his hand. Matt yelled, "Mello!" And rose to take after him. "For fuck\'s sake!"



Deontic descended into icy efficiency, as she scrambled for her \'phone. From the instant it was in her hand, her gaze never left Century\'s prone form. She barely blinked for fear of missing the moment when his chest stopped rising and falling. It took her several seconds to release that she was hearing neither the ringing tone or the operator. She tore her eyes from the teenager to her \'phone. There was no signal. She frowned and glanced down at the laptop at her feet. The connection icon had a red cross. Mello was not speaking to Fenian now. Deontic stood and hurriedly searched Mello\'s jacket for his \'phone. Her gaze raked across the row of computers on the table. Every one of them was disconnected. Deontic slid back the skull encrusted cover of the \'phone in her hand. It was also without a signal. "You are kidding me." She breathed, staring back at Century. But Watari had its own satellite connection. It should find it even without a nearby mast. She tried, but the whole network was dead. Her mind threw up the fact that all emergency lines should connect without a signal. That fact, she determined bitterly, was wrong. She rushed back to Century\'s side and monitored his airways again. "Hold on in there, Century. Please." She bit her lip. They would have to drive him to the hospital. She bellowed, "Mello! Matt!" But there was no response from either of them. The bastards, she realised, had gone outside.



Mello charged through the back door, his gun ready in his hand. The being was on the other side of the building. He could hear her even more loudly here, from the keening wail, that travelled from his ears to shudder in his soul, to the thumping, leathery beating of her gigantic wings. He heard Fenian\'s voice stop mid-expletive and silence filled the headset. Matt appeared at his shoulder and Mello placed a hand on his husband\'s chest. "Wait."



"Don\'t go out there."



Mello fixed him with a haughty glance. "I\'ve faced down monsters you can\'t conceive of. Supernatural and human alike." He paused, listening. The thing was flying higher. They could hear it moving. "And, of the two, give me the otherworldly any day. They are never so cruel as the humans." He stepped out, despite Matt grabbing Mello\'s waistband. He hit down with his fist, straight onto the top of Matt\'s wrist. Mello snapped, "Leave it!"



There was a grunt of pain from Matt, but it was lost in the sudden heightening of the predatory sound around them. The whole world seemed to darken and she was there. Gwrach-y-Rhybyn rose up over the rooftop and descended in a crashing of wings and a screeching howl of sorrow. She landed on the top of Matt\'s Camero and her gaze nearly stopped their hearts. Her eyes burned, pure black and so filled with devastation that they both took a step backwards. She was withered with arms way too long for her shrunken body. She wasn\'t so huge, but her black hair and tattered, grey clothes flapped in the air as if buffeted by a gale. Her hands ended in talons. Huge claws that ripped great scratches into the red paint on the roof of the car. Her mouth, edged with sores and shot through with sharp, rotten teeth, opened preternaturally wide and she screamed a wail that, for a long moment, saw Mello and Matt petrified on the spot. It felt like pure evil. Her gaze, her aspect, the look of her and the sound of her all rang in instincts as old as humanity itself. This was pure evil. Then she spoke, in a voice as cracked and aged as the grave. "Fy ngŵr! Fy ngŵr!"



Mello caught his breath. One hand pushed Matt behind him, his arm stretched out as a guard. The other aimed and fired in one sure movement. The bullets passed straight through her, as he half predicted that they might. Still Mello roared and fired round after round after round. They did no damage, but seemed to incense her. The bat-like wings unfolded and she rose up, swooping down upon them. There was a volley of bullets, teeth and talons, then Matt had Mello, with both arms around his waist, back through the doorway behind him. They tumbled onto the tiles, Matt cushioning his husband from the fall. Mello kicked up, the door slamming onto her face, then ricochetting back to smack against the passage wall. She stood on the threshold and howled.



Mello\'s face and chest were a mess of blood. Lacerations weeping through torn skin and clothes. Matt\'s left forearm held a gaping wound. They both stared back at her, holding their breath. Gwrach-y-Rhybyn took a step inside, as if to prove that she could, but then just stood there, weeping and ripping at her already ragged clothes. Mello and Matt lay on the passage floor. They couldn\'t move. They just watched her, eyes wide with terror. Matt\'s arms clinging around Mello\'s body from behind. Mello\'s hand still on the useless gun. For terrible minutes, they all waited in that frozen tableau, then Gwrach-y-Rhybyn simply flew away.



"0 moj Boga!" Mello gasped.



"Si." Matt gulped, too scared to move in case she came back.



They heard a shuffling of feet behind them and both tore their eyes away from the backdoor to glance upwards. It was Deontic and she had a M1911 pistol extended in both hands. She hopped over them and quickly shut the door, double-bolting it with deadlocks, then looked back with an anxious gaze. "Can she come in?"



Matt nodded. Mello, rallying now, rasped, "I think so. She\'s not a vampire." He lifted a shaking hand to his face. His glove came back covered in blood. "Oh fuck."



Matt shifted his position, easing himself out from under his husband, then helped him to rise too. They could hear the creature beating her wings against an upstairs window. "We need..." Matt began, but faltered under the sheer volume of things that they needed. "Dee, did you call for an ambulance for Century?"



She shook her head. "There\'s no signal and the internet connection is down."



"You can still call emergency services without a signal." Matt stated, matter-of-factly.



Deontic shook her head. "I can\'t even call Watari." She grit her teeth under Matt\'s blinking stare. "I tried. We need to drive to the hospital. I need you to help me get Century into the car."



Mello trembled as he pushed past Matt to the sink. Spitting out blood and dripping it too into the basin. She was still out there. He could hear her so loudly. On a whim, he yanked closed the curtains. It was childish, but he didn\'t want to see her. He gazed down at his torn top, unable to quite believe that she had severed leather. The wound beneath oozed. He dared not even think about what had happened to his face, though his arm had been up, she had reached behind it. Deontic was rushing back into the other room to be at Century\'s side. Mello took refuge in projecting his concern elsewhere. "Matt, let me see your arm. Is it a deep cut?"



"Let\'s worry about you first." Matt was already at his side. As he reached up to brush the hair from Mello\'s face, the whole house was plunged into darkness. They looked around. Even the clock on the cooker had failed and that was generated by a battery. Matt sighed and rifled through the gadgets on his keyring until he found his small torch. It flicked on and off without light. Dead.



Mello spoke up, his voice shaking, "Mail, for the record, te amo."



"Volim te."



Mello nodded somewhere in the darkness. "I know and I\'m sorry."



"It\'s not your fault." Matt breathed. "Stay there." He felt his way to the table and searched with his hand until he found paper. It could have been their notes, the historical archives or Deontic\'s origami paper, he didn\'t know, but Matt gathered it up anyway. He carried it to the sink and dropped it all in, then thought better of it. "Mello, grab the First Aid box and hold onto me."



"The First Aid box is in the other room."



"All the better." He leapt startled, as bat wings smacked the window beside them. "Come on!"



The floor where they\'d been standing was slick with blood. Mello felt like he was holding half of his face together and all he could think about was that day, a couple of years ago, when he\'d first looked into a mirror and seen what the fire had done to him. He didn\'t know if he had the strength to look into another one now. His sorrow struck so deeply that he couldn\'t even channel it into anger. It had him in its grip. He held onto Matt because there was nothing else to do. Circumstances had pre-empted his judgement and his intellect. It was all that he could do to keep from crying.



Matt led them into the other room, calling out. "Alright, Dee?"



"Yes." Deontic\'s tight reply came from a shadow over by the mattress. "He\'s awake."



"Good." Matt sniffed. "Plenty of water and oxygen, the pair of you. The calcium ions are building up in all of our blood streams and we need to wash them away. Holding on in there, Century?"



There was no response. Deontic murmured, "You\'re alright. You\'re alright." Despite all of the evidence to the contrary.



Matt found the fireplace and pulled free the ornamental grill. He hoped that Mr Roberts had kept this chimney swept, and that no-one had blocked it up, in the time since the house was fitted through with central heating. His eyes were starting to adjust. He could just about see Mello sitting down on the floor beside him. He could almost see Deontic bent over Century. Matt used his lighter to inspect the paper. It was Deontic\'s origami. Matt smiled, because that felt like luck for someone ready to grasp at any hope in the darkness. He set Mello to ripping it to shreds, as Matt searched the coal bin for anything flammable. There were ancient splinters of wood and some dust, but nothing more.



"In the cellar." Mello stated, blankly. "There\'s a massive pile of coal in the cellar."



Matt stared at the hearth. Blood was dripping onto it from his arm and it occurred to him that he was feeling a little light-headed. He calmly reached out and gripped a corner of the quilt cover. From his boot, Matt pulled out a long knife and used it to cut a couple of lengths. He bound up his arm and lifted his head to be met with a kiss. It tasted of iron. "You\'re ok, Mell." Matt muttered, as the Slav withdrew again. He realised that he sounded like Deontic did, as she comforted Century. Hopeless and a little desperate. He took the paper and the dregs of the coal bucket, then emptied them into the hearth. Gwrach-y-Rhibyn was up above again. It sounded like she was in the house itself. Matt stood, patting Mello\'s shoulder, and he was quickly grabbed.



"Where are you going?"



"To check the fireplace in the next room." Matt replied, as blandly as he could. "To see if there\'s any coal there."



"I\'ll come with you."



"Mello, please sit still. You\'re bleeding badly."



"I know."



From a few feet away, Deontic snapped. "Why are you messing around with fire anyway? This isn\'t caveman time. We have cars! Let\'s use them!" Matt rolled his eyes, not gracing the suggestion with a response. He hurried away through the connecting door, with Mello swaying as he rose to follow. Deontic was not appeased. "Matt, let me say this slowly and loudly. We need to get them to a hospital." Mello had stopped at the armchair, gripping its back, then hurriedly sank back into it. "Mello, tell him."



There was a woot, as the flame from Matt\'s lighter illuminated a full bucket of coal and wood. He lifted it and rushed through with it, pausing by the chair. "Mello, put your head back up and stay sitting. Hold a cushion against your chest and another against your face. I will get to it as soon as I have light."



"Matt." Deontic spat. "We need to get them to a hospital."



"I know!" Matt glared back. "But, in case you haven\'t noticed, there\'s a creature between us and the cars, who can tear us limb from limb. If you want to go out and bring your car to the door, please be my guest." Quietly seething, Matt set to work building the fire.



From the mattress, Century\'s barely audible whisper asked, "Is there an ambulance coming?"



Deontic shook her head. "No. I\'m sorry. No-one is coming."



"As usual." Matt muttered.



Mello groaned, speaking softly, "I\'m here, Mail."



Matt just nodded and lit the fire. In its warm glow, he could see the First Aid box. He could see Deontic\'s expression and the drained look in her frightened eyes. He could see Century, eyes tightly shut, like he could change the world by not seeing it. He could see Mello, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them, face pressed into the cushion trapped between thighs, knees and body. Matt found and lit a cigarette, then opened the box and began to patch things up, as best he could.