The Peregrine frowned. He needed information and he quickly realized that Vulthar wasn’t going to give it. Their best bet lay with the professor. Hopefully, he knew enough to be truly helpful. “Andre,” he hissed. “Let’s kill this guy.”
Catalyst wasn’t upset by that command in the least. “Your wish is my command,” he said.
Suddenly the room was lit up not only by Catalyst’s blast of magical force but by a similar one that shot forth from Vulthar. The beams of energy slammed into one another and shook the building to its foundation. The glow of energy could be seen through the windows, alerting Samantha across the street that something was happening.
The Peregrine put away his gun and drew forth The Knife of Elohim, a mystical blade that had been dipped in the blood of Christ. This caused the weapon to glow in the presence of evil and to do extra damage to those whose souls were steeped in sin.
It was now glowing so powerfully that it was almost blinding.
Gritting his teeth, The Peregrine jumped forward into the pentagram, willing to take the battle directly to his enemy.
Dieter resisted the urge to bolt and run. Though he’d come to realize his cowardice in recent days, he knew it would not be wise to abandon his post at Vulthar’s side.
Instead, he fumbled for a pistol that he knew was kept in a nearby drawer. Security in the Reich sometimes meant that you had to be prepared for anything and that often meant that even men of science kept armed weapons at easy reach. He had just yanked open the drawer and started to place his fingers around the hilt of the gun when Morgan barreled into him with shoulder lowered.
The impact sent Dieter to the floor and knocked the air from his lungs. He wheezed for a few seconds before looking up into Morgan’s angry face. The American held Dieter’s gun now and he brandished it with obvious familiarity.
“A Mauser?” Morgan muttered. “Nice.” He leaned forward and seized Dieter’s collar, yanking him closer. “I have the feeling that you might have answers to a whole lot of our questions. Am I right?”
“It’s hopeless,” Dieter hissed. “You obviously have no idea what’s really going on here!”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Morgan drew back his hand and slammed the butt of the Mauser into Dieter’s temple. With a groan, the scientist passed out, his eyes rolling up into his skull.
Andre had to admit that The Peregrine had guts. There he was, locked in mortal combat with a man obviously possessed by some sort of elder power and all he was armed with was his wits and an enchanted blade. Oh, it was one of the fabled Knives of Elohim to be sure, but their greatest power came when united. Separate, they were capable of carving through most enemies with ease but against someone like Vulthar, it would not be enough.
As such, Catalyst was prepping a powerful spell that might save the day, assuming he got a clear enough shot at Vulthar to use it. The Peregrine was unintentionally making that very difficult.
Hearing the booted footsteps of armed men hurrying down the hallway, Catalyst whirled about and placed his hands upon the closed door. It glowed, strengthened by his magic. Now it would take quite a bit of effort on the part of anyone to get inside.
Catalyst turned back to the battle and saw Vulthar backhand The Peregrine with enough force to lift Max Davies off his feet. The masked hero landed with a grunt and barely dodged an energy blast that would have taken the flesh off his head.
Vulthar stepped back and unleashed a string of ancient words. He was casting some sort of spell; the one that would have required the use of sacrifices. Catalyst could only assume that the man was willing to gamble that he could pull off the spell without the life essences that he craved. And why not? If Vulthar was defeated, whatever he’d been trying to do would be thwarted regardless. Better to simply try it and hope for the best.
Catalyst surged forward, eager to stop this from happening, but he realized his mistake too late. As he entered the pentagram, Vulthar looked in his direction and grinned triumphantly. The villain had obviously decided that three sacrifices would not be needed at all, providing that there was a single one that would prove just as powerful.
Andre screamed as Vulthar opened his mouth wide and belched out a tremendous burst of magical fire. It engulfed The Catalyst and destroyed his physical shell, which had been kept animate all these years through his sheer force of will. Now that he was older and weaker, he was unable to protect himself from the attack.
And in one powerful instant, The Catalyst was destroyed and the spell took effect.
The pentagram started to glow and a high-pitched sound filled the air, making everyone flinch in sudden pain. All over Germany, animals reacted just as violently. The noise dug deep into their brains and spoke of something awful. Dogs barked, cats hissed, and horses kicked out at anything and everyone within reach.
But even worse, deep below the seas and mountains, dark things stirred. Glimmerings of consciousness began to form and limbs that had not moved for eons began to twitch. The more powerful the entity, the deeper in slumber it had been but their spawn, the quick and deadly babies that they had birthed along the way, were instantly awake and crawling towards the surface.
Humanity was in tremendous peril and those poor souls who were sensitive to such things were once again inundated with feelings of dread and despair.
The Peregrine screamed. The painful visions that had often plagued him were back in full force now, slamming into his brain with all the force of a freight train. As before, he saw scenes of terror and destruction but now he saw horrible creatures, slithering up from the depths of the world’s orifices.
When the images abruptly faded, he heard the triumphant laughter of Vulthar. He saw Morgan pointing his pistol at the villain and squeezing off two quick shots, neither of which made it to their intended target. The bullets seemed to stop in midair, several feet from Vulthar, who regarded them with disdain.
On the floor in front of the villain lay the tattered emerald garb of Andre Thierry. Of the man who had once worn those clothes, there was nothing left save dust and bone.
Max Davies cursed under his breath. He’d seen this too many times before: good men and women dying, while the forces of evil returned again and again. Fueled by a terrible drive for vengeance, The Peregrine brandished The Knife of Elohim and shouted for Morgan to take his prisoner to safety. As ordered, Morgan seized hold of Dieter’s arm and dragged him behind a metal storage cabinet.
Vulthar’s triumphant grin faded a bit as The Peregrine approached, mystic blade glowing in his gloved hand. “It’s too late, masked man. They are waking up, all around the globe.”
“You killed Catalyst.”
“He died for a greater purpose than he ever served in life.”
“I’m going to send you to Hell.”
“Do you appreciate the irony of that, given that you’re armed with a weapon of your modern God?”
“I don’t see it. Looks to me that a blade like this is the perfect thing with which to dispatch the forces of evil.”
“It gained its power from an act of foulness!”
“You’re wrong. It was a pure, noble sacrifice. You focus on the acts of the terrible men who took part in Christ’s death without realizing the bravery that it took to allow it to happen.”
Vulthar shrugged. “Semantics.”
“Fact,” The Peregrine hissed between clenched teeth. He stabbed with his knife and the sharp blade dug deep between Vulthar’s ribs. The magic properties of the blade dealt extra damage and the wound sizzled.