Chapter Four

Mr Montford's entire body froze in horror at the condemning words and his Adam's apple bobbed as he choked on his own bile that had risen into his throat.

His bewildered eyes took in the figure, roving over the curious mask, powerful muscles, and claw-tipped fingers. This was the exact image of the statue, somehow live and full-size in front of them.

A spark of determination flickered across his eyes as they were commanded to kneel, and for a brief moment he met the terrifyingly-cold gaze of the creature. His heart skipped a beat at the pure malice he saw there, freezing him on the spot.

Isaac unconsciously stepped closer to Ash whose pale face had become a waxen death mask, stealthily resting his hand on his upper arm in an effort to give some reassurance as another wave of natural fury rocked the sky.

In the back of his mind a voice hissed. But like the leaves in autumn, it was a faraway cry. Audible but unable to be understood. Even so, his lips formed silent words.

Nonplussed, he felt his legs almost buckle, aching as though they wanted to obey the formidable command, obeying an archaic order that seemed so familiar.

The deafening crack of thunder that vibrated through the building seemed to snap Mr Montford out of his fear-induced daze, and a gasp left him as he felt his heart started beating again. He shook his head as his mind apparently worked in overdrive assessing the situation.

"Isaac, Asher," he whispered, barely moving his lips "run."

Both heard him but Isaac's body refused to obey, incapable of tearing free of that awesome fear, binding him with its dark chains. 

Ash pulled against him lightly, his flight gears not seized like those of his co-worker. He bit down on his lip, drawing blood to the surface as he realised in frustration he couldn't escape alone.

When neither didn't moved, Mr Montford span around, wrapping a hand around Isaac's wrist and pulling him out of the office.

Isaac stumbled, almost yanked from his feet, following blindly as he craned his head to look back. The foggy haze was dense in his mind but muffled words, old images, moved closer to the surface, vanishing just before he could view them.

There was something so familiar about the being. His rich voice resonated within him as though he had heard it before. Instilling both fear and, at least for him, comfort. Those hard eyes were not as steely as they pertained to be, behind the ice was surely a soul.

He vaguely felt Ash grip his other arm, his legs beginning to slow as his heart and muddled memory urged him to cease his running. He allowed himself to be carried along, too bemused by the events and his own reactions to put up any real resistance.

Mr Montford's mind was also racing, working out what to do next. The museum was nearing early closing time, though there were still likely visitors milling about and staff closing things down.

The corridor seemed endless, stretching into eternity, sometimes it seemed they weren't moving at all, simply running in spot as peril reached ever closer.

He swerved to the right, bringing them further into the warehouse portion and away from the main museum area. The lights were flickering as if they were also afraid, casting an eerie hue over everything.

Old exhibits lay hidden in boxes and mannequins, devoid of the elaborate accessories, loomed sullenly in place. It wasn't a place that emanated safety or comfort but the door was heavy and it was far better than running into an innocent tourist. 

Reaching the end of an artefact-lined aisle, he skidded to a stop and swung around panting, settling them with a half-terrified, half-truculent gaze.

"Go and pull the fire alarm and leave, that will get people out, I'll try and keep that-that thing occupied."

"But-"

Isaac began to stammer, trying to object but his glare silenced him, as did something else; a warmth pressing against his breast. He looked down, moving his shirt collar aside to see a dull red light pulsed there. The amulet was glowing.

He had little time to muse over it as Ash hurried moved to pull the hefty lever to sound the alarms, the ring instantly screaming out and piercing the eardrums.

"That should lessen the risk for others," Mr Montford's said sedately, dragging his hand through his damp hair "but that is only one minor victory."

As he spoke, one by one, the lights flickered and fused, the bare bulbs exploding and sending a dangerous rain of glass down below.

Dodging the cascade around the corner his heart sank as an eerie thin mist trickled out into the empty corridor.

The shards of glass moved aside with the soft, sweet sound of a dozen wind chimes, blown into the encapsulating darkness by an unseen force.

The creature moved nonchalantly, his step exuding confidence and the knowledge of having the upper hand.

He eyed the trio with hidden amusement. Throughout the ages the futility of human endeavours had always been a great joke. However, even he would admire the endurance they showed, the desire for survival.

Since they were known as children of the Gods then it was a high credit to those they had been crafted in the image of.

"What...what the hell are you?" Ash breathed, pressing himself against the wall so hard his back began to ache.

He could feel it smirk behind the mask as it glanced about. He had missed the intoxicating feel of power and the arousal of fear, more potent than any aphrodisiac. The knowledge he held their lives in his hands and that of the entire race.

The questions went unanswered for some time. The God had no obligation to reply to the queries of an insolent mortal who dared to try and meet his eyes. Slaves and lesser creatures kept their heads low and the quiet only enhanced their terror.

Gesturing for Ash to stay still, Isaac's hand closed about the scarab and took a bold step forward. The fear that flowed so fiercely through the veins of his colleagues didn't seem to affect him. The aura from the gem had throbbed in his hand spurred him onward, giving an assurance of safety that he felt he had known once before.

"Please, just answer him," he said quietly but firmly. "At least be honourable enough to give us your name."

Time seemed to stand still and man and beast stood before on another. Even the rain outside, rain so heavy it cracked the windows and bounced like pebbles on the concrete, could not be heard in the stillness.

"I am he who makes mortals tremble, weakling..." The beast sidled forward, clawed fingers wrapping themselves about Isaac's neck, forcing his head up to study. "To think such feeble creatures were the one to break the chains that bound me...for that you can pick your own death as reward. I can condemn you to the flames of wild fires or to the bolts from the heavens...for soon all those will blight your earth and blood will run in rivers."

His fingers flexed and one squeeze could have easily snapped his neck, but instead he gave a low growl and hurled him aside as the glow of the amulet commanded his attention. He flicked his wrist, flinging the doors of the warehouse off the hinges before Isaac could connect with them, landing in the broken splinters and shattered metal.

The breath was taken from him as his back slammed into the floor and sharp pain ran through every inch of his body. The warmth of the amulet was joined by another, wetter heat as blood ran from numerous cuts.

"And I thought all those gems had been lost before my time was suspended..."

"Leave him be!"

Mr Montford's voice echoed boldly in the quiet.

Isaac hadn't noticed him move towards where the unused exhibits were, where, about halfway down the rows of shelves, he grabbed a replica Dynastic-period bow and matching quiver of bronze-tipped arrows, slinging it over his shoulder before turning back.

Eyes narrowed and far more confidence in his voice than he felt, the curator stared the approaching figure down as he projected his normally soft voice.

"Touch him and I will shoot!"

The beast tilted his head coolly, showing no sign of being intimidated by the weapon. He gave a low chuckle.

"Your weapons won't harm me. Time has passed but human stupidity remains the same it seems. I will see that worthless blood run. And all the rest of humanity will submit or perish." He stepped closer "First your rivers will run red...and the other plagues will follow."

Mr Montford jumped aside as the stiffened glass of the nearest window chipped as the rain hammered against it, droplets being to leak through.

Outside the traffic had come to a standstill as the windscreens cracked and splintered and people clamoured and babbled about the sinister rain that tore the sky asunder. He was pleased with the growing chaos as the mechanical chariots squealed to a halt, their owners abandoning them to swear and curse at the water that overwhelmed the drains.

Then the anger turning to horror as it thickened, turned crimson. The disbelievers among them tried to rationalise, God didn't exist. That was all myth!

But who could deny sight before them?

"Ash, get out of here," Mr Montford said imploringly "I don't know what you can do but there must be something! While it's distracted!"

Ash felt as if his blood was ice in his veins and that one movement would have him shattering into smithereens to lie amongst the cemetery of glass and grime. He forced a whimper and gripped the doorframe, practically having to drag his own feet from their hold on the floor. His sneakers gave a screech and his heart raced faster as he stumbled, his footfalls sounding like an earthquake in his ear.

The creature's eyes had settled on Isaac again, even looking away he could feel their gelid weight on his form. His right hand seemed to flutter, tempted to reach out but dropping back at the last second.

"Ishaq..."

Isaac looked up sharply, the name resonating in some manner. He canted his head in curiosity but the unvoiced query went ignored. He had heard that name before, some time, some place, but like many things it seemed lost in that mist that refused to clear.

He told himself he didn't believe in past lives, he only believed in what he could see and touch. Even if history was just a fable people had agreed upon if he was to quote Napoleon.

His upbringing had been one of doctors, hospitals and caution. There had never been any time for flights of fancy or fairy tales. Schooling had opened up the world of mythology and literature but that was all it was, words on paper.

Mr Montford abruptly broke the tension between them as he hurled the crossbow at the creature's feet, breaking it pieces. It was a foolhardy move as the beast stiffened with anger and whirled around, delivering a crippling blow to the side of his face, tearing skin and flesh with his claws.

He saw stars, hearing a crack and feeling spasms of pain ricochet from broken bone. Blood streaked the floor in a gruesome mosaic and his cry outdid the sirens of the alarm.

Falling to the floor he tried to quell the flow with his sleeve, holding his other hand up in futile defence.

"Stop! He wheezed - hoping some form of science fiction, horror or fantasy movie stereotype would save them, or at least buy some time. "Wh-" He paused to cough, phlegm gathering in his throat. "What year do you think it is?"

The beast met the gaze with the apathy of a child who was disinterested in its toy. He knew what the man was trying to do and he attempt did not worry one who controlled the elements and whose heart was as black as pitch.

He took a step back, looking towards the window. It was a strange world that met his eyes, grey and stone with so much that he had never before seen. Chariots of varying sizes moved without the aid of horses, in the air was a metal bird flying high above those of flesh and feathers. How odd. The people scuttled in countless numbers like ants, their clothing thick and elaborate.

He frowned, mulling over his options. This was a world he didn't know and it was clear even from here that none acknowledged the Gods who once ruled, if any at all. Even with the powers he had the task he thought would be easy might well prove more difficult.

He had one option to fall back upon, one he never took kindly to. Blend in with the humans while he became more accustomed to what lay outside. Learning more might make it more enjoyable to bring it down as well.

He had no idea what the current year was. It was something he was that ashamed to admit to, even if that embarrassment was not clear from his voice.

"The years have passed so I do not know. When I was confined it was the year 69 BC, I believe you call it, not that such a trivial fact matters..." He gave a flick of his wrist, sending Mr Montford flying back with a furious force and colliding with the models of the samurai soldiers.

He gave a wolfish grin, he teeth oddly pointed and a low chuckled growled in his throat. Slowly he turned to acknowledge Isaac, studying as one would a sacrificial animal.

Isaac remained still, his fingers tight about the warm amulet. Whatever the cause he knew that it was one reason he was still alive.

"Our foolish creator erred when he made me," he answered, his voice a rich purr "he crafted a heart as black as tar and one whose soul lacked light. I lived within the lakes of fire, the destroyer of millions and the eater of eternity. Even the others cowered before me. Only Atum himself thought he had any hold of me and he realized he had crafted one who could reap even him."

He approached predatorily, his bold eyes sparkling as he related the tale. Isaac couldn't move, the glow of the amulet burning his skin through his hoodie. Indeed, it was supposed to protect him but certainly no one had expected him to help start Armageddon.

The voice sent strange shivers through him, pooling hotly in his stomach. Even if he wanted to pull himself to his feet and follow Ash it was impossible. A hapless pawn in the claws of an astute player.

"So great was their fear that I was frozen in time, erased from the minds of mortals. That is until one was careless enough to free me and I swore every one of you would perish, I will live up to my title of the destroyer."

The Gods had all been confined to the pages of books but that did not mean they faded from existence. They felt their powers diminish as time slipped by and eventually conceded defeat as other took their place.

When they fell from power they deigned to integrate with the human race, becoming one with them even though their knowledge and longevity remained intact. However, if they were needed, they would respond to a mortal, it was a rarity though and only if a situation was dire.

The rain turned to blood and it filled the air with the heavy metallic scent like rusted iron and the heavy thick liquid made all feel sick to the stomach but Isaac listened to the deity's words, trying to paint a picture of a time long past of gods that actually did exist among humanity. It was a difficult truth to bear. But whether it was craziness or not something had to be done.

They had to stay alive and Isaac knew that anymore intervention from his employer would end his life. He was stronger and for some reason the 'God' seemed to be holding back from ripping him apart. The blow he gave showed only a fraction of what he could do, a horrific injury from one strike. He could only hope Mr Montford didn't succumb to pain and injury.

He was lying prone on the floor, a small puddle blood pooling under his injured cheek and his arm set at an odd angle. His broken glasses glittered nearby but his eyes were still focused, albeit not on the situation about him.

Pausing the creature reached out his other hand, rubbing a slender clawed finger Isaac's cheek; the tip dug it, grazing a red ladder on the skin.

Isaac shuddered, that heat growing ever stronger. The soft musk that radiated from the creature's skin sang of an age long past, one he dreamed about so often and where his heart lay.

'Perhaps more literally than I might have thought.'

"You I might have a use for, until my task is done." His nails dug in firmly "that is if you can swear obedience."

'Again,' Isaac's thoughts continued on their fanciful dance, blurred images pounding in his head like a brewing migraine.

'My loyalty was true.'

He said nothing and nodded, entranced by the eyes fixed on him and the sensations they lit in every nerve.

"You will follow..." He stepped away, a mist rising about him and his form beginning to fade.

Mr Montford managed to shift, watching helplessly. Isaac was still in his grasp and fading with him.