Hellhounds: Of Flesh and Steel

==Chapter I==
Almost there! You can make it! Just through the woods, a little farther!
The girl ran through the woods, ducking branches and hopping over fallen tree limbs. A grey and blue t-shirt was visible under her ripped and torn jacket, and though she was small framed she was moving at very high speeds. A soft rustling could be heard at her back, footfalls not her own. She glanced over her shoulder and picked up her pace.
With a jump she burst through a bit of shrubbery and into a small, barely lit clearing. Nailed to a tree was a worn sign displaying the words Welcome to Jacksonboro. From the looks of it, the sign had been hanging there for decades. It was rusted and pitted, the words still legible despite large patches of missing paint.
I seriously hope the estate isn't as forgotten as the sign!
Whatever was following her gave a low, rumbling growl. The girl continued running, past tree after tree and onto a deserted, roughly paved road. Just like the sign, no one had taken care of it in years. A miniature skyline stood out against the dusk light, a faint outline farther down the street.
The girl put on a burst of speed and raced down the middle of the uneven road. The thing pursuing her kept to the woods, appearing as a simple shadow in the dark. She looked back a second time to keep an eye on the thing. It was as close and diligent as ever.
Just down the street, almost there!
As the trees faded to the outskirts of the town, the thing moved from the woods to the darkened houses. It padded through the grass, icy, cold eyes gleaming in the faint light. The creature snapped its teeth and vanished from the girl's view. She kept on down the street, past houses that looked like they might have been nice a century ago. Now they were simply rotting, their boarded windows having long since grown over.
The thing reappeared from the shadows, now on the other side of the road. It was certainly a diligent beast, if nothing else. Panting heavily, the girl decided to take her chances with a turn off the main street. She followed this new round past more abandoned houses and towards another sign, this one in much better condition. Her eyes flicked over it as she ran.
Ruthven Estate? That's it! Almost there!
Looking over her shoulder again, the girl missed a brick half buried in the dirt. Her foot caught it, her ankle twisted, and she sprawled on the ground. She gritted her teeth in pain as she attempted to pull herself up, looking about wildly.
Soft footfalls came from behind her, accompanied by a low breathing. The thing from the woods had finally caught up to its fleeing prey. It threw its head back and howled, then glowered at the girl and stamped forwards. As it approached, its breathing increased, and it snapped its fanged maw. The beast paused, looked about, and pounced.
A flash of light and a deafening bang disoriented both attacker and victim. The creature yelped and fell to the ground with a heavy thud, giving a few final whimpers. Surprised, the girl looked up to find herself facing a pair of black leather boots. She craned her neck higher to see the silhouette of a woman dressed straight out of the Victorian Era, a smoking revolver in her hand. 
"Wha-, who are..." the girl moaned. As she lay there she realized that she was suddenly very tired. Exhausted, she blacked out.
==Chapter II==
The girl awoke with a gasp to find herself indoors, in a bed, with sunlight peeking in through the windows and a case of skulls staring at her from across the room. She looked to her right, at a small clock resting on a dresser. 7:33 AM. Her eyes went back to the skulls.
“Geez, is it Halloween already?”
“Oh look, you’re awake,” a voice came from her left. The girl jumped and turned to face the speaker. The voice belonged to the woman from the night before, now reclining in a chair. “It’s not a good idea to roam the woods at night around here. I guess I don’t need to tell you that, though.”
“You got that right. Where am I?”
“The Ruthven Estate.”
“Wait, the one with the sign? The one in my-” the girl stopped abruptly. 
“In your…?” Her host raised an eyebrow. 
“N-nothing. I’ll explain later. Have you got any food around here?”
“Plenty. Anything you want, honey?”
“Honey, really?” The girl rolled her eyes. "I know we're in the South, but that's like, Andy Griffith."
“Sorry. Old habit. So what do you like to go as?”
“Robyn.”
“So, Robyn, what do you feel like eating?” 
“Uh… anything.”
“That helps.” 
“You decide, and, um, well, what’s your name again?” Robyn frowned.
“Nephthys,” the woman inclined her head. 
“Nephthys,” the girl repeated slowly, sounding out the name. “I like it.” 
Robyn took the brief lull in conversation to look over her host. Nephthys was dressed in the same outfit as the night before, a black and purple frilled dress with a high collar. For the most part she looked quite ordinary, yet her eyes were a deep purple. Her lipstick matched her eyes and stood out on her pale face, below the tentacles painted onto her temples. The tentacles twitched and Robyn blinked. When she looked back they were still.
“Well, I’ll get food. Feel free to explore, there’s music in the living room and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in the library. Watch out for the swords, they’re all sharp!” Nephthys rose and was gone before Robyn could reply.
“Music, huh? I wonder what she listens to…” 
The girl stuck her head out into the hallway and peered down both sides. She spotted a bookshelf down to the right, and so headed left. The hall led into a large room filled with leather chairs. A wide fireplace sat cold in one wall, a hooked sword mounted above it. Robyn poked around for a moment, then found a record player under a stack of books. She picked one up and shoved the rest aside.
“The Masque of the Red Death. I really need to read this sometime,” the girl set the book down and opened a case of vinyls. She lifted several and inspected them all. “Heaven and Hell, The Number of the Beast, The Mob Rules, Holy Diver, Shout at the Devil, Blackout, Screaming For Vengeance… Wow, I was not expecting her to listen to any of this sort of stuff!”
Robyn moved Screaming For Vengeance to her free hand and deposited the rest back in the case. After a moment of fiddling with the record player, she fit the vinyl into place and flipped a switch. The tone arm slid to the side and dropped the stylus down on the record. A moment of silence passed before the music came blasting from the speakers at deafening volumes. Robyn shouted and spun the volume knob down to a more manageable level, just as Nephthys entered the room carrying a tray.
“Enjoying the music?” The woman smirked and set the tray on a chair. “Here’s some eggs. I think they’re scrambled.”
“You think?” Robyn asked, half confused and half aghast. 
“I don’t get many visitors for breakfast.”
“Don’t you eat?”
Nephthys just grinned.
 
“Ah well, looks fine enough,” Robyn shrugged. She swapped places with the tray and began eating as Nephthys listened to the music.
“The Hellion/Electric Eye, best song on the album,” the woman nodded.
“Personally, I prefer the title track.”
“That’s a good one as well. Really great album, it’s up there with British Steel.”
“You know, you really don’t seem like the metal type,” Robyn laughed. “I was expecting, I don’t know, Wagner or something.”
“Look a little bit further through the case, there’s one in there somewhere,” Nephthys replied with a chuckle. “Oh, I was meaning to ask you about this.”
The woman lifted a small pyramid the size of her palm. It was made of a dark silver metal which seemed to absorb light, strange as it might seem. Runes covered it, ominous symbols of an dark nature. Robyn flinched.
“Uh, what about it?”
“I found it on you when I saved you from the Fallen. How’d you get it?”
“One thing, what’s a Fallen?” 
“A Wolf of the Fall. Pets of things much, much nastier. One almost killed you last night. I would go for the body, but it’s probably already gone.”
“What happened to it?”
“I shot it. Wolves of the Fall were the original werewolves - that’s where silver bullets come into play. They also retrieve their dead. No evidence, you see."
“Wow. Well, to answer your question, I sort of found the little thing.”
“Really?” Nephthys looked surprised. “Do you have any idea what this is?”
“No. Should I? It looks old.”
“You shouldn't. It’s a Horn of Blasphemy.”
“A what?”
“Take dark magic, the Silence, and make a bomb out of it.”
“Wait, wait, wait, magic?”
“Yes. Magic. As I was saying, it’s a bomb. Presumably to kill me, which is why I’d like to know the full story of how you got it. And I’d like to know what you were about to say earlier, ‘in my…’” 
“Well it’s sort of a long story…” Robyn avoided Nephthys’ eyes.
“We have about a day before it comes. Enough time for a story.”
“Who or what is ‘it?’”
“The master of the Wolves of the Fall. The Huntmaster.”
==Chapter III==
“Alright, so let me get this straight,” Robyn said, waving her fork in the air. “There’s some sort of Huntmaster, who has a magic bomb and werewolves?”
“In layman’s terms, yes,” Nephthys nodded. “Although it now lacks the bomb, thanks to you.”
“Okay, okay. I think I understand.”
“Probably not, but I still want to know how you got ahold of a Horn of Blasphemy.”
“Like I said, long story. About a month ago I was exploring the woods around Halcyondale and I ended up in a little cave. Nothing special, although it did stink to high heavens. I decided to poke around a little bit and went further in than I had planned. Inside I found two things; human bones and that little pyramid thingy.”
“You’re brave,” Nephthys nodded. 
“Thanks. Well, the bones freaked me out a lot, so I grabbed the pyramid and ran. Went back home and kept it for a couple weeks. Then the dreams started.”
“Dreams?”
“Nightmares, really,” Robyn explained. “Dark things, monsters and creatures. But there was also a speck of light in all the darkness. This house. I saw this house. No name, just an image, and the knowledge that it was somewhere close by. I spent about a week in the library looking over maps and books on the area with no luck. Then I found it.”
“Let me guess, a photograph?”
“Right. A single photograph in a book on paranormal activity,” the girl made air quotes with her fingers. “‘The mysterious Ruthven Estate was the center of many rumors during the disappearances during the 20s.’”
“Pfft, none of that was true,” Nephthys snorted. “Put an end to them, actually.”
“I’ll want to hear more about that later. Anyway, I got a name and a place. Jacksonboro, ghost town. Took me a couple days to get here, though the wolf thing only showed up about two days ago.”
“Do your parents know that you’re here?” 
“Nah, I do this sort of thing a lot. Would have been a shame if the wolf had gotten me, though.” 
“Verily.”
“So yeah, here I am, in a ghost town talking to a mildly creepy lady about having stolen a magic bomb,” Robyn shook her head. “Seems like the plot of some cheesy movie.”
“Only mildly creepy?” Nephthys gave the girl an exaggerated, hurt look. “I’m used to being called very creepy.”
Robyn shrugged. “You seem pretty cool.”
“Thank you.”
“What now?”
“We wait. The Huntmaster will be here soon.”
“What are you going to do, set a trap?” 
Nephthys grinned wickedly. “Yes.”
A smile of her own spread over Robyn’s face. “Can I help?”
“Oh, yes...”
“Hey, do you hear that?” Robyn jumped up and ran to a window. 
“Come on, the library has a better view.”
Nephthys led the way to the library. Robyn gaped at the sheer number of books, crammed into massive shelves wrapping around the room and stacked on the floor. Her eyes then went up to the domed ceiling, through which the sky could be seen.
“There!” the girl shouted and pointed at a light quite low in the sky.
“Now that’s definitely not a shooting star nor a plane…”
“Flying saucer? Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing this week…”
“Actually you might be correct, at least about the origins of the craft,” Nephthys narrowed her eyes. “Come on, we need to get down to Jacksonboro as soon as possible.”
An hour or so later the two women stood in the middle of the street, right in the center of the ghost town. Nephthys placed the Horn of Blasphemy in the dirt and backed away. Behind her, Robyn held a pair of khopeshes, one blade for her and one for Nephthys. 
“Well, that’s that. It’ll be here soon,” Nephthys dusted her dress off and took one of the curved swords from Robyn. 
“What if the Huntmaster just sets off the bomb right here?” Robyn asked, giving the pyramid a wary stare.
“If it does that, sure, I’ll be dead, but the house will still be there. It wants to burn it all together. The books in the library aren’t just fiction or history, you know.”
“What are they, then?” 
“Grimoires, the Necronomicon, those sort of things. My father’s book as well as those of his comrades, the Liber Necropolis, Book of Sol, and the Verse Mortuus Omnibus. Just between you and me, there’s a copy of the Apocalyptic Chaos Infinium in there as well.”
“The last one sound pretty, uh, scary.”
“It is the book of apocalyptic chaos…”
“That’ll do it.”
A quiet settled over them, the calm before the storm. The two waited for what seemed hours, talking little. Then something caught Nephthys’ eye.
“Look. See that little blob in the distance? A Wolf of the Fall.”
“Do we kill it?” The girl shaded her eyes to get a better view.
“No. It’s just a scout. We wait for the Huntmaster.”
The wolf crept closer until it was only a few yards away. It sniffed the Horn of Blasphemy, paced about and snapped at the two women. Nephthys regarded it calmly with an almost bored expression on her face. She pointed the blade of her sword at the wolf.
 
“You. Dog. I wish to speak with your master.”
Robyn watched as the dog seemed to listen. It howled, giving her chills, and then backed off. Another dark shape appeared in the distance, moving far faster than the dog had. In just a few seconds the Hustmaster had arrived in its fiendish glory.
The Huntmaster was clad head-to-toe in a reddish-brown cloak, open down the front. A pair of red eyes smoldered under the dark hood, the only features visible in the darkness. The same darkness radiated out from the opening in the cloak, though armor made of bleached bones could be seen underneath. Chains hung from its skeletal arms, but even those were not the most notable thing. For a pair of massive antlers stretched out of its head, long and sharp. The Huntmaster stared at Robyn, appearing to totally ignore Nephthys.
“You returned my possession, little thief. Many thanks,” it spoke with a slightly raspy, masculine voice as it knelt and lifted the Horn of Blasphemy.
Nephthys cleared her throat. “Planning an explosive little stunt with that, were you, lich?”
“The Silence is the end. One world at a time, it shall fall.”
“Right, and I’m actually a servant of Akreious. Can all the jazz.”
“It’s simply my nature, as is your desire to stop me.”
“Right. Why were you pursuing her?” Nephthys nodded towards Robyn and slipped her hand to her revolver. The made a motion that appeared to be a vague shrug.
“She stole something that belongs to me. I wanted it back. Now I have it, thanks to you.”
“Just wanted to be sure of that. You do realize that I’ll have to kill you now?”
The lich sniggered. “I’ll do my best to return the favor.”
Nephthys spun her sword to her right hand and ended up with her revolver in the left. “Ready when you are.”
Unexpectedly the ground gave a rumble and a tremor, throwing all three off balance. Nephthys and the lich looked about in surprise. Aside from the sudden quake, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. After a tense moment of waiting, the duelists prepared to start.
“Um, N-Nephthys? What is that?” Robyn interrupted the brewing conflict, pointing off to the side. Both woman and lich turned to see a large, bipedal figure clad in silver metal. It made its way towards them. the ground shaking under each step.
Nephthys took a deep breath and looked Robyn in the eyes. “That, honey, is our flying saucer.”
==Chapter IV==
The figure stomped forwards and halted just in front of the lich. His polished, chrome armor was almost blinding in the sunlight. A pair of large inverted L-shapes were mounted on his arms, under which a round drum like a generator was fit. Red lights could be seen pulsing from the device. His face was covered in a helmet, harsh and angular with a vague canine motif.
“You. Cacodemon,” the armored being shoved a finger into the lich’s face, his crimson photoreceptors staring daggers through the cloaked one. “Many years ago your kind burned my world, slew my friends and butchered my family. I am the survivor, alone now and twisted into this frame of metal. I am Deucalion, the Gravity Hound, and on whatever honor I might have left, I swear I will end you for what you’ve done!”
“How quaint. Yours is the story of many. In time, silence will fall, and none of you shall be remembered.” A soft laugh rattled out from the other’s darkened hood. “I am Mevael the Huntmaster, Lich-liege and... Keeper of the Hounds.”
“‘Lich-liege?’ You’re the only one this side of Europe...” Nephthys muttered. “And a cyborg warrior… I must speak to the child of Sol about this one...
“I care not of titles. You will pay for the lives you’ve taken,” Deucalion thrust a hand out towards the lich. He twisted his hand around and clenched a fist. “You cacodemons are such a diverse lot… do you bleed?”
“No,” Mevael stated flatly. 
“Now that, that’s too bad,” the cyborg rammed his hands together. “I was looking forward to this.”
“I won’t disappoint,” the lich laughed. “Bassiker, Tindaellus, kill!” 
Two of the Wolves of the Fall came howling out of the woods, trailing slobber and snapping their jaws. Deucalion caught one out of the air slammed it into the other, sending both flying. The cyborg turned his attention back to the Lich, who cocked his head to the side.
“Fenrisoul! Amarolk!”
Another pair of wolves came charging from behind the Gravity Hound as their downed companions recovered. The four converged on the cyborg, who rammed his fists into the ground when the closed it. The alien technology within his armor worked its magic and an invisible wave crashed around them all. Aside from Deucalion, everything not firmly attached to the ground lifted into the air. 
The cyborg struck the ground again, and the Wolves of the Fall fell back to earth in the midst of a mess of bricks and trash. With snarls and growls the wolves stood and launched back into their assault. Deucalion used his powers again, quickly cutting out gravity in the surrounding area and kicking it back in. 
Meveal spun his burning gaze to Nephthys and Robyn. The girl yelled and brought her sword down towards the lich, who simply caught the blade with his hand. Nephthys winced and started forwards.
“Pathetic.” 
The lich wrapped his free hand around Robyn’s head, lifted the girl off the ground, and tossed her aside and putting her out in a daze. Nephthys brought her sword up, connecting with Mevael’s bony arm. He backhanded her away and turned back to Deucalion, to find the cyborg standing above the still form of the Wolves of the Fall.
“Curse you!” The lich shrieked.
Mevael raised a bony hand. Black smoke spread out from his fingers and into a long rod, which solidified into a spear. The weapon’s head was long and sharp, with notched edges forming barbs. With an abrupt spin he sent the spear up through Deucalion’s chest. The spear penetrated the cyborg’s armor with ease and burst out from his back, covered in violet blood.
 
“You killed my wolves, so now it’s my turn to kill a hound…”
Nephthys lunged forwards and grabbed one of Mevael’s antlers before he could finish speaking. She yanked it back, twisting the lich’s head around to face hers. With her free hand she lifted her khopesh and shoved it into the darkness of her foe’s face. The woman fell away, leaving the lich to howl in rage. 
Grasping the sword’s hilt, Mevael sent a surge of dark power through it. The blade snapped off halfway down the blade, leaving a chunk of metal between his eyes. He turned to Nephthys, who began to back away.
“No blade can kill me.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you aren’t the Witch-King. I’ve killed your type before…”
‘Ah yes, the crimson fool. Bloody Bones, I believe he called himself?”
“Lanthorne, Bloody Bones, the Red Death, he had a lot of names.”
“So he did. And now I shall kill you as you killed him.”
“Only we shall fall today, cacodemon!” Deucalion wrapped a hand around Mevael’s antlers and shoved inwards. Both snapped off in his hands, which were covered in his own blood. Dropping the antlers, the cyborg deftly snatched the Horn of Blasphemy from the lich’s belt. “Flee, humans. I shall end this.”
“Wait,” Nephthys raised a hand. Hurrying around the combatants, she traced a circle in the dirt and marked it with a Z. “Magic circle. Should contain the darkness at least somewhat. Godspeed, Deucalion the Gravity Hound.”
With that the woman ran towards Robyn, away from the struggling lich and massive cyborg. She shook the girl.
“Look, I don’t care how much your head hurts, you need to get up, now!”
“Alright already!” Robyn groaned and stood. The two stopped to watch the combatants, then turned and ran as fast as they could up towards the Ruthven Estate.
In the middle of the street, Deucalion watched them run. Once they were out of sight, he smiled within his helmet. 
“Farewell, cacodemon.”
The cyborg crushed the Horn of Blasphemy in his fist as Meveal howled in despair. Neither felt the blast as it exploded into a sickly green energy accompanied by wails of torment. The blast surged out and caught in the confines of the circle, where it raged and fought to escape. After a minute pressure, it the circle gave way and the blast imploded outwards. When the smoke cleared there was nothing left but a smoldering crater. 
Atop the hill leading up to the Ruthven Estate, Nepthys and Robyn both sat with binoculars, watching the destruction. Robyn swore.
“That was way bigger than I was expecting…”
“Well, remember, it’s a Horn of Blasphemy. It’s meant to kill people like me.”
“What exactly are people like you?”
“Let’s head back to the estate. I’ll explain on the way.”
Both women stood and started up the path. Nephthys began to explain as they walked. 
“So you see, there are these entities called Titan Princes…” 
===Trivia===
*The story name was suggested by SolZen.
Category:Zombiejiger
Category:Stories