Team of Seven Heroes Short Tales 4 Chapter 5

5.

Junior

Abraham rushed from the Dining car to the private car, and found the doorway locked. He looked to the side and saw two horses were unmounted there. It could only mean the riders were in there and the petite was in danger. He stepped back and then jumped up to grab the ridge before he climbed up. He walked along the top and then on instinct he moved his right feet. It was a good move for the sharpened blade appeared from below; cutting the wooden panel that was part of the ceiling. He saw the gleaming blade was about a foot higher and then on instinct, he stepped back three steps to avoid the protruding blade that was trailing his steps. He had reached the edge and fell over. He did a body turn and landed on his feet but used the momentum to push himself against the locked door. He impacted and broke through to land on his face. He then looked up and saw the gleaming blade had followed him there levelled at his face.

“Stop, Taro-san. He is …” Abraham looked up and saw the figure wielding the blade was actually the man he saw earlier in the Dining car. The blade was part of the lengthy sword with the double handed hilt and the wielder was just as grim like the blade.

“I came to help….” It was the Abraham saw the two dead riders lying in death poses with the blood profusely flowing from the chest and neck. “I think you are okay.”

“Arigato-gozimas, Sir. My guard will protect me.” The lady replied. “We are safe here.”

Abraham nodded and then slowly stood up. The blade did not move an inch from his nose and moved with alongside his posture.

“I will go now.” Abraham replied.

“No, please stay. Taro-san is hurt. He may need …. medicine.” It was then Abraham saw the wound on the sword wielding figure’s lower abdomen. “He is hurt.”

The sword wielder then fell to his knees with the right hand using the sword to balance himself. Abraham had seen many types of wounds including those by the bullets. He had also treated them as taught by his father. He rushed forward and assisted the man to the nearby seat. He pulled away the sword and left it on the flooring. He peeled away at the layers of cloth and looked at the wound. Two things helped the man; the weak powder in the rifle and the double thick layers dampened the impact. The bullet did penetrate the flesh but it stopped short of the organs but the impact pierced some arteries and the bleeding was bad. He applied pressure in the wound while figuring out the next move.

“Barricade the door. I need to work on him.” Abraham told the lady. “The bullet had to come out.”

“I ….” The lady looked at him but Abraham had saw the candle and reached for it. He then asked if she have the fire stick. She still stood there looking at him.

“Fire…. Light this.” Abraham looked at her and tried to explain his need. She then motioned to the table and he saw the fire stick. He grabbed it and lighted the candle. He heard the shots outside and there appeared to a stand-off between the bandits and the passengers. He took out his dagger and placed it above the flame. He needed to get it hot like what his father told him before. While he was doing it, he looked at the lady.

“Close door…. please.”

“I can’t. It’s the work of the servants.” The lady replied. “I am Lady and do not do such tasks.”

Abraham sighed. He had met one like her before on his hunting trips. She claimed to be a Princess and will not lift a finger to help. It worked for a while until they were cornered by the mobs. She had then grabbed the sword and defended herself. His father had a hand in telling her something which apparently frightened her.

Abraham was to stand up for the barricade when the wounded man pushed himself up and then toppled the cupboard to block the doorway. With that effort, his wound burst opened and more blood spurted out. Abraham helped him down and then grabbed the dagger. He told the man to brace himself.

“I can help.” The lady crouched down and held the other in her arms. The wounded man struggled to free himself but she told him off and he leaned back with his grim expression unchanged. Abraham reached in with the dagger and soldered the bleeding arteries as taught by his father until he found the bullet. He plucked at it and then drew it out. By then the wounded man was unconscious and Abraham proceeded to look for materials he can use as bandages.

“Use this.” The lady handed him the section of the cloth she cut away from her thick layers. He grabbed it and smelled the scent on it. He applied the bandage and secured it with long strips of cloth. With that done, Abraham looked to the lady and smiled.

“He will live.”

Living was on the mind of the passengers including the Adventurer Club of Birmingham members. They were confronting the two dark robed gentlemen who were in league with the bandits. The two dark robed men were armed with the small scimitars drew from their hidden space under the robe.

“I say, old chaps. We got here a pair of roughers who thinks they can fight us.” Major Chips sprung the new topic of their conversation then. They normally talked on their long across the county walks with stops to admire the churches or the villages before popping in for the essential ale or whatever they called beer there. That was their first trip overseas to see the pyramids and nubile tanned skin ladies. They have with them was their walking cane then.

“Nothing like the Geordies we took on last summer at …. where was that, Peter? I can’t recall now.” The one standing next to Major Chips was ex-military and retired a Sergeant Major. He was having problems remembering things but his pugilist skills were impeccable with his left paw.

“It was near to Dundee, Malcolm. And it was not the summer but autumn. Bloody time to go there then. Cold than my nuts during winter.” Peter replied. He was a retired Lieutenant from the Artillery and spent his better days hauling howitzers up and down the Frontier. He used to tell his men; you don’t fire them until you can see their runny nose clearly.  

“Quit the yapping, fellas. They are not keen on your talks. We are confronted by the enemies.” Trust the last one to address their issue well. His name was Barry and he was a Scouser from Liverpool and ex-infantry. “I said we stopped being an arl arse.”

“Charge!” Trust the leader of the group, Major Chips took the lead at the two hooded gentlemen.

It was somehow inspiring the others.

“Fire on my command.” Sergeant Gunter stepped off the train onto the sands while giving commands to his platoon. “Legio Patria Nostra!’

His platoon had then dismounted and held their rifles to the shoulder while shouting “We promise! To serve! With honour! And loyalty!” The rifles will roar in unison as if they were in Camaron, Veracruz once more.

“Aim and fire again!” The Foreign Legionnaires once more proved the bravery to the enemies.

“Withdraw before we lose more warriors.” The leader of the bandits then called out. He was named Akbar the Dark; the tall and dark leader of the then reduced numbers of warrior from forty to twenty-nine left. He rode a white Arabian breed and held the Mauser rifle. He signalled the others and then his brother, Salleh who commanded the three snipers.  He walked to his horse hidden in the wadi there ever calmly while his warriors carried the dead and wounded. He left behind seven warriors not including the two in the train. The duo had given him the signal that the intruders are on the train and he came riding with his warriors to stop them. The unspeakable must never be unearthed and allowed to roam openly.

Such was the law laid by the Masters generations ago.

“Akbar, why are we retreating? If we let them go on, they will soon travel by caravan to the Hidden City?” Salleh asked of him.

“We lost good warriors there. The scouts did not warn us of the armed men. The Legion we knew but what of the others.” Akbar replied. “Your warriors did well to keep them at bay.”

“So, tell me. Do we leave then?” Salleh was young and eager to prove his warrior self.

“For now. The train will resume and then it will rest at the next town. There we will strike once more. And if need be from there until we kill them all. That is my word as your brother.”

 “And mine to you will be to protect you with my life.” Salleh replied.

“Swear not such oath, brother. I will not have your death on my conscience.”

Team of Seven Heroes Short Tales 4 Chapter 4

4.

Senior

The Guild Hall was huge with the rounded ceiling that reached to the skies with the motifs and caricatures of the universe on it. The four of them were seated beneath the rounded ceiling with the surrounding walls lined with racks of assorted designs and in between the racks were the status of the departed fighters and leaders of the Guild. There were six past leaders and only one worthy fighter to have its place.

“The dead demon you killed is believed to be named Apep, the one who was known as Lord of Chaos. However, we believed that to be untrue on the demon’ name. The demon you killed was one of the demons from the Underworld. It may had been called up from there by the cult members of one other named Imhotep the High Priest. They await his return here but his soul had contaminated the followers.”

“But we killed the demon…” The lady snapped in.

“Kill is not enough, my daughter. You have to terminate the demon so that it will not rise once more. What you may had done was kill its current shell but the soul lived on.” The Master of the Arts told the lady then unhooded the cloak and showed a radiant face with the blue eyes, and her hair was cropped short unlike most local ladies. They were seated there with Abraham and one other was an associate of the Master; Sheikh Omar El-Harun.

“Which is why I have invited Abraham Van Helsing to be with us. He is a hunter of the demons. I have known him for sometime when I travelled north” Master Osis introduced then introduced the others.

“Sheikh Omar El-Harun, Master of the Ancient Knowledge; a scholar and yet he pursued a path to eradicate the demons that have purged the land here. He assisted me much in the understanding the demons and how to terminate them.”

“My daughter whom I believe have introduced herself to Abraham. An embarrassing action of her which she has tainted the family name. I do apologise, Abraham but in our land, the ladies are to be ….”

“To be at home and obey the father but I am the daughter of Master Osis…” The lady voiced out in defiance.

“And you may not be if I were to marry you off soon. Then you will be the obeying your husband and not a care of mine.” Master Osis cautioned the daughter.

“And you won’t until you can find one that could manage your daughter and not tarnished the family name.” The lady replied once more in defiance.

“May the God teach me how to suffered with his daughter of mine.” Master Osis looked to the Sheikh. “Perhaps the ancient scrolls could show me the light to my problem.”

“On your daughter, I have none nor of sons that could I offered.” Sheikh Omar replied. “I hold her close to my heart like my own daughter and her antics are reserved for you. With me, she is a pretty lady with affection of a daughter towards me.”

The lady then took the cue to serve more tea to the Sheikh and the guest but ignoring the father. His stern expression made her change her mind and served the tea.

“Master Osis, I hold no answer to the appearance of the demon but its not Apep. It’s a conjured demon of the likes that only one could bring from the underworld to serve its purpose.”

“You speak of the unspeakable one. Why would he do that now when before this, all there was of him was his followers doing his acts of murder and pillage.” Master Osis looked to the Sheikh.

“You speak wisely on that. The followers were doing that but they did more than pillaging. They have taken some of the ancient scrolls from the Citadel archive. Long hidden there and forgotten but access allowed to the few like myself.”

“The ancient scrolls? I thought they were destroyed by the Romans for they feared the magic it could perform.” Master Osis cut in. “I never knew it still exist.”

“It was never destroyed. It was the useless scrolls that were delivered to the fires. The ancient scrolls could not be burned by fire made by Man but by the flames of the Underworld. It survived through the circles of time and then it was hidden for centuries. Only the selected scholars are allowed access to it. That was also done under the watchful eyes of the Desert Guardians. They are to take your life if you are seen to be a threat or influenced by the scrolls.” Sheikh Omar explained. “The scrolls do have its own life and it may taint the innocent or the unwary ones. The Guardians knew the sighs and their punishment is a merciful one compared to the one when you served the demons from the scrolls.”

“Like the one we killed.” Abraham had been listening then spoke up. “Terminated?”

“Yes, you killed the shell of the demon but it lives on. It’s probably in another form now.” Sheikh Omar replied. “The shell you killed is one named Master Isiah of the Persian descent. He was with us at the Citadel for some years and was an ardent student of the scrolls. He was given the needed caution and even the protecting talisman and spells should he be intruded. I guess he had failed and serve the release demon.”

“A body elongated like the serpent and move like one.” The lady decided to add her weight to the discussion.

“True, one that resembled Apep but not of the Lord of Chaos. It’s a manifestation of another. The serpent is a servant of the powerful demons as depicted in many readings of the different faiths. The serpent by itself is evil but it held a servitude to the powerful demons. Its form that could move rapidly and squeezed in tight enclosures had its use by the demons to do the evil acts.”

“Or to influenced others.” Abraham relate to his own faith on the role of the serpent. “I have disliked those creatures.”

“Pray tell us, that this demon is not of the unspeakable one.” Master Osis cut in. “Our forefathers have hardly survived their last battle with it. They could only banish the unspeakable back to the Underworld.”

“And from there, the unspeakable had remained for an eternity but as you have said, killed but not terminated. It lives on there, and of recent times, its influence can be seen to grow wider and stronger. Even the rumours spoke of the circle of Sheikhs are intruded upon and some have professed loyalty towards it.”

“Pardon the stupidity in me but who is the unspeakable one?” Abraham asked.

“You are what you claim to be. If we said unspeakable then that it’s the name we can used.” The lady hit back at the Northerner. “It could be the sands that colluded your mind.”

“Hasnah Isis, your manners tarnished the family. Apologises to Abraham now.” Master Osis displayed his anger at the errant daughter.

“No, Master Osis. The apology should come from me to …. Hasnah Isis.” Abraham replied. “I am the fool here not to understand the discussion.”

“Then perhaps I could help. I will have my servants sent over some reading materials which may tell you more but need not hear from us or anyone of the demon.” Sheikh Omar cut in. He then looked at Abraham. “Where is your abode on your city?”

“Huh? Oh, Its in the local rest house next to the Guild.” Abraham replied. “I hold a room above at the rear.”

The Master of the Arts cursed quietly at his daughter when he saw the gleam in her eyes. He regretted not marrying her at the age of fifteen to the distance nephew of his whose father was an oil trader. The young lad was scared of his wits when Hasnah appeared over his bed dressed in white and wield a dagger at the groin. She had told him if he was willing to be castrated. The young lad left that early dawn without taking back the gift he brought for the engagement. That was also the end of the family ties with the other cousin and others soon took their distance.

“Maybe she will be married far away.” Master Osis muttered to himself.

“I will get more tea, father.” The lady took to her task much to the surprise of the father. It was unlike her but maybe the sands got into her mind too.

Team of Seven Heroes Short Tales 4 Chapter 3

3.

Junior

Young Abraham sat at the table in the Dining car enjoying the sandwich made for him made by the Normandy Slasher aka Madame Deauville. He was also given a feast of the Dunkirk tales from the whaling annual trips to Iceland waters to the pretty girls there. He enjoyed it all when the iced drink was served to him.

“We have this huge slab of ice kept in the cooler box. And we chip at it for the ice. Then we placed it in the jug filled with lemonade and sugar to taste.”

It was all wonderful and was better when Abraham saw the figures that stepped into Dining car. It was a squat framed figure dressed in some layers of cloth and had on a dark skirt but the twin swords tucked into the waist sash was not ornamental. The hair piece was unique with the swept back hair and knotted at the top but the expression was white with the stern looking eyes. The figure was followed by one other which was the focus of Abraham. It was a petite lady as was described by Madame Deauville, and was dressed in tightly wrapped dressing and wore sandals. Her hair piece was a well formed half fan design and her face was caked with some white powder and the pouted lips red.

“Bouiner young one (That’s Normandy slang for ‘do nothing young man’) and the lady stepped over to greet her new guests. Abraham heard the lady talking to the petite lady and they both laughed. So much for laughter for the stern looking guy was still in his unchanging expression.

“Oui, I will get it serve now. Ain’t a salmon unless it’s from my catch.” Madame Deauville then scots off and the two foreign guests took the next table with Abraham facing the stern figure. He averted away his look to the sweeping sand dunes.

Abraham then heard the lurched and the sound of the brakes applied by the locomotive. It was a jarring uncomfortable sound while the train slowed down to stop some distance ahead. Madame Deauville had then stepped out with the ‘plat de service’ which she balanced with her body while parading towards the foreign guests.

“Here, Cherie. Our very own fresh salmon as if it was from the morning catch.” Madame Deauville then pointed out the slices of lemon. “That may make it more palatable.”

“Thank you. I have my own condiments.” Abraham heard the other lady spoke and it was melody to his ears. He was to leave out of courtesy for privacy to the guests, when he saw the Train Master stepped in.

“Pardon me but we have a wee bit of problem on the tracks. We shall be underway soon.” The man struggled across the narrow aisle when he squeezed past Madame Deauville. Abraham could see it was intentional with the pair engaged in parting closure of breaths.

“Then we are to wait here.” The foreign lady voiced out and was replied with stern words that no one understand but the two foreigners.

“I shall speak in whatever language I want. I am no longer in Kyoto.” The lady replied to her older figure. “You will do your part to protect me, Taro-san. Those were the orders of my father.”

The older man turned away from his protected subject and saw Abraham looking at him. He sneered and then looked away but then Abraham had taken leave of the Dining car. He went past the passenger cars and saw many were disquiet then. He found their cabin and went in. His mother was still sleeping.  He took to his seat and nudged him into a comfortable posture. He had not settled in when he heard the sound of gunfire. He looked out the window and saw armed riders approaching the staled train.

“Young fool!” That was Abraham’s mother who was calling after the him when he grabbed his bag and left the cabin.

Abraham slung the bag across his chest and reached into grab the contents. He took out the belt that had the dagger on the right in the holster and then he grabbed the greaves for his left hand with the built-in metal three pronged hooks handed to him by his father. The righthanded greaves in his bag and told by his father that he was only to use it on the final task; a task which he was never told then.  

Abraham was ready.

He exited at the end of the carriage and grabbed railings to jump up onto the other carriage upper ridge there before he swung his right leg up. He was then over the ridge and on the carriage roof. He ran half crouched along it and saw the riders were at the cargoes cars. He counted twenty riders among the bandits that fired their guns to scare the train passengers. They were dressed in dark clothes covered from head to feet with only the face seen. They were armed with rifles and scimitars. Six of the riders have dismounted to approach the last carriage. He heard the roar of the heavy rifle and two of the approaching riders were down. The others returned fire and more firing came from the last carriage. That could had been the Train Master. His car was the last one. He was protecting the cargoes.

Then more shots came from the passenger cars.

Abraham saw the shots came from the car where the Foreign Legionnaires were seated. The bandits on the horses then turned away and retreated leaving five dead on the ground. Abraham thought it was over but he was wrong. There were more shots and it came from afar on the sandy dune. The shots were aimed at the passenger cars. It was well aimed and some shouts of help could be heard.

“Sniper!”

And the sniper had seen Abraham. He was shot at but missed by inches. He got up and ran along the passenger car rooftop and was shadowed by the sniper bullets at his feet. He ran and leapt to the next which was where the five rough looking gentlemen occupied below. He was still running when more shots came from below. He stopped and then turned around to run back the way he came but he slid down the end of the car and jumped to the cover of the car on the other side. He stood up and saw himself facing three hooded dark bandits who had used the distraction to approach from that side. The riders on the other side was a diversion.

“Oh…” Abraham backed up on his feet but was surprised to see the three bandits go down with multiple shots in the chest. He turned and saw the shooters were firing from the passenger car windows. It was the rough looking men who shot them.

“Howdy, boy. Are you fine?” Abraham looked up into the window and smiled.

“Good. We will cover you if you get back in. There could be more of them out there.” One of the shooters called out. He was with blonde hair and donned a scarf on the neck. He held a handgun that resembled a Webley.

Abraham nodded and then saw there were more bandits at the front of the train. The bandits were headed for the locomotive. He ran towards it with concern for his mother who was in the third car behind the locomotive. He saw a bandit stood in his path with the rifle levelled at his face. He did not stop but picked up his speed and then he jumped to land the kick onto the bandit at the chest. It was a risky move but his main concern was his mother. He dropped the bandit and ran on. He reached the passenger car and climbed in. He saw the door to the cabin was partially open. He rushed there to see his mother having pushed the bandit out of the window.

“About time you return. Can we stay together now?” Abraham’s mother displayed the dagger she used to kill the bandit. She wiped it on the window drapes and then replaced it into her right ankle holster at the boot there. She was dressed in the white tunic and the wide pants that reached her ankles above her army boots. She grabbed her own bag and retrieved the shoulder holster that held the Webley and the spare ammo. She slung that one before pulling out the belt for the waist with the twin daggers on the sides.

“How many are there?” The mother looked at her son.

“I lost count. Twenty or maybe fifty.”

“You are hopeless in the counting like your father. We will stay here and protect your father.” Abraham remembered that they were carrying his father’s remains and he doubt anyone could hurt those ashes. Then he got reprimanded by his mother.

“What did I tell you about your pants?”

Pants or pan was not the main concern of Madame Deauville swung the pan into the bandit’s face. That one had the misfortune to climb into the Dining car and was given the close-up impact. The bandit fell and the chef de Normandy descent picked up the rifle.

“Pooh!” The chef discarded the ancient rifle. She reached below the serving counter and took out the Enfield.

“If it’s not French, the next option is the British.” Madame Deauville loaded the rifle before pocketing some more bullets into the apron. She went to the window and aimed.

“Viva La France!” The shot took down the rider on the horse.

Team of Seven Heroes Short Tales 4 Chapter 2

2.

Senior

The streets in the night at Cairo was quiet after the call of prayers from the mosques, and most people have retired to their homes for their supper or their beds for the dawn of the next day. It was not so the young man then named Abraham Van Helsing. He was putting on his dark jacket over his tunic and pants of the same shades, with the waist belt holding the seven wooden stakes there. He had on both his forearms the leather cover to protect him from the slashes and on his both his hands he held the gauntlet with the build in metal three pronged hooks for scaling the walls that was once used by his father. The metal hook is spring activated with a length of twenty feet of wire. His face was uncovered but the thick beard there lent him the needed camouflage for the darkness.

Abraham looked to the skyline and make out the Citadel as his landmark. It was to his left with the moon on the right. He needed that to navigate his way in the city. He then stepped to the window and looked out into the street. It was deserted and the time to act was then.

“Travel safe, hunter.” Abraham heard the older man who was dressed in the thick robe and walked with the cane to support his weakening legs. He was the High Priest of the Guild and they have a problem which only a person like Abraham could help.

“He will be, Tarik. I know him well.” The other answered for Abraham. His name is
Ali Mina Osis. In Cairo, he was named the Master of the Arts. The master there looked at the man he had brought in from the cold northern continent to his homeland. He knew that despite his skills and with the Guild strength, the Devil still roamed the streets of Cairo then. He knew Abraham Van Helsing then as an adversary for both had mistaken each other for their hunts, and later became good friends.

“The Zhaitan of my lands are no different from yours. They sneaked out in the dark and hunt their prey. They drink the blood and discard the lifeless body.” The master recalled one of their many discussions but that one augmented their relationship to a deeper bond. They were seated in the tavern overlooking the river of Seine at Paris. The other was feasting on the stew with bread but the master had declined the food. He was careful of his meals to ensure that they are suitable for his faith.

“I have studied your demons form the archive of our records. The Van Helsing have not travelled far south but we have entertained brothers of the hunt from there. We have also entertained the ones from the Far East where the ships voyaged to now. Nothing is foreign to us in the records.”

“And you must come then, my good hunter. I have a hunt for you. We have a Shaitan that had evaded our traps and killed two of our best. We called it ‘Apep’ the Lord of Chaos. As we speak now, the Lord of Chaos have found followers that will do chaos in its name.”

“I am a demon killer and not a …. cult leader killer. I vanquished the demons for they are not of our being.” Abraham replied then. “I hunt the Vampires the Werewolves, the Banshees and even the Harpies but another human who believed himself as the demon is not my preference.”

“Apep or the Lord of Chaos may sound like another of us but its powers are not. It had defied our magics and even those we use of Man have denied its death. We think that the one we hunt may be of your kind; the blood drinker Lord. He may be here and not heard of at your land.”

That was enough to bring Abraham to Cairo. He jumped off the window and landed on the street below. He then took off for the nearby towers. For him to find the demon, he needed a vantage high point. He climbed the walls using the metal hooks. Soon he was perched above at the tower top looking at the city roofs. He knew that the night was early but there was no set schedule for the demon to appear but it did. It was the late hours when the night air was colder and the alert of the watchers was getting weaker. The demon was seen when the dens of bats were disturbed from their restful hunt of the night. He then spied the movement of a figure running across the flat roofing of Cairo’s huts. The figure was agile and swift in the movements. He noticed the figure was in pursuit and not fleeing. He moved his sight the front and saw the pursuer figure. It was too far to make out the shape but the later was as agile and swift but there was a difference. It had not the flight of wings but appeared to slither on the surfaces. Its frame crooked to the bends and lengthen for the walls height.

Abraham knew that was no blood drinker but still a demon. He leapt off the high tower with his arms spread out widely, and then with a pull of his thumbs, he released the canopy build into his shirt and he was able to swoop like the eagles. He moved his flight towards the prey and then swooped downwards. The arrow released by the pursuer almost hit Abraham on the chest but he avoided it when he turned his body. The turn made him lose height and he went crashing down. He pressed the switch to release the canopy and the used it like a floating carpet for the descent. He jumped at the last few feet and landed on the street to face the one who had shot him with an arrow.

“State your intention or faced my wrath.”

Abraham found himself facing a figure dressed in dark shades covered from the head to the feet with the narrow slit for the eyes. The figure was armed with the scimitar on the belt, the bow with the quiver of arrows, with the various smaller weapons attached to the belt that was slung across the chest. The figure had notched the arrow there on the bow aimed at him.

“Only to hunt demons and your wrath is not of my concern as yet. Its your life I am concerned on.”

Abraham rushed forward with his sight on the demon slithering down the wall behind the dark figure. He saw the figure too but it was to turn and then from the half-crouched posture, the bow was aimed at the slithering demon on the wall. The arrow released with force impacted on the demon in the midriff which was protected by scales. The demon fell to the ground and then it stood up. The demon stood at over six feet held a gaunt frame making it looked like a tree trunk than a human figure. The arrow was in the trunk of the demon.

Abraham had then jumped over the dark figure and landed with the metal hooks on his hands slashing at the demon from the neck to the lower part of the trunk for a body. The demon screamed and then slithered upwards with such swift moves. Abraham reached out once more to sink the hooks onto the demon back with the right hand. He then pulled hard at the demon to bring it down.

“The Demon’s army.” The dark figure called out to Abraham. “Run!”

The dark figure notched in the arrows and fired in succession three arrows at the approaching army of the demon. There were six of them and were armed with scimitars and spears. It was a crude army but the terror of that army was those were not living beings but of scales covered bodies. The three arrows found their marks but the remaining three had reached the dark figure. The dark figure slung the bow and pulled out the sword. The figure held the scimitar with both hands drawn across the chest. The scimitar swung out and with the blade smeared with blood that was not of red in shade but green. The figure then moved forth and with the scimitar thrust at the second attacker in the throat and then the right leg went out to kick the dead attacker to pull the blade out.

“You are slow.” Abraham had slashed the last attacker with the hooks with both hands doing the crisscrossed attack stance. That move slashed the throat on both sides and tore the veins there.

“And our demon fleeing here.” It appeared so but then the demon fell back onto the ground writhing in pain. It had landed at Abraham’s feet.

“The black adder venom will paralyse the body.” Abraham then thrust the hook on his right hand into the face of the demon. The hooks cut in deep and the demon stopped writhing.

“And who may you be?” Abraham Van Helsing was asked then.

“Abraham Van Helsing.”

“Hasnah Isis, the daughter of the trader ….”

“Master of the dark arts, Ali Mina Osis, I am fully acquainted.” Abraham replied. “I am glad to meet you.”

“Glad and not honoured? I am amused.” The figure pulled back the hood and lowered the mask. It displayed her beauty.

“I apologies. I am indeed honoured.”