Previously: As Metalord and Digger fought their way through China to reach Mongolia, violence had broken out in the pantry where Twain was being interrogated. And now…
Twain fell to the floor, borne down by Biryukov, who had slammed into him. Twain grabbed Biryukov’s arms to roll him off so that Twain could get up. But instead of rolling to the side, Biryukov went straight up, out of Twain’s grasp. Twain saw a look of shock and terror on the bald Russian’s face for just an instant before he was flung to the side to strike the wall head first. Something cracked, and Biryukov went limp.
But he didn’t fall. He was held up by a manlike creature, ten feet tall at least, hideous and massive. Although massive wasn’t at all the right word. It was, in fact, exactly the wrong word for a translucent creature that appeared more hologram than real–a thing with form, but not mass.
But it was big, a bestial man with pale, mottled skin, scraggly teeth, and long, white hair that whipped constantly in a wind that had arisen from nowhere and howled madly in the confined space of the pantry. It wore tattered and soiled robes of what had once been white silk.
The beast looked at Biryukov’s limp body held in its grasp. One huge hand gripped the front of Biryukov’s shirt while the other straddled the top of Biryukov’s bald head. The thing looked down at Twain and grinned at him as it twisted. Biryukov’s head turned almost completely backward with a horrible sound of bone grinding on bone, until the skin tore and blood dribbled down the side of his neck. The thing looked at Twain with glittering black eyes and chuckled.
[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]The worst part was than Twain could see Yi Fan inside the thing, the scar returned to her face and the white streak to her hair, her eyes rolled back in her head to show only dead white, her hands twisting to mimic the beast’s movements. Or perhaps guiding them…[/blockquote]But horrible as that was, it wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was than Twain could see Yi Fan inside the thing, the scar returned to her face and the white streak to her hair, her eyes rolled back in her head to show only dead white, her hands twisting to mimic the beast’s movements. Or perhaps guiding them.
Yi Fan’s mouth formed words, mirrored by the beast’s lips, and somewhere in the howling of the wind, Twain heard a deep, hollow voice say, “I wondered if I’d ever see you again.”
Twain was surprised. Not by the idea that he’d encountered the creature before–it was boviously the thing that had struck him down that night outside the City of the Moon–but that it remembered his face from that dark night. “You thought I’d be too much of a coward to come back and try again?”
“I thought you’d be smart enough to finally understand what it was you had unleashed,” the thing said.
The thing appeared surprised by the evident confusion on Twain’s face. “You don’t remember,” it said, then turned its head as if someone were whispering in its ear. “Travel back in time? That seems a little far-fetched, doesn’t it?”
“What do you mean, ‘unleashed?’” Twain asked.
The creature smiled hideously. “I mean, you set me free from my imprisonment, years ago. You brought my curse upon Yi Fan.”
What’s the story behind that? You don’t want to miss tomorrow’s eye-opening episode!
To read from the beginning, click here…