Hector- Sight

Drew looked past Hector and back at the corpse on the table. Brutus’s body seemed to be weaving where it sat, lurching one way and then the other as if evading a series of blows. Its wailing had begun once more.

“What’s the matter with it?” asked Drew.

Hector didn’t answer; he was looking left and right around the body, as if anticipating whatever imaginary foes the dead man faced.

“They bite!” cried the corpse. “Teeth so sharp!” Its hands came up beneath the sheet. Through the dim light Drew could see the silhouette of Brutus’s mangled limbs.

“Hector?” asked Drew.

Again, the Boarlord didn’t answer, his own head flicking about now, around the room, over his own shoulder, behind Drew. His face was pale and his eyes were wide.

“Drew…” said Whitley, her voice thick with terror.

“Hector!” shouted Drew. He’d seen the chaos of communing before. He had to end this before it went the same way. He leapt forward and dropped to his knees beside Hector, whose head flashed about, his mouth slack and gibbering. Brutus’s corpse on the table was shaking now, battered from side to side by an invisible force. Drew could hear a ripping sound. The corpse was screaming now, dying all over again.

“Hector, make it stop!” he shouted, shaking him. “We have what we need!” When Hector didn’t respond, Drew slapped him hard across the face.

The body was lifting into the air now, bouncing against the tabletop.

Drew smacked Hector once more. “Hector!”

The Boarlord suddenly snapped to, his eyes blinking back into focus.

“Yes,” he babbled. “Make it stop. Make it stop.” He opened his left palm, black with the liquid wax that remained hot against his flesh. He held it up to Brutus’s corpse as it thrashed about, tormented by its invisible attackers.

“Return whence you came!” he shouted, and slammed his palm into the ground. Instantly the body stopped its demonic dance, collapsing in a heap of torn flesh and bone on the table, the sheet slowly fluttering as it settled over it once again.

B1 P1 C5