Chapter 1
Arizona, 1876
The Ghoul was feeding on one of my cows when I found it. A low, dark shape hunched over the still twitching carcass, sucking at the hot warm blood that ran from the torn flesh. It sensed me, or more likely Grandfather lurking in the back, and lifted the red stained mouth to hiss with inhuman ferocity.
I fired the shotgun as it lunged, stepping sideways as the shadowy form lashed the space where I had been. The lead pellets gouged into its ebony flesh without slowing it down, the Ghoul sliding on the dusty ground as it landed some yards from me.
It wasn’t that I planned on shooting at a Ghoul tonight. When I heard the distant lowing from the herd, I thought another Bobcat had come hunting on my land. So I’d grabbed the shotgun and a handful of shells, heading out the farmhouse door at my best speed.
My herd was already small enough and I wasn’t willing to let any of the local wildlife steal it from me. Lead shot and ball was enough to drive the usual suspects away, but tonight I had hit the unlucky jackpot.
Ghouls were mighty uncommon, especially so far out in the wilderness of Arizona. They were a kind of Undead according to the wisdom of Grandfather, a tortured soul that had been summoned back from their grave. They craved the flesh of the living to sate the yawning hunger that filled them, a mindless tornado of flesh-tearing destruction.
And the bastards were basically bullet-proof.
It came at me again, only my excellent night-vision and a lucky dodge able to keep me clear of its rending jaws. They snapped and gnashed within inches of my legs, spitting second-hand blood over the worn denim. In desperation I jammed the barrels of the shotgun against its head and pulled the trigger, the boom and flash of fire stunning me as much as the beast.
The thing screamed in anger, clutching a human-like arm across its pellet-ravaged face. Long, gleaming teeth bared themselves at me, promising a death both painful and prolonged. It would take its time in eating my blood and bones, the dark eyes told me that without doubt.
I had time to regain my balance, dropping the empty gun on the prairie in a small puff of dust. Overhead the sky was clear, a brilliant moon illuminating the final moments of my precious cattle and maybe me.
“Grandfather, I may need your help this time” I breathed out into the night. He didn’t answer, he rarely did these days, but I felt him give me what I needed. The knife was at my right hip, where it was always kept, drawing smoothly from the leather sheath into my calloused hand. Bright polished steel glinted in the moonlight, making the Ghoul pause as it stalked towards me.
Blade Charm is the first incantation I ever learned from Grandfather. It had fancier names among the better quality Charm Smiths, like Rending of Flesh or Splitting Razor, but in our family we like to keep things simple. We call a shovel a shovel and that is all there is to it.
Power pulsed through my hand, filling the inscription along the knife with energy from beyond the Boundary. The blade shimmered in my eyes, the charm giving me a chance to wound the beast. All I had to do was get the knife into the Ghoul and hope I killed it before it tore me apart.
Some hint of smarts flickered in those pitch black eyes, the beast recognising I had cast a charm. It sniffed the air, a thick black tongue sliding out to test the scent I was giving off. Where before I had smelled of human, easy prey for the beast, now it caught the hint of something else.
“You’re a clever one, aren’t you?” I whispered and ran at the Ghoul. It skittered to the side like an angry scorpion, arms and legs kicking up the prairie dust as it evaded my first strike. It didn’t like what it sensed and I reckoned it was going to run.
I couldn’t allow that, not tonight. It had to be killed here and now, before it loped away to whatever lair it had sprung from. My boots kicked off from the dirt and I dove onto the beast, my arms thrown wide to grapple it.
The Ghoul felt like a sack of rotten meat when I landed on it, all jelly and putrescence skinned over with black sausage casing. It struggled and twisted beneath me, forcing me upwards with its incredible strength. My arm plunged the knife into its side, three times in rapid procession before I was hurled five yards across the ground. I landed heavily, head cushioned by the still warm belly of my dead cow.
An unholy scream erupted from its gaping mouth, gazing at me with a hatred no mortal being had ever felt. Thick, glistening sludge poured from the knife wounds, staining the dry earth with ebony coloured stench. It had taken the bait, unwilling to let me go now that I had caused it harm.
“Come and get me, Corpse” I taunted the creature. “Come and have a taste of what lies under my skin”
I was flat on my back, my head propped against the leaking stomach of a prize Longhorn. If it was going to flee, this was its chance. All I hoped was that the pain I had given it would make it want to hurt me in kind. The Ghoul jumped and I gave a grin as it flew towards me.
“Wrong choice” I snarled as it crashed into me. The knife was suddenly braced against my chest, both hands holding it blade upwards. It hit me hard, cracking one of my ribs as the knife hilt slammed down with the impact. Hot warmth poured over me as the Ghoul howled in anguish, the charmed blade punched clean though where the heart would have been.
It jerked itself away from me, tearing the knife from my grip as it shuddered and mewled, the clawed hands scrabbling at the deeply embedded blade. The thrashing and whimpering continued for some time, the black sludge finally ceasing to flow from the ravaged body.
At last it fell still, clawed hands lifted despairingly towards the distant stars as if begging those cold glimmering lights for salvation. I had gotten to my feet at some time without remembering the moment, watching as the creature grew quiet. There was no response when I kicked the silent corpse, so I took a double-handed grip on my knife and wrenched it clear.
“Why was it here, Grandfather?” I asked him. He didn’t reply, choosing not to speak to me in this moment. It didn’t matter about the why for now since its presence spoke of an even greater question.
“Who summoned it?”
