Sepulchral Earth - The Temple of the Dead  

           

Under the rumbling gray sky, Harlan Cole clutched his swollen ribs, his face a patchwork of graven lines. He circled right as the walker came at him. Short huffs of breath spewed from cracked lips. He looked into the corpse's blackened sockets to see pools of insect larvae churning in their depths. Harlan fought the urge to gag as a long brown roach skittered from the corpse’s eye and ran across its cheek. It disappeared when it wormed its way inside the walker’s jaundiced ear.

Distracted by the sight, shivers rippled his flesh. He barely realized the corpse had swung its cadaverous arm. He slipped just out of reach, his broken ribs setting fire to his side despite the tight wrap. He leaned in and thrust his obsidian sword under the walker's chin with a trembling hand, burying the point deep inside its rotten skull.

The corpse spasmed once and went rigid. Its possessor shrieked in ethereal rage as it was forced from the dead flesh and banished into the void. The screams dying away in Harlan’s head, the walker crumpled, pulling the sword from Harlan’s hand without resistance.

Every muscle in his body gave way in concert and Harlan collapsed onto the wet sand beside the corpse. His heart thundered in his chest, each beat a shotgun blast. Through blurry eyes, he surveyed the other walkers that happened upon his perch. They lay there stiff and unmoving, dead once again, their spirit engines driven out.

As he gasped to draw air, the bitter taste of decay settled thick in his throat. His stomach roiled.He crawled downwind. a raw groan slipping loose as he lay down in the gentle rain. The acrid stench eased by degrees.

As he struggled to catch his breath, a quiet whisper nagged at his ear. He cast his reddened eyes to the side and grumbled. “Thanks, Mother. I’ll get right on it.”

The Professor shimmered into view. The blackened shadows of his makeshift face was drawn in a semblance of frustration.

Harlan sat up, his teeth clenched. “You don’t think I know that? I’m on my way to the hospital right now. Oh, wait…”

The Professor drifted closer, shimmering hands on ghostly hips.

A subtle smiled crept over Harlan’s lips. “No, sarcasm doesn’t help, but it makes me feel better.” His heart settling into an easy trot, Harlan got to his feet. He ignored the sharp spikes that pierced his knees and glanced at the darkening face of the spirit. “Don’t worry. I’ll do what I have to, even if it kills me.”