Page 94 of The Last Necromancer
"He is almost gone," Frankenstein shouted, "but you must help him on his way. Press down on his throat. It'll be over in a moment. Hurry! The first is rising."
One of the creatures got to its feet. Where before it had rampaged around the room, and used up all its energy before reaching the tables, this time it focused on the tables first. And they were closer. We were closer. We couldn't control it, or the other two that had opened their dead eyes and turned toward us.
The only way to control them was by investing souls into them. But that would condemn Seth and Gus to death.
"Charlotte!" Frankenstein screamed. His smile had slipped and his face was now distorted with uncertainty and fear. "Do it, or we will be torn apart!" His gaze flicked to the monster, now advancing with lumbering, loping steps toward me.
Frankenstein pressed the blade of his dagger to Seth's throat.
CHAPTER 15
"No!" I cried. "Don't kill him!"
I dodged behind the table, away from the monster, and peeked out from behind the table legs. The creature had turned toward Frankenstein. Its blank eyes focused on its maker.
Frankenstein fell back, the blade still in his hand. I couldn't see if he'd used it on Seth, but I saw no spirit rise from the body. He must be alive.
I fell to my knees, partly from relief, but mostly because I'd spotted the medical bag. I rummaged through it until my fingers connected with something long and sharp. I pulled out a blade.
"Charlotte! Charlotte, you must do it now!"
He stumbled away from the table and his creature. I slipped under the table and came up on the other side. The sharp medical knife cut through the leather bonds easily, but Seth was still unconscious. I would never get him and Gus out while they slept.
Frankenstein's bellows drowned out the hum of the generator. He alternated between ordering me and begging me, as the monster backed him into a corner. I raced to Gus and cut through the straps trapping him too, and then I hoped for a miracle.
My movement caught the creature's attention. It lunged and fingers circled my arm so tightly it almost cut off the blood flow. I winced and tried to pull away, but the creature was too strong. The second monster loomed at my side too. The stench of rotting flesh and foul breath swamped me, but it wasn't its stink that brought vomit to my mouth, or the blistered, red scars. It was the pale eyes, devoid of life.
I tried again to wrench away, but it was no use. He was unnaturally strong. His other hand circled my throat, over the cut inflicted by Holloway, and began to squeeze. It felt like my windpipe was being crushed. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak. Even if the unknown third man died, I wouldn't be able to command the spirit, because not a sound would escape my mouth.
Tears slipped down my cheeks. The cut stung, but it was nothing compared to the pressure on my throat. I closed my eyes, so that I didn't have to look into the creature's anymore, as I felt my life force slip away from me.
A soft thud had me open them again. I barely registered the black figure amid the shadows before it leaped onto the monster and dragged it off me. Everything was a blur and I hardly knew what happened until it was all over. The creature lay on the floor, its throat cut so deeply that the head was almost severed from the neck. Blood poured out, slicking the shadowy man's boots.
The figure approached. It was Fitzroy. "Are you all right?" he asked.
I nodded, even though my throat burned and my chest ached. I gasped in air, the effort bringing a fresh wave of panic. I couldn't breathe. My throat was too tight. No matter how hard I tried, my lungs didn't fill.
Fitzroy removed his bloodied gloves and dropped them on the floor. He clasped my face, stroking his thumbs along my jawline. "It's all right," he said in that soothing, commanding voice of his. "Look at me."
I stared into the black pits of his eyes and he stared back at me, as if there was nothing and no one else in the room but us. It was a dizzying thrill to have his full attention, to feel like I mattered, and I didn't want it to end. I slipped into the deep pools of his eyes and could have stayed there forever.
"Concentrate on my hands," he murmured.
Those hands with the long, strong fingers that could confidently wield a knife to slice through a man's throat then be so gentle and comforting a moment later. His caress traced the ridge of my cheeks up to the corners of my eyes. He dabbed away a tear with the pad of his thumb then tucked my hair behind my ear.
I drew in a steady, deep breath that filled my chest. It hurt my throat, but I didn't care. I could breathe.
Frankenstein's grunts drew Fitzroy away from me. He let me go but did not try to help as one of the creatures picked up his maker. It slammed Frankenstein against the wall, again and again, as if the doctor were a tool to be used to break through the bricks.
"Help me," Frankenstein whimpered after the third hit. He sounded weak, groggy. After the fourth slam, he groaned in pain. "Please, kill it! For God's sake!"
But Fitzroy didn't move. He turned his attention to the third creature. That one picked up a lifeless Gus in his arms and went to throw him.
Fitzroy attacked. He leapt at the creature, a knife in his hand. I hadn't seen him retrieve it. He went to stab the creature, but it swung Gus like a shield and Fitzroy had to duck or be swiped.
"Get outside!" he shouted at me. "Go, Charlie!"
I edged to the door, but didn't leave. The two remaining creatures were now both targeting Fitzroy. Frankenstein, the lesser threat, lay forgotten on the floor, spluttering and coughing. He got to his hands and knees then to his feet. With a glance at me that I couldn't decipher, he stumbled toward the dying man on the table, and calmly plunged the knife into his throat to the hilt.
