by George Fry
If I had that sword I’d use it to save people, not bring them more misery! What the fuck are you even doing!?”
Drifter drew his sword, resting it on his shoulder. Dale braced himself, instinctively revealing his arm blade, in self-defence.
“I was wondering when you were going to show that off.” Drifter commented.
“You knew already?”
“I can sense the presence of demons, that includes your knife.”
“So… are you going to fight me, now that I’m part demon?”
“You’re not a demon, stupid, you just have a demonic knife in your arm.”
“Okay… but, what if I want to fight you?”
Drifter’s brow lowered slightly, in baffled intrigue. “Why...?”
“Because… you’re an arsehole!”
“Your deduction skills are on point.”
“I’ve deduced that you're way too dangerous to be wielding that kind of power so carelessly.”
“Careless?”
Drifter almost seemed offended by Dale’s claim. He distanced himself, pointing his sword, with Dale bracing for impact, assuming the battle had started. From what he saw at the top of the tower, Dale guessed Drifter would attack from a distance, before fighting him head on.
Dale was ready and focused. The demon weapon had heightened his senses, he felt light footed, like he could avoid anything.
His senses were sharp enough to react to any minute movements and his blade was sharp enough to slice through steel. The whole world slowed to a crawl, no matter what Drifter did, Dale could react to it.
Despite his hyper focused state, Drifter still managed to pull off a maneuver so unpredictable Dale could never have predicted it. Drifter tossed his sword in the grass, between the two of them and just left it there.
“What are you doing?” Dale questioned.
“If you think you can wield that sword better than me, then take it.” He answered casually.
“You must think I’m a right dickhead to fall for that. The second I touch that thing I’m probably going to be set on fire, or explode, or both.”
“Nope, it’s all yours.”
Utterly perplexed by Drifter’s actions, Dale slowly crept over to the sword, gently lifting it from the ground, praying it didn’t obliterate his arm on contact.
As he lifted it up, he felt a rush of energy through his body. The arm blade already made him feel strong, but this sword contained a power that was in its own tier.
The Legendary Demon Sword's power felt intense, like he could split the world in two with a single swipe. It was no wonder why Drifter always looked so calm and confident whenever he fought, anyone would if they had, what felt like, the power of a god at their fingertips.
“There’s just one catch.” Drifter explained, snapping Dale out of his trance. “If you want to keep it, you’ve got to kill me, first.”
“Kill you? I don’t know, that seems a bit extreme… I just wanted to rough you up a bit.”
“Don’t be such a pussy. Without that sword I’m dead anyway. Come on, put me out of my misery.”
None of this felt right. Drifter was most definitely a miserable bastard, but he never came off as someone seeking death. He certainly didn’t look depressed, in fact, he had a sly grin.
This was obviously bait, it had to be, but how? Without the sword Drifter had forfeited all means of defending himself, at least that’s what Dale assumed.
Dale took up the sword, its energy surging through him, as he emitted a white aura. If this was Drifter’s wish, then Dale would grant it. With the enhanced speed and power from both the sword and his arm blade, Dale shredded through blades of grass, as he closed the gap between them in a split second, leaping into the air.
He swung the sword down with enough force to cleave a mountain in two, but he was interrupted by a sudden, mighty clash. It felt as if the whole world shook from the impact of that single swing, like he crashed into an impenetrable wall. That’s when he noticed, the white aura glowing in front of him.
Even without the sword in his possession, Drifter’s power hadn’t dropped at all. With just one hand, he stopped Dale’s assault dead in its tracks. He didn’t even budge. The force of Dale’s strike was completely neutralised, leaving him to pitifully drop back to the ground.
Drifter put up his other hand, his entire body radiating with energy, and without even touching Dale, unleashed a burst of strength from his fist that sent him flying, sliding on his back across the field, back where he started, the sword still firmly in Drifter’s grasp.
“Now do you understand?” Drifter clarified, as he headed over to Dale. “The sword doesn’t make you invincible, especially against someone who’s already been wielding it for years.”
“But, I came at you full force. How did you stop me without even trying?” Dale asked, pulling himself up.
“If I explain will you stop bitching at me?”
“No promises.”
“Jesus Christ… The sword slowly generates energy over time, at a constant rate. Like an engine, infinitely generating energy and gently transferring that energy into the body of the wielder. The boost is pretty noticeable the first time, but once you’re over that initial high, its true strength starts to reveal itself.
The sword is always, gradually making you stronger over time, but the increase in strength is so passive that you won’t even notice it.
Because of that, your body never feels overwhelmed or damaged by the influx of energy. It just becomes natural to you. As long as you don’t freak out and try to force a shit ton of energy out of the sword all at once, it’s easily manageable.
It’s like having a limitless battery that you can extract energy from whenever you want, but you have to extract it carefully. You only take what you need, or what your body can handle. Get reckless, or god forbid, lose control and shit goes south real fucking quick.”
“So, it’s like an infinite, demonic battery charger?”
“Sure...”
“Okay but, what the hell does CORE mean?”
“What?”
“On the sword’s handle, it says CORE.”
Drifter examined the hilt of the sword, four letters were engraved along the cross-guard that clearly read CORE. In plain english.
“There’s also that weird dent up the middle of the blade.” Dale continued. “It kinda bothers me that it’s only on one side. It’s so asymmetrical. Who designs shit like that?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t make the fucking thing.”
As expected, Drifter was either clueless, or didn’t seem to care for the details.
“I apologise for interrupting your sparring session boys, but may I have a word?”
Drifter and Dale were so caught up in their conversation, they hadn’t noticed the fashionable young lady, park her striking red sports car on the side of the road and waltz right up to them.
“Who are you?” Drifter bluntly asked.
“Please, forgive my sudden intrusion. My name is Reine Lajioe. Daughter of the famous musician, Bryan Lajioe, already following in his footsteps as the next big hit. You may have heard of me?”
“No.”
“O-oh… well, that’s not really important, anyway.”
Drifter and Dale were understandably confused. From nowhere, an upper class lady, sporting fashionable sunglasses, treated them like they were her fellow associates, rather than two random, homeless bozos she just met on the side of the road.
“Are you… driving around in the middle of the night?” Dale questioned.
“Yes. You take issue with that?”
“Are you nuts? Nobody goes out at night. Did you forget about the demons that could be lurking out there?”
“As if I’d let some nasty monsters get in the way of a cool, evening drive.”
“I think it’s a little later than evening.”
“Yes, well… that’s what I came to discuss with you.”
“Whuh...?”
“
I just so happened to catch a glimpse of you two fighting and I just knew you’d be perfect for the job.”
“Job?” Drifter recoiled at the idea.
“You see… I’m having a stalker problem… it’s been keeping me up at night, so I was wondering if you two could possibly act as my bodyguards for a short while? Just until we catch them.”
“I fight demons, not sexual predators.”
“But, it is a demon! Please, I know he’s still out there, watching me! I asked the police, but as soon as I mention the word demon they turned me away! I need help! Look, I even have proof!”
The flustered woman presented a box of chocolates as her decisive evidence.
Drifter took one of the chocolates and promptly ate it.
“Ew… almonds. This guy really is sick in the head.”
“He left them on my doorstep, like some creepy weirdo.”
“What a fucking tragedy.” He mused, taking the chocolates off her hands.
“I’m telling you, it’s a demon. I saw it with my own eyes. He’s always lurking around my house with his… pointiness.”
“Sure, we’ll do it.” Dale answered.
Drifter spat out his chocolate. “You fucking what!?”
“What? Now we can earn our money, instead of stealing it.”
“I’ve got better things to do than play bodyguard.”
“Like what?”
“Finding Locke.”
“Okay, where is he then?”
Drifter blanked for a second.
“Listen, cunt...”
He was about to reprimand Dale, for being a smarmy prick, until something grabbed his arm.
“No, stop.” Reine begged, having lifted her sunglasses, revealing her saddened, deep blue eyes.
“Don’t be mad at him, I’m the one who asked. I can give you a place to stay, for as long as you need. I’m not short on cash, so you won’t be a burden, I swear.”
As he looked into the eyes of the poor, distressed woman, Drifter calmed himself with a deep breath.
“Fine... “
His face turned slightly red.
“You’re lucky I have a soft spot for generous, rich girls…”
“You’ll help? Oh, I feel so much more relaxed already...”
Switching from damsel to diva with the flick of her sunglasses, Reine wasted no time getting down to business.
“Now then, please follow me to my car, my home is just a short drive away.”
With that settled, the three hopped in the car, with Dale sitting up smart and straight and Drifter slouching in the back, picking away at his chocolates.
“Can I have one?” Dales asked, kindly.
“No.”
For the rest of the journey, Drifter didn’t speak a single word. He seemed much more interested in staring up at the sky in the open top convertible. They soon arrived at Reine’s home in the heart of Oxford, Summertown. Upon reaching the rich suburb, Reine was eager to show off her lovely abode to her new guests.
“Ta-da! Welcome to my palace!”
They entered the massive living room, adorned with bookshelves, shining polished furniture and a piano by the corner surrounded with other string instruments and stacks of CD’s. As well as a large TV with sofa and chairs covered in pillows.
“This room is practically the size of the entire homeless shelter.” Dale mocked.
“Father did like to spoil me.” Reine obliviously replied.“ "Please, come in. Make yourselves at home. Ooh, I know, how about I play you some music? A lovely legato, perhaps?”
“No thanks.” Drifter replied, immediately dropping onto the sofa, lying down comfortably.
“Oh… well, maybe we could do something else?”
Drifter had already taken off his scabbard and thrown his coat over himself like a blanket.
"Nope. Sleeping. Had a long day.”
“I suppose it is rather late…”
Reine was hoping to have a little fun with her guests, since she so rarely had any, but was left disappointed by Drifter's disinterest. However, she quickly remembered her other guest, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.
“Well, would you like to do something?”
“What?” Dale was taken aback by her sudden request. “Well… I do have a question.”
“A question? About my moi?”
“Yeah. Why are you so trusting towards us? I mean, we’re just a couple of smelly, homeless guys. Why would you invite us into your home? We could be crazy serial killers for all you know.”
“Oh, please. Just because I wear sunglasses, doesn’t mean I’m blind. I can tell you two aren’t the crazy types, especially you… um… what was your name?”
“Dale, and that lump is Drifter.”
“Drifter...? Ooh, mysterious… But, you Dale, you have this adorable innocence about you. Like an eager little puppy, you just jumped at the chance to help me. Thank you, I really appreciate it.”
“O-oh, it was nothing.” He blushed.
“Now then, I suppose we should all get some rest.”
Dale wandered over to the piano, curious about the CD stack.
“What are all these?”
“Oh, just unpublished works.”
“They’re dusty.”
“Yes... I suppose they are. Anyway, we can discuss things further tomorrow, until then, there’s a blanket just under the stairs if you need it. With you two here, I can finally rest easy for once.”
With the lights turned off, Dale curled up on the large chair by the TV as he pondered the events that somehow lead him to this moment. As soon as he stepped into her house, he thought Reine was some stuck up snob, but she was surprisingly generous, almost to the point of naivete.
“Hey, Drifter. What just happened?”
“Go to fucking sleep.”
There wasn’t a peep from anyone until the next morning, a rare moment of peace for Drifter who was used to sleeping with one eye open in fear of being jumped at his most vulnerable. However, while the outside world was safe, for the moment, the demons locked away in his subconscious were eager to play.
A red sky, dark clouds, a burning city and the whole world shrouded by smoke rising from torched buildings. Serpents rampaged through the streets, slaughtering innocents, purely for the thrill of the kill and in the center of all the death and chaos stood Drifter, once again helpless to stop any of it. Only capable of watching, as all hell broke loose, with the sound of cackling laughter echoing throughout the night sky.
“Don’t be afraid!” A voice cried.
It was the same every time.
Drifter awoke the next morning, staring at the ceiling of the living room in pure terror, for a few seconds, until his brain slowly realised he was back in the real world.
“Dammit…. I hate that dream…”
He sat up and hobbled around the room, still half-asleep. Glancing out the window, he spotted a shady figure standing at the gate of the garden. He threw the door open immediately.
“Nahas!” He called, but the figure was already gone.
“Drifter… what are you yelling at…?” Reine asked, entering the room, in her fluffy nightgown.
“Nothing… sorry...”
“Since when the hell do you ever apologise?” Dale teased, only to be greeted with a pillow to the face.
Before closing the door, Drifter noticed something sitting on the welcome mat.
“Roses? What?”
He mindlessly threw them away in the bushes.
Reine prepared a hearty breakfast for the group with bacon and eggs. Dale was ecstatic to eat a proper meal for once and dug in. Drifter however, was uninterested and simply settled with fruit and water.
He didn’t even join them at the table, preferring to lean against the wall, staring out the window until he was finished. To Dale, it always seemed like Drifter was off in his own little world, too preoccupied by his own thoughts to bother interacting with the people around him.
“You could at least try to s
ocialise.” Dale called.
“No thanks.”
“You know, without that big coat, you actually look more normal. Well, minus the crazy long hair. I mean, that shit goes all the way down to your knees.”
Drifter ignored Dale’s comments, turning to Reine instead.
“Hey, can I use your shower?”
“Oh. Of course, it’s just upstairs.” Reine answered, shocked by his politeness.
“Thank God, I can’t remember the last time I had a good shower.”
“But, don’t take too long, we have to get ready for the garden party this afternoon.”
“You want us to escort you to a garden party?”
“Well, I’m not going by myself. Not with that creepy stalker out there.”
“Whatever…”
Drifter headed upstairs, leaving Dale to handle the details.
“What’s this party for?”
“Oh, it’s just a gathering at Oxford University.”
“Oxford? You mean that place rich people go to?”
“Yes… a place for rich people… to talk about... rich people things…”
Reine’s enthusiasm quickly died at the mere mention of the guests.
“What do rich people talk about?”
“I don’t know…”
Not wanting to pry any further, Dale got up, only to catch a glimpse of a blur rushing passed the kitchen window, suddenly followed by a loud crash.
“What the fuck was that!?” Dale yelled.
The ceiling above rumbled with loud thumping.
“Something’s in my bedroom!” Reine cried.
“I’ll go check.”
Dale rushed upstairs, into the bedroom, but by the time he got there, it was already empty. Reine soon joined him, as he checked over the area.
“The fuck was that all about?” He questioned.
“It must be that creepy stalker, he's getting braver.”
“Okay, but why did he break into your room?”
“Whatever the reason, I’m sure it’s nothing good, I- AAGH!”
“What!?”
“My makeup’s gone!”