by George Fry
“Following your movements was pretty tough, luckily it seems you were more concerned with regenerating your body than actually attacking me. If you had just kept moving, you could have got the jump on me, but I guess you were too dumb to think that far ahead.” Drifter explained.
The beast simply stood in silence, paralysed by the sword in its spine.
“I don’t know what the fuck kind of monster you are, but you’re dangerous, even by demon standards. You need to die.”
The sword imbedded in its back released a surge of power, setting the beast ablaze from the inside. As it burned, the beast’s body melted, falling to pieces, but never dropping eye contact from Drifter, despite not having any eyes. Soon, it was nothing more than a puddle of black sludge, that was quickly absorbed into the earth and disappeared.
Drifter wasn’t exactly sure the creature was dead, but as its curse began to lift and the light of the moon illuminated the street, the battle was obviously over.
Dale stumbled out of the house as Drifter continued gazing at the ground, still puzzled by what he just fought.
“Holy shit, dude… is it over?” Dale asked, still recovering from the mist’s assault on his body.
“Yeah.”
Drifter looked over at Catherine, stumbling over herself, using the rubble of the wall she crashed into as a crutch to slowly lift herself up.
She faced the others, still dazed from her own injuries.
“Is the demon… dead?”
“Nope.” Drifter answered, pointing his sword at Catherine.
“There’s still one left.”
“W-what are you talking about?”
“Your bandages are slipping.”
Catherine's hat was buried in the rubble and her bandages unwound, revealing her small, but very noticeable devil horns protruding from her head. Her jeans fell slightly, releasing her long, thin, black horned tail, disguised as a belt. She was the most classic depiction of a demon you could get.
“Oh man…” Dale had a strange feeling of dread and disappointment.
Catherine was completely exposed, left in a state of shock.
“Please don’t look…”
“So, was it all a lie?” Drifter asked. ”An elaborate ambush? How much rehearsal time did you need to get your character down? Please let me know for future reference.”
Catherine said nothing, she felt naked and scared, she never wanted anyone to see the truth.
“What are you going to do to her?” Dale asked.
“Don’t know. How the fuck does a demon end up living with human grandparents? Unless that didn’t happen at all, and this was all just a ruse.”
As Drifter approached her, Catherine frantically looked for a way to defend herself and took a risk with a severed limb from the garden she crashed through.
“Stop! Don’t make me use this!”
“Where did you-?”
The limb melted, bone and all, merging with Catherine’s own skin, to create a large, deadly claw, ready to rip apart anything that dared approach her.
“I-I won’t hesitate to use this, I swear!”
She was clearly anxious, lacking any sort of confidence in her abilities. Drifter was more concerned over where she even found the severed limb in the first place. That’s when it hit him, like a bad smell. A horrible smell. A disgusting, wretched, rotting smell.
“Oh my god...” Dale exclaimed, horrified, as he and Drifter took a good, hard look at their surroundings.
Corpses littered the streets. They were mutilated, vandalised by some sick force of nature. Ripped apart like sacks of meat, with blood, viscera, bones and other parts left lying on the ground like trash.
The sheer carnage gave Drifter flashbacks to his nightmares. The sight of such blatant disregard for human life was soul shattering.
It didn’t even matter whether Drifter swore to protect people or not. That monster’s mere presence was enough to rob the lives of hundreds before the fight had even begun. The mist had not only hidden the slaughter from their eyes, but also the stench of death from the countless carcasses.
“What the fuck is this...” Drifter muttered, completely overwhelmed.
“I didn’t kill them!” Catherine answered.
“You used that corpse as a weapon? Was that your plan!? It’s not enough to kill them, you have to defile their bodies, too!? This is disgusting!!”
“I can explain!”
“Shut up!”
Drifter took a moment to compose himself.
“I’m tired of you monsters making excuses! You treat human lives like they’re garbage to be thrown away, but then beg like cowards when it’s your own life on the line! You’re pathetic!!”
Suddenly, a bright light appeared before Drifter, tearing through reality and shielding Catherine.
The light dimmed, revealing a bizarre figure. A being wrapped entirely in chains and demonic padlocks, with not a shred of their body visible underneath all the darkness and metal, save for a single piercing blue eye, peering through an opening on their left side.
The being scoffed at Drifter with ire.
“You’re not Alexander.”
“No, but my defenses are impregnable.” Drifter instinctively retorted. “What the fuck are you?”
“I see… so, this is where CORE ended up?”
“For god’s sake, just answer the fucking question.”
“I am Locke.”
“Fitting.”
“The irony is not lost on me.”
“I hear you’re after my sword, Locke.”
“You’ve heard of me?”
“The Tower of Heylel. They name dropped you.”
“Those fools. I tell them the Demon Sword is in the human world and they all rushed to find it. Why must my own people continue to throw their own lives away, just to satiate their own lust for power?”
“What makes you any different?”
“I do not fight to satisfy my own ego, but for a greater purpose.”
“And, that purpose is…?”
“None of your concern.”
“Oh, fuck off!”
Drifter fired a blast from his sword, but the attack didn’t even singe Locke’s chains.
“I’m afraid this portable prison is impenetrable.”
“Why are you showing up now?”
Locke looked over at Catherine.
“I’m sorry I was late.”
“Did you find him?” She asked, still shaken.
“I have a lead, but I need to investigate further. If Zaphon is still under his control, then we may have a problem.”
“Sorry I can’t help.”
“After what’s happened here, I can’t leave you in the human world any longer. I’m afraid you’ll be stuck with me for awhile.”
“Thanks for looking out for me...”
“Drifter!” Locked exclaimed. “Hang on to that sword, I’ll need it soon.”
“Running away?”
“No. Just biding my time. I’ve waited five years, what’s a few more days?”
A blinding light suddenly flashed and in seconds Locke and Catherine disappeared.
Refusing to let them escape, Drifter slashed his sword at the air, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing came of it.
“The demon portal’s gone already? This bastard's no slouch.”
“What the fuck just happened?” Dale asked, still processing everything.
“Shit happened.”
“Man, you sound pretty pissed off.”
“I just… a part of me wanted to trust her, you know?”
Chapter 7: True Warrior
✽✽✽
Drifter and Dale spent the night in Catherine’s abandoned home. It felt strange sleeping in the empty house of the recently deceased, but Drifter was willing to take advantage of whatever luxuries he could get. It wasn't as if anyone was going to be using them any time soon.
After snooping around, he wandered into, what he assumed was, Catherine’s room. It l
ooked rather plain overall, but he did take an interest in her collection of bizarre comic books, featuring burly men battling alongside ghostly apparitions with the most extravagant poses he had ever seen.
“That’s weird.” Drifter thought, flicking through the illustrations.
“I don’t remember this, but I recognise it, like I’m relearning everything as I read…”
He put the book back on its shelf.
“Good grief, what a nerd…”
After finishing whatever food they could scavenge together from the kitchen, the boys were ready to leave, but as they passed through the living room, Drifter paused at the cabinet of nicknacks.
He took one last look at the photo of Catherine with her supposed grandparents. Everytime he looked at it, he got a nagging feeling, something about it bugged him. Did the people in the photograph really exist and if not, then why go to all the effort?
Carefully removing the photo from its frame, he folded it into his wallet, figuring it may be useful if he ever encountered Catherine again.
Dale pulled back the front window curtain and sighed.
“Oh, great… they’re everywhere…”
Drifter took a look for himself. The street was packed with police officers, paramedics, cop cars and ambulances. They already heard them the moment they woke up, but they had no idea there would be this many.
“Shit... “ Drifter moaned. “Let's just leave and try to ignore them.”
The instant they stepped outside, all eyes were drawn to them. Nobody present expected to find any survivors to the carnage they discovered. A certain ginger haired, copper was especially interested, immediately confronting the boys.
“What the bloody hell are you two doing here!?” He demanded.
“Who are you?” Drifter bluntly replied.
“What!? We met yesterday, you daft bastard! I’m Officer Richard Watson!”
“Oh… well, see ya.”
As Drifter attempted to leave, Richard put his hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stay.
“Hold on! You didn’t answer my question! Did you do all this!?”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“Why are you guys here?” Dale asked.
Richard dropped his grip.
“Clean up.” He lamented. “After seeing the state of the neighbourhood, we were ordered to dispose of everything, before letting the few evacuees return to their homes. We were so traumatised by what we found, no one had the stomach to perform a proper investigation. We just wanted to remove the corpses… but, there’s so many.”
“What’s there to investigate?” Drifter questioned. “You already know what caused this, why are you wasting your time?”
“But, we need to know! Why did all this happen!? An entire squad! An entire town! Murdered! For what!? And how do we stop it!?”
“Give me a call when you find the answer.”
“Hold on a minute. There was an incident at a shopping centre yesterday. You two wouldn’t happen to-”
In the brief moment Officer Richard looked away, Drifter and Dale had already left.
“Oh, bollocks, they’re gone…”
“That guy’s persistent.” Dale surmised.
“A persistent pain in the arse.” Drifter added.
They continued down the street, hoping that the corpses of the victims would gradually peter out, but the carcasses were more widespread than they initially thought. From bloodied shop doors to a car, crashed through a building, disjointed body parts lay everywhere.
Dale had to pause for a moment, leaning on wall.
“You dying again?” Drifter asked.
“What…? Worried…?”
“You look pale.”
“I’m fine… probably something I ate…”
They stopped momentarily, as the stench of death slowly crept into Drifter’s nose. He had grown accustomed to fighting off such foul odours, but the sheer scale of the attack only intensified the sickening smell. The sight of the miscellaneous bodies littering the street, wasn’t helping.
“You don’t have to keep doing this.” Drifter mentioned.
“What…?”
“You’ve proven your point. You're perfectly capable of defending people from demons by yourself. As long as you’re not a fucking retard about it, you’ll improve. This town is already lost, so go be a hero somewhere else. I’ve got my own shit to do.”
“No way!” Dale refuted. “I need to know! Who was that Locke guy!? Who’s Catherine!? What were they talking about!? What are they planning!? A real hero wouldn’t just ignore them! They’d keep moving and find the truth, so a tragedy like this never happens again!”
Drifter was impressed by the kid’s resolve.
“Then quit whining about your tummy ache and let’s get going!”
Unfortunately, as they continued down the road, the sickening feeling only worsened upon coming across a ghastly scene.
Short, boney, feral, gremlin like demons were feasting on a defiled corpse, in the middle of the road, like vultures. It was hard to tell what parts they were picking at for sustenance, nor did Drifter care to find out.
He drew his sword and with one mighty, horizontal slash, sliced the air, sending a razor sharp wave towards the monsters, slicing them in half from the waste, and severing limbs. Car roofs slid off and street lights crashed to the ground as a result of his massive attack.
“Uh… you missed one.” Dale pointed to the remaining demon, who meekly rose from behind his comrade’s torsos, attempting to flee.
“Oh, Jesus…” Drifter groaned. “Dale, you go after it.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re the hero.”
“Fine…”
Dale drew his arm blade and dashed ahead, quickly overtaking the fleeing demon and blocking it from running any further.
“Hold it, you little shit!”
“Master won’t be pleased with this.” The demon threatened.
“Master?” Dale drew closer, scaring the quivering creature into spilling more info.
“Explain… and maybe I’ll let you live.”
“Master is going to help create a new world!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Heathens like you have no place in it!”
The demon swiped its fist across Dale’s face, with shards of glass from the broken street lights hidden between its fingers, slashing Dale’s cheek as he leaned out of the way, leaving three distinct cuts, bleeding on his face.
As the demon came around for a second swipe, it was interrupted by a blast that scorched its back. Drifter had fired a shot from his sword, burning off the skin and leaving the demon’s muscle exposed. The pain was so agonising, it left the monster paralysed.
Without giving the gremlin a chance to recover, Dale bisected it’s body with a short uppercut.
Just as he was about to declare victory, the monster’s body split in two, spraying blood all over the back of his priceless suit.
“Oh, God!” He cried. “I got gremlin juices everywhere!”
“Hey, stupid!” Drifter called. “Remember the whole 'not being a fucking retard’ shit I said earlier?”
“I was just trying to get some info out of him.” He sulked, trying to rub the blood off his face.
“Well, did you get anything?”
“Apparently, he has a master.”
“Master, huh?”
“Wanna go find him?”
“Sure. I could use a good punching bag right about now.”
The two eventually stumbled upon a church. Not the religious type, Drifter would, ordinarily, pay it no mind, but this particular building was surrounded by a strange aura.
A white barrier of spirits, stretching and contorting, wailing as they reached their ghostly palms out to any living being that drew close to them.
They were like moving textures, slithering across an invisible wall. A bird that had foolishly flown too close was snagged out of the air by the phantasms and swallow
ed into a space beyond the realm of the living.
“What the fuck is this?”
This was a sight Drifter had not experienced before.
“I’ve seen this.” Dale explained. “This wailing wall appeared in the restaurant when I was attacked by those oily dudes. It didn’t disappear until I killed the demon that summoned it first.”
"I see... usually I kill the bastard before they get a chance to try something like this. I don’t see a demon around, so they're probably inside the barrier, keeping us out.”
“So, how do we get through?”
“Brute force.”
“What!? No! Do you even know what’ll happen if those things touch you!?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Drifter reached his hand out to the wailing spirits. As he inched closer, the hands of the spirits excitedly clawed out to him, desperate to get a hold of more delicious lifeforce, but before they could make contact, Drifter’s aura appeared. The spirits suddenly backed off in fear, wanting nothing to do with the energy Drifter was exerting from his body.
As he pushed closer towards them, the spirits dispersed, creating a hole in the barrier for him to pass through. Dale dived through the gap before the spirits had a chance to grab him, as Drifter simply walked through with no issue.
“Really?” Dale scolded. “Those things scared the shit out of me and you just walk right through them like they’re nothing? That’s bullshit.”
“Of course it is.” Drifter pointed to the sword on his back. “Why do you think they’re always after this thing?”
After passing through the barrier, the boys entered the church, hoping to find the source of the wailing wall.
The inside was dimly lit, with only the light from the stained glass windows fending off the darkness. Rows of benches were filled with people, kneeling down and praying silently, all wearing the same black robes.
Drifter didn’t concern himself with the acolytes and quietly headed down the aisle. There was only one person he was interested in. The hooded figure standing behind the podium, raised above the rest of his followers via a stage.