Drifter- Aimless Wanderer

by George Fry

  The river of blood and the corpses mixed together creating a thick, moist meaty bag.

  “Oh, good lord... “ Amanda commented, in awe at the revolting sight. “...what is she doing?”

  “What?” Dale asked. “I can’t get up, what’s happening?”

  Her screaming suddenly ceased.

  “Humans… demons… they hate… hate… hate… hate… I hate them! My head… won’t stop throbbing… it won’t stop… why won’t it stop…? MAKE IT STOP!”

  As she ranted nonsensically the mold of corpses she created gathered into the sky above her, forming into a massive, dripping cyst. Once it was complete, Catherine quieted down, as tendrils dropped down from the levitating lump, attaching themselves to her limbs, pulling her inside the gruesome floating sack.

  The sack convulsed at a disturbing rate, as pained, wailing faces formed around the outside of its walls. Crying, hurting, begging for their misery to end. The loathsome, living fortress had become the amalgamation of all the regret and fear of the souls that forged it.

  Amanda couldn't begin to comprehend how they were supposed to stop such a monstrosity.

  “So... on a scale of one to ten, how fucked are we?” She asked Stolz.

  Suddenly one of the wailing faces, opened its gaping maw unnaturally wide and painfully fired a massive red laser that tore through the city, vaporising everything in its path, with bursts of flames following behind its trail.

  “About an eight, I’d say…” Stolz answered.

  The Garden of Eden. A vast, sprawling greenery, carpeted with grass, and plants, surrounded by hedges. In the center of it all was the Tree of Life, which towered above all, bringing shade from the warm light above. However, to Drifter’s disappointment that’s all it ever was, just a garden. A King’s personal paradise.

  On the other side of the demonic wasteland’s oasis, laid a staircase, spiralling around a massive rock pillar, leading toward a grand castle situated on a cliff.

  The castle was only the size of a small mansion, but its gothic architecture made it stand out from the rundown huts of the canyon below.

  Drifter, Pad and Locke, all climbed the staircase. Not a word was spoken as they scaled higher up the cliff face, until they reached the top. A wide, flat landscape greeted them, along with the bustling of dusty wind from having ascended so high, with nothing but a steel gate separating them from the castle entrance.

  From such heights they could see the entire network of canyons, where Pad’s people once lived, splitting off from the pillar, but without the blood of its community travelling through its veins, the heart of this world had stopped beating and was left decayed and rotten.

  Locke finally broke the tense silence.

  “Beyond these gates, lies Castle Zaphon. There, inside its dilapidated walls lies our final hope for all demonkind.”

  “Hold the fuck up.” Drifter insisted. “So, after all this bullshit, you’re telling me you want the sword, to enter some stupid castle in the middle of nowhere? That’s it?”

  “It has taken me a long time to return to this castle and find the perfect opportunity to bring the Demon Sword without interference from Nahas’ men.”

  “Is there something inside the castle you’re looking for?”

  “Indeed.”

  “And what does Catherine have to do with all this?”

  “Catherine…?”

  “How do you know her?”

  “I suppose I can explain.”

  “No bullshit, just tell it to me straight.”

  “It was around five years ago. After gathering the strength to finally conjure portals, I appeared in the Human World, searching for the sword you carry on your back, but I made a miscalculation.

  I was searching for a demonic power in the human world, but instead of finding the sword, I discovered an orphanage and in that orphanage, I found her.

  Catherine, the demon girl, somehow living among the humans.

  I put my search for the sword on hold, as this was a discovery I could not ignore. In the past, demons who appeared in the human world were revered as deities, to be feared or praised.

  Our relationship with humans was always complicated, but Catherine, she lived with humans as if she were one of them, completely unaware of what she truly was.

  I appeared to her one night. Understandably, she was terrified at first, but once I taught her about the Demon World, she quickly became invested. Her repressed feelings and odd appearance. Everything was beginning to make sense to her.

  Unbelievably, she had lived her whole life in that orphanage. As for who left her there and why? Those answers didn’t matter, what truly mattered to me was that a demon girl was somehow living peacefully with humans.

  Whether it was fate, or a mere accident, from that moment on, I stayed in touch with her. She was the future I was striving for. A world where demons could finally set aside the pointless bloodshed and egotism and live peacefully with each other and humans.

  For her sake and others like her, I will obtain CORE, break the chains that bind me and move toward resurrecting the true king of this land.”

  “But, in order to do that you’ll have to get past me, right?”

  “If you give up your sword now, there will be no need for fighting.”

  “I don't care how noble you think you are, I'm not trusting anyone with the power of this sword.”

  “You refuse?”

  “I’m not giving this sword up for nobody.”

  “How thoughtless, but I expect nothing less from the man who’s caused more damage with that weapon than anyone else.”

  “Come again?”

  “How many lives have been lost by your hands? Demons and humans alike? Do you seriously believe that sword is safe in your hands? Is that a decision you’re qualified to make? All I’ve seen from you is destruction, negligence and death.

  You’ve done just as much damage to human-demon relations than any of those monsters. You are the embodiment of humanity’s wrath. It’s time to pass the sword onto someone who can truly use it to save lives, before you destroy more of them.”

  “Think you’re fucking smart, huh? Think you can do a better job than me? That all your problems will be solved just because you have some big powerful sword?

  Having power doesn’t solve shit!

  Monsters will always find a way to destroy you, no matter how powerful you are! If they can’t kill you, they’ll kill everyone around you! Hold the whole world hostage if they have to! Think you can handle that? The burden of protecting everyone around you in a never ending battle against the monsters controlling the world?”

  “With CORE’s power, we can finally resurrect this dead wasteland and bring about a new age of prosperity for demons and humans! We can purge those monsters! Why can’t you see that!?”

  “Because it’s idyllic nonsense! Those monsters will still destroy you and the people you care about! It won’t be quick either. It’ll be a slow burn, eroding away your soul, until you wake up one day and realise you have nothing left to fight for.

  If you think you have the power to change the world, then prove it! Come at me! I’ll slap your shit so hard, you’ll be forced to wake up!”

  “Very well.”

  As Locke slowly approached, Drifter turned to Pad.

  “Take cover on the staircase, this will get rough.”

  She took his advice and left the two of them alone to sort out their differences.

  Drifter and Locke met in the center of the landscape, face-to-face, staring each other down. Drifter with his cold, black eyes and Locke with his single piercing blue eye.

  They waited in silence for someone to make the first move.

  Due to his impatience, Drifter threw the first punch, smashing into Locke’s chains with blinding speed, but it did nothing but rattle them violently while kicking up dust. Locke was unfazed.

  “Huh…” Drifter grunted. “Lot tougher than I thought.”

  Suddenly, Drifter felt a slight
tremor beneath him and leapt back as chains burst out of the ground, almost impaling him from below, but, he couldn’t rest yet. He continued hopping back as more chains shot out, one after another, driving him further from Locke.

  The chains soon stopped, as Drifter surmised he was out of Locke’s range, assuming this gave him the advantage. He pointed his finger and fired a miniscule spark packing its usual explosive power.

  In response, Locke thrusted one of his chains forward. It crashed through the spark, detonating it from a safe distance, and continued toward Drifter who dodged with a small slide to the left. He quickly realised, Locke’s range went much further than he thought.

  Before the chain retracted, Drifter caught it, tightly holding it in place. Locke tried to retrieve it, but Drifter’s grip was far too strong. He dug his boots into the ground to ensure he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “What game are you playing!?” Locke chastised. “Are you being irritating on purpose!?”

  “You okay, Locke?” Drifter grinned. “You look like you’re having some difficulties.”

  Frustrated, Locke fired another chain. Intended to bat Drifter away, he instead, caught it with his other hand.

  “You know, these chains remind me of something.”

  “This is not the time!”

  “My memory’s pretty muddy, but I just remembered. I really loved swings as a kid.”

  “What are you babbling about?”

  “Swings! The tire swings were my favourite. The way you spun around, slowly building up momentum, reaching higher speeds with each twist. They were fucking cool! You want a demonstration!?”

  Drifter’s aura flared up as he swung the chains aside, flinging Locke helplessly through the air. He swung the ball of metal around in circles, like an olympian hammer thrower, building up speed, but instead of tossing the demon away, he instead returned him to the ground by slamming the bundle of chains into the dirt with a satisfying crunch of iron and rock.

  “Alright, let’s see how we did...”

  He waltzed over to the collapsed pile of scrap, dusting off his hands, only to be greeted with an explosive burst of chains, firing in all directions. One chain even sliced through Drifter’s cheek, catching him off-guard.

  Locke pushed himself up with his chains. It was hard to tell if he took any damage with his body buried underneath all the metal, but Drifter could definitively assume, Locke wasn’t a fan of swings.

  “You okay?” Drifter asked. “I can see your eye twitching behind all those big iron bracelets.”

  Eight chains launched out of Locke’s back, all attempting to slam down on top of Drifter, but he simply slid in between all of them. They pounded at varying intervals, growing in speed, but none of it was enough to even graze Drifter, he was slipping through them effortlessly.

  “Come on, Locke.” Drifter taunted. “You were talking shit earlier. Are you even trying?”

  The clanking chains halted, but contrary to his boasting, Drifter was not in a favourable position. The moment he tried to taunt Locke a second time, he paused.

  “Uh… I can’t see.”

  Locke’s chains had kicked up a haze of dust and dirt. Drifter was so caught up in his theatrics he hadn’t noticed the smokescreen that slowly built up around him.

  “Huh, didn’t see that coming… literally.” He grunted. “But, I can still sense your presence, Locke. You haven’t moved from that spot.”

  “How perceptive of you.” Locke responded.

  “If cheap tricks like that are all you've got, then you're done.”

  Drifter rushed toward Locke, but was suddenly blindsided by a large metallic fist flying in from his left, crashing into his cheek and cancelling his attack. Drifter stumbled momentarily as he tried to figure out what just hit him.

  “Fuck… what was-?”

  Before he could finish, another fist slammed into his back. He remained standing, but was still stumped.

  “Where did-?”

  Another metal arm battered him in the gut.

  Being attacked from the front gave Drifter a clear view of what was assaulting him.

  “Chains?” He wheezed. “You fucking serious? I can sense Locke, but I can’t sense his chains? That’s… gay...”

  His eight chains bundled together to create a large iron battering ram that he repeatedly slammed into Drifter over and over again. With no way of seeing or sensing which direction they were coming from through the haze, Drifter continued to take a beating.

  And yet, Drifter drew no blood, his bones were in tact and even his clothes remained untorn. He just stood there, allowing himself to be thrown around like a ragdoll.

  Eventually, chains appeared from underneath Drifter and wrapped around his legs, followed by another set constricting his arms, locking him in place. Once the dust finally settled, Locke could see Drifter had been completely immobilized.

  He held him at a distance, lifting him into the air.

  “Got you.” Locke declared.

  “You think so, cunt?”

  “Not even your power can break these chains, Drifter. Give up.”

  “Make me.”

  “I could rip you apart if I wanted to.”

  “Then do it.”

  “Tell me, is the reason you’ve stuck around all these years simply out of childish stubbornness?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of course, but is this really how you want to die? Why not surrender the sword?”

  “You fucking dense? I’d be amazed if you could rip off a single limb, let alone kill me.”

  “Is that so? Let’s put your claim to the test.”

  The chains around Drifter’s limbs tightened and began to pull. As they gripped harder, Drifter’s aura intensified to fight back against the strain. The struggle turned into another tug-of-war with neither side willing to give an inch. The stronger Locke tugged on his chains, the more Drifter’s power increased and his muscles tensed.

  It soon became clear to Locke that he wasn’t making any progress and that Drifter could easily stall him out with his near limitless stamina.

  “This is getting a little queer, can we stop?” Drifter asked.

  “Why…? Why won’t you break!?”

  “I could say the same to you. What the hell are your chains made out of? I can’t break them, no matter how much power I use.”

  “YOU LIE!”

  Drifter was stunned by Locke’s sudden emotional scream.

  “Even now, you’re holding back! Stop patronising me, Drifter! Show me your real power! CORE’s real power! This fight is pointless, otherwise!”

  “Hey, now you’re catching on. How about you let me down and we stop wasting each other's time?”

  “Never! As long you’re in my clutches, you’re completely immobilised! I’ll keep you locked tight for days if I have to! Until you show me what you’re really made of!”

  “What about food?”

  “I haven’t needed food for over five years!”

  “In that case, have some of this.”

  With all his limbs securely fixed in place, Drifter still had one degenerate trick up his sleeve. He gathered his strength and shot a ball of spit from his mouth.

  The sticky saliva fired like a bullet and upon contact with Locke, exploded in a white light. Drifter had focused his power into an explosive spitball. It wasn’t his proudest moment, nor a technique he particularly enjoyed using, but he had to admit, he was pretty amused by it.

  “You, repulsive infant!”

  Recoiling from the blast, Locke’s chains loosened, freeing Drifter.

  As soon as he dropped to the ground, he dashed toward Locke, but his incoming attack was interrupted by chains suddenly bursting from the ground and locking his legs in place.

  Angered by Drifter’s lack of respect for both his opponent and basic decency, Locke lifted him into the air and swung him around, just as Drifter did to him, twirling him in circles until he was ready to slam him face first into the dirt.

  The
loud crash was nothing but simple catharsis for Locke. He knew an attack like that would mean nothing to Drifter, but he still felt it was necessary to pay him back for the humiliation from earlier.

  As predicted, Drifter got up relatively quickly and with Locke still recovering from the whirling, Drifter dashed forward and struck his fist in Locke’s general face area. The ground quaked and the earth split, but despite the sheer strength of the impact, it did nothing to shatter Locke’s shackles.

  “Huh… that’s awkward.” Drifter moaned.

  “Indeed. CORE’s power is too great for me to overcome and you’re not willing to use them to break my chains.”

  “I only use as much power as I need to. There’s no reason to go all out against you.”

  “I’m honestly baffled. How can any creature with such immense strength be so afraid to use it?”

  “I’m not afraid, I’m cautious!”

  “Only those prone to making mistakes are inherently cautious. What was your mistake?”

  “None of your damn business!”

  “This is why I can't trust humans with such power. They either abuse it or are too frightened to wield it to its full potential. They lack the discipline to be trusted with such a large responsibility.”

  “You think you could do a better job? One eye?”

  “Naturally.”

  “Okay then.” Drifter unsheathed his sword and chucked to the ground. “Let’s see it.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “No, no, show me. Let’s see how much you can handle.”

  The Legendary Demon Sword. CORE. After all this time, it was just laying before Locke, sitting in the dirt, waiting for him. He wasn’t sure what Drifter was trying to pull, but if wielding the sword would help break their stalemate then he was willing to take the risk.

  His chain wrapped around the handle, but it wasn’t until he brought the sword close to his body that he felt its power flow through him. It was a burning yet refreshing feeling, like his soul was reinvigorated after having been kept in stasis for so long. He was immersed in a white light that engulfed him until…