Head Over Tentacles

by K. L. Hiers

  All their attention was directed to where Alexander and Rota were now standing by the row of cages, and there was a loud screech of metal as Rota’s tentacles ripped the bars apart. He was collecting them into a bundle while Alexander snarled, “Heads up!”

  Rota hurled the bars like spears, aimed by Alexander’s quick eye. They struck Gronoch’s face and throat, making him roar with anger and lash back. A row of them stuck in his flesh like a metallic mohawk, black blood oozing from the depths of the punctures.

  Gronoch reached out, screaming angrily as he pulled them from his scales and sent a giant fist smashing into one of the cages, swinging at Alexander.

  Alexander was quicker, propelled by Rota’s tentacles, and nimbly moved out of harm’s way, shouting, “Jump in any fucking time, Sloane!”

  “Shit! Sorry!” Sloane closed his eyes and reached down deep, trying to summon the sword. He could hear a distant hum of power, Loch’s furious screams from inside his prison, and his own heart pounding in his ears.

  There, in the space between each pulse, he could feel the power bubbling up inside of him.

  He pulled as hard as he could, baring his teeth as he brought the sword to life. It burst forth from his hands, a blade of pure starlight, shimmering and glowing brightly. It lit up the enormous room with brilliant light, and Sloane had to concentrate to keep a hold of it.

  Alexander was leading Gronoch right to him, and Sloane held his ground, preparing to strike.

  “This is the end, Gronoch!” Sloane shouted, raising the sword high. “This is—” One of Gronoch’s tentacles smacked him right in the chest and sent him flying.

  “Sloane!” Loch screamed.

  Sloane crashed into the metal tables, glass tubes shattering around him and the trunk Gronoch had brought in popping open as it fell over next to him. He quickly scrambled out of the way as large fragments of bones scattered everywhere. He stumbled up to his knees, and though the sword flickered, it did not go out.

  “Okay! I’m good! I’m fine!”

  “Stupid fuckin’ idiot!” Alexander groaned. “Can’t you dodge?”

  “Fuck! I’m sorry!” Sloane gasped.

  Gronoch turned now on Alexander and Rota, his clawed hands being held in Rota’s invisible grip. Alexander was trying to keep it going, his arms outstretched alongside Rota’s. He was channeling all of Rota’s raw power into the hold, screaming, “Sloane! Now!”

  Sloane shook off the blow, eyeing the line of Gronoch’s hunched back. He switched to holding the sword in one hand and focused his thoughts.

  If he could hear Alexander, then maybe….

  I need to get up on his back!

  “Then come the fuck on!” Alexander hollered, blood gushing down his face from his nose. He was weakening, and all of Rota’s tentacles were tied up trying to keep Gronoch pinned.

  Sloane broke into a run, sprinting as fast as he could toward them.

  Every second seemed to tick by at slow speed, and it was like Sloane was running through water. He saw Alexander drop to a knee, screaming in pain as more blood flooded down his face.

  Alexander! Rota wailed, his tentacles writhing and flexing to fend off Gronoch. His grip was breaking, his voice cracking as he cried, Don’t! You have to stop! I’m losing you!

  “Don’t let go!” Alexander screamed back. “Don’t you dare! He has to die!”

  I love you, you stubborn boy, Rota roared, heaving his massive body from the floor and forcing Gronoch back a step.

  “I love you!” Alexander panted, his head jerking back to Sloane. “Sloane?”

  “Now!” Sloane shouted, finally reaching them and leaping into the air.

  “Rota!” Alexander thrust his hand up to direct a ghostly tentacle at Sloane.

  Sloane grunted as it wrapped around his waist, air whipping by him as he was launched higher. He began to fall, aimed right at Gronoch’s head, the blade set to strike his throat.

  Yes.

  This was it.

  One hit and it would be over.

  “Not quick enough, little mortal,” Gronoch sneered, suddenly breaking a tentacle free from Rota’s compromised grip and swiping at Sloane.

  “Oh, fuck meeeee!” Sloane screamed as he went soaring back toward the elevator.

  “Sloane!” Loch roared from behind the barrier, clawing and pounding his head into it. It was useless; Loch was still trapped and screaming helplessly, “Sloane! My love!”

  Sloane grunted as his back hit the wall, and he threw up a shield to help break his fall as he slammed into the ground.

  “Sloane!” Galgareth cried, trying to join Loch’s efforts to break through the wall around them, but nothing was working. “Sloane! Are you okay?”

  Groaning, Sloane managed to lift a hand to weakly wave. The room was spinning and his shoulder was throbbing. The shield had helped catch him, but it broke as soon as he landed.

  Rota’s hold shattered as Alexander collapsed, bloody and defeated onto the floor. He was still trying to hold himself up, and Rota’s tentacles were wrapping all around him to help lift him.

  Gronoch reared back and pounded his fists against Rota’s invisible mass.

  Rota’s skin turned bright purple and red, his body taking on its physical version to fight back against Gronoch’s attacks. Alexander could barely sit up, wiping blood off his face and struggling to move.

  “Oh, what the fuck are you doing?” a very familiar voice whined. “Really? Fighting a god? This is so lame!”

  “Asta?” Sloane jerked his head over to see a giant black cat monster now standing beside him.

  No, not a monster—an Asra.

  Asta was now as big as a Clydesdale, with a huge mouth full of pointed teeth, tentacles spiraling out from the tip of his long tail and more hanging by his pointed ears. He was as thin and sleek in this body as his human form was, flashing his fearsome teeth in what might have been a smile.

  “Miss me, Starkiller?” he cooed.

  “Where the fuck have you been?”

  “Okay, so I didn’t exactly go straight home to Xenon,” Asta confessed, bowing his giant head down and helping Sloane stand up. “Backstreet Boys, all very complicated! But I’m here now!”

  “We could definitely use your help.” Sloane got back on his feet with a loud groan. “Alexander. Over there! Please go help him!”

  “What the fuck is an Alexander?”

  “Go!” Sloane shouted impatiently.

  “On it!” Asta crouched down and took off, gracefully leaping into the air and sinking his teeth into Gronoch’s arm.

  Gronoch roared in pain, his attention diverted to the giant cat attacking him. He swung his fist to strike Asta, but Asta quickly opened a portal and dropped safely through to dodge it. A second later, he popped out of another portal and landed on Gronoch’s head, clawing at his eyes.

  Sloane grunted when a hand tugged at his waist, whirling around to see Gronoch’s human vessel grabbing at him.

  “It’s inevitable!” the mortal hissed. “Salgumel will rise! He will wake and remake the world—”

  There was a distinct thunk, and he collapsed.

  Toby stood over him with one of the broken bars Rota had thrown earlier, and he was wielding it like a baseball bat. His eyes snapped up at Sloane, and he pleaded, “Go! Now! Kill that son of a bitch!”

  “On it!” Sloane summoned a new sword of starlight, and in a panic, he hurled it as hard as he could at Gronoch.

  Gronoch had just pulled Asta off his face and thrown him aside as the blade struck his shoulder and made him howl in pain. “You insignificant little worm!”

  Rota had managed to drag Alexander away while Gronoch was distracted, both of them clearly exhausted from battle, and Sloane wasn’t even sure if Alexander was conscious.

  Asta was up, shaking off his impromptu flight and crouching for another attack.

  The sword in Gronoch’s flesh faded, and Sloane focused his magic to create another one in his hands. It was harder now, the hilt burning his skin,
but he kept at it.

  It wasn’t enough, not yet.

  Asta took off, roaring as he lunged up at Gronoch’s throat. He sank his teeth in, and black blood sprayed out in a wet gush.

  “Fuck yeah!” Sloane cheered.

  Gronoch snatched Asta away, blood pouring down from the deep wound left behind. He squeezed him like a little toy and hurled him against the wall. Asta collided with a horrible smack, fell to the ground, and didn’t move.

  “Oh fuck no!” Sloane used his anger to fuel the sword’s summoning.

  There!

  “You nasty little fools!” Gronoch roared, turning his mammoth body to attack Sloane.

  As Gronoch’s fist came down, Sloane swung the fully formed sword up with a scream. It hurt to hang on to it, but he couldn’t stop. He watched the blade effortlessly pass through Gronoch’s hand and drop some of his fingers onto the floor.

  He had to keep going.

  Gronoch roared in pain and lunged at him again, his tentacles whipping around to strike.

  Sloane swung the sword with one hand to meet Gronoch’s fist, quickly throwing up a shield with the other to fend off the whipping tentacles. The blade cut, the shield held, and he kept on fighting.

  He could already feel the drain on his body from using so much magic, and trying to fight something the size of King Kong was almost laughable. Blow after blow, he was making mincemeat of Gronoch’s hands and managing to block the swipe of his tentacles.

  Alexander was up on his feet, but barely. He was hacking up blood, clinging to Rota’s ghostly appendages and staggering to join back in. “Sloane… I’m coming!”

  “Be right… there!” Asta groaned, weakly lifting himself up. “Delivery in thirty minutes or less… or it’s free.” He collapsed.

  “Stay back!” Sloane urged frantically. “Both of you just stay back—”

  The moment he turned his head, Gronoch struck. His bloody fist punched Sloane squarely in the chest and all of his starlight faded. He couldn’t breathe, coughing violently and finding blood all over his hands as he lurched backward.

  He tried to inhale and his ribs burned like they were on fire, wheezing as more blood splattered onto his palms.

  “This ends!” Gronoch snarled. “Now!”

  Sloane fell to his knees, trying to call on his powers. He had to do this. He had to win. His thoughts were flooded with bloody cages and helpless cries. He could hear Loch screaming and Alexander’s desperate shouts.

  He had never felt this weak….

  He only had enough magic for one more spell.

  Grinding his teeth from the agony, Sloane called on the sword one last time. He had an idea. It was a long shot, but he was out of options.

  This would work. It just had to.

  “Think that’s going to do anything?” Gronoch sneered, scoffing at the way the blade flickered in and out. “Ha! You couldn’t hit me with that puny little thing right now if you tried!”

  “Not… gonna try….” Sloane groaned, flashing a quick grin. He lifted the sword and hurled it as hard as he could at the barrier holding Loch and Galgareth.

  “No!” Gronoch howled as the wall shattered. “Impossible!”

  Loch came flying out of the broken prison and launched himself right at Gronoch, his long jaws wrapping around his neck as he tackled him to the ground.

  Galgareth swept Sloane into her giant arms, asking urgently, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine!” Sloane protested. “Loch! We have to help Loch!”

  At the moment, Loch didn’t seem to need any help. He was chewing away at Gronoch’s throat and clawing at his chest as he snarled, “You will never hurt anyone ever again! Not my mate! Not our sister! No one!”

  “Sloane….” Alexander called for him, weak but alive.

  “I’m here!” Sloane called back. “Alexander?”

  “Rota’s… body….” Alexander pleaded. “We need to know….”

  “Gal, come on,” Sloane urged. “Let’s finish this.”

  Galgareth gently set Sloane down, and she lumbered over to help Loch pin Gronoch to the ground. Gronoch was too weak to fight them both, and Galgareth said quickly, “Whatever you need to ask, do it now!”

  “Gronoch!” Sloane called. “Rota’s body! What did you do with it?”

  “What?” Gronoch groaned incredulously, ceasing his struggling for a moment. He actually laughed, scoffing in disgust, “You have me at your pathetic mercy and that’s what you ask of me?”

  “Answer the question!”

  “Between the stars and the veil of dreaming, at the everlasting fountain of the Kindress,” Gronoch sneered. “That’s where I stashed it!”

  “The Kindress?” Sloane couldn’t believe it. “That’s just a freakin’ myth!”

  Even the most faithful of Sagittarian worshippers denied its existence and claimed it was just a silly story. The legend said that the Kindress was the first child of Great Azaethoth, not the beloved twins Etheril and Xarapharos.

  Shortly after its birth, the Kindress died in Great Azaethoth’s arms, and the mighty god’s tears of mourning flooded the skies. The tears were so great that they had threatened to drown the world, and so Azaethoth trapped them in a fountain.

  Speculation about the fountain’s possible power varied, but the myth surrounding the Kindress was always the same: Just as Great Azaethoth had brought life to the universe, the Kindress could only bring death.

  “That’s bullshit!” Alexander snapped. He was standing upright, staring hatefully up at Gronoch. “There’s no such place!”

  “I found it,” Gronoch declared. “That’s where I hid that worthless chunk of flesh after setting his soul free! Ha! The legends are all true, and you will never see that body again!”

  “Tell us where it is!” Loch barked, snapping his sharp teeth at Gronoch.

  “Never!” Gronoch said gleefully.

  “He’s not going to tell us,” Galgareth scoffed. “Even if the fountain is real, he would never share its location.”

  “Wait.” Sloane rubbed his forehead. “You guys are gods… and you don’t even know if it’s a real place?”

  Loch and Galgareth exchanged a sheepish look, tough to do with tentacles and fangs, but they pulled it off.

  That moment of levity was short-lived, however, as Gronoch seized the moment of distraction. He twisted his strong arms and broke free in mere seconds. He came charging right at Sloane, screaming, “You’re mine now, Starkiller!”

  “Shit, shit, shit!” Sloane screamed, not thinking and simply reacting. He didn’t think he had any strength left, and his hands were blistered from using the sword so much, but he had nothing else to attack with.

  He flung his arms forward, calling on the magic deep within, and heard a soft whisper in his ear. It was over before he could understand what it was saying, but he was overwhelmed with a massive surge of power. Before his eyes, he saw a new sword of starlight materializing in thin air, spinning wildly….

  And sinking right into Gronoch’s chest.

  Gronoch staggered and collapsed on his side with a low groan. “No… impossible!”

  Sloane lunged forward, grabbing the hilt of the sword even as it scalded him, and ran down the length of Gronoch’s body with a pained scream.

  Gronoch was split wide open, and his body started to deteriorate and fade away into nothing. “This isn’t the end… not yet… there’s so many more of us… we’ll find the Kindress… we will awaken Salgumel… and then you’ll all die….”

  Alexander kicked Gronoch’s snout and nearly fell back over from his efforts. “You fucking bastard! Tell me where Rota’s body is! If you can do one fucking decent thing before you die, just fucking tell me!” He was hysterical, his voice cracking as he desperately screamed, “Please!”

  All Gronoch did was laugh.

  Loch had reassumed his human body, his strong arms embracing Sloane and holding him close. Sloane fell against him, surprised to find that he was shaking all over.
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  Gronoch’s body was consumed in a brilliant light, and it exploded into a giant burst of glittering bits before vanishing completely.

  Sloane wrapped his arms around Loch’s neck to steady himself, whispering, “It’s over.”

  “Yes,” Loch said with a slight nod, his voice strained. His brows furrowed in concern as he took Sloane’s blistered hands in his own. “Oh, my love, you’re hurt.”

  “I’m okay,” Sloane swore, but he was grateful when Loch healed him. The blisters faded beneath Loch’s glowing fingers, and there was a slitted tentacle hovering at his lips.

  “Here,” Loch urged. “Drink.”

  “But that’s, it’s—” In spite of the pain Sloane was in, he had his reservations about guzzling down one of Loch’s magical loads in front of an audience. Magical healing or not, it was… weird.

  “What?” Loch asked flatly, oblivious to the reason behind Sloane’s embarrassment. “Galgareth has seen me share my seed before!”

  “True,” Galgareth piped up. She was back inside Toby’s body and dusting herself off.

  “Asta still appears to be asleep,” Loch went on, “and Alexander and Rota probably don’t mind—”

  “Ulgh,” Alexander grumbled. “Whatever.”

  “Just be quick.” Sloane opened his mouth as his face turned bright red. He swallowed, unable to hold back a low groan as the sweet fluid hit his tongue. He could feel the aches in his chest and shoulder fading, his body slowly rejuvenating from the divine liquid.

  “There,” Loch said smugly. He turned to Alexander, offering, “If you’d like some—”

  “No,” both Sloane and Alexander snapped in unison.

  “Hmmph, I was just trying to help.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Alexander snorted, turning to gaze up at Rota. He reached for him, and he cradled Rota’s massive head and held him close. I love you.

  I love you too. Rota materialized, very briefly, the purple-and-red beast fully revealed.

  You shouldn’t, you need your strength. Alexander pressed his cheek against Rota’s snout. By all the gods, you feel so good… I just wish….

  When I’m fully restored, you can have all of me that you want, Rota promised.

  Kisses?

  Those too….

  Alexander smiled sadly, pressing a tender kiss to Rota’s nose.