by Aleks Canard
‘That’s alright. I know Duskmere’s not exactly your favourite place anyway. How about we go there,’ Trix gestured to her and Felix, ‘and have a few drinks while we wait for you. Then when you’re done we can celebrate at home, just the three of us, no dirty seats, and clean glasses.’
Susan kissed Trix on the head. ‘Have a drink for me, though please make it something finer than lager, if Duskmere possesses anything of that calibre.’ She kissed Felix on the lips. ‘I’d tell you to look after our girl, but I think she’s the one who’s been looking after you for some time.’
‘Hey, I’m still not as old as you.’
‘I had no idea you wanted to sleep on the floor tonight.’
Felix smiled. ‘Better not keep those lords waiting.’
Susan bid farewell to her loved ones then opened a portal. She stepped through. Disappeared. The next time she saw the love of her life, and the only daughter she would ever know, they would both be drenched in enough blood to soak their bones.
Felix and Trix walked merrily westward together. Warm winds came from the Quenpoe Desert. It was a frozen wasteland at night. No matter the season, noon always brought sweltering temperatures from the torrid expanse. The corrachs in Verachlasste dreaded noon. Winter nights made up for the heat though. To them, it was almost as cold as Raursioc. However, no planet could match its biting winds.
It took Trix and Felix an hour to reach Duskmere at their leisurely pace. The clock read just past high noon when they arrived at the main road. Trix got some looks. She was thankful to see they were at her sword. It was better than being sneered at.
The hunter and the huntress entered Duskmere’s main saloon, Last Drop. Its batwing doors were open. Battered screens were showing all-star smashball games. A group of tough customers were sitting at the bar. They were definitely Duskmere residents. You could tell from the skin. The way all the crevices were filled with dirt. And how worn their clothes were. All the materials had been weathered by sand, day in, day out.
Felix knew of them. They were miners. While the corrachs controlled Zilvia’s main adamant deposits, humans and zireans were still permitted smaller mines around the Quenpoe Desert’s outer plains. One look at their calloused hands was telling of their chosen occupation. Machines did most of the work, but mining adamant was a costly business. Its density meant that drills required round the clock maintenance.
Felix pulled up a stool. Trix sat beside him, resting her arms on the bar. Not minding the dust. The bartender came over to Felix. His wary eyes flitted to Trix, catching her glinting sword pummel.
‘Hunter, what can I get you?’
‘Two pints of your finest lager, my good man.’
‘Celebrating something?’
‘My daughter’s officially become a huntress today. She puts me to shame she’s so great,’ Felix said, putting his hand on Trix’s back. The machina blushed. She also scanned the bar. The other customers sitting at the counter gave each other disgusted looks upon hearing Felix’s words.
The bartender said nothing. In actual fact, he mumbled something incoherent. Trix couldn’t make it out. He filled two pint glasses. He was human. Other people in town and in Last Drop were menisel-zirean.
Two glasses slid across the old wooden counter. A smashball team just scored on the TV behind the bar. A couple of comments were murmured.
‘What’d I owe you?’ Felix said, still smiling.
‘You, girl,’ said the bartender. ‘You’re the one who killed those scorpoes last year, ain’t you?’
‘That’s right.’
He nodded. ‘On the house.’
‘Thanks,’ Trix said. A smile made its way up her face. This had to be the first time anyone besides Felix and Susan had shown her kindness.
‘Oi, come on, Lloyd,’ a blond man said from the other side of the counter, which encircled the bar on four sides. ‘How come we don’t get one on the house?’
‘You kill some monsters, you can get one too. Fair’s fair, Kable.’
‘Leave it, James,’ a green-haired menisel said to the uppity blond. ‘Watch the game.’
‘There’s nothing to leave. I just want to know why the girl gets a free drink. Look at that sword on her back. Doesn’t look like she needs the charity.’
Trix made a move to leave the bar and head for a booth. One near a window. Felix put his hand on hers. She stayed where she was. Both of them took long draughts.
‘I live near where those damned scorpoes were romping around. She did me a favour. You too, Kable. You live out there like the rest of us.’
‘Yeah, but, Lloyd,’ James Kable rose off his seat. He was in thick work clothes despite the heat. Slash proof gloves were tucked into his back pocket. His shoulders were bursting from his shirt. His strength was apparent from the first glance. The sides of his head were shaved. A haphazard quiff peppered with Quenpoe sand flopped to the side. ‘My brother fucking died because of those damn monsters. Seems to me like her job wasn’t well done. And are you about rewarding half-assed jobs now, Lloyd? If that’s the case,’ he turned to his mates, ‘then we’ll never have to pay again, boys. On the house drinks forever.’
‘Sit your ass down, Kable. You’re making a fool of yourself.’
‘I’m just talking here. That’s my right. I can talk if I want.’
James had made it to where Trix and Felix were, acting indifferent to his tirade. He leaned on the counter beside Felix. Stretched towards Trix.
‘You hear that, nikker. My brother died because you didn’t do your job. So I think the least you can do is buy me a beer.’
‘I’m sorry about your brother. If buying a beer can make it up to you, then sure.’ Trix pulled some orit notes from her trouser pocket. She reckoned that would do. It wasn’t her fault that the man’s brother had died. A contract had only been issued after two deaths.
‘It would ease the pain, you know. Good on you, nikker,’ said James, walking around Felix to lean beside her. He smelled like dirt, oil, and metal. ‘You know what else would ease my pain, nikker,’ he grinned. His friends had given up reeling him in. ‘My cock, you see, it’s throbbing something terrible. Why don’t you put it in your mouth for me? Who knows, you might want it everywhere else too. I think that’d be good for both of us, you know. A nice way of showing you’re really sorry. What’d you think?’
Trix was fuming on the inside. Whoever James Kable was, he was a first-class asshole of the highest order. She finished her beer. Rose to leave. Tugged Felix on the arm. ‘Come on, dad. We’re late for mum,’ she lied.
Felix obliged. He was proud of Trix for handling herself so well. ‘Thanks again for the drinks,’ he said to the bartender.
Lloyd waved, then cast a vicious gaze at James. He didn’t blame Trix or Felix for leaving. If Kable kept speaking, Lloyd was going to deck him. Sure, the girl was a nikker. But you didn’t spit on people who helped you. Yes she had taken a payment for the kill, so what? Considering what she’d had to do, Lloyd figured the price was a bargain.
‘Ah come on,’ James grabbed Trix’s wrist. Held on tightly. ‘It’d be fun. You don’t have to leave. If you really don’t wanna, I’ll back off, right?’ Despite his words, James kept his grip on Trix’s arm.
‘No, thank you,’ she said, pulling her hand away. Her knuckles were savage dogs. Chained. Hungry. Starved. They wanted to break James’ face into a mushy sack. One right jab would turn his skull into a pouch as soft as his testicles. The Valkyrie swallowed her anger.
James went to grab her again. This time Felix stepped in.
‘She said no. Leave it, son. Go back to your friends.’
Now James stepped back, raising his hands as if to drop the blame assigned to him. He kept watching Felix and Trix as they walked to the main entrance’s batwing doors. Felix stepped through first. That was when James spoke again. He didn’t notice that the rest of the bar had fallen silent. Even the TVs had been muted.
‘I know why you won’t fuck me. It’s obvious now. You’
re fucking your dad. The fucking nikker lover. I suppose that’s not too gross. Not like he’s your real dad. Your real dad was probably some nothing bum who watched your mum die as you were ripped from her womb like the savage beast you are. Piss off. We don’t want either of you round here.’
This stopped Trix dead in her tracks. She could hear her blood boiling in her veins. Roasting her skin. Trix turned towards James.
‘I’m going to give you a chance to apologise.’
‘Oh,’ James pointed to his chest. ‘You’re going to give me a chance? Like you gave my brother a chance to die when you were too busy bouncing your filthy nikker ass up and down on your daddy’s cock?’
‘Trix,’ Felix said. His voice calm. His eyes assessing the bar for any possible threats. He only found one. Trix. His nerves played like violins in slasher films.
The huntress didn’t hear her father. She walked to James who still thought he was the big man in town, judging from his smug smile.
‘Fodio mufy,’ James’ green haired menisel friend said. ‘Shut up and sit down.’
‘Why would I do that?’ James said, not taking his eyes off Trix. ‘She’s coming back. She’s changed her mind. I’m going to enjoy this.’
Trix came close to James’ face. His was a big guy. Slightly taller than her. His muscles wouldn’t help him in this fight. Trix could cave in his skull with one jab. Break all of his ribs with one right hook.
‘Apologise now. To me, and to my dad.’
‘I’ll think about apologising while you suck my dick, nikker.’
Trix grabbed James by the collar. Slammed him against the counter. The new silence which gripped Last Drop made the previous quiet seem comparatively uproarious.
‘Whoa alright, alright. Sorry to you, and your dad. I was just having a go. Fuck. No need to get violent. I just wanted a blowjob.’
The huntress gave James a “gentle” shove. Enough to scare him. Not enough to break bones. She walked back to Felix. He was relieved that violence wouldn’t be erupting.
That was when James Kable wrapped his hand around the pint glass Felix had been using.
‘Fuck you and your nikker loving dad too, whore,’ he said, grinning like a child at an amusement park. Trix had smelled his breath before. He’d drunk so much alcohol he was probably a hundred proof.
That set Trix off. Rage the likes of which she had never known exploded her nerve endings. Atomised them. Set the remains aflame. First, Susan couldn’t be here to celebrate with them. Now some dickhead thought he could get away with saying shit like that to her. No way. He was dead. Maybe it was some side-effect of the dryads’ final test, but she heard the malice of years past in James’ voice. When that woman flung shit at her. When spit rained from windows. Contemptuous names were called. Sneers typically reserved for the galaxy’s worst class of criminal were offered to Trix without a second thought.
The dryads said that she had harnessed the power of death. Trix was going to see if that was true.
Trix evaded James’ clumsy throw without thinking. Crossed the gap between herself and Kable in the blink of an eye. Her fist met his face square on. The punch sent a shockwave through his skull. All his bones where shattered. His head lost its shape. It deflated. Became formless. Trix knew he’d still be alive.
Felix called her name. She didn’t hear him. Trix was entering the realm where death was hers to command. And in that realm, there was only controlled rage. Calculated lethality. No room for compassion.
The huntress drew her sword. James Kable had wanted her to swallow his manhood. No. She would mutilate it. She thrust. The blade broke James’ pelvic bone instantly. His dick was skewered like a sausage. Then Trix twisted, tearing a brutal hole where James’ lower abdominals had been. He couldn’t scream for his jaw no longer existed. All his teeth had been knocked out. He was struggling to not choke on his own tongue.
Then Trix heaved her sword upwards. The rest of James’ body was split open. She hadn’t penetrated his heart yet. Blood sprayed everywhere. Trix’s dress was coated in it. Her face was saturated.
The entire ordeal had only lasted a handful of seconds.
James’ friends were stunned into submission. Lloyd reached for his rifle which he kept behind the bar. Only Kable had been talking shit. Logically, the machina would only kill him and move on.
But her face. Its pallor was ghostly. Her fair skin had turned ashen. Her golden irises resembled exploding suns. Fury danced across them. There was a disturbing focus in her eyes as well. It sliced through her wrath. Trix’s face was not that of a rabid dog. She was a merciless killer. A cold-hearted demon.
She was death.
Trix couldn’t hear Felix calling her back. But she did hear the menisel James had been talking to say:
‘The nikker’s lost it.’
He spoke with no hatred. Only utter disbelief. The way people were wont to do when they saw gods walk the earth, or angels come from the sky. Unfortunately for him, Trix didn’t see it that way. Didn’t sense his underlying fear. She was in combat’s flow, even if she was the only one fighting. This was for all the times people had spit on her for nearly ten years. Or had kicked her out. Or had called her a monster.
The machina vaulted over the counter, using a spell to slide through the air towards the menisel. Lloyd was still reaching for his gun. Felix could’ve sworn that Trix had developed the ability to control time. There was a folklore tale that said Death was comprised of three parts: The Reaper, the Gravedigger, and the Timekeeper. Often represented as Father Time, his powers allowed Death to work. Though Father Time was so much more important than that.
Felix struggled to move even with his enhanced reflexes. He’d forgotten how. His feet were rooted to the spot. Trix was unrecognisable. In all her training, Felix had never seen her like this. She’d transformed.
Trix’s feet hit the menisel in the chest. His cavity collapsed like a drumkit being hit by an anvil. His heart exploded. Trix flipped backwards. Her sword slashed while she was upside-down. Another menisel had his neck sliced open. His spine was severed cleanly in two. Fountains of blood poured from his new hole. The menisel’s body could’ve been mistaken for a gothic water feature in the moment before hitting the floor. Standing in the centre of a cliff side mansion courtyard where the nights were always dark and stormy.
All James’ friends were finally shocked into action. It wasn’t the sight of Trix that did it. But the spray of blood on their faces. And the alkaline taste on their tongues. They started fleeing. Hollering that the nikker was blood drunk. A monster. A demon. Possessed. Fucked out of her mind. How they screamed. Desperation wafted from their pores. A mini apocalypse was occurring in Last Drop. Though there was only one Valkyrie in the place of four horsemen.
How she put those storied spectres to shame.
Lloyd had grabbed his rifle. He didn’t have time to raise it to his shoulder. Went to hip fire. He got one shot off. Alas, his nerves rattled his aim. His shot planted itself in Trix's shoulder.
The Valkyrie’s head didn’t so much as turn to Lloyd as it snapped to him. He realised his mistake too late. The Valkyrie couldn’t feel pain in her current state. It no longer existed. She also didn’t know exhaustion. She altered gravity around Lloyd by flexing her left hand, making him fall towards her. He fired again. It went too wide. But it was at the perfect angle for the machina. Trix deflected the shot with her sword. The bullet entered Lloyd through his two front teeth. It was a clean shot through his medulla oblongata. But that wasn’t enough for Trix. She rent Lloyd’s head open from his right eye to the left corner of his mouth.
Trix looked for the remaining scumbags. They had just made it out the door. Headed for the street. She propelled herself from the counter. One patron was cut from shoulder to hip. His body slid to the floor like a glacier into the ocean.
More fell. Trix danced from one person to another. Each kill only made her thirstier. Her senses were heightened. Everyone was moving so slowly. Blood dripped off her
skin. It looked like it had rained, but solely over Trix. Duskmere’s other residents couldn’t look away from Trix’s massacre. It was unbelievable. Surely it was a nightmare. But none of them had remembered being so afraid in their dreams.
Bystanders were cut down with impunity. Seventeen people had fallen to Trix’s blade. The road was running with blood. So slick you could slip. Though you wouldn’t hurt yourself if you did. All the corpses would break your fall. Everyone had well and truly cleared the immediate area. Trix stood in the centre of the destruction. Her rage was about to subside.
That was when she heard footsteps behind her. In one final bout of anger, she pivoted, bringing her sword up in a slash. Her eyes noticed who it was as she turned. Trix was hopeless to stop moving. She pulled back in the last moment. The tip of her blade traced the man across his chest. His skin opened in two flaps.
Felix Westwood was brought to his knees. His chest was hanging loose over his bones. His muscular form could no longer find the strength to make him stand.
This image was what Trix needed to break free of death’s hold. Her sword fell to the ground. She rushed to Felix’s side, catching him before he fell backwards. Her scream sent chills worse than biting frost through Duskmere’s residents. Her wails rode the wind like winged demons. Tears streamed down her face like rivers, creating tracks among the blood that caked her cheeks.
She could still hear Felix’s heart beating.
‘No no no no no, dad, you’re gonna be okay. Alright. You’re going to be fine. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s them. All of them.’ She turned to the rest of the town. ‘Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone? Huh? Fuck off and leave me alone.’
‘My friend,’ Felix said. His voice was weak. His heart was giving out. Trix cried harder. She couldn’t stop her tears. They were too strong. And at the moment, she was too weak. Pain emanated from her shoulder. Had she been shot? She vaguely remembered something hitting her.