Brightblade

by Jez Cajiao

  I saw Jordan had grabbed my gear from the lockers and placed it on the back bar, so I collected it and thanked him, getting a sad smile and a fist bump as I headed for the door. Jonno had called a female PC over to sit with him and the girl, and he nodded at me as I headed out. I didn’t need verbal confirmation that he could see what I had; something was very wrong with the girl.

  I jogged up the stairs and past the bouncers at the door. Both of them seemed a little sheepish that it had turned into a brawl and they‒the people who were supposed to deal with that, and make sure it didn’t happen‒had been absent. I understood though; they were called doormen for a reason, after all. Couldn’t expect them to deal with everything.

  One opened the door for me, and I thanked them both as I left. The club was in the bottom of an old building, with three flights of stairs before you hit ground level, so I was surprised to discover the heavy snowfall that had blanketed everything. It’d not felt cold or anything downstairs, and on my way in, I’d barely seen a few flakes, but now? It was all Winter Wonderland everywhere I looked.

  Well, Winter Wonderland with staggering drunks, taxis blaring horns at anything and everything, flashing lights on a squad car, and a half-dozen girls pleading with a taxi driver to let them in. Every time the driver said he was booked, they just hiked the skirts a little higher or the top a little lower.

  He’d cave in soon, I knew; either that, or they’d freeze to death, as all the material that was left was barely more than a large belt at this point…I grinned despite myself and looked the girls over, having a momentary fantasy about getting the car and offering them a lift…and seeing what I’d get in response. The tall blonde especially was…No! Dammit, man, you’ve got Lou. Behave yourself!

  I shook my head again as I zipped up my jacket, crunching across the snow to the curb and jogging across the road, getting a few honks from taxi drivers as I went. It was barely a five-minute walk to the parking lot, but I was frozen solid by the time I got there, and oh so tired. The adrenaline that had flooded my system earlier had worn off and left me with a level of exhaustion that could fell an ox.

  When I finally got to my car, I ducked inside and fired up the heaters on full blast, deciding I’d rather let the snow melt off than trying to scrape it off at this stage, and pulled out my phone. I hadn’t had it while I had been working due to a standard bar rule, and I hadn’t wanted to get it out with the snow, just in case it got wet, even though modern phones had so many protective features these days. Just a little holdover from older times, I thought.

  I read through a few messages and checked ‘Find My Friends’. Sure enough, Lou was back at her place now. I was tempted to drop by, even though she’d been clear she was having a night out with the girls. She wouldn’t really mind if I came over, now would she? Maybe stop off and grab a bottle of wine on the way, have a little drink, kick her friends out of her bed, and maybe get a little loving? Or ask if they wanted to play too? In your dreams…

  I sent her a message, quickly telling her good night and that I’d see her tomorrow. We’d been together about six months now, going from sex to more. I kind of thought it was love, but neither of us had said it yet, and I wasn’t going to be the first. Idiot…

  I drove home and had a quick shower, washing off the funk of the club, before pouring myself a glass of rum and heading to bed, exhausted. I’ll deal with everything tomorrow, I decided, fuck it all.

  ◆◆◆

  I fell forwards, my mind flailing as I awoke and hit the ground hard, inhaling sharply with the shock of the impact. I burst out coughing as my lungs filled with smoke and dust. Looking around in the darkness I shivered violently, as the air was freezing. With my head still reeling, I stood up slowly. As my weight shifted on the scree scattered across the floor, I staggered and leaned against one wall. I immediately straightened up and pulled away as the icy stone numbed my skin. I coughed and choked, blinking through the haze while I tried to work out what had happened. I stumbled away from the sarcophagus I’d been born again in, remnants of amniotic fluid dripping from me as I tried to make sense of my surroundings.

  I was in a small room, the sarcophagus behind me still leaking fluid onto the floor. The lid hung loose and was swinging crazily due to leaning at such an odd angle. It was barely upright, half sunken into the wall and the room. I looked around in bemusement; every other time I’d had one of these dreams I had woken into a warm room that was well-lit and filled with supplicants who held equipment ready for me. This time, the room was dimly illuminated by the faint light of reflected flames, smoke filled the air, and my gear was missing. Half of the room looked like it had been buried by a landslide. I coughed again and staggered forward, awkwardly heaving myself over the stones and dirt of the collapsed wall as I tried to determine what had happened.

  A dark shape appeared in the smoke and I lurched toward it, coughing and raising a hand to get their attention.

  “Hey! Dude, what the fuck?” I called out, and the figure turned and began to approach me. I shook my head, forcing myself to focus as I moved forward. A tingle of warning started in the back of my mind.

  As I stepped outside, my feet crunching into the deep snow and disappearing up to mid-calf, the wind blew the smoke aside to reveal the man standing before me. He was tall, nearly as tall as I was, his face painted with blue and green design., He was dressed in heavy skins and carried an axe. An axe that dripped bright red blood onto the snow. He grinned at me, shouted something unintelligible over his shoulder at another man and hefted his axe. He strode forward, beckoning me eagerly as he sank into a fighting stance.

  Ah, shit…not again… I thought to myself, my brain finally catching up and adrenaline banishing the fog that had been filling my mind. I haven’t been pulled here in years. Why now, of all the fucking times…

  I backed away quickly, glancing around to find others in close proximity. Another glance revealed bodies in the snow, but the only living people were dressed as the first man, and all of them were covered in blood. Houses around the building I’d come from were burning, and a sudden scream filled the air from my left. The only house that wasn’t alight resonated with high-pitched screams; all women, I realized grimly. I knew what those screams meant. I took a deep breath and screwed up my courage even as I stepped back into the smoke. My confusion had vanished entirely, driven away by the anger that filled me. I knew what I had to do, why I’d been summoned. Either I died, and those in the house continued to suffer, or these men did.

  The first man I’d seen shouted something at me and hurried forward, but quickly lost me in the smoke and darkness. Years of similar experiences came back to me as I hid. I crouched by the rockslide, lifting a stone the size of my fist in each hand and waited.

  After a few seconds, I watched him advance through the smoke. He looked around but missed me kneeling in the darkness. I grinned coldly as I came to my feet, slipping around behind him as he peered about in the dim haze. I followed his steps, stalking him in the night. As he searched, he occasionally shouted into the darkness. Other voices answered him, and I knew they were hunting me too. That was a mistake on their side, a fatal one if I had my way.

  One more step, and I was within reach. As if alerted by some sixth sense, he glanced back, but much too late. All he saw was the rock gripped in my fist as it smashed into the bridge of his nose. He staggered back, blood spraying from his face. as he swung his axe, blindly trying to defend himself. I quickly stepped back as soon as I hit him, expecting his defensive swing, and slipped around to the side. Ducking beneath his swinging blade, I smashed the rocks in my hands into either side of his right knee . I felt the kneecap shatter with the blow, and I took two quick steps to my left, fading back into the smoke and darkness as he screamed and collapsed to the ground. I shrank back against the wall to hide in a darker patch of shadow and waited. Another figure appeared, running to the first man’s side. He stood over him, staring down in shock at the bloody ruin of his face and the mess that had repl
aced his knee. I crept up behind the second man, bringing both stones together on either side of his head as hard as I could. The blow sounded like a coconut being smashed with a hammer as I crushed his skull in at the temples. I grimaced at the sickening feeling of bones breaking under the impact. As he collapsed to the floor, blood ran from his nose and mouth and spread across the ground, his questioning last words cut off abruptly.

  I chucked the rocks aside and grabbed his sword. Drawing it as quietly as I could, I hefted it to get an idea of its weight. It was bigger than I generally liked, a hand and a half affair, but it was better than a pair of rocks any day. I melted back into the shadows again, leaving the injured man to wail in pain and fear. All he’d seen of me so far, after the first eye contact, was a shape in the smoke, maybe a clear glimpse of me for a second. I’d been careful to stay out of sight since. I had briefly appeared like a deadly phantom to kill his friend and then vanish again. The remains of his face grew white with fear and blood loss as his one remaining eye rolled around in panic.

  I waited, crouched in the burning remnants of another building. I fought to ignore the screams and smoke until more movement appeared. This time, there were three of them. Two appeared on the far side of the screaming man, with another one coming from my right, his back to me. Before the man on the ground could warn them, I darted forward. With the sound of my running feet covered by the screams and roar of flames climbing all around us, the closest man had no warning before my stolen sword punched into his lower back, the blade angled upwards to puncture a lung. I yanked the blade back out, spraying blood across the snow and drawing a surprised cry that ended in a wet gurgle and wheeze. He grabbed futilely at his chest, falling to the ground as he began to suffocate on his own blood.

  I continued forward, whipping my sword around to build up momentum and swinging hard for the heads of the remaining two. One managed to throw himself backward into the snow, screaming a warning into the night, but the other couldn’t back away fast enough.

  The tip of my sword dug into his jaw, cutting deeply before the force of the blow tore the lower half of his face free and sent him sprawling to the floor, thrashing and screaming.

  I spun to face the one that had dodged, barely deflecting his sword as he stabbed at my gut. He still managed to slice into the thin layer of fat covering my stomach. I hissed in pain as I backed up further, swinging my sword menacingly. I saw two more figures emerging from the darkness towards me, illuminated by the flames, and knew I didn’t have the time to engage in a sword fight. I flicked my blade left, then right, testing him. I saw the way his eyes followed the sword, not me, and I acted as quick as thought.

  “Catch!” I yelled, throwing my sword up in the air in front of him. He instinctively tried to grab it, and being the gentleman that I was, I kicked him as hard as I could in the balls. As the air went out of him, I grabbed his head with my left hand, using my right forearm to deflect the flat of his blade to the side. Then I pulled down hard, bringing his nose into my quickly rising right knee and sending him flying. As he fell over backwards, stunned and blinded by the pain from his broken nose, I swept my sword back up and leaped forward, battering him down hard as he raised his sword and attempted to get to his feet. The third time I hammered his sword aside, I finally saw an opening. Instead of hitting his upraised sword squarely, I hit it at an angle, driving it aside to slam my own blade down into his gut. The point of my weapon pierced him through and pinned him to the ground as he began screaming.

  I tried to pull the sword free, but it was stuck fast. The mixture of the frozen earth, snow, and my opponent’s writhing body kept me from freeing it, so I abandoned the weapon and jumped over him, heading away from the last direction I’d seen the other two.

  I tripped in the snow and staggered before coming to my feet on the far side of his body, blood slowly seeping down my own belly from my earlier wound. I stifled a groan of pain, my adrenaline keeping me going easily. One man came running out of the gloom, spear raised. He thrust forward, aiming at my guts as he came at me. I deflected the spear with my left hand, smacking the haft just below the head. I barely managed to push it far enough off course, and still received a thin cut across the outside of my hip. It stung, but I would take the scratch instead of a fatal injury. I brought my right fist across in an attempt to strike his jaw, but the punch was too fast and badly aimed, robbing it of any real force. We backed away from each other, circling as we went. I quickly scanned my surroundings again, jumping back to dodge another thrust, but I still couldn’t see the other man. I knew he was around, but I had lost track of him in the confusion. I couldn’t help but feel a creeping sensation between my shoulder blades as I imagined him sneaking up behind me…

  I realized suddenly the screams from the building had stopped, and sobbing was all that remained of the cries, aside from the screams from my own victims. I desperately hoped that it meant there were only a few of them left, and they had abandoned their sport in favor of the fight, or better yet, to flee.

  The spearman rushed forward again, thrusting three times in short succession. They were fast, brutal attacks that would have gutted me if they’d landed, but he left me plenty of room to back up each time.

  My eyes widened as I realized the pattern, and I dove aside, afar faster than I normally could thanks to the body I was wearing. I felt his spear grazing my back as I hit the snow and rolled over. I heard a solid ‘thunk’ coming less than a second later from above.

  I looked up at the spearman, watching him raise a hand to the arrow suddenly protruding from his chest. The fletching quivered just below his neck with each beat of his heart. He tapped it, as if unsure where it came from. Suddenly, blood gushed from his mouth, and he fell to his knees before finally collapsing face down in the snow just to the side of me.

  I grabbed the spear and tried to roll to the side again, barely flopping out of the way of a second arrow. The cold and minor blood loss were making me sluggish, and god knew my balls were trying to find room to hide internally.

  I struggled to my feet, hefting the spear in one hand as I ran off toward the nearest building. I knew I had to get out of the archer’s line of sight, but as I slogged through the deep snow, my left leg went out from under me suddenly and I fell. Something in my leg snapped, and the pain suddenly roared through me as I thrashed and frantically dragged myself around the nearest corner. Looking down at my leg, my breath whistled through my clenched teeth as I saw the arrow embedded in the meat of my thigh. The shaft looked to have broken when I rolled over, leaving a wicked barbed head protruding an inch from the front of my leg, with a short, broken bit still jammed out of the back.

  I was lucky it’d missed the bone and gone straight through, but it still hurt like hell. My new spear rested peacefully in the snow, right out in the open a few feet out from where I laid shivering. I actually contemplated going for it, but instinctively knew that the archer would be waiting for me to try. Instead, I began to crawl along the side of the building, hearing sobbing from inside, and realized at least some victims of this assault were still alive. ‘I have to get to them, I have to defend them.’ It repeats over and over in my mind like a mantra. It’s all that I can do to keep from passing out from the pain, but I can’t turn my back on them. If I did, who would they have left? ‘No,’ I told myself though gritted teeth, ‘I can do this, I can make it…’

  I dragged myself as fast as I could, and I had almost reached the corner of the building, when a second arrow hit me. The sharp metal head punched through my back to tear the skin on my chest, piercing my lung entirely through and wedging between my ribs. I coughed blood and fell forward onto my face, feeling myself going into shock.

  Time seemed to stretch out, my heart thudding in my ears, my breath coming in shorter and shorter pants as I tried to make sense of what had happened as I sprawled with my face turned to the side in the snow. Dancing flames illuminated the area and cast shadows. I almost lost myself to the beauty of the patterns, but a rough h
and grabbed me and turned me over, throwing me onto my back.

  “Yessik! Vatuch qe morra!” Someone screamed the words at me, the language harsh and guttural, as they backed a few feet away. I blinked in confusion, focusing in on the man’s lips as he continued to shout, but the words made no sense to me. His lips were strange, I decided, one side dragging as he snarled at me. I focused on a thin scar running across the side of his head as I blinked, trying to bring the world back into focus. I looked up at the rage-contorted face of a boy barely out of his teens. He was big; huge, by most people’s standards, but the terror and rage I saw in his eyes told me that he was most likely the last of them.

  I saw movement behind him and frantically tried to stop myself from looking in that direction. I coughed and spat blood onto my chin before gesturing to him to come closer. He drew back on his bow and fired another arrow at me, which slammed into my right leg and pinned it to the ground with the impact.

  I gritted my teeth and grunted, the pain making its presence clear as I forced myself to grin up at him, gesturing again. He edged closer, sighting down his arrow and shouting something at me. He probably wanted to know what I wanted, who I was and why I attacked them, or just what had been happening on ‘Love Island,’ for all I knew.

  I grinned wider at him, then lifted my shaking left hand to point behind me, diverting his attention for another few precious seconds. When he looked back down at me, I shook my manhood at him with deliberate slowness while simultaneously giving him the finger with my other hand, wheezing and sputtering out a laugh.

  His face went red with rage, as such a blatant act of disrespect and contempt crossed the multiverse to make itself clear, and he drew the arrow back further. He opened his mouth to shout something… and the girl that had been creeping up on him slammed a wooden club down on his head, knocking him senseless. He staggered forward, falling to his knees over me, then tipped to the side. Before he could recover, I grabbed the arrowhead protruding from my left leg and ripped it free. With a ragged scream, I drove it into his throat, a wash of hot blood spurting out as I cut deep into an artery before puncturing his windpipe.