by Jeff Gunzel
A solid slash cut deep into her side. She cried out while a second sent one of her blades flying from her grip. She dropped down to her knees, her blood flowing from multiple wounds. She looked up as the assassins took their time flanking her once more. They had seen her undeniable skill, and were not going to take any chances, no matter how wounded she appeared. But a sudden disturbance in the sky stopped both in their tracks, making them gaze upward.
A golden line appeared brightly in the night sky for a moment, forcing many heads to abruptly gaze up at the strange sight. The line elongated as the rip in time hung in the air for several seconds. Golden sparks suddenly exploded through the sky as Eric and his flying beast burst through the rift. A high-pitched screech filled the air, echoing through the streets. Attackers and villagers alike scampered about, driven by fear of the awesome sight. A long, comet-like tail of flickering red light and black smoke traced a line behind him as his blazing sword begged for blood and pleaded to be fed, a request Eric was more than willing to grant.
It didn’t take long for him to spot Jade down on her knees and clearly wounded. The two assailants began to run as he turned his beast in a sweeping circle and headed straight for them. There was plenty of killing to go around, but the two who had dared to put a hand on Jade needed to die first. Riding hard through the air, he streaked over the top of her while bearing down on the fleeing assassins. The one Jade had wounded earlier was quickly losing ground to the other. A sharp explosion of pain surged through his instantly broken body as razor-sharp talons tore through his back and deep into his lungs. In that fleeting moment, Eric’s only regret was that the man died too quickly. He longed to kill him...again.
He rode the beast hard, gliding only a few feet off the ground, his flaming sword begging for the fleeing man’s blood as they bore down on him. His beast was set to sink in his claws into the next fleeing victim, but Eric had other ideas. At the last second he jumped off the lizard’s back, landing squarely on top of the terrified killer, a killer whose training had never prepared him for such a thing. Eric kept all his weight on the man’s back, pinning him down with his face pressed hard into the dirt.
His flaming blade seemed to scream...to beg...it wanted to taste the man’s flesh, but Eric dropped it to the ground, watching the flames extinguish instantly. With seething anger coursing through his veins, he gripped the man’s hair right through the back of his green mask and slammed his face hard into the ground. He hammered it down over and over again as teeth and blood began to spread out across the dirt road. He continued, hearing the crunching sounds of broken teeth and a newly shattered jaw.
He finally stopped, still holding the man’s head a few inches from the ground. The badly broken man was still breathing in shallow rasps, but that wouldn’t last much longer. Eric knew the man probably had minutes to live after the savage beating, and that simply wasn’t good enough. He slid the remaining katana from the assassin’s back. “Is this the blade?” he whispered in a shockingly calm voice. “Is this the blade you used to hurt her?” Of course, the broken man couldn’t speak, but Eric patiently waited for an answer anyway. “Then the taste of this blade, as well as the sound of my voice, will be the last things you experience in this world.”
He slowly pushed it into the side of the man’s neck, stopping every quarter inch to give a slight twist before continuing on. He was in no rush. When the last gurgling breath mercifully left the man’s body, Eric found he was only partially satisfied.
****
Jacob stumbled through the street, jumping over bodies and zigzagging between fleeing townsfolk. All the while, the taunting calls from Zhou were getting closer and closer. His eyes scanned the terrain while trying to maintain as much speed as possible. He could actually hear the hard galloping of heavy steps fast approaching now. His eyes finally fell on what he had been searching for, but he needed to be quick. He lunged forward as a clawed hand swiped the back of his shirt, leaving three neat slashes, and completed a dive roll over the top of a fallen fighter. He got to his feet and whirled around at the last moment, just barely intercepting a second set of claws with his newly acquired staff. With lightning speed he struck high once, twice, then a third time at the large, hairy ears of his attacker, forcing Zhou to stumble backward, if only momentarily. A second barrage of blazing strikes found their way across both his foe’s knees, followed by a groin shot, then an upper cut.
The enraged beast stumbled back yet again, surprised by the mortal’s speedy attacks, but the powerful beast recovered quickly and lunged forward in a blind rage. His open claws slashed down hard, turning the solid wooden staff into a shower of splinters as Jacob held it up defensively. He fired back upward with the speed of a snake, the back of his fist catching Jacob squarely in the side of the head, sending him sliding ten feet. Jacob tried to cling to consciousness as his blurred vision revealed two of the monsters vibrating in and out of each other. He inched away on the back of his elbows as pain surged through every inch of him. Zhou now towered over him, wearing a grin that promised a slow death.
Ching...Ching...Ching...Ching
The sound of clanging metal approaching at an alarming speed forced both to look off in that direction. Zhou had just gotten his head turned when Athel drove hard into his chest with a hollow thud, sending both of them rolling across the dirt. They tumbled along the road while swinging wildly at one another. Athel jumped back to her feet. Bent links of chain still hung from her neck and wrists as she dropped low on all fours and growled like an animal before lunging at him again.
The sickening meaty smacks rang out as they pummeled each other in a blinding flurry of fists. The savage animals flailed away at each other with power and speed no humans could ever match, but the much bigger Zhou slowly began to land the harder shots. Athel started to slow, her knees touching the ground more than once as his heavy fists savagely pummeled her face over and over.
Feeling her beginning to weaken, he rushed in close, wrapping her in a bear hug, then slammed her to the ground with a thud. With the much bigger man on top, there was little she could do. He dropped his fist down into her face several more times, each hollow thud sounding like a watermelon being dropped from a rooftop. Her right eye closed almost immediately, and deep cuts formed all over her face as the beating continued.
Zhou raised his hand up high once more with the intent of ending this, his razor-sharp claws fully extended out this time, but his eyes suddenly widened as he gazed down the street. With her one good eye, Athel was able to see spots of golden light reflect off his chest and twinkle in his eyes. He used the very hand he was going to gut her with to quickly push off and get back to his feet, then slowly back away with a look of fear in his eyes.
Eric didn’t utter a single word as he approached, his blazing sword working slow circles around him while leaving a lingering red trail. He wasn’t sneaking or showing any caution whatsoever, just methodically stalking an inferior prey. His curly hair was matted down with sweat, hiding his eyes but not their golden glow. His teeth were exposed in a permanent snarl as he walked straight for his foe, not showing the least bit of respect for this animal’s abilities.
A low, rumbling sound signaled the approach of yet more of the rolling monstrosities from around the corner. Zhou smiled as he raised his hand, then pointed right at Eric without ever turning around. The two remaining balls of death began to roll towards him as Zhou broke off down an opposite alley, silently relived not to have to engage this unnatural being.
The creatures began to pick up speed as Eric kept walking right towards them, wearing the same dark smile. His blazing sword continued to dance around him before he suddenly broke into a full sprint, as if intending to run right through them. At the last second before colliding with them, he disappeared into the golden portal that flashed open then snapped shut the second he entered.
The boachards rolled right through the remaining yellow sparks, then slowed down. They each rose up into their towering forms, looking around
in confusion. Then the same streak of golden light opened right behind them, and Eric casually stepped through. He was in no hurry, and didn’t care if they saw him or not. They turned quickly with their segmented staffs in hand, but the end came so fast they never even had time to react.
Eric’s flaming blade was a blur. The screeching sound of shredding steel rang its shrill, high-pitched song into the air. He slashed through each of the monsters multiple times as he performed six different forms in under three seconds, all with the speed of a viper. In one clean motion, he sent the whirling blade back into its sheath and turned away, never even bothering to look back. The bug-like creatures didn’t move at all...at first. Then an arm hit the ground...another arm...a head...part of a torso... They each crumbled into pieces, now lying in a pool of blue liquid.
Jacob had crawled to Athel’s side and was holding her head in his lap.
“Is she all right?” Eric asked. The golden light had fled from his eyes. In a heartbeat, he had become himself once more.
Jacob smiled as he always did when he had just escaped death’s grasp. He looked back down at Athel as she smiled back up at him. Her wounds appeared to be healing right before his eyes. “Yeah, we’re fine. You’re lucky I was here, you know. I don’t know how you would ever get by without me.”
Eric just shook his head and embraced his friend. “Agreed, brother. I have no idea what I would do without you.” Athel slowly got to her feet and joined in the group hug. She was pretty banged up, but still able to move around on her own.
Jacob nodded towards the sunrise. “You’ve done it. You made it. Tell me, do you feel like yourself? Or do you have the urge to eat me?”
Athel smiled through her battered face and threw her arms over his shoulders. “Not a day goes by when I don’t have the urge to bite you.” Whether or not it was seeing her good friend in trouble, or just through willpower alone, she had managed to keep her thoughts intact.
Eric’s smile only lasted a second before he suddenly began running towards the limping movement he saw from the corner of his eye. He held Jade firmly, and quickly wrapped one of her arms over his shoulder. “I heard you,” he said in her ear. “I knew you were alive, and it gave me strength. I’m never going to leave you again.”
In a weak voice, she said, “I owe this girl everything. I couldn’t have done it without her.” She nodded behind her as Nima came walking up.
Nima looked around with a deep sadness in her eyes. The bodies of men and women she had known for years lay in the street. Homes had been crushed into nothing. She sighed and took a deep breath. “No doubt, you all want answers as to who they were and why they came here.” She sighed once more. “Come, all of you. It’s time you met Kelus.”
Reborn
Prologue
Screams of never-ending pain echoed through the endless blackness, blood-curdling screeches born of pure agony blending into an endless symphony of suffering and torture. It was an unrelenting agony that remained a constant, no matter how many days, years, or centuries passed by, that those trapped in this prison of pain of which no one ever escaped had to endure.
The astral forms of both men and demon alike tumbled through the darkness, urgently flailing away at their bodies in a futile attempt to extinguish the searing flames engulfing them, urgently trying to stop their involuntary breathing, filling their lungs with fire and acid, all the while praying for merciful death that would never come.
Their astral forms proved to be the perfect vessels for the never-ending explosion of suffering. Though not quite flesh nor spirit either, their forms could feel each scorching blister as it pulsed with boiling liquid then burst into steam before instantly reforming, only to repeat the process again and again. Flesh burned away while new skin quickly graphed itself over exposed white bone. The regeneration meant little, considering the newly created flesh would only remain a second or two before it charred and floated away in a sticky cloud of black ash.
There was simply nowhere to run. Burning alive in one spot was just as torturous as in another, but run they did, flailing about as scorched arms and legs thrashed chaotically through the nothingness. The violent, desperate swimming motions gave the doomed beings a temporary sense of purpose, as if they could somehow writhe their way through the celestial prison where the rules of both general physics and time itself had been rewritten by forces unseen. But there was nowhere to go, and no end to the constant suffering that would be their only companion through many unnatural lifetimes.
Ignoring the screams echoing from every direction, the massive creature lethargically placed one hoofed limb in front of the other as it moved through the blackness. The simple movements of walking were no more than distant memories taking over as he smoothly drifted along, old instincts that served no purpose in this poisonous hell. His muscular black legs were as thick as oak trees. They pumped along through the darkness, all the while pushing against a mockery of air.
Regardless of how the broken physics worked in this hell, Krytoes was still able to move as tortured souls cried out in the scalding atmosphere. No, Krytoes was not immune to the pain as his black, leathery scales burned away over and over again. The demon felt every inch of his long, spidery fingers as they flickered with blue and orange flame, then charred into black and white ash only to grow back, then meet the same fate once more.
But his eternal calm and composure had nothing to do with tolerance, nothing to do with years of being burned alive and breathing toxic gases, only to never find the blessed relief of eternal sleep, the final peace only the blackness of true death could ever bring. None of this mattered to the powerful demigod, for the truth was far simpler. He relished the euphoric torment. Only in a mind this twisted and broken could explosions of agony shooting through one’s body be compared to the essence of life. He felt an intoxicating bliss that rattled his senses with each violent burst of fire, a wondrous joy he had shared with countless beings through his many lifetimes, too numerous to count. His final emotion while watching their faces contort in anguish was always the same: jealousy.
Being trapped in this hellish dimension was nearly a blessing. He could never have designed a more perfect place to call home, but his shared paradise did little to mask the reality that he was still a prisoner here—a fact not easily ignored, but a simple truth limited only to time. Nothing lasts forever, as was evident by the ever-changing universe. Energy is never really lost, nor is it created from nothing; it merely shifts from one form to another.
Even through the distracting ecstasy coursing through his thick, scaly body, Krytoes could still sense a shifting power from beyond the barrier of his temporary prison. The prison felt more and more fragile with each passing year, as if its very energy were being drawn away toward some unseen force. There was little doubt Krytoes could not be held here for much longer, but why did that even matter? What reason could there possibly be to ever leave this blackened utopia that brought the being nothing but pleasure?
However, the answer to his fleeting question was found easily enough as the conscious thoughts of unsuspecting humans coursed through his mind. Reaching out to the world of men, he could feel each individual piece of meat wandering through their pathetic lives, the illusion of control imprinted on each thought as the simple creatures lived from day to day. This ability to clearly feel the feeble insects had only come to life recently, and the more he concentrated on it, the more they enraged him.
The piteous beings hadn’t the slightest understanding of what true fear really was. They falsely believed their pitiful existence was a right, never understanding how frail and delicate life really was. To them, this right had somehow been earned by doing absolutely nothing, then sealed in arrogance by contributing even less. How dare they look to fancied deities and mythical fables of a higher power to justify the gift of life that had been given? Although the myths of a higher power were at least partially true, the perfect image of peace and love that could only be conjured through minds as simple and pr
imitive as humans was certainly not the reality.
They would all learn soon enough that the gift of life was not a thing to taken for granted; that the only thing they truly feared would soon be considered the greatest gift imaginable. Death would become the only possible release from the pain and suffering they would feel when the time finally came. They believed death would be a blissful, eternal sleep that would signify the end of the suffering that Krytoes would deliver, but it was a peaceful end he simply couldn’t allow.
Even though he longed to unleash his gifts of agony and pain, a single sliver of apprehension haunted the beast, one he could neither explain nor ignore. These humans were nothing more than insects, simple creatures that would provide him with endless joys—novelties existing only for his amusement, yet there still seemed to be one amongst them...
There existed a single human whose thoughts he couldn’t penetrate. One who effortlessly defended against his mental intrusions and seemed to defy the very laws of nature; one whom Krytoes had known for centuries would someday be born into the world of men, existing only to deny him the joys he had more than earned. Not that he held any fear for the puny mortal, no matter how extraordinary this perversion of nature might be. It was nothing more than a harmless fly; a tiny pebble placed in his path to either be kicked aside or stepped over, but nothing that could ever threaten his ascendance.
Yet, despite the demon’s yearning to begin his dark game of justice, to share the sensations he had experienced for centuries now, an odd tingling tugged at the back of his twisted mind. He felt an unexplainable trepidation which forced the fearless being to hesitate, if only for a moment. Sure, this mutation had somehow defeated Dragot. In fact, it seemed the half-demon had been completely overmatched…but no matter. Of course the abomination would fall to his knees like any other mortal. An insect with a stinger was still an insect, after all, and Krytoes was sure the freak would certainly prove to be no more dangerous than one.