Blood and Madness

by Michael Clement

  Flee.

  My whole body became tense, as I began to shake and sweat. The urge to panic and run began to overwhelm my thoughts, making my left knee twitch. I was so close to completely panicking.

  Change.

  I needed to change back to stone, so I could fight the creature. Opening my mouth, only a timid whimper whispered out of my lips.

  Twisting and turning, I fought to speak the words that would activate the spell… but the woman’s mind held my mouth shut.

  Dammit.

  It was a female.

  Now that I knew that, I could smell the difference in the dark musky scent. It was a woman, but impossibly different from any other female that I had met. Shit, she had to be at least ten feet tall, and wide, like a brick shithouse.

  Taesa’s hand slipped into mine as she pressed against me. I could feel the zombie shivering with terror against my arm. Usually, holding a man’s hand would make me feel uncomfortable. But, I decided to accept any support, since a monster was snuffling around my mind.

  The creature stumbled forward, growling low in its throat.

  It was a Malignant Lady of the Unclean.

  Fuck.

  We were so screwed. What was a Lady of the Infected doing here?

  In the flickering light, I could now see the black scales that covered her skin. She had dark hair that spilled down her back like an ebony lion’s mane. Golden eyes glared at us in terrible pain.

  Massive gaping wounds covered her right shoulder. The monster’s right arm was barely hanging on. Her scales were ripped away, exposing pink, raw, bloody meat to the air. The left side of her face was mangled and torn as well.

  An intricate handwoven red skirt hung low around her ample hips. The Lady was massive, like a mountain. Thick, corded muscles covered her skin and her ribbed stomach. The black hair on her head covered her legs as well, making her look almost like the fabled Minotaur of legend.

  She wasn’t wearing anything on her upper body. Her left breast was torn and gushing dark purple infected blood. Hell, it was almost torn loose.

  I could feel her torment. It radiated out of the monster in waves, clawing at the insides of my mind. She wanted us to run so she could feed on our fear. The Unclean was grievously injured.

  In her left hand was a thick chain with a broken collar hanging limply. I could see bits of fur and blood covering it.

  Something had escaped the creature.

  “Run…” she whispered through jaws that could cut through steel. Her teeth were a shocking ivory, like pale bones uncovered and left to sharpen in the wind.

  Taesa slipped behind me.

  She was going to make a break for it. I could feel her terror pounding through our mental link. Either I acted now, or my lover would do exactly what the demon wanted.

  And… become her prey.

  - 3 -

  “I can heal you.”

  The words seemed to come from outside of my body.

  But, it was me talking.

  Gruff, metallic laughter rasped out of the creature’s mouth.

  Taesa shifted to run. Reaching back, I grabbed her wrist and hissed. “Stay put.”

  Her mind immediately began thrashing against the constraints put upon it by the Taming spell that I had cast upon her. She wanted to run, and my words bound her like the chain in the demon’s hand.

  I took a step forward.

  The creature growled at me and shook the chains, making the sound echo off of the wreckage that she was leaning against.

  But, the Demon didn’t attack me.

  So, I took another step forward.

  “Healing… for free passage,” I murmured, as I slowly raised my hands to show her that I wasn’t holding a weapon.

  I took another step, and then another.

  Taesa hadn’t moved. But, her mind was shrieking in terror. I could feel the bond that controlled my lover begin to shake and quiver, as the pale witch put everything that she had into breaking my control.

  Ignoring her, I moved closer.

  The Lady smelled awful; like a wet dog who had dragged itself through mud and gore and then had baked in the sun for weeks.

  Fighting not to gag, I moved closer.

  She was massive. Her broad shoulders were twice the size of mine. Hell, her waist alone was so big that I wouldn’t be able to wrap my arms around it. Her uninjured right breast was at the level of my nose. A silver nipple ring pierced it and then wrapped around the thick piece of flesh. The ring looked like fangs, above and below the dark tit.

  Its matching ring, on her other breast, had been torn free.

  Fuck.

  That must have hurt.

  Blood gushed out of her right arm, pouring down her skin in a wet torrent. It was the dark purple of amethyst, and it sparkled in the firelight.

  Infection.

  My mind immediately pounded that thought into my soul. She was infected with the virus that changed men into monsters, and then, later, demons.

  “I can help,” I insisted. “But, I need to change to my stone skin.”

  The demon chuffed like a great cat.

  Hoping that was an affirmative, I murmured the words to transform my skin back to stone.

  “Dagaḍa Tvacā.”

  My freshly scavaged clothes ripped and tore, as I grew taller and stronger. Dark, gray stone slid over my skin, hopefully protecting it from the arcane virus that infected her blood. My ripped pants bunched around my hips. I wanted to rip them off, but then… she might get other ideas.

  Fucking one of the Unclean was a sure way to become one of them.

  My face was now at the level of her throat. And, I could see the damage to her right arm clearer. The bone was snapped and dislocated. Only her ripped and torn muscles were holding it in place. Blood was gushing out of her shoulder. If I didn’t stop the flow soon, she would bleed to death… if that was possible. She was Unclean. Almost anything was possible with Pandora’s Infection in their blood.

  My spell, Heal Imperfections, wouldn’t be able to repair damage like that. It was meant to do small things, like making a woman’s breasts grow bigger, or change the color of her hair. It wasn’t designed to heal massive amounts of damage.

  Her great horned head looked down at me. Then, I felt her mind inside of mine again.

  “You aren’t strong enough,” she murmured.

  I heard her thoughts.

  She was considering… marking me.

  Taming me.

  Making me hers…

  And infecting me.

  Oh, Fuck.

  “Sāvagot,” she decreed.

  A thick lance of power roared out of her mind and plunged into my soul, smashing my metal shields aside with ease. It punctured my last remaining free bubble of arcane power and began to crush my soul with a vise-like grip.

  Azlin.

  I heard her name thunder across my mind.

  And, I heard the command… surrender.

  I shook, as her powerful mind began to crush my feeble resistance. Mental wall after mental wall exploded and collapsed, as I fell to my knees.

  My mind and abilities were like an ant, compared to hers.

  Taesa quaked and ran to me, throwing her arms around my shoulders. Her strength added to mine gave me a few more seconds of freedom.

  “Submit,” Azlin demanded. The word thundered through my mind, knocking over everything in its path. Blood began to pour from my nose as I covered my ears with my hands.

  “No,” I groaned, as I drank in the power that Taesa was offering me.

  Then, I reached behind me and drew the machete.

  Shooting to my feet, I swung the blade with an upward cut…

  Severing Azlin’s already damaged right arm with had been hanging by a thread.

  The Unclean Sorceress screamed in pain as her arm separated from her body and crashed to the ground with a heavy thud.

  Then, I rotated the sword over my head and slammed it into her chest.

  Azlin screamed in terro
r as the wide blade sank in deeply. Her other hand came up and smashed into my head, shattering the stone armor and sending me crashing to the ground. Bits and pieces of granite rained down pelting the earth, as I ended up in a heap with Taesa underneath me.

  Shrieking in agony, Azlin turned to flee.

  But, her spell was still active.... tethering us together.

  And, her soul was in complete disarray.

  - 4 -

  I grabbed ahold of Azlin’s spell and squeezed hard. The hex wasn’t completed yet. The designation of master and the slave hadn’t been decided yet. That was the inherent danger in using a Taming spell. If the master wasn’t strong enough, they could become the slave.

  I squeezed down hard on her soul.

  Azlin screamed and stumbled, crashing into the locomotive on her right. She careened off of it, spraying lilac blood everywhere.

  I pressed against her mind, determined to take advantage of her agony. Azlin’s thoughts were utterly jumbled, twisting and turning from one wild idea to another. I could feel her heart pounding madly, as the dark purple blood gushed from her wounds.

  Screaming in a rage, I ran up behind Azlin and grabbed her hair. Then, I slammed the blade into her back. Or, at least, I tried to.

  Azlin twisted, so the machete sliced across her skin instead, slicing it open. Then, she smashed her free hand into my nose… breaking it.

  Shrieking, I dropped the machete and stumbled backward, as blood poured down my face. My eyes watered, and for a few, precious seconds, I was defenseless.

  Azlin crashed to the ground and tipped over.

  Wiping my eyes, I took a step forward, determined to claim her soul. With her power, I could save my missing lovers.

  Sensing my intentions… Azlin snapped the spell’s tether, like a fish snapping a fishing line. The harpoon tip that had punctured my sigil burst into flames. Hollering in shock, I stumbled away from her in a blind panic. Everything hurt, especially my head.

  I stumbled and fell on a pile of golden coins. Crashing to the ground, I wretched, as the spell’s backlash tormented us both. Waves of pain ruptured my thoughts, making it almost impossible to think.

  Leaning back, I whispered, “Upacāra hā viṣa,” activating the healing spells woven into my skin by Blister. Sinking into the soil, the hexes ate the ground’s life, and all the insects burrowing within it.

  Turning over, I breathed in their life, thankful for once to have survived.

  The pain in my mind subsided, as I poisoned the earth and ate its life.

  Groaning, I sat up.

  Grunting in amusement, Azlin chuffed, almost laughing. The bitch was on her hands and knees facing me.

  “Rasalgēt,” she whispered, sending magic skittering across the ground.

  Coins fluttered to my left.

  Turning, I saw her severed arm. It was slowly crawling across the ground, dragging itself back to her.

  Cold shivers of horror slid down my spine.

  How fucking powerful was she?

  Frozen in terror, I watched as the arm pulled itself across the ground, and reattached with her body with a wet, smacking noise.

  Azlin laid down on her side, facing me. Her breath was so hot that it misted in the air.

  It was time to leave. When she finished healing, Azlin would take out her pain on my flesh. I could feel her mind trying to decide how she would torture me first; rip off my legs, or tear out my eyeballs?

  It was such a hard choice.

  Scurrying to my feet, I looked for Taesa.

  I found her several feet away, watching me with terrified eyes.

  “You need me,” Azlin murmured, licking her blood-splattered lips.

  Snorting, she blew snot out of one of her nostrils. “Your bitches will all die… without me.”

  Apparently, she was taking a different path, instead of torturing me.

  Azlin still wanted to claim me. Now that her… lover had escaped, she wanted a new toy.

  I looked at the shaggy Minotaur, who was the Mistress of IronHold.

  My hands began to shake. How did I know that?

  Suddenly, in my mind, I could see red sand dunes flowing in every direction. Roads of black basalt, covered by bone-white arches… not arches… rib bones that clawed at the sky, as tall as buildings. And, the wind… that terrible thing… screamed like a living creature.

  If you were caught in the dunes, it would tear the flesh from your skin and add your bones to its collection, like it had done, thousands of times before.

  In the center of the bloody sands was the massive fortress of IronHold. It reached up into the clouds, like a dead thing that was too old and stubborn to die. Its walls and structure were carved from a single, titanic piece of rusting steel, forged ages ago. Corrosion dripped down the walls, but it was still strong, even after thousands of years.

  I fell to my knees, envisioning the lines of slaves stumbling behind massive Ogres. The line ran for hundreds of miles and was hundreds of feet thick. From the top of IronHold, it looked like a column of ants, returning to their mound.

  The crack of a whip startled me, and I heard a female slave fall and shriek in agony.

  Then, I heard the satisfied sound of it falling on her skin again.

  “You’ve seen my home,” Azlin rasped, fighting to take another breath. “When you tried to Master me; you absorbed some of my memories.”

  Laughing, she choked on her own blood and then coughed, sending up a geyser of amethyst tainted poison that seemed to almost float on the air by its own accord.

  I had seen her Infernal Desmese on the edge of Chaos itself.

  “The Lady of Foulmire is here as well…” she ground out. Her one remaining hand struggled to wipe the violet blood off of her lips.

  Another vision swamped my mind.

  Mushrooms, miles high, loomed in my thoughts. Spanish moss hung down from their boughs, covering the fungus in an almost netlike structure.

  Pterodactyls swooped through the air, searching for prey.

  And, in the distance, I heard the roar of a monster. Something vast and old with hundreds of teeth. Snakes slithered through the dark sludge at the base of the mushrooms, hissing and spitting venom. Old ruins poked out of the vegetation, along with statues of ancient nightmares.

  The air filled with the smell of old, rotting vegetation… and death. Beneath the mushrooms were bones sticking up between the roots. The plants had lured sentient creatures into its jaws for centuries.

  Foulmire was one of the first of the Demonic Domains of the Malignant to be founded, after the Schism of Bones.

  “Alagossa Felmorna is here,” Azlin wheezed. “She has taken your women.”

  Grunting, Azlin added, “The Lady of the Plants will sacrifice…”

  Azlin gasped… and then stopped breathing.

  - 5 -

  Son-of-a-bitch.

  I rushed over to her blood-splattered body. Her eyes were staring up at nothing, unblinking. With a shudder, her body let out a ragged, death rattle, and then laid still.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck!

  Azlin knew something about the train derailing and the giant cicadas that took my lovers. I needed to save her, so I could find out how to fight the Lady of Plants successfully.

  Her Taming spell had failed after she had broken it herself. The Lady of IronHold was too powerful for me to Tame when she was alive.

  But, now she was dead.

  Screwing up my courage, I cast my own Taming spell. It lashed into Azlin’s defenseless mind. I had three to ten minutes to succeed. After that, if she survived, she would have brain damage or worse.

  Her mind was still active but frantic. Azlin knew that her body had perished. A mental image of Azlin was screaming in torment, as she tried, and failed to escape her mind.

  Usually, she would just slip into one of her familiar’s skins if her body was injured. I could see hundreds of arcane bubbles, maybe thousands. Scores of them had golden threads that sh
ould have connected her to her tamed slaves.

  But, something had sliced and ripped them away.