by Jarod Meyer
She held it looking up at him from the ground, her lip split open. “I have nothing now!” she cried.
“The little bastards turned on me. They deserved what they got. Now take me to see your master, or the same will happen to you,” William bellowed trying to get to his knees.
She looked at him with disbelief. “They let you into Archonia?” she asked, shaking her head. Then got up, and ran into her hut, slamming the door.
William knelt there his face twisted in a grimace which pained him greatly. His eye still burned he prayed that he could heal his vision. He had only just begun to regain movement from the battle which had rendered him nearly crippled with wounds. He had faced down a full blooded Dichonian along with a few hundred lesser demons. It was a miracle that he was still alive.
He limped into Tamara’s hut, seeking shelter and relief from the cold. He gently opened the door to find she was curled in her chair with a single tear streaming down her wild face. William fell against the wall of the hut once he got near enough to the fireplace and slid down to his rear. A robust fire crackled in the fireplace. Neither spoke for a long while, the tension in the room growing between them. William couldn’t stand it.
“Didn’t think you were the type for crying,” William said.
“You have taken everything from me, William of Archonia,” she said, softly, not looking away from the flames.
He realized that he couldn’t argue this point, so he averted his eyes to hide his guilt. The cracking and popping of the fire was the only sound for many minutes. He shifted, moving closer to the fire. The heat was nourishing, but he found the fire’s odor unpleasant.
“I’m sorry, Tamara, I lost everything too when I came here,” William said.
She didn’t respond.
“I lost the woman I love, left my friends. I am an outlaw to the realm, and my life is likely forfeit.”
Still nothing.
“I know that doesn’t justify me destroying everything you had here, but I had to defend myself. Look at me!” he said, pointing to the thick scar covering his eye.
“I saw you, fool. And I know. I am angrier with myself for agreeing to help Achilles,” she replied finally.
“What you built here was impressive. But it was awful compared to what awaits you in Archonia,” he offered.
“Defeating Hanon…and all those demons, was impressive. I’m starting to believe that you might keep your promise,” she said.
“I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”
She gave him a closed lip smile and a slight nod of approval. Which from what little time he had spent with her, meant a lot.
Now, what can I do to make this up to you?” William asked, earnestly.
“Share my bed with me,” she responded, her eyes darting to him eagerly and then away again quickly.
William felt a flush of embarrassment. He honestly didn’t know how to react. Is this the same woman I just hit a minute ago? When he didn’t reply she got up from her chair, closed the grate to the fire, and rushed over to her bed, disappearing under the furs. The floor was uncomfortably hard, and his body ached. The bed, however, looked amazingly soft. Thick furs were piled up three feet high over a sturdy wooden frame. The pain was reminded him of the battle. He had not been far from death. How lucky would he be the next time, or the time after that? How long did he have?
He thought of Tamara. She probably hadn’t had any human touch in a very long time, living in this frozen wasteland of death and destruction. Angelica left him, Katrina was thousands of miles away, and he probably wouldn’t be seeing either of them ever again.
Eventually the thought of a soft bed with a warm body in it was too tempting.
He groaned as he got up. He was already in much better shape than he had been after the battle, but his body still hurt. The energy had burned away the filth.
His armor disappeared, fading slowly into grey light. The chill hit him, and he quickly slipped under the pile of furs. Warmth greeted him, radiating from Tamara’s body. They laid there for a time, Tamara seemingly content with the company. William pressed against her, and she eased into him. Her backside pressed against his loins and he couldn’t hide his arousal. She began to churn her hips slowly and ground her hind end into him harder.
She felt warm and inviting. He couldn’t stop it. He reached over her and slid a hand under her furs. She half-turned and slid a hand down his stomach, before grabbing his manhood. He pulled her close and tried to kiss her, but she wiggled away and took off her clothing.
She wrenched on top of him, his throbbing member sliding inside her. William groaned as she gyrated in ecstasy, leaning against his chest. Her long fingernails dug into his flesh, and he winced in pain, but didn’t stop her.
The bed began to shake and creak in protest, their bodies sliding and driving together like a fierce, erotic machine. Tamara moaned loudly with each driving thrust of their bodies as they rolled and writhed around atop the pile of furs.
They collapsed apart some time later, her panting for breath and covered in sweat and William a bloody mess from her fingernails. He could feel painful throbbing where she bit his neck. He breathed deeply trying to catch his breath.
Rolling over onto one elbow, William met her gaze and studied her wild golden eyes, his gaze shifting to her deep, chocolate skin. He ran a hand gently over the curves of her breasts, and down over her hips, before collapsing beside her. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close.
***
Hours later William found himself trudging alone a desolate road teeth chattering as the cold gripped him, and he silently wished he’d never left Tamara’s home and her warm furs.
Yes, you should have stayed in bed.
He cast his eyes around the frozen plains. They were barren, and like Archonia were mostly flat. He could see mighty mountain ranges surrounding the land, just like Archonia. They rose up like a wall between, separating this world and oblivion. They had been travelling since early morning according to Tamara, though William didn’t know how she had any sense of time in this bleak place with no definitive sun to guide them.
“It feels like we are getting nowhere. Is there anything to look at that isn’t dying?” William asked as Tamara trudged on past him.
“Quit complaining. The less there is to see, the better. When the terrain becomes more treacherous, with caves and fissures…well, that is where things lurk in wait.”
After a while longer they came upon a heavily wooded area. It was thick with brambles larger around than his body with thorns the size of William’s sword. Twisted trees clattered and groaned in the wind. Everything was black, brown, or gray. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen even the faintest hint of green. As they entered the wood the air changed. It felt damp and stank of rot, like a long-dead corpse after the maggots had set in. He knew the smell, but had not experienced it in a very long time. He stifled a gag.
William spotted large insect-like beasts slithering through the shrubs all around him. The woods quickly unnerved him, but Tamara trekked on so he followed.
“Any of this stuff dangerous?” William asked.
“Everything. As a general rule it is best not to touch anything.”
It was difficult to accomplish, but he avoided the thorns and shriveled plants as best he could.
The eerie silence was suddenly split by a noise that sounded strangely like a the voice of a young girl crying out. Tamara continued on for a few steps, until turning and noticing that he had stopped.
“What are you…” she started to ask, but William cut her off with a look, a gesture?
He listened intently, and heard the strange noise again. This time it was clearer. It was a girl sobbing.
Without any delay, William sprang into action. Gungnir cut through the brush to their left and carved him a path.
“Do not leave the path!” Tamara shouted, but her voice was already fading behind him, as he charged through the dark forest. In moments he found the sou
rce of the noise.
His ears had been right. It was a young girl. She was sitting all alone in a small clearing on the stump of a tree. Her long, straight black hair shone brightly in the little glade, glistening as if it were wet. She wore only a simple, black gown. William’s gaze swept around the clearing, confirming they were alone. He reached out with his energy, but felt nothing but the cold trees.
“Are you alright?” William asked, still more than a little wary.
The girl sobbed louder, the sound echoing off of the trees.
“What is the matter?” William asked again, a little more loudly. Yet, he still received no response except long wailing sobs.
William sighed, and walked closer. When he got to within a few paces, she spoke.
“They were so mean. They were horrible,” she said in a far off voice.
“Who?” William asked, looking around again.
“The other kids, they made fun of me and called me names. They hit me, and threw things at me every day,” the girl said, her voice still far off and distorted.
William’s mind filled with memories of his own childhood. The kids at the orphanage where he grew up they were horrible to him, mostly because he was small. They called him terrible names also.
“It is okay. They can’t hurt you,” William assured her. Then the girl looked up. She didn’t have any pupils or color to her eyes at all, even so William felt them scouring his face.
“I made sure they couldn’t hurt me anymore, I wouldn’t let them. I hurt myself instead,” she replied.
More images clouded his vision like a waking dream. He was back in his father’s house, alone, no one to feed him, provide discipline, or keep him safe. He held the razor to his skin and felt it bite.
He choked on the memory, but fought it and pushed it away. Looking down, he saw that his gloves and armor were gone. He saw the scars on his forearms and wrists from that incident, tracing their way across his skin. They had not been there since arriving in Archonia.
Before William knew it he was on his knees, tears streaming down his face. The girl in black stood over him.
“You look like them, the horrible ones that made me hurt myself,” she whispered.
William’s mind was fuzzy, as more horrific feelings and scenes flooded through him. That horrible hollowness that had pushed him commit suicide overtook his mind.
“You should hurt yourself, so that you don’t feel any more pain,” the girl said, her voice echoing in the back of his mind.
Without even realizing it, he drew his sword. He put it hilt down in the dirt with the point towards his body. He cried out in agony as it found its way through his armor, piercing his flesh. The blade scraped against his ribs, the cold steel sliding inside him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
VANITY
Tamara wasn’t nearly as fast as her new companion. Fortunately, he had blown a path straight through the dense foliage, which made it easier for her to follow. She moved quickly through the bush, keeping a wary eye for the dangers lurking in the deep darkness.
The tree line ended abruptly and she found herself in a glade, where even the nastiest of the twisted trees and thorny bushes seemed to bend away from the area, as if they were trying to escape something. A horrific scene unfolded in front of her. A tall and skinny, decrepit looking demon stood over William, who was on his knees. A crimson mist hung in the air over his back as he leaned over something. She crept slowly closer, discovering in horror that he had been run through with his own blade.
William laid waste to two hundred demons and a patriarch with relative ease. How was it that he had been so easily defeated? However she was aware of the ancient powers that lay in wait in this place. This chivalrous act ended in a hard learned lesson. She watched William slump towards the ground, the steel through his chest. Should she help him? Achilles could always send a stronger warrior to aid her.
He couldn’t, however, replace all of the underlings that William destroyed. In the end, he might be her best bet at getting out of this hell.
In her hesitancy the creature spotted her. Now it didn’t matter if she helped him or not. She would need to defend herself. Her most horrible memories flooded into her mind. But unlike others, such memories didn’t hold any power over her. After all, she lived them almost every night in her dreams.
With three strides she was behind the creature, her spear sliding around its throat. With a twist, bone snapped, and the demon’s body went limp. Such mind invaders never put up much of a fight, as they were used to completely dominating their prey.
She tossed the body aside to tend to William, and without much care she tried to kick him over. His body refused to move, as if his sword was stuck in the ground.
But it is blade up?
She put a shoulder underneath him, and hoisted him up over the blade. When his body passed the point of the blade the sword fell to the ground, thudding with surprising force. Thick, sticky blood sputtered from his chest as she sat him down. Good, his heart was still beating.
Tough son of a reaper, aren’t you.
Tamara had no means of healing the Archonian. She couldn’t project her energy like he could. If he was to stand any chance, it would have to be up to him. And yet, his mind had shut down, overwhelmed by the mind invader’s trick.
She frantically tried to shake him awake. When that didn’t work, she reached into her satchel and dug around for a moment, before finding a sticky, globular sac. It was a stink sac from a Tera-spawn. She had learned long ago why the Tera-spawn did not tear one another to pieces like the lesser demons. They recognized each other by their putrid smell. She’d learned to extract the fluid, to repel the smaller Wyrms from her village. Wyrms were vulnerable to swarms of the Tera-spawn, whose near constant hunger drove them to hunt relentlessly.
She squeezed the sac and a mist issued forth, peppering William’s face. After a few moments he coughed, but his eyes didn’t open. His breath was weakening, and she didn’t know what else she could do to save him.
Noise, smell. What else can I possibly…
“Aaaargh,” William sputtered, spitting blood from his mouth. His teeth were stained red.
Almost immediately she saw his energy seep into the hole, and the flesh slowly begin to mend together. As she looked she saw his heart beating inside of the cavity in his chest. It was straining and pumping irregularly. He would not be able to repair his body fast enough. His eyes begin to roll into the back of his head again.
Without hesitation, she plunged her hand into the wound and gripped the squishy organ. She massaged it with a gentle, steady rhythm. William’s eyes flashed open. He growled horribly, his jaw clenching so hard she thought his teeth might break.
***
William’s mind screamed with each, laboring beat of his heart. He was vaguely aware of an arm protruding from his chest and followed it to Tamara’s, who knelt over him with unemotional eyes.
He couldn’t feel his arms or his legs. Frantic thoughts flood his mind.
Will I be able to heal this? Will I be able to walk again?
Every minute seemed like an hour of sheer torture. When his mind cleared enough to think his first thought was of the pain he experienced at the Griege Forge when he had forged his armor. He was sure then that it was the worst pain imaginable. Now he was not so sure.
Sweat slid down his face and into his eyes. A tingle of feeling returned to his fingertips, and he struggled with all his might to wipe it away.
“Lay still, you fool. Focus on the chest wound,” Tamara said, although her voice seemed faint.
His fingers began to move and then his arms slowly slid around the ground at his sides. Feeling flooded back into his legs and they flexed automatically trying along with the rest of his body to deal with the pain. Like a baby trying to use his arms for the first time it took him a moment for his hands to find his own chest.
He found Tamara’s arm and slowly pulled her hand out of his chest. She didn’t stop him, and when her
hand pulled free he felt the cold air rush inside. Energy poured out of his fingertips, showering the wound directly.
William’s convulsing gradually stopped and soon he was in a state of blissful stillness. The sweat pooled in the corners of his eyes, and when he winced he felt Tamara’s cool hand gently wipe them away.
“Thank… Thank you… Tamara.”
“Mm Hmm.”
“What was that thing?” William asked.
“It was one of the forsaken, most likely a mind invader. Like the ones I warned you about,” she said. “How did she get your sword away from you?” Tamara asked.
William shook his head, and looked up, still wincing in pain.
“I did this. I stabbed myself. She made me feel horrible. Like I was all alone, and the only way out was to,” he said, but didn’t finish.
“That was Suicide?” Tamara said, looking over at the corpse. “I have heard of her. Supposedly no one that has looked into her eyes has ever escaped. She preys on the weak.”
“She never actually killed herself on Earth?” William asked.
“Do not be silly, William. Most of the people who take their own lives on Earth are not bad people. They have just had bad things happen to them. Evil creatures like this one are mostly responsible for people killing themselves.
“I was bullied a lot on Earth. I tried to kill myself once before,” William said.
“Then you know why I am angry with you. Those who have power rarely use it for good. Your bullies, as you say, were they more powerful than you?” she asked.
William nodded, “Yeah at the time.”
“And now you have great power, and you use it,” she said.
He nodded again but didn’t say anything.
“Be sure that you use it for the right purposes,” she added.
William sat there chest still throbbing, pondering his life for the rest of the hour. Men with power always want more, and they use their power to make themselves feel better. There were many bullies on Earth that drove kids to commit suicide or mass murder. They snapped like William had earlier that day, and said enough is enough. He thought about the piles of demons that lay in Tamara’s village. Was he the bully or the victim?