“Get her, Blog,” she said.
Alina screamed, “Stay away from me, monster,” and flailed at his face and chest.
He continued to laugh while clutching both of her wrists with one hand. As he lifted her from the ground, she kicked his groin, but her foot screamed out in pain when it struck his metal skin.
“Quit playing with her, Blog,” Cyn said. He dropped her with a thud. Cyn tangled her bony, cold fingers into Alina’s hair and yanked her head backward. Alina thrashed with what little strength she had left as Cyn dragged her to the gate.
“You pull her, Blog,” Cyn said, dropping her head against the dirt floor. “You’re the muscles.”
Blog’s hand replaced Cyn’s and he yanked the Princess up the narrow, winding stairwell. Cyn followed, just out of kicking range.
They entered a well-lit room that shocked and hurt Alina’s weakened eyes. Blog grabbed her beneath her armpits and body-slammed her onto a table. The impact momentarily stunned her. He held one of her hands down while she clawed at his face with her other. Cyn tied her wrist to the table with some kind of pliable metal band. Alina tugged against it but it dug into her wrists until she couldn’t stand the pain. She tried to kick him while he tied down her other arm but her attempts were worthless. He finished by holding her legs while Cyn cinched restraints on them as well. Through her scant clothing the table was hard and cold like ice against her back.
Their leader, Scorne, appeared at her head. “Hi, P-p-p-princess,” he hissed. “Are you in for a s-s-s-s-urprise tonight.”
“Please,” she begged. “Let me go. I will give you anything you want.”
“What could you possibly offer me that my current employer could not?”
“I am to be Queen, future ruler of the free world. I have unlimited resources, riches beyond your dreams.”
“Used-to-be f-f-future ruler,” he said with a cackle.
Alina looked past him to the surrounding room. She was in a dungeon, or a basement. Another stairwell in the far corner of the room indicated they weren’t on the top floor and she feared how deep beneath the world’s surface she actually was.
Is someone above us? Will they hear my screams? Even as she wondered, she knew there was no one and that her struggle was hers alone. She considered screaming just the same, but didn’t think she had the strength.
Scorne called out, “It is time. Come out and f-f-f-finish this.”
She whipped her head from side to side until she saw a shadow emerge from beside the stairs. She screamed, “Who are you?” though she didn’t expect an answer.
The figure stepped into the light. Her heart cried.
“Alina,” the shadow said. “Do not be afraid.”
“Father?”
CHAPTER 45
THE DEEPEST CUT
Elijah approached Alina’s table, his face wearing more pain than promise. He looked like a man who carried all of Epertase on his shoulders.
Scorne screamed, “Do it now. The suns grow black. It is time.”
Elijah leaned to her ear and whispered, “Your mother loved you more than anything in the world.”
A tear ran down to his chin and then dripped onto the table beside her. “I am sorry for this, Alina. I love you, greatly.”
“Sorry? What are you going to do? Father!”
He pulled a knife from his waistband.
“Why, Father?”
Scorne grabbed her cheeks. “You s-s-s-stupid wench. Don’t you see? Your greedy father doesn’t want to give up the throne just yet. So now you have to die. Just like his parents before him.”
“What? What does he mean, Father?”
Elijah answered, “I’ve done things in my past that I’m not proud of. Over the years I have tried to make amends but I can never erase my past.”
“You can now. You don’t have to do this.”
He raised the knife with both hands tight around its hilt. Scorne stared into her eyes with an eerie grin as if waiting with sick pleasure for what was about to happen. He licked his lips.
Alina closed her eyes. “Please, Father, don’t.” She strained one last futile time against her restraints.
Scorne shouted, “Do it now or I … Unhhh.”
She opened her eyes. His grin faded into something that would be worth pity if it wasn’t on such a psychopath. He grasped his side and staggered away from the table. His metal skin scurried to cover his new bloody wound.
She turned her head to her father, confused. Blood dripped from his blade. His face wore an infinite sadness.
“I could never hurt you, Alina. I think I knew that all along…” He paused to catch his wind. “At least I hope I knew that.”
Scorne cocked his head to the side, licked his red fingers, and then snarled at the taste of his own blood. Elijah lifted his blade in defiance.
“I s-s-s-s-see fear in you, coward,” Scorne said. Metal slithered around his knuckles. He pounced, heaving his fist forward. Elijah drew back his blade but Scorne was too fast.
Alina screamed, “No!”
Scorne connected his fist with Elijah’s cheek, sending the King sprawling to the ground. She heard her father’s knife, his only chance, slide across the floor and beneath her table.
She stretched her neck so she could see her father. He scuffled across the floor on his hands and knees.
Scorne said, “Come back here and face me,” as he trailed her father across the floor.
With a last gasp, Elijah sprang to his feet. Scorne closed in. Elijah punched him, but shattered his own knuckles against Scorne’s metal-coated jaw. Scorne twirled away from the blow. The metal on his arm pooled to his elbow and extended into a point. Alina screamed for her father with the realization that his future was about to be erased. Elijah reached for Scorne’s throat, catching only air. The symbiot spun. His elbow plunged into its target, sinking between Elijah’s ribs. Elijah froze. He dropped his chin onto Scorne’s shoulder.
Scorne leaned his head back and kissed her father on his cheek.
“Please,” she cried.
Scorne twisted his elbow to Elijah’s excruciating moans and his own antagonizing grin. Elijah grabbed Scorne’s arm with both hands to stop the torture. His enemy ripped the weapon free, spraying blood into the air.
Alina cried out.
Elijah dropped to his knees with an accepting stare. I’m sorry, Alina, he whispered in his head. Be strong, my little butterfly.
Scorne hissed, “I can hearrrr you, king,” and grinned his psychotic grin. He shoved Elijah to his back and then climbed onto his chest.
“I am getting good at killing kings,” he said.
Alina’s tears flowed as she watched helplessly.
Scorne cocked his fist back and hammered it down. Elijah’s feet bounced from the ground with each blow, until they lay flat and twitching. Alina turned her head away but could not escape the skin-crawling sound of metal clunking against meat and bone. She stared at the ceiling, trying to tune out the heart-wrenching sounds without success.
When she built enough courage to look at her father again, she saw what no daughter should have to see. Elijah lay on his back, breathing in shallow, rapid gasps. Blood bubbled from his mouth with each dying wheeze. He choked and coughed, sending blood into the air like a volcano. The murderer, Scorne, was nowhere to be seen.
“Monster,” Alina screamed without volume but with plenty of hate.
She turned her head away from her father’s broken body. Scorne startled her, standing, smiling at her side. He raised his knuckles to his lips and stained his tongue bright red. He took a deep quivering breath and his lips trembled with sick joy. His eyes rolled back into his head and his body shivered in apparent ecstasy. He exhaled short, stuttering bursts of pleasure. No death is quite so sweet as a king’s. He turned his head toward Alina. Except maybe a princes-s-s-s-s-s-s. He flashed his yellow-stained teeth.
Alina looked to the ceiling. Rasi, I need you.
CHAPTER 46
NOTHING AND E
VERYTHING
Rasi stood outside of the Lactnee warehouse. The streets were empty. The suns grew black as if in the throes of an eclipse. A slight ring of light peeked around their dark edges which illuminated the land in a dull haze. He considered hiding in the shadows until the suns were completely gone, but he no longer cared for stealth. He was there for blood and if his enemy saw him, it made little difference.
The doorway had three pieces of water-logged wood stretched across it to give the impression of vacancy. Rasi yanked the wood from the frame to the squeaks of bending and twisting rusty nails.
It was dead inside. The mostly empty warehouse smelled of glue and chemicals and even whiffs of burned wood after all these years. The interior was colossal, much larger than the exterior fascia would lead one to believe. Bird nests littered the open rafters. A small bird, maybe a sparrow, dove for Rasi’s head and swooshed past, narrowly missing.
The ceiling was more hole than roof, allowing the dimming suns’ light to shine plaid patterns onto broken-down, coal-burning machines. He couldn’t believe it; he thought he was so close.
It was empty.
It was a dead-end.
It was over.
Rasi slouched, defeated, and dropped to his knees on the soggy wood. He pictured Alina’s face, hoping whatever foul acts her kidnappers had planned would end quickly and without pain. He allowed himself one last hope that he would be able to find the criminals before the authorities did so he could dispense his own punishment for whatever they had done to his love.
Then, as he knelt on the warped warehouse floor, he heard the most wonderful voice in his mind.
Rasi, the voice said. I need you.
Alina? He was breathless.
It wasn’t empty.
It wasn’t over.
She was near.
Rasi stood up, his chin raised and his chest puffed out. He shed his cumbersome fur, exposing his bloodthirsty straps. His teeth nearly ground their enamel away; his muscles flexed eagerly. Where are you?
Oh gods, she answered. I don’t know. I’m in a dungeon. Or … Or … a basement.
Rasi’s anger poured out of him with a roar that reverberated through the vacant warehouse. He lost control of his senses. With a strenuous grunt, his straps overturned a giant machine. He crashed his fist through old wooden crates and kicked them into splinters. “Aaaaaahhhhh,” he screamed loud enough that the gods, along with Alina’s captors, must have heard.
Almost at the brink of insanity, he saw the faintest speck of brass on the farthest wall. The dim lighting struck it perfectly. It was there the whole time, screaming, “This way.” It was a doorknob. And it was everything.
I’m coming, my love.
Rasi crashed through the door, leaving little but its hinges.
The one they called Blog stood at the bottom of the staircase. Rasi’s chest heaved in anger. Blog glanced to one of the others, probably his master and the one Rasi would kill last. That freak nodded his approval. Blog withdrew his sword.
The female crept from across the room.
“I got him, Cyn,” the lummox said.
From atop the stairs, Rasi scanned the enemies and the room.
Elijah lie in a bloody mess in the corner. Rasi wouldn’t have been able to tell if he lived or not except for his agonal gasps of air. Why is he here? That was a mystery that would have to wait.
And that’s when he saw her. She was emaciated and sickly, lying on a table like a sacrifice. Rasi couldn’t hold back the rage. I will kill you all!
He marched down the stairs, darting his eyes from Blog to Cyn to Scorne then back to Blog again.
The lummox backed away to let Rasi advance. Maybe he saw something in Rasi he hadn’t seen when first they met at the Forest of Concore, and maybe it gave him pause, but whatever made Blog back away, it didn’t matter, Nothing would help him now.
Rasi leaped from the middle of the staircase. Blog swung his sword like a lumberjack might an axe but Rasi’s straps entangled his arms, shunting his swing. They twisted until his sword fell from his hands. Rasi’s momentum slammed him against Blog’s chest but the monster didn’t move.
It was at that moment that Rasi realized his mistake. Damn him for letting his rage take control. He pushed away but Blog wrapped his vice-like arms around him. Rasi’s straps engulfed the villain’s powerful upper body and constricted. One of them slithered around his throat but his metal skin hardened beneath it.
Cyn leaped from behind. A strap crashed against her chest, flinging her into the staircase with a thump. Rasi glanced at Scorne, who still stood at Alina’s side. For the moment, the murderous freak appeared more concerned with Rasi than with her. That was all Rasi could ask for.
Just keep watching, bastard.
Blog squeezed, strong.
Rasi worried his back was about to snap. He tried to take a breath but there was no room for his chest to expand. The straps tightened around Blog’s chest but Blog was too powerful and Rasi too weakened by his squeeze.
Rasi drew his arms back and clapped them against Blog’s ears but the behemoth hardly flinched. Unable to catch his breath, Rasi dropped his exhausted chin onto Blog’s bulky shoulder. He scanned the room for an advantage until he found one resting behind his enemy. It was Blog’s glistening sword waiting on the floor like a gift from the gods.
Rasi concentrated on his straps, praying they would listen. He closed his eyes and envisioned his straps grabbing the weapon from the floor. Concentrate!
By some miracle of the gods, they listened, or at least one of them heard his pleas because it unraveled and reached toward the blade, which lay just out of reach. Rasi wheezed as he tried to inhale. The strap strained and stretched to no avail. Rasi struggled to lift his head. It was no use.
But then another strap realized his plight and struck the stone wall, stiffening as it met the wall. Blog stumbled backward, making way for Rasi’s strap to curl around the sword’s blade.
Blog continued to squeeze. Rasi’s arms collapsed, exhausted, to his side. His body went limp against his mind’s every command.
He heard Cyn giggle from her new spectator perch on the stairs.
Rasi summoned his last bit of strength. He knew what he was about to do was going to hurt … a lot. He jerked his head back and then hurled it forward. His strap swung the sword’s hilt toward the back of Blog’s skull. Metal from Blog’s head liquefied and scrambled to defend his forehead. Rasi’s head collided with the metal, ripping a gash across his own brow. The strap bashed the sword’s unforgiving hilt into the back of Blog’s unprotected skull. His cocky grin changed into painful surprise. His arms dropped to his side. Rasi fell onto his back. Blog staggered while shaking his head like he was trying to jar the confusion loose.
Cyn didn’t hesitate and dove from the stairs. She was good, a trained killer. The metal from her shoulder slid down her arm and pooled into a razor sharp edge from her elbow to her wrist. Blog dropped to his knees with the force of a dying dragon.
Cyn was fast, too fast, and before Rasi could react, she whipped past, slicing across his back.
Rasi grunted and heaved his chest outward, his back stinging like it was on fire. Cyn circled around for another lightning pass. His straps lunged blindly, entangling her legs, and crashing her head-first into the stairs.
Rasi turned back to Blog, who swayed on his knees. Cyn bounced to her feet. Three of Rasi’s straps hovered and hissed while she stalked side to side. The straps mirrored her movements. Instead of pouncing, she waited to attack.
This was Rasi’s chance.
Blog stared past him with blank eyes at the blank wall.
Rasi clenched his hand along his side. Two of his straps twisted around his arm and fist and hung loosely to his knees. They twisted together like a towel being rung out until they formed a dull point. Then they hardened.
Rasi drew back. Blog wavered on his knees, ready to fall at any moment. He rubbed the back of his head and then stared at his blood-soaked hand.
“Bloooooog,” Cyn shrieked. She leaped blindly into the defending straps.
They enveloped her like a spider’s web, holding her at bay. She thrashed to free herself.
Blog’s metal skin scurried over his body as if unsure of where to defend.
Rasi’s strap that held the sword swung around and slammed against Blog’s side. The metal deflected the blow but left his chest exposed. Rasi plunged his arm and the hardened strap forward.
The hulking monster let out a wail.
Cyn froze in her struggle against the web of straps. Rasi glared over his shoulder at her while Blog hung lifelessly from the end of his arm. His other straps hurled Cyn through the air.
He yanked his arm and strap-weapon free from Blog’s chest.
The largest of all symbiots crumbled to the ground in a heap. His metal skin liquefied and pooled into a silver puddle on the floor. The glob released a high-pitched squeal as it flowed toward Rasi’s feet. He stepped away from the screeching glob and almost immediately the silver liquid hardened and corroded brown.
Scorne screamed for Cyn to keep Rasi back.
Cyn babbled some kind of heathen language. Her metal skin pooled along her arms and legs, rose from her skin, and melded into razor edges. Rasi’s straps met her attack. She sliced at his appendages but she was hesitant, not quite sure of how to strike. She hurled her reckless body into their web. Rasi backed away, his straps continuing their assault only to recoil with blood spraying from their ends.
Rasi heard the hate boil inside of her as she screamed in his mind. I’ll rip out your throat, murderer.
Inside, Rasi grinned at the irony of her accusations that he was the murderer.
“Yaaaaaaaaahhhhhh,” she shrieked and leaped again.
She made it past his straps to connect her fist with his cheek. He felt like he’d been struck by a horseshoe. His ears rang and vibrated through the back of his head. His legs went limp momentarily and he tumbled backward. Two of his straps braced against the floor, stopping his fall before springing him back to his feet. Blood streamed from a fresh gash below his left eye.
Light of Epertase 01: Legends Reborn Page 20