DEATH SUITS HER_A Supernatural Reverse Harem Romance Adventure

by Leighton Lawless

  Together, we move to confront the demon army that’s been created for this moment.

  The fighting plays out like a montage as shots of frenetic and impossibly violent combat teems all around us. Explosions fill the landscape as the enemy begins its onslaught.

  We spread out, eyes aglow, as we deploy our newly acquired weapons and strike at them.

  The team and I first face off against squads of demonic Cossacks, the ‘butchers’ of countless civilians.

  I charge into their rotting bulk with no care for what happens to me.

  We all open fire with our vintage weaponry.

  Dominic guns down the Cossacks with his machine gun.

  Jessup fires a rifle.

  Michael inflicts great damage with his blade and explosives.

  We cut a path of gore through the enemy as battle is then met with the Ottoman warriors at mid-lake.

  The demonic Ottoman warriors shimmer and swarm like piranha in the uniforms of the Ottoman Empire.

  Dominic lets loose with his vintage machine gun, but he gets sliced through the arm by a bullet from an Ottoman warrior. Amber blood spurts.

  He shakes it off and continues the fight.

  I stay close to Hines.

  Of all of us, he’s the most vulnerable, and I can’t bear the thought of him falling because of my decisions.

  He deserves better. He stabs and cuts through the Ottoman warriors.

  I blaze away with guns in both hands like a mechanized reaper as I lead everyone across the frozen lake.

  We pick up increasingly modernized weapons along the way as we work our way forward and get ready to face off against a platoon of Einsatzgruppen commandos.

  They’re the worst of the worst. They were Himmler’s handpicked troops.

  Their side and ours lay down a blizzard of bullets across a psychotic warren of stacked trucks, a hellish labyrinth.

  We won’t win a war of attrition.

  As we’ve learned time and again, evil will always outnumber us.

  I have to make a difference. I have to become an agent of death.

  I cut through the commandos and down them in threes and fours.

  Their bodies whipsaw as I strafe through the enemy, slapping ammo clips in and firing them out, again and again, as I use my left hand to cut them down with my bladed chain.

  Michael, a one-angel killing machine, cyclones across a wall of ice with his blade distended.

  With one fell swoop, he decapitates two SS soldiers.

  Dominic snatches up a flamethrower, straps it around his chest, and releases balls of molten fire into the bellies of the rotting soldiers.

  Kentucky Fried Demons with their heads cut off like chickens run like fricasseed torches as Dominic continues firing them up.

  I heft a submachine gun with my teeth bared as I fire at will with well-measured bursts.

  For a brief second, I think we might come out of this without any loss or damage.

  Knock on wood, but it’s too late.

  My fears manifest themselves.

  28

  Rebirth

  Next to me is Jessup. He’s grazed by enemy fire and falters. Wounded, he collapses to the ice.

  I go to help, but he pushes up off the frozen lake and brushes past me as he prepares to fight back.

  Booby-traps explode in a row and send massive plumes of ice crystals into the air, creating an eerie strobe-effect.

  I take a step forward, and I’m about to lay waste to the rest of the enemy, but without warning, I crash through a fissure in the icy lake and plunge into the murk below.

  With my face submerged, I can’t breathe.

  I struggle, hands on the ice, opening my mouth to scream and shout but not able to make a sound. It’s deathly silent down below.

  I manage to get my head above the splashing water for a brief moment and gasp for air.

  When I look back down, though, I see a terrible horror.

  The ice is freezing around my body.

  The fast-acting ice works its way up my legs. It’s almost at my waist by the time I even realize what’s happening.

  I’m stuck in place as a shadow looms above me and looks down, ready to strike.

  It’s a drooling Norse berserker.

  He leers and licks his lips. Then, he brings a massive ax over his head and readies it to split my skull apart.

  Bullets shred the Norse berserker’s chest as he topples to the side, revealing Jessup holding his still-smoking submachine gun.

  He slides across the ice and riddles the area around me with bullets, breaking the ice apart.

  I still vanish beneath the water’s surface.

  Underwater, I sink straight down into the mass of frozen warriors.

  There’s so much death left in Lucifer’s wake. So many lives have been lost over the Silver Tongue Deceiver’s ambitions.

  I will not accept this as the end.

  I will not let my son remain in the grasp of Lucifer. I have to find a way to survive.

  Hands shoot through the water and grasp at me.

  I’m pulled up.

  At first, I worry that it might be a demon attempting to finish me off.

  I grunt, and oxygen bubbles escape my mouth as I suck in air. I reach up in an act of faith and clasp the hand that’s reaching down for me.

  I’m prepared to fight back but hope against the odds that I’ve been rescued.

  As I rush up, my eyes fall on Jessup who’s using all his strength to pull me up out of the murky water and out onto the ice where I collapse.

  I roll over onto my back, my body stricken, limp, and blue from hypothermia.

  Jessup grabs my face and locks his mouth to mine, as he’s done so many times before.

  He breathes into my lungs, sending life-saving air into my body.

  “WAKE UP, SAMYA! WAKE UP!” he shouts.

  I convulse and gasp for air as I cough fitfully.

  Jessup leans down and wraps his arms around me.

  He kisses my forehead and cheeks, as he shields me from the battle that still rages all around.

  “You’re okay now. Everything’s okay,” Jessup says as he elbows himself up and looks into my eyes.

  “Thank you for saving me,” I manage. “Thank you.”

  Jessup looks away, overcome with emotion. He’s always felt like the fifth wheel around me.

  I wonder if the real reason he was so adamant about me not being involved in Noah’s life was because he was jealous I’d only have feelings for Jenkins, Noah’s father.

  Little does Jessup know that it’s nearly impossible for me to be comfortable loving only one person.

  After what happened with Michael after the First Holy War, I can’t bear the thought of being tied to just one person to love. I need to know that there will always be someone who needs me.

  Too many times I’ve lost someone precious to me. Too many times, they’ve been lost to the unforgiving wilt of old age or combat.

  Love is love, and I’m grateful and proud of the intimacy I’ve found with everyone I’ve loved.

  Time is fleeting, and people move on. Sometimes, they move on into the afterlife, but I’m still here.

  I need Jessup as much as I need anyone else. I just wish that he could accept that.

  I wish he wouldn’t need me to be only with him. It doesn’t mean I love him less.

  It simply means I love him to the point of recognizing that I need to have someone else there if he’s taken from me.

  One day, I’ll let him know how I feel. It won’t be this day, though.

  We have a war to win.

  “Samya, I need to—there’s something I have to tell you,” Jessup says.

  “Look out,” I say, cutting him off.

  I throw Jessup aside, grab a jagged hunk of ice and ram it into the neck of a Norse berserker.

  In an instant, I’m back on my feet, vintage weapons in hand, with no time to talk as I lead the two of us back into the fray.

  We reel acro
ss the ice, cutting through a bleak fog that descends over the battlefield.

  We’re quickly confronted by the berserkers who fly at us as Jessup cuts them down in a hailstorm of gunfire.

  Some of the berserkers manage to slip through the fire, three females and a male that surround me.

  They swing their swords and howl what sounds like a death song as I uncoil my bladed chain, biding my time.

  One of the females spits a wad of black blood and stabs a finger in the air, shrieking in a foreign tongue.

  “Come get some!” I shout back.

  The berserkers surge forward and I swing my chain, twisting my wrist so that it curls back around at an angle.

  The sharpened tip pierces the flesh of the berserkers and then the chain whipsaws back into my hand as I grab and snap it taut.

  The chain chews through the berserkers, bisecting their bodies.

  Jessup moves to me, the barrel of his gun glowing red.

  “Nice work,” he says, surveying the bodies.

  He reaches out and takes my hand and then we haul ass across the ice.

  Eventually we catch up with Dominic, Hines, and Michael who’s leading a final assault.

  We cut a bloody path right through the heart of the attacking demons and make our way to the other end of the frozen lake, which abuts a hillside leading to the ridge-line.

  At the precipice of the hilltop, Dominic turns back to face the remaining demons, who are still a thousand strong and regrouping for a counterattack.

  Dominic pulls a massive grenade launcher around, takes a knee, and fires a single round that shrieks out over the frozen lake. It detonates with a terrible rumble as a percussive fireball obliterates nearly everything in sight.

  The explosion buckles the ice in one tectonic upheaval. Great sheets of it split apart.

  The demonic warriors plunge, screaming, into the icy water, vanishing into the murky depths.

  The flames from the explosion continue to rise into the sky, a Biblical pillar of fire as Hines whispers, “Zoroastrians believe that Hell will one day be cleansed by a great fire. I think Dominic just got that fire started.”

  The moment of triumph is cut short by bloodcurdling howls that reverberate from behind us.

  I turn to see a spectral figure holding an oversized sword.

  The spectral figure guards the top of the ridge-line.

  On either side, hellhounds, which look like wolves on steroids with oversized jaws, rippling muscles, and bloody teeth, snarl at us. Their eyes burn like furnace stoke-holes.

  “Is that who I think it is?” I ask.

  Michael nods.

  “That, my love, is what’s left of the warrior formerly known as Alexander the Great,” he answers. “He guards the exit out of the abyss.”

  “Well, it’s time to see just how ‘great’ he is,” I reply.

  We gird ourselves for battle and step toward the legend himself.

  His eyes burn with demonic lust.

  29

  Doubt and Hope

  Dominic and Hines aim at Alexander and prepare to unleash their fury, but I motion for them to lower their weapons.

  “This one’s mine,” I argue. “Everything has led to this moment.”

  Without hesitation, I unleash my bladed chain from my wrist and sling it outward.

  A second later, I blast upward and begin closing the remaining gap between Alexander and me, rushing to the top of the hillside.

  Dark clouds swirl overhead. Visibility is poor.

  Alexander looks like an apparition, barely even recognizable as a human anymore.

  I continue charging for him, unafraid of his dark countenance and menacing presence.

  Alexander screeches with bloodlust in his voice, causing the hellhounds to bound down the hillside, jaws snapping with saliva and remnant blood from their most recent kills.

  I match their speed and hurtle toward them.

  The hellhounds continue, beelining it toward me, but Hines draws their attention.

  He pulls out two sticks of dynamite and brandishes them.

  “C’mere, doggies! Come and get it!” Hines dares.

  The hellhounds fall prey to their instinct and nature and lunge for Hines.

  The dynamite sparks to life as Hines tosses one of the sticks to Dominic.

  The two of them separate to either flank, causing confusion in the hellhounds.

  The hellhounds split off from each other as they rocket toward Hines and Dominic, but Hines and Dominic hold fast and lift the dynamite up like twigs, wagging them.

  Then, they hurl the sticks directly at the hellhounds.

  Of all the things we’ve witnessed thus far, I still can’t believe what I see next.

  The hellhounds react like dogs playing fetch and give chase after the dynamite.

  They grab the sticks in their mouths and clench down.

  By the look of pleasure in their demonic eyes, I surmise that the hellhounds believe themselves to be victorious.

  “Get down!” Dominic shouts.

  Both hellhounds are atomized in fiery explosions as the dynamite detonates.

  Seconds later, thanks to Hines and Dominic clearing the path, I reach the top of the ridge-line where Alexander and I meet face-to-face.

  His countenance is darkened, and his eyes are ablaze with an evil glow.

  He was a great warrior and leader of people once.

  He did conquer the known world, after all. He was ahead of his time.

  His path, however, has diverged.

  He’s fallen victim to Lucifer’s seduction. He knows not what he does.

  “Step aside and I won’t kick your ass!” I shout.

  Alexander cocks his head and then he begins to laugh, until his body is nearly convulsing.

  I take this as a sign of serious disrespect.

  “You aren’t worthy of shining the tip of my sword!” Alexander shouts.

  I nod, white-knuckling my bladed chain, fingering the cool coils.

  Oh, the things I’m going to do to you, Alexander, I think.

  He unleashes first and thrusts his sword in a bevy of strikes.

  I counter each one, but the tempo of his attacks increases to the point where our matched thrusts and blocks blur into a flurry of slashing.

  We circle each other like gladiators, probing, trying to find each other’s weak spots.

  His blade arcs against the arrowhead at the end of my bladed chain.

  The scream of metal against metal causes showers of sparks to shoot out.

  I’m out-skilled and outmatched by a long shot.

  Alexander has me on the defensive and swipes his blade left, then right, carving through the flesh on my left shoulder.

  The ‘great’ in Alexander is evident, and he screams in triumph as if he’s already won the fight.

  Sensing his opportunity, Alexander launches himself through the air, but I react utilizing every ounce of unspent energy to dive forward.

  I pass under Alexander and manage to torque his blade in an upward cutting motion, in an attempt to sever him from temple to toe.

  I’ve used his strength against him, unsure if it’s worked.

  If my maneuver has failed, I’m dead. If it worked, I’ve won.

  I smash onto the ground and roll over, then look back.

  Alexander wobbles and holds still for several seconds.

  A heartbeat later, he explodes in symmetrical pieces.

  The rest of my team see this and erupt in cheers as I grit through the pain and stand.

  I stare down the hillside over the frozen lake and triumphantly launch my bladed chain into the air in its full glory.

  I’ve defeated Lucifer’s pet-project on the battlefield, and I’m ready to launch at the Serpent himself.

  I open my mouth to declare victory but remember my true purpose and desire hasn’t yet been fulfilled.

  The battle is not over.

  My eyes fall on my team, who have become more like family through our combined t
rials and battles.

  We’re moments from the end, and we need each other now more than ever.

  The others rush up the hillside, past the dead, over the top of the bullet-riddled and shredded demons.

  They join me at the top and kneel to check their weapons.

  I wipe the black blood from my bladed chain and place a hand on Michael’s left shoulder.

  He’s emboldened, as he surveys a trail that serpentines across a naked section of rock.

  “We can do this, Michael,” I say. “If we stick together we can finish this and get Noah back and make Lucifer sorry that he ever set this whole thing up.”

  Michael smiles at my bravado and steals a quick look at the others but doesn’t reply.

  Dominic is busy checking and rechecking a flamethrower with a broken strap and trying to reposition the bulky metal pieces.

  He drops the weapon to the ground with frustration.

  “Fuck,” he barks.

  I glance at the flamethrower. The shoulder strap is torn.

  “The problem is with the washer,” Hines says. “It’s shot.”

  Dominic glares at Hines, who gestures at the strap.

  Hines rushes over.

  “See, here, look,” Hines says and reaches over and grabs a small, broken disk of metal that lies under a screw that once held the strap to the flamethrower. “This washer is supposed to slip in under the screw and hold the strap in place.”

  Dominic looks back and forth between the weapon and Hines.

  “Don’t need it,” Dominic says.

  “Gonna lug that thing with one arm, tough guy?” Hines asks. “You might be an angel, but no one’s that strong.”

  “I’ll manage,” Dominic says. “I have the strength of a hundred humans.”

  “Fire it up then,” Hines replies.

  “What?” Dominic asks.

  “Your weapon, bro,” Hines says. “Fire that puppy up.”

  Dominic opens a valve on the flamethrower, pulls a knife out, points the flamethrower’s nozzle at a piece of rock.

  The sound of gas rushes out of the nozzle and can be heard as Dominic strikes the knife on the rock, sparks showering, igniting a blue flame at the end of the nozzle.

  “Knife me,” Hines says, having proven his point.