by Kai Leakes
The chaotic power from the Cursed King quickly shunted out the resonance he had kick-started. Darkness crept over the council hall, eating at the remaining light that fought against it. The groaning sounds of what he could decipher as trapped souls reached out to him in pained, devoid suffering. Everywhere he moved was as if Khamun had triggered a live mine. His wings pressed against him to shield him from falling bodies, blood, organs, and debris.
Ryo’s voice tapped his mind. He glanced up and saw the Dragon bulked into his true dragon form. He held a hybrid of a man and a demon by the throat walking him backward. His diamond-hard nails shredded at the monster’s face peeling it off before dropping his head to rip its throat out with his own mouth. Ryo’s tattoos seemed to swirl lifting with words Khamun couldn’t unlock. Yet, while he dropped the demon and pointed his Glock at other entities in the reaching dark, rounds sounded around them both and he held his arm out, holding a blade in his free hand.
Ryo chucked his head back to usher Khamun on. “I don’t know what you did, dude, but I’m amped. But check it, hurry, the King is coming. I have you covered.”
“Thank you, bro,” he quickly yelled. Entering the tunnel, Khamun stopped. Calvin stood near a floating Sanna. His brother was translucent but solid as rock. Khamun knew Calvin was no more, but even beyond the grave Cal was going to fight for his family. Calvin kept San behind him and away from the King. A smile played across his brother’s face the moment his twin scythes flipped back and forth.
“So you want my fam, huh? Gotta go through me, patna, before I let that one happen because this right here is divine; you can’t touch her,” Calvin taunted. Mystic magic flowed from his fingers. Statues that adorned the secret tunnels came alive to rush the approaching Cursed King in a running tackle to hold him down to the ground.
Khamun moved fast holding his blazing sword. Face to face with his uncle, his blade almost made contact with the Cursed King, but was immediately halted by a dark current blast from the King, sending him falling into a heap.
Marble broke and cracked.
The Cursed King roared and lifted from the ground in full demonic Fallen form. His menacing wings systematically broke down statues that continued to reach out for him. Other of his Cursed kind came forward and helped battle those statues that still clamored to trap the King.
“Don’t even think that I would allow you all to take me down so easily. The blade of Uriel can’t touch me, pup!” his uncle hissed.
The Cursed King rested in a one-kneed crouch surrounded by demons. He glared at Khamun with blood-red eyes. Wiping at his mouth, his uncle disinterestedly brushed off his jacket then spoke. “Maldita Sea. Blasted! You’re like a roach. Give me what is mine! Your Society is now extinct, thanks to me, accept it, and hand me the Oracle, boy!”
In that moment, Ryo landed hits against the jaded King. Blade fighting sticks appeared in the Dragon’s hands. He leaped in the air to slam them into the King’s shoulders, penetrating his shoulder blades. Blood flew in the air, splattering like paint against the walls. The King roared pissed but also distracted.
Khamun’s eyes glanced at Sanna. She no longer was floating but standing near Kyo, both women watching with blades in their hands. Sanna’s beauty, even in this moment, fed him and reminded him of his purpose to protect his family. Sweat ran into his eyes, making him wipe it away with the back of his hand then push his spilling locks back. He flipped his wrist to turn the flaming blade in his hand. His other hand rested on the Glock that held the blessed bullets within their chamber.
“Miss me with that crap, Uncle! You know what I want? I want to peel your flesh from your body and crack your chest open, that’s what I want,” Khamun crooned.
The clang of his spinal blade with its serrated edges hitting the Cursed King’s own red-tinged sword drew everyone’s eyes their way. Sweat rained down his massive body. Khamun’s arms strained from the weight of the Cursed King’s blows making him clenched his jaw in his adrenaline rush.
His forearm made contact with Khamun’s face. The blow as like a pile of bricks had fallen onto him and he found himself on his back. Pain reared his head and the Cursed King’s blade made contact with his shoulder going clean through and connecting to the floor. Caius held a finger up, wagging it in his face as he looked down at him.
Kneeling down to grip on to Khamun’s locks, the Cursed King forced his face toward Sanna before growling low then pointing her way. “Mira, wait right there. I want you watch this, nephew.”
Sanna lifted in the air and flew toward him. Her eyes widened and she screamed. However, it was a second scream that made him smile. Her beautiful kila blade rang in the air then made contact with the King’s broad chest. Black oily blood coated them both. His uncle’s grip loosened causing Sanna to fall backward to her knees. Khaumn proudly watched her scramble up and move to the side.
Khamun knew he had to use this open window fast. Fisting his hand around the blade in his own shoulder, he pulled hard. A roar ripped from his mouth and he turned to the side to see the King standing back up again, Sanna’s blade now at his feet, Khamun hustled placing a healing spell, created by Calvin, over his wound cauterizing it. Blood pooled around his hands. He remembered the spells and history he had learned in his books. Spelling out different runes, he clapped his hand against the floor underneath him and he went flying in the air ramming the Cursed King backward.
Khamun surged his fist forward. The back of it made contact with the evil King’s face. As he felt the force of the punch against his uncle’s face, Khamun was shocked at how much Marco didn’t look like the King. They shared the same eyes and jaw line as well as the same cinnamon skin, but the rest reflected the appearance of the woman in his dreams: his aunt. Something within caused Khamun to glance around, noticing the bodies of both Calvin and the Medusa. Strangely, Calvin’s spirit still cloaked Sanna helping Kyo fight off demons that came Sanna’s way.
Fury fueled him and made him drop into the Reaper. An ominous smile crept across his face. “Psst, let me tell you something.”
A force of power from Khamun sent the King backward deep into then through a wall in front of Ryo. His dragon let out a roar, wrapped his tail around the Cursed King, and then slammed into an open pipe in the ground. Dragon flames mixed with that of Khamun’s own ominous power covering the evil King in a blanket of divine flames. The charred scent of fire left everyone transfixed and in awe. Khamun stood in his full Sin Eater form. His eyes were black, his skin shimmering with his flaming aura, which connected with his sword and lit it with celestial fire.
“Death is upon you. I am what goes bump in the night. I am your last breath. I am the last thing you see. I am at your birth and I am at your end. Your sins are mine, Uncle, and your fallen soul will burn with the devil’s,” Khamun icily taunted.
Sanna felt the close blow of a blade near her neck, then the sideswipe and a punching slap. She ducked low, spinning on the balls of her feet and punched forward then upward. The blunt of her knuckles made contact with a stomach and then a face. A feminine grunt sounded and the sound of a body hitting brick had Sanna stepping backward. Trying to regain her equilibrium, she looked down and saw Reina lying before her. Her rich mahogany mane was neatly pulled back into a ponytail, the end of it spilling like velvet ink next to her.
Even after taking down her cousin, the harlot had the nerve to still come after her? Lessons were about to be taught. Sanna licked her lips and clutched her fists. Instinct roared for her to protect herself from assault. Logic screamed death was not going to happen to her today.
Rushing forward Sanna sent her Nike-covered feet toward Reina’s stomach. Reina instantly grabbed her ankle twisting it and lifting her own legs up to kick Reina’s waist causing her stumble backward. Sanna glanced around her to look for something to hit the crazy chick. She dropped down and picked up a broken metal silver rod that lay on a boulder at her feet.
She slammed it hard against Reina, pinning her down back where she has sat in shock. H
eated power shifted the steel pole in Sanna’s hands, turning it into a chained invisible platinum collar. Sanna clamped it down around Reina’s throat then dropped close enough to the woman’s face to catch the slowly budding sparks of awakening in her eyes.
Sanna could feel the bristle of power sizzling around them both. It caused the hairs on her arms to stand on end. Her body tensed and her breath came out in spurts. Sanna turned and lifted a hand in the air. Several blessed bullets made from the nails flew into Reina’s shoulder, thigh, and hand.
The searing slice of pain at Sanna’s neck paralyzed her in the moment stopping her in her tracks. She couldn’t believe this was happening. The pulse of her life suddenly was beating away, each drop at a time. Before her in piles of bodies lay her family, just as she had saw in her dreams, fighting with many other Nephilim warriors.
Reina had killed her cousin. Reina had stood there and shot him with no remorse. No iota of respect to the ounce of Light that coursed in her blood. She sat and let that bullet also penetrate the woman who was once her Medusa but who now lay over her cousin in human form as Nydia. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she held the back of his neck. The grave sound of chiming continued.
“You killed them. You killed my family!” Sanna forced out. Anger was blinding her. The whispers of the Most High’s commands guided her.
Reina lay in utter shock. Blood spilled from her wounds. Her hands were cut from digging them on the floor, which was littered with broken glass and other sharp objects. The scent of silver was in the air from the Nazareth bullets having gone off. The Cursed King’s blood was over her body and Sanna slapped a bloody handprint against Reina’s face, pushing her cheek into the ground.
“I said, you killed my family. Calvin; even your own precious pet! What do you have to say? Reina.” Sanna spit out between her teeth.
“I . . . Nydia. Nydia! You killed . . . I killed . . .” Reina slowly stammered.
Sanna narrowed her eyes, watching the Dark Lady closely. The sparks of light in the woman were almost gone, but with knowledge, there is always power and those sparks started to brighten. “Exactly. You betrayed family again. You allowed your father to manipulate you, yet again in this life. Are you grasping at what I’m saying?”
Reina hissed out, trying to slash at her but Sanna sent a surging fist near the side of Reina’s face before slapping her hard. Wrapping a hand around the woman’s collared throat, Sanna’s honey eyes blazed as if they were fire. Pain swallowed Sanna’s spirit, making the emotions she was feeling raw in anguish. The sudden power of the ancestors from all Nephilim ripped through San’s body and she felt herself snatch Reina’s life force. The sounds of heightened screams made tears fall faster down her caramel skin, her voice becoming ominous in its seriousness.
A cold calmness settled over her and she solemnly muttered into her enemy’s mind, “Feel my blood within you. Feel it connect with the nails of Nazareth. Do you feel it restoring and cleansing what was tainted? Showing you the truth of who you really are? You are not his child. Your brother is not his. He betrayed him all and now you will do the same. Remember your promise; remember who you are!”
The room darkened. Everyone stopped their fight, then silence filled the chamber. The click and sharp sizzle of the grid being pulled online made every remaining demon run.
“Grid is back on. Sanna do it!” Kali yelled in her earpiece.
With a simple, smooth fluid motion, Sanna slammed her fist back into Reina. Pillars, walls of art, floor panels, and the eyes of every Light Nephilim in the room lit up with the power that she sparked into the grid. She wanted this over, right now. Reina’s screams echoed in her mind as light swallowed the woman, then sent her back to her Cursed Kingdom.
Khamun drew her attention the moment he dropped to one knee her way in reverence then stood to position himself over a burning Cursed King. Everything erupted in that moment. Sanna connected with Khamun’s and Ryo’s fires. She listened to the Fallen angel scream then pull himself from the wall in flames. What were once cuts that lined his chiseled face were now exposed flesh. His all-black tailored-cut Italian suit was shredded, covered in fresh and dried blood, instantly blazing in flames. The bulked strain of his muscles caused his suit to fall to the ground then he lifted a hand and blasted Khamun with his power.
“Your efforts are nothing! I am Caius, Fallen Vessel of Bernael. I will continue to reign!” the Cursed King raged.
The deplorable sound of bones crunched in Khamun’s body with the clutch of the King’s fist made Sanna’s stomach lurch. She stepped forward to help but the drowning yell from his voice in her mind, telling her to stop, kept her in her place. Sanna moved away from a pinned Reina to quietly rush to Calvin and Nydia’s unprotected bodies. Khamun stayed lifted in the air, contorted in pain. His attempt to show no pain slowly broke the longer the King held his grip on him. Ryo fought to get to Khamun but he too was quickly hit in his throat, and then slammed backward into weakening wall.
Sanna screamed. She wanted to go head to head with the King but her dreams kept playing over in her mind and flooded into this reality. The Cursed King stood on the dead bodies of Nephilims who fought against him. The floor was a sea of their blood with that of the Cursed who hadn’t dissolved into mist yet. Pieces of body parts haphazardly lay mangled in different areas of the room and captives were hanging by their arms in chains. She felt helpless in the moment, fighting with herself to help Khamun, but it was Marco who stepped forward that made the breath catch in her throat.
Twisting Khamun until another snap of bone echoed in the room, the Cursed King snarled out, “You come any closer and your cousin is dead, hijo. Any of you come forward and his blood will spill. Now, where was I?”
A deep, devoid laugh erupted from Marco. He calmly walked forward. The sound of Khamun’s scream ripped through Sanna’s heart.
“You think that’s going to stop me from taking you down, Padre? Waited a long time to decapitate you with my own hands; aren’t you ready for that too?” Marco cajoled.
Sanna watched in shock. Marco’s icy aura made the King lock on to him as if in a trace. His outstretched hand slowly relaxed the longer he stared into his son’s silver iced eyes causing Khamun to almost gradually fall to the floor.
“Sí, it’s beyond time that we had that father-son reunion,” the Mad King muttered in amusement.
“Indeed.” Marco hunkered down and ran forward. Twin blades appeared at his wrists.
The King seemed to wait for the hit then moved his hand in front of him, using Khamun’s body as his shield.
Sanna’s screamed out, “No!” but the battle continued.
Marco made smooth, calculated moves to dodge every blow the King made Khamun’s body maneuver. He turned to move into the Mad King’s blind spot, landing a blow to his father’s face with a spiraling air kick.
Sanna could instantly see that Marco has assessed every weakness the King had and she honed in on to them herself.
When the King was using his power, he left his back open and the side of his body where his arm was outstretched. It took Marco only a few distracting moves to push his blades longer and slide up to jab a silver blessed blade into the Cursed King’s ribcage. That act resulted in the King bringing his fist down into Marco’s skull and planting his foot into his chest.
The ringing of a gun from behind the Cursed King caused him jerk forward with the impact. He released his grip upon Khamun and fell on to his knees. The Cursed King pulled at the blade that was lodged in his ribcage throwing it at Marco and sending him flying into several watching demons. He rubbed at his throat, a thin line of blood forming from where he wasn’t even aware of Marco cutting him.
The King roared. All around him shook. A static charge of heat emitted around the room and dead Nephilim began lifting from the ground, their skin grayed and peeling off.
“Did you all see that? I need backup; our Prince needs backup. Do everything you can to keep his and our Oracle’s backs clear as they handle
business. Take the demon’s heads, blow out their hearts, and line it with locus tracers. Nox out!”
The clamoring noise of the battle ensuing in the great hall spilled into the street of the Nephilim stronghold as teams tried to keep the enemy from destroying whole building. Sanna watched every soldier still fighting, including Elders, Council Elders, and dignitaries, break apart and head after the roaming corpses. The sound of Khamun’s laughter brought her attention back to her beloved. His locks fell over his face in a crinkled mess. He used his fists to push himself up to slowly stand in a predatory state. Flames covered his body, healing the bones that were once broken.
Tilting his head to the side, he raised a finger in front of him and tsked. “I’ve been feeding and now your ass is under a pile of shit. This healing right here isn’t nothing but a thing. What about you?”
Rocks, broken beams, and then rubble began to groan then shake. A loud burst and a roar from the King had him escaping from his cage. Lifting in the air to fall in a low crouch on top of the mound, the Cursed King growled and held his hand up motioning for Khamun to come to him. “You have effectively gotten on my nerves!”
Charging toward the King, Khamun ducked under his enemy’s massive arms then swung his sword. Metal made contact and hit his back, pulling out two daggers to pierce the Cursed King’s sides. Caius glanced around thinking nothing of the wounds as he too ran forward toward Khamun again to attack, slicing at Khamun’s chest. A satisfied smile flashed across his face and he licked the blood he collected from Khamun’s wounds with his jagged nails.
“Delicioso,” the Cursed King taunted.
Khamun gave a warrior’s cry then met the King head to head. The decision Khamun had to make was instantly chosen. Sanna could read the judgment and animosity in her beloved’s dark eyes. He turned the Dark Lord’s own sword on him then sliced from the side of the neck and downward through his chest. The glorious sound of the bastard’s blood falling on the land made him step back then grab the King by the face staring into his crazed eyes as he gagged on his own blood.