Light of Darkness

by Lonnie Davidson

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “No clue, but whatever it is, it’s big.”

  Suddenly, the air grows stale and gross. Something slams onto the grate of the ventilation shaft, and it falls to the ground in a plume of black dust. The cloud clears, revealing a man dressed in all black, wearing a ski mask, a thick leather belt, and a medium length sword—a bastard sword—with a bronze leather bound hilt in a sheath at his hip. He looks around and steps forward. From the vent, eight others drop down next to him. All are in black with ski masks and are equipped with a variety of weapons.

  I move closer to Valene. “Valene, are they ours?” I whisper.

  “Not sure. I wasn’t given complete details on who or what to expect.” She steps forward. Black energy radiates from her hands. As she grips it, the energy lengthens and forms into long daggers. “Who are you?”

  “Followers of Gaia,” the lead guy says in a monotone voice.

  Valene relaxes a bit, but my stomach hasn’t stopped doing flips since they appeared. I look them over. Upon closer inspection, I notice they are trembling and breathing heavily as if they’re in pain. Liquid steadily drips from their hands onto the ground. The crimson color shines in the light as it begins to pool at their feet. Blood. “Valene, something’s off.”

  The first guy steps forward, drawing his sword; the blade is already stained with blood. He lifts his mask from over his mouth, and brown sludge drips from his lips. “We are the followers of Gaia who have failed, and now, living is agony,” he says with a disturbing smile. He rushes Valene, prepared for a vertical slash. With just a slight turn to the side, she easily evades him and plants her foot right into his face.

  There are crunching and snapping sounds as he tumbles across the floor like a rag doll. He comes to a bloody stop, his limbs twisted in unnatural ways. She turns, facing the others, but they haven’t budged. “Agony.” We both turn to see the leader standing again, broken and twisted, but still with that smile. He’s the kind of monster that killed my parents. It brings back images of the thing outside of my room. Valene moves back next to me.

  “This is the Messenger’s doing. He’s controlling them,” I tell her.

  “But how did he know about us?”

  “Your friend, Magician, told me a lot in his death.” Our gazes snap up to the catwalk. The Messenger casually leans over the railing, picking at the rotting skin on his face. “He didn’t tell me anything about the rebels I didn’t already know, but he told me about himself. His favorite places, foods, and people. Imagine my surprise to find out that his favorite place was a suspected rebel base, and that his favorite cousin was Valene Kir. So, I decided to pay your little friends here a visit. We got to talking, things got out of hand, and as you can see, we had a little fun. Well, at least I did.” The guy Valene kicked hobbles back over to his sword and picks it up. “Now, let the fun continue. Get them.”

  Slowly, the group starts forward. A purple aura covers their weapons as they ready them. The guy Valene struck down rushes us. He swings his sword, slashing horizontally from the left. Valene steps forward, bringing her right dagger up, blocking his strike with an explosion of power. She brings her other dagger around and, with minimal effort, slices through his neck, decapitating him.

  There is a snap of energy as his head flies through the air and lands in front of me. My vision blurs as my stomach twists. You would think already seeing a severed head would have prepared me for this. Nope.

  “Kyle, get a grip!” Valene’s voice snaps me back to reality. “Here they come.” She pushes the body away.

  Her daggers dissipate, and she picks up his sword. Her golden energy pulses up her hands and into the blade. She dashes into the group, wielding the sword. She cuts three of them down, cleaving them in half at the chest. Two of them step to the outskirts of her range and continue toward me. I clench my hands to stop them from shaking. Okay, Kyle. Okay, here we go. I swallow the bit of puke that has crept up my throat and put all my focus into channeling energy throughout my body.

  The two of them pincer me, coming from my left and right. They brandish spears that glow with that purple aura. In unison, they lunge at me. My hands burn as all my energy surges into them. I manage to catch the spear on my left and deflect the other away from me. I twist the spear around, and with as much strength as I can muster, snap the blade off the end.

  The two lunge for me again. With a side kick each, I knock them away from me. Then, my feet are swept out from under me, and I hit the ground. The remaining spear glints in the light as it comes at me. I roll to the left, dodging it, and it plunges into the floor. Rolling back, I take the spearhead already in my hand and slice through the staff before they can pull it back. Taking the other spearhead in my right hand, I roll to my feet and get into a fighting stance. They regroup next to one another, examine their broken spears, and look at me, then at each other. Okay, still alive. Keep it up. I can do this.

  The purple aura still surrounding their staffs starts to shift. It stretches out from where I broke the spearheads off and replaces the points with long, solid blades of energy. Okay, round two.

  They rush me one at a time. One strikes low at my legs, while the other follows up, striking high near my chest and head. They’re trying to keep me off-balance, and it’s working. I can’t seem to get my footing. I manage to deflect the deadlier strikes, but the small cuts have accumulated, and I’m covered in blood. This is the weirdest time to be having déjà vu, but I am.

  I plant myself, and they both lunge at me, aiming right for my heart. At the last second, I sidestep the joint strike, wrap my left arm around the spears, and with a quick jerk upward, rip the spears from their hands and up into their chins. Keeping my momentum, I spin, bringing the butt of the spears across their faces as hard as I can.

  Their heads have done a complete one-eighty and are facing backward. Apparently, I don’t know my own strength anymore. They wobble on their feet. Instead of falling, the two of them turn, facing one another, and grab each other’s heads. With a few loud cracks, they slowly reorient themselves.

  “Oh right, you’re technically zombies.”

  I look past them to Valene. She kicks one of her opponents with a roundhouse kick so hard and fast that a huge dent appears in the left side of his chest. He drops dead, brown-tinted blood pouring from his mouth. That’s right. If these guys are the same as the monster that killed my parents, the only way to stop them is to destroy their hearts and stop the blood from pumping.

  With one more sickening snap, my opponents are back in fighting condition. They prepare to attack again. Just thinking about killing them makes me queasy. Even if they are already dead, it feels wrong to entertain the idea. They rush me again, now only with their fists for weapons. They attack high to low interchangeably. I dodge and parry their strikes easily. Fighting hand to hand against these two is like fighting a kid doing the windmill. They’re nothing compared to Valene or Jason.

  My back hits a wall. They gear up for their final strike, and slow-motion sets in. I can see an opening near each of their throats. Energy surges throughout my body. It concentrates around my hands and radiates up my arms, making my skin crawl and burn. The energy begins to solidify, becoming hard. Before time normalizes, I step forward between them, take ahold of their necks with my black bone claws, and dig my fingers in deep into their flesh. They struggle against me. I take a deep breath to calm myself and swallow back bile. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Our death is freedom,” one of them says.

  “This life is agony. Please,” the other says.

  I close my eyes and yell as I clench my claws into fists. I tear through their flesh like squeezing clay through my fingers, until I hit and crack cartilage and bone. They drop to the floor, and I open my eyes to the sting of tears forming. Their brown blood pools everywhere while they lie there with content smiles under their masks.

  God. What did I just do? It hurts to breathe; I feel sick, and I can’t stop shaking.
I look up to see Valene still fighting. As she fends off one zombie, another comes up behind her, ready to attack. Crap. I run past the bodies and up behind the attacker. Without hesitation, I drive my claw into his back, take hold of his beating heart, and crush it before he can stab her.

  Valene spins around, swinging a broken sword. She stops just shy of taking this zombie’s head off when our eyes meet. The look in her eyes is fierce—a look I’ve grown accustomed to while training with her. In an instant, they soften as she looks me over. “Thanks, Hero.”

  I pull my hand from the zombie’s back. “You’re welcome.” My stomach tightens and heaves; I finally puke.

  Valene rubs my back, trying to comfort me. “Get it all out, Hero.” The sound of clapping echoes off the walls. We look up at the Messenger, who has amusement written all over his rotten face. “We’re not done yet.”

  My, what a truly impressive display of brutality. I’m especially surprised by you, Kyle. Seeing someone kill for the first time is quite awe-inspiring—especially when it’s their own comrades.” The Messenger’s voice is like rocks grinding against one another.

  “They were not our comrades,” Valene says coldly.

  The room fills with his grotesque laugh. He jumps over the railing, landing just outside of the circle. He puts his foot into a pool of the brown blood and smears it around, then looks around smiling. “Almost,” he says, looking at us. “I think you two will do just fine.” He steps into the circle and snaps his fingers. A wall of red energy appears around us, sealing us in—a barrier.

  We get into the Lokar fighting stance. Our energies swell and collide, melding together. Surprise touches the Messenger’s milky-white eyes. “As I thought—you two have been trained in the ancient ways. Well, so have I.” His hands hang down to his sides, and he leans forward. This is not a stance that I’ve seen before. His energy slams into ours, jolting me. The skin on his hands and arms splits as shards of bone jut out, dripping with the brown sludge that is his blood. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  He dashes straight at us. I try and stay strong, but the closer he gets, the harder it is to stay focused. His energy is overwhelming and nauseating. He vanishes from my sight and senses. Quickly, Valene steps in front of me. The Messenger appears, his boney hand stopping just shy of my face. Red blood drips from where Valene grips his wrist, the shards of his exposed bone cutting into her skin. He smiles at her, and the two of them vanish.

  I can’t see her, but I can feel Valene’s energy swirling around me. A cold burst of wind hits me in the face, pushing me back. It’s filled with the Messenger’s horrid energy. I don’t move a muscle as bursts of the Messenger’s energy continue to pummel me, but Valene’s is always there, acting like a barrier and softening the blows. A minute passes, then Valene appears in front of me, breathing hard and covered in blood. The Messenger appears just feet away in much worse shape than he was previously, chunks of his body and face missing. His arm dangles from his right shoulder by a strand of muscle.

  The Messenger snatches the bits of flesh remaining on his chin and flings them to the floor. He then takes his arm, finds the socket, and jams it back in. “You’re of the master level. It’s a shame your betrothed there is so useless.”

  Betrothed?

  Valene dashes toward the Messenger so fast it seems like she’s flying. She reaches him and drives her fist into his face. The force sends him flying into the barrier with a loud splat. He slides down to the floor, laughing. His face, from the nose to the top of his mouth, is caved in. Thick, brown blood pours from it, and he laps it up. The Messenger stands, leaning forward into his stance. They disappear once again. I continue to feel the bursts of the Messenger’s energy, but now blood splatters onto me with every pass. They appear near me, still fighting, both covered in blood.

  Valene jumps back, forming her daggers as the Messenger rushes her. She throws one right into his chest, then stops and spins left for a back kick. He catches her leg and prepares to break it. She flips forward, swinging her other leg up and into his rotted face, taking off more flesh. He lets her go and counters, punching her in the chest while she’s still in mid-flip.

  Valene manages land on her feet, faces the Messenger, and dashes at him again. His fingers and arms pop as they begin to elongate, almost reaching the ground. He swings his arms around like whips. Valene slides under the initial swing. The dagger in her hand moves in a blur, deflecting the barrage of attacks that are now so quick I can’t see them. She yells as she brings the blade up in an arc, deflecting his swinging arms. She follows up with a backflip-kick to his chin, sending him in the air. Valene throws the other dagger at the Messenger, striking him right next to the first that’s lodged in his chest. She snaps her fingers. A spark of energy connects between the hilts of the two blades. The energy within them grows volatile and explodes in a flash of golden light.

  The Messenger hits the ground hard, his bones crunching and his limbs flopping in unnatural directions. His twisted limbs correct themselves as he flips over and stands back up, unfazed even though the flesh on his chest is seared off all the way to the bone. Dusting himself off, he snaps his head forward. He points his open hand toward me, purple energy building within his palm. I prepare myself to deflect it, but Valene knocks his hand upward just as it launches. The ball slams into the barrier. The explosion nearly knocks me off my feet.

  Valene drives her fist into what’s left of his abdomen with so much force that the entire room shakes from the shockwave. The Messenger falls to his knees, throwing up green, yellow, and brown slime. She follows up with a devastating roundhouse kick to his face, spinning his head one and a half turns. He falls to the ground, motionless.

  Valene stands over his body, watching him with eyes blazing. After observing a prolonged moment of no movement, she takes a shaky breath. Limping, she makes her way over to me, breathing hard and bleeding profusely. I run to her side and catch her before she drops. My hands sting as I lower her to the ground. Looking her over, I see that there are shards of the Messenger’s bone in her skin. Her hands are especially cut up and damaged.

  “Valene?”

  “I’m all right, Hero. I’ve just lost a lot of blood,” she says weakly. “I need to recuperate, that’s all. Mind giving me some energy?”

  “We can do that?” She nods. “Then of course, take as much as you need.” She props up on one arm and kisses me. The intoxicating feeling of our energy transference overtakes me, but it’s nowhere near as intense as normal. I feel how injured and weak she really is. The energy she’s getting from this exchange is nowhere near enough to heal her. I pull away. “We need to get you out of here.” I help her up and drape her arm across my shoulders. The shards dig into me, but it’s bearable. We move to the edge of the circle, but the barrier is still up.

  “Damn,” Valene says.

  “What?”

  “If this barrier is still up, that means…”

  We turn back to see the Messenger standing, turning his head with his mangled hands until it’s straight again. How is he still moving? His bones should be dust. Muscle and tendons begin to stretch and grow, filling the open wounds on his chest, legs, arms, and face. He takes a deep breath. “I didn’t think she would cause me so much damage.” He looks around and then eyes us. “I need a little more.”

  Valene pushes me away, takes a shaky breath, and starts toward him. She only gets two steps before she collapses to the ground. I take her and sit her down close to the edge of the barrier. “Kyle, what are you…doing?”

  “You can’t do anything right now. I’ll fight him.”

  “No, you’ll die. You’re not strong enough yet.”

  “I know, but I’m not going to sit back and do nothing.” I face the Messenger.

  “Then know he’s just like the others. No matter how much you punish them they’ll keep coming. Unless you…”

  “Destroy the heart or mortally wound them. I may have been no help, but I was paying attention.” I walk out to
him. She starts to say something else, but succumbs to a fit of coughing.

  Reaching him, I can see how beat the Messenger is, even though his body has healed to some extent. His face is calm, but he’s shaking like he is in pain. “Oh, so you wish to fight now?” he says, licking the blood from his fingers. “Any last words?”

  My pulse pounds. I manage to swallow my fear and look him right in his milky eyes. “A question, actually. How did you find them?” I ask, pointing to the statuettes.

  He looks around at them. “My lords and lady? I killed a traitor I hadn’t seen in dytics. He just so happened to hold the whereabouts of my hidden masters.”

  “How did you get into his home?”

  He squints at me, cocking his head to the side. “This is very specific questioning, but I’ll entertain it. He had friends—human friends. It was nothing to turn them, have them infiltrate his home, and kill him and his family. A befitting death for one that sided with the Betrayer. But not everyone died that night, did they?”

  I clench my fists, trying to get a grip on my feelings. I’m already afraid, but now sadness and rage bubble up in me, and I tremble uncontrollably. There are so many things that I want to do at this very moment—cry, scream, puke—but most of all, I want to see this thing lying dead at my feet. I ease back into the Lokar stance. “Thanks for indulging me.”

  He glares at me, then smiles. “You’re welcome. Now…”

  He comes at me with crazy speed, but still in my range of perception. Valene’s hit must have really taken a toll on his body. With a quick step back, I catch his hand, the bone exposed, with my right claw, only inches from my heart. Instead of piercing my hand, the bone shards disintegrate when they make contact with my claws. Good to know.

  I follow up with an overpowered haymaker to his left side. My fist digs in deep enough that I feel his ribcage shatter. He coughs up blood and moves back away from me, covering his now concave left side.