by D.E.P.
Silent shadows raced across the forestry as two became one. There were no shadows racing ahead or behind them. There had not been for an awfully long time. Sicarius and Magni were far behind, it seemed. Still, the king continued pushing Invicta to carry on.
“Look back and you will have lost everything!” yelled the king before Invicta. Invicta wrapped his arms around a thin silver tree, looking down the hill on which he climbed. Small patches of silvery grass spread across the terrestrial environment. Not so much as a pebble dropping was heard. While it could be said to have felt peaceful, it was the contrary, for darkness wrapped around ever blade of grass, every branch, and every soul—it was the heart of the discomforting land.
“You have lost no one I tell you! Not all of us are as fortunate as you!” Invicta screamed before the king, the muscles forming around his face pulsing with blood. His brown hair stuck to his forehead while a small amount of sweat provided a gleam to his face.
The king stood before Invicta, dropping his sword to the ground. He pushed his companion with rage, slamming his armory until kicking Invicta across the slanted ground. Invicta fell a few feet away, only looking up at the dark branches above. “Do not tell me what I have not lost! I have lost many sons and daughters. I would do much to trade positions with you. Listen to me! Your brother will be fine, Sicarius does not usually fail,” stated the king rather brusquely.
Invicta continued watching above, petrified in his position until he closed his eyes in trauma. Tightening, he refused to let the tears roll down his cheeks. Opening them, his eyes reddened before he rose to his standing position before the king. “Forgive me,” were his only words.
The king walked back to retrieve his blade, nodding in approval. He did not say anything, for his breathing became much harsher than usual. Grabbing his blade, he reattached it to the thin armory, hiding it behind his white cloak. He continued walking past Invicta who only slightly glared at him as he past. The king’s white cloak seemed the only life in the deathly hallows.
The men had walked a couple of miles it seemed, partially a whole day. They did not eat or drink, for their bodies were able to contain the energy from their previous meal. There were no trees of fruit in the land of death, nor was there life. But the king and his partner continued inward, not knowing what lied over the treacherous hill. With each step, their heart would race, pleading them to stand against a trunk. The trunks that stood up tall acted in a deceitful way with their long thorns that grew at the oddest of places.
The only noise between the two and what lied in the remote distance was pure darkness and the eerie noise beneath their footsteps. Each footstep contributed to an awful sound, as if decayed filthy bones were being crushed. As they neared the surface, they overlooked the distance. The remote land did not look the least pleasing, for more forestry bordered a horrid castle in the middle. Large bats, it seemed like, flew across the dark open sky, letting out agonizing screams of death.
The only light around the dark castle was the mysterious brightness protruding from the surface of a small stream, much like the one the king and Invicta had recently crossed. Invicta sighed with a renewed distress, letting out a deep breath of air. “We’ll get through this. Afterall, Malum is only a memory in this land,” reassured the king while giving a blow to Invicta’s right arm. The king continued to scan around, knowing it would be his only chance. Small patches of orange and red spread across the outskirts—the heated juice of lava glistened with life. In the distance, beyond the forestry, the open landscape, and the mountains, was a small horizon of purple that stretched beyond the eye’s reach. But it was there nonetheless, the only hope for salvation.
Invicta looked back at the king, his brunette hair slowly swaying across his face. “It is time,” stated Fortis. Invicta nodded in approval, knowing they needed to reach the castle to find portals and await Sicarius and Magni. Sicarius would be unable to teleport herself from the clutches of the sirens. They walked steadily down the hillside, nearing the castle’s open doorway. Using a silver axe he had brought with him, the king sliced through the small branches that had overgrown to cover the narrow path leading to death. The blade on the axe became a light purple in color, the brightness overwhelming the soft purple illumination as pieces of wood flew across the king’s mighty face.
“I forgot about your mighty axe. Never needs a sharpening?” stated Invicta as he shook his head, smiling slightly.
The king looked back at his companion. While there was darkness and evil amidst, the two continued their talk as if none of it were occurring. “Indeed. When I was much younger my father gave it into my hands. It has served quite well, able to slice almost all in its path,” answered the king rather modestly.
Not able to slow their pace for the downwards slope, the king and Invicta swiftly ran down the hill and into the mouth of the skull. A small pond of rich lava stood at the side—only a glimpse of what was before them. Invicta walked childishly toward the gleaming substance, slowly implanting his sword in the thick liquid. The juice sprang up, inching forward toward the hands that held the elemental weapon. Quickly, Invicta lifted his sword, causing drops of gleaming gold to rise into the air. He ran towards the walking king, only stopping to clean his sword on the small patches of black grass. The king only grimaced, knowing what had happened.
“Curiosity can end your life,” smirked the king, glaring at Invicta’s awestruck face.
“Curiosity can also save it,” replied Invicta, forming a small smile of dominance.
The king only narrowed his eyes, not stating any more than the evitable. He only looked up at the figure producing a gigantic shadow in the already darkened land—the castle of Malum. The castle was much like the ones in which witches, vampires, and ghosts dwell in. Magnificent to every piece of silvery wood, the castle stood tall and bold. Stretched up, the towers rose high, having a rounded pyramid for a defined roof. While it seemed the building would be magnificent to live in, it was quite eroding as well. Dark spots bordered the wood, pieces of black glass spread across the exterior with only broken shutters lying astray. In the distance, bats slowly flew their way into the small opening that made the decomposition of the roofs. Quite mysteriously, a purple glow occurred in one of the rooms above—something the king had not expected.
The king pointed up toward the room, Invicta following the king’s gaze. “What is it? Can it be a portal?” questioned Invicta, frowning.
“That it may. But for there to be a portal in use, someone has to have used it,” asserted the king as he walked towards the closed doorway.
Invicta continued staring until the purple light slowly disappeared. Noticing the king distancing himself towards the doorway, Invicta quickly ran towards him. He put his arm around the king’s neck, pulling Fortis away. “Don’t you see someone is lurking above?” questioned Invicta while the king struggled to go forward. Knowing the king would only dominate him, Invicta relaxed his muscles to allow the king to continue his pace.
“I believe my brother is attempting to have Malum return,” the king stated, walking angrily towards the large black doors with engravings of serpents entrenched in fire. Lifting up his hands to pull back his white sleeves, the king pushed back the black doors until they slammed strongly against the interior walls. The king was in for a surprise; he pursued revenge.
Pushing his body against the wall, he motioned Invicta to do the same on the opposite side. The king scanned the room, frowning at any odd shadow that moved. Dirty curtains bordered the broken windows, fluttering violently with the odd wind. Two open stairways met at the top by which a statue of Malum rose high and still. The open room contained several black pillars holding up the magnificently engraved ceiling. While the place was filthy, dirt sprawled in every place the eyes could see, one could assume the castle to be much more magnificent than what shown before him or her.
Still, the king looked at his surroundings, not trusting his senses. Believing the only alternative was to climb the stairway, he slowly stepped onto t
he first step. Invicta stared as Fortis laid his foot upon the second step, watching as the stair creaked before having the foot sink into the decomposed wood. Shrieking silently, the king looked behind in annoyance, only to be received with a silent laugh.
Slowly the king walked up the right staircase, careful not to step on a decomposed piece once more. Abnormally large cobwebs stretched far against the ample walls, especially in the corners where overly large tunnels of death lied. Still the king proceeded, scanning the large hallway. He knew the room lied on the right side. Slowly he retrieved his sword, laying it a few feet ahead of his frowning face. Each step closer made the king’s heart race, causing blood to flow around his muscular body. Standing against the wall that formed the outskirts of the room, the king looked at a cracked mirror on the opposite wall. The mirror, being as dusty as the castle itself, reflected a dark shadow moving towards the doorway of the room.
The king heard deep sighs, as the figure slowly stumbled, as if drugged by a plant’s venom. As he neared, the king stood his stance, blocking the doorway. Quickly he drew her left arm around the figure before posing his spade in a threatening manner against the figurine’s frightened face. The figure let out a shrill scream.
“Did you kill him yet?” asked Invicta sarcastically, knowing that the king was beyond capable of forming such an awful sound.
“Not at all,” answered the king as he stared at the eyes of the figure before him.
“Well if that wasn’t his dying scream, I wonder how horrible his yells of death would be. I’m coming up,” stated Invicta as he quickly stepped onto the right staircase, noticing the awfully large snake skins that bordered the steps. He frowned, slightly perplexed, but continued onward nonetheless.
Nearing the room, Invicta looked ahead, noticing the velvet carpets that destined the long hallway. He noticed rusty spiraled staircases leading to the rooms above. It was difficult to imagine how the castle had looked in its earlier days. Still, Invicta strolled to the room in which the king held his prey. Knowing the man was not Furtim, Invicta let out a long sigh, for he did not have the energy nor the will to see blood sprawled across the dirty floor.
“Let him go, my king. He is no threat, for he is a leader in your army,” stated Invicta as he crossed his arms before he rested his back on the dusty walls. The man let out three gasps of air, for the sword nearly prevented his breathing as he fell to the ground in a kneeling position in front of his king.
“I know. What have you to be doing up here?” questioned the king deliberately. The king thought it odd that one of his men would wander from his known land, especially to the land of Malum. The man continued coughing as he positioned his hands on the ground. Thick green mucus shot from the man’s mouth and onto the ground. The light green mucus quickly demolished the sand surrounding it, bubbling with a sudden rage.
“At least we found a way to cleanse the floors,” smirked Invicta. Fortis did not let out any sign of laughter as he continued frowning upon the man in an act of hatred.
Lifting up his hand, the strange man motioned to speak before he rose to the king’s height. The thin grey cape that attached to the man’s lean back moved violently behind him. “If I may so speak, it was not my intention to find you so easily. I deserve your acts of hatred towards me, for I had betrayed you without your knowing,” stated the man before bowing down at the king in disgrace.
Fortis positioned his right fist under his neck in sudden thought, analyzing the situation in his own standards. “I know my brother to be ruthless, this is the only reason why you may find favor in my eyes,” answered the king, his eyes not enraged as before. The king had much to question and the man had much to say.
“I am Proditor, your servant,” answered the man humbly as he lifted his head without showing any signs of expression. Proditor looked at where the king’s vision had drifted, knowing what he searched for. “The portals?”
The three of them moved most of the clutter beneath the stairway, providing an open area in which to relax upon. Noticing there was no fireplace downstairs, the king used the remote pieces of worthless wood to compose a pile in which the fire would so cunningly rest upon. Moving both his hands against each other, the king blew against them to provide a gleaming blue flame. The flame was not merely magic; it was an anatomical feature the inhabitants of the land had conceived in the past history. The three lay on the ground, not feeling the need to cleanse the sand off the worthless seats that stood clumsily in the rooms primed with gold.
Noticing Fortis’s and Invicta’s sudden glare, Proditor took a sip from a mysterious dark purple bottle before explaining the chapter they had missed. He told of the king’s brother taking over the lands and how he was able to even dismiss the hope the sky had provided through the years with a tint of dark ink. “He went into the Vines of Fatum, finding an odd mixture to create morlutums. This is not all he found, for he found a two-headed serpent by which he has befriended.”
“Was the serpent golden?” questioned the king in mystery.
“Before it exposed its mighty fangs at me, I did notice a slight golden tone to its scales. Furtim believes I am dead. He has sent the morlutums to bring your head to the inhabitants,” answered Proditor as he set the bottle to his side, “Luckily the vines provided me with an antidote to heal me of the serpent’s bite. If it were not so, there would be no one to warn my majesty.”
The king asserted, laying his hand atop the hilt of his sword. “What has become of my queen and daughters?”
“That I cannot say,” stated Proditor sadly as he moved his head downward, not wanting to see into the eyes of his king, “He said she was dead.”
Fortis looked upon the ground as well, “That is what he believes. She is incapable of death.”
Proditor did not understand the king’s words, believing it was an act of in denial. Changing the subject that caused a strong silence, Proditor explained the portals. “Furtim knows of the portals, but is unready to go through them. He has disguised them as objects in your castle. Knowing he was in a far room, I gave the slightest touch to a golden goblet, sinking myself into the cup and reappearing where I stand.”
The king frowned, not understanding how the portals have existed through time. “The portals, were they not destroyed?” asked the king. He had pondered on the ideas, not knowing for certain if a few were spared.
“There are still many secrets the land holds. The portals are one of them,” stated Proditor, “Furtim plans to raise Malum to power and he will achieve it, that I am sure.”
The king asserted, “The forestry prolongs our desires. We are closer than we think. Will the portal not work?”
“Only if there is another in the room. There are entrances and exit portals of course.You can only go through one portal and appear on the other side, not the other way around. Furtim contains the primary portals, missing only one.”
Suddenly there were wails in the air. They were not screams from the odd black bats that flew across the greyish sky. They were not yells of victory or even sadness. They were wails of gnashing of teeth, petrifying the king in his position as he analyzed the situation.
“The morlutums are here, my king. You are the only one they seek,” stated Proditor as he stared at the door in front.
The king stood up, moving towards the giant doors. He did not want to be protected, for he too had a spade to attack the monsters. Feeling the dirty texture on the sides of both doors, Fortis observed the outskirts. One of the monsters appeared greener than the clouds of dust behind it. Soon the other morlutums began to form, clambering down the small hill viciously to their prey. As the beasts’ jaws opened, large thick canines bordered the lower lip made of pure mud. A thick cluster of saliva failed to stay in the mouths of the beasts as it raced outwards, flying into the wind around.
The king quickly closed the doors, lifting up a sturdy piece of wood to slide into the circular handles of the door. Looking above, the king saw a large chandelier, as dusty as it was. The smal
l red crystals that bordered the chandelier dimly gleamed before a bundle of thin sticks flew atop of them. Knowing what the king had in mind, Proditor picked up larger pieces of wood, throwing it in the air in such a way that it would land neatly above the rest. “Light the sticks!” commanded the king before looking into the small crack in the door. The creatures were nowhere to be seen. Yet the coarse breathing of the creatures could not be ignored. Faster they became! Louder they became! Until it could be said they were next to the king and his trustees.
Unexpectedly, a mouth gaped before the king’s vibrant eyes in an attempt to knock the king from the door. The eyes of the creatures shown malevolently, eyes that had rarely been seen in any individual—the eyes of death. The claws of the creatures scraped against the door, causing a sharp sound to form as the doors eased to exist. “Run up, we shall split up!” ordered Fortis.
“Is that a wise decision?” questioned Invicta with a stern expression.
“It is a decision I have made. Do as I command. They will be in search of me. If they should kill me, grab the sack I find so dear,” yelled the king once again.
The creatures, exasperated, reached their sharp crusty nails into the cracks of the door, breaking it apart in once swift movement of the fingers. Standing in front of the doorway, the shrill beasts scanned the room, not noting the fire that had been so carefully made up above. Aiming at the chandelier, the king took only three movements of his hand to throw the axe towards the jeweled arrangement. There were no chains that leveled the chandelier in its place, for it floated in midair. But the power was far weaker than the weapon that slammed obnoxiously into its heart. The axe’s purple light returned swiftly towards the king as Fortis’s hand reached out for the handle. The creatures looked above, only then realizing the foolishness of their duty. The chandelier did not stop for the creatures to surpass the blow, however. The blue fire seeped out from within the logs, flying into a more suitable environment for fire—the beasts’ flesh.
But still the creatures did not die. The fire merely prolonged the death of the king and his followers as they raced across the hall towards the different rooms composing the degrading castle. The fire had only agitated the creatures further, causing them to rub their meaningless eyes in fury as they climbed the sides of the walls with ease. They pushed off the stone walls towards the opposite walls, climbing ever so cunningly towards their enemies, they too spreading out. The creatures looked much like skeletons, except for the dirt and weeds that made up the despised creatures of doom.
Proditor raced into the room by which contained a staircase leading downstairs, his legs making their way towards salvation. The room was quite dark, only a small flame of light springing out of the palm of Proditor’s hand. Cupping his hands, Proditor slowly moved around the room, noticing spider webs stretched out at the corners. The web’s lining was thick like a whip and viscous like the sap from a mulberry. Proditor gently touched the mucus underlining the web’s lining, causing the web to quiver ever so slightly. He looked around himself, searching for the makers of such an art piece.
The only objects he saw were black spheres that bordered the walls on long silver stands. Frowning, Proditor looked upon the spheres, his silent stare causing it to bear light. “Oh my, what have I done!” yelled Proditor to himself, his frown of confusion transforming into a frown of horror. Still, Proditor moved closer towards the sphere, knowing they contained the history of what was and what might become. He noticed a man with vibrant green eyes like himself standing in a wide room with soldiers gathering around. The man had a mask terrifying in form. His eyes narrowed as he walked up towards a small man to the side of him. Lifting up his red sword, Malum sunk his blade into the man’s body. Proditor let out a deep gasp, not noticing his hands were already around the strange sphere. Looking at his own body, he stared in fear as golden blood spilled from his head.
Proditor quickly let go of the sphere, causing it to fall violently onto the ground. The sphere did not fall. It did not break. It did not let out even the softest of a noise. Instead, the spehere’s knowledge broke out of black figure, causing Proditor to grasp his head in sudden pain. His eyes began sinking into his bold head while he moved his fingers vigorously along the surface of his skull. Hair began dropping from his head, flakes of skin falling silently on the ground as he began to scrape his own body.
But one of the creatures had already appeared in the room. It smelled the man while the man did not notice them. He was busy digging his nails into his skull in an attempt to take out his brain without his knowledge. He turned slightly towards the creature as fresh golden blood overfilled the creature’s snout. It raced through the floor in anticipation, for the blood dripped carefully onto the dark ground. Pushing the man aside, the brown monster made of primarily mud knelt down to take his feed. Proditor lied a few feet from the distracted beast, seemingly unconscious as his head spilled the sweet golden juice.
The king raced through the long passageway, making several turns before reaching a golden staircase, as rusty as it seemed to be. Stepping ever so slightly, as to not force the monsters to pursue him, the king approached the second floor of the castle. Old paintings lined the interior walls, many of which moved, having been painted entirely with magic. Most of the faces were of Malum lifting up heads of torture, or slicing through the hearts of his enemies. The king frowned, scarcely seeing the paintings as he raced forward, his white cloak lightly flapping behind him. The picture frames filled with blood as the red droplets did not fail to smear against the pale walls. It was an odd sight, one that filled a soul with death.
The faces stared at the king as if knowing and hoping for his death. Only a shadow lurked behind him. The king looked to his side, able to see the moving body that approached him. It was not a beast; it was muscular man, one with blue armory. The king turned fully around, knowing who the strange man that approached him was. His eyes were not the same, nor was his face, for he had been bitten.
“Where are the others?” demanded the king without comforting the suffering individual before him.
“Why do you ask so suddenly? They were only sirens I tell you! I have pondered on this for a while. While I killed some, I feel that sirens contain the full power,” stated Magni with a strange course voice that caused the king’s blood to boil.
Frowning angrily, the king turned away from Magni, proceeding towards the hallway. The monsters were nowhere to be found. Or was it the king the one to be found? Still the king took each step with anger as he strode through the faded red carpet. “What have you become?” The king took only one glance at Magni, seeing the sharply exposed teeth. Thin as they were, they were sharp as any needle, able to easily strip the skin that surfaced the muscle of any inhabitant.
At the corner of his eye, however, the king also saw a struggling Magni, as if two powers fought over his body. Magni stumbled unexpectedly, his face showing deep suffering. Frowning, Magni’s expression seemed one of disgust. “He..help me,” he whispered as he fell onto the ground. His teeth that were once sharp and thin, transformed into the teeth of a vampire. His eyes shown irritated as they lay awake on the sleeping body.
The king tightened his eyes in exasperation and dread. He knew the man was struggling. Sicarius must have bitten him as a last resort to save him, the king had thought. His heart would need to be withdrawn from his body.
The king held the body to his side, lightly dragging Magni onto a small velvet bed rest along the side of the hallway. Violently dusting the small bed, the king created a cloud of profound dust that surrounded the open hallway. Light from the broken windows allowed a dark grey light to ease its way into the room. “Rest, Magni,” the king whispered into Magni’s ear before Magni’s widened eyes exposed the vibrant blue gems.
Magni swiftly lifted up his head to the king’s height, screaming with great might until he slowly returned to his resting position. The king, slightly bewildered by the event, looked towards the slobber that dropped from above. He wiped the sap
from his shoulders, bringing his hand to his face. Quickly, he looked above in time to see the figure relax its grasp on the ceiling and drop to the ground. Bringing his sword upwards, the king easily protruded the blade into the chest of the beast and out of the back where its spikes were attached.
The beast did not let out either a yell or a movement of pain. Stretching its neck from its right side to its left side, the monster strongly pushed its body from the sword’s grasp. The creature looked before the king. Being slightly taller than Fortis, the beast took a dominating stance. The body seemed similar to any inhabitant’s in the land except for the odd texture around its body and the dreadful head that stared eerily to the king’s soul. It was a living skull, only covered with the green slime of death.
The creature dug into its flesh, exposing a scythe. Slowly, the scythe grew, standing a few inches above the monster that held it. The king continued striking his sword against the creature, the weeds and dirt quickly filling the gaps that had been tampered with. With each injury the king attempted to make, the layers of deathly greenery made itself far thicker than the previous time. The beast stood still and tall, as if wanting to be hit, for it grew more powerful than before. Finally, the scythe withdrew its steady stance, being used to swipe the king’s head.
“Oh my! My king!” yelled Magni as he dreamily stared as the king’s head rolled away from his view. The king’s body appeared headless as it knelt before the beast. Quickly, Magni ran forward, tearing as he stumbled against the walls. He climbed downstairs, opening the clear doors alongside the golden staircase. His expression was one of horror and dread as he walked away from the happening and into the profound darkness that consumed the shadow lurking down the hill to the side.
The shadow, stout, yet strong, raced across the terrestrial environment on all fours. Its spotted body, camouflaging with the greyish surroundings, stepped lightly against the powdery surface, careful not to fall into the lava at its sides. A deep breathing was heard as the beast briskly ran towards Magni. Magni stared at the distance, his vision temporarily blurred. All he felt was an arm grab his body; he disappeared.
Invicta had hid inside a dark room, his body consumed by the darkness on one half of the interior. He watched with stealthy eyes as one of the creatures walked along the outskirts of the room. It quickly peered inside, only seeing the tattered sheets sway with the strong breeze. Invicta looked at the creature with disgust as it continued moving towards the stairs.
Invicta, feeling that the creature had left his presence, walked along the darkest side of the wall. He carefully went down the stairs, careful not to touch the rusty railings that creaked with the slightest movement. However, as he stepped onto the dim floor, he noticed the creature was following his path, only above. He ran with great might, his face becoming golden as he stepped underneath the immense stairway. Standing in front of a black pillar, Invicta faced the direction in which he came from. He stood with his right arm extended, containing his prime weapon. He knew the beast was beneath the shadows. It was only teasing him.
The shadow to his left side jumped towards him. Invicta was far quicker than the beast thought. The blade easily sunk into the thin flesh of the morlutum. Much like the king, Invicta realized the beast was undefeatable. The beast pushed onto Invicta’s muscular body, causing him to crash onto a black pillar. As Invicta slid down, the beast grabbed him by the neck, lifting him up above. The man formed of mud spoke. A rather large beetle moved out of the beast’s body, crawling slightly towards the right dark eye. The beetle, a pure black, contained a long horn with a sharp point. It dug into the eye of the creature, inching forward and ultimately disappearing where it had once been.
Invicta did not understand the language the creature spoke in. It was one of anger, Invicta was certain of. The throat of the monster throbbed with rage as greenish saliva spat from the sides of its mouth. Invicta kicked the beast with his legs, causing the morlutum to hit the pillar in front. Quickly, Invicta ran forward towards the greenery before him. The foliage consumed the exterior part of the castle where lava was incapable of overpowering. Invicta stood before the clear door, not quite ready to dive into the overly large plants in the outdoors—it was much different from the plants in the land he used to know. However, seeing the reflection of the beast coming towards him, Invicta knew it was his only hope. Still he stood, lowering himself towards the ground just in time for the beast to somersault in the air and break the glass before him.
Invicta grabbed his sword that had been thrown to his side. He gave only one slash of his spade, hardly cutting off the beast’s head before leaping over it. The small weeds that grew beneath the beast’s feet wrapped around Invicta’s ankles in an attempt of slowing him down. Still he proceeded, tugging hard to rid of the plant’s mighty grasp.
Proditor opened his eyes, seeing a puddle of golden blood before him. He did not feel any pain, for he knew what pain was. The knowledge that had already been trapped inside his head caused him to have a blurred vision. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t see. All he could do was hear the monster to his side eating at his blood. Staggering, Proditor slowly made his way towards the light—the entrance of the room. He held his head with calamity in an attempt to ease the running of the golden substance. The creature did not move, its eyes only glaring at its odd reward.
Magni’s head raced close to the ground as the hooded inhabitant placed a familiar blade against his neck. “Does this look familiar?” stated the hooded figure. Only a slight tone of paleness was exposed from beneath the hood as the stranger talked.
“Of course. It’s not the first time I’ve been in this situation,” answered Magni sarcastically, “Except I’ve never had my head almost scrape the ground.” Magni looked ahead, seeing a medium sized boulder to his side as his head nearly touched the grains of sand below the racing beast.
“Well there is a first time for everything is there not? Just today actually, I’ve been stoned. Yet here I am,” stated the figure, pulling back the hood that had camouflaged her face with the light darkness. It was Sicarius. Magni stared onto her eyes, already knowing it to be her. The boulder only inches away, caused Magni’s face to drown with perspiration as he continued staring at it. He wondered if Sicarius would do such a thing. He had stoned her and now she seeked revenge with a stone. Still, she glared at him with deep anger. She did not see the boulder, only the reflection of fear from Magni’s blue eyes. She lifted him up violently, in time for the small boulder to race past. It only avoided Magni by a few inches. Sicarius lifted her hand up, “Stop!” she yelled as her grip tightened.
The beast on which she laid upon came to a halt. Sicarius, smiling wickedly herself, released her grip on Magni’s neck. She watched patiently as he soared through the air until landing into the long flimsy stems making up the back of the castle.
Sicarius stepped off of the giant beast. The beast stood still, only watching as Sicarius briskly walked towards Magni’s limp body. She lifted him up into the air as Magni’s neck refused to stand stiff—he was unconscious. Taking her dagger, she spun it between her fingers in deep thought. Before using her dagger, she opened Magni’s eyelids, seeing the vibrancy they contained. She nodded, “Come here. Why do you continue staring?”
Glacies walked from the shadows, her eyes as vibrant as Magni’s. She moved her fingers between two small holes on her neck, only glaring at the bluish blood. The blood was no longer as blue, for it slowly began to take the appearance of a silver substance.
Sicarius looked up, “Steady his body.”
Glacies frowned, “Do I have to help you in everything?” Sicarius did not reply. She merely motioned towards the stiff arms of Magni.
Glacies knelt down, her teal dress causing a steady glow on the ground. She grabbed Magni’s limp arms, holding them forcefully downwards. “You know, he’s not even awake.”
“Do what I say,” stated Sicarius as she rubbed her own scarred arm. A deep purple scar ran from her shoulder to the beginning of her
hand. The crevice was rather deep as a small amount of purple puss radiated out from time to time. Still, it had a metallic appeal to it, something that seemed quite fascinating in a warrior.
Sicarius retrieved the weapon she had laid. Silently, she lifted it up, causing the blue light to move throughout the odd weapon. She positioned her dagger so the sharp point faced Magni’s chest. Lifting up her other blade in a similar manner, Sicarius lowered both of them towards the heart that lay beating violently. Sicarius licked her lips in frustration, cutting a medium-sized cut downwards to the source of life. She threw both her daggers downwards, causing them to sink into the grey ground as she slowly reached into Magni’s body. She lightly squeezed, tightening her face in pain for she knew what would come after. Magni’s body throbbed—it began moving violently from side to side involuntarily.
“Get a good grip, will you!?” screamed Sicarius at a timid Glacies.
“It’s easier getting the bloody heart!” yelled Glacies back. She peered as Sicarius formed her hands along the pumping heart, squeezing until getting a good grip. Sicarius quickly glanced at Glacies before pulling hard. A thin vein, stubborn as it was, created a tension. Magni moved more violently, forming gestures of deep pain while his eyes tightly closed. Sicarius swiftly pulled one of her blades out from beneath the ground, slashing only once to rid of the strong attachment. Magni’s eyes widened, the vibrant color showed the deep suffering before closing as his head fell to the ground.
“That’s not going to happen to me, is it?” questioned Glacies. Sicarius had bitten her as part of their agreement. Because of the bite, a bond was formed in which memories intertwined. Because of this, Glacies did not have to think twice before speaking the language Sicarius was more predominant in.
Breathing heavily, Sicarius’s mouth laid half ways open. She turned towards Glacies, smiling with pride. “You wanted to become part vampire, did you not?”
Glacies stared wide-eyed with deep regret. “You did not say any of this would happen! I feel fine. I have not heard of such a thing as vampires cutting their hearts out!” stated Glacies. She said her statement softly until her anger rose far more powerful than her words.
“You did not ask. It is vital I take out your heart, for if I don’t, you will become the monster the disease wants you to be,” answered Sicarius in a serious manner as she moved her hands in a circular position to create a small purple fire. She took her blade, causing it to shine as it was placed above the small flickering blazes. The purple flames wrapped around the blade, causing it to turn into a darker color until releasing a small amount of smoke.
“Why couldn’t I have taken out my own heart as a siren?” questioned the young girl in a desperate manner.
Sicarius did not lift up her head as she lowered the heated blade to Magni’s sculpted chest. His chest did not have the same appearance; silver blood smeared across the thick skin like waves in a steady stream. “Because you were born like that,” said Sicarius, “A disease cannot be ridden if it has been a part of you.” Sicarius knelt down before the girl, “It was not your fault.
Sicarius continued spreading her blade onto the man’s chest while having Glacies close the opening she had cut. Sicarius held the heart upwards in her left hand as her right hand worked the enflamed blade across the cut. Obediently, both sides of the cut bonded to end the flow of blood. Sicarius lowered her head, having her short pitch black hair hide her face. Lifting her head upwards, Sicarius had only a glint of a silver substance shine at the sides of her mouth. She turned towards a staring Glacies. Following her sight to Magni’s clean chest, Sicarius frowned. “You haven’t seen nothing yet!” Sicarius screamed. Glacies, bewildered, widened her stare as she saw the deep cut on Sicarius’s arm become leveled with the skin. No longer was there a deep groove, only the purple glaze that formed the scar.
Taking her blades out, Sicarius lifted them upwards as she stood up and walked towards the back doors of the palace. Sicarius brought the beating heart with her. Glacies, reluctant at first, bestowed her bow before walking slowly behind Sicarius. Sicarius looked behind her, smiling evilly, “Your time is coming rather soon I see.” The canines grew longer in the moist mouth of Sicarius. Glacies only looked upwards, her vision already blurring before she fell to the ground. Only a whistle was heard, the calling of the creature Sicarius had befriended.
Proditor staggered down the stairway, motioning his body towards the doorway leading towards the side of the castle. Before stepping towards the outdoors, one of the morlutums leapt from the wall to block the bleeding man from proceeding. “You!” yelled Proditor in a dominating stance, deliberately ignoring the drops of blood that trailed his face. The beast grabbed at Proditor, twisting his back towards the floor. Proditor landed on his arms in a corner where the walls met.
Proditor quickly rose up, bringing his sword in front of him. The edge of the sword contained a light metallic green color as it raced towards the creature’s head. Spinning once to gain velocity, Proditor sliced into the thick neck of the creature with ease. Smiling, Proditor walked out of the doorway, leaving the head besides the headless body to the right. The mud forming the head continued moving, bugs digging their way out. Promptly, the base of the skull grew long staggering claws, enabling the skull to reach the body with facility.
Proditor did not have time to notice the creature forming its body once again. He simply attempted to walk forward, not wanting to deal with the beast in his weak stance. His sword dragged behind him as he paced himself forward. The shadows before him did not look comforting as his hearing began to drift off and his brain began to fail him.
Sicarius quickly cut out the heart of the child with the same swiftness she had used on Magni’s throbbing object of life. The girl’s eyes laid awake, as if already dead. She was not dead, however, for the new disease enabled her to live without the heart’s steady beat. Taking out a silver bag from the side of the furry creature she had called upon, she brought out two chests. Tightening her eyes for a second time, she hoped she did not need to do the same act once more. The coolness of the blood along her teeth felt enchanting as she moved it throughout her mouth with her obedient tongue. She enjoyed the touch of blood, especially when fresh.
Staring in the distance, she smiled before whispering into one of the overly large and erect ears of the giant wolf. As if asserting, the beast leapt into the air, racing with swiftness towards the falling object ahead. Sicarius in the meantime moved towards Magni whom had already rose up to see a racing Sicarius. Magni grabbed a hold of Sicarius, causing her body to nearly fall onto the ground. Lifting her arm upwards, Magni stared into the eyes of a raging face. Nearly snickering, Magni moved his lips forward as a shadow approached.
Magni’s body was pushed forward into the air once again. The light bluish beast lifted its head in disapproval before a smiling Sicarius. Smearing the blood along her reflected armory, Sicarius turned towards the body that had willingly held onto the small metal saddle. “Proditor!” stated Sicarius viciously. It is not certain whether she said it in a threatening manner or whether she stated it with great power. Nevertheless, Sicarius bit her lip in almost deep regret, for it was a long lost cousin of hers.
Sicarius only stared at the body, not attending to the deep breathing or the blood that trailed along his head. She only lifted her blade, preventing a long sword from positioning against her neck in a threatening manner. “Your shadow gave you away,” glared Sicarius as she continued eyeing Proditor. Magni lowered his sword, unable to trick Sicarius. Finally, Sicarius stored the caskets containing the hearts into her metal bag. The beast, much like a wolf, carried the beating forms of life.
Promptly, Sicarius took out a purple leaf that vibrated with the slightest touch. Quickly, she laid it onto the head of Proditor as the blood soaked it profoundly. Still yet, the leaf began vibrating violently, causing the blood to transform into the skin it once was. Proditor gave a few coarse coughs, causing blood to drip from the edges of his mouth—the only remai
ns of the cut that had once been. Sicarius frowned, studying the small scar left behind. She knew of the man’s immense knowledge, but kept silent as she walked away.
“There is much to do! Don’t you see those malevolent creatures jumping from one corner to the next? They seek the king, I presume…”
Magni cut Sicarius off before she could finish her sentence of rage. “The king is dead. It is all my fault. I awoke to the bloody head that rolled past me!” he shrieked with sudden depression.
Sicarius turned around, placing her pale hand on Magni’s shoulders while her eyes glowed a vibrant blue. “Do not believe what you once saw. It was merely a side effect of the disease.” She briskly turned around, running at a fast pace towards the building she had seen the king go into from afar. “I saw your brother in the midst of the weeds.” And she was gone, blending in with the interior darkness.
She scanned the room, noticing the rusty staircase at her side—the only object that seemed to gleam in the deathly hollows. Suddenly a screech of the floor was heard. Sicarius quickly turned to her side, positioning her vital daggers in front of her. She was not afraid; she was merely enjoying the suspense of killing as her fangs grew with the sudden thought. As she swiftly, but quietly, turned around on the wall, her cloak flew like a bat’s wing. She had found her primate. She eased forward, striking the small shadow. Silver blood dripped from her blade as she saw innocent eyes spread in horror.
The small weed that grew along his armory was the least of Invicta’s problems. The man itself made of weeds and dirt lurked for his soul. Quite strikingly, it appeared as if the long plants formed a maze, for nicely formed hedges with mighty thorns bordered the cluttered path in a peculiar way. While the path seemed to go onward in a straight position, the dark greenery would fool Invicta and turn the other way. Purple flowers with bright petals sprang in random areas, causing the ground to shake before the stem protruded outwards. A light stench of rotten meat flowed through the air, causing Invicta to cringe his nose in disgust.
Onward he went, until he heard a noise unlike any other. He was certain it would be the monster he had wished to disappear. In fact it was the beast he dreaded. The tall figure was held in a limp position in the darkness, bugs crawling in and out of the body as they pleased. Invicta smiled as he slowly walked toward his enemy in confusion. The dry leaves crushed smoothly under the surface of his metal feet—the only noise heard except for the nuisance the bugs’ wings produced. The mouth of the beast lay open, allowing a purple centipede to crawl out. It moved its antennas before crawling over the right side of the beast’s curled lip.
Invicta lowered his head, studying the death of the individual whom had not died with the slash of his weapon. The morlutum hadn’t even slightly transformed into the golden element Invicta’s sword was destined to accomplish. But the beast’s eyes only glared at Invicta as it began to expose its filed teeth. It began lifting its head in an attempt to escape from the clutches it was in. But the beast went nowhere.
Invicta merely smiled, not fully comprehending the situation. Quite promptly the body was lifted into the air; clumps of the weeds making up the monster fell to its destined residence—on the ground. Invicta stared in horror as the darkness that seemed to consume his enemy was in fact an enormous plant. Swiftly, the plant grew, its thin stem extending upward.
Making a shrieking noise, the plant’s flower opened its mouth to expose its set of sharp daggers. The flower head was approximately two feet in length and in the shape of a rounded cone. The different petals making up the exterior of the carnivorous flower contained green and red stripes racing down the smooth surface. The teeth were the most breathtaking, for they moved with such swiftness along the body.
Invicta ran backwards, knowing the flower that had saved him would also end his life. The plant did not think, it merely acted upon instincts. These instincts would not be the base of Invicta’s survival. The plant, noticing Invicta’s quick departure, threw the remains of the maddened beast into the air, having a small floret catch the fragments as the bud raced for another primate. Invicta looked towards his back, seeing the head of the flower easing forward around the several branches in its path. As a last resort, the plant elevated its roots, causing the ground to shake with small grains of thick sand.
“Ugh!” Invicta yelled under his breath as a large green root sprang from the surface in front of him. Without eyes guiding its path, the thick root knocked Invicta from his feet, causing the slightly blue color of metal to disappear into the nearby bushes. The dark purple bushes did not serve as a cushion, for sharp red stems protruded outward. A thick sap bubbled centrifugally and onto Invicta’s reflective armory as he struggled to come off the slimy surface. Still, he was stuck while the plant’s head became visible before him. “How long is that bloody stem?” he yelled with narrow eyes. There was no response as a swift movement of a sword cut the stems before Invicta.
The stems quickly squealed before lowering beneath the shorter stems of the bush. Invicta promptly rose to his feet to meet his savior. He stared into the glowing blue eyes, knowing that his brother was not whom he had once been.
“She bit you didn’t she?” Invicta questioned suddenly. He lowered his body as the carnivorous plant’s stem shot outwards towards him. Invicta quickly ran to the side while his younger brother followed him.
With deep breaths, Magni managed to speak, “Sicarius knew what was best for me.”
Invicta merely looked back with a frown of divine hatred. “She has transformed you into something you aren’t and still you find love for her! Don’t you see the beast she wants you to be? My own brother of blood has transformed into the beast he would have slain in his true mind!”
Magni looked behind, knowing the outstretched flower seeked their blood. It did not matter how far they ran, the plant’s stem seemed endless in the view of Magni. The pod shrieked with frustration, racing past the thick trees and other foliage in its path. The exposed teeth of the divine figure only caused Invicta and Magni to race at a higher speed away from what their fate would be if they stopped.
“Maybe I would have been dead if it weren’t her cause, even worst if I would have been an addition to the family of sirens. Trust me on this, dear brother,” answered Magni with a calm voice despite the situation.
“Run to your right side and stand behind the golden tree!” yelled Invicta without a response. Magni neared the golden object, quick to abide to his brother’s command. The tree provided a light glow to the surrounding, a light source of deep regret. The tree itself contained bare branches that dropped like claws before the grey floor. Still, small specks of seeds glowed around the steady tree, as if a part of it. The seeds floated in the air, moving steadily like the jelly fish in a human dominion. While the plant could not see, it sensed the light and the body within.
Invicta looked towards Magni before stating, “I will trust you this once.”
Magni lifted his right eyebrow, not expecting his brother to change his mind so quickly, for his heart was always hardened in deep stubbornness. They both glared at the screaming figure before them, hiding behind the trees for protection. The head of the plant lurked onward, slowly creeping to the sides of the trees. Its head was slightly visible on the sides as it steadily moved forward with mouth agape. A slight green mucous drained from the sides, as if the bud salivated for its primates’ blood. Invicta lifted up a clump of grass, having the grey dirt silently fall to the ground. Steadying his arm, he threw it forward. The clump of grass elevated, causing the plant to quickly shoot for the moving object. Magni sprang forward, turning his body in a swift movement to slash the beast at its throat.
Sicarius softly covered her opened mouth as she stared at the drips of silver blood that slowly dripped to the side of the slashed neck. Glacies widened her eyes all the more. Slowly, she changed her expression of deep wickedness as her smile widened with calamity. She pushed the small blade away from her view before walking in front of Sicarius. “You need to be a
bit careful with that blade of yours,” she spoke. Her eyes glowed a bright aqua blue in the darkness. “I may be your only hope.”
Sicarius cringed her nose in thought, not understanding the girl’s wordings. She shook her head, not finding Glacies’s expression important. Glacies lifted her fingers, soothingly feeling the thin cut along her neck and left shoulder. Gingerly, she lifted her two upright fingers, sucking on the sweet liquid. “As you know, I am part of your kind as well.”
“Of course. You are immortal,” asserted Sicarius as she followed the shadow before her. They quickly stepped upon the creaking stairs until walking before the endless hallway. The red velvet carpet seemed rewarding if the green mucous did not drip from the ceiling above.
“How do you kill a vampire anyways?” questioned Glacies with an expression of deep thought. She moved the small droplet of blood between her upright fingers as she spoke.
“That is a secret for my kind,” answered Sicarius as she quickly walked ahead of Glacies, nearing the golden staircase.
“I am one of your kind!” yelled Glacies silently, her voice escalating with deep frustration.
“That you are. A vicious one at that,” stated Sicarius, ignoring the young girl’s list of questions. They walked forward until Sicarius stopped suddenly. She put her right hand back, forcing Glacies to end her steps to her side.
“What is it?” asked Glacies a bit annoyingly. But her question was already answered without even the wording from the mouth of Sicarius. The beast made of mud crept along the walls, lowering downwards like a spider. A thick green drool escaped from the opened mouth. The deathly eyes seemed slightly aglow with roots bordering the edges. Sicarius and Glacies looked upon each other’s eyes in deep thought until acting upon impulse.
Briskly, Sicarius ran towards the raging beast, jumping into the air and landing on top of the staggering primate. Glacies, quick with her bow, let out a stream of small blue arrows into the open mouth. The arrows left several holes on the inside of the thick neck. Letting out a course scream, the beast moved its neck with anxiety. Sicarius did not ease her grasp on the monster, however. She dug into the flesh with ease, her daggers hastily digging into the slimy back until forming a large hole.
Sicarius dug both blades into the back before using her hands to push the sides even more. Slowly the hole grew wider, protruding along the spikes; but the weeds continued binding themselves with a renewed thickness. Suddenly a plethora of small objects crept out of the open back, creeping along Sicarius’s arm with swiftness. “Spiders!” shrieked Sicairus with annoyance as she eyed them with benign hatred.
The beast continued to moved, struggling to evade its grasp from its enemy. The insects of multiple dark colors continued racing onto the body before them. Creeping upwards, the beetles dug themselves into the pale flesh, causing small dots of silver blood to escape the assassin’s mighty body where armory was evident. As a beetle crept along her face, Sicarius bit into the crunchy food source, quickly spitting it out with disgust. Noticing the hole she made was slowly binding into what it had once been, intact, Sicarius moved her hands in a circular manner before digging her arm into the narrow pit.
She smiled with brutality as she submitted to the monster’s wishes. She leapt off the back, watching as the monster’s back fused together—a mistake worth noting. The monster staggered towards the two women. Glacies looked upon Sicarius with dismay, quickly reassured by Sicarius's expression of dominance. Only a foot away from its prey, the morlutum opened its mouth in deep horror as its body began to be consumed by the blue fire Sicarius had carefully formulated.
A bright blue flame flickered in the beast’s eyes before it consumed the skull and ultimately the body. Slowly and painfully, the abnormal creature became a dry pile of weeds no longer able to stand. Only a flame flickered on top of the pile which was quickly blown away by Sicarius.
Sicarius looked at her long nails, smiling with malevolence. Turning towards her back, Sicarius made sure Glacies followed behind. She saw the king race across the backside of the castle, one of the beasts chasing him from behind. Pushing the back doors open, she turned to the opposite side to let out a high pitched whistle only she was able to formulate. Quickly, the wolf beast she had befriended raced across the terrestrial environment in search of Sicarius. Stopping abruptly before her, it licked its lips in obedience. Sicarius quickly slashed the bindings by which enabled Proditor to be attached to the back. She rose to the beast’s ear, whispering quickly, for time was scarce.
The creature rose up, jumping into the air towards the moving creature of mud. Letting out a loud growl, the beast of fur caused the morlutum to turn briskly around. The stare was not convincing, for the morlutum seemed to smile with malevolence as it continued chasing the tired king. The white cloak was already beginning to fall down, not floating in the air as before. The legs of fur raced along the grey dirt, causing small grains to fly from the sides like droplets of water. Leaping upwards again, the beast cast a rather long shadow on the creature of mud. Fortis looked to his side, noting there was hope for survival. He stopped suddenly, knowing the lava would lead him to his death.
Glacies did what she knew best, throwing the sharp arrows from a great length. Each arrow struck the monster at its abdomen, causing it to stagger behind the running king. The flesh of the beast quickly broke the pieces of metal, binding itself far more for protection. With the second round of arrows, only half of them were able to penetrate the hardened body
Holding his axe, the king threw it to the malevolent monster of mud. The axe raced into the dark air, causing a purple light to shine before partly cutting the neck of the strange beast. Noticing the morlutum was weaker than before, the creature of fur leapt once again, catching the live dirt in its mouth. The monster struggled, pushing its arms against the huge jaws that kept close around its waist. Moving its head with rapidness, the creature similar to that of a wolf threw the limp body into the stream of floating lava. The weeds and dirt composing the monster were quickly degraded. The beast was nothing more than what it had been—dead dirt.
Chapter 13
Death within Death