Chapter X
Days passed and soon
morphed into week in turn, week turned to months. It proved a
harrowing yet revitalising experience, as I saw my old life die and I
became someone new.
Gone was the out of
shape slob that spent his days infront of a computer, working for
some soulless corporation and who wasted his nights in front of the
TV.
In came the new
version of me. In the span January to March, I'd lost a good 20 pound
and for the first time in my life had put on some muscles. Sure, I
wasn't a body builder or anything but it was a huge improvement.
But that's not to
say my life got easy. I didn't get like that by getting to the gym a
few times a week. With the ladies and a few other mages, I'd taken a
new job; Overwatching the city.
Ghouls, rampaging
trolls, Death cults and the restless dead, That was my new work load.
I grew in strenght but so did the threats I faced.
March 29th
was when the boat was rocked once again. At the time, I was on a job
with a small time kinectomancer called Keith. While he couldn't throw
a truck around, He packed one heck of a punch and his bullets danced
in the air like they were in an aquatic ballet.
“Ready?” I asked
in a hushed tone to my partner.
“Yeah. On three?”
There were hints of stress in his voice. Which was understandable. A
few months ago, he had been a male cheerleader for the university.
Now, he was hunting cultists...
I counted down, and
as I hit zero, both of us hit the double door with all our weight.
The empty Warehouse
had been taken over two weeks ago by a group of demon worshiping
cultists. While they were free to worship anyone, one of the members
had kidnapped his girlfriend and was preparing to sacrifice her
tonight as the full moon reached it's apex. That, we couldn't let
happen.
Using the handful of
seconds we had before they demonologist realised what was happening
we grapped for cover. Working with Keith, I'd learned how to best use
his powers.
While he was limited
in potential, he had way more power than I currently could muster. On
top of that, he was one hell of a crack shooter.
As he focused his
will through the customly engraved pistol and bullets he carried, I
provided a distraction; Like a John woo movie, I lept for another
cover, firing a pair of small caliber handguns, emptying their clips
in the general direction of the targets.
It goes without
saying that I didn't hit a goddamn thing with that little stun. But
that wasn't the point. Most of the warlocks weren't even a day above
16. They were all just kids in their rebelious and dark, brooding
phase.
What we were here
for was the leader. He wasn't some kind of wannabe. He was the real
deal. He'd just moved onto the city after losing the mirror shades in
Chicago.
Bullets flew as I
remained behind a large stack of empty crates and barrel that had
been left there. The kids themselfves were harmless, but the leader,
a man that called himself Lazarus, had brain washed several of them.
More or less literaly.
After a few seconds
of fire, it all went silent as they began reloading. Big mistake from
newbies, always keep a gun loaded. Otherwise, this happens.
From the otherside
of the warehouse, Keith rose from cover, holding a single machine
pistol with both hands. A flurry of bullets sprayed all over the
cultists. Not a single one missed. O one was yet hurt.
Using his power,
he'd redirected the bullet's course to veer right into the men's
guns, sending them in pieces or flying.
That was my cue to
move again, without even holstering them, I left go of the pistols,
reaching for the machette and the kid sized baseball bat, one of the
old ones, made from actual hardwood.
Using the kid's
surprise I charged in, most of them weren't armed and didn't even try
anything, they just stood to the side as I rushed in, smashing the
baseball into one of the goon who posed a threat's stomach, sending
him down the floor hurling his stomach's content.
And then, things
degenerated. There was a lot of screaming as Keith and I fought,
throwing punches, baseball bat swings and kicks. Most of the wannabe
satanist goth kids ran for it early on. Yet there was a lot of cannon
fodder that stood by their master as docile slaves.
I wasn't exactly a
pro, but we held a small advantage to them, as people under a
compulsion have a delayed timming and reaction time due to the
instant before they receive an order and their mind process it.
As sad as it was,
these guys would never really recover, mental manipulation is a
difficult art, the slightest mistake could cause permanent psychic
trauma to the victim's mind. There was no way Lazarus, the
sociopathic son of a bitch had gone with white gloves on these guys.
He wanted control,
total domination. Even if freed, these kids wouldn't have been able
to live. There was no will left in them, no autonomy. They'd been
reduced to automaton.
That, pissed me off
to no end.
One of the thralls
swang a weapon at me and I didn't react in time, so I ended up eating
a facefull of tire iron. Blood splashed down my nose and onto my
lips, the metallic taste filling my mouth. The hit had sent me down,
and I hit the cement floor, hitting my left hand first as I tried to
break the fall. I felt another crack echo throught my bones. One hand
and the nose were out of the game.
Our weapons flied
through the air, fast enough to make a swoop sound as they moved. The
tip of my blade, burried into the guy's belly and a spasm shook his
entire body right before his piece of iron could hit my temple...
I didn't realised
that during our exchange of hits, the high priest had continued his
chanting, lowering his blade right at the captive girl's sternum. At
the same time, infront of him, inside of a circle, that had been
drawn on the ground with spray paint, A monstrous creature formed, a
humongrous wolf with the wings of an eagle and a serpent's tail,
vommiting a fiery ooze that slowly melted the concrete
We were out of time,
we never could match the power of a demon...
However, we could
prevent Lazarus from taking control of it and it's power. The
machette in my hand flew through the air...
It spent some spinning around lazily before it stuck the demon
right on the flank, handle first, rebounding powerlessly onto the
floor, not even phasing it.
The demon howled in
rage, it wasn't hurt. It was insulted. Insulted that an idiot monkey
would dare to stand up to him it screamed and the firery ooze spewed
from his mouth like a freaking waterhose.
It was probably
going to kill me if Laz didn't do it first.
But that didn't
matter...
The flowing burst of
magma hit right in the chest, burning it's way through clothes and
devouring flesh, letting out a fetid odor or roasted flesh.
Lazarus howled in
pain as the demon leap onto him, ripping out his still beating heart
and devouring it whole. Circles of power can keep tremendious amounts
of power, and keep locked even the strongest of extra planar beings.
But it couldn't
prevent physical matter to pass and shatter the barrier. With my
blade, I had broken down the only thing preventing the spirit to
destroy the arrogant mage who had planned to enslave him.
After delighting in
the power of the late Lazarus, the beast slowly trotted to my
position, setting his maw inches from my faces.
“I KNOW NOT IF I
SHALL SPARE YE FOR RELEASHING MY BEING OR DEVOUR YOU FOR YOUR
ARROGANCE MONKEY! SHALL I SWAY MY CLAWS, WHAT SHOULD THEE GIVEST TO
MINESELF?”
The Demon's voice
was like a rumbling, shaking the earth around me, as he spoke a fiery
rasp accompagnied his every words. I couldn't react in anything but
terrified awe... The air had gotten hotter and hotter by the second, my breth grew sharp and Irregular, oxygen getting quickly replaced by the smoke the creature expired
“SPEAK NOW OR
REMAIN SILENT IN DEATH, VERMIN”
I tried to speak...
nothing came out.
Beside I couln't give him anything, or receive anything,
It would've forged a pact...
Camilla knew a lot about spirits and
she'd taught me one thing. When forging a pact with a being, the word
is law. One cannot willfully act against it. And with some beings, just speaking to them casually could forge one.
If I gave him
anything, I'd be bound to obey.
“PERHAPS THEE
REQUIRE GUIDANCE.” He purred out, one of his burning hot claw
carresing my chin, leaving a nasty burn in the whole area. “SPEAK NOW. THINE SOUL
OR THINE SERVITUDE”
Shit... shit...
shit...
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