Enclave

by Brandon Varnell

  Frown deepening, she began paying more attention to Faust’s style. There was no doubt in her mind that this man was a master at sword fighting. His way of fighting, the economy of his movements, his ability to adapt to on the fly changes in a person’s stance and attack pattern were all flawless.

  If this man was indeed Faust, his talent would make sense.

  However, while his abilities were undoubtedly exceptional, maybe even superior to her own, his belief in his own inherent superiority were a weakness she could exploit, provided she could give him the right kind of bait.

  I can’t believe I’m going to be taking a page from Christian’s book.

  Samantha had no talent at using the Fake Opening Style that her former Executioner so coveted. It took a certain mindset, an alien way of thinking, that she just couldn’t do. The style itself was a twisted one, designed to knowingly give someone several openings to direct their attacks. Only someone who lacked a sense of self-preservation could ever use a style like that to its full efficiency.

  That did not mean she could not at least do something similar.

  And so, Samantha presented an opening, one that she could live with getting struck. Faust, as she suspected, took the bait. It was not in his nature to leave an opening like this. He moved forward, batting her sheath aside, then thrusting his Celtic sword forward. It moved fast—too fast for Samantha, who could not use the Fake Opening Style—to respond. The blade went through her shoulder, sinking all the way up to the hilt and extending out of her back.

  Samantha gasped as she felt the cold chill of the blade contrast with the sharp, white hot agony of skin, muscles, and bone being pierced. A large stain on both her front and back began soaking her shirt red. She could feel blood trailing across her skin, pouring down her back and chest.

  Faust was no longer smiling. He was frowning.

  “You were more than capable of dodging that.”

  “True.”

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  “Because I needed to do something that would leave you open.”

  At those words, Faust seemed to finally realize something that he had missed.

  He looked down at the elegant guard of Samantha’s sword, a series of interweaving black and silver “strings” made of Oricalchum that wrapped around Samantha’s hand in a protective embrace. It was the guard of the same sword that had pierced his chest, exactly where his heart should have been. No blood emerged from his chest, no growing stain of vermilion ichor expanded from the wound. However, if one were to look closely into the rip, they would see the skin around the sword dissolving.

  “So I see.” Faust looked back up at Samantha, who was surprised to see the man smiling at her. “Thank you. Perhaps now I will finally be able to see her again.”

  As Samantha watched Faust’s body dissolve until nothing remained except ashes that were soon blown away by the wind, she found herself wondering who the gaunt man was speaking of. After a moment of consideration, she decided that it really didn’t matter. She had defeated him, sending him back to wherever he’d come from. Now she had to help the others push back the force of goblins and trolls.

  ***

  Leon had often been described as simple. Most people who met him thought he lacked intelligence because of his straight-forward personality. His uncomplicated and nearly childish joy for violent combat didn’t help.

  “Hahaha! What are you all doing? Don’t disappoint me now!”

  It really didn’t help.

  While a very devout follower of Christ, Leon had one large problem, and it had nothing to do with his size. He loved combat. The thrill of being caught in a life and death struggle, the adrenaline that raced through his veins when he found himself involved in vicious conflict, when each breath he took could very well be his last. The only time Leon ever felt alive, truly alive, was during battle.

  Named after one of the archangels and who was often depicted as being exceedingly tall (During Moses’s visit to the Third Heaven, he was said to have glimpsed Sandalphon and called him the “tall angel”), his weapon truly fit him better than anything else could.

  He swung his warhammer, Sandalphon, at a goblin, laughing out in a joyous symphony as the creature’s bones were turned into mulch from the force of his attack. The goblin went careening into a wall, where it struck so hard and with so much power behind it that the wooden structure splinter, and the goblin, already broken, flew through it and out of sight.

  Weaving around him, darting in and out from between her enemies, he could just barely pick out Sif as she methodically killed each goblin in her path. Wherever her speedy form appeared, at least one goblin died, either from their neck or stomach being split open like an overripe fruit, or from their back or skull being penetrated by her clawed weapons. Either way, regardless of the attack used, there could be no denying that Sif was as effective a killer as him.

  What an amazing woman, he marveled. Truly, there didn’t existed a better person on this good green earth to be his partner.

  Something sharp stung the left side of his back. Reaching out with his free hand and grabbing the offending object, Leon tossed what he guessed to be a knife away. He could feel the blood dribbling down his back, warm and wet. Unlike most people, who would have been at least hurt by that point, he simply ignored the wound like it didn’t exist and went right back to smashing his enemies.

  The sound of gunshots continued to sound out from the stairwell. Leon knew that to mean that Christian still had some fight left in him. Even as he smashed his hammer against another goblin, knocking them for a loop so hard their heads popped off with a splatter of blood, he could see several enemies that were felled from precise shots to the head.

  For such a little guy, he sure had a lot of spirit.

  A howling to his left sounded out seconds before the werewolf leapt onto one of the goblin’s in the rear, tearing out beastie’s throat with its sharp teeth. The werewolf howled again, startling those around it, before spitting out the nearly black fluid in its mouth. It probably didn’t like the taste of blood.

  Leon wasn’t quite sure what to think of fighting alongside a werewolf. Wasn’t he supposed to kill monsters? Still, Samantha had said they were working together for now, so he guessed it was okay. The werewolf was a good fighter anyway. It’d be a shame to kill him right now.

  Another troll lumbered up to Leon, who grinned as the gigantic beast roared at him in challenge. Several of its brethren had already been killed by him. Killing trolls was something of a specialty. His incredible strength and constitution made him ideal for taking down larger monsters like trolls and cyclops.

  A pair of fisted hands tried to smash Leon into the ground. Unlike Sif and Christian, who would have dodged the attack, he made no such effort, and instead lifted his warhammer, grunting as the two giant fists struck.

  His knees buckled, and the wooden tiles underneath him cracked from the powerful blow. Yet even though his body shook with exertion, Leon held true, and then used his own immense strength to push back.

  The troll didn’t seem to have expected that kind of resistance because it stumbled backwards when he shoved at it. It also didn’t seem to expect an attack from him so soon, because the thing didn’t even try to block when Leon thrust the hammer into its face, knocking it for a loop. As the creature stumbled about, dizzy and confused, it’s now broken nose bleeding, Leon let out his own challenging shout.

  He leapt into the air, raising Sandalphon over his head. He soon brought his weapon down, smashing straight onto the cranium of his foe. He could see the way the skull caved in, bending and crunching where he struck. The troll, its brain crushed under the assault to its noggin, impacted hard enough with the ground to crack it. The thing twitched several times where it lay, but then it stilled.

  A glance around the room revealed that to be the last of the trolls. Too bad. He wanted to fight some more. Sif could still be seen darting about, and the werewolf was doing a rather good job of pincering t
he goblins between him and Leon’s partner. Several goblins were felled by bullets, blood shooting out, sort of reminding him of what happens when a rock is thrown into a body of water, or when a kid stomps on a puddle. They fell to the ground, crumbling faster than Jenga blocks when there’s only one block on the left to keep the balance and it’s on the far-left side. That meant Christian still had some ammo.

  The battle began winding down soon. Leon noticed that there weren’t many goblins left. Most of them were now corpses. He could see Samantha running in through the exit made by the trolls. Since that gaunt man wasn’t with her, he decided to assume she had won. No surprise there. The woman had earned her title of Queen for a reason.

  With nothing left to kill and no more enemies to be fought, Leon took a gander around the room. It was littered with bodies and body parts, and blood, what looked like several other fluids, brain matter, and organs.

  This place would definitely need to be cleaned before it could be used by anyone else again.

  ***

  A good several hours after the battle was spent disposing of goblin and troll corpses. The goblins were easy. Just find a place well away from any of the lodges, dig a pit, place the bodies in the pit, and then light them on fire before burying the ashes. That was the standard procedure when destroying goblin bodies.

  The trolls? Not so much.

  Trolls were very large creatures. Even the smallest towered over the largest human by at least three feet. Not to mention their skin was fire retardant. Andrew and Leon had to deal with them, dragging the large carcasses through the woods and toward West Thumb, a smaller inlet that made up a part of Yellowstone Lake. There, they rolled the bodies into the lake, far enough out that the waters became deep and the heavy corpses sank to the bottom.

  This entire process took the two of them six hours. They were exhausted by the time they had finished.

  Even after the corpses had all be taken care of, they still found that more had to be done. There was the matter of the damage that the lodge had incurred. Jan Hudson needed to be informed of what happened and restitution had to be paid. For that task, Clarissa had chosen herself, as it had been because of her that they were allowed to stay.

  Another issue that needed to be resolved was what they should all do now. Each one of them were officially enemies of the Church. This battle had merely reinforced that point.

  Faust was a human that had been turned into a demon by Mephisto, becoming the greater demon’s right-hand man. Faust had also been in charge of the goblins, or had gained control of them at some point, which meant he’d been going specifically after the succubi, and Lilith and Christian being there had just been a happy coincidence. Samantha and her ilk were enemies of the Church for obvious reasons, and Lilith and Christian were as well. It was therefore agreed upon by all parties, however reluctantly, that they should stick together. At least for now.

  “Lilith and I will be going to Old Faithful Snow Lodge and Cabins,” Christian determined. “We don’t have very much options left to us. Even if Samantha and her people were inclined to protect us, they have neither the strength nor the resources to do so.”

  Maybe it was an act of selfishness on his part, but Lilith’s safety was his top priority.

  “And I’ll be going with them,” Tristin added. When Christian looked at the man with a raised eyebrow, the incubus grinned. “Sorry, but you’re not getting rid of me so easily. It was always my intention to hook back up with you when we met again.” He pouted, cheeks puffed out in childish anger, arms crossed over his chest. “It took a lot longer than I anticipated, but that’s hardly my fault. There was a lot more going on in the background that I didn’t know about.”

  “Fine. You can follow us.” Christian was too tired to care. “Just don’t slow us down.”

  “Aye!” Tristin gave his friend a sloppy salute.

  “There’s really no stopping you, is there?” asked Samantha.

  Christian shook his head. “No. Sorry. If there’s even the slightest chance that Azazel can offer us protection from the Church, I’m going to take it.”

  “What if he wants to lure you into a trap? Sell you out to the Church?”

  “It’s well-known that fallen angels do not get along with demons. The animosity the Grigori feel toward demons from the time they were angels of Heaven is well documented. I think there are even more stories about demons and fallen angels fighting each other than there are angels and demons fighting each other.”

  “That is true enough.” Samantha grimaced before her face hardened. “If you really are going to go through with this, then I suppose we should go with you.”

  “But I thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with that Zazel guy,” said Lilith.

  “It’s Azazel,” Christian corrected, making Lilith blush. He looked at Samantha. “I’m curious to know why you’ve changed your mind so suddenly as well. You’re not the type to give in like this.”

  Samantha’s shoulders slumped, a tired sigh escaping her parted lips. “Just like you, we might not have much choice. The Executioners are only fifty strong now, and only ten of those are actually Executioners. The rest worked in either the Science Division or the Intelligence Division.”

  “Though I’m still the best of the Intelligence Division.”

  “Can it, Tristin.”

  “So cruel...”

  “We simply don’t have the manpower to make a difference anymore. And if the Church ever decided to eradicate us, well, that would be it.” Tugging on a lock of raven hair, Samantha suddenly looked more insecure than Christian had ever seen her. “Truth be told, we’ve been backed into a corner. I don’t want to admit it, but everything that’s happened so far proves this. We’re out of our depth and out of our league. Even if I had managed to convince you to join, I think it would have only prolonged the inevitable.”

  “It may have shortened it,” Lilith said. When Samantha frowned, she waved a hand through the air and elucidated. “Christian and I aren’t just enemies of the Church. They seem to be hunting us specifically for some reason. If we went back with you, and the Church found out, they would have come in force to kill us and destroy you.”

  Samantha thought that over, and then slowly nodded. “You may be right.”

  Christian smiled at Lilith. “You’re really good at analyzing a situation, you know that?”

  “You think so?” Lilith asked, flushing in exultation at his praise.

  “Yes.”

  “So,” Samantha got things back on track. “It looks like we’ll be going with you two.”

  Standing several feet away, Sif shifted, looking uncomfortable. No one really paid her any mind, but Christian did take note of it. That woman really didn’t seem to enjoy the idea of being with them. Was it because Lilith was a succubus?

  “And what about all of you?” Christian asked Clarissa. “What are your plans?”

  “We shall be going with you as well.”

  Behind the olive-skinned woman, the fifty or so succubi all nodded—at least those that were not still numbed from the day’s events did. A lot of the younger ones were standing around with deadened eyes. They must have been in shock.

  “Alright then.” Christian ran a hand through his hair, parting his bangs. “I guess we’ll be sticking together for a while longer.”

  Lilith turned to look at Catherine and Andrew. “What about you two?”

  Catherine and Andrew looked at each other.

  “I don’t think we can,” Catherine spoke for them both. “Andrew and I need to return to the LAPD and let them know what happened. Also, I’m worried about my daughter. She should be at a friend’s house, but with everything that’s happened, I want to make sure she is safe.”

  “You two will keep in touch, right?” asked Christian.

  “Of course we will,” Andrew answered before Catherine could. “With all the crazy stuff going down, demons and hostile take overs of the Catholic Church and whatnot, you can bet we’re going
to keep in touch.”

  “I would suggest not telling the LAPD about what’s going on,” once again, the suggestion came from Lilith. “Or at least, only informing whoever is at the top.”

  Samantha was the one who asked the question on everyone’s mind. “Care to explain your reasons?”

  “Because the Catholic Church is huge,” Lilith said, shrugging. “They are the largest religious community in the world, and with the Church possibly being taken over by demons. Well...” she shook her head. “Christian told me that they have eyes and ears everywhere, including police forces and the military. If Catherine and Andrew let the LAPD know what happened here, the Church would probably find out as well.”

  “You make a good point.” Catherine blew out a low breath and rubbed her jaw. “Very well. We’ll only tell commissioner Flacher. He’s an atheist through and through, so I doubt he has any ties to the Church.”

  “Good.” Lilith nodded, satisfied.

  “Do you have a way for us to reach you?” asked Clarissa.

  Catherine cocked her head to the side, then nodded. “Yes. I’ll give you my cell and home number, since it’ll reach me personally and not someone else. Call my cell first. If I don’t answer, call my home number.”

  She searched around for a sheet of paper and something to write on, and then quickly scribbled down her contact information before handing it to Christian.

  “Well, I guess this is it, then.” Christian looked at the mass of faces gathered around him. There were a lot of them. Most of them young women in their teens. He felt a slight pang as he realized these girls were alive thanks to the sacrifice of the older succubus. “We’ll travel to Old Faithful Snow Lodge and Cabins and meet with Azazel to see what he wants.”

  “Hey, do you think we should come up with a name for our group?” asked Lilith.

  Christian gave her a look. “Why would we do that?”

  Lilith shrugged, not deigning to look him in the eyes, her face flushed. “All the groups in books and light novels name their group.”

  Christian palmed his face, but that was more to hide his smile. “I suppose we could.”