Otherworld Soldiers- Rise of the Apocalypse

by Fox Lancet

  The sharp, metallic song of a sword being unsheathed interrupted the foes’ malevolent stares. Before Nefarion could swing one of his serrated swords at Kaleb, the Seraph grabbed Celest around the waist and leapt from the horse. He landed on a nearby tree using his remarkably long fingers. Like their horses, Kaleb’s kind was petite and light in form, making them fast and agile, their strength greatly contradicted their size.

  Nefarion dismounted violently, sending his steed running off into the woods. The eerie dissonance of a chain had Kaleb straining to look over his shoulder and down to where Nefarion stood. His Demon adversary had a chain wrapped several times around his left hand and it continued to snake out to his right hand as more slack found its way to a spiked mace.

  As Nefarion began twirling the weapon in large circles, Kaleb bounded to the next tree and then quickly to another, attempting to be elusive. Nefarion followed through the rubble of the forest, accommodating the spin of the chain and mace to his surroundings. He finally released the menacing tool just as Kaleb was bounding to another tree. The chain hissed through the air and flew past Kaleb and Celest just as the Seraph landed. It wrapped around the tree several times, pinning the two bodies against it. Kaleb grunted quietly as Nefarion jerked the chain to tighten the trap.

  He approached the bottom of the tree, watching his captives with a grin of accomplishment. “Now, before I pull you both down, I believe I need Celest to disclose one more piece of information.” His grin faded as his gaze froze on the witch.

  Staring back at his black form, she knew his glowing red eyes could see her exhausted features through the night, although could not see his. “She is a female in the otherworld. She is a re-spawning key that has no idea what she is.” The chain was tight around Celest’s torso and she strained to take another breath. “Only her presence can control the opening and closing of the gate. It remains open now until she wills it otherwise.” Another strangled breath.

  Nefarion watched intently when she suddenly began screaming. Just as Nefarion saw the glimmer of a dagger protruding from Celest’s left shoulder, he felt the searing pain of a blade slice into the flesh of his upper back. He twisted around, a savage roar escaping his lungs as he grasped the chain in both of his hands and braced his left shoulder beneath the metal links. Another dagger shot past his head, missing him by a hair. Nefarion’s roar had rumbled to a growl and his muscles swelled as he pulled the chain with all of his power.

  The enemies he now faced slowed their horses and stilled their weapons. There was a series of loud cracks and a sudden groan as the tree released its lament and began to topple. Halfway to the ground, the tree fell into the embrace of its neighbors.

  Hunter and Syler could not hear the sound of the stumbling tree over the barrage of their horses’ haste. From a distance they could see the tree descending and their white adversaries at a stand-still. They glanced at one another with wicked sneers and simultaneously extricated their maces from their belts, Hunter’s chain laced with razors. They twirled the lethal weapons and released them, not stopping their steeds until the chains encompassed their goals.

  Hunter’s sneer grew to a fang-filled smile as he wrenched his weapon arm back, tightening the chain around his target’s lithe neck. The row of razors crisscrossed the Seraph’s flesh, lopping his head off; the creature’s blood ejected in a fine fountain of sparkling blue up into the dark forest. Hunter could not help but throw his head back, laughing uncontrollably at his gruesome success.

  In the meantime, Syler pulled his enemy off his horse with his chain, landing the Seraph on his back. He commanded his horse to turn and run through a swarm of trees so thick even the moon did not penetrate it. The horse reared before heeding the command. The cries of the Seraph dragging behind Syler and his steed only lasted a few seconds before they were lost to breaking bones and groans of agony. Minutes later, Syler returned to his original position where Hunter waited. The corner of Hunter’s mouth upturned at Syler’s arrival and he cocked his bald brow in curiosity. Syler’s face remained rigid and he trotted his giant equine toward Nefarion’s position, not glancing back at Hunter’s peals of laughter when he saw the ragged corpse slithering behind Syler’s steed.

  When Syler approached, Nefarion was standing over the broken tree with a dagger still protruding from his right shoulder blade, black blood with a red sheen seething around the weapon. He looked past his captain’s shoulder to find the witch pinned to the tree by Nefarion’s chain and colorful blood drooling from her mouth. She coughed absently, her breathing labored due to broken ribs and internal bleeding.

  Nefarion glared at the vacant position next to her.

  “A little help would be much appreciated,” Celest sputtered suddenly, unable to look up from her close view of the forest floor. Nefarion regarded her briefly before his attention drifted purposefully to the limits where the tall trees dove up into complete blackness, too far for his night vision to penetrate..

  “Syler, loose her,” Nefarion commanded.

  Syler dismounted, and approached Celest without a word.

  “Kaleb could not have gotten far; keep your eyes on the trees, Hunter.”

  Hunter had silently joined them, sobered from his rapture with the recent executions. He lifted his eyes at Nefarion’s order.

  “Can we kill her yet?” Hunter pressed, without losing focus on the task at hand, pausing at the waterfalls of moonlight spilling through the natural canopy.

  Nefarion shot a hard stare in Hunter’s direction. When the distracted soldier did not respond, Nefarion took several heavy steps toward the Demon, stopping a foot from him. Hunter turned to eye his leader quizzically. Nefarion worked his jaw slowly.

  “Not quite, but now we just may have to,” Nefarion growled under his breath. Hunter confirmed his understanding with a subtle nod, realizing his mistake. “You better hope for your unscathed throat that she did not hear, otherwise when she is dead we will never be able to attain the key to another world and you will cease in this existence and beyond to any future meetings in other existences.” Nefarion’s eyes faded from their luminescent red to a deep purple in his irritation at Hunter’s carelessness.

  Hunter cringed angrily and bared his fangs as he looked back to the branches of the surrounding forest inhabitants.

  The moment Celest fell from her bonds Nefarion pulled her from the dirt. With his temper flaring, Nefarion set her throat in the vice of his grip and bore his radiant red eyes into the wearied oceans of hers.

  “Finish this so I can rid you of my presence. I am spent,” Nefarion growled into her face. She blinked through the heat of his breath, her vision failing from the dagger luring her blood out.

  “The rest is simple,” whispering was all she could manage. “I know not for certain, but the key will be drawn to Demons the way Demons will be drawn to it.” Celest stole an exhausted sigh. “Perhaps not directly, but to the same places, to the same fascinations, appeals, allures. You will find her.” Celest opened her eyes completely. “And I will end!” She gritted her straight white teeth. “Damn your greed.”

  Nefarion’s response was replaced by a shout from Hunter. As he twisted to search for Hunter over his shoulder, he moved his grip from her neck to her arm.

  Hunter was gazing intently toward him and the witch. After a hesitant step toward Nefarion, he stopped with a look of chagrin claiming his evil features. Nefarion scowled and turned back to Celest to find a stump where her head had been. The blood squirting from her neck glittered in a kaleidoscope of colors. Nefarion pushed her still standing body away from him in a rage, roaring callously. His attention snapped back toward Hunter, who had vanished to pursue the death-dealing Seraph. Nefarion searched the nearby wood in attempt to spot him or the offending Seraph. Syler tensed and stepped forward to follow after Hunter.

  “No.” Nefarion stayed his warrior grimly. “We have uncovered what we came in search of. They have not.” Nefarion began to strip his chain from around the smooth trunk of the half-falle
n tree. “Worry not about Hunter. Never doubt that beast’s well-being. We will see him back at the fortress soon.” He stood, his massive form penetrating a band of moonlight falling through the trees, causing a shroud of blackness to fall over the front of him.

  He lifted his face to the sky of leaves and branches, closing his red eyes briefly. Then, like waking from a dream, he turned resolutely and headed off, calling over his shoulder to Syler. “We must now prepare for an oppressive journey. They will follow us to the end of this world and into the next.”

  2

  Schyroline

  A red sun burned in the sky, casting its glare across a desolate valley. Nefarion and Syler trod along a dirt road toward a tremendous peak jutting from the valley floor. The peak’s shadow spilled out to the right of the road. An ominous castle was carved into the secluded mountain. Sharp spires and jagged ledges made up towers and balconies, all shadowed and dark, creating a foreboding presence.

  Along the road that led to the gigantic gates, gallows were placed half a mile apart for miles on end. Each held a tortured corpse. Some were fresh and dripping warm blood while others were old, peeling decayed flesh. Nefarion and Syler did not give the morbid displays a passing glance; the grotesque displays were merely warning signs for strangers and trespassers.

  Nefarion relaxed in the ruddy light of the red sun. The slow approach of his fortress soothed his tight nerves from the last few days journey searching for the witch and the hapless battle between him and his enemy for lore on the gate.

  When the thought crossed his mind, he finally acknowledged one of the hung men. He smiled, his eyes flashing in a short moment of delight. The rope had embedded itself into the flesh of the corpse’s neck before life had left the body. Midnight blue blood was a dry dribble down the neck, naked chest and torso. The Seraph’s skin had most likely been a soft white before its demise but now it was a gloomy gray. Its jaw hung in place by only the skin and both of its ears were missing. The bones of the cadaver's legs were contorted into hideous angles and protruded through torn flesh in several places. Dried blood covered its legs and the wooden planks of the gallows beneath the battered carcass.

  The distant pound of horse’s hooves began to stir the quiet air. Neither Syler nor Nefarion reacted to the approaching sound. Hunter joined his two comrades, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. Syler glanced at him sidelong, noting the glitter of Seraph blood gleaming on Hunter’s skin. Without turning to fully regard his cohort, Syler spoke:

  “You never go anywhere without causing a mess of some kind, do you, Hunter?” Syler continued to look toward the fortress looming oppressively against the open carmine sky as the three entered its shade. Hunter bowed his head modestly as if accepting a compliment. Nefarion glanced at his returning subordinate and gave him a nod of approval.

  “If he did not, he would not be part of my regiment,” Nefarion responded casually. “How many did you take?” he inquired without indicating to whom he was directing the question.

  “Some discretion and prior deliberation would be wise,” Syler spoke before Hunter had a chance to address Nefarion’s question. Nefarion shot a furious, purple glare in Syler’s direction.

  “First, never interrupt any discourse I am engaged in with someone other than yourself. Second, do not question the blood of a Seraph on your comrade’s hands no matter by what means he acquired it. We are destruction, particularly to that white-eyed species; we are the pestilence that will eradicate all those who oppose our path whether it is with or without discretion and prior deliberation. Is that clear?” Nefarion paused, clenching his teeth. Syler responded with a deep, single nod. “Do not doubt my acclamation for you, Syler. You have as many strengths and faults as Hunter does.” He glared at Syler’s counterpart briefly. “However, I will chastise him as I see fit. That is not your place so long as I am at hand. He is mine to punish.” Nefarion’s eyes faded back to red as he calmed from his irate admonition. Silence ensued for a long minute before Nefarion spoke again.

  “Now, Hunter, how many did you take?” he asked without taking his gaze off the entrance to his massive fortress.

  The corner of Hunter’s mouth turned up in a wicked half-grin. His form rode the wave of the horse’s heavy footfalls as they ventured between the metal doors being heaved open by a giant iron mechanism hidden within the walls of the mountain.

  “Three.” He paused a moment, his red eyes glowing as he entered the black void of a tunnel that led deep into the mountain. After they passed through the giant doors he continued, “I followed Kaleb to a band of putrid creatures with glowing white eyes,” he spat, avoiding the use of their proper names. “They were traveling in the opposite direction on their hideous white steeds. One fell back and I used his own sword to cut his throat after I had pulled him from its back.” Hunter’s wicked half grin turned into a large monstrous smile as he reveled in the memory of his recent conquests.

  “The second one was near and almost alerted the band of Seraphs when he heard his comrade gurgling behind him, but I pitched a dagger at his throat, silencing him. I did not anticipate his body dropping from his steed.” Hunter’s monstrous smile turned into a ponderous frown. It quickly vanished and was replaced by a steady fang-filled grin. “At that point I called for Carrion—” Carrion being Hunter’s equine. “—and began back-tracking into the foliage, staying low to the ground, as the whole troop turned their hideous white eyes in my direction. Since they did not know precisely where I was, they approached cautiously. Then Carrion charged in to where I had previously been, which was now directly between the enemy and myself. It worked out well for they were all so vexed, I had ample time to mount him and race away.”

  “I thought you killed three?” Syler interjected.

  Hunter shot him an aggravated glare. “Who said I was finished?” he growled angrily. Syler rolled his glowing red eyes as he looked away.

  A muted red light began to grow at the end of the tunnel. As the creatures neared, it became evident that the red light was spilling down a set of enormous stairs crudely cut into the mountain. The steps reached twenty feet across the tunnel and climbed hundreds of shallow steps up to an opening that allowed the blood sun’s rays to pour down the stairs and leak into the black tunnel.

  “The third broke from the group and chased me down, putting a dagger in my ribs before he reached me. Once he caught up with me, I merely pulled it out and returned it by sticking it hilt deep in his leg. While he was busy howling, I knocked him off his horse. After he was down on the ground, I impaled him with one of my swords.” Hunter finished his story as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

  They dismounted their steeds and led them by the reins to the left of the stairway. In the shadows, hidden from the light escaping the mouth at the top of the stairs, a large door waited several yards past the bottom step. The oversized staircase was simply a ploy for intruders capable of getting past the iron gate. Once the trespassers reached the top of the stairs, a barrier would drop behind them and they would be caught in the center of sheer rocks with no escape. Then the enemy or unfortunate outsider would fall victim to the vile entertainment of Demon guards.

  Nefarion and his small horde were met by one of these guards behind the thick wooden door. He resembled Nefarion and his cohorts in height and features, though he was close to twice as broad; his muscles bulged, pinching his veins against his tight black skin. Warriors had to be strong and agile, which required less muscle mass than was necessary to be a guard in the Demons’ lair. As they entered through the first door, the massive, sinister creatures regarded each other with subtle nods.

  Shortly after their admission, the door shut with a booming thud that reverberated throughout the austere cavern that now lay before them. The guard sealed it with several clicks and a loud sheathing of metal on metal, which joined the departing echo of the heavy door’s bellow. Here, their steeds were led away to a separate cavern where all equine beasts were housed by the hundreds.

  A single
stone bridge ran through the center of the hollow cavern that enveloped an enormous pit, where the bottom was obscured by its relentless depths. The path reached out and curved around one of the cavern’s walls, disappearing from sight.

  Once the Demons reached the end of the bridge, another door waited in candlelight. This door was neither guarded nor locked; it simply marked the final entrance into the fortress where it became a maze of stairs, hidden walkways, rooms with no purpose, and dead-ends.

  The blackness of the fortress would thwart many intruders’ progress through the structure, unless they were equipped with torches. However, regardless of torches, the layout of the giant lair would turn around any creature that did not belong. Spiral staircases littered the infrastructure from level to level, found in shadows behind pillars or layered walls of rock. The Lord’s level was the most elaborate to traverse that even Nefarion sometimes found it tedious to travel. On the way to anywhere within the fortress, Demons often found themselves feeling like they were backtracking. After climbing flights of stairs upward, they would find themselves descending to a level across the mountain before ascending to their destination.

  Finally, the Demons pushed through a solid metal door into a room of flames and familiar vulgar voices. A silent, graceful form immediately slithered to Hunter’s side. It hung its arms across his black muscular shoulders and stretched on its clawed toes to nuzzle his ear. Hunter smiled broadly, wrapping his arm around the Succubus’s waist to mold her body to his, turning to run his nose up the side of the eager female’s face. She melted at his embrace and smiled wickedly.