Otherworld Soldiers- Rise of the Apocalypse

by Fox Lancet

  “They wanted me to test your abilities, your strengths, see if I couldn’t find a weakness. They asked me to send a group after the Demons to do the same. I don’t think they believed what I had witnessed. And they wanted me to ascertain if you were trustworthy.” Rowdy glanced around to double check that everyone he had brought had survived. “And it is obvious you are. I will continue to aid you against the Demons and report back to the Elders, but I assure you they will eventually want to speak to you themselves. They’ll prefer your leader.”

  Jacob nodded several times. “Understood. I will see what I can do when that time comes. For now, I will release you. I believe my Seraphs are in danger and I hope you can assist us in eliminating the remainder of the current threat.” Jacob motioned for Lucas to begin unbinding them. He followed shortly after.

  “I think we can manage that. I’m sorry about earlier. I hope you understand we just needed to know for sure what you were all about.”

  “I very much understand. And I hate to inform you that the group you sent after the Demons are most likely dead unless they were smart enough to flee when they realized they would be defeated.” After he released Rowdy, Jacob set a firm hand on the Vampire’s shoulder to further convey the point he was trying to make, as well as a gesture of trust. Rowdy gave him a single curt nod and rubbed his wrists.

  Once all of the Vampires were freed and standing and stretching, Jacob felt a daunting pressure in the air. He froze and glanced at Lucas, who was already looking at him and standing quite rigidly. Not a second later Elijah’s presence was known and imminent. He came dashing through some broken wood panels at the bottom of the south-facing wall.

  “Run!” He briefly grasped Jacob’s arm, urging him to listen without question; he did the same to Lucas before blurring out through the front of the structure.

  “Follow him,” Jacob shouted, pursuing Elijah out of the stable. They ran out into an open field, achieving its other side in seconds. He turned around to ensure the Vampires were not far behind. Elijah slowed as well, glancing back.

  “Where are the others?” Jacob asked urgently, wondering about the other three Seraphs.

  “Ezekiel and Lamen are coming through the woods now. Adam is dead. They had only enough time to drag his body into the brush, out of sight. The Demons are stalking us tenaciously and there are more than you thought.”

  The Vampires caught up and all turned to look in the direction they had come from.

  “How many?” Jacob demanded.

  “There were eight when I found them.”

  Jacob recoiled at the number, double what he had thought. How had his estimation been so off?

  Elijah continued, “I watched Adam get pulled apart by three of them. I assisted Ezekiel in one of their deaths and then I advocated that we leave immediately, hoping you would have the Vampires’ allegiance again once I returned. I see I was not mistaken.” Elijah looked at him with relief, his shoulders slumping. Just then two white figures came blurring from the tree line along the derelict building.

  Elijah straightened. “Are we fighting or are we fleeing?”

  “Now that there are twenty one against seven, I say we see if they want to try us. But I would also like to leave that up to Rowdy since it is his life and his Vampires.” As Jacob said it, he turned to look at Rowdy, lifting his brows in question.

  The Vampire looked at him with something akin to frustration.

  “You have seen them fight before, do you wish to engage or would you like to wait another day?” Jacob turned back to watch the two Seraphs cross the field. Rowdy followed his gaze, deliberating.

  “Well, let us see how they react when they see the new number. Perhaps they will want to wait another day.” Rowdy pulled his shoulders back, rolling his neck and flexing his hands. His Vampires glanced to one another, all slowly working kinks and readying for another fight. Their eyes frosted over and their fangs appeared.

  Ezekiel and Lamen came to a halt before them, nodding to the Vampires in acknowledgment then looking to Jacob. “Captain,” they greeted.

  “Ezekiel, Lamen,” he responded, nodding in return.

  “Jacob, do they ever grow weary?” Rowdy inquired. “I mean, they’ve been pursuing you for days it seems.”

  Jacob sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and keeping his attention rapt on the tree line. The pressure he had felt earlier, before Elijah’s arrival, grew like a transparent yet heavy pall, attesting to the presence of a number of Demons. Not all Seraphs were as adept to the perception; Jacob had more experience with them then he cared to consider.

  “Unfortunately, they are quite obstinate. On Trissana, they could battle for many moon-lapses without losing alacrity. They have a high tolerance against fatigue. I am not sure how long on this plane it will take before their bodies tire. It has already been five days since we crossed.” Just as he finished saying it, a giant crash rent the stillness of the green valley, echoing through the trees. It was followed by a succession of cracks, like gunshots before the old stable leaned and suddenly buckled to the Earth. Its demise boomed through the trees after the first sounds of decimation.

  “Are they native of your world?” one of the female Vampires wondered aloud before two human-guised Demons appeared among the wooden rubble in the distance, manic grins spread across their faces.

  “From what I can remember they were always there, but death and resurrection on Trissana complicates memory and history. That is a discussion for a later day.”

  The other five Demons emerged from the shadows of the tree line. They had come in sprinting, but came up short and slowed to an amble when they saw the group waiting on the other side of the field. All of them were tall and brawny with black hair and eyes. They were sullied with dirt and blood, some their own, some Adam’s, some perhaps human. As they approached, Jacob watched their lips moving, discussing among themselves tactics for the new situation.

  The two who had leveled the barn had fallen behind, but kept pace. One of them laughed, the sound raking the insides of Jacob’s ears. It was an evil sound. His attention was drawn to their hands, where they were whittling shards of wood they had retrieved from the debris.

  A growl rumbled from his left where the Vampires were grouped. Jacob did not need to look to know it was Rowdy. The two further Demons caught up with the others and passed out the wooden weapons so each had one. Stakes: a warning to the Vampires, signaling to them that the Demons were well aware of their weak points.

  “Insulting,” Rowdy mumbled.

  “It is what they do when they are able. If they can demean you before, during or after killing you, they will do so.

  “And I do not intend to offend you, Rowdy, but I need to ask you to curb your temper. Not only are these Demons, these are Demons of the First Legion of the First Regiment under the Lord Demon and his Elite. They are extremely skilled in many respects, including not getting killed. Apathy Soldiers. Their Captain abhors Seraphs even more than their King and has imbued his soldiers with the same hatred. This will extend to any who choose to aid us.” Jacob began moving away from Rowdy, putting space between him and everyone else nearby.

  “Spread out,” Elijah directed the Vampires when they did not follow suit.

  “Do not get angry, do not be hasty. Stay on the defense at all time, only attack when there is nothing but open opportunity to do so, or you will die,” Ezekiel advised as he moved among the Vampires, eyes locked on the Demons who were just coming into ear shot.

  One finally spoke up. Some Demons enjoyed banter. “I see you have recruited some pets, Jacob.” He wore black sneakers, and his dark, canvas shorts fell just below his knees. Jacob assumed the long shorts were what they all crossed with seeing as it was an article of clothing the lot had in common. Jacob and his company had appeared in washed out jeans and white button-up shirts with collars. All of the Demons were shirtless.

  “They are not pets. They are natives of this world who wish to protect it from your insatiable need to dest
roy,” Jacob snarled.

  Every one of them smiled; an intimidating sight. A dimple appeared in one’s right cheek when he did so. It was clear to Jacob that they could provoke a mouthful of fangs far exceeding Vampires if so desired. Otherwise their teeth were lightly disguised, only telling if the viewer was aware of what to look for.

  “At this moment, they have only you to blame. Worthless Seraph.” The lead Demon’s smile shrank to a malicious smirk.

  Jacob’s attention continued to move across the seven Demons, waiting for a sign of impending attack. They were very nonchalant, like they planned to do nothing. Since their eyes were solid black, it was difficult to discern where or who they were focusing on.

  “You and your destitute Lord will be stopped,” Jacob prodded, hoping to move them into action. Many of them glowered, heads turning in his direction at the insult to their sovereign. It did not last before they were turning their furrowed faces back toward the rest of the opposing assembly. The head Demon continued to stare at him, his scowl depleting.

  “Unlikely. You think all these creatures will be cooperative to your weak army? When they see what we can offer them, your feeble clans will be abandoned. And Nefarion will forget Seraphs exist once he steps onto this plane and finds a whole new world at his disposal.”

  Jacob noticed the tension in the Demon’s bared muscles. He was flexing, preparing.

  “Then what? He decimated Trissana, bled it dry. Who is to say he will have the fortune of finding a gate to yet another world after he has done the same to this one?” Jacob set his right foot back, making it look like a casual movement when really he was bracing himself and signaling his Seraphs to get ready for an attack.

  The Demon’s smile grew again, wisdom lighting his features. “With the way these humans breed, that hindrance could be a long time coming, if not completely avoidable all together.”

  He was right, and the idea sunk in Jacob’s stomach. Though, it provided a plethora of possibilities for both sides. Jacob was not able to ponder it long; apparently the Demon had grown weary of the conversation because he chose the thoughtful moment to initiate the battle.

  Jacob dodged back low and it turned out to be unnecessary because the Demon pounced past him. He turned, moving after the monster, unsure their destination until he realized all the Demons had targeted the Vampires. This did not fully surprise Jacob. It was where the greater number of opposition lay, as well as the weakest of it.

  He did not slow his pursuit even as he watched several Vampires collapse among the group. Jacob had stowed a length of rusty barbed wire beneath his shirt that he now retrieved. He dashed in front the Demon he had been conversing with and, from midair, caught the stake his enemy had tossed, clasping it tightly for a secondary weapon. The Demon roared and snapped at him as he darted past.

  Another two Vampires fell. He continued on, finding Lucas and Elijah wrestling a Demon. He jumped over a dueling Demon and Vampire to use his barbed wire on the Demon in his cohorts’ clutches. He shoved the rusted metal across its throat, screaming as he used all his strength to push it through the muscles of the Demon’s throat. Blood spurted from the wound, momentarily blinding him.

  When he had cleared his vision, Elijah and Lucas were gone and the Demon’s body lay crumbled in the green grass, pumping a generous amount of blood onto the Earth. He heard a dreadful roar behind him and whipped around to find the lead Demon straining against Lucas. The beast grabbed hold of the Seraph’s neck and lifted him effortlessly, tossing him away and into some distracted Vampires. He whipped back toward Jacob, who swung the barbed wire out. The stiff claws of the weapon scraped across the Demon’s face, a deep gash opening in its wake. He did not even flinch. Jacob had learned long ago that most Demons invited pain; it was difficult to use it as a deterrent against their advancement.

  Jacob bowed out of the path of a heavy fist and came up with the stake, lodging it into the soft tissue of the Demon’s stomach. It released a menacing bellow, the sound layered with the familiar voice of their native throat. Red eyes sparked to life, casting light over his assailing arm. Then a vicious blow had Jacob flying sideways several paces and into another hard body. It was Rowdy’s. He grunted and pulled Jacob to his feet at the same time he pulled himself up.

  “I think it is time to flee, Jacob.”

  Jacob could only nod an agreement, head spinning and any fleeting focus remaining rapt on the Demon. Its red-lit eyes stared at him as he jerked the stake out of his torso with another roar.

  As they retreated toward the trees, calling to the others to follow suit, Jacob caught sight of another Demon lying in the grass, a chunk of his neck missing and blood pooling and soaking into the ground beneath him. He also saw more Vampires then he cared to count with holes or stakes in their chest, some of them liquefying and disappearing from existence.

  He stole a glance back just in time to see a Demon crushing a heart in his hand as he watched the Seraphs and Vampires retreat. None of them gave chase. The lead Demon held a hand over the wound in his stomach, blood gushing from underneath it. The lesion on his face already looked to be closing.

  Once in the safety of the tree line, the remaining company slowed. The Demons had not pursued. They continued on at a quick pace regardless.

  “Rowdy, I am sorry for your loss. How many did we lose?” Jacob looked around, counting off moving bodies.

  “Six,” Rowdy replied. “I didn’t believe they would attack so outnumbered.” He slid the fingers of his right hand through the tangle of his hair.

  “I was not sure whether they would or not either. We did eliminate two. That is impressive. At that rate, we have a good chance of destroying the rest before they return to the gate to alert their Lord, or reunite with the Elite Commanders.” Jacob could feel throbbing from the bruise on the side of his face where the Demon had struck him. He rubbed it thoughtlessly.

  “I will not ask you to come with us when we go to hunt them. They are far more lethal than the Demons we encountered today. Sometimes I feel they are truly impossible to kill. You have sacrificed enough for now.” Jacob regarded the Vampire after his remarks.

  He did not respond immediately, rather walked on, looking thoughtful. “No, I will not come with you this time, Jacob. I must reconvene with the group I sent after the Demons to see who came out of it and if they learned anything. Otherwise I need to contact the Elders again.”

  Jacob nodded in understanding. “Do you mind contacting your Vampires near the Gothic Theater to establish if there has been any further contact with the Elite?”

  “That I can do.” Rowdy withdrew a slim phone from his pocket, sliding his thumb across its surface and dialing out.

  8

  The Gothic

  Hunter slid from the passenger side door, his oversized wallet chain getting caught briefly on the buckle of the unused seatbelt. He wore a large black t-shirt that the sleeves had been torn from, the gaping holes falling down to his hips to reveal the profile of his sturdy torso and the tattoo on his left rib cage. His faded jeans were the usual shredded cut-offs that hung raggedly to mid-calf, over his chunky black boots. Syler donned similar attire, his shirt red and mutilated in the same fashion. His jeans were unscathed save for the worn out hem that met the ground under the rough soles of his also heavy black boots. Blood splatter stained the lower legs of his jeans-- easily mistaken for paint or mud. The drops had not yet fully dried.

  They had been down in the inner city, walking, searching, and harassing. The latter was Hunter’s preference; he enjoyed instilling fear in any human that seemed abnormally anxious. Syler often voiced his disdain of killing in the open, but had permitted Hunter to discreetly kill a few homeless wretches. Before they reached the car that they had stolen for the day’s excursions, Syler had taken it upon himself to sate his own bloodlust on a lonely pedestrian who had been making his way through the quiet parking garage where their vehicle was stowed. Hunter had pleased hysterics over Syler’s sudden act of brutality: a slit throa
t and a skull shattered under boot, hence the evidence marring his jeans. Syler had given his cohort a reluctant smile before they disappeared into a black sports car and headed toward the Gothic Theatre, where a popular metal band was about to engage a mass of humans.

  Now the pair was meandering past a cluttered row of teenagers and adults, all relatively clad in black with silver studded accessories and gore-printed t-shirts. Hunter smirked arrogantly as he glanced at each character, his gaze often lingering briefly on a pretty girl in a skimpy black outfit.

  As for Syler, his eyes remained forward; focused, he effortlessly avoided giving attention to the mortals he strolled past. Never letting his guard down, their movements and auras were kept dutifully in his peripheral vision.

  This was the fourth show Hunter and Syler had attended at the Gothic Theatre several days since they had almost come in contact with the key. They had yet to feel her presence there since, but they persisted nonetheless. Hunter claimed that on two of his outings around town he had felt her near, but never could quite find her before the trail disappeared.

  The staff of the theatre had grown accustomed to the pair during their recent and regular visits. They were not a sight one could forget at a second encounter, and their powerful presence and aggressive behavior had allotted them silent VIP passes. They always bought their tickets, so trying to stop them from entering the building without standing in line seemed like an unnecessary invitation for trouble. As for patting them down, no one dared.

  Hunter and Syler strode into the lobby, turning heads as usual. This fact always had Syler tensing. He detested attracting any attention; detested seeming out of the ordinary. But humans were unfortunately enthralled by beauty and naturally curious. And Syler well knew, from his experience with humans, that the Demons’ human forms were flawlessly designed. Their solid black eyes--something he had yet to find a way to disguise--did not assist in deterring attention either. Two great unfortunates: looks that captivated and eyes that piqued curiosity. Though, Syler found if he met stares, for even just a moment, they would drop and often the owner would retreat. This pleased Syler, giving him a sense of control over the inferior race.