Tainted Blood Anthology

by Jeff Gunzel

  Flopping like a fish out of water, Viola’s mouth began to foam white froth. Face contorted in agony, the pain was so great that she couldn’t even scream. “Help her sit up!” Kalmton ordered. Salina and Nald grabbed her twitching body and helped lean her up. “They’ve tormented her like an animal long enough. Hold her steady. I’m ending this now!” He raised his sword.

  “Do it,” said Salina, grabbing a handful of Viola’s hair to help steady her head. It was imperative he didn’t miss. Nald dropped his blade with full force, the pommel clanging squarely off the metal collar around her neck. “Again!” Salina shrieked, straining to hold her still. It took a tremendous amount of force to keep Viola’s thrashing body still. One wrong slip and...

  Nald measured, then crashed his blade down again. Then again. The heavy clanking sounds turned into hollow crunches, like gravel underfoot. Tiny cracks began to form in the metal, each one glowing white, no doubt a power leak of some sort. With a final strike, the collar blasted away in a blinding flash, sending the three of them tumbling backward. Viola gasped, falling face first into the sand. She rolled to her back, gulping air as if she had been drowning.

  Blinking away the spots in her vision, Salina crawled towards her, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Viola. Viola!” she said, placing her hands up on her chest.

  “I’m all right,” Viola gasped through heavy breaths. “Thank you. Thank you. I—” Lying face up, her brow furrowed as she gazed up to the sky.

  “I will have her whipped!” Milo roared, fists trembling with rage. “Have the humans executed, then bring me that bitch! She’s about to learn—” His eyes fixed up to the sky. “No,” he whispered, watching as the hydrogriphs soared high above the pit. “No. No, it can’t be.”

  Like gentle snowflakes on a winter’s day, white ash began to fall.

  Chapter 14

  Thousands of horrified faces looked at the sky, their mouths gaping open in disbelief. One would have to be living in a cave to not know what was happening. They were here. The ghatins were preparing to attack! A single scream from the crowd was instantly echoed by hundreds. Like a landslide of thick mud, the packed people turned and began moving as one. The scene turned chaotic as people pushed and shoved, knocking others to the ground in an attempt to flee. Those who fell stayed down, unable to get back to their feet as they were trampled underfoot.

  Already being near the edge of the pit, the group was largely unaffected by the raging stampede heading the opposite way. As the crowd thinned, crushed bodies could be seen here and there. Already the situation had turned tragic, and the worst was yet to come.

  “Get the horses!” Liam ordered, eyeing the field to the east where they were tied up. Nearly all had abandoned their mounts, so there were several to choose from. “The people must be led to safety.”

  “I’m not leaving her here!” Xavier protested, looking down at Viola. “I won’t abandon her, not again.”

  “Xavier, we have no time for this!”

  “Did ye forget your pledge, boy?” Owen asked, jabbing a finger into Xavier’s chest. “You swore an oath the day you bonded yourself to me. Demons across these lands tremble when our names are whispered. We hunt them wherever they hide, driving them from the shadows if we must. That’s what we do, and not every job is going to pay. Sometimes ye just got to do the right thing. These people need us, and I’m not going to turn me back on them.”

  Xavier groaned, gripping fistfuls of his own hair in frustration. The thought of leaving her again was agonizing. Still, he knew Owen was right. He had indeed sworn an oath, pledging himself in service to this lifestyle. Few people could do the things he and the hunter were capable of, and that made them unique. Irreplaceable. Turning his back on those in need was not an option.

  “Liam and I will watch over her,” Jarlen said. Xavier eyed him, still not certain he trusted this man. “I give you my word no harm will come to her,” Jarlen added, seeing the doubt in Xavier’s eyes.

  “Very well,” Xavier replied. “But if anything happens to her, I will hold you responsible.”

  “As you should,” Jarlen agreed. Watching over her now was the least he could do. Surely he owed her that much. Owen turned and streaked towards the horses. The big man could run when he wanted to. After a last glare directed at Jarlen, Xavier gave chase to catch up with his master.

  “I’m going with them,” Thatra said after a moment’s hesitation. A warrior at heart, she could not stand by while they selflessly put themselves in harm’s way for the good of others.

  In a blink, the three were mounted and galloping down the hill. Both sides of the road were packed, folks running in a blind panic as ash fell all around them. The plan was to get ahead of the rushing mob and lead them back into the city. There was no guarantee they would be safe behind those walls, but staying out here meant certain death. But that plan changed quickly when waves of white exploded up from the ground all around them. It was too late. The ghatins were on them and the city gate was still too far away. They would have to fight.

  A pink-eyed wall of white rushed in from the left side, its arm flattening into a blade as it swept across the running humans with incredible range. With that single swing, body parts tumbled into the air, spirals of blood twirling from ends of severed limbs. Heads, upper torsos sliced unevenly, and countless chunks of flesh and bone landed along the road in a rain of gore. It was a rout in the making. These humans were woefully unequipped to deal with such beings.

  Thatra veered her horse, charging the first ghatin she saw at full speed. Better to take the fight to them than get picked off by their superior range. Sword in hand, she sliced right through it as she galloped past. To her horror, her blade met no resistance. It was like trying to cut smoke. They were immune to her steel! From behind, a blinding flash of pain ripped through her side, sending her tumbling off her mount. Her back slamming the ground with a heavy jolt, her limp body went rolling down the hill.

  *

  Owen and Xavier galloped side by side, weaving in and out between the fleeing city folks. Owen signaled, his fingers flashing urgently. Xavier nodded, then broke left while his master rode on. Hopping up, he stood on the horse’s back while still riding and reached to his back, unsheathing his silver blades. He clanged them together above his head, the weapons doubling their blades. With white men popping up all around cutting down folks like weeds, he snapped his wrists, sending the bladed spheres spinning through the air. Defying gravity, they hovered around him in slow circles, his guiding fingers twitching ever so slightly.

  Three more white men popped up on the side of the road, their flesh blades lashing out, humans falling by the dozens. With a flick of Xavier’s wrist, one spinning disk flashed through all three, their bodies disintegrating into puffs of white powder. But the hanging mist began to reshape. The dry powdery clouds were reassembling right before his eyes. His alloy-dipped weapons were more effective than Thatra’s normal blade, but it still wasn’t enough to kill them. It only seemed to disrupt their physical forms for a short time.

  Xavier spun his weapons left and right, slashing white forms wherever he saw them. The situation was getting desperate. They seemed to be reforming just as fast as he could strike them down. The death toll was rising and the dirt road was turning red with blood.

  Still standing on his mount, he raised his hands to summon the return of his weapons. When the blades snapped back into his palms, he threw them to either side, striking two more ghatins, turning them into smoke on impact. He threw back his cloak, revealing the rows of half-moon blades strapped across his chest. His ringed fingers danced across them, touching each one before he threw his hands in the air.

  The blades levitated, floating above him in a most eerie display where physics no longer seemed to apply. He leaped off the back of his horse, flipping through the air as his levitating steel burst into motion. Two more ghatins turned to dust before he completed his back flip, then another three when he landed.

  Dropping to one kn
ee, his fingers twitched again, sending individual blades streaking outward at multiple angles. But even as new ghatins went up in smoke, those he had already struck down were already reshaping themselves. Soon, they would be ready to strike again. But a small victory had been won. Being seen as the only real threat, he had drawn the ghatins’ attention to himself and away from those trying to get to the city. Better one die than hundreds.

  Xavier growled, his blades dancing in circles as the ghatins closed in. No longer did he hold out any hope of surviving. The plan had changed. If he could survive long enough to keep the ghatins focused on him, perhaps a few more humans might escape. Every second counted. He roared, his blades flashing out in a bloom of steel.

  He would fight like a savage to gain them one more second. That was what he signed on for. He always knew it would end like this.

  *

  Pushing his horse to its absolute limit, Owen charged on to get ahead of the fleeing mob. Diving off while his mount was still on the move, he hit the ground then rolled twice to soften the landing. Springing to his feet, he drew his blades as white men converged. Not unlike his student, they could sense he was a far bigger threat than any of these peasants, one that needed to be eliminated quickly.

  Sheets of white washed over him like ocean waves, those bright pink eyes glaring down, threatening to swallow him whole. Steel flashed, causing the descending walls of white to vaporize before ever touching him.

  Charging through the white, powdery cloud, Owen rushed another on the other side of the road. Looming over a fallen man, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky, the ghatin noticed the hunter at the last second. Its flesh blades fired out. Owen deflected the first with a hard a crack, then rolled under the second. Rising before the ghatin, he made short work of the creature with a single thrust. Dust scattered, those pink eyes seeming to hang in the air like a ghostly afterglow. They judged Owen, hated him. Finally, the eerie eyes faded away.

  Sensing danger, the hunter ducked under the blade rushing in from behind, dropping to his knees as he released his swords. Hands crossing his chest, he slapped each shoulder and pulled two clear rings simultaneously. A spray of bladed darts fired from each shoulder, turning three more ghatins to dust. Orfi’s most recent upgrades to Owen’s battle suit were already coming in handy.

  Screaming people rushed past him while ghatins kept springing up from the ground, hacking and slashing, their flesh blades covering great distances to kill four or five at a time. Although it seemed he could win the one-on-one battles as they came, it would take all day to do so. They were everywhere! He needed to use his entire arsenal just to slow them down.

  Owen rolled his shoulders, his hidden crossbows tearing free from their cloth compartments as they rode up the tracks on his arms, then auto-locked to his wrists. Despite the chaos all around him, his booming voice still carried on the wind. “Everybody down!” he ordered. Without any real thought to challenge the authority of this powerful figure, bodies dropped. Men and women lay flat on the ground and covered their heads.

  The hunter roared, his arms sweeping back and forth as blinding light consumed the area in a flickering light show. Rotors clacking away, waves of orange projectiles tore through the ghatins, turning them to dust. The air grew thick with smoke, both from the crossbows as well as the creatures turning to powder. Seconds later it was over. So much violence released in such a short period of time. Yet their bodies were already beginning to reform. Owen knew all he had managed to do was buy a little more time.

  *

  Drifting sheets of white circled Xavier, their numbers seeming to grow by the second. His blades whirled, dancing on the ends of invisible threads. The surrounding ghatins converged at once, seeking to overwhelm this nuisance of a human. At the last second the puppet master threw his hands in the air, his dancing blades spinning straight up as if caught in a tornado. Slamming his fists to the ground, they plummeted, the whirling steel spiking through ten ghatins at once, their bodies bursting into white powder.

  Having cleared some space around him, Xavier reached beneath his cloak to retrieve a handful of small disks. Like tossing playing cards from the top of a deck, his wrist snapped with rapid speed, dishing them out in all directions. Upon hitting the ground, colored cones sprouted up like trees. Most missed their targets, the glowing cones of blue and red sitting like empty shells. But others sprung up right beneath the ghatins, capturing them fast. The ones who were held seemed to be frozen in time, featureless faces contorted in rage. Those caught in Xavier’s demon traps were not dead, but effectively out of the fight indefinitely while trapped in these energy cones.

  But for each one trapped, there seemed to be ten to take its place. Time. I just need to buy them time, Xavier thought, reaching beneath his cloak for another fistful of disks. Realizing he would never see Viola again, he tried to force down the dark thought so he could concentrate on the task at hand. It was hard. It hurt. Too late now, fool. Just do your job and buy the people a little more time!

  *

  Jarlen, Liam, and Assirra stood back to back as white lumps circled them, sliding across the white-powdered ground like speeding turtles. They could hear the sounds of battle raging from beyond, and only hoped that the other three were not as outnumbered as they were. But these white men were everywhere, and it was likely they were dealing with a similar situation. Liam began to mumble to himself, his harmonious words reminiscent of a song. “Now!” he grunted, hammering the butt end of his staff into the ground.

  The other two dropped down just as the ground erupted in waves of white. Warped, thin and waving like the sails of a boat, ghatins blasted up all around them. Liam whirled about, the curled horns of his goat’s head staff unfurling. The staff’s eyes flashed red, its skeletal mouth opening wide. Liquid fire spewed forth, a perfectly straight projectile of blue and red flame. The hot spray coated the surrounding ghatins, causing them to shriek before their bodies crumbled. But the fallen ash already began reassembling, blobs of white paste inching towards each other like caterpillars.

  Down on her knees, Assirra covered the back of her head, her face pressed against the dirt. She was largely helpless in a situation like this. Having only the ability to heal and resurrect, she could do nothing to help them in battle.

  Another rushed Jarlen from the opposite side. With a reflexive twitch, Jarlen’s arm fired out, piercing it right through the chest with a bladed hand. It shrieked like a whistle, its pink eyes bulging with agony and horror. Black smoke coiled up from its chest, the edges of the wound charring while crumbling away. Its impossibly wide mouth snapped open like a toothless puppet’s, releasing a bloodcurdling screech. The blackening flesh spread, consuming its whole body. Suddenly, it ignited in a flash of blue fire. The flame roared for only an instant, then winked out, leaving behind nothing but a charred husk. The husk crumbled into nothing as black ash blew away on the wind.

  Jarlen turned to see Liam staring, the old man’s mouth hanging wide open in awe. “You can hurt them,” Liam said quietly, as if not quite believing his own words. “You can kill them!” he repeated, louder. Jarlen said nothing, gazing down at his own hands. He didn’t understand it any more than Liam did, but it did appear to be true.

  Liam’s mind raced. So many questions, so many possibilities to contemplate, but now was certainly not the time for any of that.

  Liam glanced down into the pit where Viola waited, those same three humans standing by her side. “You must go to her, Jarlen!” Liam ordered, guiding his staff left and right, preparing to repel the next wave. Jarlen appeared hesitant. “It is too late for regrets,” Liam said, watching Jarlen closely. “A man’s eyes never lie. I’ve known for some time that you had betrayed your sister, and now you fear she will never forgive you.”

  Jarlen winced at the perceptive human’s words. How did he know? “She doesn’t want my help,” he said, looking away in shame.

  “And yet she needs it nonetheless,” Liam confirmed, raising an eyebrow. “There is n
othing one can do to change the past, but the future is still an open book. You made a promise to Xavier. He is counting on you, as am I.” He glanced back down at her. “This is not a time for foolish pride to take hold, neither yours or hers.” Liam stepped back, gripping his staff while looming over Assirra protectively. “I’ll stay with Assirra, but you need to go! Don’t let the past define the present. Go!”

  *

  “We have to get out of here,” Kalmton said, watching the white lumps speed around the sandy floor, circling the area like sharks. The winds had increased, causing him to shout over the sound of rushing air.

  “That way,” Viola shouted, pointing towards one of the half-open gates. Kalmton and Nald raced to it, then rolled beneath the sharp pointed bars near the bottom. They expected Viola to be right behind them. But before they even got back their feet, they heard the clacking of the gate coming down. After kicking it closed, Viola struck the latch with her flesh blade, mangling it so the gate could not be opened again.

  Nald rushed to the closed gate, his fingers gripping the grated bars. “What are you doing?” he gasped, shaking the bars as if to try and break free. “Viola!”

  Kalmton moved up on his right, a deep sadness in his eyes. “We’re going to get out of here together, remember?” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry, Kalmton,” she said, placing both hands against the gate. She clasped their fingers through the bars, Kalmton’s in her right hand, Nald’s in her left. It was the closest thing they could have to a farewell hug. “I must break my promise. It is me they are after, not you. And I will not put either of you in harm’s way.” Her fingers slipped from theirs as she turned. “Go back to the barracks and hide until it’s over,” she called over her shoulder, ignoring their pleas for her to come with them. “I shall never forget either of you.”

  She stopped in her tracks, finding herself face to face with Salina. The woman had a strange look in her eyes. There was danger all around, yet somehow she seemed completely focused on Viola instead. “Go to the south gate,” Viola ordered, pointing. “I will seal you in. Hurry, there’s no time!”