by Greg Dragon
Alysia went to sleep after a few minutes and then woke up in the familiar field of flowers in Yalem. Blue lilies were everywhere, so tall that it appeared as a vast blue ocean, broken only by a bright yellow path.
“Okay, gotta get to the girls … and Dad,” Alysia mumbled as she stood up and dusted off her hands.
She looked up into the yellow sky and then the mountains in the distance. It was always so peaceful there that she wished that she had time to stay and enjoy the scenery. She wondered if access to Yalem would still be open once she killed the sixth demon elite. She hadn’t felt the demon after killing the last one and she didn’t feel it now, which she found odd. I wonder if there even is a sixth demon, she thought as she walked towards the yellow pathway.
When she got to the path, she clasped her hands, focusing everything on the idea of the barracks and the feelings she had for her father. It was always an effort to put other thoughts aside in order to focus, but the worry she had for her friends made it easy and the path began to shimmer the way it did whenever she was returning to the world. The path went from shimmering to writhing and bucking, like a wave of gold, moving as if it meant to throw her from its surface, and before long it did and everything was black.
The darkness appeared again, but this time there was the sensation of floating. Alysia readied herself for what she would appear into and after a few minutes, she was standing in front of a battered stone building—the barracks. It was late evening, and she saw that Jasmine was walking around with her sword out.
“Jazz!” Alysia shouted, and the tall girl glanced at her wickedly before recognizing who it was and running over to give her a hug.
“They killed Koko, CeeCee! She went to go spy on Hope and they killed her. Now your father is there and is in trouble, too. Isobel went to go help him but she hasn’t been back in an hour. I can still feel her, CeeCee, but if I leave Tracy and the baby…” Jasmine said in such a fast bout of rambling that it took Alysia a few seconds to absorb what she was saying and break it down into meaningful information.
“So my dad’s in the woods, captured or in trouble, Isobel went to help him but has been gone for a long time, and Koko is dead,” Alysia said, trying to see if she got it all or if something was missing.
“Yes, we are in a lot of trouble. I tried to call lord Chaos, because Hope seems to be very powerful. He doesn’t respond, CeeCee. I think we are all alone.”
“He will not answer because we have betrayed him,” Alysia said. She ignored the part about the baby; her intuition had told her as much when she saw that her father had chosen to run, looking for safety instead of staying to help her fight. “So you’re guarding Tracy and Izzy’s gone hunting?” she asked and Jasmine nodded. “I can feel her. Wait for me, Jasmine.”
She took off sprinting towards the area of the woods where Isobel’s life force had screamed out to her for help. She came upon the path that led back into the blackness, and she saw traces of blood, Isobel’s blood, splattered across the tree trunks that bordered the path leading back. She pulled out Euphoria and took to the branches, skipping across them with light steps, the way Isobel had taught her to do, a technique mastered by the lord of Chaos.
She increased her speed, following her senses while pushing aside any feelings of doubt that threatened to slow her pace or loosen her resolve. She came upon an area where the trees had seen combat. There were nicks in the bark, and footprints scattered about the ground. Beneath a mound of fallen leaves lie a red cloak and white dress, and out of one part of the dress was the pale, twitching hand of Isobel.
Alysia fought back against the need to jump down and save her, knowing it was a trap. It would be Hope, this man or woman named Hope that Jasmine had warned her about. She slowed her breathing and probed the air, looking for a demon. It would have to be a powerful warrior since it had managed to kill Koko and wound Isobel in a way that rendered her helpless. She felt nothing in the air as she waited, and could see nothing below her branch. She activated the armor, jumped down to Isobel, and pulled the leaves back to uncover her body.
Since the time when the giants fought outside of her school and brought in the lunacy that was this demon invasion, Alysia had seen her fair share of terrible things. The state that Isobel, her tiny, innocent Isobel was in defied anything she had seen, even in her worst nightmares. It made her heart skip and tightened the already tight armor, and a new pain came forth from her eyes. Hot tears pushed out as she stared down at the mangled, bloody mess that was her friend.
She looked around to see if she could see anyone creeping close. There was no one and it made her very uneasy. Maybe it pushed on to get to the barracks where pregnant Tracy and Jasmine are by themselves, she wondered. Wait, Jaime will be there. Jazz forgot to mention him but he should be there; they would be safe in numbers, and Tracy knows what to do. I need to get Isobel back so that she can heal, with me and Jazz there to help. She can be back to form in no time.
She looked down at the blood-streaked face of Isobel, and the bullet-ridden holes that stayed open in her face. She leaned in close and kissed her forehead.
“You brave little sprite, you will be alright. We will get you better, I promise you we will, and then we can go somewhere where you no longer have to drag your heavy sword around.”
“Cee …. Cee?” the girl whispered, and more tears fell from Alysia’s eyes as she nodded her head, sat up, and took her hand.
“It’s me,” she whispered to Isobel.
“Gotcha!” a woman’s deep voice said from somewhere behind her and a shot rang out, catching Alysia in the back of her head and sending her spiraling into darkness.
Chapter Four
There are men who fight when there is no other option, and there are men who fight because they like it. James Knight was one of the latter when he grew up on the streets of South Florida, knocking other boys out for money and putting the videos up on social media. Anybody who knew “little Jimmy” back then knew that it didn’t take much for him to knock you out. He knew where to hit the boys to hurt them, and he knew that punching your jaw in the right place would put you to sleep. The other kids feared him—they really feared him—because they knew that in a one-on-one, Jimmy would probably win.
Growing up as an orphan being raised by his grandmother, James Knight stayed in trouble. Ask her about it and her Jimmy was a saint, but the kids in the neighborhood knew that there were only two ways to stop a kid like Jimmy Knight: through a bullet, or through an extended stay in prison.
Luckily for Jimmy, his written future of criminality was cut short by the death of his grandmother, and a forced move to Michigan, where he was taken in by his uncle, Colin. Lots of things happened to Jimmy under Uncle Colin. He found a father figure that seemed to know every trick in the book that a thirteen-year-old could pull. He found a military man who loved to box, and Jimmy learned that a punch from an old war man is probably worse than a bullet in the streets. Above everything else, he found someone who cared. Not that his grandmother hadn’t cared, but his uncle could identify with him on just about every issue that he was going through.
Uncle Colin beat him down, educated him, and reinvented him into a soldier. So when it came time for him to join the military and continue a tradition that had been in the family for male Knights, he took it a step above. He became a US Navy SEAL, and though Uncle Colin would never admit to him what it meant to see how far he had come, James saw it in his face every time that he made it back home.
During the intense training and especially on the battlefield, the true essence of James Knight came out. He was a fighter, a warrior through and through. It was a fact that had never changed since his days of bare-knuckle brawls in the street. When the music was on and the gods called their warriors into the circle to dance, James Knight was Gregory Hines in tap shoes.
The bodies of the black-clad warriors who had poured into the clearing to kill James Knight were strewn about in a variety of positions. Some were crawling to get into a b
etter position to die, and others merely looked at him, wondering when it was that he would finish them off. The big man was on a knee in the center, staring up into the dark evening sky trying to suck in air. His lungs were on fire, and his muscles burned from overuse. He leaned against Koko’s blade, trying his best not to topple over.
They had come at him at all angles, but he wasn’t going to die without seeing the face of his children once again—both children. CeeCee would be back and he wanted to hug her, kiss her, and apologize for running. He also wanted to see Tracy give birth to the new girl or boy. He knew his/her name already—though Alysia wouldn’t like it—Kendra if it was a girl, and Kendal if it was a boy. Either way the child came out, it would be the life representation of his former wife. That baby would need a father, one that would teach him how to survive in the new, messed up world they lived in. No demon would take that privilege away from him, and that was why he fought and won.
He looked around at the carnage and tried to suppress a smile. He still had it, the killer instinct that his commanding officers used to praise him to the high heavens for, and the instinct that had brought him so much shame when it came to fitting in as a civilian. He was good at fighting, yes; that had been his reality since the day he was born. But most of all, he was good at killing, a fact no one knew unless they had served with him on the missions he had been given back when he was active. If Maria had known about him, she would not have wasted her army on him. Yet here he knelt, alive, with a sword so stained by demon blood that the blade seemed black beneath the sinking sun.
James stood up and stepped over the fallen bodies, sinking the sword into the spine of a wretch that reached out to him in one last desperate attempt. He made to walk back down the path that had led him to the clearing, but he paused, swaying in that drunken-like stupor of tiredness like a tree about to fall. He had seen the area where Maria had emerged from, and he was curious as to what the camp of someone wicked like her would look like.
He stomped across the bodies, back through the two trees that bordered the pathway from which Maria had emerged. He twisted the bezel on his watch as far as it could go, and he could hear the creatures of the night flinch back from the bright light that shone from his wrist.
He took the arm with the watch and grabbed his own collar like he always did whenever he used it as a flashlight. His right hand gripped the sword that had once been Koko’s and he held it backwards, ready for anything as he stepped over fallen logs and pushed through the brush. A stench hit him, the wind bringing the full force of it through the trees and it was so ripe and powerful in its warm, foul odor that he was reduced to fits of coughing as his lungs begged him to find better air.
He had only walked for a minute before he came upon what could only be described as a shrine. Well, it was a shrine from the worst horror stories since it looked to be a mountain of naked, rotted corpses.
James Knight removed his watch and clipped it to his chest so that he could hold the sword with two hands. The mountain was an abomination, and he found that despite its horrible makeup, he could not look away. He examined the bodies and noticed that they were not merely thrown on top of one another to form the mountain. Instead, their limbs were interlocked, legs bending in ways they shouldn’t, and arms hooked into other arms to create an object that seemed to be as solid as it was offensive. He looked closer at it and began to recognize some of the clothing. These were innocents pulled from the bunker and murdered to create whatever this was.
His eyes climbed up to the top, where a woman was tied to a black obelisk with strange glyphs dancing on its surface. James shook his head and climbed the smooth slant of the corpse mountain, wincing internally as flesh broke away easily beneath his weight, and the texture of the foundation beneath his steps keeping it evident that he was stepping on dead people.
When he reached the obelisk he almost fell down. The appalling structure had outdone itself with an even more appalling symbol. Chained to the obelisk, Angelica, the woman he had known as Maria’s mother, had been kept alive somehow. Her eyes revealed the type of ferocity one might see in a rabid animal, wracked with disease. Her dress, the jewelry, and the presence read Angelica, but what was in front of him was a deadly ghoul.
He tried to make sense of it. If that was indeed Maria down there, commanding demons and killing her friends, this could be her mother. Maybe the young girl had lost her mind and was being controlled by her mother’s vengeful spirit … yeah, if this was a comic book, he thought to himself, then flashed his light around to get more clues.
At the base of the mountain he saw the naked, emaciated body of Koko. He jumped down, his landing producing the gooey snapping of what he assumed were bones, and ran over to her to see if she was truly dead. Her eyes were black, completely black, like bulbs that had been burned out. He felt for a pulse, touched her skin, but Koko was gone and it brought him a deep sadness. He lifted her up and was about to walk out when he saw Jaime. They had started to intertwine his limbs into the base of the mountain but had stopped prematurely, leaving half of his body clothed and hanging out.
The big man flashed the light around to see what else was in the small clearing. From what he saw, there were only trees and whatever evil feared his light. So he made a decision that he knew would not be wise, but he could not allow the desecration to be left the way it was. He sheathed the sword and began the chore of finding dry branches and leaves. He didn’t care if it took him all night, because something inside of him knew that the mountain and the ghoul would need to be removed before he went after Maria.
~ * ~ * ~
Tracy McLeay walked out of the barracks dressed as if she were about to go to war. She had the large rifle that James coveted in her arms, and an assortment of smaller weapons strapped to her legs and arms. She saw Jasmine near the line of the woods, staring into its blackness. The whole situation gave her pause, but when James set out and hadn’t returned for several hours, she knew he was either hurt or worse.
“Everything okay out here, Jasmine?” she asked, and the tall girl threw up her hand quickly to tell her to be quiet.
“Go back into the house, Tracy. Please go back quickly. It’s about to be bad,” she rambled, her hand on her sword and her legs locked into a stance of preparation.
“The hell I will,” Tracy announced, and slipped to the side of the barracks where she had the wall for cover and could still see Jasmine. She lay on her side and flipped the stand on the rifle. If anything came out of those woods to attack the girl, she would be ready for them in an instant.
Maria slipped through the crack of the woods to face Jasmine, and fired a single round at the young girl’s face. Tracy fired back with a few shots of her own, but she noticed that Jasmine had somehow moved before the demon could fire her gun. A noise brought Tracy around as the door to the bunker flew open, and all of the horrors that had sealed themselves away for who knows how long were pouring out to join the fun. She hoped that Jasmine would be enough to hold Maria and spun around to focus her fire on the demons that were hobbling out of the bunker. She got up after they stopped coming for a time and ran into the barracks, locking doors, securing windows and piling up more guns near a window.
Once she was sure that it was secure enough to prevent any nasty surprises, Tracy sat on a chair, secured her elbow, and began firing again on the demons coming out.
“Not my baby,” she mumbled as she shot round after round into them. They were only coming out one at a time so it was easy to pick them off, but after a time she risked a glance to where Jasmine was fighting to make sure she was okay. The tall girl never seemed extremely graceful, but Maria was now fighting her with her own sword, and Jasmine was dodging and attacking in a way that made her seem like a natural dancer.
“Fight, Jazzy, fight!” Tracy screamed, and kept on dropping the demons that were meaning to take advantage of them.
Jasmine had been recruited by Chaos for her skills as a fighter, but she was no sword-trained natural
like Alysia Knight. Even Koko had been quite notorious in her home world before Chaos snagged her to join his army. What Jasmine had was spirit, but it was something extraordinary that only came about when the end was truly near and she was forced to act. She parried strokes, moved around in circles, and darted in and out like a seasoned Tomcat that had seen over a hundred battles. It was impressive, especially since she seemed like the weakest of their group, at least to Tracy.
There was more noise from the surrounding forest as two kreples broke through and threw themselves at Maria and Jasmine. The two women answered with quick cuts, killing the creatures instantly, but even more broke through, along with demons, and they were forced to put their battle to the side.
“What the hell is this?” Maria screamed, keeping her sword pointed at Jasmine as she directed the questions to the approaching demons. They all stopped within their tracks and bowed to her as more came through beneath the moonlight, forming a crowd of red and black bodies that knelt to bow as soon as they were close enough.
Tracy had managed to overheat her rifle, but as she looked out, she saw that there were too many for her to realistically deal with. Jasmine and Maria were in the only patch of green free of demons, and they were bowing to her as if she was some sort of newly crowned queen. Maria was smiling, and she held her other arm out as if to embrace the power. Some of the demons began howling and turning into black dust, the dust blew in towards Maria, who absorbed it while laughing as it took to her easily.
Somewhere off to the side, a pair of demons had managed to grab Jasmine. They held her still while Maria underwent the transformation, and without thinking much about the repercussions, Tracy aimed the now-cool rifle at Maria’s head and fired a single round. Almost simultaneously, an explosion went off, and a tall fire appeared in the woods. Maria spun to look up at the flames, despite the shadows that were whipping everywhere, and screamed loudly out of frustration and pain. The bullet hadn’t killed her, and it would heal in time, but the fire was what did damage to her now that she saw it.
