by Leo Romero
“I want to strike something down! Now!” said Art in a cold voice. It was the angriest I’d ever heard him. Now we were ready to party.
“Call off your dogs, Killian,” I ordered. “That includes your daughter. Hand over Margaroth, and you can all live. Even the damn Decayed Ones.”
Killian jabbed his claws into his hips. “Who are you to order me around in my home?”
“Not ordering. Warning.”
“Oh, he just gets better and better,” said Morbida. “I can’t wait to have him!”
Her cat call triggered the Decayed Ones. They scuttled in, hands at the ready.
“Slay them without mercy!” Art growled, and I could detect the delight in his voice. I duly obliged.
The first wave of Decayed Ones reached me. I swung Excalibur back and across the air. The first one got its chest split in two. The dark magic sizzled and hissed across its torso, finishing off the decaying process already affecting it. It melted under the strain, the dark spreading out across its body from the gash like tumors. It whirled away, screeching in agony, its hands batting the air like a frustrated child, the stench of rot and death flowing out of it like heat from a furnace.
I immediately thrust the tip of Excalibur into the abdomen of another, halting it in its tracks. With a grunt, I twisted the blade and yanked up, tearing up its body, leaving a trail of dark magic. I retracted my blade, and the thing’s rotten entrails spilled out of the gash like soba noodles. They slopped onto the floor where the dark magic spread over them like fast-acting mold. The resulting stench was like being locked in a morgue during a heatwave.
My nose twitched, but I didn’t have time to think. More Decayed Ones dived in.
“Watch out!” Draxil snapped.
I hacked the air, connecting with the throat of the nearest one, releasing its head, which bounced away, rotten-green blood spurting from the stump. The others took the initiative and made a jump for me. A decayed hand got in my face, the dried and peeling palm shadowing me like a nightmare. I threw up my free hand at the last moment, managing to grab hold of its wrist before it could lay that deadly palm on my face. The thing let out a hiss of frustration as I hacked down on its forearm, slicing off that hand. The Decayed One grabbed hold of what was left of its arm and wheeled away, shrieking. Another one got in my face, and I showed it the palm of the Decayed One’s hand still in my grip. The decaying power of that hand went to work on its face, causing it to putrefy. Its nose fell off, and its eyeballs melted into a gooey mess.
I winced in disgust but pushed that hand further into its face, rubbing it in for good measure. I gave the Decayed One a shove, pushing it into the oncoming bodies of its brothers and sisters. It fell back into them, causing them to sprawl.
“Keep slaying these creatures!” Art growled in delight. I kinda liked Dark Art. He was gnarly.
More Decayed Ones came in for the kill. I sucked in a big breath. I let out a growl as I met them head on, my dark hand fired up and ready for action. I slung a readied shitball at the Decayed One on my left while jabbing Excalibur into the throat of the one ahead of me. The shitball splattered across the Decayed One’s chest before going to work, breaking it down. It whirled away to finish rotting, steam rising from its torso. The one I’d stabbed in the throat grabbed hold of the blade in a desperate attempt to pull it out, all the while gargling on its own blood. The dark spread from the blade across its hands, decaying them further until they withered off. It was forced to watch itself rot away into a pile of gunk as the dark spread up its arms like fire, consuming everything in its path.
I yanked Excalibur back out, turning my attention onto the next wave. I hacked and slashed through them, taking decaying arms and legs with me like I was trying to navigate my way through dense jungle. My dark magic was strong in Hell, and it was melting those assholes with little trouble. After a few more hacks, I left a bunch more on the floor to wither away to ancient dust.
Two ran in at once from the left and right. I swung my sword with a backhand grip, striking the Decayed One on the right in the torso, ripping it open and sending it my dark love. I didn’t have time to watch it spin away and rot to death. I already had my free hand balled up into a fist. The Decayed One on the left bore down on me, all screams and hands. I swung my arm across my chest, my knuckles and the back of my hand connecting with the Decayed One’s head, obliterating the thing’s jaw with a crack. It fell to the side, its jaw hanging off its rotten head like a hammock. It hit the ground, and I raced up to it. I raised Excalibur high above my head. With a grunt, I brought him down.
An unexpected jarring and resounding clang sent me staggering back, my senses all shook up. I regained my focus, and I found myself staring at Morbida. She’d blocked my attack with her poker and was facing me, her weapon ready.
“You wanna join the fun?” I asked her between heavy breaths. The floor was littered with decaying and twitching remains. The few surviving Decayed Ones backed away and watched on, hunched over.
“Foreplay never appealed to me,” she told me. “I want to bring you to heel.”
“Never met a woman yet who could do that, sweetheart.”
“The night has arrived,” she said with an evil grin.
“Step aside, Morb,” Killian ordered. He was standing there behind her, his eyes boiling, hands out to the sides, fingers curled in. Looked like he was ready to fire up whatever dark magic he possessed. “He’s dangerous,” he added.
“That’s why I like him,” Morbida stated, catching her tongue between her teeth. She let out a feral scream and charged, her poker out ahead of her like a lance. My back straightened. I wished I had Bam Bam loaded and ready to take her out before she had a chance to get near me. Instead, I had to jam Excalibur into her advancing poker. There was another reverberating clang, sparks flying as we clashed. The BDSM bitch was strong. She held firm, let out another roar, and swung her poker at me shoulder-height. I slammed down Excalibur, killing the attack. She swung again from the opposite direction and advanced, causing me to backpedal. I jammed Excalibur into the poker, stopping it from connecting with my skull. Another clang and sparks, but she wasn’t stopping. She advanced like a cyborg, raining blows on me. It was like she was supercharged. I was struggling to keep up. She was too strong, her power demonic. She carried on screaming and attacking, her eyes burning with wild rage. Never mind the sadomasochism, she wanted to kill me, beat me to death with that damn poker.
She took hold of it with both hands and swung it down like it was an axe. I managed to hop back in time for it to clang off the stone floor.
“Use your dark magic!” Draxil shouted at me.
Morbida swung her poker. My block was too weak. The blow sent me reeling to the side. As I went, I focused my anger, and a shitball brewed in my palm. Morbida let out a roar and came rushing in. As I spun to face her, I slung my shitball in her direction. She saw it at the last second, dodging it deftly, but neutering her attack in the process. The shitball smashed into the face of a watching Decayed One, who whirled away screaming while its face rotted down. I seized the opportunity. I grabbed my sword with both hands and hacked down on Morbida. She managed to block, but my momentum was too powerful for her. The blow made her lurch. She tripped and fell on her ass.
I was on her in an instant. She lifted her poker in a feeble show of defense.
“Looks like we won’t be going on a second date,” I said to her as I raised Excalibur’s tip, ready to bring it down on her chest.
“Enough!” Killian shouted. My head twitched up. I got a glimpse of a shimmering darkness rising from his hands before erupting outward like a giant cloud. In a split second, the dungeon was plunged into darkness. A thick, smoky darkness. It shot up my nose and into my lungs, and I coughed. Panic split my mind. I couldn’t see anything. I rubbed at my eyes, but it was useless. I was done for.
Killian’s laugh echoed through the inky darkness.
Chapter 18
I staggered back, slashing my sword across t
he air like a blind man, all the while, nightmares playing out in my mind. Things were lurking in the dark ahead of me. They were shuffling, running, giggling. I kept swinging my sword, even though my arm ached. I couldn’t let anything near me.
“Stay calm, Stone,” Draxil said to me.
Easy for him to say. I backed up some more, and I hit the far wall. I flinched in shock, just as a cackle cut through the gloom, reverberating in my mind. I carried on hacking the dark air ahead of me, praying for the darkness to dissipate. I was a dead man. They could pick me off at any moment.
“Close your eyes!” Draxil snapped.
“What?”
“Do as I say! Close your eyes!”
I shut my eyes; they locked for a moment as if they’d been glued shut. Something else took control of them and forced them open. Everything was as dark as before, except my eyeballs were now moving of their own accord.
“That imbecile might think he’s being clever, but I can see through his dark magic,” said Draxil, who’d taken over the use of my eyes. “We’ll work together as a team, Stone. I’ll guide you. When I say fight, you fight.”
I didn’t like it. I’d been told to fight blindfolded, something I’d never done before.
My ears pricked. Something ahead shuffled. I hacked the air in a panic.
“Stop!” Draxil ordered. “Stay calm. I’ll let you know when to attack.”
I took a moment to catch my breath and filled my lungs with air, allowing my mind to calm. I had to trust Draxil.
“Take a step forward and keep your blade ready. They’re toying with you. They think you can’t see.”
I couldn’t frickin’ see!
I stepped forward, my ears pricking at every tiny sound. My breathing was shallow; my heart beat slow and steady. Adrenaline seeped into my veins and pulsed around my body. Walking around blind was like walking around naked. I could feel eyes all over me, could see tongues licking lips in anticipation in my mind.
“Take a step to the right.”
I did as I was told. Everything was eerily silent. Shivers crawled all over me. I was in a tomb, hopefully not my own.
“Stop!”
I came to an abrupt halt, my heart skipping a beat.
“Wait. Wait. Wait.”
A screech tore the air to pieces. The patter of feet on the stone floor slammed on my eardrums like a tribal drumbeat.
“Attack to the right!” Draxil snapped.
I acted on instinct. I jabbed Excalibur to the right, thrusting my arm forward as far as it would go. The tip punched into something. A howl of pain echoed through the darkness.
“To the left!” Draxil shouted.
With a frightened gibber, I pulled Excalibur out of whatever I’d stabbed and performed the same attack to the left. There was a meaty connection again and another wail of agony. I twisted the blade for good measure, the screams of pain ratcheting up in volume.
My mind was a cacophony of fear and hellish sounds.
“Ahead!” Draxil shouted. I snatched a quick breath, withdrew my sword, and thrust it forward ahead of me. I hit the next attacker in the chest, feeling the chop of ribs. I tore Excalibur to the left with both hands, ripping through that torso, leaving the thing to die in the dark, its gargled gibbers petering out.
Everything fell silent.
“Good work, Stone,” said Draxil.
I nodded in appreciation.
The silence continued for a few seconds. It shredded my nerves. I could hardly take a breath; my heart was slamming, sweat pouring. I twisted and turned on the spot in a panic.
“Stay still will you!” Draxil ordered.
My back straightened, and my body became taut.
“Still!”
I held my breath and stood there in the darkness, my nerves frayed to shit, my heart slamming. Man, I didn’t know how much more I could take. Something attack me for Chrissakes!
A howl tore through the darkness. My body jumped into life.
“To the left and right a little!”
Huh? Left and right? What the hell was he on about?
I spun in a small semi-circle of confusion, that feral noise drawing closer like a tidal wave. Left or right?
The scream shot down my eardrums. The stench of rot overpowered my nostrils, and I realized he meant not all the way to the left, only a little to the left. Eleven o’clock.
In a panic, I lunged forward at eleven and prayed. Excalibur’s tip punched through meat. Relief washed over me.
“To the right and left a bit!” Draxil shouted.
“You know clock times would be easier!” I shouted back.
“What is a clock?” Draxil snapped.
“Okay, sundials then!”
“To the right and left a little,” Draxil barked. “Now!”
My mind worked. Right and left. One o’clock! I thrust my sword in that direction and received a satisfying connection, neutering the howls. They faded out, silence taking over.
“Well done, Stone. That’s the last of the Decayed Ones.”
Thank God for that!
“Now, we have the flayer and his rancid daughter to contend with.”
And Dickhead. Don’t forget about him.
“Proceed with caution, Stone. They’re devious. They won’t be as easy to kill as the Decayed Ones.”
Of course not. Why would they? It’s not as if anything’s ever easy. Why can’t anyone just play a simple game of cards without resorting to cheating?
I stepped forward, my foot stubbing a piece of Decayed One. I kicked it away and moved forward in that sea of darkness, adrenaline flowing through me. I was a blind man with his sword. Zatoichi. Now there’s an obscure pop culture reference for the nerds.
I moved through that dungeon with tentative steps, horribly aware of the two demons I was sharing the room with. I turned my head left and right, trying to pick up sounds. I was getting faint breathing. The scratch of boot on stone. A cackle erupted somewhere ahead of me and dissolved to the right of me.
“Enough games, Killian!” I said. “Fight me man to man.”
“The games have only just begun,” he said back. “There’s nothing like toying with the mouse before slaughtering it.”
A scrape of metal on stone made my ear prick. I spun to the left.
“She’s coming in for the attack!” Draxil warned. “Raise your sword!”
I did as he ordered, throwing up Excalibur at a sideways angle. A clang reverberated through the room as her poker slammed against my blade, the impact staggering me.
“Block again!” Draxil shouted.
I got my sword up again; there was another connection and clang. I jumped back, hoping to get out of her range. As I did, the sound of footsteps played in my mind.
“Killian is coming up behind you. He’s got a spiked club! Move to the left.”
I took a quick sidestep to the left, feeling the wind of something whistling by. There was a thud as something hit the stone floor.
“Duck!” Draxil shouted. I ducked on instinct and something whipped over my head with a whoop!
My mind was in a whirl. I hardly had time to breathe.
“Attack from behind incoming!”
I spun and used my sword to block. Something struck my blade before it could hit my face, and I managed to get upright again.
“The left!”
I turned and swung my sword. It connected with Morbida’s poker, parrying the attack.
“The right!”
Oh boy! I turned and swung my sword again. Killian’s club struck it, almost knocking it out of my grip. I managed to hold on, despite the pain jolting up my wrist.
“Duck!”
I threw myself down. Something swung overhead. I didn’t know how much more I could take. My body and mind were tiring fast.
“Incoming from the left!”
I got a quick shitball going and slung it instinctively in that direction. There was a splat, and Mobida’s scream ripped through the dungeon. Bullseye!
> Killian roared in anger. I spun in the direction of his voice.
“Move to the right!”
I swung my body that way, turning it sideways. Killian bundled by me as he tried to slam his club down. I threw out a leg, managing to trip him up. The sound of someone sprawling on the ground hit me, and I knew I had him down. Now to finish him.
I marched forward, taking Excalibur’s hilt in both my hands. I raised the blade high. My feet stubbed his body, and I knew I was towering over him.
“No, you fool!” Draxil shouted. “We need him alive!”
“I’m not getting out here alive if I don’t.” I breathed in deep and drove my sword down with all my might. It crunched into something meaty. I pushed down hard, clenching my teeth. Killian shrieked in torment as I twisted my blade.
The moment I did, my vision returned. I was back in the dungeon. The smoky darkness had receded, and Draxil had returned my eyes to me. My pupils refocused to the dim light. Withered remains littered the ground. By my feet was Killian. He was writhing and bleeding, Excalibur rammed into his back.
Something squirming ahead of me caught my attention. Morbida. She was on the ground as well, my dark magic from the shitball I threw at her sizzling and steaming across her body. It had hurt her but wasn’t killing her. Only a divine blade would do that. I pulled Excalibur out from her father, and he stayed there, twitching.
I wiped the sweat from my brow as I made my way over to her. She slapped at the gunk splattered over her in a frenzy. I looked down at her and grinned. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m gonna have to call it quits. I just want you to know it wasn’t you, it’s me.”
“You piece of diseased shit!” she sneered.
“Potty mouth,” I said. “You shouldn’t use that kind of language in front of Daddy.” I pointed at Killian’s corpse. I raised Excalibur above her.
“Do it!” she screeched.
I plunged Excalibur into her chest. “Ah! That as good for you as it is for me?” I asked her.
