by Eddie Patin
Then, Jason shouldered his AK and looked down the sights at the approaching giants.
Three ettins, he thought. He eyed the shallow, muddy pools they were crossing to reach him. Lightning gun, he thought.
Taking careful aim, Jason fired off shot after careful shot at the ettin in the lead. It was hard to see, but his night vision barely made it possible. He wasn't sure if he was hitting or not, but after eight rounds, he saw the monster sag to one side and collapse into the water.
"Okay, you fuckers!" Jason shouted, his nerves on fire and wild with pain. "Let's try something new!"
Jason clicked his AK's safety back on then let the rifle drop. Alive with agony, he pulled the lightning gun. Taking aim at the next ettin through its weird, silvery sights, he let her rip.
There was a crack, and a zig-zagging line of electricity streaked through the storm more quickly than Jason's eyes could follow, striking the ettin exactly where he was aiming at in its gross, half-fat/half-muscled belly. There was an orange flare as if Jason's shot had started a fire on the ettin's skin. The distant monster immediately dropped its spear and spasmed its arms, but didn't fall. Jason shot him again. As his second shot struck the ettin's chest—as quick as a laser—Jason saw another burst of flames. The ettin shouted a bestial sound and fell to the water, smoking. Jason expected to see arcs of lightning spreading outward around it on the water's surface, but the last ettin continued on past the body, unzapped.
Electron particle beam, Jason thought, his mind on fire with pain but still curious. Not electricity.
Jason adjusted his aim to take out the third one. Despite his extreme pain—his leg was becoming numb now, like a huge mass of sandbags—he took the last ettin out pretty easily with two careful shots, making small explosions in the flesh of its chest and setting its body hair on fire.
"Morgana," he muttered to himself, trying to climb back to his feet.
Jason hurt all over.
He hadn't realized when he sank to the ground.
Jason somehow climbed to his feet with his wounded leg totally numb and throbbing, but then he fell back again, landing against one of those huge masses of roots growing against the trunk of a tree.
His head reeled. He looked up into the sky.
The storm was clearing where he was, drifting away toward the troll's cave.
Jason's plunged into a mental fog. His brain seemed to tumble on waves of numbness, and his surroundings began to feel like a dream.
Then—not sure whether it was real or just grown from his swooning imagination—Jason saw something that cast him into a pit of naked horror and awe:
In the distance, at the troll's cave where his friends were all collapsed in the mud, a new monster approached. It wasn't quite a monster; it was as regal as it was terrible. A giant man—towering and staggering in scope—strode up to the fallen Reality Rifters as quickly as if he could walk on the wind. He moved like a ghost that parted the world before its dazzling body—a colossal and colorful male form that streaked with electricity and fire as if his anatomy was forged from lightning and the heavens and the heart of the world itself. The giant was over twenty feet tall—maybe twenty-five feet—and moved with an easy grace, dressed in nothing but an elaborate skirt or kilt; something Greek-looking, trimmed with silver and gold. Fire and ice and lightning swam over his statuesque body in a constant dance of colors and life and motes of flame. The colossus was sleekly muscular and mostly naked—other than that strange, Greek-like skirt and sandals—with smooth, bluish-turquoise skin like the depths of the Caribbean Sea. His skin glowed everywhere like a blue nightlight. The giant's face, high in the black storm, was shrouded in darkness, and the top of his smooth, blue cranium flickered with hair like rainbow fire, much like Zayden Skinner's. His eyes glowed fiercely like small stars as yellow as Earth's sun. Jason was partly reminded of Dr. Manhattan from that Watchmen movie; back when the superhero was in his gigantic size, though this majestic creature was more complicated-looking, with all of that elemental fire streaking around his skin...
Jason watched in stark terror as the giant walked untarnished across the bog; his gargantuan sandaled feet perfectly clean and landing above the muck of the world. He thought for a moment that he saw the giant leaving footprints of dry ground behind him, shaped perfectly like the soles of his sandals.
The luminescent, turquoise giant approached his friends.
With unstoppable purpose, the colossus bent down and picked up Riley, then Gliath, then Morgana like a child picking up toys. Jason saw Riley's lever gun and flying disc fall from his grip into the mud.
Then, as Jason screamed in his mind with every fiber of his being, the beautiful and awful creature turned and walked away. The giant took off swiftly with great strides, carrying his friends like dolls in his majestic, turquoise-skinned and sleekly-muscled arms.
As the giant left, so did the black storm.
With the maelstrom fading, Jason sank back against the root structure. Everything hurt. His mind was lost in a fog. Jason reeled with a dreamy numbness that was swallowing him up like quicksand.
Not real, he thought. That wasn't real.
He realized that he was sitting again, leaning against the roots.
Jason closed his eyes—he had to—and hoped to God and everything that one of those scary fucking bugs wouldn't eat him as he slept...
Chapter 11
In the shadows of tumbling sleep, the odors of ozone and burning metal crept into Gliath's senses.
Images came and went on the wind like specters.
Now, Gliath dreamed of battle. In the days of his previous life, he fought the wolf people of Lupinara with his Blessed Warblade. The spiritual weapon of his people had been bonded to him during childhood and would forever be the edge of his will; either in the pursuit of precision, or in anger. Whenever Gliath changed, the blade changed with him. It was forged from the hallowed metal of a fallen star and tempered in his blood. The Blessed Warblade would always be with him, whether he stalked the night in his primal form, fought in his warrior form, or obscured his true nature in his pretender form. Both its sheath—crafted from the shapeshifting skin of an old one—and the weapon would remain bound to the Krulax. Gliath and his blade were one.
The leopardwere knew that he was asleep, but he didn't know why. There were no memories of before. He could feel his Ranaja nearby. He could smell the human woman Morgana Soloster as well, but the tremendous force that bore them through his dreamscape could not be understood.
Worlds are changing, Gliath thought; an image drifting through the ether.
But, he did not understand that either.
Despite the confusion, the Krulax could easily recall the night that he and his Deathhand brothers had raided the Lupinars' advance war camp. He could feel his Blessed Warblade desirous of silent murder in his raging hand. He could remember slitting the throats of the beasts at the edge of the command tent. He remembered tearing a snarling head of thick grey fur, furious eyes, and gleaming white fangs off of one of the sentries as Gliath and his brothers approached like ghosts to assassinate the Lupinar war band council.
Such was the way of life on Luva. Life was war. War, and the hunt.
Yet, even though Gliath could still taste the blood of the Lupinar and smell the savage brute's wet fur and canine musk deep in his nose, he knew that it was only a dream. The memory came from the past; from his first life.
He lived in his second life now, with Ranaja. Life was brotherhood and the hunt had changed forms, but it still dominated their days.
Except in dreams, it was impossible for Gliath to return to his first life. He had lost that life.
Still, the memories of war pleased him...
There was a sudden rush then a shock as Gliath hit the floor on his shoulder and side.
Opening his heavy eyelids, the leopardwere took in the light and madness that swirled around him. He could feel that the floor under him was cold and likely made of stone. Huge, heavy steps shook the gr
ound as something colossal strode away from him. The smooth, carved stone under his body vibrated with each weighty thoom.
Fire poured into Gliath's waiting veins. He found the strength of his mighty muscles returning. The leopardwere looked up and around him, confused...
He was in a massive courtyard the likes of which Gliath had never seen. It was part of a castle. Gargantuan, exterior walls of carved marble rose all around the area, completely encircling him. It was as if the courtyard was within the bounds of a structure incomprehensibly massive in scope. Gliath could see the sky above him past the top edges of those towering wall. The black storm was gone and the sky was bright and cloudy. Large, winged creatures soared and circled up there. They had too many limbs to be mere birds or eagles. All around the center of the courtyard in the air were dozens upon dozens of large, crystal-clear glass cubes, hung in the air as if by magic.
Up ahead, the giant was walking away. The creature that had dropped Gliath was immense and radiated an aura of strength greater than that even of a mighty and terrible Nilmastridr back on Gliath's home world. He—the giant was male—was like a huge human with glowing, turquoise skin and sleek muscles; a paragon of his form. Elemental fire bathed him, swirling around his limbs and back like living wraiths of many vivid colors, perhaps the powers of fire and ice and lightning waiting at the giant's beck and call. The colossal man was bald with a head and face seemingly carved from marble, but had strange hair of orange, blue, green, and yellow fire dancing all about his smooth skull—much like the rainbow fire-like hair of Zayden Skinner. He was dressed in nothing more than an elaborate skirt and sandals. The ground crashed under his mighty steps.
Gliath detected no human scent coming from the colossal magnate, other than that of Ranaja and Morgana Soloster. Instead, the giant emanated the odors of ozone and burning; of crystal-clear oceans and aromatic clay.
The giant was over twenty-five feet tall, and it held Morgana Soloster in the crook of one elbow—sleeping and relaxed like an inanimate doll—as it lifted Ranaja into the air with the other hand. He held Ranaja as Gliath would hold a caught rabbit. The leopardwere's good friend was limp and unconscious.
With his senses on full alert again, Gliath suddenly realized how exposed he was. The center of the courtyard was vast and open. Around it were neat rows of tall and strange plants and trees of all manner of colors and foliage, leading all the way back to the surrounding walls.
Before watching any further, the leopardwere bound into action, sprinting for the cover of the nearest tree.
The giant has forgotten me, he thought, leaping into hiding as quickly as he could.
Then, from within the concealment of an alien tree, Gliath watched as the mammoth blue man added Ranaja to a collection of floating cubes that shimmered like glass. The giant—raising Ranaja into an open area of space in the air above the trees—made a new crystal cube grow into being around his mighty, blue fist holding Ranaja by the waist and chest. Then, when Gliath's good friend was fully enclosed in the magical cube, the giant withdrew his hand, leaving the cyborg to collapse, asleep, onto the floor of the newly-manifested cube's interior.
Gliath watched.
The air above the trees glittered with many similar cubes.
The one containing Ranaja hung perhaps thirty feet high in the air, suspended by nothing that Gliath could understand. The many cubes just like it hung above the courtyard at varying heights between twenty and thirty feet. In just an instant before Gliath's eyes went back to Ranaja, he saw that all of the cubes were occupied. The other prisoners—creatures that Gliath could not yet make out—were all similarly collapsed on the clear, glass-like floors of their own floating cubes.
Save him! Gliath thought. Must save Ranaja!
His eyes flickered to the tall walls surrounding the courtyard. He scanned the many shining cubes, immediately wondering whether or not he could climb high enough to leap to one cube nearest a wall, then bound from cube to cube until reaching his friend.
The giant moved on to another clear space, holding Morgana up in his other hand. As he did, he spoke in a strange, deep and dark voice that rumbled across the courtyard like gentle thunder. Gliath felt fear try to invade his heart when the giant suddenly turned to face him, staring into the leopardwere's eyes through the trees. As the giant looked at him, Gliath felt his huge, glowing yellow eyes bore into his mind.
Gliath didn't understand the giant's fathomless language, but he understood the words that forced their way into his mind:
"I have not forgotten about you, kitty. I will collect you shortly..."
There was a flare of bright, crimson light over the giant's chest. It was like a burst of malice exploding from its heart. The giant looked up to the heavens for a moment, grimacing with his eyes burning, then he let out a booming roar. He shook Morgana Soloster twice in his furious fist—she flopped around like a rag doll—then there was another flare of red as the skies darkened...
The leopardwere looked back at Ranaja as the winds picked up and howled, drawing the darkness down into the courtyard like a tornado. The sight of Ranaja trapped and fallen tore gouges at Gliath's mighty heart.
As the giant reached up and manifested another floating cube around the body of Morgana Soloster, and a maelstrom built up in the courtyard blowing leaves and flowers and foliage all over, Gliath turned and fled.
He dashed through the rows of colorful trees toward the nearest wall. When he found it—just before the air turned black—Gliath scanned the wall for any openings; any windows. It was nearly sheer, stretching high above him. There might have been large windows far above. The carved, marble bricks were half the Krulax's size.
Gliath ran on, sprinting along on fleeting, powerful feet in his warrior form, following the perimeter of the area.
When he risked a moment to look back into the courtyard through a copse of strange trees—they smelled so strongly and odd—he saw the giant striding after him. His glaring eyes were like spheres of yellow flames, squinted in rage. His crimson heart gleamed with anger. The many colors of elemental fire zipped around on the imposing creature's body as he pumped his colossal legs.
A blast of adrenaline fueled Gliath to go even faster. He made it almost halfway around the walls of the courtyard before he felt the giant's eyes boring into him again.
The giant yelled something in a tongue that Gliath didn't understand. His voice was deep and grim. Then, the words appeared in his mind again like heavy lead slugs piercing his brain:
"Do not resist, my pet," he said with a telepathic voice that definitely reminded Gliath of the Shadowstriders of the Penumbra back home. "My harpies will capture you if you flee. You will join the others..."
Then, Gliath felt a blanket of numbness sweep over his skull. He felt his powerful shoulders and core muscles relax. His iron-like legs softened and he wanted nothing more than to lay down and take a nap.
No! he thought fiercely, latching onto that image of Ranaja stuck up in the cube. No sleep!
Gliath ran on, forcing his muscles to obey his will. He followed the wall. There had to be a way out around the edge of this place somewhere! Was there no entrance or exit from this courtyard? Did it not connect with the rest of the castle?
When a creature suddenly plummeted into a thick tree before him—snapping many branches as it dug into the wood with its claws—Gliath instantly changed course, plunging around the tree bed and running on.
A creature shrieked behind him like the blending of a human woman's scream of rage and the piercing cry of an eagle.
The air was dark and swirling with the violent gusts of a black storm. Gliath didn't bother to look back. He kept running. He didn't take the time to look back at the giant either, though he imagined the monstrous man striding along behind him through the rows, covering a vast distance with each step.
There! Gliath thought, peeling off to the left when he saw a forty-foot-high tunnel emerge. The ceiling was a carved archway of white and gold stone, and it led into
the castle. His frantic but focused mind suddenly flew to his weapons. The leopardwere felt the presence of his Blessed Warblade, and a quick touch told him that his Earth pistol was still on one thigh in its holster, but the large 'Versa Max' Earth shotgun that should have been bouncing and clacking on his back was gone. He realized that he hadn't seen Ranaja's rifle either, back when that giant had placed him into his glass cube.
A dozen feet into the huge corridor, Gliath looked back over his shoulder and saw the forms of three harpies speeding after him. One was flying through the tunnel. The other two were clinging to the walls.
The swirling clouds of darkness behind him were clearing.
As the courtyard brightened, Gliath saw the tall, imposing form of the giant standing out in the open, watching him run away.
The harpies were still hot on his tail.
He could kill the three creatures—he was sure of it. Gliath would rip them to pieces.
The leopardwere turned off of the tunnel at the first opening on the left that he found, bounding up stairs designed for much larger creatures than himself. Turning into a long corridor, Gliath continued, slowing, feeling his mighty heart race with excitement. He knew that battle would be upon him any second...
Then, Gliath was surprised when the ceiling of the hall suddenly opened to the sky.
A large section of the wall on his left suddenly floated away and spun off on an unseen axis, rotating out of sight. Gliath stood straight and flexed his limbs, ready as the floor of the hall he was standing in suddenly shifted into several massive, floating cubes of marble. Huge voids opened all around him, and Gliath could see into abysses that had previously been other levels of the castle, below and above him. He saw slivers of light appear here and there as he watched the sky above and the swamp far below peek through the shifting spaces for long moments.
The castle was changing around him...
Chapter 12
