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Alysia in Wonderland

Page 5

by Greg Dragon


  “What is it that you all want from these people?” Alysia asked, and the demons exchanged impatient glances before the leader kicked her in the chest.

  To Alysia it seemed as if she blinked and blacked out to find herself staring up at the sky. Wincing, she made to kip-up but decided against it due to the pain in her chest. The demon’s large hoof, cloven and hairy, lifted up to stomp her, but it came down harmlessly next to her as he pulled two swords and dropped back in a stance.

  A knife flew over her and was knocked away by one of the leader’s blades. Then he stomped, shaking the earth while bellowing a battle cry, loud and frightening. A group of villagers had decided to fight back, and they came at the raiders with swords and spears, giving little concern to the leader’s advantage.

  Alysia bit down and rolled to her hands and knees, then was back to her feet with Euphoria ready. She immediately recognized Bamba and his posse, who had given her a hard time on the first day. Bamba was on the defensive as the big leader swung his swords. One blade touched another demon—the big one that had been the most hostile to her—and he crumpled into bones and ashes as if the blade had drained all the fluids from his body.

  The sight of this frightened most of the defenders, and they backed away from the leader who was still swinging wildly. More villagers poured out into the main road to fight, and it became an all-out melee between invaders and invaded.

  Lenorela's ring wrapped Alysia in armor, and upon seeing this the demon leader screamed. “It's her, she has it! One of the rings of Alujuan! Capture her. Bring her to me. She is in league with the witch!”

  After the command, the leader doubled his efforts to kill Bamba, and Alysia was surprised that he hadn't turned on her. The ring had set him off, and he mentioned a witch. She wondered if they had come for Lenorela, and whether or not her friend’s seclusion was one of hiding instead of privacy.

  Several demons ran at her now, their swords and shields dripping with blood. Alysia turned and ran between two houses, then spun to face the first fool who dared to follow.

  The proximity of the houses disallowed more than one demon to come at her, and she killed him quickly by stepping into his downward slash and ramming her sword under his chin and out through the back of his head. When she withdrew it she kicked him into the second, then cut him quickly in the top of his head before they both hit the ground, dead.

  More clambered through and some from the other side, so Alysia jumped, planted a foot in the wall of one house, and sprung up to catch the edge of the neighboring roof.

  She pulled herself up and ran along the rooftop, then sprang and jumped to an adjoining house. After running and jumping across several more, she was near the entrance of the village where the giant demon sat, quietly munching on the innards of the poor soul that was once the town's cobbler.

  The demons who followed her were still a few houses away, so she jumped, somersaulted, and landed on the giant’s shoulders with Euphoria buried in the crook of his neck. The creature bellowed and Alysia hoped that she hit his heart, but she knew this wasn't the case when he reached up, grabbed her by the arm, and slammed her into the ground.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  She moved like water. No, more like a flood that had been released onto the village from her mansion, a dark blur of fabric that was too quick for anyone to make out what it was. Her hair, normally pinned up into an elaborate nest of pins and jewels, was free and flowing. Hair the length of her body, hair that seemed to defy physics, as if it had a life of its own.

  For anyone that could make out the form of Lenorela Isora, they would have said that her skin appeared as oily, black sludge. She slid through them all at tremendous speed, her hair like thin silver swords, shredding every invader that she came across.

  By the time she made it to the leader, the perfectly cobbled road was black from the demon’s blood. She didn’t wait to make an introduction, or to threaten him; she merely jumped, twisted, and dove into the ground as if the rocks and gravel were a deep pool of water. A second later she came up from beneath him, her fist raised above her head, and her arm reinforced by the bladed tentacles of her hair.

  The large demon stopped his swinging and his face became a mask of worry. All of the villagers stopped to watch him as he stood frozen with his swords out. His eyes scanned them all and his body shivered, but he dared not move a single muscle.

  Lenorela twisted mid-air and landed to his side. She was armored in skintight black armor, and her hands were outstretched to her sides, her fingers in the form of claws. She ignored him and approached the giant that hovered over Alysia. The remaining demons took off running through the entrance, but the giant regarded her and scoffed as if she was a mere nuisance.

  He lifted his fist to finish off Alysia, but as he thrust it down, nothing happened since Lenorela had removed his arm from the shoulder. The rapid slashes continued as she removed his other arm, then a leg, and finally his head. The crowd roared with applause until she spun to look at them.

  The leader, who was still frozen, turned to look, and instantly regretted it when he realized that he had been split in two. His body fell in two separate directions, and his large blades clattered loudly on the road. A few screams went up from the unsuspecting villagers, but this was only for a few seconds before they resumed applauding Lenorela’s victory.

  “How did you allow them to get in like this, Bamba?” she shouted at the boy, and he looked away with shame. “Rally your men, and fix what they have destroyed! Burn the dead, and secure their phylacteries. It must be done before I return,” Lenorela said.

  Before he could answer, she was gone to exact her wrath on the fleeing demons. Bamba barked orders at the surviving members of his group, and they began to collect bodies and body parts to take to the rear of the village.

  Lenorela drifted out of the village, weakened and barely conscious. The magic was taking its toll and she hadn’t stopped to replenish. She wondered about Alysia, what she would think when she learned that blood was the source of their miracles. It was a conversation she wasn’t looking forward to having, but she hoped that with time the human girl would become accepting of everything.

  It was high noon now, the time of the central sun, and the tall grass became an emerald ocean that was only broken up by their running legs. Ten escaped, but she only needed one. She had marked him right before she removed the arm of the giant Mee’ir. Her mark was slower than the rest. He was wounded by the dagger of a villager, trying to fight his pain as he ran across the plain.

  Though her head was swimming, Lenorela slipped forward and bore him down beneath her weight. She rode him down like a surfer mounting a wave. Pulling free the knife she carried at the small of her back, she jabbed it in and out of his neck quickly. Blood shot out like a miniature geyser, and he tried to bellow out but her left hand found his mouth to silence him. Next, her powerful legs slipped below him to pin her to his back tightly. Then her mouth was on the wound in his neck, drinking out his life force as he grew weaker and weaker.

  When Lenorela stood up, she knelt on the corpse and vomited violently as her body rejected the vile demon’s blood. The life was what she needed and her magic felt strong, stronger than it had felt for days, which made the vomiting worth it. She had considered capturing a few of these invaders and holding them captive inside her dungeon. Nothing sinister, she reasoned, just magical food. For replenishing whenever I am too drained to go out hunting.

  Her armor retracted, leaving her naked, her wonderful body exposed like a nymph that had risen from out of the grass. She reached down and rolled the dead demon, then stripped him out of his clothes. The pants would never fit but his tunic was long. She put it on and used his corded belt to secure it around her waist.

  Just like every other time when she had replenished her magic, she felt a little tipsy. She stood up, giggled a bit, and sauntered back in the direction of the village. I hope that you’re okay, my pretty girl, she thought, and smiled at
the warmth within her belly, a warmth that made her feel invincible.

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  About The Author

  GREG DRAGON has been a creative writer for several years, and has authored on topics of relationship, finance, physical fitness and more through different sources of media. In particular, his online magazine has been a source of much pragmatic information, which has been helpful to many. As a result, his work continues to grow with a large and loyal fan base.

  This Florida author brings exciting action and drama to his written work. His storylines keep readers engaged with characters that come to life from the beautiful celestial scenes of science fiction, to the gritty world of urban drama.

  See Greg’s author page at gregdragon.com or keep up with his latest books and appearances through email.

 

 

 


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