Sol Boxset

by Samuel Small

  “Fuck you!” he shouted and rushed onward. He spotted a slight smirk on the warden’s lips and he took that as his sign to get the fuck out of there. He abruptly bolted off at a right angle, leaving a very confused warden frowning at him. Still, it was too late for the guy to stop his attack and violent turbulence lashed out all around him.

  Despite the fact that Dante had predicted this, he wasn’t able to avoid it. It was an omnidirectional attack, and as Dante rushed forward it caught up and plowed into his back. It didn’t hurt, but it pushed hard, and his eyes widened as he realized he was heading straight for a wall.

  Not one to give up, Dante placed his feet outward with his knees bent. Just before he hit the wall, he kicked out. He was pressed between this air wall and the physical wall for a moment, but then broke through and came tumbling out of the other side of the thick wind, landed on his backside, then tried to prop himself up, but found it difficult with the handcuffs. He had to use just his lower body, which sucked, and firmly planted one foot, before following with the other. He almost fell flat on his ass when he got to a stand, and for some reason the warden hadn’t taken the opportunity to attack him again. Dante wondered why this was, and quickly turned to face him.

  He was panting. It looked like somebody had put all their eggs in one basket.

  Dante ran forward, and although the warden tried to keep his cool, he could see a twinge of nervous sweat running down the left side of his face. Dante smirked and doubled his speed, racing toward the man as fast as he could. He recalled all of the asshole’s smirks, the cheap shots, all the times he looked so cocky even though they both knew he wasn’t playing anywhere close to fair.

  Dante shouted and avoided the desperate attacks his opponent launched at him. As he came in he tried to punch him on instinct, but he couldn’t with his hands bound. During that hesitation a blow hit him dead in the shoulder, but he didn’t care. It didn’t even hurt, the worst it did was offset Dante’s momentum by knocking his shoulder out, but he could use that to his advantage. He turned all the way with it and spun around while launching his leg outward. His heel connected with something solid, and Dante smiled. When he came full circle, the warden was stumbling backward, clutching his temple. Dante wasn’t going to let him off that easy, and he lunged for him.

  As he looped his arms around the back of his opponent’s neck time seemed to stop. In that moment he stared into the eyes of a man who didn’t seem to really know where he was, or who he had pissed off. Dante almost pitied him, but then his pupils expanded with a trace of recognition, and that was all Dante needed to get going. He pulled down on the man’s head as hard as he could, bringing the guy’s face into his knee. He heard something crack as it made solid contact, and the warden’s head jerked up, forcing him to a standing position. But Dante wasn’t finished. He pulled his head in again and gave him a powerful wallop. The image of the warden smirking as Dante lay banged up on the floor flashed through his mind, and he let another knee fly upward.

  Blood sprayed everywhere as the man’s nose exploded. Dante had probably broken it in two places, if such a thing was even possible. The knee of his jeans were damp with blood, and the floor was becoming slippery to stand on. Dante bent over and pulled the guy out of the pool of his own gore, then slammed his knee into his stomach. With each hit Dante heard a loud thump, like he was hitting a damp mattress with a bat, and the guy wheezed out a cry he could no longer manage due to the intense pain in his belly.

  Dante continued tearing into the man as he sank lower with each blow. He was coughing up blood and muttering silent words that had to be pleas for the beating to stop. As he lay on the ground, blood pouring out of his ruined nose, Dante felt a twinge of empathy for him. Then he scoffed at his own weakness and patted at the man’s robe until he felt a small metal key. He grasped it, then delivered one last knee into the man’s midsection. He stood up, taking the key and unlocking his handcuffs. They snapped open, and Dante realized how much he missed the feeling of fresh air coming into contact with his skin. He smiled, then tossed the cuffs and the key over his shoulder as he walked away.

  When he reached the steel gate Dante inspected it closely, looking for a way to raise it, before he stopped abruptly. He just had a devilish idea. Smirking, he held his palms against the gate, then blasted his energy out, leaving nothing but twisted metal and screws. Fuck me I’ve missed blowing shit up, he thought.

  His next obstacle was a long staircase poorly lit by torches. The steps creaked and protested under Dante’s weight, and he came to realize that the oldest part of the building had to be the entrance. They must have kept digging deeper and deeper over time, so the place they locked him up in was kind of like a fresh new suit or something. He could see the ceiling coming into view, and flickering within the light cast by the flames was a small square etched into it. It looked like the entryway to his attic, and had to be his way out. When he was underneath it, he lifted his palm up, then shot out his energy, sending the square hatch flying into the air. He heard it smack into the ceiling then hit the floor, and Dante leapt out of the hole, his hands before his face like claws.

  “I’ve got you now fucker…” he trailed off as his eyes bulged and took in the figure before him. He was expecting some generic weak-ass guard, probably the weakest of them all since he was the receptionist. Instead, his eyes were faced with the worst opponent he could imagine: Lennon.

  “Fuck,” Dante mumbled.

  Chapter 10

  Jake waited with Sara and Elizabeth in the plaza where the festival was held just a few days earlier. It was midday, so he expected the place to be bustling with people, but it was the exact opposite. The whole place was silent, the only sound being the howling wind. His eyes shifted from one abandoned building to another, expecting to see a black creature emerge. That was ridiculous, of course – their opponent would be coming from the sky, but all that time killing Malice that plagued villages taught Jake to be very wary of deserted silent spaces.

  There was some kind of flapping noise, and Jake turned his head quickly, grasping his sword, only to be disappointed when he saw it was just a flag fluttering in the wind. He looked around frantically, noting that his comrades were doing the same. They’d been waiting for several hours, their calm outward demeanor the same as always, but there was some sort of thick tension steaming up from the very ground that told him some deadly confrontation was imminent.

  Then a roar bellowed out, seeming to come from every direction at once. Jake turned his head to the sky and spun around, trying to pinpoint its location, but it was impossible. Then there was a dreadful screech of wind – the sound the creature made when it powered its wings up and down. It was near, no doubt toward the edge of the island, and he could tell by the shifting sound that it was circling the entire landmass. It would come up and unleash its attack soon. Jake locked eyes with Sara and nodded. She was the only one with ranged attacks to take that thing down, unless Jake decided to test out his Sol rifle, but he was told to only use it in a serious pinch when a large amount of Sol was being emitted.

  The roar resounded again, and the screeching wind blew stronger. The dark figure on the horizon drew closer, soaring through the sky with its wings outstretched. It pulled its neck back just before it got over the plaza, and Jake knew this would be it.

  Just before it unleashed its deadly disease, a flurry of sharp icicles slashed into the creature’s snout and mouth, piercing it and causing it to roar with pain. The mass of liquid it had gathered spread out and fell, and Jake and company had to run to avoid being sprayed. It seeped into the ground like some kind of acid, but Jake was surprised to find that no Malice emerged from the black liquid as he expected. Perhaps interrupting it mid-attack had stopped their spread.

  Before Jake could think any further, a momentous torrent of wind bore down on him from above and forced his head into his chest. He pushed against it, and shielded his eyes with his forearm. The creature was beating its wings in the air, creating pressure th
at restricted Jake’s movements. It pulled its neck back once again, then launched it forward, a steady stream of black liquid pouring forth.

  “Take cover!” Jake shouted, then ran into a nearby building. There was a solid splat, followed by some runoff, then a disgusting sliding and popping noise – the sound of the Malice being birthed from the strange liquid. Jake flung the door open, gritting his teeth. Rising out of the ground all along the street were Malice. Jake drew his blade, then charged at them.

  Was that gust of wind meant to keep Sara’s icicles away? Jake thought as his eyes focused on the large dragon Malice, steadily beating its wings so that it remained hovering in the air, as if monitoring their battle.

  “I’ll focus on the large ones!” he yelled, as he took off the arm of a brute. He glanced at Sara and Elizabeth to see if it registered, and they both nodded, although Elizabeth seemed to have some apprehension at the idea. He directed his attention back to the large Malice he was fighting and jammed his sword into its belly, and it screeched in agony. “I’m more used to fighting them,” he called over his shoulder, then ripped his sword out of the creature. He held it at his side, and turned fully to Elizabeth. “Got it?” he said.

  Her eyes were wide, and she seemed in awe of Jake for some reason. It was as if time was frozen for the two of them, if only for a few seconds, before Sara, still fighting at Elizabeth’s side, broke the strange trance.

  “A little help over here!” she yelled, her arms outstretched and sending a rapid-fire storm of ice barreling into several Malice in front of her. They continued walking toward her, despite the onslaught, only stumbling a little bit on the way. Elizabeth turned away from Jake, giving one last glance over her shoulder before slicing into the creatures.

  Jake felt tingling along his back, and took that as a sign that he should take some kind of evasive maneuver quick. He tucked and rolled forward, hearing a large crash from behind, and as he did a few chunks of dirt sprayed over his back. As he rose he turned around to see another large Malice ripping its arm out of the ground. Jake yelled and stabbed into it.

  The rest of the battle had Jake swinging his sword wildly from one foul creature to another. He’d stab into one, then have to pull back quickly as another tried to smash into him from behind. Sometimes Sara or Elizabeth would call for his assistance, and he’d rush to them and cut another down. By the time the last one was felled, his blade was dripping with blackness, and he could feel a little bit of it running down his cheek as he panted. He looked up at the large dragon that still hovered over him, like some kind of monstrous referee. It beat its wings quickly once again, sending that same torrent of air bearing down on them. Jake turned to Sara and Elizabeth, who looked at him anxiously. Once again the three of them ran for cover, and once again that steady stream of liquid stained the ground. The monsters rose from it, and once again Jake exited the house, slashing and stabbing his way through the horde.

  They couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

  As if on cue, there was a giant explosion coming from the direction of the prison. Jake felled the Malice in front of him, then turned his head. There was a steady line of Dante’s blue energy, being carried off and twisted by a torrent of wind like a snake swimming up a waterfall.

  Jake turned back toward the Malice bearing down on him, aware of the loud crashes and booms going on just behind. This wasn’t the only battle being fought today, and backup would be arriving once Dante and Lennon took care of whatever was going on there. Jake lunged toward the horde of beasts, his will renewed.

  ***

  Lennon didn’t say anything when Dante turned his wide eyes on him. He damn near shat himself when the guy was waiting at the top, but once his shock subsided he took a better look at the room. There was a guard, presumably the receptionist Dante was planning to beat up, face first on the ground. Dante drew back at the sight, then looked at Lennon, but the guy raised his hand and Dante tensed up again. Fighting a guy like that in this small room was no good. He wasn’t sure he’d have anywhere to dodge.

  But Lennon didn’t point his hand at Dante. Rather, he extended toward the open doorway and waited. A few seconds passed with him just staring at it, and Dante kept looking from him back to the door. Did the guy go fucking insane or something? Just before Dante asked him, he saw the guy’s eyes narrow further, then he shot his energy out and blew the damn thing into an even bigger hole in the wall. Dante tried to cover himself as debris flew out toward him, and the air filled with thin white dust.

  “What the – ack – fuck are you doing?”

  Lennon turned to him, looking genuinely confused. “What do you mean? I’m breaking you out.”

  The sum of the circumstances swirled around in Dante’s head and pissed him off.

  “What!? You couldn’t of showed up, like, five fucking minutes ago!?” But that wasn’t even the worst of it. Dante pointed at the guy, who didn’t seem to give a shit, which only pissed Dante off more. “And you coulda said that earlier too, instead of standing around looking all intimidating! This—” Lennon’s head jerked back to the destroyed entrance, and his soft features hardened. There, the ninja bitches – along with the robed assholes – stood at the ready.

  “I was a little busy,” Lennon mumbled.

  “Oh, I get it,” Dante said, and walked to Lennon’s side. He guessed he could forgive him for not showing up earlier if he was being tailed by the entire fucking military. They both brought their palms down and gathered energy, stepping out into the fresh air. Their opponents didn’t try to stop them, only tensing up and readying for their attacks. Dante allowed his eyes to pass over each of them. He recognized quite a few. The tough captain was there, the guy the nerd fought, and even the ninja bitch leader who Dante thought he put out of commission for a few days. Lennon’s hysterical wind energy rushed through the area, batting Dante’s hair and sending his jacket slamming against his hips. But he didn’t mind, he could practically feel the massive explosion they were about to make and he could see it in the drained faces of their adversaries.

  Feeling a sense of calm before the storm, with the energy swirling in his own hand and gathering more and more power, Dante peeked out to the side. The casual glance turned to shock as he saw that black dragon, flapping the wings that also seemed to be its arms. It wasn’t attacking, nor did it see Dante. It almost seemed like it was studying something, completely entertained. It was eerie, and Dante didn’t like it one bit. He should take these guys out as quickly as possible then deal with that thing. He looked toward Lennon, whose eyes shifted away from the creature to meet Dante. They both nodded in sync, then raised their hands into the air.

  Their opponents were lifted clean off their feet and into the swirling vortex of wind above Dante and Lennon. Despite the fierce gale directly overhead, Dante felt none of it, his hair and jacket completely unruffled. As far as he could tell, Lennon made some kind of air bubble that kept them out of the blast zone of the assault. Dante continued to stare up at his enemies being tossed around like ragdolls. It was the first combination attack Dante had ever done with Sol, and it was insane to witness. He wondered how many would be lost in that terrible storm, probably all but the best. Dante clenched his fists, the image of Floff and the ninja bitch flashing into his head. He’d have to fight them both.

  Their awesome attack died down, and the unconscious bodies fell to either side of Dante and Lennon like broken tree branches after a storm. Dante ignored them and watched as two people slowly drifted to the ground, their clothes tattered and blood running down their faces. Floff and the ninja bitch. As soon as their feet hit the ground, Dante tore forward, brandishing his fist. Floff leapt forward at the same time, matching Dante’s movements. Out of the corner of his eye, Dante could see the woman staring daggers into Lennon, and he was happy that they didn’t have to draw straws to decide the matchups.

  The energy contained in Dante and Floff’s fists clashed, and the pressure it released sent Dante’s clothes into a flap. He braved it,
and immediately came forward with another attack, Floff matching him. They clashed once again and the force blew back Floff’s hood, revealing his teeth clenched tightly. Dante had a good idea of why.

  “In our last fight I wasn’t amplifying my attacks with Sol, so you were able to blow them back pretty easily. Now that I know you’re actually tough, I won’t be holding much back!” Dante shouted while concentrating, gathering as much energy as he could into his fist. Floff met it, but not with enough force, and Dante plowed through his attack, slamming right into his head. Dante was sure to release the energy just before he made contact so that he didn’t snap the guy’s neck outright, but it was still enough to knock him off his feet.

  Floff slammed into the ground and struggled to raise himself back up but Dante slowly walked over him and extended his arm. Floff, eyes closed as he struggled against his body’s natural reactions to taking such a hit, didn’t notice Dante until he opened them. Dante shook his head. Floff was a good fighter and a decent guy, so he didn’t want to hurt him, but he would if he did anything stupid. He seemed to the get the memo, and scoffed while looking away, then lied down on his back. Dante put his hands in his pockets, turning to look behind him where Lennon fought his battle against that ninja. He wasn’t afraid of Floff doing a sneak attack from behind, the guy was way too honorable to do something like that.

  Lennon’s fight was weird. The girl lashed out, throwing her hands and arms in an erratic display while pressing forward. It was something Dante knew all too well: the technique of a fighter using all heart and no head. The way she was now, even bedhead could probably take her out, which didn’t explain why Lennon was taking so long. Dante focused on him, where he glided around her attacks as if flowing on fixed currents of wind. His face was somber, almost sad, and Dante didn’t understand that at all. Wasn’t that girl one of the people who treated him like shit? Probably for his whole life?