I let out a heavy sigh. “We should get going. We’re burning precious daylight.” 306 agrees instantly. We’ve only walked a few paces before a distant crack sounds behind us. Both of us are on high alert, whipping around to be met with only a vastly empty space.
But that doesn’t mean anything. My eyes scan the area, noting every rock, every blade of tall grass to find the abnormality. But the area remains quiet, the only movement from the tips of the grass swaying in the wind. We almost turn around, but the creature jumps high in the air, nearly catching us off guard. 306 and I jump out of the way in opposite directions, tucking and rolling in order to pop back up on our feet. In unison, we turn around, not giving the beast our back.
Demicrogen. The beasts that should be confined to Mortis Regnum. Instantly, I want to point the finger at 306. What are the odds that 306 was doing something he clearly shouldn’t have been—judging from his look when he returned—and now we’re being attacked? I don’t believe in coincidences. Not only is it strange to see one out in the open, but also seeing one inbroad daylight is so beyond the normal. Demicrogens thrive in darkness, in the shadows, lurking to attack their prey. Needless to say, nothing about this attack seems typical.
The creature screeches in my direction, hunkering down on all fours. Its jaw snaps, saliva flinging out between its razor-sharp teeth. My shadows don’t hesitate, stretching out from my back, ready to defend.
306 doesn’t appear to be the least bit frightened. Maybe that’s because he knew it was coming, or he’s helped create creatures far more terrifying than this one.
“How did it escape?” I call out, not moving a muscle.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” I doubt that. The creature doesn’t even appear to notice 306, its yellow beady eyes never wavering from me.
It lunges at me with intent. My shadows lash out, swatting it with force. The beast flings to the side but quickly regains its footing. 306 moves closer to me, but still the Demicrogen doesn’t pay him any mind.
Not waiting for another attack, I push my power toward it, wrapping the inky tentacle around its throat and tightening, hoping to sever it clean off. It slices through my hold with its talons, and with a shake of its head, it is right back to being laser focused on my movements.
What is this thing on?
Balling my fists at my sides, I bring my hands together, forming a ball of onyx in my palms before it forms into a sword. In my peripheral, I catch 306 eyeing me curiously before his gaze drops to the sword swimming in shadows.
“How did you—” he starts, but I interrupt.
“Can you keep your head on and help me kill this thing?” I shout. “Its attention isn’t wavering from me. I’ll distract it. You go behind it and end this.” My instructions are clear, but he doesn’t seem to be moving.
I grunt in frustration and charge the beast, slashing the sword in front of me, hoping to cut its head off, but it ducks beneath my attack. Whirling around, the blade spins in the same direction, and I send it flying. It barely nicks its arm, and I swear it almost laughs at my futile attempts.
“If you’re not going to help, be on the lookout for more.” That’s another thing about the odd encounter. There’s only been one, but normally Demicrogens travel in groups. So where are the rest of them hiding? 306 doesn’t answer, so against my better judgment, I look over my shoulder, only to find him running in the opposite direction. Immediately, I think another popped up, and he’s running for his life. Cowardly for sure, but it would make sense, given the circumstances. But when I find the surrounding area clear, it begs the question: Why is he running?
It was a mistake—looking over my shoulder. It nearly cost me my life.
The Demicrogen seizes its opportunity, pouncing on me and pinning my arms at the side of my head. I push up, trying to get the upper hand, but it counteracts my strength. The snapping jaws come so close to my face—too close—its tongue snaking out to sneak a taste.
My sword vanishes on command, but I conjure another stream to wrap around its throat and throw it off me. It doesn’t stay down for long, hopping right back up like all I did was give it a light shove. Blade returning, I take my stance, letting the smile of destruction play on my lips. The creature lets out an inhuman snarl, screeching so loud I’m surprised my ears don’t bleed. My headache returns with a vengeance, prying at the walls of my skull, threatening to break my focus.
I grind my teeth, hoping to keep the pain at bay, but it’s relentless. The Demicrogen runs full force at me, so fast it’s nearly impossible for my eyes to track. It attempts to go sideways, but I mirror its direction, not willing to give him anedge.
That same familiar pulse beats inside me, the same one I felt moments before killing the one in Nefarium. Panic seizes me, not wanting 306 to see the light I can’t even explain myself. But it’s too late. There’s nothing more I can do, because one second, it’s fifty yards away, then the next…I’m plunging my sword deep into its chest cavity. It wails, flinging its limbs, stretching its bony, finger-like talons toward my face, trying to get one last swipe in before its untimely end.
There it is. That tingling sensation moving through my body. I beg for this blasted creature to die from the blade, to not force me to expose something I know nothing about. But the gods aren’t on my side.
The tiny ball of light travels up through the hilt, getting lost beneath the belly of the beast before exploding with blinding rays. Body parts fly, brain matter smacks me across the face, and I fight the urge to puke. Finally, the torso lands with a wet flop, immediately soaking the surrounding grass in blood.
Chest heaving, the sword disintegrates, the rest of my shadows recede, and I’m left feeling absolutely exhausted. What the fuck was that? I’ve never heard or seen anything like it. The first time, I thought it was a fluke, but a second time?
Wiping tissue, skin, and whatever else off my clothes, it flings onto the ground with a sickening smack.
“What was that?” 306’s voice sounds behind me.
I take my time facing him, the anger I harbored this morning threatening to breach the surface. “Your guess is as good as mine,” I respond smugly. “Care to explain why the fuck you ran off?”
“I thought there were more over that way.” He hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Thought I’d check it out. You seemed to have everything under control.” What a piss-poor excuse.
“Yeah, right. Let’s go with that.” Irritation bubbles to thesurface, and I can’t find it in me to care.
His eyes squint briefly, head tilting to the side as if analyzing me. “You feeling okay?” I know that look, that tone. It’s the one he gets right before the needle pierces my arm. My eyes dart to the bag he’s been keeping close this entire trip, never letting it out of his sight or out of reach.
Until now.
