The slavers’ camp is starting to rise as we arrive. There are a dozen caravans. One of the mercenaries keeping watch sees us and gives the alert. So much for sneaking up on them. My instincts tell me to run, but Griffin pushes me behind a cart and jumps at the mercenary’s back. With two slices of his swords, the man is down. Chaos ensues as the camp wakes fully. Shots are fired, but Griffin isn’t slowed one bit. He was telling the truth when he said he had thick skin.
I stay hidden and shoot at the mercenaries that run in front of my cart. Nobody notices me; they’re too busy dealing with the Devil of the Wastes. Griffin’s hood has fallen down, and his black horns shine under the rising sun. They look longer than before. He pins one man to the ground and beheads him in one swift motion. I stare wide-eyed as the head rolls under the cart. I raise my gun and shoot the two mercenaries that try to rush him. They fall dead. Like I said, I’m a good shot.
While Griffin keeps them busy, I sneak toward the caravans that contain the prisoners. They could help with the weapons of the fallen enemies. There are dead bodies strung on the bars surrounding the caravans. Their lifeless eyes watch me approach. With two bullets, I break the lock and free the slaves. They cower at the far end of their cage. I guess the devil fighting behind me is not reassuring.
“Get the fuck out of here and help!” I shout.
I don’t have time for fear and hesitation. Griffin needs our help.
A mercenary runs at me, and I shoot him in the head. That spurs the prisoners into action. They stumble out of the caravan and into the dust. Some of them are emaciated and smell like death. They must have been taken a while ago. Food is scarce, especially to feed slaves.
A mighty roar echoes behind me and I turn abruptly to look. Was that Griffin? Somehow, he has disregarded his swords and is now fighting with his hands. His black nails—or, should I say, claws—are longer, too. His horns now curve back over his head, reaching farther than before. He’s transforming into something more than his usual self.
“What the fuck is that?” asks one of the prisoners, a man in his twenties.
“That is your fucking savior,” I say, pushing a gun I found on a dead body into his hands. “Now, fight for your life!”
The prisoner watches me with fearful eyes, but then obeys.
Griffin kills a man just beside a caravan by twisting his neck. He drops his victim at his feet. He stops abruptly when he notices the corpses strung to the cage. There are a few of them all over the vehicles. Some are in bad conditions; they have been dead for days, and the desert heat got to them. All prisoners who tried to escape and failed. They were kept as examples and warnings. Those slavers are worse than the ones who caught me.
The slaves I freed are fighting back, which gives Griffin some seconds to stare at the dead man tied to the cage. Not a man, a teenager. He reaches for his face but stops before touching his cheek. Griffin knew him. He must be one of the children from the farm in the mountains. He will never reach adulthood.
When Griffin turns back, his red eyes are on fire. His horns curve back, and his fangs are long and sharp. The red scales cover his face entirely. He’s changing into a monster of legend in front of my very eyes.
“Oh no, he’s losing it,” says Beet.
I look down. My wristband is blinking. Does she have a sensor on the bracelet too?
“What?” I ask.
“Griffin is losing it. You need to warn the prisoners, Helios. They need to escape!”
The urgency in her artificial voice urges me into action. I get a hold of the first slave I see.
“Get out of here, all of you!” I shout.
They didn’t need to be asked twice. Most of them ran away, terrified, as soon as Griffin jumped back into the fray. He’s still fighting the remaining mercenaries. Bullets don’t slow him down one bit. The dust is turning red all over the camp.
I run to the other caravans and break the locks. The prisoners cower behind each other. I have to threaten to shoot them to get them on the move. Soon, the only ones left are the corpses strung to the cages. We’re too late to help them.
Another mighty roar echoes behind me and I feel it in my bones. I want to run away with the prisoners. But I can’t; my place is here, helping Griffin. He told me not to fear him, so I won’t. I’ve lived with him for two weeks now. He has fed, cared for, and trusted me. The beast lurking under his skin is not enough to deter me.
The camp is deserted by the living in a matter of minutes. Griffin crushes the last resistance. A few mercenaries escaped through the wastelands, but I have no doubts that the freed prisoners will kill them.
Griffin stands still among the chaos. He shakes with every breath. His long horns curve above his head, beautiful and terrifying. There is no hiding them under his hood now. The red scales almost cover the entirety of his face. A demon that crawled from the underworld.
“Helios, you need to bring him back,” says Beet through the wristband. “Or else he might stay like this for days.It’s hard for him to come back and put the monstrous part of his DNA to rest.”
“How?” I ask.
“He knows you,” she simply says.
I drop my gun and walk closer. Griffin’s red eyes follow my every move. His pupils are blown wide and the deepest color, like two black holes devouring the morning light. The red scales now covering his face shine.
“Griffin?” I say. “It’s me, Helios. It’s over.”
He doesn’t react. He just watches me. I get closer still. Once again, I can feel the heat radiating from his body. I think he might run hotter than any other living creature.
