“Weather’s pretty ominous today…” Richard noted, leaning on his replacement car at the foot of the bridge, on the edge of the Isle.
Down the long road ahead of him laid Newport, basked in the grim red light of the dark clouds above it. Something was stirring in the city, but Richard could neither see nor do anything about it.
“After all those demons fell from the sky, I thought all Hell would break loose, but I haven’t heard a peep since then. There’s no fire or smoke. I wonder if they got bored and left when they realised there was no one to torment?
Still… where did Drifter go? I go to all the trouble of digging up his past, only for him to say nothing and leave. Why? Does he not remember? No… How could his memories just disappear like that? What happened to the man who became Drifter?”
Richard could have spent the entire day wracking his brain, but nothing would come of it. There was no evidence left of Drifter’s previous existence. He was completely unpersoned.
“Woah… what’s that thing?”
He looked over at the city in exasperation. Then, he caught sight of a strange, massive object ascending into the sky. Richard couldn’t make out what it was and quickly grabbed a pair of binoculars, stored in the dashboard of his car. Upon closer examination, he became both anxious and horribly nauseous over what he found.
“What in God’s name…?”
The Garden of Eden. A vast, sprawling greenery, carpeted with lush grass and vegetation, surrounded by a wall of hedges. In the center of it all was the Tree of Life, which towered above all, bringing shade from the warm light above. However, to Drifter’s disappointment that’s all it ever was, just a garden. The personal paradise of a selfish king.
On the other side of the demonic wasteland’s oasis lay a staircase, spiralling around a massive rock pillar, leading toward a grand castle situated on a cliff. The castle was only the size of a small mansion, but its gothic architecture made it stand out from the rundown huts of the canyon below.
Drifter, Pad and Locke, all climbed the staircase. Not a word was spoken as they scaled higher up the cliff face, until they reached the top. A wide, flat landscape greeted them, along with the bustling of dusty wind from having ascended so high, with nothing but a steel gate separating them from the castle entrance.
From such heights they could see the entire network of canyons, where Pad’s people once lived, splitting off from the pillar, but without the blood of its community pumping through its veins, the heart of this world had long stopped beating. Locke finally broke the tense silence.
“Beyond these gates lies Castle Zaphon. There, inside its dilapidated walls lies the final hope for all demonkind.”
“Hold the fuck up.” Drifter insisted. “So, after all this bullshit, you’re telling me you want the sword to enter some stupid castle in the middle of nowhere? That’s it?”
“It has taken me a long time to return to this castle and to find the perfect moment to bring the Demon Sword here without interference from Nahas’ men.”
“Is there something inside the castle you’re looking for?”
“Indeed.”
“And what does Catherine have to do with all this?”
“Catherine…?”
“How do you know her?”
“I suppose I can explain.”
“No bullshit, just tell it to me straight.”
“It was around five years ago. After gathering the strength to finally conjure portals, I appeared in the human world, searching for the sword you carry on your back, but I made a miscalculation.
I was searching for a demonic power in the human world, but instead of finding the sword, I discovered an orphanage and in that orphanage, I found her.
Catherine, the demon girl, somehow already living among the humans. I put my search for the sword on hold, as this was a discovery I could not ignore. In the past, demons who appeared in the human world were revered as deities, to be feared or praised.
Our relationship with humans was always complicated, but Catherine, she lived with the humans as if she were one of them, completely unaware of her true nature.
I appeared to her one night. Understandably, she was terrified at first, but once I taught her about the demon world, she quickly became invested. Her repressed feelings and odd appearance. Everything was beginning to make sense to her.
Unbelievably, she had lived her whole life in that orphanage. As for who left her there and why? Those answers didn’t matter to me, what truly mattered was that a demon girl was somehow living peacefully with humans. Whether it was fate, or a mere accident, from that moment on, I stayed in touch with her.
She was the future I was striving for. A world where demons could finally set aside the pointless bloodshed and egotism and live peacefully with each other and humanity.
For her sake and others like her, I will obtain CORE, break the chains that bind me and move toward resurrecting the true king of this land.”
“But, in order to do that you’ll have to get past me, right?”
“If you give up your sword now, there will be no need for fighting.”
“I don't care how noble you think you are, I'm not trusting anyone with the power of this sword.”
“You refuse?”
“I’m not giving this sword up for nobody.”
“How thoughtless, but I expect nothing less from the man who’s caused more damage with that weapon than anyone else.”
“Come again?”
“How many lives have been lost by your hands? Demons and humans alike? Do you seriously believe that sword is safe in your hands? Is that a decision you’re qualified to make?
All I’ve seen from you is destruction, negligence and death. You’ve done just as much damage to human-demon relations than any of those monsters. You are the embodiment of humanity’s wrath. It’s time to pass the sword onto someone who can truly use it to save lives, before you destroy more of them.”
“Think you’re fucking smart, huh? Think you can do a better job than me? That all your problems will be solved just because you have some big powerful sword? Having power doesn’t solve shit!
Those monsters will always find a way to break you, no matter how powerful you are! If they can’t kill you, they’ll kill everyone around you! Hold the whole world hostage if they have to!
Think you can handle that? The burden of protecting everyone around you in a never ending battle against the monsters controlling the world?”
“With CORE’s power, we can finally resurrect this dead wasteland and bring about a new age of prosperity for demons and humans! We can purge those monsters! Why can’t you see that!?”
“Because it’s idyllic nonsense! Those monsters will still destroy everything you care about! And they won’t do it quickly either. It’ll be a slow burn, gradually eating away at your soul, until you wake up one day and realise you have nothing left to fight for.
If you think you have the power to change the world, then prove it! Come at me! I’ll slap your shit so hard, you’ll be forced to wake up!”
“Very well.”
As Locke slowly approached, Drifter turned to Pad.
“Take cover on the staircase, this might get rough.”
She took his advice and left the two of them alone to sort out their differences.
Drifter and Locke met in the center of the landscape, face-to-face, staring each other down. Drifter with his cold, black eyes and Locke with his single piercing blue eye. They waited in silence for someone to make the first move.
Due to his impatience, Drifter threw the first punch, smashing into Locke’s chains with blinding speed, but it did nothing but rattle them violently while kicking up dust. Locke was unfazed.
“Huh…” Drifter grunted. “Lot tougher than I thought.”
Suddenly, Drifter felt a slight tremor beneath him and leapt back as chains burst out of the ground, almost impaling him from below, but he couldn’t rest yet.
He continued hopping back as more chains shot out, one after another, driving him further from Locke. The chains soon stopped, as Drifter surmised he was out of Locke’s range. Assuming this gave him the advantage, he pointed his finger and fired a miniscule spark packing its usual explosive power.
In response, Locke thrusted one of his chains forward. It crashed through the spark, detonating it from a safe distance, and continued toward Drifter who dodged with a small slide to the left.
He quickly realised Locke’s range went much further than he thought. Before the chain retracted, Drifter caught it, tightly holding it in place. Locke tried to retrieve it, but Drifter’s grip was far too strong. He dug his boots into the ground to ensure he wasn’t going anywhere.
“You okay, Locke?” Drifter grinned. “You look like you’re having some difficulties.”
“What game are you playing!?” Locke chastised. “Are you being irritating on purpose!?”
Frustrated, Locke fired another chain. Intended to bat Drifter away, but Drifter instead caught it with his other hand.
“You know, these chains remind me of something.”
“This is not the time!”
“My memory’s pretty muddy, but I just remembered. I really loved swings as a kid.”
“What are you babbling about?”
“Swings! The tire swings were my favourite. The way you spun around, slowly building up momentum, reaching higher speeds with each twist. They were fucking cool! You want a demonstration!?”
Drifter’s aura flared up as he swung the chains aside, flinging Locke helplessly through the air. He swung the ball of metal around in circles, like an olympian hammer thrower, building up speed, but instead of tossing the demon away, he instead returned him to the ground by slamming the bundle of chains into the dirt with a satisfying crunch of iron and rock.
“Alright, let’s see how we did…”
He waltzed over to the collapsed pile of scrap, dusting off his hands, only to be greeted with an explosive burst of chains, firing in all directions. One chain even sliced through Drifter’s cheek, catching him off-guard.
Locke pushed himself up with his chains. It was hard to tell if he had taken any damage with his body buried underneath all the metal, but Drifter could definitively assume Locke wasn’t a fan of swings.
“You okay?” Drifter asked. “I can see your eye twitching behind all those big iron bracelets.”
Eight chains launched out of Locke’s back, all attempting to slam down on top of Drifter, but he simply slid in between all of them. They pounded at varying intervals, growing in speed, but none of it was enough to even graze Drifter, he was slipping through them effortlessly.
“Come on, Locke.” Drifter taunted. “You were talking a lot of shit earlier. Are you even trying?”
The clanking chains halted, but contrary to his boasting, Drifter was not in a favourable position. The moment he tried to taunt Locke a second time, he paused.
“Uh… I can’t see.”
Locke’s chains had kicked up a haze of dust and dirt. Drifter was so caught up in his theatrics he hadn’t noticed the smokescreen that slowly built up around him.
“Huh, didn’t see that coming… literally.” He grunted. “But, I can still sense your presence, Locke. You haven’t moved from that spot.”
“How perceptive of you.” Locke responded.
“If cheap tricks like that are all you've got, then you're done.”
Drifter rushed toward Locke, but was suddenly blindsided by a large metallic fist flying in from his left, crashing into his cheek and cancelling his attack. Drifter stumbled momentarily as he tried to figure out what just hit him.
“Fuck… what was-?”
Before he could finish, another fist slammed into his back. He remained standing, but was still stumped.
“Where did-?”
Another metal arm battered him in the gut. Being attacked from the front gave Drifter a clear view of what was assaulting him.
“Chains?” He wheezed. “You fucking serious? I can sense Locke, but I can’t sense his chains? That’s… fucking gay…”
Locke’s eight chains bundled together to create a large iron battering ram that he repeatedly slammed into Drifter over and over again. With no way of seeing or sensing which direction they were coming from through the haze, Drifter continued to take a beating.
And yet, Drifter drew no blood, his bones were intact and even his clothes remained untorn. He just stood there, allowing himself to be thrown around like a ragdoll.
Eventually, chains appeared from underneath Drifter and wrapped around his legs, followed by another set constricting his arms, locking him in place. Once the dust finally settled, Locke could see Drifter had been completely immobilized. He held him at a distance, lifting him into the air.
“Got you.” Locke declared.
“You think so, cunt?”
“Not even your power can break these chains, Drifter. Give up.”
“Make me.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“I could rip you apart if I wanted to.”
“Then do it.”
“Tell me, is the reason you’ve stuck around all these years simply out of childish stubbornness?”
“Yes.”
“Of course, but is this really how you want to die? Why not surrender the sword?”
“You fucking stupid? I’d be amazed if you could rip off a single limb, let alone kill me.”
“Is that so? Let’s put your claim to the test.”
The chains around Drifter’s limbs tightened and began to pull. As they gripped harder, Drifter’s aura intensified to fight back against the strain. The struggle turned into a tug-of-war with neither side willing to give an inch.
The stronger Locke tugged on his chains, the more Drifter’s power increased and his muscles tensed. It soon became clear to Locke that he wasn’t making any progress and that Drifter could easily stall him out with his near limitless stamina.
“This is getting a little queer, can we stop?” Drifter asked.
“Why…? Why won’t you break!?”
“I could say the same to you. What the hell are your chains made out of? I can’t break them, no matter how much power I use.”
“YOU LIE!”
Drifter was stunned by Locke’s sudden emotional scream.
“Even now, you’re holding back! Stop patronising me, Drifter! Show me your real power! CORE’s real power! This fight is pointless, otherwise!”
“Hey, now you’re catching on. How about you let me down and we stop wasting each other's time?”
“Never! As long as you’re in my clutches, you’re completely immobilised! I’ll keep you locked tight for days if I have to! Until you show me what you’re really made of!”
“What about food?”
“I haven’t needed food for over five years!”
“In that case, have some of this.”
With all his limbs securely fixed in place, Drifter still had one degenerate trick up his sleeve. He gathered his strength and shot a ball of spit from his mouth.
The sticky saliva fired like a bullet and upon contact with Locke and exploded in a white light. Drifter had focused his power into a volatile spitball. It wasn’t his proudest technique, but he had to admit, he was pretty amused by it.
“You repulsive infant!”
Recoiling from the blast, Locke’s chains loosened, freeing Drifter. As soon as he dropped to the ground, he dashed toward Locke, but his incoming attack was interrupted by chains suddenly bursting from the ground and locking his legs in place.
Angered by Drifter’s lack of respect for both his opponent and basic decency, Locke lifted him into the air and swung him around, just as Drifter did to him, twirling him in circles until he was ready to slam him face first into the dirt.
The loud crash was nothing but simple catharsis for Locke. He knew an attack like that would mean nothing to Drifter, but he still felt it was necessary to pay him back for the humiliation from earlier.
As predicted, Drifter got up relatively quickly and with Locke still recovering from the whirling, Drifter dashed forward and struck his fist in Locke’s general face area. The ground quaked and the earth split, but despite the sheer strength of the impact, it did nothing to shatter Locke’s shackles.
“Huh… that’s awkward.” Drifter moaned.
“Indeed. CORE’s power is too great for me to overcome and you’re not willing to use that power to break my chains.”
“I only use as much power as I need to. There’s no reason to go all out against you.”
“I’m honestly baffled. How can any creature with such immense strength be so afraid to use it?”
“I’m not afraid, I’m cautious!”
“Only those prone to making mistakes are inherently cautious. What was your mistake?”
“None of your damn business!”
“This is why I can't trust humans with such power. They either abuse it or are too frightened to wield it to its full potential. They lack the discipline to be trusted with such a large responsibility.”
“You think you could do a better job? One eye?”
“Naturally.”
“Okay then.” Drifter unsheathed his sword and chucked to the ground. “Let’s see it.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“No, no, show me. Let’s see how much you can handle it.”
The Legendary Demon Sword. CORE. After all this time, it was just laying before Locke, sitting in the dirt, waiting for him. He wasn’t sure what Drifter was trying to pull, but if wielding the sword would help break their stalemate then he was willing to take the risk.
His chain wrapped around the handle, but it wasn’t until he brought the sword close to his body that he felt its power flow through him. It was a burning yet refreshing feeling, like his soul was reinvigorated after having been kept in stasis for so long. He was immersed in a white light that engulfed him until…
There was a snap.
One of the padlocks that had burdened him for so long fell to the ground and disintegrated in the light. Then another one fell, and another one. Soon, the very chains that bound him slipped away and disappeared.
Locke was set free.
Having been released from his mobile prison, a single shining hand reached out from the blinding light to touch the first object it had felt in years, the Legendary Demon Sword.
As he took up the blade, the light dimmed, revealing Locke’s true form. He was the same species as Pad and Chain. A demon of pure white skin and youthful appearance, with a lean build. Compared to others of his species his grey hair was messy and only shoulder length, but his eyes were still the same piercing blue.
Drifter was fascinated with his appearance. He had no idea Locke even had a true form hidden under all those chains. Before he could crack wise to the newly unveiled demon, Locke vanished before him.
In that brief second, Drifter couldn’t sense his position, he moved so suddenly he lost track of him, but in the blink of an eye, he reappeared.
Without warning, Drifter was struck with the force of a ballistic missile, slamming him to the ground and dragging him across the land, tearing up the terrain as they flew by.
They stopped just shy of the edge of the cliff, with Locke standing over Drifter and his sword lodged straight through Drifter's chest. It wasn’t until Drifter started coughing up blood, that he realised what had just transpired.
“Y-you fucker!” Drifter sputtered.
“Oh? Is that pain you’re experiencing?” Locke calmly ridiculed, jamming the blade further in. “How unfortunate.”
“Who the hell are you!?”
“No one special. Just another demon. A demon, who five years ago, stood up to the monsters that ruled over us, to fight for our freedom, but failed.
Nahas, the monster among monsters, sealed me away in chains, for his own sick amusement, to make an example of me. A lesson to all those who dared to fight back against the tyrants that ruled over them. Assuming there was anyone left alive to listen.”
“Cool… can you get off me now!”
Locke jiggled the blade, to further irritate Drifter’s nerves, keeping him quiet so he could continue his story.
“But, it wasn’t over. Another demon soon appeared, wielding the Legendary Sword, but due to his inexperience he was forced to cast the blade away and then it fell into your ungrateful hands.
While you wandered the human world I was banished to the far reaches of the demon world. For five years, burdened by the weight of those chains, I searched for a way home, for hope, and now that hope has come.
Nahas and his followers are absent and I have returned to Castle Zaphon, the place where the true king fell. Now, I’m finally ready to bring him back.
And what did you accomplish in all this time? Nothing! You used your power selfishly. You helped nobody and killed aimlessly. You’re just as dangerous as the very demons you despise!
I will wield this blade and use its power to rid this world of the monsters destroying it. Only then can we finally begin repairing this broken hellscape.”
Despite having a sword lodged through his chest, Drifter still managed to let out a condescending laugh.
“You poor sod… That self-righteous bullshit sounds nice… but in practise… it’s a death sentence, to everyone around you… You think Nahas is going to fight you fairly…? That he’ll accept your challenge like a man…? He’ll destroy you before you even get the chance…
Friends, family, even your memories… nothing is off-limits to that monster… you can’t change anything…”
“So that’s it… you’ve given up…”
“Yeah…“ Drifter laid down, with his head looking over the cliff. “I guess I have…”
“A shame…” Locke pulled the sword out of Drifter, leaving him to bleed out. “What wasted potential.”
Locke walked away in disappointment as Drifter slowly lost consciousness from blood loss, but just when the dark abyss of death started to descend upon him, random thoughts started flowing through his mind.
“Could I really live with myself knowing I let that power fall into the wrong hands…?”
“What if they were some crazy sociopath…?”
“Even I don’t know how deep this well of power goes…”
“Please, take care of yourself…”
That last voice echoed in his mind. An earlier memory from an earlier time, when Drifter still had someone to fight for, reminding him that there’s still one other person he needs to protect, himself. This sudden instinct woke him from his nihilistic trance and triggered an explosion of power.
Suddenly, a burst of white light engulfed Drifter’s body as he rose from his bloody stupor. A burst of power Locke felt, without even looking at it. A presence of boundless strength where Drifter’s body lay. Power far beyond anything he’d ever felt before.
He faced the fallen warrior, stunned. His aura was practically on fire, his eyes were pupiless, burning white and his wound had completely sealed up.
“What is this!?” Locke cried. “How much power is this human hiding!? This is several times more than what he used against me! It’s beyond measure!”
In a flash, Drifter appeared before Locke’s eyes. He instinctively raised the sword and swung down to counterattack, but instead, the white warrior slid back, avoiding the falling blade.
With his knees bent, arm pulled back and fist at the ready, the failed attack left Locke wide open and in a second flash, Drifter launched his fist into Locke’s gut.
The force sent Locke flying like a burning white rocket, crashing through the iron castle gates and crumpled on the steps to the castle doors. With that, Drifter’s powers wore off. He stumbled for a moment as he regained his senses.
“Oh shit…” He looked around the area, relieved everything was still standing. “Okay, we’re good, nothing exploded, or died… we’re fine…”
Drifter casually strolled over to Locke’s collapsed body. He was still alive, but completely immobilized, he didn’t even have the energy to stand. Drifter reclaimed his sword, sheathing it back in its scabbard.
“Sorry… but I’d never forgive myself if I let an idiot like you lose this thing.”
He loomed over the exhausted demon, who could do nothing but watch, terrified of what he’d do next. Drifter clenched his fist and thrusted it in Locke’s face. He flinched, but slowly realised that the fist never connected, instead it had opened up into a palm.
“Nah, I’m just messing with ya. Come on, you’ve got shit to do.”
Locke reached out his hand, and Drifter pulled him to his feet.
“You’re helping me? Why?”
“You seem like a cool guy.”
“But, you hate demons.”
“Look, at this point, I’ve realised there’s more important shit going on to let petty prejudices get in the way.”
“I see… but why didn’t you use that power of yours from the beginning?”
Drifter sheepishly rubbed his neck. “It’s… complicated…”
“Well… thank you for sparing me.”
“Hey, Pad! You can come out now! Everything’s cool!”
Pad quickly rejoined the group, having hid on the spiralling stone stairs for her and her child’s safety.
“After everything I heard, I was almost certain one of you would die. I’m glad you two have reconciled.”
“We have?” Locke asked.
“There’s no need for sappy shit.” Drifter explained. “We’re cool.”
“Right… wait…” Locke suddenly noticed the young demon, huddled in Pad's robes. “Pad, you’re… carrying a child?”
“Y-yes…? I always keep him tucked away, for safety.”
“You raised a child in this wasteland?”
“He’s still very young, but we did our best…”
“Incredible… Drifter… do you now see why we must fight for the future of this world? For the future of our children. Human and demon alike. Please, will you help us?”
Drifter shrugged. “Got nothing better to do.”
“Then help us search Castle Zaphon. Hidden within its decrepit walls, the true demon king still sleeps.
Alexander.”
After having a bullet blasted through her head, Catherine’s body lay motionless on the ground while Amanda carried Dale out of danger. Their battle was over. She laid him down on the grass beside Stolz, who was equally exhausted.
“You two alright?” She asked.
“Being cared for by a human… “ Stolz lamented. “How humiliating…”
“Yeah, you’re fine.”
“Hey… Amanda…” Dale asked, just barely staying conscious. “Does it look bad?”
“What? The injuries?”
“No, those’ll heal… I mean my clothes…”
“Oh… they’re all burnt to hell. Just charred rags now.”
“Damn… Reine’s gonna be so disappointed…”
“At least you’ve got your priorities straight.”
“What happened to Catherine?”
“She’s… I… I did what I had to…“
“Oh…”
“Why didn’t you finish her off?” Stolz asked.
“What?” Amanda responded, baffled. “I just did, didn’t I?”
“No, she’s still alive.”
“But, I put a bullet through her head!”
“And you think that’s enough to stop a demon like her?”
“I saw her fall! It’s over! Right…?”
“If she were truly dead, the sky would have returned to normal.”
A feeling of dread washed over Amanda as she looked up into the dark, crimson clouds, still swirling around them.
“I told you.” Stolz continued. “Only a powerful demon can corrupt the atmosphere. That bullet to the head may have knocked her down, but it won’t finish her.
By drawing on the power of the hundreds of deceased, her strength has been significantly magnified. If you really wanted to end this, you would have destroyed her body while she was still unconscious.”
“But, I shot her in the head!”
“There are many demons with exceptional endurance and regenerative powers, which are naturally enhanced when their power grows. Even a fatal blow can heal in seconds, if left unattended. Of course, that doesn’t mean the recovery period will be pleasant.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“You shot her in the head, damaging the brain. I can’t even imagine what kind of mental trauma that must have brought upon her already fragile psyche.”
“Oh shit…”
Catherine stumbled to her feet. She was cold, confused and scared. Standing naked in the middle of a bloody wasteland, surrounded by death and coated in an oppressive red tinge. She had no understanding of where she was.
“Grandpa? Grandma?” She meagerly called out, shivering from the frigid wind, unable to recall anything that had happened, her memories having regressed to weeks earlier.
She stood in the silence, waiting for a reply but received nothing, she was completely alone. Her body ached, her skin irritated all over, like a stinging rash and her head pounded intensely. She was in pain, and didn’t know why.
Catherine tried to remember, but her mind was blank. She desperately tried to stop herself from crying, but tears quickly welled up.
“Where am I? What happened to my grandparents? Wh-why am I surrounded by corpses?”
Her head ached so intensely she couldn’t focus, her vision blurred. It was all like a horrible fever dream, unable to hold on to a single thought before another awful possibility barged into her brain.
“Are they dead? Did someone kill them? Did… I kill them? Were we attacked? Was I… violated!? Am I dead!?”
Anger. Hatred. Fear. Sadness. Shock. Confusion. A maelstrom of emotions amassed in her damaged skull, unable to contain them. She needed release, to purge her disturbing thoughts and to rid herself of her unbearable migraines. And so, she snapped.
With a gut wrenching scream that echoed throughout the city, Catherine became overwhelmed by her emotions and her powers exploded. She was engulfed in a burning red aura as the blood swirling around her came to a boil, with the discarded corpses of the demons she had killed melting in the heat. The river of blood and the corpses mixed together creating a thick, moist meaty bag.
“Oh, good lord…“ Amanda commented, in awe at the revolting sight. “What is she doing…?”
“What?” Dale asked. “I can’t get up, what’s happening?”
Her screaming suddenly ceased. “Humans… demons… they hate… hate… hate… hate… I hate them! My head… won’t stop throbbing… it won’t stop… why won’t it stop…? MAKE IT STOP!”
As she ranted nonsensically the mold of corpses she created gathered into the sky above her, forming into a massive, dripping cyst. Once it was complete, Catherine quieted down, as tendrils dropped down from the levitating lump, attaching themselves to her limbs, pulling her inside the gruesome floating sack.
The sack convulsed at a disturbing rate like a beating heart, as pained, wailing faces formed around the outside of its walls. Crying, hurting, begging for their misery to end. The loathsome, living fortress had become the amalgamation of all the regret and fear of the souls that forged it. Amanda couldn't begin to comprehend how they were supposed to stop such a monstrosity.
“So… on a scale of one to ten, how fucked are we?” She asked Stolz.
Suddenly one of the wailing faces opened its gaping maw unnaturally wide, snapping its own jaw and painfully fired a massive red laser that tore through the city, vaporising everything in its path, with bursts of flames following behind its trail.
“About an eight, I’d say…” Stolz answered.