Grief

[Chinaren]

Okay, I decided that Lords and Ladies was just not up to a high enough standard.  So I've decided to revisit another one of mine that isn't far off completion of the first draft. 

This one used to be called Avarice, but I've changed it to...

[Chinaren]

Thanks Petch and Angelica.  I'll stick some more up later on today.

[Chinaren]

Chapter 6 - Devil's Work

Smur rested his head against the cold earth for a moment. Shocked beyond action at the sight of the ancient enemy real and alive, and just ahead of him.  His survival instincts soon kicked in though, and he crawled back down the hill a little way.  There was no point hanging around here, someone was bound to come past at some point, and he’d be spotted easily enough in this flat land. 

Or would he?  He paused a moment, and then fumbled around in his pockets until he recovered the small invisibility cube he’d taken of Draggon’s companion.  He pressed the activation button, but failed to disappear. Instead a small voice spoke in a whisper.

“Power level too low to instigate cloak.  Recharge.”

Smur cursed, and was just about to throw the damned thing away when a thought struck him.  The blue cubes he’d taken from the Black Devil.  They were similar to the stones the Necromancer had used to recharge his own power.  Perhaps the Black Devils used them for the same purpose?  If that was the case…

He reached into his pouch and withdrew one of the blue stones, moving it near the cube, which instantly pulsed a dull amber color.  “Recharging.  Standby,” came the small voice again.

Smur watched, fascinated, as the cube pulsed and slowly changed from amber to yellow to green.  At the same time the stone’s blue faded, not completely, but noticeably, and Smur felt a tingling in his fingers, where he held the strange energy source.

“Charging complete.  All functions now available,” said the cube at last. 

Smur put the blue energy stone back in his pocket and nodded to himself. “Interesting,” he murmured. 

A noise made him look up.  Voices!  He stabbed down on the button again, and watched his hand shimmer and disappear.  Just in time, for over the hill came three more Black Devils.  The three weren’t wearing their helmets, and so appeared as normal people in their by now familiar suits.  Two men and one woman, chatting amongst themselves as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

Smur frowned as he examined these strangers.  Even though he could only see their heads, they appeared to be in remarkably good health. The skin on their faces was smooth and fair, and though all three sported hair cut short, it seemed to be full and healthy.  Where were the discolorations, the blemishes, the bald spots?  Even though Smur’s ex-tribe was relatively fit and strong, there wasn’t a single person that didn’t bear some trace of the Taint.  Skin discoloration, boils, some small growth or swellings here and there.  Maybe a limb or even a head slightly deformed.  Two out of three babies were born dead or so badly mutated that they were swiftly killed, even from those few women fertile and healthy enough to bear young. 

His musings were interrupted as the devils, the minions of the Destroyer, strode past his position, unaware of his existence.  He tried to hear what they were saying, but the moaning of the wind prevented even this.  He clenched his fists. Once more life had mocked him, slapped him in the face and proven how unfair things were. Here were the servants of the thing that had destroyed his world, walking around with powers he could only dream of, healthy and whole.  Well, it was a reminder, a heads up for him.  He would show no mercy in his dealings.  He would be the righter of wrongs, the person who helped tip the scales back towards the balance a little.  The first thing he’d do would be to find out more about these people, and if it meant hurting a few in the process, then all the better.

His decision made, Smur picked himself up and moved forward slowly, looking for anything that he may be able to take advantage of.  The small trail he was following led down to what appeared to be a makeshift street through the small houses.  It had been paved with some kind of light material which looked similar to the stuff the ancients had used in their cities.

The front way wasn’t the way to go, it was busy, and if there were guards, then that’s where they would be.  Smur began to circle around the settlement, prowling carefully along, wary for traps or watchers.  He found neither. 

What he found was much better.  A small house, similar to the others, but a little way apart from them.  The reason was soon obvious.  A ragged enclosure held a small herd of goaps.  The stupid creatures were mingling about, nibbling the grass or just standing and staring.  The familiar smell soon washed over him, and here was the reason this residence was not with the village.  Goaps were useful creatures, their milk was drunk or made into cheese, the meat was tough but nutritious, and their skin used for clothing and tents.  However, they were smelly, stupid and noisy.  The life of a goap herder was a dirty, lonely one. 

Smur didn’t care.  Here was a chance to interrogate a local, as well as perhaps gain shelter for the night.  The light was dimming even now. 

He found a slight depression behind the house, so he was not visible from the village, and turned of his cube to preserve power.  He watched as a black clad figure came out and milked the creatures, a procedure that involved a lot of swearing.  Smur thought that whatever these people were, they had the same problems with goaps his tribe did.

The task was completed, the goaps were herded into a small structure, and the person retreated inside just as Smur was beginning to cast glances at the ever darkening sky.  Despite the fading light he hadn’t seen any Shades.  Was this place empty of them?  Even as he had the thought a familiar shape appeared a little distance from him, hovering in the air, turning its dead eyes this way and that, looking for Taint knew what. 

Smur held his breath as it turned its gaze in his direction.  For a second he thought it was going to approach, but then the door to the house banged open again, and the spirit was distracted.  Smur looked on in bafflement as, instead of swooping down to feed, the Shade actually retreated, floating higher and further away, so that it was eventually lost to sight in the gloom.

Bewildered, Smur looked left and right.  What was happening?  Was this some strange upside down world where Shades ran away from people?  He needed to find out what was going on. 

With a last glance around, he stood up and, walking with a crouch, made for the house.  The goaps smelled him soon enough, and started bleating in their pen.  Smur ignored them, and they soon settled down.  He passed the little barn and crept up to a small window in the main structure, firestick in hand.  Peering through proved fruitless.  There was no light in the room beyond, and the glass was not clear in any case. 

Swearing under his breath, Smur edged around to the door, and put an ear to the wood.  Again, a futile exercise.  He could hear nothing over the noise of the goaps and the moaning of the every present wind. 

Cursing his luck, Smur pulled at the handle of the door as gently as he could.  Finally some success!  The handle turned and the door opened a crack. He peered inside, into a small dark room.  Two pairs of boots were discarded on the floor, and another door was several paces opposite.  Along one wall were various farming supplies.  Evidently it was a place to change from outside-wear. 

Smur crept in, opening the door as little as possible to prevent creaks.  From the shoes it would seem there were two people resident, one man and one woman.  Smur’s mouth almost watered at the thought of the woman.  It had been too long before he had satisfied himself with the tender flesh of a female. 

He stepped over the shoes and crept towards the other door, senses straining all the while.  This time he heard voices talking in low tones.  Looking around, he picked up a roll of cord from amongst the stores stacked against the wall. 

Then, after a moment readying himself, Smur kicked the door open and burst in, wielding his firestick. 

[Angel]

Liking how you're creating the contrasts of time here. Very interesting!

[ViP Perry Tratchett]

Atmospheric chapter here China.  Let's see more.

[Chinaren]

The two devils beyond were sitting at a table, eating some kind of food from strange metal plates.  They stopped, mid-bite as he entered, shocked into inaction. 

“Move and die,” snarled Smur, brandishing his gun. 

He glanced around.  The room was about as big as the tent the headman used in his village, furnished with plain but comfortable looking furniture.  The unadorned brick walls had been painted a dull orange color, giving the place a strange ambience.  A low bed was tucked away in one corner, a compact wooden chest next to it.  Opposite, in the other corner, was a small cooking area, the heat from the fireplace made for a warm and cozy atmosphere.  Colorful mats were spread over the floor, the largest in the center, under the solid table that the two occupants were sitting at. 

The man was medium build, with short dark hair.  The woman, and Smur lingered over her, was fairly petite.  Past her prime, but still attractive.  She sported red hair, again cut short, which gave her an exotic appeal.  Both were clad in the standard black, one piece suits that Smur had come to associate with the Destroyer’s minions.

“Who the hell are you?” asked the man, jumping to his feet.

Smur fired a warning shot with his gun, the blast hit the floor near the table, leaving a large burn mark in the rug.  “I ask the questions here!” he snarled.  The man sank back down into his chair, casting worried looks at his companion.

“Better,” said Smur. He threw the coil of twine on the floor, near the woman.  “You,” he gestured at her.  “Tie him up, and make it good, you’ll pay for any tricks I swear.”

Saying nothing the woman looked at the man.  He nodded slightly, and, trembling all the while, she did as bid, tying him to the chair he was sitting in.

When she’d done, Smur gestured again with his firestick.  “Good, now sit back down again,” he said.  Once she had complied, he moved over to the man, to check the bonds.  He was halfway there when the supposed captive leapt at him, hand outstretched. 

Smur was knocked backwards, taken completely by surprise by the subterfuge.  He pulled the trigger of his gun, and, more by chance than design, shot the man in the head from point blank range. 

There was a dull sound.  Blood, brains and skull fragments explode out over the room, coating the table, the woman and the ceiling. 

The woman screamed, eyes wide, as Smur struggled from underneath the headless corpse and to his feet, badly shaken.   

“Shut up!” he shouted at her, trying desperately to regain control of himself.  “I told you no tricks!  This is your fault.  I said shut up!”  He fired the gun again, hitting the table in front of her, totally destroying the meal they’d been having mere minutes before.  The table collapsed under the attack, but at least the woman subsided, sitting in her chair and whimpering. 

“Better,” said Smur, staggering to one side a little.  He took some deep breaths, trying to calm his beating heart.  At least he didn’t have to worry about the man anymore anyway.

“Who are you?  Why did you kill my partner? What have we ever done to you?”  The woman spoke at last, words coming out in heaving sobs. 

“You killed him,” said Smur.  “If you’d tied him as I said, he’d still be alive.  Think on that.  As for what you did to me, you destroyed my entire world.  That’s what you did.  I think one man against the millions your side wiped out is hardly equal, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sobbed.  “We never did anything to you.”

Smur strode over to her and grasped her face with his spare hand.  “You never did anything to me?  Look at me! Look at me woman!  See what I’m like?  This is the Destroyer’s work.  Admittedly not directly.  The Shades did this to me, when that traitor Rendolf staked me out to die, but who brought the Shades down on us?  The Destroyer, that’s who!”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” the woman complained, squirming in his grasp.  “Okay, I admit it.  Our side did launch the attack, but only because you were going to tear the universe apart with your quantum wreckers!  It was self defense!”

“I’ll not listen to your lies Devil!” snarled Smur.  He held her arm and pulled her to a standing position.  “Time for more revenge.  Strip!”

“What?”

“You heard me.  Take off your clothes, now.”

“I can’t!  You’re making a mistake.  Others will be coming.  When you killed Ron they…”

“Quiet!  Off with the clothes!  No speaking.”  Smur interrupted, impatient now the prize was so close.  He licked his lips as the woman hesitated, but finally complied.  He watched closely as she slid her hand over an area near the neck.  The black material suddenly sprouted a seam down the front. 

The woman started to pull at it, but then hesitated.  “I… I…”

“Do it.” Smur waved his firestick, breathing hard.

Her face a picture of despair, she pulled the seam apart. Smur leant forward, drool sliding down his chin in anticipation.

“What the…?!”  He jerked back. 

Under the suit was the flesh he desired, firm and clean, but there was more.  Running from the inside of the black material were slender tubes.  The tubes, which seemed to be pumping a blue liquid through them, ran into the woman’s’ skin. A row of them down one side, from breast to navel, maybe twenty in all. 

“What the Taint is that?” he asked, stepping back.

The woman pulled the clothes tight again.  “I know who you are,” she said.  “You live here, on this world don’t you?”

“Of course!  What are you talking about?  Wait!  You don’t?”

“Listen, we’re here to help you!  You have us all wrong.”

“No.  No, you can’t trick me like that.”  Smur raised his gun again.  “You’re the minions of the Destroyer!  The evil that laid waste to the ancestors.  You haven’t changed in all that time.  I saw what you did to the Necromancer.”

“The Necromancer?”  The woman opened her mouth. “You’ve seen him?  You know where he is?”  She lurched forward, careless now of her suit, even ignoring Smur’s gun.

“You must tell us where he is!  He has the Key!  Only he can get us out of here!”

Smur backed away, thoroughly confused.  “I don’t understand.”

“He’s one of us!  He’s our leader!  Without him we’re trapped here.  All of us are trapped here.  Listen, we came to save you, to take you to Blue Skies, but without our Captain, the necromancers as you call him, we cannot escape.  You must lead us to him.  Time’s running out, the rift is getting wider. The Punisher will be here soon enough, and then we’re all doomed.”

“I don’t…” Smur was interrupted by a hammering on the door.

“Essy!  Ron!  You okay in there?”

Smur scowled.  “You called your friends!  You’re going to pay for that.”

“Stop!  Listen!  I’m telling the truth, we’re not your enemy!”  The woman seemed desperate now, probably fearing for her worthless life.

The banging came again.  “Open up!  Who’s in there?”

Smur looked at the door, then back at the woman, then at the door again.  Trapped!

[ViP Perry Tratchett]

Oh ho!  Now he's done for!

[Chinaren]

Chapter 7 - The Hard Truth

“We’re coming round the back!” the voice said, and the sounds of footsteps could be heard moving outside the small building. 

Smur growled. Why was everything he tried to do thwarted?  He glanced at the woman, who was looking anxiously at him, and made his mind up.  Stepping forward, he grabbed her around the waist and jammed his firestick into the side of her neck.

“If anyone comes in here the woman gets it!” he shouted.

There was a sudden silence from outside as the devils re-evaluated the situation.

“Who’s there?” came the voice again.  A male, probably the leader of the group.  “If you’ve harmed anyone I swear…”

“Don’t hurt him!” The woman, Essy the devil had called her, shouted out. “He knows the captain!”  She shut up as Smur twisted the firestick.

Another pause, then the voice again, this time in a less harsh tone.  “Is that true?”

“I’ll not let myself be captured by the Destroyer’s minions!” Smur called out.

“Listen, if you know where the captain is, perhaps we can reach a deal.  We’re not here to harm people.  We’re trapped here just as much as anyone.”

“Like you didn’t harm us before?” Smur asked answered, pulling his hostage back against the wall to a better defensive position. 

“Harm you before?  I don’t know who you are, how can I have harmed you?”

Smur could hear noises all around the house now.  “Listen!  I mean it!  If anyone comes in here Essy dies.”  He gripped his gun harder, and the woman whimpered. 

“Okay, okay. Calm down.  Can I come in and talk?  I promise I won’t harm you.”

“Ha, the promise of a devil!”  Still, Smur looked around.  He was surrounded, things weren’t looking good.  If he’d have been the man outside he’d have sent word back to the village by now, and there would be a group of hunters rushing up even as they spoke. 

The man outside was obviously thinking along the same lines.  “You know there’s no way out for you.  The best you can do is make a deal.  Let me in and we’ll talk.  I’ll come in unarmed, another hostage for you.  How’s that?”

Smur hesitated, but the situation wasn’t promising as it was, he didn’t have much to lose.  “Very well, but only you, and take your gloves off!  I’m not ready to be blasted by your fireballs thank-you.”

“Okay then,” came the reply. There was a pause and the door started to open.  “I’m coming in,” he said needlessly. 

Smur gripped the woman tighter as he watched.  The door opened just enough for the figure, a man in the usual black suit, sans gloves, to slip inside.  He was probably a little older than Smur, with a stern face and a head of full black hair. Smur glowered with jealousy.   

The man looked around, taking in the damage and the headless body of Essy’s friend with stern eyes before focusing on Smur and his prisoner.  “My names’ Smith,” he said.     

“I’m happy for you,” Smur snarled back. 

Smith took a deep breath.  “Listen, we really aren’t your enemy.  We came here to help people get away from this land.”

“You were the ones that destroyed it!” retorted Smur.  “Why would you help us?”

“It’s true,” Essy said.  “Ron and I was part of a small tribe, probably like the one you’re from, before they rescued us.”

“Impossible!” Smur said.  “Look at you!  There’s no mark of Taint on you.”

“That’s our medicine,” said Smith, edging forward a step.  Smur made a warning face, and the man stood still again. 

“Really,” said Essy.  “They can cure you too! They did me.”

Smur thought about it.  A cure? Could it be possible?  To be fit and strong again?  Healthy?  Maybe strong enough to wrest control back from that scum Rendolf?  To have Alice not shy away every time he came close? 

“It’s true,” said Smith, sensing his hesitation.  “Your injuries are bad, I’ll admit, but we can heal you.  If you help us.  If you can find our Captain then we’ll even overlook the murder you’ve done here.”  He gestured at the body on the floor.  “I guarantee you will not be harmed.”

“I was like you before,” Essy said, “but now I’m one of them.  I’ve joined them.  You’ve seen me, they haven’t hurt me have they?”

“What about those tubes?” demanded Smur.

“It’s the medicine, nothing more.  Something to stop the radiation… the Taint from affecting me.”

Smur looked around, slightly overwhelmed with all this information.  He made one last attempt.  “What about the destruction of this world?  You did that, your master did anyway, the Destroyer.”

The man shook his head gently.  “There’s no such thing as the Destroyer…” he started.

“Ha!  Then what about the Shades?”  Smur jumped in.  “They’re his minions!”

“The being you’re referring to is real, yes, but he isn’t what caused the destruction of this planet, at least not directly.”

“Exactly!  That was you!” Smur said, sure he was back on track now.  “Admit it! You destroyed us!”

“We did that, I admit it.”  The man shrugged.  “The colony worlds had no choice, Earth was going to unleash the Beast against us.  We had had to stop them before they did that.”

“The Beast?”  Smur was puzzled once again.

“The real Punisher, the Destroyer,” Smith explained.  “Listen, I’ll give you a quick history lesson.”

“It had better be quick,” Smur said, backing against a wall and pulling Essy with him.

Smith sat down slowly on the chair Essy had been sitting on before Smur had burst in.  “Very well, but just hear me out okay?  It was many years ago, before the destruction.  The Solar Empire, based here, on this planet, Earth, was at war with the Colonial Alliance.  The war was terrible, millions of lives were lost, whole planets destroyed or damaged beyond repair, but even with their superior technology the Empire was losing.  So it started construction of what we believe was called the Reaper project.   

“Reaper?  I’ve heard that before somewhere.”  Smur frowned, trying to remember. 

“It’s just a name,” the man said dismissively.  “The idea was to tear through the multiverse and call forth a terrible force, which we call the Beast.  You call it the Destroyer, or Punisher.”

“They wanted to summon it?” gasped Smur.

“Indeed. It was a desperate move, we don’t believe that anyone can actually control the Beast, such is its power. It belongs to another dimension, another realm where the laws of our universe don’t apply.  Still, the Empire believed it could, and it was desperate.  The Colonial Alliance knew this and launched a last ditch attack.  Abandoning all defense of our worlds, we sent our entire fleet into the solar system, the heart of the Empire with all its defenses.”  Smith paused for a moment, his eyes looking back in time. “I’ve seen the recordings.  The battle was terrible.  Both sides suffered huge losses.  There was no quarter given, the Empire and the Alliance threw everything they had into that last desperate fight.”

“What happened?” asked Smur, caught up in the tale despite himself.

“The Earth scientists tried to open the rift early, summon the Beast before they everything was ready.  The Alliance forces detected the power surge, and had no choice.  They launched their missiles.  All of them.”

“Missiles?”  Smur frowned.  “You mean like arrows?”

“Indeed like arrows,” said Smith, smiling wearily.  “Arrows that can fly through space.  Arrows that can each destroy cities.  Big arrows.”

“Taint!” said Smur. He’d always known the ancients were powerful, but the scope of this revelation left him gasping. 

“Indeed.  The Earth defenses took out a large proportion of the incoming attack, but such was the scale of the thing they couldn’t stop it all.  Enough got through.  Earth, humanities’ home world, was plunged into a nightmare.  Eighty four percent of the population perished, either from the attacks, the intense radiation, or the nuclear winter that followed.  Billions of people, dead.”

Something sparkled on Smiths’ face, and Smur saw that a small tear was running down his cheek.  The man wiped it away and carried on. 

“But that wasn’t the end of it. The attack stopped the summoning, but the rift had been partially opened.  It wasn’t large enough for the Beast to get through, but it was big enough for its minions.”

“The Shades,” said Smur.

“Exactly,” said Smith.  “The devastated people of Earth woke up to a new and horrible threat.  The spirit realm now haunted this broken world, claiming even more of the few survivors, but even that isn’t the worst of it.”

“How can it get worse?” wailed Smur, appalled at this new information.

“Each time a Shade claims a victim, the energy released passes to the other side, which the Beast uses to open the rift more.”

“It’s getting bigger?” Smur asked.  “What does that mean?”

“It means that the Beast can send more of its ilk, more powerful ones, in an effort to gain more energy.  Power enough to open the rift wide enough for It to finally come through.  If that happens, the Earth will be razed of all life. Nothing will survive.”

Smur remembered the future he’d met the necromancer in.  “I think I’ve seen that,” he said.  “Can nothing stop this?”

Smith made a gesture that Smur couldn’t interpret.  “It’s been a long time.  The destruction of Earth didn’t stop the war, but with it destroyed the Alliance forces slowly overwhelmed the Solar Empire one planet at a time.  It took many, many years before our armies finally achieved victory.  The Moon cities resisted to the last, refusing to surrender even when they knew there was no chance, and were wiped out, decimated by orbital bombardment.   Even now outposts survive, though greatly reduced in capacity. Once the war was finally over we had to rebuild our own devastated worlds and help the defeated Solar Empire.  We should have returned to Earth sooner, but many didn’t want to face it.  When we finally did, we realized what was going on.  We’ve since been trying to figure a way to stop It, but so far no one has come up with anything. The task is made more difficult because it’s been getting harder and harder to come here. The planet is shrouded in a mist that’s somehow affected with the Other side’s power.  It disrupts our systems and makes it hard to land and take off.  Only when the mist is at its weakest can we land, but those breaks are getting less frequent.  So much so, that even if we found the captain now, I’m not entirely sure we’d be able to leave.”

[ViP Perry Tratchett]

It all falls into place.  Well thought out China.

[Chinaren]

Thanks Perry.

[Chinaren]

Another segment...


“So why are you here?” Smur asked. 

“I told you before.  To rescue the survivors, and to try and research the rift where we can,” Smith said.  “We’ve been coming here for years now, evacuating people.  It’s hard, slow work, and we’re the last ship.  All the others have left. It’s become too dangerous to visit anymore.”

“I see,” said Smur, pondering the implications of all this.  “And the necromancer is your captain?  He thinks you are some devils out to get him.”

“The captain was out in the city on patrol.  We don’t know what happened exactly, but the Shades attacked.  They usually leave us alone, the Blue that’s in our medicine repels them in some way, we’re not sure why.  He was badly hurt, and the incident twisted his mind somehow.  We tried to rescue him, but he attacked us.  We fear he’s gone mad.  Even so we tracked him, we have implants that can trace where we are, but he kept evading us, and then one day he simply disappeared.”

“The portal, he went through the portal,” said Smur. 

“Our portal?” It was Smith’s turn to be puzzled. 

“No there’s another.  He went through that one.”

“No wonder we couldn’t detect him then. But his signal recently appeared.”

“Yes, he came back with me,” said Smur.  “I saw your men.  They followed us. But wait, if you can track him, why do you need me?” He remembered his situation and pressed his gun to Essy’s neck once more.

“The tracker isn’t working anymore. After that encounter he must have done something, disabled it.”  Smith leaned forward. “Tell me, where did you go after you escaped?  Where is the captain now?  Tell me and we will let you go, I swear, help you even.”

Smur hesitated.  He had no more idea as to where the necromancer was than this man, but if he told them that they wouldn’t need him. 

“Come on, my word is good,” Smith said, mistaking Smur’s hesitation.

“You would say that.”  But Smur was thinking hard.  They thought he knew where the necromancer, or captain as they called him, was.  That was the only thing keeping him alive.  Best to take advantage of the situation while he still could. There was no other way out of this alive that he could see.

“I’ll lead you to him,” he said.  “But I want to be cured first.”

“Impossible,” Smith said.

“You said you could fix me!” Smur growled, squeezing Essy’s arm and making her squeak.

“I don’t mean that!  We can cure you, but it takes time.  You can’t get better from radiation, the Taint I mean, overnight, it takes weeks, maybe months.”

“How convenient,” Smur said.

“But we can fit you out with a suit,” Smith went on.  “You’ll get some benefit pretty much instantly.  The Blue will make you feel better, give you more energy and start the healing process.  It takes some time to cure radiation poisoning, and your… deformities will need surgery, which will be a protracted procedure.  We simply don’t have time or the means to make you fully better right now.”

Smur took a deep breath.  “Very well. You can fit me up with a suit then.  Another thing, and this is the most important thing.”

“What?”

“You have to promise, to swear by your gods if you have any, that if you get off this planet you’ll take my daughter with you, regardless of what happens to me.”

Smith eyed him, and Smur wondered if he was going to be asked the usual question.  However, it didn’t come.  “I promise,” the devil said instead, nodding.  “You’re going to have to release Essy first though, as an initial gesture of trust if nothing else.”

Smur hesitated, unwilling to surrender his only advantage. 

“Do as he says,” Essy said.  “It’s not like you have a lot of choice.”

After an internal struggle, Smur complied, lowering his gun slowly and releasing his hold on his captive.  Essy stepped away from him, rubbing her arm, and then moved over to the body of Ron, kneeling down beside him and putting a hand on his chest.

“I’m sorry about him,” Smur said, trying to show some remorse now he was all but defenseless. “If he’d done what I said…”  He trailed off.  Essy wasn’t listening.

“Come with me,” said Smith, gesturing. “I want to get you ready.  The sooner the better.  Every day counts now.”

Smur nodded and followed the man outside, putting his firestick away at the same time.  If you’re going to each a Beetleroach, may as well eat a Goap, as the saying went.

Outside a small group of men were waiting, six in all.  They looked alert and highly capable.  Three had their helmets on, the others were bare headed.  All looked fit and well, and all wore the black suits, which Smur now understood the reason for.

“One down inside,” Smith said to the nearest man, who nodded and led three others into the structure.  Smith then turned to Smur.  “Follow me,” he said.

Smur obeyed, walking slightly behind the black devil as he set off back towards the main village he’d seen earlier.  Several of the others fell in behind him.  He was at their mercy now, if he’d misjudged them…

A Shade appeared a little way away, off to the side and above them, interrupting his thoughts.  The devils glanced at it, but otherwise ignored the thing.  The Shade glared at them with its black hollow eyes, and Smur could almost feel the hatred in the stare. He felt a tingling in his hand as it swooped slightly closer, and a strange feeling swept over him, a cold and somehow dark feeling, as if he could sense the presence of the creature.  He shuddered. It was not a pleasant experience. 
 
“Damn sprits,” muttered the man behind him.  “Cursed things.”

Smur quickened his pace slightly, catching up with Smith, who glanced at him sideways.

“What are they?” Smur asked.

“What?  The Shades?”

Smur nodded, and Smith made a face.  “We’re actually not certain, but popular theory is they’re ghosts of the dead.  Perhaps the ones who were killed as the rift was opened, and were somehow drawn in.  Others say they’re the dead who were killed in our attack, and their hatred of the still living keeps them here.  Still another school of thought is that they’re spirits captured by the Beast, and enslaved to Its will.”

“What do you think?” asked Smur.

Smith took a deep breath and raised his eyebrows a little before answering. “I think it might be a little of each,” he said finally.  “One thing’s for sure though, they hate us, the living, with a passion that’s frightening.”

“If nothing else, I’ll agree with you on that one,” said Smur.  “Personally the feeling’s mutual.”

“They were the ones who… caused your injuries I assume,” Smith said.  “You’re lucky.  Not many survive a Shade attack.”

“Lucky.”  Smur rolled the word around his mouth. “Lucky.  Betrayed by those I trusted and hunted like a wild Hund, an outcast from my tribe.  Scraping an existence from the shattered remains of the past.  Skulking in ancient ruins, trying to avoid the attention of the Shades and creatures that haunt this dead place.  Denied access to my daughter, who winces at the very sight of me.  Yes.  Lucky. That’s me.”  He spat on the ground.

Smith remained quiet at this bitter outburst, and the small group walked on in silence, over a worn and muddy path towards the dim lights of the settlement.  The Shade trailed them, hovering in the air like a balloon blown on the breeze.  Occasionally it dipped down, as if starting an attack, but then it would stop and bob upwards again, seemingly uncertain.  Finally, as they closed on the village, it faded from view, disappearing into the gloom of the night, much to the relief of Smur. 

[Angel]

And another excellent segment! Fair to say i'm enjoying this

[ViP Perry Tratchett]

I agree with Angel, good work. Keep it coming China, and I've put you in for the Fest thing too.

[Chinaren]

He concentrated his attention on the settlement again, which appeared to be roughly circular, the houses huddling around the black tower that loomed up in the center, as if it were some kind of god-like Shepard watching over its flock. 

The path become smooth suddenly, paved in the same fashion as the ancients’ cities.  It suddenly dawned on Smur that it probably was the same.  Both sides no doubt used the same methods.  The thought reminded him how dangerous these people could be, and he resolved to be extra careful.  No matter how much power they could wield, they were still people, and could be killed if needed.  He comforted himself with that thought as they walked down the narrow lane, which was lined with small houses, apparently made of stone and materials recovered from ancient cities. The street was quiet, everyone was evidently snug inside, sheltering from the cold wind that blew through the night.

“Survivors we’ve rescued live in these structures,” said Smith, breaking the silence.  We hadn’t planned on being here so long, so we didn’t have enough porta-cabins to house everyone.  Of course, if we don’t find the captain and recover the key, it will all be for nothing.”  He looked at Smur meaningfully.

“I’m helping already aren’t I?” Smur scowled back. 

Smith made a noise under his breath, but didn’t reply. 

They continued on, and now the houses were regular, single storey circular structures with small round windows placed at head height.  They were made of some white substance he couldn’t identify.  These were obviously the porta-cabins Smith had mentioned.  Their version of tents no doubt.  He shook his head.  Even in something as simple as shelter the difference between his old tribe and the devils was vast.  Something that could no doubt be used to his advantage.

“Smith and company, including one guest coming in,” Smith said suddenly, apparently speaking into thin air. 

Smur looked puzzled, and then realized they were heading directly for the tower.  It loomed above them, standing on four black legs like some kind of massive beast waiting to consume all foolish enough to approach it.  Even with the recent explanation of the history of his world, the thought of entering the lair of the Destroyer made him stumble slightly. 

“You alright?” Smith asked.

“Fine. I’m fine.”  Smur nodded, taking a deep breath and steadying himself.  They may be servants of the Destroyer, but they were human.  It wasn’t as if he was entering the Other side, into the lair of the Beast, as they’d described it.  Then he’d be concerned! Luckily that would never happen. 

His thoughts were distracted by a movement from a little way up the tower.  A door had opened, spilling bright white light out into the night.  From this door a ramp of black metal started to extend, slowly lowering itself to the point where Smith, Smur and the two guards now stood, waiting. 

It finally thudded into the ground and stopped, and Smith started up, his footsteps ringing hollowly as he strode up towards the doorway.  Smur hesitated.

“Go on you,” one of the men behind him gave Smur a push.

Snarling, he shrugged them off and stepped forward onto the ramp, walking slowly up towards the entrance to the tower.  Smith was waiting for him by the door.  He turned and entered as Smur approached.

Shielding his eyes from the light, Smur stepped over the threshold and stopped, looking about.

Despite the illumination, he’d half expected the interior of the tower to be dark and lined with skulls and other gruesome trophies.  Such were the tales that he’d grown up with about the Destroyer.  The reality was about as far from that as was possible. 

He found himself in a small square room with plain white walls and a light gray floor.  The door he’d entered through was a huge thick thing, as wide as a man and made of metal.  Ahead of him, another similar door was closed.  There was nothing else in the room except for a pane of black glass set into the wall opposite.  As the guards followed him in, another devil, the one who’d been waiting inside, nodded, and the men behind him swung the outer portal closed, sealing it with a strange round handle. 

There was a hiss, and the light suddenly dimmed.  A woman’s voice spoke, using a language Smur didn’t understand.  There was another hiss, and a breeze sprung up around them.  Air that smelled like nothing he’d ever encountered washed over him.  The invisible woman spoke again, more urgently this time, and Smith responded in the same language.  It sounded like a command, and indeed, the woman answered in what appeared to be a more conciliatory tone.

The lights resumed their previous level, and with a clunk, the inner door opened, the handle spinning around by itself.  Smur looked on, wide eyed as it swung open to allow them entry.

“You need to come with me, we have to get you decontaminated,” said Smith.  “Follow me and don’t touch anything.”

Smur did as he was bade, arms held tightly around his bent body as they padded down a long corridor.  The place was silent, no wind, no echoes of the dead, nothing seemed to penetrate this magical tower. 

After a few moments they came to a tube, and Smith pointed at it.  “Step in here. You’ll float down.  Don’t worry, you won’t fall.”

“Oh, one of these. I know how to use a float tube thank-you,” Smur replied haughtily. “I am from Earth you know.  My ancestors probably invented these things.”  He stepped into the space and tried to look confident as he sank slowly downwards.  The look of bemusement on Smiths’ face was worth the journey he’d taken so far all by itself, and he began to resume some of his confidence.

The tube journey didn’t last long, and he soon found himself at the entrance to some kind of office.  Behind a desk was a young woman with the apparently regulation short hair.  She was certainly attractive, but what gained Smur’s attention was the fact she was dressed in white robes of some kind, and not the usual black suit. 

“New one for you Alice,” said Smith, making Smur jump.

“Alice?” he repeated, startled.

“Yes sir, that’s my name,” the woman said, smiling at him. 

“Oh.” Smur nearly broke down then.  Seeing this young woman standing there, healthy and well in front of him, brought back all his fears and hopes in one gigantic sudden rush.  “That…that’s my daughter’s name,” he stuttered.

“Oh,” the new Alice said.  “Is she with you?  How old is she?”

Smur made a face.  “No. Not just yet, but I swear she will be.  She’s only a child.”  He turned to Smith.  “Remember, you promised to take my child with you when you go.  If you don’t, you can kill me now, for I’ll do no more of your bidding.”  He crossed his arms.

“Relax,” Smith said.  “I will keep my word, we’ll get take your daughter when we go.”  He paused.  “If we can find here, and if we go at all of course.  You’re the key to that you know.”

“Let’s do this then,” said Smur.

“This way please,” said Alice. He followed her, eyeing her wiggling behind as they walked into another room.  He stopped short.

“A torture chamber!” he gasped, backing up.  “Betrayed!” He felt for his firestick, but Smith and the two other held his arms.  “I’ll kill you!” Smur shouted. 

The room they’d entered was the same white color as the others, but a reclining chair lay in the center.  Above it a large box hung, lined with water and acid tubes terminating in vicious looking spikes, clamps and pincers.  Scattered around the chair other alien instruments of pain stood waiting for their next victim.

“Calm down!” Smith shouted at him. “It’s okay!”

“Liar!” Smur gasped, “You’re going to torture me!  I’ll not speak! You’ll never get your captain now!”

“We’re wasting our time here,” growled Smith.  “Get him strapped down.”

The men manhandled Smur, half carrying him, half dragging him over to the chair as he thrashed about and resisted, screaming and crying all the while.

Then there was a small prick in his neck, and he glanced around to see Alice stepping back, something shiny in her hand.  “You…” he gasped.  Then his vision faded.

[Chinaren]

Seem to have lost all my readers in this mass desertion of Tome, but here's another chunk for anyone who's passing...


“He’s coming round,” a voice said. 

Smur opened his eyes, squinting in the light.  There was movement above him, and he could just make out the shape of someone’s head.  Blinking, he managed to focus on the face of Smith, who was looking down at him with an even expression.  Slightly behind him stood the woman, Alice.

“How do you feel?” the man asked.

Opening his mouth to curse at the him, Smur stopped as he suddenly took stock of what he was feeling.  Actually, what he wasn’t feeling was probably a more accurate description. True, the myriad aches, sores and itches were still there, but the intensity was greatly reduced, to the extent he barely registered them.  He hadn’t felt this good since before his betrayal! 

He closed his mouth, and then opened it again. “What…?” he croaked.       

“See for yourself.”  Smith gestured.

Smur raised his head, and then his eyebrows as he looked down at his own body.  He was wearing a black suit!  It was opened slightly at the chest, and his bare feet protruded out of the legs, but there was no doubt, it was a black devil suit.  He lifted one hand, marveling at the lack of pain from his muscles as he did so, and gently lifted the jacket a little. 

Underneath a row of tubes, just like the ones he had seen on Essy, were busy pumping the blue fluid into his body.  He poked at one of them, but there was no tangible pain.  Looking up at Smith, who was smiling a tight smile, he made a questioning expression. 

“Don’t worry, it’s a full suit, minus the gloves though.  Sorry, we don’t trust you quite enough to arm you.  The boots are on the floor next to the bed though.” He pointed.  “You can get up if you like.  There’s nothing else we can do for you just now, and we’d like to get moving.”

“Thank-you,” said Smur, in a moment of weakness.  Then he raised his body and swiveled around, so he was sitting on the edge of what turned out to be a narrow bed in a room that was barely big enough to hold them all.

He had just put on his boots and was standing up, feeling light as a feather when a thought struck him, and he laughed out loud.

“It just occurred to me,” he said in response to Smith quizzical expression.  “I’m a Black Devil now!”

>

“Time to earn your keep,” Smith said, and stepped through the portal.

It turned out that the procedure had only taken a few hours, and then they’d left him to rest, which had given him his first ever night without the screamers crying out in his dreams, tormenting him in his sleep.  Truly these devils were blessed with a carefree existence.

They’d fed him a strange kind of porridge that was fairly bland, though filling, returned him his belongings in a back that he could sling over his shoulder, though they’d refused to give him back his firestick.  Then he’d been led outside, where they’d met Smith’s team of six men from the day before.  Two were carrying long tubes, which could only be weapons.

From there it had been a relatively short walk through the village and back to the portal.

Two of Smiths’ men stepped after their leader, and the others looked at Smur meaningfully.  He sighed and walked into the blue light, eyes tightly closed. 

It wasn’t the same as last time.  There was the feeling that his body was being stretched thin, but this time it seemed to last for longer, and he could have sworn he could detect a… presence nearby.  A monstrous presence.  One that radiated a cold evil, a longing for warmth, for light, for life.  It seemed to reach for him as he traveled through the strange featureless void.  He tried to shy away, but he had no form.  Just as it was about to reach him he popped forward, stepping clumsily back into the shattered world of his ancestors. 

“Are you alright?” asked Smith, as he staggered about, nearly falling back into the portal.

“Did you feel it?”  Smur asked. 

“Feel what?”  He glanced at the doorway as the rest of his team popped into existence.

Smur opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it.  What would he say?  They might think he was going mad and decide he wasn’t worth keeping alive.  “Nothing,” he said.  He looked about, trying to get his bearings.

They were in the same shattered part of the city that he’d seen before, when he’d been trailing the devils.  By the look of the sunlight it was early afternoon.  The fallen tower loomed up over them, just behind the portal.  Smur wondered if the portal had been there before the building had fallen, or if it had somehow been brought into being after the disaster.

“Come on,” Smith said.  “We don’t want to hang about here too long, the radiation’s too strong.  This place must be near an impact point.”

The group set off at a brisk pace, the six devils formed a circle, with Smur and Smith in the middle. 

They made their way out of the depression swiftly, moving like dark ghosts in the pale light, climbing over the rubble as silently as possible, ever alert for danger.  Smur reveled in the extra strength the blue medicine gave him. He felt stronger than he had in years. 

They moved out of the hollow zone and back into an area of relatively less damaged buildings.  As they did so one of the men carrying one of the larger guns swung around, pointing the weapon at a blasted out window. 

“Don’t shoot!”  A familiar voice came from the wreckage.  “Smur!  Tell… them not to shoot, I surrender.”

“A friend of yours?” asked Smith, as a ragged figure staggered forth, his hands held high.

“It’s Mestro!” gasped Smur.  He strode forward to Draggons’ companion, who looked in bad shape.  Dried blood covered half his head, and his clothing was torn, revealing several more injuries.  “What happened to you?  Where are the others?  Is Alice okay?  Speak!”  He shook the man.

“Steady there!” said Smith, stepping forward and restraining Smur.  “Can’t you see he’s hurt?”

Smur held off slightly, but gripped Mestro by the arm.  “Tell me what happened!” he demanded.

“Your friends ambushed us before we got back.  Took… the others.  I barely got away.  Tried to catch you, but… wasn’t strong enough.  Followed your trail here… couldn’t go on.  Was… was waiting here, hoping you’d… ret… retur…”  The man slumped forward, his strength expended.  Smith caught him and laid him on the ground gently. 

“He’s alive,” he said after a few moments.  “In a bad way though.  He needs help.”  He took out his pack and administered a blue patch to the head wound.  Looking up he addressed one of his men.  “Take him back, get him looked at.”

“Leave him!” said Smur dismissively.  “We’ve more important things to do.”

Smith frowned at him.  “He’s a person, someone who needs help, just like you and your daughter.” 

Smur opened his mouth, but then closed it again with a snap.  He watched, fretting as the man slung Mestro onto his shoulders and headed back the way they had come.

Smith turned to Smur.  “Right then.  Where are we going?”

“You heard the man.  They took the others.  He can only mean my old tribe.  The necromancer, the captain is with them.”  He spoke steadily.  Of course the necromancer wasn’t with Draggon and his daughter, but they didn’t know that, and here was a chance to do some damage!  Maybe even be able to resume his rightful position as leader of the tribe again! 

“Very well,” Smith replied.  “We’ll have to go and see about getting him back then.”

“This way,” said Smur.  He took off at a brisk walk.  The black devils followed him as he made his way confidently through the streets.  He even walked past his old hole, though he was careful not to look at it and alert the others to his hiding place. 

“I take it your tribe won’t be too friendly?” said Smith as they made their way along a debris strewn street.

“Rendolf is a traitorous butcher, he’ll try and take your suits and weapons.  He won’t talk, at least truthfully, I know him.  If we attack suddenly though, we might be able to take them by surprise.  If I can kill Rendolf, we have a chance.”

Smith didn’t look too happy, but nodded.

When he started to get closer to his old tribes’ campsite Smur slowed down, becoming a little more cautious.  He didn’t want to alert the sentries.

Yet they encountered none.  As he closed on the camp’s position, Smur become anxious, then worried.  Had something happened?  Where were the men?  He hurried forward until they finally stood in front of the campsite.

“By the Taint!” whispered Smur, his mouth agape. 

The camp had been decimated.  Bodies lay scattered around, as if they were toys carelessly discarded by a child.  Tents hung empty, their entrances dark, silent holes that reeked of death.

Smur wailed, and ran forward, panting hard as he peered into first one tent, then another, frantically searching for Alice.  The devils followed him more slowly, and when they finally caught up with him, he was standing in the center of the camp, surrounded by the dead, a look of anguish on his face. 

“I can’t find her!” he cried.  “Rendolf, some others and that fat slug, the Bis’p, are missing too.”

Smith looked around.  “They’ve been attacked, but I don’t know by what.  Nothing human killed these people.”

Smur turned to him.  “We have to find the survivors.”

“Agreed,” replied the devil.  “But where to start?”

Smur turned around, doing a complete circle as he thought and took in the scene. 

The wind howled through the camp, tussling the ragged hair of the dead like a ghost angry at the intrusion of the living.  The dark clouds scudded above them, rumbling ominously, and lighting briefly flashed on the horizon, lighting up the sky. 

In the distance Smur thought he could hear faint laughter, and he shivered as a dark aura seemed to reach out for him.  ‘I’m coming,’ it seemed to say.  ‘I’m coming for you.  Soon…’

[Angel]

The plot thickens! I'm interested to see how smur is now he's healing and stronger.

[ViP Perry Tratchett]

Caught up with this yesterday, though didn't get time to comment.  The good work continues.

[Chinaren]

Thanks chaps, I'll post more later.

[Chinaren]

Chapter 8 - Earth and Stone

“So, now what?”  Smith said, breaking Smur out of his bleak reverie. 

“I… I’m not sure.  Let me think a moment.”  Smur tried to organize his thoughts. 

“You’d better think fast,” Smith growled.  “I don’t know what did this,” he gestured at the remains, “but I don’t want to be here if it comes back.”

What had happened?  Smur couldn’t see any animal signs, and the bodies had no bite wounds on them.  In fact, he checked again, scanning the corpse of a nearby woman without touching it, there were no signs at all of the cause of death, unless you counted the look of terror on the victims’ face. 

“What killed them?” he asked.

Smith shrugged.  “No idea, but I’ve seen enough horror on this world to not want to know.  What I do want to do is get off this doomed planet.”

Smur thought that sounded like a good idea.  The thought that there were worlds out there without the devastation of this one, where people could walk about without fear of Shades or other foul things sucking out their souls sounded like paradise to him. 

A thought struck him.  When he was still leader of the tribe there had been talk of creating a safe haven where, should a disaster occur, the survivors could flee to and regroup.  Rendolf and his fat ally, the Bis’p, had suggested setting up this site in the Petrified Forest, reasoning it was a perfect place to store supplies with no fear of them being disturbed.  Of course the rest of the council, Smur included, had vetoed the idea.  The reason no one went there was because the Spirit, and that was worse than any Shade or creature.  Still, once Rendolf had taken over, he might just have followed up on the idea.

Turning to Smith, Smur raised a finger.  “I think I know where they may have gone, but it’s not a safe area.”

“Where is in this god forsaken place?”  Smith spat.

“Is it far?” one of the guards asked. 

“Yes and no,” Smur said.  “If you don’t wish to go there, it’s as far as the horizon.  If you’re looking for it, it will be close.”

“What are you talking about?”  Smith asked, frowning.

“The Forest of Stone.”

“Where?”  Smith scratched his head.  “Never heard of it.”

“It’s a place of doom and sacred ground both,” Smur explained.  “They say if you go there you can commune with the earth itself, though the price is insanity, as often as not.”

“Superstitious nonsense,” the same guard muttered.  He hefted his extra large Firestick.  “I’ll blast anything that comes near me to pieces.”

“You can’t harm Shades with that,” Smur replied. 

“Shades keep away from us,” the man replied, smugly.

“There are worse things out there,” Smur said, but to himself.  Let the devil find out the hard way, he could sacrifice himself whilst Smur escaped.

“Enough,” snapped Smith.  “Let’s head towards this forest then.”  He gestured at Smur.  “Lead on.” 

With a last look around his old, devastated, home, Smur nodded and then looked up.

“What are you doing?” the unfriendly guard said.

“Stow it Wills,” Smith ordered. 

Smur ignored them and set off in the direction that the sky was brightest.  “Follow the light,” he said.  “And open your mind.” 

“What?”  Smith was beginning to look annoyed.

“It’s an old rhyme,” said Smur.  “A guide to get to the Forest.”

“Whatever, as long as you get us there.”  Smith shrugged and lapsed into silence.

They trudged over the barren landscape, away from the city and over smashed and ruined ground covered with patchy ghost-grass.  The yellowing knee high fronds blew about in the wind, searching for wandering spirits to feed on, so the stories went. 

Overhead the clouds built up, and the light dimmed.  A Shade popped into existence over them at one point, but, like the one back near the Devils’ camp, didn’t approach.  The guard, Wills Smith had called him, shot at it with a handheld firestick, drawing a rebuke from Smith.

Slowly a misty white haze descended about them, and the guards drew closer together, casting nervous glances around.  Smith nudged Smur.

“This fog isn’t encouraging,” he said.

“On the contrary, it means we’re getting close.”  Smur gestured at a tree stump that suddenly appeared out of the gloom ahead of them.

The Devils looked.  It was pure white.  When they got closer, it became obvious that it was stone, smooth and cold to the touch.

“It’s petrified,” said another guard. 

“There’s more to come,” Smur said.  He scratched his scalp, which was itching like mad.  Smith had said that it was the Blue medicine working, but Smur thought it was more than that.  Here, near the Forest, it felt like something was tickling his brain.

“It’s a creepy place,” said the second guard.  “And that’s saying something for this planet.”

“Come on, enough dithering,” Smith said.  “It’s getting dark, and the Shades will be out soon.  I don’t like being exposed like this, even if we do scare them.”

“There will be no Shades here,” Smur said. 

“Well, that’s one piece of good news anyway,” Smith replied.

Smur spotted something and knelt down. 

“What is it?”  Wills said.

“Someone’s passed here recently.”  He pointed at a soft patch of ground.  “We’re on the right track.”

“So let’s not hang about then,” Smith commanded.  “Forward!”

They moved off again, into the mist.  In another minute large pale shapes came into view, rising up into the murk, towering above them like silent, giant guardians. 

“Trees, all stone,” one of the devils said as the group twisted their heads, gawking like children at the massive edifices. 

“What caused this?”  Smith asked as they moved on through the petrified forest, walking as quietly as possible, like intruders in a graveyard. 

Smur shrugged.  He was having difficulty concentrating.  The itch in his head was getting worse.  “It’s said that the Spirit of the Earth resides here,” he said.  “It was awakened by the Punisher, and it’s angry at it.  You’d better tread carefully; it has no reason to love your kind.”

“Superstitious rubbish,” growled Wills. 

Still, Smur noticed the devils moved carefully through the frozen trees, and often cast nervous glances about. 

The silence was overwhelming, stifling, and it covered them like a blanket.  Thus they all heard the noise, small as it was, when it came.  It sounded like someone kicking a stone a small distance away.

Immediately Smith signaled his men using hand gestures.  The devils nodded, and slipped away, stealthy as ghosts, weapons at the ready.

“Stay still,” Smith hissed at Smur.  “We’ll deal with this.”  He nodded at the one remaining guard, who nodded in return, before he too slipped away.  The last man gripped his firestick tightly and stood with his back to one of the giant white trunks.

[ViP Perry Tratchett]

Another good 'un China.  Waiting for more.

[Angel]

I really love the way you've created this world china. It's very interesting. Awaiting eagerly.

[Chinaren]

Thanks all.  We're actually not too far away from where I'm currently stopped, so only another chapter and we'll be caught up and I'll be taking Suggestions.

In the meantime, here's the second part of chapter 8...


“Give me a gun!” Smur said to the guard.

“No.  Be quiet,” the guard responded. 

Smur scowled, he didn’t like being unarmed.  If Rendolf was around, he’d have to go very carefully.

The sound of approaching feet made them start, but it was just Smith and the others.

“Nothing.  Someone may have been there, but we couldn’t find them,” the devil leader said.  “Let’s move.  Keep alert.”

They set off once again, moving as quietly as possible, weapons held at the ready.   

They walked on through the strange trees, their footsteps crunching slightly on the occasional strange, white colored, semi-crystallized grass that started appearing in low clumps underfoot.  After an endless time a massive shape appeared out of the mist ahead of them. 

They stopped at the base of another tree, as frozen and white as the rest of them, but far, far larger.  Smur immediately cast his glance not up, but down.  Sure enough he soon spotted some faint tracks.       

“They went left,” he said. 

“How do you know?”  Smith replied. 

Smur pointed at the ground.  It seemed as powerful as these otherworld devils were, they were quite ignorant in the skill of tracking, relying on their equipment instead.  An overreliance, Smur thought, that was worth remembering.  Any weakness, no matter how small, could be exploited.  Sure enough Smith, after a cursory glance at the ground, nodded.

“Lead on then.  Men, be at the ready.”

Smiling to himself, Smur led them away to the left, away from the huge tree and back among the more normal sized variety. 

Soon the ground began to slope down slightly, and the mist drew around them in an even denser blanket, so that Smur had to be careful not to stray too far from the others, though they seemed to have no real trouble seeing each other.  Some other power their equipment gave them no doubt.  He filed it away for future reference.

“Listen!”  Smith hissed suddenly.

“Over there!”  Wills responded, pointing to the side.

“Sounds like a bunch of them,” another guard said.

Frowning, Smur cocked his head.  He could hear nothing.  He said nothing though, as Smith, making those hand gestures of his, signaled to his men, who slipped away into the murk.  With a final gesture at Smur, no doubt meant to say ‘stay there and shut up’ Smith also scuttled off into the trees, quickly disappearing from view.

Smur was left alone.  He took a deep breath and backed against a tree with only his thoughts to keep him company.  He wondered about Alice, wondered if she was still alive.  Probably, he thought.  If only because Rendolf would see her as a valuable hostage against Smur, should it come to that.  Plus she was healthy, suitable for breeding when she came of age.  He tightened his fist at the thought.  His betrayer had a lot to answer for!  Smur swore to himself, for the millionth time, that he would see justice done.

A sound interrupted his reverie, and he looked left, to see Smith and his men return.   

“Nothing,” the man said, scowling.  “This fog plays tricks on the mind.  Did you see anything?”

Smur shook his head.  “No.”

“Well, let’s keep going then.”

Squatting down, Smur scanned the ground again.  “This way I think.”  He pointed.

Smith snarled and jabbed a finger at him.  “You better not be trying to trick us twisted man!  The body of one of my people lays cold back at the ship.  His spirit cries out for justice.”

“Just follow me,” said Smur.  “I’ll get your Captain back, never fear.  We’re on the same team now remember?  What’s past is past.”

Smith looked at him through narrowed eyes for a few moments more, but then nodded.  “Go then.”

Sighing with relief, Smur led them uphill towards the giant tree, following Rendolfs’ tracks carefully. 

“There’s about ten of them I think,” he whispered to Smith, after a while.  “Tell your men to be…”

“Drop your weapons!”  A familiar voice interrupted him, and the devils swung round, searching back and forth, seeking out a target. 

A figure emerged from the mist.  Smur snarled.  Rendolf!

“Well Smur, you seem to be very difficult to kill indeed,” the chief of the tribe said calmly.  “Still, I’m willing to try harder.”  He turned to Smith, who was standing still, firestick in hand.  “Tell your men to lower their weapons.  We have you in our sights.”

“We mean you no harm,” the devil leader replied.  “All we want is the captain, the necromancer I mean.”

“You mean the twisted crazy man?”  Rendolf raised an eyebrow. 

“He has some information we want,” Smith said. 

“Very interesting.”  Rendolf tapped his chin.

“Don’t trust him!”  Smur said.  “He’ll betray you!  He probably doesn’t even have the captain!”

“Oh, but we do have him,” Rendolf gloated.  “We caught him hobbling through the city, before…” he stopped short.

“Before something wiped out the tribe!  My tribe!”  Smur snarled, fists clenching.

“You were overthrown.  So it goes, the weak are cast aside to make way for the strong,” Rendolf quoted from the Holy book.

“Drugging me and throwing me outside is strength is it?  You and that fat toad betrayed me, betrayed me with poison, a woman’s tool!  It’s you who are weak.”

Rendolf took a deep breath, controlling his temper visibly.  He addressed Smith again.  “I tell you what devil,” he said.  “How about an exchange?  Your necromancer for this… thing.  How about it?”

Smith frowned.  “What would you do with him?”

“It’s time he was put to rest.  He’s half dead already anyway.”

“We don’t believe in needless killing.  I don’t…”
 
“Do you want your necromancer or not?  If you fight you may kill my men, or maybe we’ll kill you, but I guarantee the necromancer will be dead when you find him.  If you fight.”

Smith’s eyes narrowed.  Smur could see he was considering the proposal.  He cast about wildly, thinking hard, and then he felt it.  Something on the edge of his senses, tickling his mind.  What was it? 

“Come on.  What’s to think about?”  Rendolf was saying.  “One twisted cripple for another…”

Smur tried to ignore him and attempted to concentrate on what had flickered across his mental vision before.  There it was!  He frowned as Rendolf and Smith argued about his fate.  It was some kind of presence.  There were rumors of people communicating with sprits of the forest here, could that be it?  He’d been experiencing some strange things since he’d been hooked up to the suit.  Yet how could it help him? 

He glanced up.  Wills was watching him closely.  He scowled at Smur and fondled his large firestick.  Smur scowled back, the devil would cut him down without a thought if he ran for it.

It had to be the presence then.  Maybe he could communicate with it somehow, or at least make himself known to it.  Ignoring the rising argument between the devils and his old tribe, he took a deep breath and held it. Only to let it out again a moment later.  How did this work?

It had to be mental.  He took another breath and closed his eyes, trying to ‘feel’ with his mind.  There it was!  Some other mind, prowling on the edge of his senses, it came across as a dark shadow, writhing about in the ether like a coil of smoke.  It felt powerful and evil, and Smur suffered a moment’s doubt, which was broken by the sound of Rendolf’s voice.  He didn’t have long.

Concentrating on the thing, he called out to it on the mental plain.  The presence, whatever it was, seemed to sniff, like a Hund catching the scent of a lonesome Goap. 

DON’T!  A voice in his head rang out, causing him to wince.

It was too late though, it had found him. 

He staggered backwards as vicious and unrelenting Hate slammed into him.  What had he done?  He opened his eyes and waved his arms about, trying to catch his balance, but it was too late.  He’d done it.  He’d summoned something.  Now all he had to do was survive it. 

[ViP Perry Tratchett]

What beast has he summoned now?  Good addition China. 

Thanks all.  We're actually not too far away from where I'm currently stopped, so only another chapter and we'll be caught up and I'll be taking Suggestions.

I'd forgotten you said this wasn't finished.  How close to completion is it?

[Chinaren]

It's about one chapter away Petch, so a couple more posts.  And here's one of them...


His attention was distracted as Smith stepped over to him.

“I’m sorry,” the devil leader said.  “I have the rest of the survivors to consider.  Without the captain we have no hope of escaping.  I had no choice.”

“I don’t think it’s going to come to that,” said Smur.  The thing was closing fast.  None of the others knew yet, but to him it stood out like a raging fire on a plain of ice. 

“What do you mean?”

Smur looked around.  He felt drained, like he’d been running for many hours.  Rendolf had a smug look on his face.

“There’s no help for you now, the tribal leader said before turning to face Smith.  “Hand him over then.”

“Not until we see the captain,” the devil replied.

Smur felt a tremor in the air.  He shivered. 

“It’s coming,” he said. 

“What’s coming?”  Smith asked, frowning.   

“Ignore him.”  Rendolf waved a hand.  “He’s trying to distract us.”

Smur looked at Wills.  “Now you’ll get the chance to use your gun, though it won’t do you much good.”

The devil looked at him and shifted uneasily.  “What’s he talking about?” he asked Smith.

“Noth…”  Smith stopped and cocked his head to one side.  “Did you hear that?”

“There’s nothing there!”  Rendolf snarled, losing his temper.  “Look, do you want your man or not?”

“Boss.”  One of his men nudged him.  “There’s…”

“What?  Not you too?”  The chief of the tribe swung at him, knocking his hand away.  “Get Smur!”

His command went unheeded.  Now it was audible to all of them.  A steady, moaning wail that echoed through the forest.

“By the Taint!” breathed one of the tribal guards.  “What’s that?”  He swung his gun around, trying to locate the source of the sound.  Others did the same as the howl grew in strength.  Now a cold breeze sprung up, though it didn’t stir the fog.  It cut through the men on a level other than the physical, chilling them to their core.

YOU FOOL!

The voice echoed around inside Smur’s head again, causing him to wince in shock.

YOU HAVE SUMMONED THE HOLLOW.  RUN.  RUN MAN.  NO MORTAL CAN STAND AGAINST THIS FOR LONG.  YOU MUST RUN.

Smur backed slowly away, taking advantage of the distraction of the others.  Before he disappeared into the mist, he caught Rendolf’s eye and smiled.  “Say hello to the Hollow for me,” he said, and then dived into the murk, dodging the bolt of fire that Rendolf sent in his direction. 

For a moment the chief’s scream of rage rose over the Hollow’s howl, and then both were drowned out by shouting and weapons exchange as the devils and tribesmen opened fire, mistaking Rendolf’s shot for treachery.

Ducking a stray bolt, Smur staggering into the forest, trying to get his bearings.  The cry of the Hollow was growing louder by the second, and it reverberated though his mind as well as his body, the psychic energy smashing into him with an almost tangible force.

The sounds of weapon discharges intensified behind him, the sharp cracks of firesticks interspersed with the dull whoosh of the devils fireballs.  An occasional louder explosion marked the use of Will’s larger weapon.  The occasional scream marked a hit.

Smur staggered away, scanning the surroundings for any clues as to the whereabouts of Rendolf’s camp.  He knew Rendolf wouldn’t be far from it.  There!  Smur spotted a mark on the ground and knelt down to further examine it.  The signs were recent, maybe a dozen men, headed off in the direction of the fighting.   

Standing up, Smur started to follow the trail, walking the other way.  A few moments later a howl echoes through the trees, making him shudder.  The Hollow had found the fighters. 

The shrieks and screams redoubled, as did the weapons fire.  The Hollow replied with a cry of its own and something flew through the air to land off to one side of Smur with a dull splat.  It was a leg, covered in blood and torn off at the thigh.  The bone protruded obscenely glistening wetly.  The skin had been flayed off in some unknown manner.  Smur picked up his pace, panting as he half jogged through the stone forest.  The screams and shouts faded behind him slightly, becoming blurred together as the fog muffled them.

Caution cut in, and he slowed, Rendolf would likely have left someone behind on guard, no point escaping the Hollow only to be killed by a tribesman.  Stopping, Smur scanned the ground around him.  After a few moments he bent down and, grunting, pulled a stone branch out from its resting place in the hard ground.  Grasping it firmly, he tried an experimental swing. 

It would do, if he could get close enough to use it.

Fretting about the fight behind him, Smur had to force himself to move slowly through the murk.  His patience paid off a few minutes later.  Sounds from ahead and slightly to the left.  Talking.  One of the voices was Alice’s, he was certain! 

He slid through the fog, following the noises, ever alert and thus saw a shape moving towards him before he was seen in turn.  He slid behind a tree, holding still. 

The shape, a man, moved silently through the fog.  Smur expected nothing less from one of the hunters of the tribe.  Still, he was also a hunter.  A great one.  Waiting until the man had passed his position, Smur stepped out and smashed his stone branch over the others’ head from behind, putting all his strength into the attack. 

There was a dull sound, like a pot full of earth breaking, and the sentry slumped to the floor.  Smur wasn’t fast enough to catch him, but the sparse vegetation and muffling qualities of the mist helped to conceal the thump as the corpse hit. 

He knelt down and searched the body, hoping for a firestick.  He was disappointed.  The guard had a long dagger and a staff, no firearm. 

Cursing under his breath, Smur took the weapons from the dead man and armed himself.  After another quick examination of the corpse, which revealed nothing of interest, he stood up and stepped back into the concealment of the fog, waiting for the other guard to show himself.  There were always two.

Time passed, and Smur became increasingly anxious.  He couldn’t hear any sounds of fighting any more, though whether that was because he was too far away or something else, he didn’t know.

Damn it!  Was there another guard or not?  There could be several in the camp.  He thought about trying a distraction, but he wasn’t sure that would work.  The hunters chosen for guards by Rendolf wouldn’t be stupid.  Viscous cunning killers yes, stupid no.   

A howl cut through the fog, and Smur shook his head.  He had to act now, before the Hollow or Rendolf caught up.

He looked around, trying to find something he could use to his advantage.  Nearby was a tree that was shorter and fatter than most of the others, with lower branches.  Smur crept over to it and, with a final glance to make sure no one was near, hauled himself painfully up onto one of the lower ones. 

The stone felt cold, clammy and slippery under his hands, and sent a chill through him.  He ignored it, and reached for the next one up. 

If he hadn’t been wearing the black devil suit, he’d have never have managed the task, and even with it, it was a struggle, but he managed to climb up to just over a man height, panting and trembling all the while.  He edged his way along one of the thicker branches, shivering at the contact, and allowed himself a moment to rest before raising his head again, readying himself for his next move.

Smur wasn’t sure if this would work, he really didn’t know the extent of his newly discovered psychic powers, but he figured if he could call forth the Hollow, then the same trick might work for a more mundane target.

Closing his eyes and trying to put his discomfort out of his mind, he focused in the direction of the camp. 

Again, at first, there was nothing, but then, slowly, he began to ‘feel’ things.  Movement, life forms.  There were about a dozen that he could make out.  Four of them felt ‘dark’ to his senses, guards he assumed, but one blazed with light.  Alice!  It could only be her.  Another was threaded with a strange, twisted blue.  That had to be the Necromancer.

Concentrating on one of the dark forms, he tried to instill a sense of panic into his thoughts, not a hard task considering. 

‘Quick!  Come!  Help!’

It was only a short burst, but even with that small effort Smur could feel the energy drain out of him.  He stopped abruptly, scared to carry on in case he exhausted himself.  If it wasn’t enough…

A noise from ahead reassured him.  Someone was approaching through the mist, carelessly, at a run. 

He waited patiently until a figure emerged from the gloom.  A hunter, and he was carrying a firestick! 

Tensing, Smur prepared himself for the attack, gripping the knife he’d captured from the other guard.  Waiting until the tribesman was underneath, he fell on him, landing with a breath-stealing thump on top of his target, crushing him into the ground.

Before the guard could act, the knife was at his neck.  One quick slice, and the deed was done.  Blood spurted out onto the cold, uncaring floor, and another of Smurs’ enemies had been removed.  The death was too fast, too painless, but it still brought some slight satisfaction. 

[Angel]

Oh, excellent! Enjoyed that one very much.

[Chinaren]

Last part of chapter 8 then...


No time to relish the feeling now though!  There was more work to be done.  Grabbing the firestick, he checked it over.  The charge was low, but it would do for a few shots at least.  He hoped it would be enough.  When he had more time he could try to recharge it with the Blue from his pack.

Standing up he readied himself.  “It’s my time,” he said to the air in general, and then ran forward, snarling, allowing his hate to fuel him, give him strength.  Another piercing scream echoed around the woods.  The Hollow again.  This one was a cry of triumph. It had vanquished its enemies.  Smur briefly wondered if Rendolf had survived, the traitorous vermin had a knack for it.
     
Then he burst into the camp.  A hunter was standing straight ahead of him, a spear in one hand.  Smur shot him before he could move, the impact taking the man and throwing him backwards with a dull explosion. 

A movement to his left!  Smur swung around to see two more hunters approaching.  He shot again, and the energy took the leg off one.  The guard fell to the floor, screaming and holding the stump as blood spurted, spraying the ground, coating the grass red. 

Smur fired once more, but the other guard dodged, and the shot went wide.  Before he could act again, the hunter was on him, and it was all he could do to avoid the swing of the fighters’ knife.  Even as he staggered backwards, the blade sliced his arm, creating a white line of pain and making him drop the gun. 

The hunter backtracked slightly, awaiting a counter attack that didn’t come.  He grinned as Smur drew his knife.  “Welcome back… chief,” the man said, pouring scorn onto the title.

Smur recognized him now.  Farnk his name was.  A brute of a man, burly and wide of shoulder, he was one of Rendolf’s favorites.  Farnk reveled in cruelty, nothing unusual there of course, but he was a capable warrior, well able to look after himself.  Smur’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated the fight ahead.  In his prime he would have had a chance, maybe a good chance, but he was far from that now.  He needed to use all his guile and cunning to survive this.

“Say your final words traitor,” Smur spat back.
   
“No traitor I,” Farnk said.  The two men circled each other warily, each alert, waiting for chance to strike.  “Rather you, dressed in the garb of the servants of the Destroyer, oh yes, we know.  At least Rendolf does, and he told me.”

“Taint take you!”  Smur answered, and lunged.   

There was a flash of metal in the air, Farnk was fast, too fast.  He blocked Smurs’ attack and countered with one of his own, which only narrowly missed. 

The two fell apart again, Smur panting heavily.  He could feel the strength draining out of him.  The Blue was running out. 

“What’s up chief?” Farnk said, grinning, sensing his weakness.  “Old age getting the better of you?  Let me take care of that.”  He attacked, ducking low to avoid Smurs’ defensive swing, and plunged the knife forward.  Smur dodged to one side, and so the knife took him in the thigh rather than the stomach. 

 Smur fell backwards, falling to the floor to escape Farnks clutches, an act that pulled the knife from his leg in a fresh wave of pain.  He clutched at his wound, and tried to get a fresh grip on his dagger as the big hunter smiled and stepped forward slowly, confident of his victory. 

Smur threw the knife. 

Farnk skipped to one side, expecting the attack and avoiding it.

“Is that the best you have?” he sneered.  “The great Smur?  Glorious chief of the tribe?  Fiercest warrior?  Most cunning hunter?  You don’t look so great now.  It’s time to end your rule old man.”

He stepped forward, knife ready.  Smur winced.

There was a sharp crack, followed in short order by a sickly thud.  He opened his eyes again, to see Farnk staring at his stomach, which had a large crater in it.  As he watched, his intestines slipped through the hole and onto the floor with a wet sound. 

His face frozen in an expression of shocked surprise, Farnk went down. 

“Daddy!  Are you all right?”  Smur looked about, to see Alice standing behind him, the firestick he’d dropped looked large in her small hands. 

“Did you do that?” he asked.

“He was going to kill you,” she replied sternly.  “You might be a bad man, but you are my daddy.” 

Smurs’ eyes filled with tears.  This was his daughter!

A howl brought him back to his senses.  The Hollow!

“Quickly!” he said, standing up with some difficulty, “we have to get out of here.  Is Draggon with you?  And the necromancer?”

“They’re tied up back there,” Alice said. 

Holding his leg, Smur staggered over and retrieved the firestick from his daughter, who backed away as soon as he had it.  He hobbled into the mist, to see Draggon and the necromancer, both tied to a tree, back to back. 

“Untie me!” Draggon demanded as soon as she saw him.

“Nice to see you too,” Smur said.  “Are there any others?”

“A couple of villagers and some fat toad being carried by a dozen young boys,” Draggon said.  “But they ran off when the howling started.”

“The Bis’p,” Smur scowled, untying the captives with some difficulty.

“What is that howling?” Draggon asked as he loosed her bonds. 

“The Hollow.”  The necromancers spoke for the first time.  Smur noticed he looked pale and listless.

“Where is it?  Where’s the key?” Smur asked of him.  “You have it don’t you?”

The necromancer looked at him strangely for a moment. “You!  You’re one of them!  You’re a black devil!  Get away from me!!”

“No!!  No, it’s me, Smur,” Smur said, wincing as another howl from the Hollow rolled over them.  “I infiltrated them!  Tricked them!”

“Ah, cunning, you are cunning indeed.”  The necromancer sagged again.

“Come on!  We need to get out of here!”  Smur tugged at the restraints.

“It’s no good,” the necromancer said.  “I’m done for.  Too old, too weary.  Leave me, leave me here.”

“No!  We need you.  Where’s the Key?  Where did you put it?”

Another wail cut off the reply, slicing through Smur like a cold wind.  The necromancer felt it too.  “It’s close now,” the melted man said.  “Leave me, save yourself, I care no longer.”

“Where?  Where is it?” Smur asked again, tearing at the bonds that held the man, trying to get him loose.

Another howl, closer now, much closer.   

“Daddy!  It’s coming!”  Alice held on to Draggon, hugging her tightly.

Smur finally came to his senses and cut the bonds with his dagger, allowing the necromancer to stand free.  He looked about, as if he didn’t know where he was.

“Come on, let’s get out of here!” Smur said.

The four ran, with Smur doing his best to keep up.  The blood loss was beginning to tell though, and he began to fall behind the others. 

“W… wait,” he gasped. 

The necromancer stopped and walked back to him, hooking his arm around Smur’s shoulders, he helped his fellow cripple to move though the gloom, away from the low, chilling moans of the Hollow that infiltrated the mist.

“Where are we going?”  Draggon said, after interminable moments of desperate, gasping running through the gray of the silent forest.  The howls had faded somewhat, and it seemed they were leaving the mysterious creature behind.

“We need to get the Key,” Smur said. 

“The Key is lost,” said the necromancer.  “Lost.”

“It can’t be!”  Smur said. 

“What key?  What are you talking about?” Draggon asked. 

“It’s the way off this planet,” Smur said.  “The way to Blue Skies!”

“Maybe so, if you can fight through the devils,” the necromancer said.  “It’s useless though.”
 
“Listen, I can trick them again,” Smur said.  “We can do this.”

“Blue Skies?” asked Draggon, as if just catching up.  Smur ignored her.

“Where’s the Key?”

“Lost, lost,” the necromancer said.

“Where?”

“The Shades have it,” the man looked at him. “They snatched it from me when they did this.”  He indicated his deformities.  “It’s on the Other side.  Lost.”

[ViP Perry Tratchett]

Caught up, and waiting for more!

[Angel]

The plot thickens!

[Chinaren]

Chapter 9 - The Other Side.

“The Shades?  How can they have it?”  Smur gaped in dismay, his hopes for escape plummeting.

“They took it, or a Collector did anyway,” said the necromancer, sitting down on a tree stump.

“A Collector?” Draggon frowned.

“Yes, they are another of the Beasts’ creatures.  If the Shades are His foot soldiers, the Collectors are corporals, a step up if you like.  Their job is to snatch things from the world and take them back to the Other side.  Foul beasts.”

“Why would they take the key though?” asked Dragoon.

The necromancer shrugged, a one sided gesture with his damaged arm.

“The Collectors take things back?  Including people?” Smur asked.

“Of course, that is their primary purpose, to recover certain special souls to power Its attempt to break through.”

“Like Alice!” Smur said, “When they took her before.”

Alice frowned.  “They never took me!”

“Not this time,” Smur said. “I stopped them. Still, it means we have a way in!”

“What?  What are you talking about?” Draggon asked.  Then her eyes went wide. “You can’t be serious?  You want to get captured so they can take you over?”

“Can you think of another way?” Smur demanded.

The necromancer shook his head.  “They’ll kill you,” he said.

“No, we can control them remember?” Smur indicated his suit, and the Blue within.

“Collectors are more powerful that Shades,” the melted man said.  “It would take both of us, and we’d need more Blue.”

“Well, we might be in luck there,” Smur said, looking back the way they’d come.  “I think I know where to get some.”

>

“They’re long gone, it’s all clear.” Smur peered around the tree the others were hiding behind.

“Are you sure?” Draggon asked.  “What about that… thing?”

“Plenty of evidence of its passing, none of it though,” Smur replied as the group crept forward, back to the scene of the three way battle.

They had waited for several hours, hunkering down and hiding in the stone woods, making sure that any survivors had fled to a safer area. Draggon and the necromancer had worked on Smur’s wounds, binding them with cloth torn from their clothes.  His thigh felt better already, the Blue helping to heal the injury at an accelerated rate.

The Hollow had raged thought the trees for a while, its terrifying howls echoing through the forest, but had finally moved off, passing perilously close to their hiding place.  Smur thought he saw the flash of something brown and yellow flitting through the air at head height, but he only had a split seconds’ glance before it vanished into the fog.

The way clear at last, they had returned to the scene of the fight between the devils, the tribe and the Hollow.  It was easy to see who the winner had been.  Flayed limbs and body parts were scattered around a wide area.  Whatever the Hollow was, it was fearsomely efficient at killing.  All it had left behind were strange smooth tracks, like a gigantic snake might do. 

Smur shook his head as he circled around an arm which had been torn off at the shoulder. Like the other remains, it had been efficiently stripped of skin and any outer garments. 

“There might not be as much Blue remaining as I thought,” he said.

“Here’s one,” said Draggon, pointing to the body of a black devil sprawled against a tree.  He’d been stabbed by a spear through his middle.

Smur stepped forward, but then hesitated.  A lifetime of avoiding the dead was not something you got over in a few minutes.  Instinctively he glanced up and about, looking for hovering Shades that would pounce in furious revenge for desecrating a body.

“They won’t come near the Blue, even if they did frequent these woods,” the necromancer pointed out.  “Have you seen a Shade since you entered here?”

“You’re right,” Smur said.  Still, it wasn’t without some trepidation that he squatted down and unclasped the black suit, opening it to gain access to the small container of Blue that was in the special inside pocket near the waist.

He stood up and stepped away quickly, heart beating fast.  “Got it,” he said.

“There’s another here,” said Alice, standing a little way away.  She made a face.  “He doesn’t have a head.”

They searched the area as quietly as they could for some time, but only managed to retrieve three bags of Blue.  Smee did recover another firestick though, and a new knife, both of which he secured about his person.  They also recovered some supplies that both devils and tribesmen had dropped.

“Do we have enough?” he asked the necromancer as they sat in a small makeshift camp.  Even though it was dark they hadn’t dared light a fire.  Neither Smith nor Rendolf’s body had been found, though they could have been one of the un-identifiable skinless corpses of course.

“It will do,” the melted man replied.  “It will have to.”

“Shall we start now?”  Smur looked at the bags doubtfully.

“No.  Let’s rest.  I’m tired.  We’ll do it at daybreak, on the edge of this forest.  If we do it at night we’ll likely attract too many of them, and we’ll not be able to handle more than one Collector.”

“We’ll stay here for a few hours then,” Smur said.  “Leave in the middle of the night.  This place is hidden well enough.”  They were in an area thick with the white trees, which provided some cover. He settled down on the cold floor near Alice.  His daughter was already asleep, cuddled up to Draggon. 

He gazed at her small body for some time, longing, wishing he could hold her in his arms.  Still, even having her close was an improvement. He fell asleep happier than he’d been in some time, despite the danger ahead.



The next part of this to be posted will be the 'current' place for this story, and I'll be taking this Interactive, so watch this space!

[Angel]

I look forward to seeing this go interactive.

[Chinaren]

I'll post the first Interactive very soon Angey.