Kingdom of Loradel, Village of Hansel, Present day.
The howl of the damned echoed throughout the village like a grim thunderclap.
"Go! Go! Keep these things away from the wounded!" shouted Waden.
Roy smiled as they moved towards the front of the alchemy shop. That old farmer has some fire in him for his age. Roy knocked an arrow as the sweat of his brow was washed over by the never-ending rain. The cold stung like needles against his soaked body.
Waden folded his drenched fleece-like hair back as he stood firmly in place with a rusted blade at the ready. It was quite the admirable sight, seeing the man of sixty rise against the negativities of age alongside the horrors of the night. "We need to draw these things away from Sathama's shop." His eyes darted about, on guard for any more of the things that had come as if from nowhere.
Roy followed the man's gaze as he glanced over the darkness outside of their torchlight, waiting for his callout on one of the beasts. Though it wasn't much needed considering they had glowing orbs of light in their empty sockets. He hadn't seen anything of the like before. Monsters that looked like men in almost every way, the only notable difference was their honed teeth and rotted skin. The word demon came to mind often.
Waden pointed across the fog of the night towards a distant flamelight that was threatened to be extinguished by the ongoing rain. "Look there, more people. We need to get them to the town hall as soon as—" The man was brought to the ground by a sudden demon that leapt from the rooftops, causing his torch to fall into the pooling water at his feet.
Roy's heart beat just as it did before a shot. He aimed for the space between the glowing eyes. You're done, lad. He fired and was gifted with the whistle of the arrow that he had grown so found of throughout the years followed by sound of the monster's skull fracturing.
Waden pushed the lifeless corpse aside, blood that had tainted his face washed away within seconds by rain. "Good shot, boy."
"I aim to please," retorted Roy, as he helped the man up.
"Don't know how you can wear a smile in a time like this."
"A smile keeps a man going, fear won't help now." Roy quickly readied another arrow. "Daybreak can't be far off. We just need to hold off until then." He looked towards the two figures under the distant torchlight. "This way! Get to the hall!"
Waden kicked the corpse at his feet. "There's too many of these things, we don't have the numbers."
The nearing duo was revealed to be one of Sathama's apprentices, a golden-haired girl, Eleanor. Leaning against her was the stableman, Pathos, whose long hair resembled soaked hay in the darkness. "Roy!? Its you! Thank the goddess—he's hurt."
A growl came from the outside their light at their flank as a single red eye drew closer.
Roy aimed for the demon. "Quickly, get him inside with the others—Anaria can help tend to him. Go now!" His voice cracked as he let the arrow fly, it dug into the perusing demon's neck, sending it to the ground and causing it to spasm unnaturally through the mud.
Waden took no second for granted as he drove his sword through its chest. He freed the girl of her torch before waving her off. "You heard him, get to Sathama's." He panted loudly as he joined Roy's side. "This rain's fucking us raw. This torch won't hold, won't be able to defend ourselves if we can't see a damn thing."
Roy ran though recent events in his mind. "…can't see," he muttered. It hit him like a brick all of a sudden. "Of course!" he yelled triumphally. He took Waden's torch and fed it to the mire at their feet, sizzling aloud as the flame disappeared in seconds.
"The fuck's wrong with you!" yelled Waden, his face now hidden by darkness. "Now we—"
"Listen. Those things are attracted to light. Get to hall and shop and have them cut the amount of light."
"Let's suppose you're right, what are going to do?"
"A distraction, I'll draw them away."
"That's a death wish, boy."
A smile found its way on his lips once more as he shrugged. "What can I say, I like living with a side of danger." He dashed though the darkness, leaving Waden's shouts behind him. He managed to find his way through the maze of homes until he found another torchlight.
In front, opposite a group of barrels was a trio of Zuland soldiers fending off waves of the demons.
Roy caught sight of one between the many cabins.
It jerked unnaturally over to its prey, an unsuspecting Zuland knight.
His muscles strained but for a second as he found his mark with his bow. "Kiss it farewell."
The demon collapsed at the man's feet with an arrow halfway into its skull.
"You can repay me later," said Roy. "Get to the town hall, make sure to cut your light before, les you get tracked through the dark."
The man simply gave a nod.
Splashes came from behind the retreating men. A group of four—no five demons neared from the flank. A nearby hanging lantern revealed bloodied, tattered clothes and bits of flesh stuck in their fingernails.
Roy's heart beat with a combination of fear and excitement. They liked fire, then he'd give them fire. The stables had countless bales of hay, the perfect kindling for an inferno. The perfect distraction. He took the lantern and swung it about after stowing his bow. "Look right here, flesh-toads."
Their bright yet lifeless eyes were now on him.
"That's right. You're hungry and I'm the most flavorful thing in this village!" He ran to the right, it was nearly pitch black, but Hansel was his home, with his years of growing up here he could race through the web of buildings blindfolded. He ran through a path just narrow enough to fit a single man before he reached the center of town, confirmed by the sight of the old fountain. He turned to make sure they hadn't lost interest.
The demons sprinted toward him; their movement was almost puppet-like which alone was enough to send a shrill down any man's spine.
Roy continued onwards. "Keep up, will you?" he teased, in efforts to boost his fading morale. The rain had made the dirt at his feet into a thick mush that slithered into his boots. Every step he felt the ground's urge to hold him in place, as if to allow the demons their feast. He reached the end of another narrow path and quickly pushed a nearby wood cart to block the passage.
The first demon pushed up against the wooden obstacle.
Roy pulled a mud-covered knife from his boot and trained it on the struggling monster before hurling it at breakneck speed.
A combination of mud and blood bounced off of the demon as the blade dug into its forehead.
With the sound of its lifeless head slamming into the cart came a layer of egotism as Roy felt his chest lighten. "Come now, which of you is next?"
The remaining demons slammed into each other in efforts to climb over their fallen brother.
Roy backed off towards a well as he readied himself for another sprint. A cold hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. Instinct took over as he turned, grabbed his assailant's head and slammed it into the stone well's edge. "Only the ladies can lay their hands on this." He grabbed the stunned demon by his ankles and let gravity take lead as it tumbled into the well. He was nearly to the stables, the soup of mud and water sloshed in his boots with every step.
"Get back, you fiends!" From between a gap in the stables stumbled a Zuland soldier. He tumbled over and fell to the ground. A layer of mud mixed with hay splashed onto his red and silver uniform.
Roy pulled out his bow and knocked an arrow.
Three demons squeezed through the gap, snarling and decorated in blood and scars.
Roy let loose the arrow.
It pierced clean through the neck of the one nearest to the soldier. The following demons tumbled over their fallen ally.
"Get up," yelled Roy. He ran over and helped the man to his feet.
"Th—Thank you," he uttered with quivering lips. The man was significantly older than himself though most of his facial features were masked by mud and grime.
Roy smirked as he stoked his embers of confidence. "Have a daughter? I'm sure she could thank me in plenty in your stead." He readied another arrow at the remaining demons that were crawling on all fours. Another group came from the path he had just followed.
"We have to run!" said the soldier. He tugged at Roy's shirt as his eyes darted from side to side.
"Aye, that we'll do. Follow behind me." He readied his next shot, trained it on the leader of the group behind him.
The demon had the features of an old woman; rotted rugged skin with patches of silver hair on its rotting skull. Its tattered green dress hung heavy with the weight of the water.
"Well, aren't you a horrid thing. Haven't seen a dress that ugly since…" His final words rested on his tongue for a moment as a dreadful revelation came to him. "…since Old-Lady Tabatha." But that was impossible. The woman died of old age a week past, buried in the village cemetery. Strong thing she was, the ones that were with her on her final day claimed the woman bore a smile to end. 'I'm finally going to meet that fucker named death,' she had said. 'Going to ask him who pissed in his soup to have made him such a sour thing.'
Tabatha's arm dangled uselessly as she limped towards him, the group followed in her footsteps.
"You're on your own, boy!" The man dashed into the veil of fog, the clanking of his boots dimming with every second.
"Wait you—" Roy stopped himself, the man was an echo now. He looked back at the demon he had killed seconds prior.
It wore a familiar leather vest with an even more recognizable blacksmith's bracelet.
Roy's throat stung as he swallowed, a combination of the cold and newborn dread. It was the son of the blacksmith, dead almost three months now. How had he not seen it sooner. These recent rotting corpses were no demons…they were the people of Hansel.