Tame the monster within, or it will be the one that tames you.
The necromancer sat upon his black throne, draped in the shadows of his own power, his long black hair cascading like a dark mantle over his shoulders. His eyes, endless voids, consumed the very light around him, empty and cold. A predatory grin twisted his lips as he gazed down at the broken mage kneeling before him—one of the most powerful to ever exist, now reduced to nothing.
The necromancer's cruel laughter reverberated through the chamber, bouncing off the cold stone walls. Before him, Livius knelt, his body trembling with exhaustion as his hands pressed against the floor for support, his strength waning with each passing moment. Water dripped from his soaked clothes and tangled hair in heavy, rhythmic drops.
His body was a tapestry of bruises and wounds, each one a reminder of the brutal assault he had endured. Yet, the physical pain paled in comparison to the torment that gnawed at his mind. His eyes were heavy, barely holding onto his resolve, as if each breath he took brought him closer to the edge of surrender. His gaze flickered toward the cold marble slabs, where motionless bodies lay in silence.
"They are not dead yet," the necromancer said, his voice dripping with amusement.
Livius swallowed, his throat dry. "What have you done to them?" he rasped, his voice hoarse with both the weight of exhaustion and the terror creeping up his spine.
"I'm draining their life force," the necromancer replied casually, as though discussing a mundane task. "It'll be over soon. But don't worry," he added, a mocking tone lacing his words, "they won't feel a thing. As my illusion fades, it will be like slipping into a peaceful sleep."
Livius' breath hitched.
The necromancer's smile widened. "Now, if you don't want to join them, hand over the regalia, Liv."
Livius' eyes flickered up, meeting the necromancer's gaze. The defiance in his look was unmistakable—there was no way he would surrender the regalia, even if it meant his own death.
The necromancer's expression darkened, his temper flaring. Without warning, he jumped up, his boot crashing into Livius' face with bone-shattering force. The impact echoed through the room as Livius' body slammed violently against the cold marble floor. He couldn't hold himself up anymore; his limbs had betrayed him, leaving him crumpled and immobile.
"Don't be so stubborn," the necromancer hissed, his voice venomous. "You know that the right of possession passes to me with your death! I didn't want to resort to this, but if you don't hand it over, I'll have no choice but to kill you."
Livius' eyes remained locked onto the necromancer, a silent vow in them. His body may have been broken, but his resolve was still intact.
I exhaled slowly, releasing the tension in my lungs. My muscles softened, but the monster inside me surged with ferocity, inching its way through my cells, its venom replacing my blood. My gums tingled, and I could feel my teeth cutting into my lips. The metallic taste of my own blood filled my mouth. My fingers twisted, long black claws tearing from their tips, eager to taste the blood of my enemy.
My consciousness began to blur—not from magic, but from the beast's relentless pull, his primal will threatening to swallow me whole. I fought to stay awake, clinging to my sanity like trying to hold water in cupped hands. It was slipping away from me, more elusive than I could bear.
Aleshio's voice cut through the fog of my mind. Remember, the only way to defeat the necromancer is to let him win first.
I gritted my teeth, trying to focus on his words. Wait for him to start the spell, to pour his magic into it. The portal will take everything he has. That's when you'll have the best chance to strike.
Wait just a little longer. Just a bit more.
I clenched my fists, trying to ignore the animal instincts clawing at my insides. But remember, only the monster can defeat him.
Just a bit more. A bit more.
The monster howled, his fury shaking my core. He tore at my mind, desperate for control. At the edges of my awareness, I could hear Livius—his groans, his silent screams. The beast stirred, his blood boiling with twisted hunger. The sound of Livius' suffering fueled the monster's hunger in the most terrible sense. It exited him—twisting its excitement into something savage.
Don't move. Not yet.
The necromancer had taken the regalia. Livius did not have the strength to protect it anymore.
The necromancer's cruel laughter echoed through the chamber, triumphant. He raised the regalia high, the dark energy swirling around him like a violent storm. "Finally," he hissed, his eyes glowing with a twisted satisfaction.
He began chanting, the words ancient and forgotten, each syllable laced with dark power. The air around us crackled, and the ground shook beneath the weight of his magic. Shadows swirled in response, drawn to his call, and the regalia pulsed with an eerie light.
Wait for it. Just a bit more.
My instincts screamed for me to strike, to tear him apart right then, but I held my ground. The necromancer's power grew with each word, and I knew Aleshio was right. This was my only chance.
The necromancer's chant reached a fever pitch, his voice vibrating with malicious intent. His eyes burned with power, and the regalia blazed with dark light.
Now!
The beast within me roared, seizing the moment. I released the fragile grip I had on my humanity and allowed the monster to surge forward.
My body felt lighter than ever, as though the very air around me had shifted. A power surged within me, wild and untamed, a force unlike anything I'd ever known. Livius' gaze slowly found me again, as if time itself had drawn to a crawl. The necromancer, however, was so engrossed in his magic that he failed to notice the change.
In an instant, I was behind him. The regalia was in my grasp, the weight of it as familiar as my own heartbeat. A thin cut appeared on my face, and as I felt it sting, I realized I had already walked into the spider's trap. But it didn't matter anymore—now, I just had to tear it apart.
The necromancer's eyes burned with fury, his voice a low hiss of disbelief. "How...?"
Before he could react, I was in front of him. A sharp, searing pain raced through me as a series of cuts marked my body. Yet I felt nothing but a single, overwhelming desire to... devour. I poured every ounce of strength into that blow, watching as the necromancer flew back, crashing to the ground.
The strain on my muscles was intense, my body unprepared for such force. A warning echoed in the back of my mind, a reminder of the cost of pushing beyond my limits—but it was distant, almost irrelevant. I could barely hear it over the roar of the beast inside me.
"Livius," I said, my voice steady despite the chaos. "You okay?"
He whimpered as he slowly lifted his head to meet my gaze. "Don't mind me..." he muttered, his voice faint. "Go..."
His words trailed off, his eyes narrowing with a flicker of something sharp.
The beast inside me howled, demanding more. It craved the thrill of the fight, the taste of blood. A grin curled onto my lips, an unsettling, predatory grin. The beast inside me howled, its hunger insatiable, its need for blood driving every thought.
I crouched down beside Livius and pressed the regalia into his hand.
"Wake the others," I told him. "I'll hold him off."
The beast inside me could feel Livius pulling out the magic stored in the regalia, growing stronger by the moment. Strong enough to stand but not strong enough to truly attract the beast's interest. I think maybe that was his luck. For the beast's eyes only saw strong opponents.
"Are you mad?" he simply asked.
"Yep," I answered with the same grin.
The primal urge to kill surged within me all of a sudden. My eyes that focused on the necromancer slowly moved to the little mage. I needed a moment to ground myself. My gaze was glued to his chest, where I could feel the pulse of magic. I had to fight the sudden, savage impulse to rip into him—tear out his heart, sink my teeth into his neck.
"That's enough," I said and stood up. "Or you'll distract me."
I lingered on Livius' face, my desire to destroy him thick in the air between us. But with effort, I tore my gaze away. I drew in a shaky breath. The scent of his blood was so sharp, so intoxicating, that it made my entire being tremble.
Turning away, I stepped toward the pile of rubble, my footsteps slow and deliberate. Pain flared as a new wound opened across my chest. I faltered for a moment, the wound searing, but by the time I noticed it, it had already started healing.
When I reached the necromancer, he was standing.
"Shay..." he said, but not in his own voice.
When I looked up, Jo stood before me. Her tear-streaked emerald eyes locked onto mine, her gaze desperate and pleading. The sweet scent of her clung to the air, intoxicating, familiar. My heart, for a fleeting moment, believed it was truly her.
"I beg you, stop..." Her voice cracked, breaking as blood spilled from her lips, trailing down her chin.
I watched her gaze fall to her chest. Without thinking, I placed my hand on her shoulder and pulled my other hand out of the wound.
"What?" The necromancer's voice, now fully his own, rang with disbelief. "But you love her! How could you attack her without a moment's hesitation?"
The accusation in his tone made my skin crawl. Precisely because I loved her.
A laugh, dark and maddening, escaped me before I could stop it. The beast inside me, instinctively aware that this was an illusion, still reveled in it. For so long, I had chained it down, kept it at bay to protect Jo... but now, with her heart in my hands—real or not—the monster savored the moment. the monster felt a deep satisfaction. It wanted to tear her apart, bathe in her blood, devour every inch of her.
This time, I didn't hold it back.
The beast reached for her, eager to sink his teeth into her neck, but the taste was wrong. The blood that should have been sweet was stale, tainted. A bitter taste on my tongue instead of the familiar aroma. I spat it out. The necromancer's power was faltering, unable to fully control my senses. I felt disappointed. The monster felt quite disappointed.
As I expected, the necromancer was still alive. My strike had pierced him through the heart, my bite had torn a chunk from his neck, but none of it had mattered. He wasn't even fazed. He slashed at me again, cutting into my flesh, but all I did was chuckle. My wounds closed faster than ever, healing with a maddening speed.
I slammed my fist into his face, but his body dissolved into black smoke, swirling around me. The room—or what I could see of it—was now shrouded in a thick, suffocating darkness. His illusions twisted, warping the very fabric of reality as he struck from every direction. My claws lashed out blindly, catching his skin at times, ripping through the smoke in a desperate attempt to reach him.
Despite the illusion, despite his tricks, I knew where he was. He had no heartbeat, no scent, nothing alive, but I could sense the subtle rustle of his movements. I clawed, I bit, I slashed, but the jewel around his neck remained just out of reach. We were locked in a dance of death, tearing at each other, yet unable to finish it.
The silver hoops on his fingers gleamed as they moved erratically, manipulating the wires in the air. His growing impatience was palpable, his movements becoming frantic, desperate for my end. Wires stretched between his hands, now behind me. He was going to sever my head with one clean cut. It was only a moment, a single movement.
But before the wires could touch my skin, I moved—faster than he'd ever anticipated. In a blur of motion, I grabbed hold of his clothes and knocking him to the ground. My movements were so fast that the necromancer only realized the attack when he was floating with his head inches off the ground.
I knew that after such an attack no one else would move again. That body, however, felt no pain, and the necromancer could use it it crumbled into dust. As long as he held onto the necklace, his life would remain intact. The body might break apart, but he wouldn't hesitate. Not for a second.
He kicked my chin upwards, using his hands to push himself into a standing position. Gravity pulled medown, but in the next instant, the necromancer drove his knee into my stomach, slamming me against the concrete with brutal force. The impact crushed my insides, shattering bones like brittle wood.
For a heartbeat, I thought I was done for. For a brief, agonizing moment, I believed the damage was too severe for my healing to keep up with.
My vision blurred, and a violent tremor seized my body. I couldn't move, not even a fraction, no matter how hard I willed it. All I could feel was the erratic pounding of my heart. The only sound was its heavy, desperate beat echoing in my ears. And beneath it all, the monster within me clawed at the edges of my consciousness, driven by an instinct to survive.
Blood filled my mouth, and every breath felt like a battle. Even the smallest intake of air seemed futile. Then, slowly, my healing ability kicked in, and the pressure in my chest began to ease. Oxygen trickled into my lungs with more ease, though it was still painful. Some of my ribs had been forced out of place, and the discomfort lingered, but I was alive. I wasn't going to die yet.
The necromancer gripped my face, holding me in place, leaving only one eye exposed—perhaps so I could witness the extinguishing of my life.
"Die already," he snarled, and an invisible force clutched at me, wrenching violently at the very essence of my being.
Could this be my soul slipping away?
The monster within me thrashed against him, a wounded beast, desperate for survival, screaming for me to fight back. His fury was a fire that refused to be snuffed out. Devour him.
I fought the magic, and with all the defiance of the creature that shared my blood, I reached out. My fingers latched onto the necromancer's wrist, squeezing hard enough to make him flinch.
"Gotcha," I muttered.
Just as the necromancer seemed to realize he had underestimated me, Livius appeared from the darkness. In a single, fluid motion, he ripped the necromancer's necklace from his neck.
"No!" the necromancer howled, panic rising in his voice, "Don't you dare!"
A sharp, knowing smile spread across Livius' lips as he whispered a spell. The stone in the necklace shattered with a crack that seemed to echo in the air. The necromancer's body went limp immediately, and the illusion he'd crafted faded away like a dying ember. I lowered him gently to the ground, staring at his face, his soft, curly brown hair and his lifeless brown eyes—a vagues familiarity that bothered me.
"Is it over?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
Livius smiled faintly, though it was tinged with concern. His gaze flickered to my ribs, and his expression turned pale.
"Do you—"
"No," I interrupted, pushing myself upright with a sharp wince. I reached for the protruding ribs, shoving one back into place with a grunt of pain. "Ouch," I hissed, but I quickly followed up, resetting the other two.
Livius turned even paler, but I didn't have time to care. I twisted my torso, checking that everything was as it should be.
"Tend to the others," I said, "I'll look for the other regalia."
He nodded without hesitation, his face still pale, but he didn't argue.