I hate the smell of charred wood, and I hate the smell of arrogant fucks like the guy outside, "Yer' death is nigh haethens!" The apostle yelled. My ears twitched. I darted towards the windows next to the main door. Footsteps garnered speed outside. We had about two minutes before they came in.
"Kan," I whispered, "do you still remember how to tie a rope?"
"ya' fucking with me?"
"You know the drill," I commanded, and slashed both my palms with my index nails. Kan nodded as he clapped my hands, the blood stuck to his palms like honey as we began filling the cottage with traps.
We strung the black blood across any door or hallway, just right under ankle height, then thinned it out to an almost invisible amount, like a spider web. Kan went into the living room, where he placed drops of the blood on the floor and then connected it to tied up nooses in the ceiling.
"How much more time do we have?" Kan asked as he darted in front of me. "Thirty seconds," I said as I ran across the living room, hiding blood behind bookshelves or small corners or holes. Kan stood next to me after finishing, our hands clapping together. The blood flowed back to my palms, forming thin strings that snaked into the air. The sound of footsteps quickened outside, Kan darted toward the fireplace and climbed up the chimney where the horse's corpse laid. I peeled off a few planks to hide underneath, infusing them with blood as a step trap.
I took another deep breath, calming my heart. The smell of trampled grass outside invaded my nostrils. Then I heard them, nine scholars stormed into the cottage at once. Well, less walking and more like they kicked the doors open, broke the windows, and rushed in like hooligans.
Everything calmed down, then came the calculated steps, four in the living room, three near me, and two in the kitchen. I glanced at my hands, the strings vibrating against my fingertips. A good rule of thumb: don't start an attack 'till you're sure you can kill more than half of your enemies before they notice.
The strings teased my nerves, two strings vibrated, then three, then none, then one, but never the five I needed. Another rule of thumb: when things don't go your way, make them. I moved the strings in the living room. Sudden steps rose in the quiet cottage. Four vibrations. Then five! I pulled the strings tight, five small thuds echoed, followed by a heavy crash in the living room. "Gwa!" A scholar yelled as gunshots erupted in the living room. It sounded as if he was the only one there. Then I heard a heavy shot, followed by a heavy thud. Kan must've finished the job. That made six scholars down.
I listened to the last three scholars, feet pounding the stairs from above. I pulled the laceration strings tight, a moment later, a scream followed a thud near me. Blood dripped right through the planks above, and I couldn't resist the temptation as I licked it off.
Blood dripped right through the planks above. My tongue darted out, tasting the warm, iron-rich liquid as it pooled above me. Footsteps echoed near my hiding spot, then another string jerked, and a shower of deep red blood rained on me. One last rule of thumb: always smile when you're rewarded for hard work.
I licked as much of that sweet blood as I could, before another shot was fired from the living room. I punched through the planks and stood up, surveying the carnage. a bloodied, white cloaked body, laid with many holes to my left, and to my right, a scholar with a bullet hole between his eyes. And to my front, Kan crawled from the chimney, head first.
"How the hell did you shoot through the chimney?" I asked, licking the blood off of my skin,
"I used my hands to shoot instead," Kan replied with a hint or irritation in his voice, "and… gross." But our victory was short-lived. More of them, maybe thirty… no fifty were surrounding the cottage. "I see how you fight now, hunters!" The apostle roared, "my brethren died martyrs tonight, their death shall not go unpaid!" He yelled.
The walls shuddered and through them pierced fifteen fountain pens right into the living room, each with a small transparent container on the back, and a fine majestic smooth tip.
Instincts took over. I grabbed my knife, deflecting the pens as they hurled towards me. Beside me, Kan did the same. Our images blurred with each deflection, our speed stirring up the dust from withering furniture.
"Death welcomes you, heathens!" The apostle snarled. The pens flew around us like mosquitos, hungry for blood. They launched at us again, precise like a bullet. I deflected one just in time, sending it into the horse's body, then dodged the rest. Kan sprinted upstairs parrying another pen as he moved. I leaped into the living room, barely keeping up. These pens didn't lose momentum; if they missed, they'd rotate back, faster. And with one eye, tracking them is a fucking nightmare. "Succumb to your death!" The apostle roared, I caught a glimpse of the pen that I'd deflected into the horse snap out and pierce through the wall as I parried another wave.
Then I noticed the cottage had fallen eerily silent, only two heartbeats now. The horse's chest stopped moving, and so was its heart. Kan jumped off the second floor, landing beside me, his knife cutting through a pen that nearly grazed me.
"Dude these pens are relentless!" He yelled as our backs met, the pens hovering around us, ready to strike again.
"The horse's heart stopped…" I muttered, breaking a pen with my knife. Another pen shot through the wall cracks, "he killed it with the pens…" then the realisation kicked me in the guts. "Whatever you do, do not let these things touch you!" I shouted, deflecting another one that came too close to my neck.
A pen after another. If one pen got broken two would spawn out the cracks. Kan made a desperate leap for the kitchen window, but a shot rang out, splintering the decayed window frame's wood, sending jagged planks into his arm.
"Damn it… These fucks are everywhere!" He groaned, clutching his bleeding hand. I barely managed to deflect a pen going for his eye, but another slipped past my guard, slicing into his jagged arm. I threw my knife in rage at the pen, but it missed, embedding itself into the cracked walls. The pen made its way outside the cottage, and all I could do was turn back to Kan. My heart pounded, primal fear devoured his face, everything felt slower.
then I snapped.
"Damn it damn it damn it!!" I cursed, grabbing the knife from the wall and fending off another pen. Kan was back on his feet, yet his face told another story.
"Dude…" he muttered, his voice trembling. "Am I going to die young?"
"No... Not yet," I growled, rushing to the main entrance. I tore the door off its hinges, the wooden frame cracking and splintering from each hinge that broke off with the door frame.
"Hey asshole! Express delivery" I shouted,
The apostle dodged, lifting himself effortlessly on his white scrolls, but the door shattered several of his pens, including the one stained with Kan's blood. He hovered above the ground, his grin widening as ten pens circled me like vultures.
"Don't move, heathen," the apostle sneered, his grin widening as ten pens circled me like vultures around a dead prey. The scholars descended from above the cottage, each with a blade that burnt just from close contact, they must've dipped them in holy water. Two scholars at my neck, three at my heart.
"Did you 'hope' you could win?" he taunted, swaying side to side like a snake towards me.
"Or did you 'hope' you could win?" He chuckled darkly, then spat on my face.
"I'll tell you what, demon. I will spare your friend if you bend the knee. After all, I correct the wrongdoers," his voice turned cold, "and kill the devils."
The deal reeked of deceit, but the rules were clear: an apostle couldn't lie. Still, the thought of submitting to him made my stomach churn. I grinned, baring my teeth. "Bend the knee, you say? Have you ever heard of a prideless demon? I'd rather die!" I roared, ducking low to the ground just as the knives lunged at me.
A rifle shot rang out behind me, Kan's shot. The crack of it splitting the air at close quarters staggered everyone. The apostle barely dodged, the bullet grazing his right cheek. Kan hurled a blood vial at the scholars, the glass shattering into a thick black cloud.
I dashed through it, grabbing the apostle by his white robe collar as the fog dispersed. "It's just you and me now, asshole." I locked eyes with him, revealing my right eye.
"What the…!" He gasped, but stopped. all the sounds around stopped, the scholars gone, no birds, no whistles, no wrestling in the bushes, not a single breath allowed inside or outside, except by my command. The beating of the scholar's heart grew dimmer. "The fuck did you do?!" He choked, sweat falling off his forehead, his teeth chattering with every word.
"Awwwh, are you scared?" I said, stepping closer as he stumbled back. "You feel it, don't you? You walked into destined death." My smirk widened as I slowly pulled the knife from my bicep, its blade slick with black blood. "No pens to help you, no holiness to save you, you are going to die."
"Shut up!!" He screamed.
I struck fast, driving the knife into his right kidney. He gasped, his eyes almost popped out of his mouth as I grabbed his chin. I twisted the blade, watching the red stain spread across his white robe. "You like it? Hypocrite," I whispered, pulling the knife free.
His breath hitched as I stabbed his left kidney, his body convulsing at the pain, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Awwh? Are you scared?" I said, twisting the knife out
"I don't often use this attack," I murmured, watching his gaze drop to the black blood seeping from my own kidney wound. "But I love to see the look of hypocrites like you when they die." I stabbed him in the chest, then the stomach.
His body jerked with each strike. I let him fall to the ground, his breathing ragged, as my blood dripped from my mouth. I had both my kidneys stabbed, and my chest was pouring blood like a fountain.
"Dying to a demon like me… You really should've kept yer guard up. " I collapsed onto my back.
"What… Are you?" the apostle muttered, his arms splayed out on the grass, a look of disbelief in his fading eyes, "no demon... no heathen... Could kill me... Before..."
"I am the kind you forgot to read in your history books. The one you thought being the weakest." I chuckled, rising to one knee, my gaze locked on him.
"I am a mistake." I leaned closer, letting him see the truth in my right eye. Behind me, Kikron's face loomed, his demonic fangs merging with the sky, as the moon turned black, the sky turned red.
"You…" His voice faltered, his eyes turning pale. "Demon of Tyurius.... Kehehe" he whispered, choking on his blood.
"Bretheren... Forgive me... The final times... are coming..."
"The fuck are you on about?" I said, as I healed my wounds. His blood seeped into the earth, staining the grass red. I stood over him, as Kikron's breath steamed the air around us.
"Lo…rd… for…give… me…"
***
Did that idiot just run into fifty scholars' crosshairs without thinking twice? The smoke was thick, blurring my vision. But as it cleared, I saw Hiko on his knees beside the hole riddled apostle. The scholars, all fifty of them, stood frozen in place, watching in silence. One of them moved to attack, their eyes fixed on Hiko as he slowly stood up, towering over the apostle's lifeless body.
"What a sad day…" The scholar next to me said, stepping towards Hiko. His voice quivered, as if the weight of grief pressed down on him like an invisible shroud. The others turned towards Hiko, their faces etched with sorrow; eyes wide, brows furrowed, some glistening with unshed tears.
A heavy silence enveloped us, broken only by the rustle of leaves in the somber breeze. The scholar's words hung in the air, a haunting echo, as a collective shudder rippled through the group. "What a sad day…" they murmured in unison, their expressions a painful blend of loss and disbelief.
Two scholars cautiously approached, their faces pale and resolute, lifting the dead apostle onto their shoulders with trembling hands.
The scholars, though concealed by their robes and hoodies, emitted a smell of primal fear. Their legs shook, and their guns pointed at us, trembling as if barely held together by will alone. I had my rifle pointed at them, ready, but Hiko placed a hand on my arm, lowering the barrel.
"Don't engage them," he murmured, his voice strangely soft. "They're mourning their dead."
One by one, the last of scholars turned and fled into the forest. I looked at Hiko, who hadn't taken his eyes off the trees, as if he was looking deep into the eyes of a sad movie scene. For some reasons… His face looked different, so sad…
"You… alright?" I asked, holstering my rifle.
"Yeah… I'm fine," he replied, though his gaze remained fixed on the forest. The usual sharpness in his eyes was gone, replaced by something distant, almost as if he was unsatisfied.
"Sooo uhm… You killed an apostle?" I sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "How the hell did you do that?"
Hiko's lips curled into a small, almost bitter smile, "heh, I don't know what I did myself… But it worked." He stared at his palm, as if searching for answers in the lines of his hand. "It was as if… the world wanted me to kill him."
"Weeeeeird, maybe it was his time... How do you feel being the first demon to kill an apostle" I said, glancing at the forest where the battle had ended.
He brushed his hair back, his eyes lowering to the ground. "Kinda shit... Now they will keep hunting us over." His voice was quiet, almost as if he was speaking to himself.
"A demon that can kill apostles… I never thought I'd see the day. Ya think everything will be fine?" I asked, my tone sinking low.
"No... But don't tell Aloray about any of this. At least until we find another place to run to... I guess going that far for our promises is just who we are. We're just.. idiots" He said. Clenching his dog-tag and the black rose petal laying softly on his striped shirt.
I chuckled. Sensing his fatigue, I guess even a demon ought to take a break once in a while, "Now isn't that some shit? Come on, let's go back. I am too hungry to think about this." I said, turning to gather the little girl's remains, carefully wrapping the dry bones in a cloth, tying it securely.
As I did, a thought crossed my mind, and I glanced back to Hiko "Did the apostle say… Anything in that scuffle of yours?" Hiko appeared hesitant, then shook his head. "...Nah, he didn't say anything. Just the usual 'heathen' bullshit. He couldn't figure out that he got killed by a demon. What an idiot." He said, letting out a low chuckle and stepped inside, hefting the horse onto his back with ease.
The sight of him carrying a horse three times his size would've been comical under different circumstances. But it is Hiko, he once lifted a bear like demon the size of three carts above each other, then he got tired trying to be cool and ate a chunk of that demon.
"Come on, this is gonna be the treat tonight, horse meat," he said with a grin.
"Hell yeah!" I cheered, eager to leave this hellish day behind.