New Life in a New World Ch. 04

The half-lycan charged the necromancer again, this time she managed to grab a hold of Sirenia's hand wielding the dagger. In a knife fight, short of disarming an opponent, the best way to win is by keeping control of the knife hand. She pushed the outstretched arm to the side, the necromancer struggling back. She wrapped her free arm over Sirenia's shoulders and around the back of her neck. Pulling back, she forced the necromancer to hunch over slightly and immediately kneed her in the midsection. Sirenia exhaled forcefully in pain as the wind got knocked out of her. But she quickly regained herself and ran into the wall, shoving the wolf girl into it. Impacting the wall, the half-lycan's grip loosened. The necromancer shoved herself away and once again took another swipe at Lydia. But she was ready and deflected the attack off her own dagger. The sound of scraping metal filled the room as the daggers clashed against each other. She kicked high and impacted the necromancer's chest, stumbling backwards across the tiny room.

Sasha looked on in fright as the two white haired women battled each other. Lydia again thrust her dagger at the other woman's midsection. The necromancer countered, deflecting her attack and knocking away her dagger. Seeing an opening, Sirenia thrust her own dagger at the wolf girl who luckily jumped back in time to avoid the attack. While she was taller than Lydia and had a better reach, the half-lycan was faster. As the dragoness watched, she came to a terrifying realization. This was not simple sparring. The two other women were fighting with extreme intensity, the kind that one would find on the battlefield. The half-lycan and the necromancer looked at each other with absolute hate. These two women intended to kill each other.

After her failed thrust, Sirenia tried to retract her blade. But the highly trained lycan warrior was ready. The wolf girl high kicked the necromancer's hand, sending the blade sailing across the room and clattering on the floor. With her opponent disarmed, Lydia had the best opening she could ask for. She attempted to thrust her dagger forward, but found herself unable to move her arm. Looking back, she saw Sasha holding her arm in place and preventing her from making the kill. The half-lycan growled angrily and smashed her elbow into the dragoness' face. The white dragoness fell back onto the bed, her hands gripping her nose in pain. Lydia suddenly felt something grasp her knife wielding hand. She looked forward to see the necromancer standing in directly front of her, smiling menacingly. With Lydia's weapon hand immobilized, the necromancer placed her other hand directly on the woman's chest. Recovering from getting hit in the face, the dragoness' eyes widened in horror as she realized what was about to happen. The necromancer was about to use her Soulburst spell and destroy the half-lycan's very soul. All she had to do was speak one word to kill her opponent.

"Sirenia! Don't do it!" cried a panicked voice in the corner of the room.

The necromancer turned to see Sasha looking at her, a terrified expression on her face. A small dribble of blood ran down her nose where Lydia had hit her moments before. The dragoness' eyes pleaded with her to not complete her spell. But before she could say anything, the half-lycan grabbed a fistful of the necromancer's silver hair. She shrieked loudly at the excruciating feeling of her hair being tugged out of her scalp. Suddenly, her head was shoved backwards and slammed into the wall behind her. A loud thud filled the tiny room as the albino woman hit the floor. Sirenia did not remember too much after hitting the wall as she was knocked out for a few seconds from the trauma. But when she came to, she was flat on her back on the hard wooden floor. She looked up to see the half-lycan beauty crouched above with her dagger pressed to the necromancer's throat.

Her golden eyes filled with rage as she pressed the dagger against the throat of her opponent beneath her. A small trickle of blood flowed down the albino woman's neck as the blade began to cut into her skin. Lydia's hand started to shake as she contemplated her next move. All she had to do was slit this woman's throat and she would be out of her life forever. So why couldn't she do it? What would John say if he saw this? Tears welled up in her eyes as she imagined his disappointed look. If she killed this woman in cold blood it would not matter if she confessed her love, he would not want anything to do with her. Reluctantly, she removed the blade from Sirenia's neck.

"The only reason I won't kill you is because he wouldn't want me to," she growled as she got off the necromancer.

"That makes two of us," Sirenia replied, her eyes still seething with anger.

Lydia sheathed her knife and let out a frustrated sigh, "Just go! Nobody wants you here."

"No," the necromancer shot back, "You don't want me here and I could care less about what you want. I have my own reasons for going after Solomon. So like it or not, as long as you are going after him, I'm coming along too."

Letting out an angry huff, Lydia turned to leave the room. She had enough of this woman and her unhelpful colleague. Her anger was only intensified by the lycan blood within. John had the right idea earlier, she needed a drink as well.

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Scraping the small rock against the wall of the cave, John made another mark to help find his way through. He continued making his way through the twisting corridors, searching for Lilith's lost son. The cave was a labyrinth of corridors and chambers, it could take weeks to search it all. He had been searching for just over twenty minutes, with no sign of the boy. A few bats flew past his flashlight as he continued on. As he went deeper into the cave, the air became colder and moist. Droplets of condensation formed on the rocks. He felt a small chill like he had stepped into a refrigerator. For a moment, he thought about putting on his fleece only to remember that there was still a big tear in the arm from back at Sasha's. Sighing in frustration, he reminded himself that he would need to get that repaired soon. Who knew what climates this journey would take him.

He was no stranger to navigating a cave network, he had done it several times before in Afghanistan. On occasion, his squad would have to search and clear a cave when Taliban hunting. Normally searching the caves was a painfully slow process, taking one step at a time and scanning for tripwires and IEDs. Luckily, John didn't have to face those out here so he could move through the cave a bit faster. But that did not stop him from being careful. He shined his light on the floor, walls and ceiling, checking for booby traps and any other hazards.

The corridors in the cave were plenty wide, though there were a few parts where the walls closed up for a tight squeeze. The chambers themselves were pretty large as well. Stalactites hung from the ceiling and stalagmites rose from the floor, like the teeth of a beast ready to consume him. Not quite like the caves in Afghanistan where you had to crouch and crawl your way through them, this was easier to navigate.

He stopped when he came to another fork in the corridor. So far he hadn't found anything that would give him a clue where Lilith's son had gone. No footprints, no litter or left behind gear, nothing. At this point he was choosing his paths at random...or was he? Every time he came to a fork or had several paths to choose from, there was something compelling him to choose one over the other. Like a small voice or an overwhelming feeling, if he was thinking of going left he couldn't help but go right. The scary part was that these suggestions did not seem like they were coming from himself. It was like someone else was influencing him, prodding him to take a specific path. As he took the path to the right, he drew two arrows on the walls. One pointing in the direction he came from, so he could find his way back. The other arrow pointed in the direction he was going. That way if Lydia came looking for him, she could follow his path like a trail of bread crumbs.

He wondered if he should have brought Lydia with him, it would have made searching the caves a lot faster. Though on second thought, she probably wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. He tried to play the scene out in his head, walking into her room at the inn with the elven woman he just met. Would she understand or would she jump to conclusions and once again let her temper get the best of her. He thought back to the intense argument he had earlier in the morning. Why did she even care who she slept with? Did he want to be with her in a deeper relationship? Absolutely! But she killed that idea on their second day together. He did not intend to hurt her, but he also had the right to live his own life. Unless...did she still have feelings for him? John froze as he recalled the previous night at the inn when he was alone with her in the room. Was she going to admit those feelings? He decided he would ask her once tempers had cooled. Though, he would probably have to deal with the fact he ran off without telling her first.

It was not long until he was faced with a dead end. Probably should have gone left instead of right. He was just about to turn around when he saw something. It would have been easy to miss if his flashlight had not caught it by chance. An opening at the base of the wall. It was small, just barely big enough to crawl through. Crouching down, he shined his flashlight through the opening and saw a larger chamber on the other side. For a moment he thought about turning around and heading back to the town. Considering how expansive this cave system was, he really should have the girls help him out with the search. But then that overwhelming feeling came back, that urge to continue on. Despite any logical thinking that he should go back for help, something was compelling him to keep going.

The opening itself was only about two feet wide and a foot and a half high. After studying the size of the opening, he glanced back to his backpack and down to his vest. The ammo and pouches alone made the vest quite bulky even if he did detach the backpack. There was no way he was going to fit through with all of his gear on. John pulled out a chemlight from his vest. Cracking the glowstick in half, a neon green light filled the corridor. He unslung his rifle and tossed it through the hole. Unbuckling his bulky vest, he slipped it off and placed it on the ground next to the opening to retrieve later. He removed his knife from the vest and attached it to his belt on his lower back. He laid down in his stomach and began to crawl through. Putting his arms through first, he grasped the rocky floor and pulled his upper body through the opening. His kneepads scraped loudly against the ground as he slid through Even with his gear off it was a tight fit. Once he got past his hips, he realized he was caught on something. He looked back to see that he still had his pistol strapped to his leg. Too late to remove now, he twisted and wiggled his legs until he got all the way through the opening.

John picked up his M4 rifle and got back to his feet. When he looked ahead, he saw something he had not noticed before. The other end of the chamber narrowed and turned a corner. Glowing around that corner, he could see the soft orange flicker of light from a fire. Someone else was here. Keeping his rifle raised, he carefully moved to the end of the room. Any reservations about moving forward were silenced by whatever was influencing him to keep moving. It was like a compulsive urge that he could not fight.

"That's it, come closer," said a voice from inside his head.

He knew something was very wrong, but he was unable to turn back. John continued moving forward until he turned the corner and found himself in another chamber. Several torches lined the walls, filling the room with an intense orange glow. There was an exit on one of the far walls of the room. At the end of the end of the chamber in front of John was a tall, gangly creature. It was humanoid, but certainly not human.

The figure stood about six feet tall, its skin a slate grey in color. It had no muscle mass on it at all, just skin and bones. The creature's skin clung to its pronounced ribcage. Its bald head seemed almost out of proportion with the rest of its body. Two black orbs peered back at John through sunken eye sockets. A twisted smile formed on the thin lips of the skull-like face.

"Took you long enough to get here," the creature said to John through his mind.

This thing was inside his head, he could feel its presence inside of him. John quickly leveled his rifle at the creature. A sudden pain shot through his head as he felt the presence search through his mind. He dropped his rifle on the ground as he fell to his knees, cradling his head in his hands. The pain was excruciating, like having his head hammered on, drilled into, and set on fire all at once. He swore that his brain was going to burst in his skull.

"Get out of my head!!!!" John screamed.

"Ah, there we are," the demonic voice laughed as if he found something of value. "Nightmares are always so much fun to watch."

The pain in his head started to subside, the demonic cackling gave way to terrified screams. The cold air of the cave was replaced by much hotter air, thick smoke started to fill his lungs with each breath. The odor of paper, oil, and electrical parts was overwhelming. Pulling his head out of his hands, John looked up to find himself no longer in the cave. Instead he was in an office building, surrounded by cubicles. He came to the sudden and horrifying realization that this was his father's office.

"I don't wanna die," cried out a terrified childlike voice that John instantly recognized.

Peering through the smoke, he saw his little sister and his parents. They sat on their knees, huddled together while they embraced each other. A sickening feeling formed in his stomach when he realized just what he was witnessing. While he was obviously not present when his family perished, he had for years speculated about their last moments. The creature had dug up those thoughts and was now force feeding them back to John.

"It's going to be alright," his father replied to his sister, trying to comfort her. "The firemen are on their way up here to help us."

They would never reach them in time and his parents knew it. There was an inferno just a few floors beneath them and spreading fast. John looked around at the other people in the office. Some were making phone calls to their loved ones, others in prayer. Behind him there was a group trying to get to the stairs, but the door was jammed shut. As they tried to kick and throw their bodies against the stuck door, John knew it would not have mattered if they could get it open. All the staircases below them were destroyed. Everyone was trapped.

"Make it stop!" John cried out.

"Is this bothering you?" the demon chuckled to him, "I'm finding your suffering rather enjoyable."

The toxic smoke became thicker and filled the room. Some broke windows to try and vent the smoke. Others decided to take their fate into their own hands and leapt from the building, falling over a hundred stories to the street below. John's family remained huddled together, weeping in terror.

"I love you," his father whispered to his mother, kissing her on the forehead.

"I love you too," she replied as she squeezed his hand.

"You know how to end this," the demonic voice spoke to him again. "You have been considering it for years, but you were too cowardly to act on it. Go ahead and end your suffering."

John couldn't take it anymore, he was stuck in a nightmare he could not wake up from. The flames roared as they closed in. More screams filled his ears as the office became hotter and the smoke got thicker. A loud metal groan echoed throughout the building, the structure was beginning to fail.

"Mommy! I'm scared!" his sister cried. John's mother pulled her close as they prepared for the end.

He had to end this nightmare. Reaching toward his thigh, his hand felt its way to his pistol and removed it from the holster. No more second thoughts, this time he would follow through. His eyes squinted shut as he swallowed hard. John firmly pressed the barrel to the underside of his chin and slowly squeezed the trigger.

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Lydia barged into the Devine Barrel tavern, slamming the door shut behind her. The loud bang from the slammed door drew a few glances her way. A few of the drunkards looked at her with silly smiles, a few catcalls could be heard from the patrons. One man close by her tried to run his hand up her silky smooth thigh and up her skirt. Stepping away she shot them a dirty glare and unsheathed her katana by a couple of inches, making it very clear she was not to be fucked with. Seeing this, the drunken men in the room immediately went back to their own business. As she looked around the room, she was surprised that John was nowhere to be found. But perhaps he went to go pick up the last of their supplies? Hopefully he would be back before they had to meet up with the caravan.

She took a stool at the bar, Max came over to her and tried to be his usual charming self. "Well, what can I do for my favorite lovely wolf girl?" he asked with a big smile.

Lydia glared back at him, clearly unamused. "Just get me some of that moonshine stuff from yesterday."

His smile quickly faded and was replaced by a puzzled look, "But if I recall, you hated it?"

"Just give it to me," she growled.

Max nodded nervously and retrieved the bottle from the shelf. He was correct in the fact that she did hate the drink. There was no flavor, nothing pleasurable or indulging about it. She remembered it being painful to drink, burning in her throat and belly. But that didn't matter to her. She needed the strongest drink that Max had and this was it. Being part lycan meant that she had a stronger metabolism and could drink twice as much as humans before feeling the effects. After the barkeep poured her drink, she downed it in one big gulp. Grimacing as she swallowed the repulsive liquid, she slammed her glass on the counter for a refill. She would need several more before she could feel better.

She should had killed her, the damn necromancer. Now not only was she frustrated about Sirenia trying to take John for herself, but also by the fact that she nearly beat Lydia in combat. Where did she learn to fight like that? Necromancers primarily use magic as their strength in battle and try to avoid direct hand to hand combat. But Lydia could tell that Sirenia was different. Not only was she well trained, but her ferocity proved that she had seen combat before and spilt blood. This put Lydia at a disadvantage. Despite being trained from a young age and almost unmatched in sparring, the half-lycan had never seen real combat beyond the occasional hunt or encounters with imps. She had never experienced what it was like to slay an enemy or lose a comrade on the battlefield. That would change very soon.

"I thought drinking your sorrows away was a uniquely human trait?" said a familiar feminine voice. The half-lycan looked over to see Sasha taking the seat next to her.

"Well, I felt like it was worth a try," replied the wolf girl.

A smirk formed along the dragoness' lips, "True, but unless I'm mistaken about lycan biology, you'll burn through our travel funds long before you get drunk."

Lydia slammed her glass down on the table and let out a frustrated sigh. "What the hell do you want with me?"

"Actually, I came to see what you wanted," Sasha replied.

"What I want?" the wolf girl said as she finally looked up from her glass. The dragoness looked back at her, a concerned yet caring expression on her face. "What I want is for you and that...that whore, to be gone. What I want is for the two you to have never come into our lives."