Drip-Fed Pt. 08

Her right arm, however, was nothing that could be salvaged. There wasn't even an arm to speak of anymore, just a molten solid, long piece of bone. Her shoulder was terribly scorched, something Aclysia could at least mend, but those marks would be on her flesh even after the remains of her limb were separated.

More worrying than that, at least immediately, was the state Reysha was in mentally. She was clearly awake. Her eyes were open and followed things that entered her vision, sometimes she blinked, her breathing was steady, and her ears reacted to sound. As a matter of fact, she reacted to all of these things at remarkable speeds. However, she didn't speak, she didn't make as much as a single sound, and although her body was clearly wrecked, there was no sign of pain.

All she did was lay there and let herself be treated. "Help me get her out of here," Aclysia said, her voice calm. This whole situation was too much for her, she was worried for Apexus, worried about the consequences of today and what would happen to Reysha. The burden of it all made her cave in and take it all with an oddly intense clarity. Although that determination came at the cost of her usual foresight. Her mind was too occupied in dealing with the current happenings to make any plans.

Neither did she manage to give thought to what she said and who she said it to. Mehily was standing frozen over Reysha, Berholdth behind her. The brutish Warrior knew even less about what was going on than anyone else, but he held the corpse of Evmeria in his arms and there was no doubt about who was responsible for the violent demise.

"We should just bring her to justice right now," Berholdth growled. "Spare us the trouble."

"It's not your place nor right to judge her," Aclysia simply responded with something she had said before. "After all you did, you should know how terribly misguided you are."

It was a stupid comment to make at the current time, only succeeded in straining the situation. A vein popped out on the dark-haired man's forehead. "Well, we didn't break some ancient seal that the Cardinal himself kept secret and make the SKY CRACK!"

"Berth, please," Mehily stated, sounding just tired. "We don't know what's going on. We just found this room. I am sure whatever is happening, the Cardinal is going to take care of it and..."

"Cardinal, Cardinal, Cardinal," a mocking, guttural voice echoed from the darkness. "You servants of the Church and your hierarchy based on trust. There is only power." Whenever it pronounced an S there was an unpleasant hissing to his tone. "Your Cardinal doesn't have enough power to stop my master. He has already failed. Your beloved Cardinal is dead."

They turned around and went pale as a group as the Deathhound peeled itself out of the darkness of the hall and walked into the dimly lit room that had housed the seal. When the creature had almost reached them, it changed to a bipedal stance, towering over even the Warrior. Berholdth dropped the body, drew his sword, screamed, and swung at Terlash. The weapon was swept away with such force that the steel shattered into a hundred pieces.

"Master didn't say anything about you... and what Master doesn't know, Master won't misssssss," the Deathhound let out a number of forced cackles and let Berholdth take a number of fruitless swings at him, before grabbing his arms and spreading them open. The Warrior's head was left unprotected. Light spells dissolved on Terlash's skin like water when hitting a hot piece of metal. The abomination's elongated maw opened wide and wrapped around Berholdth's head. Then, with a crunching sound, the jaws closed.

The chewing motion was even worse than the bite, as the headless, armoured body was left to drop to the floor on top of the mangled form that had been Evmeria. The Deathhound had no lips to seal and its teeth clearly weren't designed for the task. Furthermore, it seemed it didn't have any traditional jawbones. The teeth moved almost individually, as the mouth opened and closed. Shards of a skull, a squished eye, pieces of brain, tongue and skin, they fell down to the floor, as the head was reduced to a messy pulp and swallowed by the demon.

Mehily failed to retain her composure or even the contents of her stomach. Vomit splattered over the floor. Aclysia couldn't blame her, had she had the same biology, her reaction would have been the same. Dropping back on all six limbs now that the other tall person in the room was nothing more than a bleeding carcass, the Deathhound sniffed at the two bodies.

"Inquisitor," Terlash hissed, swiping the two bodies away without any respect for the fallen. They flew across the room and bounced off the curved roof. Stinking with fresh blood, the Tharnatos class demon moved up to Mehily. The Priestess stepped away from it as quickly as she could, Terlash hissed amusedly and followed. "Do you fight? Tell me you fight. I am hungry." The long tongue darted out and licked across Mehily's face, spreading a mixture of black saliva and Berholdth's blood over her. Still, no reaction. "You bore me."

Mehily couldn't believe her luck when the Deathhound turned away. It seemed to ignore her. 'Oh, thank the Divine,' she prayed silently. 'I will... I don't know what I will do but...' her offerings and prayers came to a sudden end, when she was grabbed by the head in a decisively uncaring motion. Without as much as a single moment of hesitation, the three claws of the creature secured a grip and the two thumbs gouged her eyes out.

"Kssssshhhhksssshkshhhh," Terlash let out a series of amused sounds as he left the Priestess on the floor. "Yes, pain, yes, that's what I hungered for. Aaaah, yessss, wait and blind and die of nature. Am I cruel? No, I spare you, I spare you, I am no Parasyte."

One of the four eyes of the creature fell on Aclysia, the other three quickly followed. "Ragressian and exiled angel, the Master calls for you," the demon skittered towards them, but Aclysia didn't step away, instead protectively cradling Reysha's body. Terlash reached out, enjoying the distress the creeping motion caused the angel, but its hand stayed closely before reaching them. Moving at the speeds he could actually display, the Deathhound suddenly dropped and begun sniffing the molten bone at the hand. "Master, Empress is here, Empress is here!" its fingers clacked on the floor an unnerving staccato, moving in excitement. "I see, I see, tools of the Master, not toys, good, good, fallen angel, good angel, a being born holy turned good, yes, yes. Bury yourself in Roots, come, come, the Master beckons."

Aclysia had no idea what misunderstanding the demon was falling prey too, but clarifying it seemed against her immediate interest. "We will come in a minute, please, go ahead. We will meet you there." She had no idea where 'there' was, but if she could convince the creature of leaving, there was a chance they could make an escape.

"Master's command absolute," Terlash shook his head.

Aclysia turned her head and looked at the two corpses in the corner. "What Master doesn't know...," she very carefully suggested, "Master won't miss, right?"

"Kshkshkshksh," Terlash laughed. "I like you, yes, yes. But I can't oblige it all. I will wait two door from here. You will come too where else you couldn't be." It was the pettiest of resistances against Apotho's orders and it loved to do that. Turning around the creature turned away.

Aclysia felt as if she was about to shatter. "What is Apotho, really?" she mumbled to herself. She was absolutely helpless. Today had promised to be so hopeful and now that thing was here. In the face of it, she couldn't do anything, but a small good. "I'll be back in a moment," she promised the motionless Reysha and got up. "My deepest apologies," she mumbled, when she reached Evmeria's corpse and only desecrated it further by removing the glass orbs from her eyes. Then she moved over to Mehily.

"Divine, what is happening?" the Priestess was in shock, mumbling desperate prayers. "Did trying to question your tenets do this to me? Do you wish complete obedience after all? Jersoja, Lord, tell me what it is you want?"

"Mehily," Aclysia softly spoke, as she reached out and healed the Priestess eyes. A useless endeavour, the demon's touch had ruined them so thoroughly the healing spell actually identified them as a harmful entity and healed the remains of flesh away like it would a blistering plague bump. At least the bleeding stopped and that was what she was immediately concerned about. It didn't ease the blonde's whimpering though. "Listen," the metal fairy said regardless. "I don't know where it will take us, but I think you're safer here." She forced the artificial eyes into her hands. "I don't know if you can use these, but they're the best I can do for you. Survive... and I am sorry."

Aclysia didn't know why she apologized. She had only ever gone the difficult path of the fewest victims. If everyone else involved had kept it the same way, none of this would have happened. Yet she felt like she should shoulder what she could. "Thank you, angel," Mehily mumbled in a tone, clutching the orbs. Her tone had nothing of someone in this reality.

"Come, Reysha," Aclysia said, herself not sure how to handle what the tiger girl had released in her thirst for vengeance. For now, it was enough that the redhead was alive.

A state that might not persist.

Apexus saw the two women in his life approach with none of the happiness he would normally have. His head was hanging in shame, his eyes widened at the damage Reysha had taken. Aclysia was allowed to reach the slime and soon all three of them were cowering in the shadow of the hound Kurlesh, who snarled, then hesitated and lowered his head to sniff at Reysha's arm like Terlash had earlier.

The slime wanted to push the creature back, but remained entirely at the mercy of Apotho and his demons. Nothing he could have done would do more than inconvenience those things that weren't allowed to kill him.

The Warlock was currently busy directing Terlash to scratch lines into the pavement. They were in the large plaza between the fortress that walled the city off from the Stem and the many guild buildings. Most of the city had obeyed the evacuation order, the few people that remained weren't foolish enough to approach the demonic abominations roaming their city.

Taking a break from that work, Apotho walked over to them. "Ah, Reysha, dear Reysha," he mused, Aclysia and Apexus moving to protect the tiger girl. "Oh please, she is the only one you don't need to protect from me. Unlike you two, she obeyed me," with a gesture of his hand, he commanded Kurlesh to force the lovers off the tiger girl. With the remaining two arms, it made Reysha sit upright and turned the ashen-bone arm upward. The sorry remains of her shoulder joint played along.

"What are going to do with?" Apexus hated that the nervousness and anger caused his speech to fall into a deeply false sentence structure again. Laughing at this, Apotho inspected the tiger girl closely. That the slime was unable to formulate proper sentences was deeply amusing to the Warlock.

"I told you, she obeyed me," Apotho told her. "And I reward those who please me. Kurlesh, separate her arm at the shoulder. Then feed her your blood."

"No!" Aclysia shouted out, leaving Apexus confused. He had eaten a demon, nothing bad had come from that. "What reward is death?"

"As you command, Master," the Deathhound ignored all of that, and ripped off the arm as one would off a chicken. Then it bit into its own arm and pressed the wound against Reysha's mouth.

"Drink," Apotho stated, his voice unnatural Charisma that could even convince someone of a mindless state. Although it burned in her mouth and throat, Reysha drank. "It does its job wonderfully, doesn't it, the potion?" the Warlock rolled his neck, made an unhappy face as the stiffness persisted. "It's a real shame I didn't have those better ingredients. I could have made her my puppet for a good while. That chance is ruined now. The next time she uses a potion of this variety, it will do less. Certainly not enough to shackle her will reliably for a long stretch of time. Such are the costs of opportunity."

Aclysia stopped struggling when the socket of Reysha's arm slowly stopped bleeding. Kneeling with some trouble, his age catching up again after the troubles of the day, Apotho extended his right hand towards the wound. His fingers moved in conjuring motions and his mouth moved, nonsensical words escaping his mouth.

The blood no longer flowed. A black liquid oozed out instead, followed Apotho's guidance. "This is something greater than miracles," the grey-haired man stated. "It's power grown from understanding the world. She has been afflicted with Noir, is able to absorb all kinds of physical mana that should be poisonous to humans. I am a Warlock that has mastered all schools of my Class. Manipulating the blood of a demon is easy to me. Witness my reward."

The blood began to branch out. In meticulous and slow work, Apotho created a network of veins. Then he created bones, sinews, muscles, fat and finally skin. After half an hour of work, Reysha had received a new arm. Not some monstrous thing, at least not apparently, it looked exactly like the rest of her, down to the dark tiger stripes on her brown skin. Only a pale scar on her brown skin at the base of her shoulder, where the old limb had been ripped out, was left as evidence of what had happened.

When he got up, he stretched, and old bones cracked and creaked. The plaza was filled with people now, forced back into the city by Purlesk and Turlesh. Many had still escaped, scattered into the woods while the demons had hunted the masses. Less than half of the population of Haralry was driven back into the city. Still, a mass of thousands. Herded like sheep by the Deathhounds so overwhelmingly strong that no resistance could be met with success.

A few guards and adventurers, however, had the idea that the old man that seemed to be their summoner was a different story. Storming at Apotho when they saw an opening, they did not know that this endeavour was even more futile.

Apotho took a deep breath as he was encircled. He raised a hand to show the Deathhound's they could stand back. The adventurers closed in. A snap of his fingers and a shockwave rippled out from the Warlock's skin, stretching three metres out in a crimson red. It passed through the adventurers, exiting their bodies in a pale green. The magic was now saturated with lifeforce, returning to Apotho and sinking back inside him as the assailants fell dead to his feet.

"Lifepulse Inversion," the Warlock lectured whoever would listen with the aura of superiority. "Still as useful against weak masses as ever." His voice was now firmer than before and a hint of red seemed to show from his hair. The dozen people he had just killed had shaved another few years off his age. "LISTEN!" he shouted.

"Lisssssten," each Deathhound screeched loudly, repeating their master's statement so that everyone on the plaza would hear. Although Apotho's voice already carried further than it should, this did serve to reinforce the message.

"I don't enjoy slaughtering you like cattle, I have much better things to do. Play along and you will meet your end quickly, don't and..." Apotho gesture at a random woman in the crowd. All the demons but Kurlesh leapt at her. Twelve clawed arms tore the woman to shreds in the most torturous slowness that three demons could. Although that was still quite a quick death, the blood-chilling screams left no doubt that this was not how anyone wanted to go. The messy way in which they devoured her afterwards didn't help. Turlesh carefully cracked open the chest and picked out the heart for himself, while the other two indiscriminately devoured whatever they could.

Afterwards, the people were compliant. Traumatized and unable to process things properly, they were directed to stand in certain places. For three hours, people were directed to stand here or there. They couldn't sit, they had to wait and everyone who attempted to disobey was torn to shreds in the most gruesome manner imaginable.

The only people spared from this were children. Those under the age of 13 were put aside, gathered in the centre of the plaza along with Apotho, and the trio. Aclysia and Apexus were just watching, still not knowing what their fate would be. They did, however, realize what was going on.

Apotho was making another summoning circle. Rather than draw it into the stone, he made the sacrifices themselves form the lines with their bodies. Thousands of people, forced to shape runes and circles. When the Warlock was finally happy, he picked up Reysha's former arm and cracked open the molten hand.

The die-like gem it had clutched fell into his palm and he held it up toward the sun. "Then let us finalize my requiem," Apotho announced and channelled power into the gem. It absorbed power, more and more power, more than a Cardinal could have ever given, more than any one man should have had. In the first place, this gem had been a possession of Apotho that preceded his mental split. Gizmo had appropriated it for his cause, but now it would serve its original purpose again.

The gem exploded, a myriad of tiny shards scattering through the air in a thin layer. They coalesced above the heads of the sacrifices and created a second, proper layer of lines. All of them were directed towards Apotho. For a moment, it looked beautiful. The shards glittered like tiny stars in the daylight. Then they glowed with infernal power and a greed for more. The massive circle screeched and the golden light of the sun was overpowered by green as thousands of people were deprived of their lifeforce at the same time.

Apotho laughed manically as it all flowed towards him, entering his body. His spine straightened, the frail body under the robe expanded, lean muscles returned. More and more hair grew from his almost bald head, turned a bloody red, and grew until it reached his shoulders in a combed back tide. Age spots shrunk and vanished, making room to smooth, pale skin.

The rejuvenated man gripped the brown robe that Gizmo had loved for its simpleness and tore it from his body like a prison. Nothing of the loose skin and wrinkles remained, only a body at the prime of youth with defined muscles. A man of clear beauty, charisma, yet with a sinister look in his light blue eyes.

And in the distance, there was that giggle again. "Ah, my lover has returned to me," the sultry voice gasped as the people collapsed. It was a painless death, as Apotho had promised. Deprived of all lifeforce, they crumbled and what hit the floor was nothing but dust and empty clothes. The man of Deathless Greed redirected the flow of energy into an invisible point in the air.

"Stop watching, Jolene, and show yourself," the Warlock demanded, "You have watched long enough to see if I succeed." His command was heeded. A hole tore open, the shape of an eye. A red, flat piece of distorted reality, with a pale, slit pupil. A pupil that reshaped itself moment by moment into the shape of a woman.

Legs swung out of the portal, pale skin parting a black dress. They gave rise to an alluring figure, wide hips, narrow waist and an ample bosom, all hidden under that black satin. Although her body was attractive beyond realistic means, her face was absolute perfection. Everything was symmetrical, everything looked perfect. Her pale skin seemed to glow from within, auburn locks framed her face and green eyes looked with a longing at everything.

So intense was this that even Apexus felt a shiver of desire even as this woman landed gracefully in the dust of thousands. The ritual concluded; the particles of the gem streamed towards this woman. The particles formed the nails of her hands, of her feet and the sharp swing of her eyelashes. Obsidian black around the red of her sclera. Deep red lips parted in a seductive smile.