Lost Bloodlines Ch. 06

I pushed myself forward onto my hands and knees, my weary muscles protesting, and choked back a sob as I looked at the fiery remnants of the bus. Any second I expected some indestructible monster to knock their way out of the wreckage, but no movement came. I merely watched as the twisted metal burned, screams and shouts coming from every direction except where I needed to hear it the most.

Motion caught my eye from the raised embankment that divided the two lanes of the highway, and I turned my head towards it. Standing at the top of the ridge, several dozen figures stood, half wearing the camo of the Guard and the other half in plain clothes. All were armed, and notably I saw a duo of figures begin to reload a bulky rocket launcher.

Red consumed my vision, and fire burned throughout my veins. I rose to my feet slowly, my eyes fixated on the murderers before me. My claws twitched as a deep and powerful rage consumed me, and the only sound in my head was the pounding of waves and the goading whispers of the monster in my head. I wasn't listening to her, however. The only thing that mattered to me in that moment was the burning wreckage of that bus. That little furred head poking out of the window. The dozens of men and woman who had died in an instant, because of a bunch of religious zealots couldn't comprehend that they used to be human.

They needed to pay. They needed to hurt, to die, to be ripped to shreds. Someone needed to punish them. I felt an itching in the palms of my hands, and the heat in my veins migrated into my arms. Acting on instinct, I slowly raised my hands, and I saw as someone on the ridgeline noticed me at last. Gunfire began to pound into me, but I ignored it. The palms of my hands began to ache, as if spikes had been driven into them, but the pain was nothing to the roiling maelstrom in my head. They needed to hurt. They needed to die. They needed to burn!

I screamed, and I felt something within me give, the tension in my body bursting forth as a roiling inferno of black fire. The flames flowed from my outstretched hands in an unending torrent, the flames eagerly crossing the road and flowed up the dividing hill. I smiled bitterly as the embankment was entirely consumed in the blaze, the wave of fire rolling over the edge to immolate the soldiers perched there. The screams of men filled the air, and I swept my arm to the side, blanketing the entirety of the hillside in the wicked black flames as a group of Militia men tried to flee from the fire.

The power and heat flowing through my body was a heady combination, and I felt a grim satisfaction as the hellfire consumed everything in its path. I felt locked into place by the deadly conflagration emerging from my anger and grief, unable or unwilling to make the flames stop.

And yet the torrent lasted less than a minute, and I collapsed to my knees as the inferno halted, feeling utterly drained. I watched in a mix of horror and awe as the flames danced across the barren landscape where men had once stood, and now only ash and bone remained. I didn't have the energy to move, and the sound of gunfire felt distant and unimportant as I gazed into the devastation I had caused.

Slowly my gaze drifted downwards and fell upon my hands, which were subconsciously clenching and unclenching in my lap. They were wreathed with lingering black flame, but I felt no heat. In truth I felt cold, drained of the anger and misery that had fueled me only moments before.

I don't know how long I knelt there, unmoving and uncaring, when I again saw movement on the hill. Stepping carefully through the ash and avoiding the remaining spots of flame was another squad, equipped much the same as the last. I struggled to my feet, watching in growing fear as another squad, and another, and finally the treads of a tank rolled over the embankment, heading directly for the unprotected flank of the convoy. To my right, the sound of gunfire was growing ever louder, and I could see the backs of a dozen men as they took cover behind one of the empty buses, an indistinct line of men and vehicles growing ever closer.

They had finally caught up to me.

I gathered the last reserves of my strength as I braced myself for the oncoming assault. Whatever that fire had been, it had taken almost everything I had to hold it for less than a minute. Nevertheless, there were still perhaps two dozen buses behind me, and I didn't know how many of them had been evacuated yet. Even if I had to spit fire until I passed out, they wouldn't get to them so easily.

Another group crested the embankment in the wake of the tank, this time Militia men. And of course, comically wearing a Kevlar vest over his robes, was Father Maxwell, wielding a sawed-off shotgun in one hand and a crucifix in the other. Standing amidst the fiery destruction, the fake exorcist truly looked like a crusading force of divine fury. At least, I imagine that how he saw himself in the moment. I was getting more of a Preacher on LSD vibe at the moment.

"The hell-spawn, at last!" his yell carried over the chaos around us. "Look, brethren of Christ! The Adversary appears at last. Show her the will of God! Purge these abominations from his sight!" The Militia around him gave a cry, and I even saw some of the Guard soldiers cheer.

I can't say I had Maxwell pegged as the demagogue type, but I couldn't deny that his fanaticism wasn't obviously compelling to his allies. New target it then. I breathed in deep, and pulled on the heat I felt lying dormant under my skin. I brought it to life as if blowing on embers, and the raging fire returned, thrumming through my body with barely-suppressed power. Even in my exhaustion I felt exhilarated, and as the first gunshots were fired down at my exposed form, I released the wave of hellfire once more.

Except as the flames billowed forth, they came to an abrupt stop, crashing against some invisible barrier like waves against a tide wall, the black fire spewing high into the air and back into the lanes of the highway. I watched, flabbergasted, as the deadly flames were completely blocked, the descending army unscathed. I let the stream of flame dwindle into nothingness, and the apparent source of their protection was revealed.

Maxwell's crucifix was held aloft in one trembling hand, its bright metal glowing brightly as if lit from within. As my jaw dropped, the priest let out a triumphant cry. "The power of the Lord abhors her very presence. See how her infernal power is stripped away in his light!" Again, the soldiers let out a cheer, and I was thrown back as an explosion erupted immediately in front of me, slamming my back into the twisted wreckage of the bus. I watched, ears ringing, as the tank's turret aligned with my body, and readied myself for the pain I knew was coming.

They may not be able to kill me, but I'm pretty sure I can still be crippled...

In the subsequent moments, however, the blast never came. I heard a cry from somewhere high above me, and my eyes caught a flash of metal as something streaked down from the heavens. The triumphant sneer of Maxwell shifted to a gasp of agony as a spear of shining silver pierced through his body. His armored chest was of no protection, and his crucifix fell limply from his hands as he slumped back against the spear holding him upright, dead.

I blinked in confusion, but then the pavement before me cracked as a large armored figure crashed down onto it, brilliant white wings spread and golden armor shining brightly in the afternoon sun. The Valkyrie turned towards me, and I saw the flash of deep blue eyes from behind her visor. It seemed the flanking force had fallen silent in response to Maxwell's sudden death and Victoria's triumphant arrival, but a terrifyingly deep bark caused everyone, myself included, to jump. Within seconds, a massive brown form smashed into the tank from my left, seizing its barrel within mighty jaws and tearing the entire turret from the tank with a savage twist of its head.

Soldiers and Militia screamed, turning their weapons on the oversized wolf in their midst, but in a flash, Victoria burst forward, tearing her spear from Maxwell's body and laying waste to the soldiers around her. With skill that appeared effortless, the teenager thrust and swung with the spear, knocking aside soldiers and skewering those who tried to open fire on what I assumed was Cyrilla's monstrous form as it began tearing into the Militia around it. I slumped back against the bus as my friends fought as if they were born for it, having no energy left in my body after my second attack. A shadow fell over me and I tensed, ready for another attack, but the face staring down at mine was lightly smiling.

"Victoria got tired of waiting," Draco spoke, his green-scaled form hunching over mine. To his right and left were two figures I didn't immediately recognize, a man and a woman wearing prisoner uniforms, both excessively tall and with light-blue skin. They looked familiar, but I couldn't place them. "She ssaid it didn't feel right," Draco continued, "Leaving all the fun to you." He nodded towards the embankment, and I shifted my attention. As Victoria and Cyri rampaged in the middle, a line of monsters was attacking their left flank, fighting with tooth and claw, in both monstrous and human forms. I saw a ripple of ethereal blue flame spill over the lines of soldiers, and had a feeling that Hae was putting her anger to good use.

"We've got bigger problems," I gasped out, pointing to where the blockade was steadily advancing on our position. "Agent Riley is up there somewhere." Please let her still be up there.

Draco merely nodded, his expression remaining impassive. "It'sss why I brought friendsss." He gestured to his two unknown companions before turning, and walking purposefully towards the front line. As he crossed into open territory, his body shifted, rapidly putting on mass as his clothes tore, and brilliant green scales were exposed to the sun. Within seconds, where he once stood was the immense figure of a dragon, dwarfing everything else around us, his lofty wings reaching above even the treetops flanking us. With a deafening roar, he charged forward in the direction of the blockade.

His two companions looked at each other once, gave me a nod, and strode after the dragon. With each step, they grew larger, their forms remaining unchanged. Within three steps they were each roughly 20 feet tall, their naked blue skin and stark white hair a stunning contrast. With loping gaits, they caught up to Draco as he spit forth a massive fireball, engulfing a barely-visible squad of National Guardsmen. The massive man reached down, lifting an APC almost as long as he was tall, and lobbing it at the blockade, a tank crushed under its massive weight.

"Jötunn," I breathed. Frost Giants. I watched as a tide of monsters crashed over the attacking force, Militia and Guardsmen scattered alike under their untrained but zealous attacks. Within minutes the flanking force had been routed, crippled, or killed entirely, and what seemed like an endless tide of monsters sprinted forward to join in Draco's assault on the main force. For every monster that fell to panicked gunfire or an errant explosion, ten made it to the frontlines, and though I could not see the devastation they wrought firsthand, by the screams that had filled the air I could imagine their impact.

"Hey," a quiet voice spoke, and I turned my head from the chaos of the frontline. Victoria stood over me, leaning heavily on her spear. She had lost her helmet somewhere along the way, her red curls matted with blood and her eyes were almost crazed in their intensity. Wearily, I pushed myself back to my feet, staggering forward and enveloping her in a hug. I was clutching her for stability as much as providing comfort, but she dropped her spear and shield, wrapping her arms back around me as I heard the beginning of a sob break free from her mouth.

"I'm okay," I whispered weakly. I stroked a hand through her sticky hair. "Thank you for saving me." She just nodded into my neck and held me tighter, her sobs growing louder as what had just happened finally soaked in for the Valkyrie. Given her practiced and flawless massacre, I assumed that the same instinctual fighting ability took control of her just as it did me, but she hadn't had the luxury of truly experiencing it before as I had. I let her hold me tightly as the sounds of battle began to fade, and after a final triumphant roar broke out from a certain overgrown lizard, the highway finally fell silent.

I felt a shiver run through my spine and a voice spoke. "Sorry I missed all the fun, but somebody still can't quite stand on their own yet." Victoria and I separated, and saw Sam holding a tired looking Aqua in his arms. The angel was untouched by the grime and blood the rest of us had somehow picked up in the melee, but I could tell that his casual smile was forced as his eyes kept glancing over the broken bodies covering the embankment.

Aqua held up her little board, tapping it insistently in our direction. "Are you okay!!!???" it read, and both Victoria and I exchanged a look before nodding, and Aqua's relieved smile made the horror of it all somehow more bearable. Alana's large form slithered up behind Sam, her aristocratic nose crumpled in distaste as she took in the carnage all around us. She opened her mouth to speak, but shrieked as a massive brown body leaped into our midst. Cyrilla shook like a wet dog, blood and dirt showering us as we all gasped. The wolf regarded us with a grin that was, well, wolfish, before shifting back into her human form. Her very naked, human form. I closed my eyes a second too late, but that mental image would be forever scarred in my memory. I never thought I could be made to feel inadequate again, but everything on Cyrilla's overly masculine and large body was...proportional, let's just say.

"Your clothes are in the pack," Sam merely said, and Cyri nodded awkwardly before rummaging around in the backpack on Alana's back and dressing herself. He seemed the only one unfazed, Alana's ebony face the deepest shade I had ever seen it as she blushed.

As Cyri dressed herself, I tugged at Victoria's arm. "I need your help, there's something on the embankment I need to check." She looked unwilling to go back onto the burned hellscape, but she nodded her agreement, letting me put an arm around her shoulder as I limped forward. It took several minutes of searching, but eventually I found what I was looking for, hidden under a layer of ash and partly beneath a body. Maxwell's crucifix, an object that had done nothing to me the last time I had seen it, but could now block a full torrent of hellfire. Its shine was untarnished despite the grit of its surroundings, and I reached out a hand.

Don't touch it directly, a tired voice whispered in my mind. My fingers stopped an inch away from the metal. I looked around for a moment, spotting Maxwell's fallen form nearby. I stumbled over to it and sheared off a length of his robe with a talon. This I used to carefully wrap up the cross and finally pick it up.

It seemed so harmless like this, but the mystery of its power was something I wanted to get to the bottom of eventually. "I'm done here!" I called out to Victoria, and she quickly rejoined my side, refusing to look anywhere in the direction of priest's corpse.

"What is it?"

"A crucifix. I figured that maybe someone would be able to tell me how it works when we get to the Seats." I shrugged. "Never had an issue with crosses until now." She just stared blankly at the cloth-wrapped bundle in my hands and I sighed. I placed a hand on an armored shoulder and steered her back to the road. I tried to fight down the rising nausea in my throat every time my foot nudged against a body or Victoria's boots slipped on something wet and fleshy on the ground.

Some part of me knew that we wouldn't get out of this unscathed, but judging by the shock and horror etched onto Victoria's face, perhaps I had underestimated the psychological toll. She'll be okay. It's Victoria. She always bounces back. She'll be a bombastic ray of sunshine again in no time.

Or maybe I was kidding myself.

"Lilith!" a voice cried out from the road. I jerked my head, and Arthur and what remained of his squad was jogging over in my direction. I admit, just the image of their dark uniforms caused me to tense up for a moment, Victoria halting her gait as she felt me lock up. I just shook my head at her questioning glance, and pushed myself off of her, trying to stand on my own power again.

"What is it, Arthur?" I asked, finding my balance.

Arthur came to a stop before me. He looked weary, bleeding from several cuts on his face and holding his left arm awkwardly, but the helpful soldier was still intact. "It's Special Agent Riley," he spoke quietly. I tensed again, waiting for the worst.

Except he cracked a tired smile, and his next words held some dark humor. "She's still kicking. Asked me to come find you. Believe her exact words were 'Go find the demonic bimbo. Tell her I need a hand.'"

I couldn't help the relieved gasp that escaped my lips. Maybe someone upstairs was listening. "Where is she?" I pressed.

Arthur just jerked his head towards the front of the convoy. "I'll take you to her." I glanced behind me, but the rest of my friends were right behind us. Aqua, still held in Sam's arms, offered an encouraging smile, and I followed after the soldiers as best I could. We wound our way through the battlefield debris left over, between flaming or bullet-ridden buses, and avoiding groups of wounded or resting soldiers, their eyes following us the whole way.

We reached what had become the front line within minutes, perhaps five rows of buses down from the original defensive cordon. Draco's massive green form was resting on the embankment, keeping a watchful eye over the few remaining Militia and Guard who had surrendered and were being watched by several groups of Army soldiers. His Jötunn companions were nowhere to be seen, but I couldn't see any large blue bodies either, so I hoped they were okay. The monsters who had joined the front line were walking into the woods, likely to gather up the others that were hiding there. Either that or they were escaping. I can't say I would blame them.

"Here she is," Arthur spoke. We entered the empty space between two mostly-intact buses, which was rapidly being transformed into a makeshift infirmary. A few harried medics ran haphazardly between bodies of soldiers and monsters in varying degrees of injury, treating what they could. And that's where I found our illustrious leader, sitting up against the side of a bus and still barking orders to a waiting group of Army officers who had survived.

Half of her body was blocked by the throng, but I was happy just to see her alive, so I waiting for her little debrief to conclude before stepping forward. As the officers cleared away, it became immediately apparent why she was here. I gasped, falling to my knees by her side as I took in the hastily bandaged stump where her left forearm had been.

"'Tell her you need a hand!?'" I almost yelled as my greeting. "That's not fucking funny Riley!"

She looked over to me, and her bloodshot eyes warmed. She cracked a pained smile. "I don't know, I think it's hilarious."

I just gaped at her. "How the hell are you still conscious? You're missing an arm!"

"Probably all the morphine they pumped me with," she stage-whispered to me, and then giggled. She fucking giggled! "I kinda also got shot." She pointed towards her torso, and sure enough, her tattered suit jacket had a ragged hole in its breast. "Kevlar got it though. My right tit still hurts like a bitch."

"I...I'm sorry I wasn't there," I said back to her. "I should've been there to shield you. I..."