Was not my choice,

  not my will.

  I meant no hurt,

  wanted not to kill.

  It was supposed to be fine,

  a thrill, a sport, a rush.

  No consequence from my actions,

  not another soul to crush.

  This cause, this feel,

  the emotions that were real.

  To see your face,

  behind that cloth.

  Behind that cloth,

  I hadn’t known,

  my heart, the veil concealed.

  A lamb, a deer, I feel and hear.

  The love I didn’t need was near.

  I knew your face.

  I knew your fear.

  The love I knew not,

  I needed it not,

  was here.

  Those eyes are mine.

  Mine nose and mine name.

  Such a tiny thing,

  yet it brings so much shame!

  Innocent eyes.

  This love, I knew, was mine.

  My creation.

  My mistake.

  A lamb, a deer, I feel and hear.

  The love I didn’t need was near.

  I knew your face.

  I knew your fear.

  The love I knew not,

  I needed it not,

  was here.

  If I had known, I could have fought.

  If I had just listened,

  this pain that we’d wrought,

  could have been naught!

  Oh, sweet child,

  the best of luck.

  Oh, sweet babe,

  the things that I gave.

  I made you, I love you.

  I’ll surely just give you,

  to those that would love you and care.

  A lamb, a deer, I feel and hear.

  The love I didn’t need was near.

  I knew your face.

  I knew your fear.

  The love I knew not,

  I needed it not,

  was here.

  I leave you because I love you…

  I love you because I left you…

  Yet, I tell myself you’re fine.

  I tell myself you’re mine.

  And I turn and walk away.

  Oh God,

  I walk away…

  I just turn and walk away…

  ~The Mistake We Wished We Had Owned, a song

  ~Feldyn Goldchord, the Endless Bard

  * * *

  “The Echoes of Aethra might be real?” Iiyni had to admit it made sense. It made a lot of fucking sense. Jen’taa’yi nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. In all honesty, it never even occurred to me until I read Rarami's note.” Iiyni was pacing back and forth in the remains of X’al’antra’s mansion. She was a bit peeved that her aunt had pulled off so much right under her nose. “And Ra-ra’s note said not to kill any of the hero cunts? Specifically referring to them as Esseff?” Iiyni asked, without looking at her sister. The note had been very clear about not killing the Dragonheart, or any of the Esseff with him. It had further stated not to trust their aunt, and to beware the Echoes. “Yes.”

  “Jenta, you know prophecies much better than I do,” Iiyni conceded, stopping her pacing. “Any idea where this all fits? What Auntie might be planning?” Iiyni’jeari’eea was not too proud to ask for advice, nor foolish enough to think she didn’t need it. No matter how powerful you were, or how much you knew, there was always someone stronger, and someone smarter. Even the weak and stupid could sometimes see things their betters did not. “... We know of her Antioch obsession, and that the Terrors are only mentioned in the Ulteare. I think she is somehow using the Ulteare to fill in the blanks of the Kurtin Black.

  “From what I can remember, there is mention of the Dragonheart losing his heart, betraying his comrades, and becoming a pawn of Antioch. I think that might be her endgame, though how it ties with the Terror prophecies, I'm not sure. I also believed the Kurtin Black and Ulteare to be mostly illegitimate ramblings,” Jenta admitted. The Ulteare was little more than an archive of 'prophecies' that effected the demonic. Many have come to pass. Many more had proven to be horse shit. The Kurtin Black was more ordered and believable, being a list of counter or dark prophecies, that happened on Earth, and Aethra. Though they too had been given little credibility. Prophecies involving Aethra specifically, were rare and not well know. The Echoes of Aethra? That was more of a legend. Mumbo jumbo used to fear monger or sew what ifs.

  “She knew we wouldn't look deeper into her bullshit,” Iiyni pondered out loud, and Jenta agreed. It was a safe assumption. “So,” Iiyni’jeari’eea asked, “If you were her, why would you be doing this?” Jenta tilted her head to the side in thought. Brief thought; as she had been putting a lot of thought into this already..

  “To kill you, and make the Dragonheart my own, before returning with him to Aethra,” she answered bluntly. “Yeah, kinda figured as much,” Iiyni grumbled. FUCK, this was bad. If it was really the Dragonheart (which was insane to accept existed, especially if it was that douchey turd) hanging on the wall, and the Echoes were real, it meant Xal could act with impunity. The angels wouldn’t intervene unless she was on the verge of something like blowing up the planet. Still, just standing around waiting for the gate to open, was all kinda of stupid, on many levels.

  “We need to go back down there, and get Zit,” Iiyni told her. “Be prepared for anything. You even feel a tingle of something holy, get as far away as you can, I'll be right behind you. And if the gate does open, we go through it, regardless of what cunt-face tells us. We are done with this rock, and all the prophecy bullshit.” Jenta couldn’t agree more. They needed to put as much distance between themselves and this whole situation as possible

  * * *

  “A familiar?” Ally asked, sounding skeptical. “The hell is that?” Stryker also asked, and was ignored. “Yes, Ally, a familiar.” Feldyn responded, sounding snotty, which was unintentional. “Only, in this context, calling him a familiar is a bit, well, racist. He is a tikirin, and they were forced into servitude, forced to bind with their masters, and forced to be their familiars. Until they were... mostly liberated, not long ago.” Feldyn looked ashamed. “Lance only bound himself to me to save my life.”

  Bryan scowled, “Why have we not seen him before?” Feldyn sighed dramatically. Why was he even bothering to conceal anything anymore? “I had not exactly intended to make friends with any of you! Lance stands out in his appearance, so has stayed hidden. He also is keeping the things of magic we came to this world with shielded.” Pazely was about to inquire on that, when Bryan cut her off, “The manastorms. The manastorms started happening because of magical items from your world.” Feldyn was surprised he got that so quickly. “They were causing some, yes. Trying to contain the mana was a bit of a strain on Lance, and occasionally it would leak, causing a storm. We decided he would remain hidden indefinitely, to better his focus.”

  “Invisible?” John finally spoke, taking Feldyn’s attention. “Aye. Lance, like all tikirin, is a psionic. Not so unlike yourself. Only, Lance is special. He is a link, after all, like myself. Where your own prowess may be in combat, Lance’s fall elsewhere. His ability to cloak himself in invisibility is so great, not even the demons we have faced could sense him.”

  Feldyn knew the questions were going to continue, and they were increasingly short on time. “I am sorry, and you can all question me at length later. Right now, we truly need to hurry, before it’s too late.”

  “What about Lance?” Gigi chirped, concerned for the one she had never met. “Since my panic has abated, I realize he should be unharmed,” Feldyn answered, embarrassment momentarily crossing his features. “If he were to die, or was critically injured, I would most assuredly know. A consequence of our binding.” Feldyn shrugged sheepishly. It was true, and he felt ridiculous just now realizing. “Well, whatever,” Ally said dismissively. “How are we going to save Caleb, and keep a damn Hell gate from opening?”

  “I still have no clue what the fuck a familiar is…” Stryker complained. “IT’S LIKE A DAMN WIZARD’S PET!” Pazely screamed at him. “Fuck, I was only asking…”

  “Enough!” John commanded, exasperated, but smiling slightly. “The gate could open at any moment, we need to act." At that, all their eyes again fell to the bard. He stood staring blankly, struggling to organize his thoughts and emotions. “We need to separate the enemy. There are more than enough of us, and we have displayed our inability to fight as a larger group quite brilliantly, so smaller parties should be advantageous for us.

  “Masque, John, Ally, and myself will head straight to the Rock. Bryan and Pazely will sneak around using the dike, in a sort of pincer; not to engage, but to wait. Stryker and Gigi will stay here and guard Reba until she wakes, and then join us.” Feldyn surveyed the group; none were buying it, nor were they denying it. “Once close we will cause some type of distraction," he continued quickly, "If done right, it may provide Bryan and Pazely an opportunity to sneak in, get Caleb, and get out.

  "Unfortunately, I see no way around us confronting the Terrors. Individually I believe they can be defeated. We just need to separate them. The biggest threat are the imps.”

  “I doubt they will be a problem,” Masque deadpanned. “Yeah, I don’t think so either,” Pazely chirped. “It was an imp that took Caleb, and almost killed me and Feldyn, right?” Ally asked. “How is that not a problem?”

  “It is difficult to explain,” Masque answered her. “They seem to have differing motives than the Terrors. One let me live shortly before I found you and Feldyn, poisoned.” He looked to John, “The same one we encountered the night I searched for Reba, after the blood moon.”

  “The imp Masque refers to,” John explained, “is also the same one that allowed Reba and myself to escape before they destroyed our home.” He winced at the word home, having said it reflexively, not realized he had subconsciously viewed it so.

  “Kiki saved me from the zombies after I washed up on shore,” Pazely added. “They didn’t stop us when we came to save you, either,” Stryker pointed out to Feldyn, taking his turn in explaining the odd actions of the imps. “Bryan and I were in the same room as all three of ‘um, and they basically just ignored us.”

  "And a gargoyle tried to take me," Paze included. "Maybe they want me alive too?" she didn't sound convinced.

  “Alright then!” Feldyn tried to add cheer to his voice, failing miserably as it cracked instead, inducing a round of giggles. “Gather weapons, but leave the supplies here.” He saw a lot of unhappy and unsatisfied faces, but no one voiced an objection. He couldn’t blame them. Running out to engage enemies with little to no protection, nor proper means to defend one’s self… was getting tiring. And a bit redundant. At least Masque recovered the majority of their equipment that had been dropped during the bridge battle. “We leave in one minute.”

  “And my role in all of this?” Ally asked Feldyn, as everyone not so energetically began gearing up, John moving to Reba's side with Stryker. “Ally-"

  She cut him off, “No magic from me, right? I don’t like it, but I get it. What I don’t get is why you are putting me in the main group of fighters.” He was so taken aback at her words, his eyes unintentionally looked over to Masque, before going back to Ally’s own. She immediately understood. He’s bringing me as food. Wonderful. “Gives a whole new meaning to being objectified,” she smiled softly and walked away from him to go talk to Gigi.

  Feldyn felt like piece of shit. His intent was for Masque to fight X’al’antra, and knew if he said that now, Masque may panic. Also, the vampire would need to feed before the fight, and Feldyn couldn’t spare any blood before he too was to fight. John? He was fairly sure the old man would have refused, regardless.

  “I have a question,” Bryan said, walking over to the half-elf. “That thing that you do? Moving really fast? That’s not magical, right?” The group’s attention was taken again, and again Feldyn was struggling to organize his thoughts. “Aye, it is done with Trell physics. Sadly, I do not see how that would be of use to anyone here.” Bryan frowned, “Why?” he asked, not sounding argumentative. They were desperate and afraid. Feldyn owed them at least the chance to be able to defend themselves in every way possible.

  “Trell physics,” Feldyn began, “are named after the gnome physicist who discovered them. He was trying to find the science of mind over matter, or in many ways, faith. Walking on water, if you will, without the magic or the miracle. And he discovered Trell physics.” He knew they were going to ask more, so continued explaining, “It works very much like faith – you just do it. Think of it like walking. You don’t consciously think of each action you take, or how you take it, you want it to happen and you do it.

  “Moving like you have seen me do, is called quickstepping. It is theorized demons, and some other beings, have an innate understanding of Trell physics, and is how their movements can defy logic. I fear I cannot give better detail than that, only that the utilization of it is quite rare. Many have spent their entire lives attempting to achieve a simple quickstep."

  "And when you were, um, worried about your friend, how did your voice do that?" Bryan asked next. Feldyn cocked his head, frowning. The boy explained, "you spoke in another language, but it had... background sounds or something. It was, tinkley sounding, like delicate chimes that made me think of snow or ice, for some reason." Feldyn laughed softly in understanding. "Aye, that, that was an elvish dialect. The sounds are made by a uniqueness of elven anatomy."

  With no further questions, and everyone ready as they could be, the bulk of the group left Gigi, Stryker, and Reba inside the building. Once on the road, Bryan gave a cheesy salute, and Paze flipped Ally off, before the two walked down the dike, past the remains of the hell crab, which was little more now than a pile of goo.

  The remaining quartet headed off to a road several blocks over from the dike. They were quiet and tense, nerves anticipating enemies in every shadow, behind ever building. There was no point in being discreet, wanting to draw attention. There was also no point in negativity or fear.

  None had so much as uttered a single goodbye, or even hinted at a farewell. Why? Because this was it! It was do, or die trying! They all had to believe that when this day was done, every one of them would be back together. Despite everything that had happened, they had all managed to survive so far, hadn’t they? Surely their luck would hold out through the rest of the day, and see them all to a much deserved victory, back together, alive, and in one piece.

  … Wouldn’t it?

  * * *

  Caleb hung there in silence. What could he say? Even from here, the infant with raven black hair… he just knew. He could just feel… that she was his.

  She is going to die now because of you!

  'That… really is my daughter…'

  Caleb, you must then heed my words!

  You deserve to burn for what you did! Your soul is damned!

  'No… please, don’t hurt her! Please, God, don’t let them hurt my baby!'

  Christ forgives all! If you love your baby, listen to me, you foolish boy!

  He did not care what the voices were saying. It didn’t matter. With what all he had done… It was unforgivable! The ways he had acted, his decisions, choices; he deserved to die. Looking at his baby girl… Caleb knew they were going to kill her. They were going to kill his daughter. And it was his fault. Why bother praying. It was hopeless.... even though.... 'No, please, God. Don't kill her, don't kill my baby!'

  “Nothing?” X’al’antra asked the speechless boy hanging from the wall. “No matter.” She handed the bundle over to Suzie. “Belle’anne!” X’al’antra snapped loudly, and the black lycanthropeire, fully healed, bound over the ridge of the canyon to stand before her. “We are set to begin. You know what to do.” The beast turned and started to run away - Iiyni’jeari’eea and Jen’taa’yi hopping over the ridge on the other side, landing not far in front of the beast.

  “Did I tell you to stop?” Xal asked, her tone not amused. “Go.” Belle didn’t wait another moment. Ignoring the commands of her imp master telling her to stay, she jumped back over the artificial canyon wall, and left.

  “What the fuck?” Iiyni snarled, glaring at her aunt. “Watch your tone with me, you little bitch. Have you forgotten what’s yours is mine?” X’al’antra then extended her right hand; catching a charging Iiyni by the neck, halting her momentum effortlessly. “Summoner. Me.” Xal said each word slow and deliberate, looking her niece in the eyes. “Now be a good slave, sit down, AND SHUT UP!” X'al'antra's voice dropped to a deep demonic rumble, before she threw Iiyni into the wall of the canyon.

  Jenta hadn’t moved. Her sister knew better than to be provoked like she just had. Jenta was not going to risk all three of their lives by supporting her sister’s foolishness. Iiyni understood, and agreed of course; climbing out of the hole her impact had created in the wall, doing her best to not show the severity of the injuries that caused, while the internal damage rapidly healed. The urge to hit that bitch of an aunt in the face had been too great. Whoops, her bad. Sliding to her butt, leaning against the canyon wall, she did her best to look pouty, hoping to reduce the agro. What was important was biding time until the gate opened.

  Ki’yi’xyit came running into the canyon at all the noise, stopping near Jenta, looking confused, surveying the situation. She wisely chose to keep her mouth shut. Zit might be a fucking idiot, but she wasn’t a -total- fool. Something was up. Something serious. Nini was pretending to be defeated, and Jenta was acting way too calm.

  With a clap of his hands, “Let’s do this already!” Larry said, sounding impatient. He had been waiting for this for years- fuck, for his entire life! An actual Hell gate! Access to the netherworld! He might only be a quasi-demon, but with access to the Hells, he could easily find a way to make his blood pure, and become a full demon! True immortality!

  The other two Terrors did not object, though they shared a knowing smile. Both females stood on either side of where the platform rose, which did just that. Vampire and witch queen rose alongside it, unaided by anything other than their own power.

  Caleb’s breath felt more ragged than ever, the two Terrors in front of him now. Suzie set his baby girl on the rising platform, which had risen to just below chest level for the floating females. He felt like he was going to vomit. Again. “You fucking bitches!” he growled, and Shuzariel looked at him, both hands to her sides, palms up like she was going to shrug. Then, her hands turned black and brown; fingers elongating, each one curving into nearly two-foot long, wicked-looking talons.

  Give up. God has abandoned you. Your salvation revoked.

  'This can't be happening!'

  Listen to me! You need to name your baby! Do it, do it now!

  Suzie delicately removed the cloth covering his little girl with one long pointed fingerclaw. Both of his more or less ex-girlfriends were smiling like it was some hysterical meme, as Caleb snarled and struggled against his bindings. Suzie traced a claw tip up to just under the baby’s chin, and Caleb heard her coo a little. Xal had to laugh. She couldn’t believe Caleb was breaking down like this! He looked more like he was going to start crying! She thought he had a bit more strength of spirit. Ah well, she'll have plenty of time to harden his heart.

  The angel Gigi called Namey had had enough. All of his calls were still going unanswered, nor could he hear the others. The angel was positive it was due to the Echoes. And also because of the Echoes, this unnamed babe's soul, upon being sacrificed, would have no angelic intervention to place it back within the Secret Place.

  A baby with a gray soul and no name, without intervention, could enter Limbo, or worse, depending on their type of death and situation. If their Christian (for despite his grievous mistakes, that is what Caleb was) parent named them, there was a good solid chance that even if dragged to Hell itself, that she would be protected! Otherwise, the child's soul would be fair game. Possibly Oblivion its fate, never to be renewed, reincarnated, or recreated.

  Nameless had to make a choice. A choice, that in any other situation, would have rendered him one of the fallen. The angel believed, in full, that the Lord God would not want an innocent soul to be so damned, even if that meant a little rule breaking! In this type of unforeseeable situation; an angel should act. To utilize their will without orders.

  With a silent request for forgiveness if wrong - Nameless took control of Caleb’s mind, and broke loose; no longer melding into the boy, but becoming an individual spirit within, if not still trapped. Nameless then shouted with every once of angelic grace he still had:

  ‘DAMMIT, CALEB, NAME YOUR LITTLE GIRL!!!’

  Caleb heard the good voice scream loudly in his mind. And, for the first time, could truly feel this voice’s presence, and he knew. He knew this voice he could now feel as a separate being, was an angel.

  The angel's shout focused him even more on the baby girl.. His baby daughter, that he would never get to hold. But he would still love! Without another thought, and by pure instinct, he called out to her.

  “Aiyaka!” It was the name he somehow knew. A name he had never before thought, or uttered. Yet, he knew it to be hers. And so did the baby. For a moment, just a moment, his heart filled with joy; his precious little girl turned to look at her daddy, fully noticing him for the first time, and smiled.

  That smile! Those eyes! My God, she is so beautiful! Caleb stared into Aiya’s eyes, so transfixed was he, that he forgot all pains and fear. She was perfect! He wanted to hold her, and stare at that tiny precious face for weeks.

  Suzie sliced the child open from chin to groin, Aiyaka’s eyes bulging in agony; torso falling open, entrails and intestines for all to see.

  The wail that escaped from the new dad’s throat completely drowned the noises of the child, her eyes face displaying an agony her tiny mind couldn’t comprehend. The witch uncoiled the baby’s intestines with her left claw, removing the still beating heart with her right.

  Caleb was grateful, as his lungs emptied of air, that his baby girl now lie motionless. Her suffering ended.

  And he went limp, eyes glazing over, his mind going numb.

  Even still, he was unable to fully take his focus away from what was happening before him. From his daughter. Eviscerated. Face a death mask of pain so horrific, it can not be expressed or explained.

  Just experienced.

  Both queens began chanting, Suzie flinging intestines over her shoulder, while still holding the heart. The droning hum of their combined chant intertwined into one nauseating note. With a sudden cry, they stopped, and Shuzariel threw that innocent heart into a bowl Larry held below them. Larry promptly spat a blob of bloody mucus atop the tiny muscle, finalizing their ritual.

  Barely leaning his head back in time to dodge, Larry looked amused at the stream of filth erupting straight up from the bowl, shooting a couple dozen feet into the air, before dying down to only bubbling. Larry turned and chucked the bowl into the wall at the dead end of the canyon to Caleb's right, shattering it.

  A loud noise, like a foghorn from the deepest of nightmares, cut through the air.

  “We did it!” Larry cheered. “We motherfucking did it! Wooo, yeah!” He pumped a fist and started hopping around, hooting and hollering. The filth from the bowl that had smashed, began bubbling out in a line, until it stretched the length of the wall it had hit, continuing to drip and run. The horn kept sounding one long note of dread. X’al’antra had a wicked grin, and Shuzariel was hardly able to contain her own excitement; the two still floated alongside the baby’s corpse.

  It stopped. The horn quit sounding its terrible cry.

  Larry’s cheers also stopped, momentarily confused; a brown wall shot straight into the air where the filth had dripped, stretching the entire length of the dead end, and going higher than the lip of the canyon. So fast, and so suddenly it rose, Larry almost fell.

  Suzie held up a taloned hand to block her face; a warm, foul breeze washing over her. Caleb was hardly registering any of it, all he wanted was to die. To die and join the daughter who, because of him, never got the chance to live.

  The air around the point where the filth splattered, started to boil, and drip, and seethe; the wall itself appearing to warp and move, like looking through waves of heat rolling from the asphalt on a sweltering summer day.

  Then, a bone-jarring, teeth-aching, mind-bending creaking noise, rolled through the air.

  * * *

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Feldyn’s group was moving quickly, despite the numerous delays from the many random encounters. Objects they passed had a wicked habit of trying to kill them. There was a good deal of zombies thrown into the mix as well. The only reason they were still managing to still move so quickly was thanks to Masque. Occasionally, too many would show up at once, forcing Feldyn or John to fight for a few moments, until Masque got a chance to hop over and end their battle.

  At one point a freaking car sprouted legs that looked like a birds out of its undercarriage, and had charged John, hood flapping, horn honking - and John went ninja on its ass.

  None of them had ever seen John fight; mostly he stayed back and shouted some psionic command or another, but didn’t physically involve himself. When the car attacked, he combined physical skill with psionic. All three had stopped to watch him, well, beat the crap out of a car. Which he did quite impressively. John didn’t even mind no one assisted, enjoying their reactions.

  The one most impressed by all of this was Ally. At first. After all the weirdness with the mana stuff, and almost dying, she was thinking more clearly. Watching Masque teleport all over the place, inanimate objects coming to life (like one of her favorite classic JRPGs, thank you emulators), and even zombies - it was all super cool! Until it wasn't. Zombies weren't even scary. Ally was beginning to wonder if she was just so emotionally beaten, it was impossible for her to feel normal. To feel anything.

  Ally's heart had thudded with sudden dread when sounds of destruction broke out back the way they had come, though it too faded, blurring into the rest of the whirlwind of numbed emotions. She wasn't sure how to react, and tried to catch the eyes of the rest of her group, who were busy fighting.

  When a faint voice, cried out in horrifying anguish, roughly in the direction of the Rock, the others noticed. “Was that… Caleb?” John asked, dispatching a zombie, and then whipping around to look back at the sound of an explosion, back the way they had come.

  Masque was a bit more occupied, having gotten ganged up on by a flamboyance of pink flamingos from someone’s yard. They were not harming him, there was just a lot. Though he too had glanced towards the Rock.

  Feldyn, who had been laughing at the flamingo spectacle, now wasn't sure where to be focusing his concern. The sounds of combat back near Stryker, the suffering cry near their destination, or on Ally, who was trembling, frozen in placed, tears streaming from eyes that were full of a deep unknown pain.

  Something had been lost. Ally felt it. Something... very important. Some... one. It didn't make sense. It hurt so bad, this loss, and yet she also felt... completed. Like the one ripped from her heart, was now at her side. It was haunting and devastating. Ally made eye contact with Feldyn, but before either could say anything a hideous, bellowing horn, filled the air.

  “Oh my God,” Feldyn's said in whispered exhale, mind emptying of everything but the truth of what this meant. We are too late! We are too bloody late! “Pray,” John's voice sounded just as panicked as Feldyn’s thoughts. “Quickly, join me in a circle, we must pray now!” Ally thought she had screamed when that sound first split the air. Honestly, she still wasn’t totally sure that she hadn’t. Regardless, she now knelt in their prayer circle in the road, already forgotten tears still fresh on her cheeks.

  “Pray for protection,” John instructed, voice no more nor less panicked. “Pray for all of us under the barrier! No matter what you feel or hear, do not stop until I say amen!”

  When the horn stopped, Ally, ever so briefly, hoped it was done. That miraculously the coming doom had been thwarted.

  And then a creaking noise, like a thousand nails on a thousand chalkboards, raked at their sanity.

  * * *

  After the others left, Stryker immediately started pacing. He had more than enough ammunition. The bandoleer of grenades was also well stocked, and strapped firmly across his chest. He was ready to rumble, as it were. Not knowing if he was going to need to, well, that was fraying his nerves to shit.

  He had been trying to seem like he believed in everyone, like he was okay with having the kids here. That was a lie as big as one Feldyn would tell. Stryker was appalled with himself for allowing Gigi to be in this mess. Yet, what could he do? Worse, Pazely, Ally, and Bryan were out there with no decent way to defend themselves, charging into the most dangerous situation any of them had ever been in, and he was just waiting around here!

  Why? To guard an unconscious Reba, and to keep Gigi out of immediate danger. Reba was one of the most badass of their entire group, and she had been taken out by one ball of fire! One fucking ball of fire! What would have happened if that spell had hit elsewhere?

  He guessed all it took was a single bullet, and the toughest of men died just like the weakest. Their luck had been so good, his mind had been filled with a false sense of security. It was hard enough to accept all this bullshit as real. So when they just kept living, Stryker got overconfident. Reckless. He would not make that mistake again. To protect and serve. That is what he devoted himself to. That is what he swore. That is what he must do.

  “Do you think we're gonna to be okay?” Gigi asked, breaking the silence. She sat swiveling on her stool, cow hoodie obscuring her eyes. Badly, so badly, he wanted to lie to the girl. To tell her they were going to be fine, and nothing bad was going to happen to any of them. That the hastily made paper tags John gave him, would work to hide them from demons. As he was struggling to decide what to say to her, Gigi abruptly lifted her head up. The child's eyes were wide, startled, and she opened her mouth in the beginning of a shout.

  With crack, bang, wump, the roof came down atop them; the lycanthropeire smashing through the ceiling of the city shop. Sonofabitch!!! The entire building ended up coming down as well, Stryker being lucky enough to not get pinned. Crawling on his belly and elbows the best he could, hearing the crashing and snarling of the large beast tearing through the rubble, he followed the visible light, quickly extricating himself from the fallen building. He ended up climbing out on the opposite side of the city lot from where the group had entered.

  His heart was slamming, the brief second he stood there felt much longer, watching the lycanthropeire flinging the rubble around, searching for its prey beneath.

  Stryker heard no screams. Either Gigi was being quiet and brave, or she was unconscious. Or worse. He did know one thing, and that was if he didn’t get the giant dog monster away from here, they were all dead.

  He couldn’t protect Reba when she had needed it, almost let the beast take her before. And God help him, the first night that he had encountered this monster, it was little Gigi who saved him. Saved them all. And the way she suffered! The way she had screamed! Masque wasn’t going to show up this time. And he would be damned if Gigi was going to… what did they call it… tank it, again! No, not this time!

  And so, Stryker decided. Today was the day he died. Not Gigi, or Reba, but him. And he was taking this fucking dog with him!

  Feet firmly under him now, Stryker looked at the big, oily, canine, smashing through the rubble. He was hoping that it would again prefer to target him over either of the girls buried in the rubble. “Hey, bitch!” he cried, and Belle’anne looked up at the blond officer, standing on the road that was the back gate access to the shop yard. “Come and get me!” he taunted. Without hesitation, she charged him; not expecting the gun the officer held to almost blow her leg off in one shot.

  'Hot damn, this gun is awesome!' he thought, and fired two more shots, which the monster dodged. Oh shit, she got fast! That was an understatement, as the beast was suddenly in his face. Stryker threw himself to the side, but didn’t entirely dodge the impact. Spiraling violently to the ground, the pain lance across his side.

  The beast was turning back around to lunge at him again, standing next to some parked cars. Stryker fired at one of the vehicles, hoping to ignite the gas tank. When the bullet ripped through the car like butter, gas spilling everywhere with no explosion, he cursed. Damn you, Hollywood! Hoping this worked, he fired again, skipping the bullet off the steel of the car and creating a spark, and only a spark- nothing lit or burned.

  The lycanthropeire appeared to be laughing at him. Laugh at this! he thought, trying to overcome the pain stealing his breath, and remove a grenade from the bandoleer.

  Then, the car he had been shooting, the ones to either side of it, and one other on the opposite side of the dog lady - inexplicably exploded.

  That may have made no sense, but right now, he needed to lead the demon as far from the two girls as possible, or kill it here. Back on his feet, he still took out one of the grenades, unpinned it -grimacing from the pain in his chest- and threw it at the bitch who was struggling wildly to get to stand

  The grenade popped into a cloud of purple, the dog, engulfed, screamed a very human sound. Stryker almost cheered when he saw the beast stumble from the cloud, burning and sizzling, most of its face melted away, large portions of it's skeleton visible. He almost cheered, because, as he watched, the dog was rapidly regenerating. It happened so quickly, that he almost didn’t drop to his belly in time to avoid the rushing lunge.

  Rolling, and scrambling around, gun in both hands and lying on his stomach, he shot, taking out one of the monsters back legs. Tossing another grenade for good measure, Stryker got back up. He shot again, but the beast crashed away into some houses. Stryker saw the leg was already regrowing on the giant beast, that rolled for cover.

  This… was not good. He was going to have to do a lot of damage and fast to take this thing down. Why the fuck was it suddenly healing so quickly?! It hadn’t been doing that before!

  Focusing his anger against the pain, Stryker ran away from the shop, and in the direction of the grocery store. He had to lead it away from the girls! Pain quickly overrode his angry determination, anxiety joining in, exacting to be torn apart at any second. With all that, and the severe difficulty breathing, at the sound of the Hell trumpet, Stryker wrote off as just some other weird bullshit. The horrible creaking noise that started when he reached the parking lot for the town’s only grocer, he did find curious, however.

  * * *

  The duo on the dike were making fast progress. Pazely masterfully followed Bryan’s lead as they ran and snuck from bush, to hill, to scrub tree, to rock. There were a lot of zombies, but that was all they had seen. Apparently, sneaking past the alchemically animated dead was much easier than one would think… Not that Bryan wasn’t already a master of creeping through the shadows. Pazely, not exactly a stealth lord, was a dancer. Following the lead of another was no different than learning new choreography or a quickly taught combo. Monkey see, monkey do; follow the leader, do what the dumbass in glasses is doing! Eventually they reached the largest sand dune this side of the dike. The same dune that Masque had first encountered Iiyni’jeari’eea behind, and only a few blocks distance from the Rock.

  Quite adept at running and climbing in sand due to growing up in this town, her legs still burned by the time they reached the top of the multi-story tall pile of gray sandy silt. The Rock was visible from here, and it indeed had a creepy dark mist going on. The top of this dune appeared to have no enemies, so the two got move pretty quickly, in a crouch, past the sage brush and scrub trees, to the far side.

  They fell to their bellies right before the sheer downslope on the far side. In the expanse of dike between them and the Rock, were dozens, maybe hundreds, of enemies. Zombies, ash-ghouls (Bryan and Pazely assuming they were demons), and dozens of boulders scurrying around on crab legs. Well… this put a chink in things. “What… the hell is that?” Paze whispered, and Bryan wondered which monster she was talking about, before following her gaze to an area left of the Rock, from where they viewed, the river being on their right. “What… the fuck?” he breathed.

  To the left of the Rock, which should have been the sewage treatment plant, the dike road, and for some asinine reason the ball field, was now what appeared to be some type of... amphitheater? Sunken into the ground, with partial roofing over the top.

  Someone cried-out in anguish, from the direction of the amphitheater. Was that Caleb? Unsure what action to take next, the duo remained where they were, watching and listening, waiting for another shout or scream.

  A loud, horrible, demonic, brass-sounding instrument split the air, and Pazely barely contained a scream, covering her ears. Bryan froze solid, dread washing over him. He knew they were too late. The gate to Hell was going to open. And a moment later, after a dozen questions from Pazely about what was happening, the horn quit. Then a new horrible, raking, scraping sound that set his teeth on edge, dominated the air.

  Bryan was shocked he was still able to speak, or form thoughts, let alone remember John’s warning. “Pazely,” he said, voice flat and hollow, “we need to pray.”

  * * *

  Lance had gotten knocked off of Feldyn's shoulder when he was hit by that crazy umbrella lightning of Ally's, but no damage done. He had been stretching his wings when the imp hopped over, and was almost caught in the insect swarm she cast. After that, his choice had been to stay with Feldyn or follow Caleb. The ultimate decision being to follow the Dragonheart. Nothing he could do for Feldyn and Ally, not that he was worried. Reba could fix the poison, once she caught up with them. What was vital was knowing where Caleb was taken.

  Staying near while Larry repaired the teen, Lance was quite tense, waiting for the Terror to do something bad to the boy. Instead, he didn’t seem to do anything other than heal him, and fix the bone sticking out of his arm. After Caleb was secured to the wall, Lance chose to do a little snooping, then hurry back to Feldyn. And what he found, and what he didn't find, was odd.

  There was a lot of gore, but not a single heart. The supposed prophecies John showed them clearly stated the number of hearts needed to open a gate. Where were they? Was John wrong? Even stranger, during his snooping, Lance came across X'al'antra holding a baby. At first, Lance expected it to be food, and had a bit of a moral panic. After observing the vampire queen, and how gentle she was with the child...

  Confused, and nothing he could do to help the infant, Lance decided it was time to return to Feldyn, and fill him in on things. Hopefully the baby would still be alive when they came to save Caleb.

  Lance then had a moment of really bad luck. Deep in thought, as he flew out of the macabre den of gore, he flew quite fast right into the side of one of the imp's head's, when she was hopping past him. The impact would have probably hurt, but the reflexive slap by the imp knocked him out cold before pain had a chance to register.

  When he awoke, his confusion was short lived; eyes focusing on the short haired imps face, who held him in two hands, arms extended in front of her. “What are you?” she asked in awe. He must have dropped his invisibility from getting knocked out! Panic took over, and Lance blasted her in the face with the most powerful psybeam he could muster.

  Zit’s head snapped back, the thin translucent beam glanced off it, and she stumbled. He blasted her with two more, and she fell to a sitting positions, knees in front of her, legs folded to the side. She also let go with her right hand - left now crushing him hard enough he could barely breath.

  “Are you Esseff?” she asked, skin stitching over the exposed skull his psybeams had caused. Surprised at the question, he didn't even attempt to respond. She squeezed tighter. “Are you a link or something?” The imp was starting to look insane, a grin spreading across her face. If Lance was going to die, he may as well be defiant about it. “Yes!” he squeaked and found it curious that even though he projected audible speech through his collar, it conveyed the fact he was being strangled. Albeit a bit more clearly than it would sound if using actual vocal cords.

  Ki’yi’xyit released her grip, and he fell to the ground, gasping. “Kay!” she announced, sounding rather stupid. “I’m glad you said so! I really, really wanted to kill you. Kinda sad I can’t now,” she frowned. Lance was at a loss, looking up at the obviously pouting imp. “You were knocked out for a while,” Zit continued. “I got tired of petting and licking you, so was really glad when you woke up. Then you hurt me! I don’t like being hurt!” Her bottom lip quivered.

  Lance actually felt kinda bad… That didn’t stop him from flapping his wings, and flying away as fast as he could! Nor did it stop Zit from pursuing. He did a good job of dodging her for a few seconds. He couldn’t blink, due to his inability to think straight. Invisible? That was easier, just took a little oomph to first turn.

  But of course, as soon as he turned invisible, the imp grabbed his tail, and flung him rather hard back into the ground.

  “Why are you running, and being so mean?” Zit asked, walking over to him. “I’m bored. I’m not gonna kill you, unless you piss me off. Sister told me not to. So let’s be friends, kay? I can get naked if you want! I'm clean down there, if you want to taste.” Flustered and flabbergasted, Lance just sat his butt on the ground, and stared up at her. “You’re gonna stay?!” she beamed. He glared. “Yay!” she clapped her hands.

  “So, what are you?!” The imp dropped to her belly to look him in the multi-colored eyes. Recoiling back, “I’m a tikirin,” Lance chirped adorably through his collar. Zit squealed quietly, and without warning, grabbed Lance and started licking his face furiously. What is wrong with this demon?!

  Ki'yi'xyit then perked up like she was listening to something. “Sorry, I gotta go! You better run, or I might come back to kill you!” and she threw him into a wall. Despite her words, the impact still felt a bit homicidal. Struggling to not lose consciousness again, having no bloody idea what the frick just happened, Lance managed to get airborne. After a... few failed attempts.

  Flying like he was drunk (he hated flying drunk…) Lancetron hurried up and out of the area near the amphitheater pit, barely remembering to go invisible, and needed to land in a tree to wait out a horrible dizzy spell.

  Caleb wailed loudly from back at the canyon.

  * * *

  All the pain and confusion Caleb was feeling began to get stirred around by the wickedly evil creaking noise vibrating the small canyon.

  Just as the teen manged to shake himself back to a proper focus, there was a pop-slap noise - and a small hot pink -with white streaks- cat (or large kitten), appeared in the air before him. It had red bat-like wings, and multi colored eyes; one eye multiple shades of blue, the other multiple shades of green. A fancy looking collar adorned its neck, with three jewels set in the front. “Run!” Lance squeaked at him in his high-pitched voice, mouth not moving.

  Squinting his eyes, he looked to the bindings holding Caleb, and shot an invisible, yet visible beam at each in turn, shattering them, sending Caleb skidding (more like flat falling) down the wall. Lance quickly turned and flew right above Aiyaka’s corpse, between a shocked vampire and witch queen.

  FWOOM! was the sound of the psyblast that exploded out from his tiny body in a spherical concussive wave, shattering the top of the pillar, reducing the corpse to pulp, and causing both queens to shield their eyes.

  'Caleb, get out of here, NOW!'

  This time, the boy didn’t question the command in his mind. Turning left, he ran, the creaking loud enough now to hurt his ears.

  'Oh Father who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name! Please protect your foolish servant, and this sinful boy, from the wash of Hell’s breath. Also protect the tikirin, Lance, that so selflessly risked himself to save us! My God, my Christ, protect us, allow us to live. Let the Dragonheart survive, even if my own existence must be wiped to Oblivion or cast to Hell!'

  Caleb heard the... voice (it’s an angel, right?) praying in his mind, and he didn’t feel the need to resist joining in. The other -demonic- voice was still there, but it was merely an itch in the background; the angel overpowering it. Caleb had no idea what was going on, or who that flying cat was, but from the sensation pulsing over his body, he knew very something bad was about to happen.

  Kiki and the taller imp appeared in front of him; as did the flying cat, in another slapping pop. Instinctively, Caleb rolled – FWOOM, Lance psyblasted between the two imps, with far more power than he had used previously. Ki’yi’xyit was thrown into the canyon wall, while Jen’taa’yi was knocked back towards the hell gate. Caleb also got caught in the blast, but due to him rolling, was sent tumbling towards the exit, getting only minor scrapes and bruises. Back on his feet, he continued running, exiting the small artificial canyon.

  'That will have to do!' Lance thought, panting. He had used almost every ounce of energy he had left to put enough power into that blast to knock the imps back. There was nothing else he could do here; he had to get back to Feldyn and the others! Making himself invisible yet again, he blinked away with another slap-pop.

  “He’s escaping!” Jenta yelled to a rather calm X’al’antra, who remained floating in place, watching with a curious glare. “He won’t get far,” was the vampire’s hand-waving response, before turning back to the far end of the now vibrating and blurred, canyon wall. Jenta was confused. All this trouble, and she doesn’t care if the Dragonheart runs off? Zit looked equally confused, and this time it was appropriate. Nini had not moved more than to stand, watching everything with concern.

  The creaking sound stopped.

  Shuzariel squealed quietly in delight, and Larry, obviously confused as to what was going on, gave a not-so-enthusiastic-sounding cheer. Then, the entire brown wall's mass -which was now obviously split in the middle like a doorway- suddenly warped into the features of dozens of screaming, tortured souls, their grief and suffering frozen for all time; immortalized forever within these two monstrous doors.

  Doors which soundlessly swung open.

  In one all-encompassing blast, the wave of madness and despair, the pain and agony of all those trapped within, boiled out and washed over all and everything. Trees shattered, and animals melted. Plants rotted, or dried and crumbled to dust, carrion insects swarmed from every nook and crevice.

  The Hell's breath had only lasted a moment, but the creatures that poured forth in its wake, kept coming. Larry stood his ground as the small figures rushed passed him. The slightest contact with one sent him reeling, though he did manage to keep his footing. Xal looked a bit puzzled herself, at the dozens and dozens of nekomata, racing from the open gate along the ground below her, and at the numerous harpies that flew past her and Suzie, where they still floated. The imps stood their ground, not caring about the lesser demons. Their focus was on the three figures standing immediately on the other side of the gate’s threshold.

  Larry had turned his back to the gate, studying the demons that had rushed from the gate. The ones on the ground were about the same size as the imps, but where the imps were -by human standards- cute, these beasts were anything but. They had nude, genderless torsos, and long scraggly hair of varying normal shades on their heads. They had hairless cat ears, to match their hairless tails. Their eyes were like a snake’s, their teeth were like needles; feet and hands having six digits each, not fingers or toes, but horrible talons.

  The winged human-bird demons were nasty. Old, leathery bitches, with sparse feathering on their torsos, revealing titties so ugly, they made Larry look sexy with his shirt off. There was liquid shit dripping from their asses, and what he could only assume was yeast from their gashes. Their heads were hairless, arms were feathered wings, legs resembling that of a hawk or other bird of prey.

  Harpies. This was his first time seeing them. And the others must have been nekomata. Lesser denizens of Hell. Larry had distinctly felt their strength. Lesser demons were still this powerful?

  “I swear, Rrimuok, if they hurt my fucking Dragonheart,” X’al’antra warned, voice not sounding concerned as her words would imply. A voice spoke behind Larry, and he almost screamed; the deep evil and weight of the Hell tongue crushed his thoughts, and sent him running a few steps, before steeling his will. “Common!” another -deep and throaty- voice snapped, Larry finally managing to turn around to see who was speaking. “They ain’t gonna kill your toy, X’al’antra. I don’t know what the fuck got them all riled up, but I made sure they knew your scent. Your Dragonheart is safe. If you marked him, and he isn't stupid enough to attack them.”

  Standing just inside the gate were three demons. Big demons. Larry guessed close to ten feet tall. They had large horns growing atop their heads and around their baboon-like faces, even their chins. Each was extremely muscular, their skin shades of red, sparse brown hair growing on their bare arms, chest, and legs. Their cloven-hooved feet and backwards-bending knees also had no coverings, nor did their large hands. The only clothing they each wore were loincloths, with some type of symbol on the front, as well as a cross-strap on their chests, to hold the humongous swords on their backs.

  Balor. These were not lesser demons. Balor were on the bottom tier of the greater demons!

  Iiyni was concerned. She hated to admit it, but she was. She knew these balor. They were from the Ckhit clan of mercenaries, who trained small armies of hellbeasts, and lesser demons. And they were good. Very fucking good. If her and her sisters were across the threshold in Hell, they could rip these mercs a new one, without much effort. Here on Earth? Those three would be a problem, and they were no doubt staying in the gateway to intercept the imps if they tried to cross. Still, only three… Xal had to know the imps would overpower them. There had to be something else on the other side of the gate, out of sight.

  Speaking of the other side, Iiyni wanted to groan at the landscape beyond. Beyond the gateway was a red sand desert; dunes rolling as far as the eye could see. The sky was orange, though with a tint of blood. Four moons could be seen in the starless sky, one green, one purple, and two red. Hell wastes! It would take days to weeks to get back home from any of the wastes on foot! That fucking, cocksucking, rotten twat of an aunt!

  Hell might be a parallel dimension to Earth, but hell gates were not tunnels. They simple provided a passage from Earth to Hell, but not directly stepping over. The gate would open on either side where it was anchored. Hell was a big place, and the Wastes were a general term for what was basically Hell's version of deserts. Nothing but sand, and occasionally rock. No water, no plants, no fucking shade.

  “What’s going on, Xal?” Larry growled, before anyone else could speak. He did a good job of hiding his fear. “Why the fuck didn’t I know about this?” he snarled, turning his back to the large demons in the gateway, to glare at the vampire queen. Who had now descended alongside the witch queen, to stand once again on the canyon floor. “What’s wrong, Thadeus? Concerned?” X'al'antra asked the ugly alchemist. The use of his birth name shocking him more than anything else going on.

  But it was the zombie king’s turn to surprise X’al’antra. He may seem like some stupid, greasy fool, but he was smarter than most could even fathom. It only took him a moment to start piecing things together after the use of his real name. “Edea,” he stated breathlessly. X'al’antra's eyes widened, “Well my my, I guess I forgot how quick you can be if you try, You have been so blissfully clueless this entire time, I figured you had lost your edge.”

  Fear. That is what Thadeus Gransettle was feeling. And he was not happy about it. “That entire time, you were really X’al’antra,” he stated, before shifting his accusatory stare on the witch queen. “What, did your coven find a way to save her?”

  “Sorta,” Suzie grinned, “but we really just needed to retrieve her. You weren’t the only one that gained something extra that day.”

  Larry felt like he was going to have a panic attack, and was thinking fast as he could. X’al’antra was going to fuck him over. She intended to kill him. And she had good reason for it. He had to stall! “Then you know that boy cannot be the Dragonheart!” he accused. “Maybe you really have passed your prime,” Xal sighed. “Tell me Thadeus-”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “What is Caleb’s surname?”

  “The hell should I know?!” Larry honestly wasn’t sure if he had ever heard it.

  “Kurserieth,” she said flatly. Larry furrowed his brow, than eyes widened in realization, “Oh fuck.”

  “Indeeeeeed,” X’al’antra purred, “I made sure William was going to be away during our little endeavor. Couldn’t have him interfering.” Larry was panicking so bad, he was worried he may be visibly shaking.

  It’s time. That is exactly what Jen’taa’yi was feeling. Both of her sisters had moved in a rough spearhead assault formation. Zit to the back and on her right, Nini on her left. Iiyni’jeari’eea may be the strongest, but that didn’t mean she needed to always take point. No. That role, many a time, fell to Jenta. Why? Because it was what she did. Any time now. Any second, and the rest of their aunt’s trump should be in play. Then the trio would push through the gate.

  “Hmm?” Suzie turned to look at the imps, her hands still in the shape of long black claws. “Looks like somebody is ready to abandon ship,” she observed.

  “Now,” X’al’antra told the balor. The one in the middle whistled, and the balor who had been speaking common, stepped through the gate towards Larry, drawing his gigantic great sword from his back.

  Two putrid flesh tubes grew from Larry’s shoulders - the alchemist himself jumping backwards, the tubes pointing at the balor approaching him, firing bowling ball-sized green acid blobs. A little startled that this fat man-thing was so fast, Larry’s assailant didn’t dodge elegantly, yet he still dodged.

  No more time to wait, the imps charged forward, leaping with all their strength to push past the threshold - slightly before a gigantic human-looking hand came into view, ginormous fingers gripping the top of the left side of the gate.

  Jenta flew over the threshold and kept going. The balor in front of her had stepped to the side, allowing her to sail right past him. Iiyni and Zit not having as much luck, the former never even making through. X’al’antra intercepting her with a powerful punch; Iiyni, unable to harm her summoner, and too weakened to dodge in time, had to just take it. Zit? Zit made it across.

  And a fist (much bigger than the partial hand showing on the left side of the gate), punched into the ground from above, and directly over her - indenting deeply into the hard-packed sand of the wastes- smashing Ki’yi’xyit beneath it.

  On the full defensive, Larry was barely dodging the lightning fast sweeps and swipes of the balor that was assaulting him. Focused on not getting cleaved in half, he hadn't even noticed the gigantic hand, or even larger fist that smashed the imp. But when a face, big enough to swallow him whole, peeked around the left corner of the gate - now that made him take pause.

  It had no lips, and seemed to be grinning; huge, human-looking teeth clearly visible. It had no hair on its head, nor eyebrows, or even eyelids. In place of a nose, it just had two nostril holes. Eyes were deep brown and full of excitement.

  Facing back towards the gate, Jenta had just missed her little sister getting squished by the gigas. The smaller gigas was ducking down to fit through the gate it was a good deal taller than. The bigger, and weaker rundu’nthi gigas, lurched backwards from the explosion under the fist that had punched Zit.

  Zit jumped straight up to be in front of its face. No longer on Earth, she looked as much the imp as Jenta now did. Her teeth sharp, miraged muscle plainly evident. Temple veins throbbed, irises of her eyes bright red, and misshapen. Slender black-fleshed tail whipping behind her, the tip shaped like a spade from a deck of cards. Two tiny nubs of premature horns, barely visible on her head.

  Knees bent, one higher than the other in an elegant pose, hands held low and to the side, palms facing the gigas - two balls of energy blazed in Zit’s palms. They then began firing blasts at the gigas. Several smaller balls of energy appeared, silhouetting her torso, and joined in the barrage. Palms firing large energy beams, small spheres near her sides, shoulders, and head firing rapid smaller beams - all while she stayed suspended in the air, at the climax of her jump.

  Crouching, Jenta’s own tail whipped from anger (and the need to fucking stretch it!), ribbons of the same glowing energy her sister assailed the gigas with extending from her hands, spilling out around her body. She couldn’t see sister Nini, nor X’al’antra - the featu’thuntu gigas was taking up too much space as it crossed through the gate onto Earth.

  She could see Larry and Shuzariel. The witch queen was grinning, black blood dripping from her taloned hands, two large fleshy tubes disintegrating near her feet. Larry, in a much more satisfying position, was held aloft by the balor, who had skewered him through the stomach.

  Jenta couldn’t resist this next part.

  With the rundu’nthi gigas tipping backwards, smoking -Zit’s energy bullets now shooting straight through it-, Jenta leapt at the remaining two balor who were posed to intercept her, swords in hands. She let her feet touch the ground not far before them, and hopped straight up - in order for her to intercept a squealing like a stuck pig zombie king, who had been flung -alive- through the gate. He wasn’t a real -or quasi- demon anyway (the possessor he had inside of him burst from his mouth the moment the threshold was crossed, its smoky skeletal true form quickly hasting itself from the battlefield), so his rotten body had already begun to dissolve in this new dimension.

  Whipping both her ribbons of light around her, she spun and twirled - slicing Larry to bits. His soul, which was a slender, nerdy-looking, brown-haired, big nosed young man- fell out of the mess and to the sand, momentarily keeping it's form in the anti-life dimension, due to the demonic taint still present from the possessor. Jenta, without even giving him a chance to express his fear, stuck her hand (energy ribbon withdrawn) into his soul, and grabbed the lock to the Chain's of Sin. Jenta willed him to a place in the fires where she had connections, and on seeing her signature, they would make sure Larry suffered far worse than most.

  His soul vanished before Jenta could even hear him scream. But oh, was he screaming. And he would scream for all time.

  A bit disappointed that his death was so quick, Suzie was still satisfied he was burning. She hated these imps, but the tall one just scored a ton of points to go out of her way to do him like that. Ah well, right now she needed to help Xal and that ugly giant… thing, to keep Iiyni’jeari’eea from passing through. Xal should have closed the gate by now, but her niece was proving more of a handful than anticipated. Even with having just lost Larry’s summoning link, it appeared the link with her sisters was still intact. Probably due to their close proximity to the gate. Annoying.

  Flying up, and dodging the forearm and elbow of the gigas, Iiyni’jeari’eea almost took Shuzariel’s head off, before the gigas backhanded the imp to the end of the canyon. Xal nearly nosediving into the ground to stop her niece from charging between the gigas’ legs and to the gate.

  When Suzie looked back, she saw both Hell-side balor covered in blood, and smoking, but managing to keep the two imps busy, as they used fire magic or something, alongside their swords, to counter the imps speed and energy powers. Seeing them fight… No fucking way Suzie would want to be on the other side of that gate right now. Though it was still obvious that the balor were going to lose. Soon.

  Suzie knew what she had to do. Xal was not going to be happy. The balor on this side even less so. But she had no choice! If the imps actually stepped back through to help their sister…

  Looking at the gate, Suzie let mana pour from her, and spoke the words she had just as much of a right to invoke as X’al’antra. Jenta and Zit fell their two enemies, right as Suzie spoke her command: “Excluzignum’ Terlmix’claudyi!”

  The Hell gate slammed shut and vanished, in a cloud of brown dust.

  The balor shouted something at her in his Hell speech, melting some asphalt. Yeah, you’re pissed, I get it! But he wasn't taking battle stance against her, so there wasn't a big reason to worry. Now, will Xal be okay with her choice?

  She was. Barely. When the gate had closed, X’al’antra had filled with such murderous rage that the witch acted on her own, she almost forgot the benefit of it closing. Her niece just lost the power of two more of her summoners. Iiyni’jeari’eea had kept her footing from where she stood on the lip of the canyon, but X'al'antra had seen the expression that crossed her face. She could feel the loss of strength in the imp.

  Iiyni's whole whole body was shaking. She was tired. Dizzy. Confused. This was bad. Now they looked at her. All of them. X’al’antra, the gigas, Shuzariel, and the balor. She was going to lose. They were going to kill her. And then she would burn.

  “A one-shot?” Iiyni snarled defiantly at the group before her. “A single? Is that what you want? Huh? A one-time appearance?!” She was seething at her aunt, fury once again giving her strength. “FUCK THAT! I’m not dying here! You drug me into this prophecy bullshit, now let’s see you remove me from it! Me. Iiyni-fucking-jeari’eea!”

  Then, she ran. As fast as she was currently able, she turned and hopped over the amphitheater, and ran.

  “Didn’t expect her to do that,” Suzie mumbled. X’al’antra sighed loudly. Looking to the balor, “Well?!” the vampire queen snapped. “Go get her! Do not let her survive!” As pissed off as he was that the gate closed behind him, and his brothers had been killed, Rch’otch could not pass up an opportunity to kill the great Iiyni’jeari’eea.

  Even if he died here, being the one to slay the most hated of the tyrants would definitely get him rescued from the fires, and risen to king among his people.