Death comes in many shapes and flavors. Since the death of the first god jumpstarted creation, people often debated what the ‘worst way to go’ would be. There were many contenders for the top spot. Burning to death, bleeding to death, drowning in the ocean, falling from a cliff. They were all good contenders with upsides and downsides.

“You would not even die from burning, smoke would take you out first.” One would say scholarly.

“Drowning is actually a super-fast way to go, your lungs just give out, and you’re gone.” Another one would add snapping their fingers.

“I bet slowly bleeding would feel good.” Their weird friend chimed in with a muffled voice.

That debate was one of the first things that got destroyed when they appeared out of nowhere.

They left so few survivors, at first it was just complete towns that got leveled, their people eviscerated, human body parts scattered around the streets like macabre midwinter decorations. The faces, the ones that could be distinguished through the gore that is, were twisted with the most bizarre expression of fear. Their eyes were surrounded by black veins and every muscle was contorted in unnatural angles.

Survivors started to crop up one by one. One from each of the strongest communities that no longer existed. They could no longer function as people, let alone as the leaders they used to be. They were afraid. Not afraid of anything in particular, but anxious in general. They would wake up in the middle of their sleep screaming. They talked about crimson clouds made of razor blades, the sun disappearing from the sky in the middle of day, the bodies of their dead loved ones coming back to haunt them, and pools of blood drowning families whole.

There was only one solid thread that went through all the stories. Slender bodies made of shadows, silver lines swirling in them, with two eyes that glowed white-blue like dying stars.

Starbeast became synonymous with terror in the highlands.

People flocked to cities. Bastions, constructed to withstand the onslaught of the beasts, were surrounded by moats filled with coals and cinder, their streets were inlaid with canals running seawater.

It worked, the cities were safe. It was an age of fear, a time when those who could brave venturing outside the protection of their cities were regarded even more courageous than the heroes of old. That fear was long gone now. It was replaced by the safety of a life in heaven. Starbeasts were never a threat to the spires. They were a thing of the past, stories in dusty old tomes that children whispered to each other around campfires under bright starlight.

Helen never expected her home to be attacked. Starbeasts couldn’t pierce the cloud floor, that was what she was taught. Everybody knew that. They were safe here, away from the curse that destroyed the surface of their planet. She knew she would fight them one day, she had prepared, but she expected it to be in the efforts to take back the surface. She would join the riders, or the army if that didn’t work out, use the powers that her ancestors blessed her with for the good of her people. It’s what her family would have done if they hadn’t been killed by that cursed creature.

She grew up at the highest point of the highest spire among the nine. As such, Helen was used to the cold. She knew cold like she knew nothing else; it was her home. What accompanied the starbeasts was not cold. It wasn’t natural. It was like a slow-moving bolt of lightning that traveled up and down her entire being, freezing her bones in a way that she never imagined possible.

Only after she was completely immobilized with that feeling, that terror, she saw them. They were scary alright; seven feet tall and thin as a withered branch, pieces of bone protruded through their skin. All over their bodies were soles that bled what looked like shiny, black tar. The worst part were their eyes. They were hateful cinders of blue flame, placed too far apart on a sharp angled head to resemble anything close to human.

Those cursed blue eyes were the only source of light in the world now. Helen didn’t know what happened to the sun, but it was gone. The world was swallowed by solid darkness, nothing existed but the monster and terror.

Helen found herself on her knees. Her hands refused to move towards the hilts of her blades. The starbeast moved through the crowd with the ease of a shooting star. With every swing and stab of its elongated, sharp claws another one of Helen’s friends lost a limb.

Blood sprayed, creating a cloud that tasted like copper and painted everything crimson. A head rolled on the floor. It belonged to Markus, a boy from her fencing class. He liked bugs, even collected them. He had asked her out a couple of times in the past. She never had time for it, now she regretted it.

Bile burned at Helen’s throat as her body reacted to the smell of blood that stuck to the inside of her nostrils. She tried to ignore her surroundings and focus on her own heartbeat. It was easy to do as her body trembled with every beat, it was almost as if her head was being pounded with a hammer.

The starbeast, its claws extended like razors, continued its sweep through the crowd. Blood sprayed like a fountain. A severed arm rolled on the granite floor and came to a stop right in front of her. A tattoo of a caterpillar spiraled around it. She had seen that tattoo before. It belonged to a girl that lived downhill from Helen’s house. She remembered thinking how stupid the tattoo was. She pitied the girl for having a bug for her family crest. She didn’t realize how beautiful the tattoo itself was back then. Colorful ink circling a perfectly toned arm.

The owner of the arm was crawling on her remaining arm. Too shocked to scream, she left a trail of blood as she tried to get away from the monster. Her ribcage exploded with a sickening crunch as the beast stepped on it, making its way down the hall, cleaving through more and more bodies with every passing moment.

Helen tried to look around, searching for the dragon riders, anything that would save her friends, someone who would save her home from destruction. Nothing existed beyond the terror. It was all Helen could do to keep breathing. She forced her body to react, to move, to draw her weapons, to do anything but stare at the dying stars embedded on the monster’s face. The monster approached, swinging its claws in wide arcs. Blood rained and screams echoed.

The starbeast stood right in front of her now. Lines of silver swirled around in the shadowy being, the heavy copper scent made her eyes burn. Helen tried to push down her fear with every fiber of her being. Her arms might as well have been chained to her sides, her feet stuck to the floor.

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The starbeast’s claw rose and after a moment that felt like forever, it fell.

Helen closed her eyes in expectation of an excruciating pain that would put an end to her life.

“No!” she heard Dahlia’s voice, strained with effort.

Air exploded out from her lungs. The starbeast howled, sending another wave of ice-cold terror through her bones. Instead of a sharp pain though, she felt Dahlia’s hands grabbing and pushing her away, and then the unforgiving stone on her back.

She looked up at the mountainous body, surprised at still being in one piece. Next to her was Dahlia’s trembling body, her cursed black and white hair stuck to her ugly white dress dripping with half-congealed blood. Helen’s overwhelming hatred towards the monster that was her so called cousin, suddenly flowed through her, warming and giving her the much-needed strength to finally push through the immobilizing fear. She simply couldn’t stand the thought of being saved by Dahlia.

In a flash, she was up on her feet with daggers in hand. Red onyx in her right hand and blue in her left. Her meticulously honed instincts took over, she dropped down into a crouch as the beast’s claw whistled above her. She sprang up, extending her arms as momentum rolled up from her legs. Onyx blades sunk into the shadow-flesh, stone edges sharper than any steel, cutting into the monster’s chest. The creature screamed and its blood, so dark almost black, sizzled as it dripped on the stone floor.

It thrashed around, claws barely missing Helen’s chest as she jumped back. Now that she was in motion, adrenaline rose in her blood. It surrounded the terror, familiar steps of the dance wrapped her overwhelming fear. Every step made breathing a little easier, every cut relieved some of the pressure off her heart.

Step, stab, and cut. Impossibly sharp edges of obsidian blades severed muscle and veins made of darkness itself. She knew blocking a swipe from the monster’s claws was out of the question. Obsidian weapons weren’t known for their durability.

She used her body like a spring instead. She fought like a snake. With every step she took back to avoid getting her head chopped off, she coiled and lunged back with her daggers extended like venomous fangs. Step, stab, and cut.

The more Helen’s adrenaline rose, the more bizarre everything seemed. There was no source of light, the sun was gone and darkness surrounded her. Yet, she had no trouble seeing the monster. The colors of her dress and blades, though filtered through a mist of heavy blood red, were still vibrant as ever. She heard grunts of effort and pain all around her, screams echoed below where the citadel was, steel whistled as it cut through the air, and dragons roared as their breath ignited. For a second it was all real and the next none of it existed. Nothing existed but Helen and the starbeast in front of her.

She kept cutting. A dozen, then two dozen cuts appeared on the monster’s wet flesh. Warm blood covered her forearms. Her body shook with an unholy mix of exhaustion and fear. She could feel her arms grow heavier with each stab, her ever-sharp blades dulled with each cut.

Starbeast, on the other hand, showed no signs of wear. Even though it bled from numerous wounds, it only seemed to grow larger and more vicious. It felt like its claws got longer with each swipe.

One. Just one cut from those jagged claws would be enough to send Helen to the starless void of ever after.

She stepped forwards and stabbed it’s neck with the red blade, pulling it out in a vertical motion trying to sever the muscle that held its head in place. The blade got stuck, causing her to abruptly stop and lose her momentum for a second.

The monster’s claw was quick to take advantage. It rose in a wide arc, missing Helen’s neck by a mere inch as she jumped backwards. The blade that got stuck in its muscles dangled like a macabre piece of jewelry. The starbeast pressed on, swiping its claw horizontally aiming for her chest. Her hand rose reflexively, the blue blade barely enough to stop the incoming blow. Onyx exploded into hundreds of shards. At least twenty of those embedded themselves all the way from her temple to her belly. Twenty shards of red, hot pain. Darkness disappeared in a flash. Pain joined anger and adrenaline, like a missing puzzle piece to push terror down completely.

The monster snarled in pain as it jumped back with its chipped claw bent back unnaturally. In the corner of her eyes, her peripheral vision revealed the legendary dragon rider fighting off three more starbeasts with his blade glowing bright gold. Red clouds of blood still filled the entire cathedral. Above, a giant starbeast gripped Skybreaker’s dragon, its claws sunk deep in the glorious creature’s neck. With a booming explosion that shook the whole summit like an earthquake, the dragon crashed into one of the walls. The stone exploded. Rubble rained down along with pieces of the starbeast’s remains.

A piece of rock struck the monster, that Helen had been fighting, in its side, giving her a moment to breathe. Weaponless and bloodied, she steadied herself against the wall behind her.

Dahlia was shaking on the floor next to her, unable to move, whimpering pathetically after she used what little willpower she had to push Helen out of the starbeast’s attack. Her dress was completely red now. Torn almost completely in half by the beast’s claw that was aimed at Helen. One of her arms laid limp at her side, the other one moved shakily to her side. Blood spurted from her mouth as she tried to mumble something inaudible. Her gaze was starting to shutter, glazing slowly over, bloodshot and black as the night and focused on something far beyond where Helen stood. With a grunt and another blood-filled cough, she pulled the blade she was carrying on her hip half out of its scabbard.

Helen bent and pulled the blade, a little shadow of gratitude looming over her head. She nodded a little nod of thanks to her cousin as Dahlia’s eyes rolled back, her consciousness fading into nothingness.

Her right arm was dangling from her shoulder, a dozen pieces of her own blade lodged in it. With her left hand she gave the sword a practice swing to get a measure of its weight. It was a good sword, clearly worthy of a better wielder.

The starbeast rose back up, its eyes glowing with overwhelming killing intent. Though she felt lightheaded from blood loss, Helen held the sword as high as she dared, in guard. The monster didn’t look winded even with a dagger dangling from its neck and a large piece of granite lodged in its side. It merely looked angrier, whereas Helen was at the end of her rope. There was no help around, the few in the hall that survived the initial slaughter were either unconscious or too paralyzed by fear. Skybreaker had his hands full with the two starbeasts that remained after he cleaved one of their kin in half. The golden dragon had already taken off to join other riders in protection of the citadel below.

Helen gritted her teeth in a forced smile. Fear was now a feint memory. She took a deep breath.

“Ancestors bless the road on which I walk.” She whispered in quick prayer. “If I am to die, let them pave the road home a blissful one.”

She lunged, the thin sword extended. The starbeast sprung at her at the same time, two claws aimed at her chest.

Helen jumped to the side, throwing the sword towards the creature’s feet at the same time. The blade sunk into one of its knees, making it stagger just in time for her to position herself behind it. She grabbed the hilt of her dagger that was still stuck in the creature’s neck. Lacking another arm to use, she wrapped her legs around the beast’s belly. Up close, the creature smelled like rotten flesh and burned hair. Its exposed flesh felt like it was covered with worms. Pushing down the disgust, Helen pulled on the dagger with all her remaining strength and what more her ancestors deemed to grant her.

For one excruciating moment, nothing happened. Red onyx blade, made by the finest stonesmith the spire had ever seen and enchanted with the same blessed blood that filled her veins, screamed against bone and the starbeast howled in pain. Its head snapped free, and the monster’s neck turned into a fountain of blood. A rotten taste filled her mouth as half-congealed blood soaked her face.

She fell to the floor. Her legs still wrapped around the monster’s carcass. Its body was already disappearing, flesh and bone turning into black smoke.

She looked up, feeling more dirty than victorious, hoping to see the sun again, now that the starbeast was gone. But the spire was crawling with more of its kind. Terror they incited still shrouding everything good. And yet… Before pain took her to the pleasant realm of unconsciousness, she thought she could feel a little bit of warmth on her skin.