Jasvinder Krishnan

Blood drips from my lips as Don kicks me in the stomach again. My head is spinning and I've lost track of how long this has been going on. All I know is that my legs no longer have the strength to stand, leaving me squirming on the ground in a fetal position. And in the back of my mind, Sheryl's presence grows gradually larger, like a solar eclipse slowly and steadily consuming the sun. So far I've managed to keep Sheryl penned up in her prison, but my mental grip is slipping.

Its not easy to stay focused when someone is beating you down mercilessly. I've only managed to survive for so long because Don has been pulling his punches. The communal generator had been knocked out a long time ago during the fracas, leaving the blazing fires around the village square the only source of light left in the area.

"Just let go Jasvinder." Don says as he tosses me casually against a burning hut, sending cinders sprinkling all over me, "We both know how this is going to end."

I try to speak, but the blood in my throat wells up again, causing my words to dissolve into incoherent gargling. Managing to get on all fours, I blindly attempt to crawl away from my tormentor only for Don's armored foot to slam into my side. My vision spins as I'm sent rolling down the village square like a discarded tire. I don't see Thomas and Jackson anywhere though. They've probably managed to make their escape with Sammie. That's something at least.

I just wish it didn't require me being put into this situation.

"Hey!" a woman shouts from somewhere in the darkness surrounding the town square. I blink the grit and mud from my eyes and see a beast woman carrying an assault rifle marching towards us, intent on facing down Don.

"Lena?" I mumble after spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"Why don't you try going up against someone who can fight back?" Lena barks in challenge at Don.

"There's no such person here." Don remarks, and I can feel the confidence oozing from his voice.

"Oh really?" Lena asks, raising her rifle in readiness to fire.

"Don't waste your time with her." Wu comments, "Harvest the beast and be done with it."

"Yeah." Don agrees as he raises one of his pistols, "Eyes on the prize and all that."

"Now!" Lena yells at the top of her voice and abruptly dives to the side. There's a loud roar punctuated with multiple muzzle flashes, illuminating the village Braves manning a line of their home made cannons, firing in unison. Loud metal clangs echo throughout the night as the round shots impacts against both Don and Wu. I quickly shut my eyes as tightly as possible before the divine energy bursts out from the shattering cannon balls.

"What in the wor -" Don curses before his words are turned into an agonized scream. Wu joins in the chorus and I can hear the lumbering footsteps of their machines staggering about drunkenly.

I crack open my eyes and see Don and Wu groping at their helmets, their bulwarks's sensors overwhelmed with the sudden wave of divine energy. But despite the obvious pain Wu and Don are in, the cannons had failed to actually penetrate their armor. Lena and her Braves quickly form up and begin hosing Don down with lead from their rifles. The rattle of gunfire is deafening as Don howls in frustration from being blinded and ambushed.

In the corner of my eye, I see Wu's flails go slack as he stumbles about aimlessly. The assassin tenses like a cat and the Stormer's jets power up, sending the unknown pilot hurtling towards Wu like a battering ram. The assassin tackles Wu hard, and the pair of them punch right through the wall of a nearby house, disappearing from my sight. At the same time, Lena and the Braves rush up to me, rifles still firing away to little effect against Don's bulwark. Lena grabs me by the arms and begins dragging me away with surprising strength as her friends cover her.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Why?" I croak.

"We pay our debts." Lena pants from exertion, "Don't make me regret this more than I already am."

"There you are!" Don exclaims as his guns begin moving with malicious intent, his eyesight having cleared up. The pistols begin delivering pinpoint fire and the Braves begin dropping like flies. Lena swallows hard and picks up the pace, but both of us are still moving painfully slow. Too slow to get away from Don.

"The statue!" Lena shouts in alarm and true enough the stone statue of Iros, previously tottering from battle damage, begins to tip over, its shadow swallowing Don's figure. Don turns around in alarm just in time to see the massive block of stone come crashing down on to his face, burying him completely with a titanic crash.

"How did that happen?" Lena asks no one in particular, completely dumbfounded at this turn of events. A single figure limps out from the cloud of dust that had been stirred up by the falling statue and the remaining Braves raise their weapons in alarm.

"Thomas!' I cry out in surprise at the sight of my husband who raises his hands in mock surrender to the Braves.

"Couldn't leave you behind." Thomas pants with a smile on his face, "And that statue was just asking to be pushed over."

"Smart thinking." Lena congratulates, "We need to escape before the other two finish throwing down."

"Yes, let's go." Thomas nods happily.

But before he can take a single step, a metal fist shoots out from under the rubble and grabs on to his leg. The mound of broken stone explodes like a volcano as Don takes to the sky on his bulwark's jets, no worse for wear and still holding on to Thomas.

"Did you seriously expect that stunt to actually hurt me?" Don demands as he hovers high above us, waving my husband's body about like a piece of meat.

"Don! If you hurt Thomas, I swear -" I shout back, rage getting the better of me.

"That's up to you, Jasvinder." Don snorts, "We're going to play a game. Right here, right now."

"Help!" Thomas cries in distress.

"Hey, Thomas, you wanna know how much Jasvinder really loves you?" Don taunts, "We're about to find out."

I swallow hard, fearful of what Don has planned. In the distance, I see the assassin being sent sailing out through the roof of one of the buildings with Wu in hot pursuit.

"Jasvinder is going to let Sheryl out in ten seconds." Don continues, "If he doesn't, I'm going to make your dream come true Thomas. You're going to touch all the sky you want."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Thomas sobs.

"Ten!"

My mind blanks and I vaguely notice Wu and the assassin going at it in the background. The assassin flits about like a shadow, phasing through Wu's lashing chains.

"Six!"

The assassin lands several solid hits on Wu, but the senior operative is unfazed, whipping the flails about faster and faster, forcing his opponent to retreat.

"Three!"

"Don! Wait!" I protest. There's a loud bang as Wu sends the assassin reeling with a hard blow from one of the flails.

"Time's up." Don retorts, "Guess you never loved Thomas all that much in the end." And with that said, his hand lets go and drops my husband straight towards the ground.

"No!" I growl and break free from Lena's grasp. My bulwark's thrusters return to life and I careen through the air on an intercept course with Thomas. I did this before. I can do it again.

I will do it again.

A sudden stabbing pain blooms in my chest and I am slammed off course by the unexpected blow. I perform a roll to steady myself in the air, just in time to see Wu's chains retract in slow motion. I surge forward again just as a loud cry breaks out from below. My eyes turn downward and see -

Red.

Thomas surrounded by red.

Soaked in red.

Part of the red.

Nothing but red.

My heart screams and my mind bubbles with fury. Don wants a monster? I'll give him a monster.

My breathing slows to a calm, regulated pace as the two Operatives close in on me from both sides. I reach deep within myself, tugging at the strand of power that lies within my blood. Mental fingers dig into Sheryl's shell, attempting to pry it open, to get her to provide me with the access and knowledge I need. I close my eyes to focus myself, fully committing to this battle.

Two wills lock for a suspended second.

And the tumblers turn, like a rusty lock that had been left unattended for too long. I feel the sensation of Sheryl's powers working, healing my body and restoring the bulwark. My sword reforms in my hand, its edge now razor sharp and dripping with liquid fire.

Furinkazan. Sheryl's trump card.

My head throbs from the effort of retaining control. Its like driving a car that has no brakes and a steering wheel that barely works. But I can still point the vehicle in a general direction. And as the red begins to blot my vision entirely, that's exactly what I do.

I aim myself at Don as he rapidly approaches and give one final look at that hateful man before my sight fails completely. And then I let go.

Allowing nature to take its course.