Drim stared at Phon for a bit after the two others had departed. He knew they needed to leave soon, but knowing that it would hurt Phon was making him hesitate. Part of him was wishfully hoping she would miraculously recover enough that she could teleport them away, but even if she could, he couldn’t ask her to risk it after he saw the damage the last attempt had caused.
Phon’s injuries were almost certainly not life threatening, especially for a Fiend, but they did not yet know how extensive a Fiend’s resistances were. There was a chance her wounds could become infected if left untreated, especially with bullets still inside of her. Luckily, the shot to her elbow hadn’t embedded itself, but it had left a severe gash.
However, the bullet that had pierced through her hand had continued its trajectory and buried itself in her gut. The one in her thigh was still lodged as well. Drim knew he’d have to remove them, which he had done once before to save the life of an injured traveler who was robbed. From that experience, he learned just how painful it was for the opposite party, and this time he would have to do it while moving.
Drim heard the helicopter flying his way, and knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He lifted the first aid kit he was still holding up to his head and said, “Pox I need you to hold onto this for me.” The usual small furry hand poked out from his hood, grabbed onto the kit, and pulled it inside.
Drim was wearing his sling backpack as usual, which had his bracers and a few arrows, but decided against equipping them since there was a chance they could cut Phon while he was carrying her. Also, having them readily available would mean he would be more likely to use them against the police, which he wanted to avoid because it would likely lead to their death. Hopefully, he wouldn’t run into many because of Xard and Kada’s efforts, but if he did, he would have to rely on his thorns.
Drim picked up his duffle bag, which made an unsettling sloshing as he moved it since it was filled with everyone's combined melted possessions, with an equally disturbing noise to accompany it. He slung the bag’s strap over his left shoulder, and shifted it so the bag laid against his backside. He bent down next to Phon and hoisted her up into a princess carry. It was then that the whirring of the helicopter got exponentially louder.
Drim looked up and the helicopter was hovering just overhead. The door on the side slid open, and a heavily dressed officer, attached with a harness, dangled out. He aimed a fully automatic rifle right at Drim and began to fire. Drim dashed towards the edge of the roof and hopped down. He had hoped to be able to use his vines to lower them down slowly, but that was no longer an option. As he descended, he spread his legs and grinded his feet into each wall to slow them down. The height wasn’t enough that the fall would hurt him, but he wanted the landing to be as soft as possible for Phon’s sake.
Once on the ground, Drim took off and began weaving madly through the back alleys. Losing the helicopter was simple enough with enough random turns, but now he wasn’t exactly sure where he was. He also wasn’t entirely sure where they were in relation to the train station. He knew the station was near the city center, so as long as he could keep an eye on the sun he should be able to discern the general direction he had to go.
He briefly considered pulling out his tablet and using that map to guide him, but since his hands were full, he would have to use a vine to hold it. That was something he couldn’t afford to do. He had plenty of nature energy to do so, but controlling his vines required mental energy. Since he had to do something that was going to require a lot of focus and precision, he couldn’t warrant both holding and looking at his tablet.
Even running would be difficult, it would be like trying to perform surgery while on a treadmill. However, they had to keep moving or they’d miss the train. Drim began a slow run in what he hoped was the right direction, and did his best to let his legs operate on autopilot from then on. He took a deep breath and cleared his head as he summoned several vines.
Two of the vines wrapped around Phon’s arms and legs to keep her from fidgeting. A third wrapped around her mouth to muffle any potential screams. A fourth floated above her, the tip splitting into six ends, as small as Drim could make them. He decided to start with the thigh wound first, since extracting that bullet would likely be less painful. The tips of the vine slithered into the wound. He could only imagine what it must feel like with them wriggling around inside.
Phon was shaking wildly in Drim’s arms. Since she was restrained, it was more like a constant vibration, and he could see tears stream down from her ribbon. Thankfully, this time they were regular and not blood. Eventually, the vine tips managed to fully wrap around the bullet. After a few small tugs to confirm the grip was adequate, the vine retracted in one swift motion, pulling the bullet out of Phon’s leg. She let out a solid groan followed by a very relaxed sigh, which was just audible enough to be heard through her gag.
The vine flew behind Drim and deposited the bullet in his bag. He doubted Phon wanted to keep it, but felt it better to take it than dispose of it randomly for someone to find. Drim felt it was a good time to refocus on his movements, to make sure they were still on the right track. He glanced ahead and panicked. Two officers were further along down the alley he was currently running through and seemed to have just noticed him.
They began aiming at him while walking slowly in his direction. Fortunately, there was still a crossroads between them so Drim could alter course, but he knew this meant they would take their shot before he was out of their line of sight. Instead of diverting right when he got to the intersection, he charged forward, throwing the cops off for a moment. Just as Drim was about to cross the threshold into their alley, he spun hard on his right heel and slid his left foot along the ground covering the expanse of the alley’s entrance. Green light emitted from the area Drim had drug his foot, and a wall of thorns sprouted up, blocking the police off from him.
As he ran down the alleyway perpendicular to the officers, he repeatedly used his foot to set more thorns to block off any potential paths if they decided to go around and chase him. Once he was confident that he had enough of a buffer, he resumed his autorun and focused back on his amateur doctoring. He moved his hand-like vine over to the wound in Phon’s stomach. That was when he noticed just how stained her top had become.
There was a large irregularly shaped circle of blood around the hole. It was definitely noticeable enough that it could cause issues when they would try to board the train. He couldn’t change her clothes without Kada, and couldn’t take a bleeding person to a clothing store either. Maybe if I use her blood I can dye the rest of the shirt to match the stain, Drim pondered for a moment. There’s quite a lot of it to use. She's been bleeding even more from her leg since I removed the bullet… Ahh I should do something about that.
Drim had a bit of the vine wrapped around her legs slide upwards and tighten around the wound. This would slow the bleeding until he could properly bandage it. He looked back at the shirt, and berated himself for wasting time and thinking about something non-critical to the moment. He refocused the vine and dug in.
The extraction went similarly to the first. However, it seemed to cause Phon a great deal more pain this go round. When it came time for the pull, the pain seemed too much to bear, causing her to pass out. Drim thought it may be for the best so she could get a break. He used his vine to pull a bottle of water from his backpack and rinse out her wounds. As he put it away, he whispered, “Pox, bandages please.” He wasn’t sure Pox would even know what bandages were, but sure enough after a few seconds they were poking out of his hood.
Using his vine, he made sure to patch Phon up properly. He had a fair amount of experience with this as he would often help out anyone injured he came across; usually other monster hunters after they had lost a fight. After he passed the bandages back to Pox, he retracted all of his vines back into the usual green glow. He could focus on getting himself and Phon to the train station now that the immediate issue had been taken care of.
It didn’t take him long to get to the city center, but was instantly weirded out when he got there and stood in the middle. He looked at the clock on one of the buildings; [389]. He had made it with plenty of time, but the square was completely empty. There was no one, which was unheard of at this time of day. There were signs that people had been there previously, based on the tracks left in the few bits of remaining snow. Right now though, Drim couldn’t sense a single person in the vicinity, but that lasted only a moment.
Men in full gear began pouring into the center, from every possible entrance, even the one he had just come from. They quickly surrounded him in a circle, but none of them got too close. Drim noticed the insignia on their shoulders. CP was stitched into their uniforms. These were no ordinary police officers. This was the private elite force controlled by the Central Peace which he had heard of but never seen.
In a sense, he felt honored that they warranted such a response, but wondered how Tusmon had the ability to enlist them, as well as how they got here so quickly. He could guess why they had ambushed him here. The city square led to both the bus station and the train station, so the odds were quite high that they would come here regardless of which method they planned to use.
Drim surveyed the group around him. They were all armed, but each with a different weapon. It was very different from the usual military practice of giving their soldiers standard issue weapons. A few had shotguns, a few had automatic rifles, one was dual-wielding pistols, and one very burly figure was carrying a mini-gun. Even the ones with repeat types all had different models. Also, not all of the soldiers had guns. One was using a polearm, and another had a flail.
He was sure that each one of them was using the weapon they felt most comfortable with, and likely they were all masters with their choice of arms. They all also had varying degrees of uniform. They were all resembling something a soldier would wear, but they differed greatly in design and functionality. A few had heavy-looking armor on, but others had suits consisting mostly of lighter weaves that would be easier to move in. Some also had different colors and designs painted on. A few even had distinguishing accessories that would never be allowed in a traditional army.
Drim’s heart suddenly skipped a beat as an important thought raced through his head. There was no way the CP would only have fighters that specialized in short-to-mid range combat. His eyes began darting around the rooftops, and the moment he saw a small flicker of light he rapidly took a step back while swinging Phon in his arms to move her as far away as he could.
An instant later, there was a bullet hole in the ground. Drim who was typically quite cool-headed in these situations was now burning up. Based on trajectory, and where the bullet had hit, the sniper had been aiming right for Phon’s head. For a moment, Drim was stunned at how close that had been. If he had reacted any later, Phon would have died from his negligence. Drim had been upset and annoyed when Kada and Xard tried to kill the hexadillos, but for the first time in a long time, he was truly angry.
Drim bolted over to the nearby manhole cover. Like back in the alley, he swung his foot around, this time in a full circle. Large black thorned-vines shot from the ground all around him, going up high. Drim had made them as thick as possible, guessing the enemies wouldn’t just let him do what he wanted. He was right. They began to fire at the vines as soon as they sprung up. They most likely thought he was going to use the sewers to escape, but he had no intention of running.
Drim set Phon down next to him on the ground and then placed both of his hands flat on the manhole cover. The entire cover lit up green as he poured energy into it. It was the most energy he had used in a while, and he could feel a noticeable gap deplete from within him. The cover started to lift up, and a thick log, wide enough that it just barely fit through the hole, rose from the sewers. The log was made of the strongest wood possible, even an explosive would have a tough time damaging it.
Drim wasn’t sure if this type of wood existed naturally anywhere in the world, or if this was a plant of his own creation. He placed his hands on either side of the log and began to absorb some of it, hollowing it out about 80 percent of the way. He then slid his hands along the front, creating an opening in the log. He took off his duffle bag and placed it inside, then picked up Phon, and sat her on it.
“Pox, you too,” Drim whispered to his hood. Pox crawled out from his hiding spot, still carrying the first aid kit. He jumped off of Drim’s shoulder and into the log, set the kit off to the side, and then curled up in Phon’s lap. “Take care of her, okay,” Drim said to Pox who gave a slight nod in response. Drim placed his hands back on the log, and regenerated the missing part. He made sure to absorb enough all around it to create small holes for air.
The log began to sink back into the sewer as Drim mimicked pushing something down with his hands. When it was all the way in, the manhole cover clunked back into place as if nothing had happened. Excellent, now that the liabilities are out of the way, time to eliminate those nuisances. “No, I can’t do that,” Drim whispered as he looked down at his chest. That thought hadn’t originated from his head, but rather from his heart.
From time to time, Drim would have thoughts that did not feel like his own. They would say he was too soft, that he would need to be more ruthless. That he should crush, kill, dominate, subjugate, command, sway, terrorize, or tyrannize anyone or anything that stood in the way of his goals. These thoughts would gnaw at his impulses, and at times would be hard to resist. He knew though that if he ever gave into them, he would stop being himself, and ultimately become the demon’s successor the world expected him to be.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
So you’re just going to let them off, the people who tried to kill your sister?! “No, even I have a limit to how nice I can be,” Drim murmured as he rubbed his eyes. They had been burning this whole time as anger swelled inside him, feeling like they were going to burst. If he kept it bottled up for too much longer, he might even give into one of the suggestions his heart had to offer. That’s good to know.
Drim looked at his cylinder of thorns around him. They were still holding up even with the constant assault. This was because he was absorbing any pieces that were blasted off, and constantly supplying energy to his thorns so they could regenerate. However, only bits that were still living could be reabsorbed. Some were killed when hit, so overall it was resulting in a net loss of nature energy. This meant that even though he had a vast amount stocked up, eventually he would be depleted. That and the time limit of the train leaving in approximately 10 minutes meant he couldn’t stall.
First, he had to deal with the sniper. Drim pulled his bracers out of his bag, equipped them, and shifted his blades into a bow. Just as he was about to reach for an arrow, a familiar whirring sound began to fill his ears. It appeared the helicopter from before had finally caught up. This was wonderful timing, since it would allow him to deal with both at the same time. He pulled out two arrows and wrapped a small amount of thorns around the first arrow’s shaft. With the second, he wrapped continuously until it was covered with an absurd amount of thorns, sporting a thickness similar to his arm.
Two holes briefly opened up in Drim’s defenses. Out of the first, he shot the smaller arrow towards the sniper, and out of the second he launched the fat arrow which his bow struggled a bit more to fire. Once both were soaring, the thorns closed up and resumed their form as an impenetrable barricade. The first arrow went directly into the sniper's scope causing the glass to shatter into the sniper’s face. As they were reeling from the attack, the thorns unraveled from the arrow and launched out of the scope, wrapping around the sniper and pinning them to the roof.
The second arrow pierced into the bottom of the helicopter. The thorns quickly wrapped around it all over, then many shot out to the nearby buildings and latched on. They pulled the helicopter until it was caught firmly between two buildings, then some went up and jammed the rotor. A few more opened the door and secured the passengers so that they couldn’t move.
It was finally time to face the forces surrounding him. Drim returned the bow to his bracers in their blade form. After a bit of back and forth, he decided he would not use them to attack. Instead he would just use them for defense if one of the melee users got too close. Even with how he was feeling, he still could not bring himself to kill the CP forces. They were just doing their jobs after all. However, this did not mean that he would go easy on them. They had tried to kill someone he loved.
The thorns around him shed their points, changing into normal black vines. The base of the vines trudged along the ground until they were as close to Drim as they could get. They began wrapping around his body, until he was fully covered like a mummy. The soldiers had stopped firing due to their uncertainty as the vine-mummy started to glow green.
With a flash, the original vines were gone. What replaced them was a cloak wrapped around Drim made of hundreds of small vines that draped down to his feet. The vines had also fused with the hood he was already wearing, giving it a unique texture. Drim didn’t feel right if he were to fight without wearing a cloak after all.
One at a time, four large green portals spawned behind Drim’s back, floating behind him. From each portal erupted a gigantic heavily-thorned vine. Unlike his usual ones which were rounded, these were more squared, with jagged edges and kinks. They also got smaller as they went on. At their base, they barely made it out of the portals, but at the ends they were fine points. All four of them were jerking about in place, as if all of Drim’s anger had flowed into them.
Drim closed his eyes, took a few breaths to try to calm himself, and lowered his hood, and with it, the area around the city center and the sky above seemed to dim. His hair was more intensely dark than usual, devouring the light around him. Normally, Drim would not expose his hair when fighting, but felt the situation warranted it. People’s eyes were naturally drawn to it, so the soldiers would instinctively try to look away. Drim hoped that this would worsen their aim, since they appeared to all be skilled marksmen. Also, the atmosphere it had created more accurately represented his current mood.
The sights of the soldier’s guns definitely seemed to waver slightly, and a few of their hands had started to shake. Drim’s presence was overbearing, and his thorns were likely quite unsettling. If this had taken place a bit further in the past, most men would have likely bowed to him as if he was a god. He opened his eyes, causing the shaking in the soldiers to increase by another level. The normal scary expression his face had by default was now amplified into one that would break anyone’s spirits.
He stared around at the soldiers for a few moments. They seemed to be calming down a bit, but were still hesitant to act. Drim spoke aloud to them, his voice several volumes higher than normal. “If you’re not going to act first, then I will!” His large thorns flew from his back, right towards the mini-gun operator since he could cause the most damage. They moved so fast that they had just about reached the enemy before any of the others could react. In response, they all began to resume firing at Drim.
Not a single bullet hit him. Several of the vines from his cloak moved up at blazing speed and knocked every incoming bullet away before returning to their spot on his cloak. Their movements were so rapid that they could not be fully seen by the naked human eye. Instead, it would appear to them as if he was surrounded by a shroud of black blur. To an observer who had the ability to slow down their viewing, he would likely look like a rampaging tentacle monster out of science fiction.
His large thorns wrapped around the mini-gun, and yanked it out of the soldier’s hands. They then proceeded to rip it to shreds before converging on its user and hammering him down onto the ground. The thorns then moved onto the next in the circle, repeating the process of destroying their weapon and then kindly making their body give a forceful hug to the pavement. This continued on for a few minutes as the thorns worked systematically around the circle, while his cloak continued to keep him from all harm.
One soldier had learned the pattern and threw his weapon up in the air as the thorns approached, predicting they would follow it. They all behaved like he expected, so he took this chance to charge towards Drim with his knife. One of the thorns then immediately diverted its path and wrapped around the man’s legs. It picked him up, and slammed him onto a nearby bench.
When Drim was working on attacking the opposing side of the circle to her position, the flail user tried to sneak up on Drim from behind. One of the thorns split off from the group and flew behind him, proceeding to viciously flick the woman in the head, disorienting her. The thorn then grabbed the flail out of her hands, flew behind her, and impaled her in the back of the knee with the spiked ball.
Eventually, all that was left was the polearm bearer. Drim had accurately guessed that this man would be the biggest foil to his thorn usage. He had sent a few smaller ones over to the soldier during the fight to keep him occupied, but the soldier had managed to block, dodge, or cut them all. The man took a running stance, with his polearm angled behind him, and began charging at Drim.
In retaliation, Drim sent his four large thorns directly at him. He mentally applauded the man’s bravery and ability to endure this long. However, time was almost up, and he was exhausted from using his Curse to such a degree, so he wanted this to be over.
The four thorns closed in on the man but to Drim’s surprise, he managed to dodge all of them, and even cleanly cut through one of the thorns with his weapon. The injured thorn began to writhe around wildly like it was a living creature due to Drim’s sudden frustration. He sent energy down the thorn for it to regenerate, and then all of them resumed attacking the man.
To Drim’s growing annoyance, the man kept dodging. This was likely due to how tired Drim was getting, causing the thorns to move slower. Even with the man’s vast talent, there would be no way he could out maneuver them if this was the start of the fight. Drim would have to remember this in the future when faced with agile opponents. Eventually, he gave up on the idea that his thorns would ever be able to land a hit, and retracted them back inside their portals, which promptly faded away.
Instead, Drim readied himself for the impending attack. As expected, the soldier didn’t let this opportunity go to waste and headed straight towards Drim, ready to strike. Drim stood there, not moving an inch, doing his best to refocus his mind as much as he could. As soon as the soldier twitched his weapon, Drim moved his own arms in response, and blocked the incoming attack with his blades. This knocked the polearm backwards, staggering its user with the recoil.
If Drim had not recalled his earlier thorns he would not have been able to pull this off, and was the same reason he had not used his vine cloak to defend. Using them together was extremely effective, but it required so much mental energy that Drim would struggle greatly to move his body even an inch. If he was attacked in an unexpected way when using them, he would be unable to react. His vine cloak alone likely would have been enough, but Drim didn’t take the risk that the soldier could somehow cut through them all. Instead he had opted to rely on his own skill and reflexes, which had paid off.
The bottom of Drim’s cloak split off into four bits and wrapped around the soldier's limbs, spreading them. The soldier seemed to struggle for a moment, before giving up after realizing it was hopeless. Perfect… Now show the world what happens to those who stand in your way… Eradicate him! Set an example! With this thought, the vines wrapped around the soldier seemed to squeeze tighter, causing him to groan in pain.
“No…” Drim whispered as the vine loosened a little. “No... I can’t do that... I am not YOU!” What started as a quiet mumble that only Drim could hear, ended in a deafening yell which silenced the area. All of a sudden his head felt clear, he wasn’t angry anymore. The gnawing anguish in his head was gone. He knew he had won and no longer had to fight. These soldiers were all prepared to die, but if he killed them, he would have lost to himself.
Drim raised his right hand, and placed it against the soldier's chest. He looked at him right in the eyes, and saw that there was no fear, only determination. “Sorry about that outburst… You’re very skilled,” Drim said to the man in his usual demeanor since his rage and frustration had been quelled. “If we were to meet again under different circumstances, I’d love to learn from you.”
The man gave a cheeky grin, and exhaled heavily from his nose as if he found Drim’s statement amusing. Drim pulled back his palm. Simultaneously, the vines vanished from around the man along with the rest of Drim’s cloak. Drim pushed his hand forward, holding back as much as he could, and hit the man square in the chest. Even with trying to be gentle, it was still enough force to send the man flying backwards and crashing into a building.
Drim took a survey of the scene. Every soldier was down on the ground, but a few were still struggling and trying to stand. “Give up. It’s over,” Drim’s voice boomed in the same commanding manner as the night at Prosper. Each soldier immediately stopped moving and collapsed with not a hint of fighting spirit left in them. Now that the fight was over, Drim put his hood back up causing the atmosphere to return to normal. He then clutched his head from strain and exhaustion and huddled over.
“Woah Drim, are you all right?” an approaching voice yelled. It was Kada running up to him. A few seconds later Xard also appeared on the scene. His bizarre appearance shocked Drim and rapidly snapped him out of his funk. Drim looked at the clock, [397], they had all made it on time.
“Yeah I’m fine,” Drim said to them, his voice noticeably tired. “I’m glad you both are okay too.” It seemed both of them hadn’t witnessed what had just transpired. He thought it was probably for the best, not knowing if it would have been inspiring or frightening for them to see.
“Where’s Phon at? Is she alright?” Xard asked with concern.
“I’m alright!” a voice echoed from beneath their feet. It seemed Phon had regained consciousness. “Hurry up and get me out of this thing!” Drim stepped off of the manhole cover he had not moved from since the start of the fight, and raised the log back up. He opened up a hole in it which prompted Phon to limp out on all fours and gasp for air. Pox immediately crawled out from under her and made a beeline right for Drim’s hood. “Man it was stuffy in there,” Phon said taking a few more big breaths before returning to normal breathing.
She looked up at the clock, quickly lifted her ribbon to take a peak, and said in a condescending tone, “You guys were cutting it pretty close, huh? Well, I should have just enough energy to be able to move us onto the train so…” She had turned her head to look at them all and stopped talking abruptly when she saw Xard. Phon began bursting out laughing when she saw how Xard was dressed. Now reassured since Phon was well enough to react in such a way, Drim went over to the log, picked up his duffle bag, then reabsorbed the wood.
Eventually, the outburst became so much that Phon couldn’t support herself anymore and rolled onto her back. “Oh Cosmos, laughing hurts so much,” she whined while doing her best to contain her laughter; a few chuckles still escaped. This prompted her to clutch her stomach wound with her bandaged hand. With her free hand she pulled her phone out of her pocket, swiftly snapped a picture of Xard, and put it back before he could react. “Damn, that made this all worth it. Thanks Xard. Alright, for real now, let’s get going.”
“Wait!” a nearby voice yelled. “Don’t move!” However it was too late. The four Fiends vanished from the square.
◆◆◆
Tusmon was running to the Constead city square, accompanied by a few fellow police officers, where he saw the four Fiends standing around. He called out to them but to no avail. They all vanished right in front of his eyes. Tusmon stopped running and let out a loud sigh. He put away his gun, and looked at the devastation around him. He moved over to one of the soldiers and checked to see that they were still alive.
After a few moments, one of the officers ran over to him. “We looked around both stations, but there was no sign of them. Do you want us to order that all travel be halted?” she asked.
“No… we can’t inconvenience these civilians more than we already have.” Tusmon stated. “We can afford to let them go for now. The night they saved my life, they told me they would kill me if I tried to arrest them again. I had a feeling they were bluffing. They’re definitely not as evil as they lead others to believe. I feel confident that I can say they will not go out of their way to cause trouble for others in the immediate future.”
“Then sir I must ask, what was all this for? Why did you go through all these lengths to try to capture them?” the officer questioned him.
“You saw what they did, the damage they left behind,” Tusmon lamented. “Even if they are not bad people, they are still monsters. They are walking weapons of mass destruction, and left unchecked they could bring this world to ruin… For that reason, I will not stop pursuing them, and I have a good idea where they’re going next. I’ll follow them to the end of the world if I have to.”
“Why does this burden have to fall on you, though?” the officer insisted. “Every police department across the continent is looking for them, and I’m sure the Central Peace is taking measures of their own to catch them.”
“Well you see, this mission has already turned me into a monster as well,” Tusmon said as he took off his sunglasses. “If I’m the one who goes after them, it may prevent others from sharing my fate.” The now stone-faced officer looked back at him as he stared at her with his blood-red eyes.