“Bullseye,” The archer muttered to herself. Just before she released the bowstring to send the arrow on its way, there was a slight golden glint in her right eye. It was signifying the use of her ability, Hawk-eye. She released the bowstring, and the arrow went flying.
The arrow went flying far and fast; it weaved through the ruins as if someone piloted it. Ultimately it found its target, a shadow wolf, a particular variant of wolf-beast that inhabited the shadowlands. It was twice the size of a normal wolf; its jaw often hung open with an uncountable number of teeth. Its fur was often mangy and black; the beast would drool venom everywhere it went, tainting the lands never to grow life.
The arrow flew right into the center of its glassy white eye. The shadow wolf whimpered while it was knocked back onto its side.
The archer pulled her hood down, allowing her to use her peripheral vision once more; her pointed ears peaked from beneath her short blonde hair; she was an elf from the northern tribes.
“Whew,” A male with brown hair and a green cape whistled. “Nice shot, L’aysisa… Although it’s still not as good as what ol’ Bessy could do,” he said, leaning a peculiar looking red and blue rifle.
L’aysisa scoffed and walked towards the still struggling shadow wolf. “That rifle may be good, but it would never beat class and beauty of a true bow.” L’aysisa’s thick northern elvish accent was slurring the majority of the words. She reached behind her on her hip, gripping the carving dagger freeing it from the sheath.
The approached shadow wolf still thrashed about, black blood leaked from its mouth, turning the very ground underneath it barren in a matter of seconds. She pressed the blade into the wolf’s throat. With a quick twist, it stopped moving. She then pulled the arrow out of the eyes socket and cut the wood right beneath the tip.
The male cringed as he watched her confirm her kill. “It’s also much quicker than that, the poor son of a bitch.”
She stood back up. “Stop being sorry for it; it was a shadow wolf. It was already dead,” she snapped.
“Even still, it probably could still feel pain.” The male tried to justify.
“Good!” She yelled as she led the way under an arch with stairs leading downward.
The male shrugged and followed her down. When the two reached the bottom, they were exposed to a massive room, so large that the ceiling wasn’t even visible; however, they could feel a cold breeze coming from that direction. The two looked on as they passed hundreds, maybe thousands of laid and preserved bodies on the walls.
“This way, Arthur” L’aysisa commanded as she walked through a gap in the burial wall. The hole didn’t look like it was naturally made, but made by an architect; therefore, it had another room connecting it.
“Slow down; I’m coming, I’m coming” Arthur said, following a fair bit away from her. “I’m not as young as you are!”
L’aysisa stopped in the middle of the hall and turned around, staring directly at him with a frown. “I’m three-hundred-forty-six,” she stated.
Arthur finally managed to make his way up to her. “What’s that in human years? It works that way, right?”
L’aysisa turned back around, “Sixty-nine,” she muttered.
“Whoa,” he said in surprise. “Nice, grandma.”
“Shut up!” she snarled back at him.
The two entered the hole; at first, it was like a typical passage, but eventually, the walls became closer and closer together. They went from a fast walk to a slow sidestep with the rocks just barely touching their noses.
A couple of times Arthur’s rifle had to be readjusted to fit through the small openings, but often L’aysisa got a hold of it and threw it to the next small crevice. Whether or not Arthur objected did not stop her ill-treatment of the weapon.
After much maneuvering, the two finally came out to the final room, a pair of stairs that, when followed, took them to a platform with only one thing, a skeleton kneeling and chained to the floor by its hands, neck, and legs. Two black horns penetrated the skull’s sides, and two long fangs were replacing the upper canines.
“L’aysisa?” Arthur called out while scanning the room. With his eyes stopping on the female, he held the rifle in a low ready position. “Where’s the treasure?”
L’aysisa, with the carving blade in her hand, slit her left wrist.
“L’aysisa…” Arthur called out to her. The rifle transformed parts of it levitated inches above the main body; lights illuminated throughout the barrel, indicating his mana pouring in.
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L’aysisa dropped to her knees as the blood gushed from her veins forming tiny pools underneath. In seconds the blood began to move on its own, snaking its way to the skeleton as fast as it could.
The moment the blood touched the skeleton, it began twitching to life, the body started to form muscles, organs, two beating hearts. The room dropped in temperature so fast and so low that the two’s breaths could be seen.
Arthur strafed around her and began taking shots at the skeleton; chunks of flesh exploded from the simple magic bursts from the rifle, but halted mid-air and reformed on the body. Arthur was running out of time quickly; the dark skin was being formed, starting with the legs and promptly racing upward.
He aimed his rifle at L’aysisa, “I shouldn’t have been so naive.” He pulled the trigger sending a magic burst into her stomach.
“Gah,” she grunted. Her entire midsection was now a gaping wound. Her organs were frying in place and exposing her ribs; however, everything was repairing at an alarming rate. The blood she lost only aided in the regeneration of what was behind her.
Arthur dropped his weapon and went to his knees, defeated. There was no chance he would ever be able to win in this situation. All around the room was a mysterious chant; it was deep and throaty.
The corpse was almost completely done with its healing; the body, muscular and demonic, just had the head to regenerate, and it’d be over.
The demonic singing was revealed that it was coming from imps climbing from the walls; the language was nothing Arthur had ever heard in his life. Steadily the number of imps increased alongside the volume.
L’aysisa nearly fainted, finishing the ritual. She dropped to the side on her hands and knees. Her eyes were the same as the imps around, entirely black with a pinprick red dot for the pupil.
“This was a set-up,” Arthur stated. “How could I have been so dumb?” Shortly after thousands of cackling could be heard, one very distinctive one came from the now fully regenerated devil.
“Right you are!” the devil laughed. He looked down to find L’aysisa at his clawed feet. He picked her up from the ground by her head; she gripped his massive arms to try and let go. “Ah! You’ve sold your spirit as well, delicious…” His mood went instantly sour, and he dropped her. “What do you want?”
L’aysisa did not hesitate, “My tribe… My parents, I want them to come back.”
The devil was watching her in silence for a few seconds; it was studying her will before saying anything. He pressed his fingers into her forehead, so hard she began drawing blood. A thick black trail reached the tip of her nose. “Done.” L’aysisa fell to the ground and began seizing, white foam leaked from the corners of her mouth, eventually she remained motionless in the spot she fell.
The devil turned his attention to the male. He waved his finger, and like an invisible rope, Arthur was dragged closer to him. “You tried to stop my rebirth.”
Arthur managed to choke out an “S-sorry,”
“I don’t like that,” admitted the devil. The devil then began walking away and sat down on the nearest podium it could find. “Who’s hungry!?” The devil announced to the room. The thousands of imps screamed and cheered in the ancient tongues, half of them looked malnourished, their stomachs were hollow, and their ribs were showing. “Well, dig in!” The devil yelled. On command, they started to pile in; they were ravenous and unrelenting, imps clawed over one another to get a taste of meat.
Arthur grabbed his rifle and immediately started to blast the creatures, “Not today!” He shouted. He might’ve felt hopeless against the devil, but the little bastards would have to work for a slice of his aged tender meat.
Imp head after head erupted, sending skull fragments and brain matter flying, he rolled under their claws, sidestepped their lunges. His skill as a gunner was very apparent.
The devil watched unamused. It started to cough and cough again. It gradually got worse until the sound was booming and raspy. It broke the podium by accidentally banging its skull. It dropped to its knees and gripped the stone ground forming craters.
The imps instantly stopped attacking to look at their leader. One imp’s head still exploded after the cease.
The devil beat on it’s chest violently; whatever was going on was causing it great pain and distress. Black blood began pouring out with each violent heave.
The devil hunched forward slowly, an orb-like flesh sac was forcing its way up, The sac being too large to exit, so it broke the devil’s jaw. Several tentacles pushed the mouth apart further until the top of the skull was barely hanging on. The orb plopped onto the cold ground in a puddle of black blood.
The devil slumped over by the weight of its skull and laid motionless.
The room was silent, and all eyes were on the flesh sac. The sides parted trailing mucus and blood and unfurled, forming membrane-like wings, the head poked out from underneath, a smooth pink eye-less creature, tiny spikes rode down the back of its neck and onto the tail, two scythe-like appendages revealed to be the only limbs the rest of the body was snake-like, however, just like the devil it had horns curved down and out.
The creature barked several times before it went into a full-on squeaky roar. Like a tidal wave, there an almost visible force being generated. The wave was so powerful some of the imps were flung from the platform. The imps scattered, a few brave unholy souls dared to charge at the creature. However, the closer they got, the harder it was to move; every step was like gravity was becoming heavier. Arthur saw this as an opportunity and grabbed the elf and bailed, heading back the way they came.
The creature barked again to a roar. The imps caught in the blast radius this time screeched and grabbed their heads; moments later, they were beating each other to death, clawing out eyes, gnawing on their arteries. When the last one remained, the creature sent another wave, the imp broke its arm, and clawed the flesh open to reveal the bone underneath; it twisted the broken arm and stabbed itself through the throat with an exposed radius.
The tiny creature, bathed in demonic blood, let out another roar as it slithered to the slumped over the devil; The jaw was already trying to fix itself and revive the devil, but the creature immediately broke through the skull and started feasting on the brain. Gulping down large quantities of meat.
With L’aysisa on his back, Arthur turned back around to see a massive storm forming above the ruins and nowhere else. Fear had never felt so ripe than at this moment; he ran.