Cinder and Bolt looked around them - it seemed that because they were technically the latest on the scene, they were in the outermost area when it happened, and thus the only ones left.
“Alright.” Cinder took a deep breath, looked Bolt in the eyes before nodding at this partner of his for the last few months: “We should go. Let’s go! GO!” He barked and roared before pulling himself up and running at the bald man.
Cinder ran with almost every last bit of strength left in his body. He needed to do this - he knew this would be their last chance.
“Quick! There are two more grenades in the jeep! Shoot it!” The bald man’s face had shown wrinkles that were never there before, his face was pale like a corpse that had been stored in preservatives for ages, and blood was leaking from the corners of his mouth: “Quick! Shoot it!”
“Bolt! You get the one in the back!” Cinder turned his head while making for the driver’s seat to remind Bolt, but his partner was not there. At the corner of his eyes, he could see Bolt limping away from the site, desperately trying to make as much distance between him and this mansion.
“Hurry!” The bald man begged.
Cinder opened the door, lifted the grenade launcher splashed by disgusting rotten flesh and skin, pried open a metal crate also covered in fresh filth and loaded one of the two remaining grenades.
“Boom!” Even at a distance he could feel the scorching liquid’s heat warming up his face. The cloud shrieked from the burn, struggling and shrinking visibly in size. But at the same time, the bald man coughed and heaved as the burning liquid spilled on the golden threads connected to his palms - he was impacted as well.
“Again!” The bald man shook his head and screamed with a hoarse voice: “Hit it again!”
Cinder took out the last grenade in the crate, his fingers were trembling and almost made him drop it on the ground. His muscles whined and ached as he held the launcher up and aimed. His vision was blurry, both from the sweat that got in his eyes and from the chilling fatigue spreading through all of his muscles and bones.
“Click”, the sound of the trigger never felt so pleasant and relieving. Everything slowed before Cinder’s eyes. The rolling and shapeshifting dark cloud, the whining golden threads, and the grenade making its way to the top of the building in an arc.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
The grenade inched towards the dark cloud, while the cloud’s shape shifted and turned, hands, elbows, legs and mouth bursting from every corner trying to tear the golden threads restraining it. With every struggle attempt, the bald man was getting weaker as well.
The threads were getting thinner. And what made it worse was that the woman’s faces appeared at the weakest parts of the threads and were grinding at them with her teeth, even though the scorching energy from the liquid and the thread itself was making her face smoke.
Yet, it worked. The threads broke, the coins were flung away like pellets off slingshots. The bald man was thrown back a few steps, blood shooting out of his mouth and nostrils. Red was also dripping from his ears and eyes.
But just as the dark cloud attempted to break free, the grenade exploded right on top of it, splashing a new wave of burning liquid all over the space it occupied. The cloud screeched and tried to shake off the fire it could not dodge, but like oil tar or napalm, the fire just stuck to it and kept burning. With the last hope lost, Cinder tried to run away, but a few hands made of shadows had already reached his throat, his ankles and his wrists.
Bit by bit, life was squeezed out of him. His entire body grew cold. Terrifying images flashed in his head, while sleepiness and numbness overtook his consciousness. Not even the howling dark fog blasting his way could wake him up.
Explosions, fires. Two more grenades exploded in mid air. Heatwaves blew past Cinder, though he could no longer feel it and was only pushed onto the ground by the wind. Another jeep gradually pulled behind the first jeep in which the bald man came.
The dark cloud was writhing and screaming from the orange flames consuming its energy. Three men jumped off the jeep, two in the front each holding a grenade launcher, the one on the back was wearing a taoist robe, holding a lantern in his right hand and with a wooden sword behind his back.
“Fire again. Take no chances.” The man in a taoist robe ordered.
Iron and Copper nodded, then squeezed the triggers of their grenade launchers at the same time. The last two grenades exploded right where the dark cloud was engulfing it completely. A red talisman followed, shooting right at the center of the cloud.
“Crack!” A bolt of lightning descended from the sky and struck the dark cloud answering the invocation of the talisman. The cloud was torn into several smaller ones, all of which were burning.
Dark threads manifested amidst the torn clouds, at the same time as dark liquid foamed around them attempting to put out the fires. The man in a taoist robe pulled out his wooden sword, chanting an arcane spell ready for a final strike.
The clouds merged together, still with flames on different spots. A giant, torn up woman’s face appeared at its center, with blood gushing from her eyes and nostrils. The cloud shot at the jeep and the three men, just in time to be jabbed in the forehead by a flying wooden sword.
Neither Iron nor Copper had ever seen a paranormal entity of this size and might perish before. It would be a first for most people. The giant woman’s face shattered, as flames consumed all of it along with the dark cloud around it.
“Old baldie. Old monk.” The man in a taoist robe sat beside the pale bald man: “After all these years, never imagined you would go before me. Guess you were just too eager, if you’d just waited a bit…”
One piece of brick broke and dropped from a pillar in front of the mansion. Then another. Then another. Then more from almost every corner of the mansion. Before long, nothing could support the weight of the entire building anymore, and it collapsed on its weight.
“Another site gone…” Iron sighed, then looked back at the man in a taoist robe.
“I told you not to mention it.” Copper sighed and facepalmed, “You’re in charge of the report this time.”
The man in a taoist robe coughed, droplets of blood were spat onto the ground beside him.