Sunday stepped into the swarm of ghouls pushing at one another in attempts to reach the hound. He weaved through them, making sure to keep away from their attacks. Jishu screamed something behind him but the sounds of battle drowned out the words.
The hound's eyes turned to look at Sunday despite the ghouls clinging to its mane and tearing at its flesh. Its snarl was like laughter in Sunday’s ears and for a second, the darkness shifted. The clambering ghouls fell to the ground confused about where their enemy had gone to. There was simply nothing remaining where the hound had stood.
Sunday’s stomach sank and he threw himself forward barely dodging the hound’s open jaws as it appeared behind him and bit at his neck. The beast followed with a swipe that he ducked under – or more accurately, he fell forward which resulted in an impressive dodge. The hound’s second attack ended up crushing an unlucky ghoul into the ground. Sunday heard the crack of its torso caving and saw the dark blood spurting out of the skin torn by the bones that had pierced it from the inside out.
For a second, he wondered if they were truly undead.
Chasing away any stray thought he used the sharp end of the spear and stabbed at the hound. The strike was true and Sunday yelled out in triumph as the point reached the beast's throat, only for the spear tip to stop in its tracks. It had failed to penetrate the thick hide.
The hound shook its body throwing the ghouls that were climbing it away and swiped with its front limb again, managing to catch Sunday in the side. He barely had time to register what had happened as he found himself rolling amidst the ghouls. They proved to be a good cushion as the small monsters angrily stopped his momentum before rushing at the offending beast.
Ghouls scrambled and were back upon the hound in no time, once again becoming a nuisance and stopping its advance toward Sunday. The ghouls were getting into a madder frenzy by the minute – or by the body, as many of them were already lying dead. The putrid smell of death and decay assaulted Sunday’s senses as he took a breath in to calm himself down.
The night had become a cacophony of snarls, screeching, and the sound of claws and teeth tearing flesh apart. The monsters didn’t fear death and neither did the hound.
Sunday stood up. There was searing pain in his right shoulder and part of his back where the hound’s claws had torn his shirt and the flesh beneath. He was thankful for the pain. Back in the city of the dead, there had been no pain, and it had felt wrong. Pain was important, if unpleasant. He was also thankful that there was no danger of bleeding out, as he seemed to have no blood.
He tested his shoulder and deciding that it was not hurt enough to require healing, picked up his spear from the ground.
His second attempt at surprise attacking the hound went as expected. Aiming for an eye proved difficult and he almost stabbed one of the ghouls by mistake. He narrowly dodged the teeth of the hound that tried to take his hand. The beast was fast and its teeth caught the tip of the spear, breaking it as if it were an old toothpick and leaving Sunday with two-thirds of its length and no spear tip.
He swiped with the weapons remains and the wood splintered further as it found the massive body, doing next to nothing. The ghouls’ teeth and claws proved better weapons than his spear by a lot. With a curse aimed at the villagers, Sunday threw the wooden remains at the hound in a futile gesture and summoned a black moth. It appeared out of thin air, surrounded by whisps of death essence, and flew slowly toward the beast, fulfilling the will of its summoner. The insect burst apart in a small cloud of essence next to its face.
The flesh where the death essence reached quickly started changing and the hound whimpered for the first time. Small festering wounds immediately split the fur and skin beneath. Dark blood poured out of them and the beast seemed to go berserk. The damage was not very significant, but the wounds looked painful as hell and quite strange. Some of the death essence from the moth fell on a few of the ghouls, who seemed reinvigorated by it as they jumped at the beast with renewed ferocity.
“You’re not that scary, are you?” Sunday called and barely avoided a flying ghoul as the hound jumped and rolled, squashing the small monsters clinging to its massive frame and tearing apart the rest as they came. The hound still terrified him, and he was sure that had it not been for the ghouls, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. However, the little monsters were here fighting alongside him, tireless and many. The scary part was dying to the hound and what that promised though, not the beast itself even if it was the stuff of nightmares. Sunday didn’t want to know what would happen if one fell under its teeth.
The hound rose on its feet and then it once again fell apart into a cloud of darkness. Sunday turned just as it materialized behind him – the black streaks of strange darkness came together to shape it and its jaws snapped the open air where he had been a moment ago
He retreated backward, deciding to let the ghouls do some more damage rather than risk himself.
It was then that the grating voice of Jishu overpowered the cacophony. Out of his mouth came a single word that made the ghouls freeze in place and hesitate. It was a death sentence for those closest to the hound. The confusion allowed it to rip them apart like dolls in the hands of a mad child. The rest retreated backward, hissing and screeching at the beast. They seemed reluctant, but they listened.
That bastard!
“You never agreed to my offer,” Jishu called out from behind, his voice carrying over the silence left now that the ghouls were passive.
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Sunday scrambled back as the hound didn’t take even a second to consider why it was suddenly free of the pesky vermin and snarling rushed at him with all the ferocity of a rabid wolf. He barely rolled away as it crashed into the rocks around the circle, breaking a large chunk and quickly returning to its feet.
“If I die your spell will be lost!” Sunday yelled out not knowing if it was true. The bastard was using the hound to push him to agree. But did it even matter if Sunday agreed? He could always go back on his word. Why was the bastard so obstinate? Why did it matter if he said yes or no? Was there a trick to it?
There was no answer and Sunday fled again. The hound was fast, but it also seemed to be hurt. One of its legs was chewed at more than the others and Sunday praised the ghouls as he hid between the trees and stones. The hound was in no rush despite its body being torn and covered in blood. Most wounds seemed shallow, barely reaching the flesh beneath its tough hide. Only its face was a disfigured drooping mess.
It kept Jishu and the ghouls in its sight as it circled slowly around, taunting Sunday, daring him to try something now that he was alone.
What can I do? My talents are not combat-oriented. I only have the moths, the slap, and the purple mote.
The hound pounced lightly, almost playfully, and Sunday ran in a circle. Even with all its wounds, the hound was playing with him. As if its purpose was to terrify him, to make him feel like prey did before the claws of a predator took its life away. To break his mind before his body. It was insulting. Sunday once again felt like a street rat, being chased around by bigger kids or thugs, by stray dogs and shop owners he had stolen from, feeling helpless and alone.
Jishu’s dark eyes followed everything that was happening. There was a smile playing on the high ghoul’s thin lips, although he was warily looking at the hound. He was in no hurry to leave, probably waiting on Sunday to agree. However, Sunday didn’t plan on it for now. If he did, it would be only so he could get close enough to slap the bastard.
The many ghouls, however, seemed agitated. Sunday didn’t know how Jishu could still control them considering how many had fallen. The clearing was filled with torn-apart bodies and unrecognizable pieces of flesh that had once been part of the group.
The hound snarled and pounced only to disappear in a flash of dissipating darkness midair. Sunday turned around and prepared to dodge, frantically looking for a sign of the beast. No attack came and there was no trace of the hound anywhere.
He looked toward Jishu and the ghouls and they seemed to be equally confused. The ghouls huddled close together around the undead, who was still gripping his short sword, despite not using it even once.
Further in the darkness, Sunday noticed the worming form of the bound Arten. He had reached almost to the tree line and was heading for the pool of water resting there. At this moment, Sunday didn’t care if the human was trying to drown himself or not. All he cared about was where the hound had gone. It couldn’t have simply left, could it?
He took a breath in and exhaled. The air was back to its original warm and sweet state, and the shadows no longer promised unimaginable horrors. He furrowed his brow and stood up. There were more than twenty ghouls left, with an uncountable number lying in pieces all over.
“Why did you stop them?” Sunday asked, almost raising his voice.
Jishu tilted his head. “I’ve lost half of my ghouls protecting you. I’m not leaving myself defenseless for your sake. There is a limit to how useful you are, and if I cannot trust you to follow me, then what use is sacrificing more?”
“Don’t you care about the spell?”
“Silly young wretch. Your death will hardly be the end of such a spell, and if there were signs you were overusing it, I’d have helped the hound,” Jishu replied. “Join me, and I’ll look after you. You know there is an inferni not far from here. We can both make blood and soul contract to protect one another using a bit of her blood. A small price to pay for trust. How about it? I know you probably have other plans for the girl, but I’m generous as you’ve seen. Let’s share. Do you agree to be my disciple?”
Sunday’s blood ran cold as the undead man stepped forward and the ghouls fanned out to cut Sunday off.
So, that’s one use he has for little Pearl. A contract sounds bad, especially one in a world of magic. Agreeing for now seems to be my only option. I’ll recover my essence and go all out with the white moths before we reach the village. At least if the hound returns I’ll not be alone.
He nodded and opened his mouth. He saw Jishu’s smile grow wider as the words left his mouth. “Fine, I agree—”
As the words left his lips his breath came out in a thin cloud. The swamp had grown cold once again and the shadows had come closer. His eyes could barely pierce the dark veil.
Without thinking, Sunday threw himself toward Jishu with all his strength just as the hound appeared above him a moment later. Its massive body fell where he had been standing and it continued its attack with a powerful pounce. The high ghoul was startled but whatever experience he had came in handy as he easily moved away and swung with his sword to intercept the hound which was almost upon them.
With nothing else to do, Sunday reached for the mote resting in his soul space and continuing its strange dance. There was a weird sensation in his gut as the spell went off and nothing happened, apart from the hound making a strange noise and stumbling. Jishu’s attack found black flesh and cut deep, making the hound snarl in pain.
Sunday didn’t wait anymore. He kicked off the ground and ran through the confused ghouls just as they exploded in action and again charged at the hound. Whether it was by their own volition or because Jishu needed protection was irrelevant.
The hound tore through them like a hot knife through butter. It seemed twice as fierce now. Darkness was pouring out of the wounds covering its body and there was no trace of the blood or the limp. It was like a demonic beast, coming for the souls of the sinners.
Sunday only turned to see the dark body of the beast meet Jishu’s next sword strike. It was a beautifully executed attack and the weapon once again sank deep into the side of the beast. However, the hounds’s jaws found Jishu’s arm and tore it off in one sudden move. The undead screamed and fell to the side as it pushed him and dropped his arm on the ground.
The hound charged after Sunday, uncaring about anything else, and Sunday fled.
He ran without stopping, jumping over the stones surrounding Jishu’s clearing and continuing through the swamp. He weaved through the trees, avoiding mud and water. He could hear the hound panting somewhere behind him.
He knew he couldn’t outrun the nightmarish beast, so he tried to calm down and think. He could summon two or maybe three more moths. He decided to cast once.
The black insect appeared floating in the air next to him and flew back toward the hound. Sunday turned to see what his attack had done and cursed. The insect was too slow.
The hound dodged it easily. The moth was true to its purpose and tried to chase after, but burst into a small cloud of death essence moments later when Sunday was too far.
“Goddamn it!”