Chapter 18 - Hunger’s Incarnation
Dominic could barely notice Orieke’s actions after his sudden warning. As Merino grunted and struggled on the floor, trying to keep the snarling muzzle of that… thing away from his face, the [Perfumer] opened one of his vials and dispersed a low cloud above their heads. Immediately, the elderly man felt the lessening presence of the Scarlet Sun – denied due to a sheet of fog that now hung over them in a protective embrace.
The [Death Doctor] risked a glimpse at Orieke, and when the imp noticed his straying gaze, he gestured for him to do something, unwilling to intervene beyond necessary.
And Dominic was not the first of the learning trio to move in Merino’s aid. While he took his bearings, Kurian advanced with a vengeance toward the creature – barely stopping to analyze the situation. His dagger – a curved thing made of black porcelain and a hilt of carved horn, one of the few items he took with him – shook on the boy’s hand, but Kurian kept it steady with the sheer tightness of his grip.
Dominic stood frozen as the boy faded into the background, prowling quickly towards Merino – who now was dead set on trying to avoid a bite on his shoulder. The man looked again, unsure if his eyes were deceiving him, but it was hard to lock his sight on Kurian. Like oil, the boy’s very presence was slippery against his brain – easily ignored unless he made a distinguished effort to keep focus.
It didn’t matter that much in the end. Despite his attempts, by the time Dominic understood this effect came from one of Kurian’s skills, the [Survivor] had taken matters into his own hand. With an almost inaudible grunt, Kurian called for the manifestation of his loss.
“[Griever’s Burden].”
The spell took effect immediately, pressure rising around the lupine Nightmare as if the air had turned into lead. It didn't turn into a squishy, cartoony mess like the White Stalker – but the increased weight on its back made it lower itself until it hugged Merino like a far smaller and cuter puppy.
Meanwhile, the [Apothecary] suffocated.
It took the [Death Doctor] a moment to realize, mainly because Merino's gasps didn’t sound so different from when he struggled against the creature, but the way his veins popped under his skin and his face turned into a deeper shade of pink were a dead giveaway that Kurian’s spell was affecting more than the boy realized.
And the [Survivor] wasn’t paying enough attention to realize this. Fueling the spell with mana didn’t require half as much focus as the boy seemed to have right now – and his haunted eyes, burning with pain and sorrow, only made the situation grimmer.
“Kurian, stop!”
Dominic pulled on the boy’s extended arm, mindful of the wicked dagger he had been using as some kind of focus for the spell. The movement was enough to bring Kurian’s focus back as he realized what he was doing with wide eyes. The dagger shook more, Merino’s gasps for breath followed by the resuming snarls from the creature.
With the spell over and Kurian taking a few seconds to calm down, Dominic found himself moving to assist the fallen [Apothecary]. He didn’t summon his scalpel, not yet, instead moving according to other instincts – ones that dictated having Merino on his feet was far more valuable than whatever small incision he could leave on the creature.
Instead, like a knight in a joust, Dominic lined his cane forward at the height of his waist and silently prayed Biakis’s magical candle would let him do this. With a squeaky scream, the [Death Doctor] advanced, sprinting the small distance only to stock his cane’s bottom on the creature’s torso like a pole.
The Nightmare, its legs still wobbly from the changing pressure caused by Kurian’s spell, turned out to be far more easily dislodged than the elderly man expected. With a small whine, it skittered sideways and abandoned Merino – who scurried to his feet as quickly as possible – while the monster changed focus towards the wheezing old man.
Dominic didn’t have the time to assess whatever damage his sudden sprint had caused despite the lack of pain, not with the creature ready to pounce at him this time – and he braced himself to burden the impact.
It never came. The [Death Doctor] watched with surprise as the beast, instead of jumping forward, propelled itself backward with its legs – diving butt-first back into the tall grass and disappearing with not a single sound. For a moment, Dominic spun around trying to detect any movement, worrying about another attack from the Nightmare, but the grass stalks – even when watching from above – showed no sign of something in their midst.
Finding no target, Dominic turned to Orieke. The [Perfumer]’s expression was serene – and he met Dominic’s eyes without hesitation.
“What was that?!”
Orieke looked up at the protective cloud he had created, checking for something. His head lowered again giving an aloof response to Dominic’s question.
“A Devourer Dog. A Nightmare.”
“And you only say that now? You knew they could be here, didn’t you?”
Orieke hissed once, a long affirmation that sounded shrill to Dominic’s ears. The [Perfumer]’s face was cold, eyes following his movements with what seemed like… disappointment.
The [Death Doctor] stilled for a moment at the notion, but if Orieke expected him to curl back, he was very wrong. Riding the edge of adrenaline, Dominic turned back to Merino and managed a glimpse at the [Apothecary]’s bleeding arm – probably caused by one of the Devourer Dog’s claws.
“Why didn’t you tell us anything? Merino could have died!”
“Yes. He could have.”
Dominic stilled, Orieke’s cold tone causing shivers down his spine. The elderly man looked wide-eyed at the [Perfumer], a sinister understanding making itself present as he once more looked at the emotionless face of Orieke.
“You would let it happen?”
“Indeed. It would’ve been a terrible thing. Devourer Dogs are well known for their bite – they would chomp the boy’s bones like a knife through boiled ikriats.”
Dominic looked agog at the [Perfumer], he turned around for some support among the other two but Kurian was distracted – and Merino looked chastised. Orieke sighed.
“It was your mistake – calm down, Dominic. Let me finish.”
The elderly man swallowed his tongue, fuming – but Orieke was serious enough to glare with all the pressure of his levels behind his eyes.
“It was your mistake. All three of you. You assumed I’d interfere – that I’d keep you all safe and fight your battles. Not once did you think of asking me about what we could find. You resigned yourself to mediocrity. To the minimal effort.”
He began to tick things off with his fingers.
“What type of Nightmare is out here? What about their domains? How can we find water to drink after our canteens are empty? How will we fight the cold at night? Not a single question. Not a single concern over your own well-being.”
The [Perfumer] nailed Dominic down with his gaze and the [Death Doctor] understood where the disappointment came from. He tightened his grip on his cane, eyes down as the angry warmth turned into the uncomfortable heat of shame.
After all, Orieke was right. Dominic had taken the higher-leveled man’s protection for granted. He had expected some risk, mostly due to the nature of the System, but none so high.
Then again…he had known adversity would birth greatness in this new reality of his. And he had thought of this more like an outing than an expedition, despite the magical items he carried.
“You could have told us still. There was no need to risk so much at the beginning.”
Still, Dominic spoke. Petulant and wrong, the elderly man felt it in his bones and cringed inwards at the words – but they still came. A last response.
The [Perfumer] advanced like a shadow, bringing the odor of vanilla with such thickness that it turned pungent, making Dominic’s eyes water.
“You still don’t understand. This is the Fear-Full Woods. Everything here wants to kill you, poison you, maim you, or devour you. You, like us and everything else that isn’t fear incarnate, are prey. This is no outside learning experience. I’m not the mentor of any of you. Information is asked and is learned. You want to know something? You ask. Because knowing matters. It’s how we bridge the gap when our levels and skills fail us.”
Dominic’s mouth moved again, but Orieke interrupted him with a glare.
“You’ll think me cruel. But I took you three out here to learn and level – because the threat we face, us that live in Kiringar and care for our kind, is serious. The Cult, the Ashen Lungs, ourselves. You three are new to this, too scared or too naive or too marked to fully understand. This is how I ensure you’ll survive.”
He licked his lips, locking all of them with his eyes. They were sharp, now that Dominic paid attention – like a fox’s.
“So no. There’ll be no help. You’ll win or you’ll die. I will teach you when asked and only interfere when the odds are impossible or unknown. You will suffer, but you’ll learn from every mistake. Like the one you all committed at the end.”
Kurian shook his head, frowning at what Orieke said.
“What? Another one?”
“Yes. Your mistake was letting the Devourer Dog leave alive. After all–”
If Dominic hadn't been paying attention, he’d say it was staged to ensure Orieke’s words were taken seriously – but the elderly man had been looking. Ashamed, yes, but he was not so stubborn that he’d ignore the [Perfumer]’s experience and advice. So when the howl pierced the quietness of the red meadow in front of them, and was answered by another half a dozen, Dominic knew they had screwed up.
“Devourer Dogs hunt in packs.”
***
“Oh, God.”
Dominic took a hesitant step back, Merino and Kurian gasping at the sounds. No longer did the [Apothecary] have the seriousness he had seen during their preparations. With his dirty face and building bruises and scoriations, Merino was a testament to fear that was only made worse by the wide eyes behind his goggles.
Turning towards Orieke, he still kept that same serene face – eyes far away as he seemed to listen intently to the howls.
“Seven. Definitely an Alpha in there. Hm. You all are lucky – a smaller pack than most.”
Dominic’s mouth opened like a fish’s in dry land – words failing to convey the despair he felt.
“Lucky? How are we supposed to fight–”
“You lost the opportunity to ask all that. They’re coming. You have… three minutes at most. Do your best.”
And with that, Orieke crossed his arms and waited. Dominic’s grip on his cane was white-knuckled – and not even the smoothness of the metal was enough to calm him down. He’d wallow for longer if it weren’t for Kurian’s voice behind him.
“Dominic… what are we going to do?’
The boy was sweating, hand shaking as he held the dagger in a fighting stance – one that he struggled to imitate with his skewed balance and lack of training. The [Apothecary] beside him looked at Dominic with the same askance, but his stance was shier.
Ignoring the infuriating passivity from Orieke, Dominic clasped a hand on each of their shoulders, hoping that he could be as convincing as he needed to be. His smile was fake – but now, with incoming combat looming over them, Dominic Jones found himself easily calling for the same instincts that guided his fight against the White Stalker.
“We’ll do it. Let me just think for a moment.”
Thoughts ran like lightning in his mind. He was no history geek to learn about ancient strategies that didn’t resume themselves to ‘shoot them down’ or ‘bomb them’. There was never a need to think about such things, even if he enjoyed the odd museum here and there.
So how would they fight them? He needed a plan and he needed one now. But how does one fight seven creatures with supernatural constitutions at the same time?
Dominic Jones stopped. That was the main question. He had found it – and all he had to do now was change the way he was seeing it.
The perspective shift came easier than most. The [Death Doctor] broke the question down, restitched it again, and looked at it through new lenses – all of that by bottling the rising fear deep inside his chest. And what Dominic latched on, a few seconds after narrowing down their conundrum, were four words.
At the same time. The [Death Doctor] knew that they could kill a single Devouring Dog with some effort – God, he had killed a White Stalker and it was both stronger and more ferocious than the lupine Nightmare – so all he had to do was ensure they came one at a time.
Dominic’s eyes opened and they were sharp.
“Alright. This is what we’re gonna do. Kurian – I want you to use your [Unseen Presence] and keep yourself hidden in the grass. Your job will be to stop as many of the Dogs as you can with [Griever’s Burden]. Don’t burn your spell too quickly, alright? Just slow them down. Can you do it?”
He looked at the boy deep in his eyes, the milky one, covered by a Linkri-made eyepatch, as blind as ever underneath it – and the other one, dark as midnight, stilled on Dominic’s own after the boy took a deep breath. Like a human child, Kurian nodded.
Before he scampered away, the [Death Doctor] used his touch to try something new – an idea that he was fairly certain would work.
“[False Life].”
The spell took hold, and Dominic watched with excitement as the same dull gray shine covered Kurian for a second before fading away at the [Death Doctor]’s quick mental request. It would keep him safe from some blows if anything went wrong.
With no time to waste, the [Death Doctor] pointed at the broken grass stalks where the Devourer Dog had dived in on its way out and watched for just a second as the imp boy disappeared amongst them.
It did feel bad to send him out there. Part of Dominic balked at the idea of putting Kurian at such risk – the very possibility of doing the same thing to a fourteen-year-old Jules being enough to make his heart slow down to almost a stop – but their situation was beyond them. And Kurian had, of all three of them, the highest chance of survival due to his skill.
Dominic didn’t stop to think for long. He had neither the time nor the cold heart to think too much about the consequences. Instead, he turned towards Merino.
“We need something to stop them from coming. I can handle one of them with my skills, but two will be difficult. That or something able to weaken them even more. Ideas?”
“I… Uh, have some fire reagents. Fire would slow them down, right?”
Dominic thought for a moment, ready to nod his assent, when he saw Orieke move from the corner of his eye. A small shift of his posture, but from the aloofness he had seen previously, now there was a certain degree of energy to his stance. As if the [Perfumer] was ready to move.
It made him think. Fire would work, but the air was dry… so dry that it would take but a moment for it to grow beyond their control. Dominic stared at the red grass reaching his chest and remembered a detail every single person that has ever seen a news report on an incendiary accident knew of.
“No. The smoke will make us suffocate – the weather is too dry for it to be safe. Do you have anything else?”
“I have… uhm. There’s a spell I have – but I don’t use it often. It would slow them down, but won’t harm them.”
“Can you make only a few of them go past you?”
“It… should be easy enough. But will you be alright handling one by yourself?”
The [Death Doctor] eased his grip and smiled at the [Apothecary].
“I have a plan. I think. But if you have anything to help I’d appreciate it.”
“Alright. Uh… here.”
Merino fiddled with his bandoleer, taking a small vessel from it and offering it to the elderly man. The bottle was transparent glass, topped by a cork and housing a liquid of a deep green shade.
“What is it?”
“...Poison. You, uh, got one of Saleko’s items, right? You can give it to it. The toys know what to do.”
Dominic cocked an eyebrow but took the bottle in silence. He left Merino to his preparations and turned to Orieke.
“How much time?”
“Thirty seconds, give or take.”
Dominic nodded. It might not be the best plan ever, but he’d do what he could to get ready. Now, though, it was time for him to finish his plans.
***
Half a minute was a short window to get yourself ready to fight incarnations of fear. Dominic Jones didn’t complain – it would be useless, even if he dearly wanted to do it – so, instead, he multitasked. Pulling the items out of his bag, the [Death Doctor] set down the doll he had taken from Saleko, giving it the poison vial, and spoke to the only one left around him. The fourth item he took would have no place here.
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“What are they?”
Orieke was not cruel without need, so instead of filling the precious seconds with asinine information, the [Perfumer] gave a concise explanation.
“A face of the fear of hunger. Of spending the winter without food, of discovering your stock won’t be enough to last for so long and there’s nothing you can do.”
Dominic nodded, setting the doll on the ground. It was a faceless mannequin – all white and made of wood – and carried a single sword in its hand, the other being closed around the poison vial. Reaching his knee, it was definitely a tall toy, but the [Death Doctor] was unsure of how well it would work.
Nevertheless, Saleko had told him the command word – and though the elder imp had been offended Dominic would ever doubt his work, he did ensure it would function properly.
“Zariastro. Play Time.”
The [Death Doctor] cringed at the words, embarrassment making his cheeks a darker shade even though his whisper was impossible to hear. The doll didn’t seem to care about his feelings though, jerking into motion with a low series of snaps as it tested its ball joints.
For a second, it swung the metal mini-sword with far more expertise than Dominic would ever expect, but that fascination was soon overwhelmed by the sight of the doll opening Merino’s vial and dipping his sword in it.
The metal dripped with viscous poison along its edge, but it was not enough for the mannequin. Slowly, it picked the vial that was easily a quarter of its size and showered itself in poison like the most murderous toy ever created.
Dominic ignored the psychopathic similarities with a certain red-headed doll.
“Huh. Uhm… Orieke – do you think food will distract them?”
“It should.”
All or nothing then. Dominic could already hear the snarls coming at him, somewhere in the grass field – and though he wished to set up another trap with their rations, there was no time. Somewhere, probably to his right if his ears weren’t deceiving him, he heard Kurian’s voice.
“[Griever’s Burden].”
His tone was muffled, but Dominic heard the lack of that edge it had when the boy first cast it against the Devouring Dog. He didn’t know if it translated into the spell’s impact, but Dominic took the less hateful tone as a win.
Three separate whimpers marked Kurian’s success. Dominic counted the ones left, four of them, and began to pray that Merino would manage to stop at least two. The doll could probably take one of them by itself – and it was, though it pained him to admit, a far better fighter than he was, which told the [Death Doctor] a lot about his chances.
Well, at least it didn’t have any skills. The elderly man consoled himself with that thought, silently palming his scalpel on his hand. The other, held his cane by the middle, almost like a club – it would have to work.
From his side, Merino called for his spell, making Dominic’s hand sweat. Thank the Lord Almighty that there was no problem in holding his blade.
“[Entangle]! Oh… darn it. I only got one!”
Merino shouted from somewhere amidst the grass, equally hiding at the edges of this small clearing they had found themselves in. Dominic couldn’t stop himself from chagrining at the fact they hadn’t even stepped foot properly in the area.
Still, Merino’s warning came at a good time. When the three Nightmares burst from among the red grass blades, snarling and drooling like rabid dogs, Dominic could finally get a proper look at the creatures.
They were skinny, as tall as a german shepherd, and with black rubbery skin pulled taut against bones and eyes that gleaned with the same red maliciousness he had seen in the White Stalker. Their muzzle was long, like an alligator’s, and filled with both long and small fangs in an unholy marriage that would leave most demonologists crying.
Unlike the other Nightmare Dominic had met, though, they had no white armor covering their body. Instead, their skin was shiny, wet, and Dominic was certain he would never be able to hold one down without it slippering from its confines.
The elderly man would be satisfied with the horrifying visage of the two of them, but it seemed the foreign Gods that ruled this land wanted to see him either killed or traumatized, so they sent the largest and most emaciated creature Dominic had ever seen.
It was still a Devourer Dog… in some ways – but instead of having skin pulled taut against its bones, this version looked more like a hollowed-out fat version. The slippery skin sagged in folds of skin, a testament to the worst possible esthetic outcome out of bariatric surgery.
It was also taller, reaching his upper stomach, which ensured it would remain just as hidden as its brethren in the open meadow. Its tail snapped like a whip, something ivory shining at its tip, but it didn’t move. Not yet at least.
Their stalemate was broken by a small white blur soaring through the air like a hero out of some fairytale. Saleko’s doll advanced towards the Alpha of the Devourer Dogs like a spinning wheel of death, its blade’s edge turning the doll into a spinning saw.
The encounter between both opponents ended up in a stalemate – the Nightmare was too slow to grab the mannequin and Zariastro’s blade was unable to cut on the rubbery skin with just a passing cut.
Dominic, however, had no time to follow more of the combat. Both Devourer Dogs barked at him and advanced without care, drooling snouts closing in on the air like a bear trap.
“[False Life].”
The [Death Doctor] called for all the vigor he could muster, fighting through the pain behind his eyes that appeared as soon as he used the spell. The creatures used the unexpected distraction to jump at him, but Dominic scurried backward immediately – he was well aware of the odds his body weight would have when facing the mass of the two beasts.
[False Life] took hold, however. A little more painful – but since both spells required a single injection of mana, it seemed there were no greater problems. With both beasts looking at him, the [Death Doctor] implemented his plan, praying that it would work.
With his hand on his cane, holding it like a mace, Dominic Jones called for the memories of the few horror movies he had ever watched. He wasn’t a big fan – there were better ways to speed one’s heartbeat – but he did watch a few in the past years when Jules had been into that type of stuff.
And he knew his fair share of myths. So he concentrated, ready to jump away at any moment – but the creatures were circling him, sniffing the air. One of them tried to approach Orieke, but the Nightmares were not so stupid as to be suicidal.
It sniffed the [Perfumer] once and the Devourer Dog focused back on Dominic immediately, looking over its shoulder as if it had seen a true biblical devil instead of an imp.
With a small grunt, the [Death Doctor] felt ready – and just as the predators pounced on them, fanged maws open to take a chunk out of his flesh, Dominic Jones dove.
Into his cane.
***
The idea behind it was simple.
Dominic was a ghost. He could possess objects. He also knew that it was possible to control parts of something from the inside – like a poltergeist. The problem, however, was how durable the possession was.
You see, the [Death Doctor] was fairly certain there were limits to this ability. He knew he could only exert as much force as he usually could – a fairly loose limitation and one he had abused more than once when taking care of his patients – but also, his possession didn’t mean the object would become sturdier. There was no addition to it, when he got inside something, Dominic was ethereal. Weightless.
It was still a way of keeping himself safe. He just hoped whatever damage the cane accrued – because it would come to that – wouldn’t transfer to his own body.
Nevertheless, his cane, a gift from Armstrong years back, was surprisingly light and far easier to control than the bodies. It wasn’t hard to move it around – and levitating it, though that felt like the wrong word as it was more like him invisibly carrying it around, cost almost none of his energy. Because, as Dominic got more and more accustomed to the process, he realized there was a limit.
He couldn’t stay inside something forever. It was half an inner warning and half due to the expenditure of energy. The [Death Doctor] didn’t know what it was, or how it worked, but it did feel similar to when he used one of his skills – like giving something you couldn’t see or quantify, but that fueled the ability.
His vision was odd as well – he could perceive from all angles in a headache-inducing way, but it was limited to a radius of a couple of meters, more than that and there was just… nothing. It was hard to describe – not darkness, nor some kind of barrier, just the absolute emptiness, like what you’d get from trying to see from your elbow.
It made him shiver inside the cane. Dominic purposefully ignored it, focusing his sight on a smaller angle – one that encompassed both Devourer Dogs. While the Nightmares snarled at the flying cane, one of them trying to sniff the air for its lost prey, the [Death Doctor] advanced.
He screamed a war cry – only because no one could hear it, for it was embarrassing to do it in front of others – and tried his best to pummel the first beast with the metallic nob, slamming the cane downwards like a mace.
It… wasn’t the cleanest blow. In fact, he got the distance so wrong that all he managed to hit was the soft earth as he overcompensated downwards and struck the floor. Dominic rose again, a little stunned and a lot more embarrassed, and quickly dodged an incoming ambush from the Devourer Dogs by hugging the ground with the length of his new vessel.
The creatures arched above him, the sight of two snarling predators flying over your immobile, puny body not being easily ignored. Still, the [Death Doctor] tried again, and slithering over the floor, Dominic used the short grass to sneak around the creature.
Inelegant was one word to define the situation as the cane slithered towards one of the beasts in silence, Dominic using everything he knew of military boot camps to try and be stealthy. His heart beat faster the closer he got to the monsters, and when he thought the moment was right – and had enough time to settle down his thumping heart – the cane swept around the beast's legs, making it buckle for a moment.
Immediately, the [Death Doctor] rose from amidst the grass and rematerialized–
–partially. His right arm surged from the cane in a spectral visage, appearing as if held by the wooden object in an utter twisting of how reality should look like. On its hand, a small blade moved as quickly as possible, trying to pummel its edge on the creature’s throat – but the beast moved and all Dominic got was to stab it between the ribs.
If his skill was right, then it would be enough. The small incision leaked the same black blood he had seen on the White Stalker – and that was all he managed to see before the other Nightmare dove towards him. With his sight, he managed to dodge the widening maw, but a paw struck the cane and sent it careening away like a frisbee.
Dominic grunted at the impact, the strength of the creature far greater than he expected, but what appalled him was the pressure. Like his side had been struck by a sledgehammer, a sudden expelling of air left him gasping and limp on the floor before adrenaline took hold and he glided away from the duo. [False Life] held strongly, but now the [Death Doctor] was certain he could get hurt even in his state.
He’d have to be careful. It seems asking for invulnerability had been too much.
For a moment, his brain managed to hear the other sounds around him, the little respite making him able to distinguish the small whines far behind him and the sounds of the doll’s joints creaking as it tried to kill the Alpha somewhere beyond his awareness. The others were still holding, but Dominic knew it wouldn’t be for long.
If he dallied, they would all get overwhelmed. He needed to thin the numbers – and fast.
With a new hurry guiding his limbs, Dominic went forward towards the creatures – the aggressive stance didn’t come naturally, but desperation turned into courage as he vehemently denied the instinct to flee.
He met the first Nightmare with a quick blow on top of the head – a lucky blow he tried to replicate again before being swatted away for his troubles. Still, the bruise marked the second creature as wounded – and though he had wished for a deeper hold to use what he had planned, every edge counted in this situation.
The [Death Doctor] called for the skill quietly.
“[Aggravate Wounds]!”
Blood spurted from the side of the Devourer Dog. What was once a small incision opened up as if he had twisted the knife inside the previous wound. On the other Nightmare, its head swelled greatly on the point of impact – and Dominic noticed how lazily it blinked.
A possible concussion meant distraction, and the [Death Doctor] was quick to capitalize on it. Gliding low on the floor, Dominic dove between the legs of the Nightmare in a hurry, a single hand materializing beneath it and pointed upwards.
The spectral scalpel cut from chest to bowel. Dark blood rained on top of him, but Dominic mentalized a thick mud bath in a luxury spa to avoid the bout of gagging that was coming. Still, the elderly man continued his violent steps and returned to the creature by rising upwards and then coming down like a meteor on its spine.
“[Aggravate Wounds]. [Aggravate Wounds].”
Dominic pumped the skill twice, praying that it would be enough, for he refused to watch whatever mangled mess the Nightmare’s lower body had turned into after he felt the skill latch again.
Swallowing his nausea, the [Death Doctor] dove into combat once more. His quick movements had made it difficult for the other creature to attack him, even with the closer distance, but now that the first of them was down the Devourer Dog attacked mercilessly.
And he bit on air with the strength of a hydraulic press. Dominic had to levitate backward to avoid the fanged mouth, and even though the wound he caused had bled more, the flow had been quick to stop. He needed another great cut to take it down.
For a moment, they danced on the edge of a razor in what was the deadliest and most horrifying game of fetch to ever exist. The wooden cane darted from the creature's mouth, a sudden arm appearing momentarily to try and strike the creature, but the nimble Nightmare managed to scamper away from the edge or received only a glancing blow.
It went like that until the Devourer Dog came out on top. As Dominic tried to dive beneath to repeat his first success, the beast managed to find him first and pummeled the cane onto the soft earth with its paws. Dominic’s vision shifted to loamy soil until he readjusted it and managed to avoid the bite that was coming.
He only dodged the worst of it. The [Death Doctor] was not quick enough to hug the ground, and the maw closed on the cane’s rubbery tip.
[False Life] buckled immediately. The spell gave in as the creature ate part of the wood, and Dominic felt what it was like to have the bottom of his feet ripped apart. He struggled to keep the possession going, the pain making his vision darken and turning the world hard to focus on – but at least he had the mind to materialize his arm beneath the beast’s maw in a last act of vengeance.
His scalpel found no stopping as it dug into the creature’s head, and pushed in until it pierced the brain.
It fell limply on the floor, and Dominic could no longer hold onto the magic keeping him inside the cane. He rematerialized beside it, eyes closed tightly as the stinging pain waned. Hesitant, the [Death Doctor] opened his eyes and looked at his sandals, but there was no blood or sign of a wound – and yet, he felt the wound.
It wasn’t visible, but the attack had taken something from him. Dominic felt weaker – sapped as if bitten by a vampire. Instinctually, he understood any attempt at possessing something or someone before he recovered would be a risk.
Grimacing, the [Death Doctor] rose to his feet with wavering motions – his arms felt weak, and supporting his weight on his feet stung like hell, even if it lasted just for a moment – but he did try to be as fast as his body allowed. God, if he hadn’t been exercising regularly this would be a chore and a half.
Scalpel in hand, he took a deep breath after deep breath, air rasping against his throat as he exhaled through his mouth. Dominic took in the sights with utmost focus, ignoring the defiled bodies beneath him for the sake of his stomach.
At a corner of the clearing, Saleko’s doll still fought against the Alpha of the pack. The larger Devourer Dog apparently had succeeded in ripping one of the toy’s arms off, though Dominic couldn’t tell if the poison coating the doll had any effect. Where the poison really shined, however, were in the wounds Zariastro’s sword managed to cleave.
Around the parted flesh, cut or sliced or stabbed depending on the blow, the dark rubbery folds of skin had turned into an almost stone-like gray. He couldn’t tell if that was the Nightmare equivalent of infected flesh, but considering the creature grew more rigid around the affected parts, the [Death Doctor] took it as a great sign.
He turned around towards the grass – and his worry over the silence made Dominic cry out for those still hidden.
“Merino, Kurian, you can let go now!”
The call was loud, his voice breaking in the middle as the sudden dryness in his throat made the words hard to pronounce. Dominic tried to swallow, wetting his lips with his tongue in this dry air, and watched with his scalpel at the ready for the next enemies. The sounds of the mannequin’s fight against the Alpha served as background until the first of the Devourer Dogs appeared.
This one already had cuts all over its body – small pinpricks with a darker coloration from whence blood had congealed. Almost as if it had gotten stuck in a thorny bush.
Dominic lightened the weight on his legs, ready to jump and dodge the attack, but the moment the Nightmare got ready to pounce, what seemed like a stray arrow whistled through the air – biting deep into its torso and sending it whimpering to the side. The [Death Doctor] turned to see who it was that had done it, only to find himself face to face with a dissonant sight.
Merino, clothing stained with the blood-like stains of the grass’s dew, carried a heavy crossbow in his hands like a vampire slayer out of a gothic tale. On his face, a proud and nervous smile.
“I got it!”
Dominic stared at the scene and chose not to comment, leaving the [Apothecary] to reload his weapon. Instead, he attempted to power walk towards the newly wounded beast – but his fatigue had shown its ugly head, and he was too late to do anything before the other three creatures appeared at the clearing.
Choosing to retreat and join with Merino, the [Death Doctor] spoke to the young imp – sweat stinging his eyes and his scalpel pointing forward as if a far more threatening weapon. The [Apothecary] had his aim locked on one of the beasts.
“You have anything else?”
“Nothing that would make a difference.”
“Your mana?”
“Empty.”
Their quick talk was soon put on hold as the first creature jumped at them, receiving a crossbow bolt square at its chest for the trouble. Merino went further back, already reloading the weapon, when Dominic plunged head-first into his second plan with a silent prayer on his lips.
“[Undying Heart].”
The [Death Doctor] called for his skill and felt the surge of energy and power come from within. His reflexes turned sharp as adrenaline turned his heart into a hummingbird’s so fast it was beating. One of the dogs tried to pounce at him, snarling all the while, and the elderly man used the burst of health from the skill to quickly kneel on the floor in an attempt to let it soar above him.
It was a mistake. His back pulsed and though the skill allowed him to ignore the pain, the discomfort made him slow enough that the other two advanced at him from different angles. Dominic found himself fighting from the ground, unable to get up, and only when he lodged a hand on the Devourer Dog with a bolt stuck to his torso did he manage to retaliate.
“[Aggravate Wound].”
The hole opened enough that the bolt fell to the soft earth, slipping with a wet sound from within the creature. It bought him enough time to get up and fend off the other two, as the third had joined combat as soon as it landed. The situation was dire, and it only got worse when Dominic tried to pump the skill once more and found it unresponsive.
[Undying Heart] made it easier to struggle against the odds, the strength it gave him made his glancing blows painful, and the claw attacks turned into stinging problems instead of debilitating. He had successfully managed to dodge every bite, aware of how their maws showed utter void instead of an organic throat, but with every second his skill faded a little more.
Respite, however, came from somewhere unseen.
“[Heavy Blow].”
Kurian appeared beside one of the dogs, his dagger’s tip plunging into the creature’s neck with far more strength than there should have been. The [Survivor] twisted the blade, ripping the oily skin even further as the Dog gurgled its own blood, but his sudden reveal carried its own risks.
One of the dogs came from the boy’s left side, his blind side, and Dominic had to scurry forward to stop its advance before it bit the boy’s neck. Kurian turned too slowly, not aware of the threat, and Dominic managed to stab it with his scalpel and send it off course.
The price, however, was steep. The second Devourer Dog managed to close his maw on Dominic’s shoulder for his effort, taking a chunk of flesh with him before Merino’s bolt hit it in the eye.
The [Death Doctor] screamed at the sound of his ripping flesh more than the pain. [Undying Heart] made it hard to feel the ache, but the elderly human had to hold his mind steady not to freak out even more at the sight of his mangled shoulder. Thankfully, it hadn’t taken too much of his clavicle – and the fact he could see the bloody bone almost made him faint right there.
He was not ashamed to say he cried a little. Nevertheless, the fighter continued – though Dominic was in no place to participate further. Kurian managed to land another [Heavy Blow] on the Devourer Dog, fighting with far more ability than Dominic expected before he fainted left and managed to slit the Nightmare’s throat.
Merino, in the meantime, prepared another of his bolts and shot at the Alpha – Dominic’s fight making them end up dangerously close to the larger Devourer Dog. He managed to hit a fold of skin with no great effect, though it was no problem considering the poison's effect in slowing the creature down.
The doll had done an amazing job at stopping the large specimen – and though it had one arm missing for its efforts, the sheer amount of poisonous blows it had delivered had finally made the creature stop. And it knew that too.
So the Alpha gave one loud bark and took a stab wound from the toy with no qualms for its safety, choosing instead to advance fast enough that the doll became unable to take the sword back, and it advanced at the trio.
Merino shouted something incomprehensible and Kurian, who had been closer to the creature, froze at the sight of the larger-than-him Nightmare advancing and the sound of its skin folds flapping against each other. Dominic shouted, but the boy was sent flying like a ragdoll before he managed to intervene.
Like the snap of a thread, Dominic felt more than heard or saw his [False Life] spell be consumed by the blow, protecting Kurian with what it had. And with the sight burning on his retinas, his heart beating like a marching band percussionist’s wet dream, Dominic advanced.
It wasn’t pretty or calculated. It also wasn’t silent, with the shout that escaped his lips as he rode on the wave of adrenaline, suddenly uncaring about shame. But when Dominic Jones latched onto the creature’s skin folds like a climber and stabbed it again and again, he felt painfully alive.
His heart, through the loudness of its beat, told him it was wrong. Such savagery was unbecoming, rude, something that he shouldn’t let the others see. His brain claimed it necessary – it was a threat, it had hurt a child, it had harmed a friend.
It deserved it. And still, Dominic stabbed, the discussion going on in his soul, but left answered – for the Alpha had one more trick.
Its tail, that hairless limb that snapped like a whip, showed the truth behind Dominic. A faceless mouth grew from its tip, and like a scorpion refusing to be killed by anything but its sting, it struck like a spear into the [Death Doctor]’s midriff – impaling him until it bit the Nightmare’s own heart.
The world… faded. Dominic felt the pain, even through the last breaths of his skill. The hole on his stomach sounded wet when the tail retracted from within him in a last movement. He slipped from the body, unable to keep a handle, and his eyelids were impossibly heavy.
He struggled to breathe, drowsiness taking him further and further, until a hand slapped him on the cheek and the stabbing pain grew more pronounced.
“Merino!”
The voice cried out and Dominic fought against himself to see who it was.
“Do it, now!”
Another kneeled beside him, one that smelled like green life instead of all-encompassing vanilla like the first one. He picked something from the hand of the man with a hissy voice.
“[Efficient Dosage]! [Boost Effects: Medicine]! Is this… Is this a…?”
“Focus on your job. I have to see Kurian.”
Dominic felt a liquid be poured on his wound and the sheer smell of life made him want to recoil, but there was no sting from the magic. The [Death Doctor] felt his skill fade, completely, and the exhaustion that settled in made him want to sleep – but the sensation of his organs regrowing, his muscles connecting again and his skin covering what was a gaping hole on his torso made it hard to give in to the drowsiness.
When it was over, however, nothing stopped him from falling asleep.