Against the clock : Part two
One hand on the sword and the other firmly grasping the scabbard as he walked through the dimly lit corridors, the stairs led down deeper into the castle. He came to the bottom of a landing, and a series of rusted swords lay on the floor, long abandoned. A handful of emaciated figures stood over something on the ground. The sound of teeth gnashing, visceral crunches, and slurping echoed off the chamber walls. He slowed his pace. “Thralls,” he whispered to himself. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears. He drew a deep breath to steady himself and exhaled. He stepped forward, and his foot met a rusted blade covered in moss on the ground, causing it to clatter along the floor. He cursed under his breath, the figures eating in front of him quieting, causing the sound in the chamber to disappear. He hoped they had merely had their fill, but one of the figures stood up and scanned the darkness. It emitted a whistling sound, bouncing off the walls of the dungeon, then repeated it, eyes shining in the darkness like those of an ambush predator. The creature let out a wretched gurgling cry, and the other two that had been previously eating came to attention. He cursed under his breath again and readied the blade in his right hand. The first came running, and he struck it on the side of the head with the scabbard, causing the creature to fall off balance.
He readied himself for the next one, and both rushed at him, one extending its arm out to grab at him. He brought the sword down in a downward arc, slicing through putrid flesh and severing the arm. Another assailant rushed, and He forced the edge of the blade through the neck in a stabbing motion. The creature continued to snarl and screech as it slid down the blade towards its guard. He twisted the blade, laying the blade flat, and stepped aside, pulling it along, separating the head from the shoulders. He thought to himself “Heads the key then” as the creature stopped moving once its head was separated he placed the scabbard back over his shoulder and held the sword with two hands the one with a missing arm came forward and he brought the sword down on its neck the blade cutting through putrid flesh with ease and sent the head onto the floor with the other one. The one that had been knocked to the floor previously found its way to its feet, and he ended it with a single strike.
He exhaled and held his sword up to his eyes and slashed it downwards, clearing the putrid viscera from the metal. He knelt over the site of what the thralls had been eating and said quietly to himself, “Not him looks more like some wild animal.” He stood up and walked towards another passage in the chamber, the warmth emanating from it. He walked into a passage. A man was hunched over a table, “Pro-pro-protect must protect,” uttered the man on the table. Rosario stepped carefully around the edges of the chamber, observing the muttering man. He brought the sword up and drew the scabbard from his back, once again placing it in his left hand. The muttering man hissed and said, “G-g-go away, he doesn't want visitors on his property.” Electing to use diplomacy, “Rosario said, " Who's keeping you here?” The man hunched over and said, “B-b-boss protect.” He lunged at Rosario with claw-like nails from his fingers. He reacted just in time; a small scratch landed on his face, and a small droplet of blood beaded and began traveling downwards from a small slice on his face. The man stood up, staring at the ceiling, “the scent of-of-of Peerless.” He lunged again. Rosario blocked the slash with his scabbard, redirecting the assailant. His assailant said “So-so-sorry peerless one” before lunging again. Rosario blocked the easily telegraphed slash again. “Ple-ple-please forgive peerless, do not burn my soul, please peerless.” He lunged again. Rosario blocked one of the man’s claws, but the other caught him on the left shoulder. The nails tore through the jacket, sweater, and shirt underneath, causing the wound to begin to form droplets of crimson. Rosario cursed under his breath and reached over to feel the wound with his right hand sword still in hand, “not deep enough to be a problem right now,” he thought to himself before readying again. The hunched figure was sucking his fingers, the claws that inflicted the wound licking the crimson from the talons. When he finished, he stood there for a few seconds before saying “such-such-such purity, for-for-forgive peerless,” his eyes rolled back before righting themselves and staring down Rosario.
The figure lunged at him again and stayed in close claws, sparking against steel. Rosario saw an opening and brought the sword down on the man's shoulder to no avail; the blade didn't even cut through the skin. He thought quietly, “high class undead, shi,t” and proceeded to step back. His foot tapped against something on the floor, metallic. Without breaking sightline with the attacker, he picked up a second sword from the ground, only slightly rusted. He dropped the scabbard onto the floor and assumed a stance with his sword resting on his right shoulder and the other pointing out to his side. The creature in front of him hissed and said, “lo-lo-lor-lorea stance.” Rosario, shocked, thought “how could he-?” The enemy rushed him again, and he plunged the rusted sword into the creature's abdomen, causing it to squeal in pain. He brought his sword down on the creature’s arm, attempting to cut it to no avail a second time. He tried to pull the sword from the abdomen to no avail; he tried again to the same result. The creature took the opportunity to deliver a palm strike to his left arm, sending him skidding across the ground before crashing into a wall. Rosario stood up, droplets of blood spreading from a small cut on his forehead, obscuring the vision in his left eye. He rushed at the creature again with both hands on the sword, firmly planted in both hands, he brought the blade down again, but misjudged, leaving himself open. The creature delivered a punch to his abdomen, throwing him off balance. He regained his balance and prepared to attack again. He muttered under his breath, “can't die here.” The creature rushed him, delivering a forearm strike to his left side, sending him flying into a wall. His vision blurred, and he heard an ethereal voice say, “The Gemini.”
Senarre ran up the circular stairway, ascending a spiral, and repeating in her mind what the dynamo should look like. Shotgun in hand, she ran to the top of a stair landing. She kicked open a door, checking her corners as she entered the room with the weapon drawn, cold steel in hand. Some pale creatures crawling along the floor heard her kick the door open. She counted nine in the dimly lit room. She said out loud, “Don't get no time to spare,” and trained the shotgun at one of the creatures, hitting it square in the lower abdomen, causing the leg to separate from the body, yet the creature continued crawling at her. She pumped the shotgun, a brass casing left the side of the weapon, steaming jingling onto the ground. “Four,” she sent the pump forward and aimed at the creature crawling towards her. “Body doesn't put 'em down, how bout this?” She aimed up and pulled the trigger. The head of the creature turned to fine mist, and it stopped moving. “Three,” she fired again, “two,” again, “one.” She pumped the shotgun, ejecting its last shell. She threw the weapon on its sling around so that it rested on her back, dinging against the grip of the silversteel shortsword. She drew both of her revolvers from under her jacket. She loosed five rounds from the pistol in her left hand; every bullet met its prey, landing square between the eyes of her targets. She re-stowed the one in her right hand and tossed the gun in her left hand. To her right, she walked over to a door and kicked it open, the blinding sunlight shining through.
She stepped out into the sun, the wind blowing over the ramparts. She stood on an outer wall of the castle, she could see the lake with the 17-02 resting in the water. Leaning over the edge of one of the battlements, looking over to the lake and the ship below, was a man dressed in all black with a cane, smoking a cigarette. The man looked at her, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and letting it drop to the floor. He said, “Yo.” Senarre, through gritted teeth, said, “Where is he?!” The man looked at her through crimson irises. “You made good time, the one who casts no shadow is truly a miracle worker in his own right, then? She pulled the revolver in her hand up to aim at the man. “I really am not a fan of asking more than once!?” Senarre shouted, the man said back, “You humans and your aggression, such a capacity to wage war, some of your creations are quite interesting though, why destroy your own respiratory system for the sake of momentary feelings, truly fascinating. When the swords of bronze were not enough, you made them of iron when the magecraft was not as strong as desired you added words to it, when the weapons of iron were not enough you weaved spell and steel into silversteel, when the silversteel was no longer enough you made weapons to wage war from a distance” the man pointed the cane at her gun “when the weapons to wage war at a distance became widespread you made machines of war and integrated them into every facet of your society, really quite fascinating what comes next a weapon to destroy the very essence of life itself ?”
Sennare shouted, “If you wanted to spill some shit about philosophy with someone you picked to appear to the wrong person, I ain't a noble or nothin shit aint got no meaning to me other than getting my ass whipped by my granny when I got a question wrong.” The man smiled at her, “You are paradoxical in nature, then you wave around your instruments of war and yet hold some dear, is that the essence of humanity to destroy others in the name of one's own desires?” Sennare’s anger reached a boiling point “fuck off then” she pulled the trigger and fired at the man he caught the bullet in the chest and had no reaction to the shot “would you like to try again” Sennare said “gladly im just getting started” she broke open the revolver spilling six pieces of brass onto the floor jingling she pulled a speedloader and placed it into the revolver she thought to herself “i need to finish this in twelve or im going to have to use the sword” she fired three shots at him to no reaction “that almost stung” he began to walk towards she met his advance with three more bullets she placed the emptied revolver back into her holster She said out loud “not a fan of magic but it looks like bullets arent doing much here” she placed the loaded revolver back into its holster under her jacket and reached back and pulled the silversteel sword with her left hand mimicking the stance that she had seen Rosario assume with his scabbard.
“When your instruments of war no longer function, you resort to the fundamentals, then? I shall oblige.” The man pulled on the cane, and a sword was pulled from the body of the cane. Senarre had her right hand balled into a fist with the nail of her thumb tucked beneath her index finger. The man with the cane sword rushed forward, bringing his weapon down from above. She rushed forward to meet him and caught the blade with her own sword, leaving a trail of sparks where they clashed. She forced the blade away from his body and brought her fist up to his face, “bang,” she said as she let her thumb loose from her fist, and a bolt of fire exploded on contact with the man's face. He bolted backwards, breaking contact. “Fascinating, you show both sides of your heritage. I would've assumed someone like you would favor one side over the other based on your perceived reliance on human weaponry.” She brushed a loose strand of hair behind her partially pointed ears and said, “I'm full of surprises.” They circled each other for a bit, each stopping to allow the blades of their swords to spark against the ground occasionally. “You bore me,” she said to the man, and held her thumb against her index and middle fingers. She rushed forward, bringing the sword up in a wide arc from the ground. He assumed a defensive stance, intending to block the blade when she brought her hand to aim at his left leg before releasing her hand, sending a small barrage of ice needles deep into his thigh. “So this is pain then?” he said, “better use some magic of my own then.” he held his hand up and said “anu.” A circle of fire appeared at his side. He dipped the cane in it, and it lit ablaze.
He rushed forward, and she dodged the blade of flame and countered with more ice needles. He blocked them with the flaming sword and met her blade with his own. With his free hand opened his palm and “am” a large spectral fist hit her in the side, sending her skidding off the ground, feet still firmly planted. “All you got is a party trick and a big fist, then?” she said to him, a smug grin on her face. He looked genuinely surprised, “Never had a human or an elf survive a direct strike from that one before, you are quite an interesting specimen.” She rushed in with her fist clenched low to the ground, grinding the sword off the stone at her feet. He moved to strike her with the sword, but she rapidly switched hands with the sword in her possession, letting it come to rest in her right hand. She caught his wrist with her left hand, stopping the sword in transit, and she ducked low to avoid a strike from the spectral hand and forced her blade through his stomach, the force of the blade causing the brittle stone ground to crack beneath her. She twisted the blade to ensure maximum internal damage and jumped backwards to avoid a counterattack.
“Pain pain pain truest pain,” the man began to laugh maniacally, “centuries and no being has done as much to me as this.” He refocused his gaze on her. He held out his hand and said, shouting, “AKUMA YUME-YARI.” A flaming spear appeared in his hand. He dropped the cane onto the floor and slammed the base of the spear into the ground. “BEAL,” a giant flaming mouth with massive canines, appeared behind him. “I'm sorry, LITTLE HALFKIN, THIS ENDS NOW.” The mouth shot out a massive ball of flame. She raised the sword to try to defend against it, but the flames engulfed her and sent her flying into a nearby wall. The man turned to walk away when suddenly all the sound faded. “The origin of all,” she said, forcing herself to her feet. The jacket was gone, the black sweater that was under it was burnt, and the right sleeve was completely gone. She picked the sword off the ground, her eyes glinting a brilliant gold. She raised the blade with her right hand, pointing it at the man, the pistol in her left hand also aimed at its prey. “You hit like a little bitch” she spat on the floor. Saliva mixed with blood hit the stones beneath her feet, the taste of iron in her mouth. The man turned to look at her and said, “You are truly a fascinating specimen, the only mortal to survive it, oh well.” he turned back around, the massive flaming mouth opened once more, and began to generate a fireball.
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Her hands were trembling, she lost her grip and dropped the revolver, the metal dinging off the stone floor, she shifted and placed both hands on the sword, she said, “I'm sorry, pa.” an ethereal voice seemingly emanating from the sword, “The gemini.” The blade in her hands was coated with black crystalline stones, jagged. The second massive ball of fire came at her. She raised the sword, bringing the handle up to near her head, her right eye flickering, glowing golden pattern resembling veins spread out across the right side of her face she readied the blade and swung in a downward arc, as if willed the fireball split in two, one half striking and disintegrating the castle tower behind her, and the other dissipating into nothingness. A wave, like a slash of white fire, flowed across in the arc of the sword in front of her. The castle tower behind the man was cut in two in a perfect arc, like a knife through butter. The man's long coat split in two, a large spray of black liquid spilled out of the man's torso between ragged breaths, the man said, “I hope I may yet cross blades with you again, Halfkin woman.” The man smiled and dissipated into black smoke exactly like he did at the bar the night before she fell backwards onto her back, struggling to catch her breath. As she lay staring at the morning sky, she said, “Thank you for your strength.”
“The Gemini, two as one,” the high-class undead stirred, shouting out in pain, “nee-nee-needles on my-my-my skin.” It turned to look over to where it had sent Rosario flying. He was still in a heap on the ground, his left hand was now wrapped tightly around the handle of his sword, the mana shifted in the environment, oppressive, cutting like a razor blade, digging its edge into skin. The undead’s eyes went wide. “Pe-pe-pe-peerless is a-a-a-a-awake, for-for-for-for-forgive ple-ple-please,” it said, voice trembling. Rosario dug the blade into the ground, using it to steady himself before getting to his feet. Black crystals began forming on his hand, starting at halfway down the fingers, snaking around lines resembling veins of deep purple crimson, and stretching up to halfway up his forearm. The black stones continued spreading, eventually cutting through and poking out of his jacket, sweater, and shirt. He stepped forward, staggering slightly, his left eye glowing a purple crimson, cutting through the sharpened mana in the environment as if leaving a trail behind with each step. “For-for-forgive i-i-i-i mean not what d-d-do” the undead said and rushed forward. Rosario walked forward slowly, letting the end of the blade drag across the stone floor, grinding of metal on stone gave way to a sound of stones cracking. The undead got in close. Rosario held out his left hand, catching the creature's right arm and squeezing down, causing the talons on its hand to shatter into pieces. The undead pulled back, squealing, clenching its hand in pain. It hissed, baring its fangs before lunging again. Rosario brought the blade down on the creature’s extended left arm, the edge of the blade being wreathed in an edge of black stones. The blade cut clean through, not a single hint of resistance, the undead fell backwards, grabbing at where the arm once was with the hand with shattered claws.
“Fe-fe-fe-fear,” Rosario lunged forward, bringing the blade down onto the creature's shoulder, cutting into the torso before stopping. “For-for-for-forgive pe-pe-pe-peerless.” he pulled the blade out. The crystals were more jagged, now cutting and tearing on both entry and exit. “Pa-pa-pain,” Rosario brought the blade around in a flat arc in smooth motion, severing the creature’s head from the body. The body went limp, falling into a heap. The head continued talking “li-li-li-like ca-ca-carmilla,” he picked up the talking head with his left hand still wreathed in black stones and lifted it before squeezing down, crushing it. The head is finally quiet. The black stones on the blade of his sword fell off, clattering to the floor before turning to dust. He staggered backwards, fatigue filling his body, and he landed hard on the floor. He forced himself to his feet, walking over to where his sword scabbard lay, and picking it up, shaking the dust off it before turning to look at his hand with an expression of surprise. The arm was still trembling, bearing the fine layer of black stone in the shape of plating armor from the skin, punching through his clothes' outer layers. He tapped the stones on his skin with his scabbard. The scabbard dinged, but the stone didn't budge. “No time to figure it out now,” he said, walking over to the briefcase on the ground before picking it up and opening it, pulling out a small piece of metal attached to the end of a wire wrapped around a white quartz-like stone. He turned to walk back up the stairs to the entrance of the castle, briefcase in hand, back into the room with the barrier. He walked over to the door that Senarre kicked open and began to ascend the stairs.
Rosario walked out onto the battlements of the castle, bathed in the light of the dawn, and the spire in front of him had been sliced clean in half as if someone had drawn a line through it. He turned behind him, and the spire there was gone, not simply broken, just no longer there. He walked over to a figure lying on the ground on its back. He walked over, gently kicked at her, and said, “You dead?” She said back sarcastically, “Just enjoying the view, you're blocking my sunlight.” He extended his arm, and she took it. She was in a sorry state, her jacket was completely gone, her black sweater was tattered, and burnt on the burnt right arm sleeve was completely gone; she had flecks of ashes and soot all over her brown hair was accented by gray ash. She picked the silversteel sword off the ground and dusted it off. She looked at him, and his left arm had jagged, tear marks on the shoulder visible through the tattered sleeve. “What did that mean?” she said to him. He said back one simple word, “Vampyr.” He walked over to a place on the ground that had a viscous black liquid on it. “What did this?” he said. She stepped forward, picking up her revolver from the floor, dusting it off. “The guy from the bar,” he said back to her, “you kill him?” She looked at him and said, “I'd like to think so, but before he disappeared, he was spouting off some shit about crossing blades again, so I'd assume he's alive.” She placed the revolver back under her jacket and said, “Let's get this show on the road, then if I were a bad guy, I'd probably be set up in the central keep.” The pair began to walk along the ramparts to the central keep of the castle.
While walking the ramparts, she said, “What's with the hand?” He said back to her, “What's with the eye?” She said, “What eye?” he lifted his right hand to his eye and said, “Your eye is glowing, and there's a pattern coming from it, it's spread all over the right side of your face.” he pointed down with his right hand at his left and said, “like the markings between the plates on my hand” they picked up pace running along the ramparts nearing the keep she said back “interesting well try to figure this out when it's all said and done”
“Marw,” Paulida said as he walked into the room. The skeletal man resembling a corpse stood in the center of the room. He turned to Paulida and said, “How long has it been, Projecto? Almost two decades since the day we burned her and the children, since you sought my death, since I burned so that you may live, you're a hard one to find, you know I searched for years and years, and you finally come back into grasp.” Paulida reached back on muscle memory before he remembered his machete-like sword had broken. “It didn't have to be like this, Marw, you don't have to keep working with them now, I'm not even sure if you're human,” the man that looked like the living dead said back calmly, “as if you are one to judge what is human, how many times have you died how many have you been born, how many since the man that once was occupied the vessel was at its help.” Paulida shifted his stance, raising his index finger on his right hand across his chest. “I don't want to fight you, Marw. We can still just go our separate ways, no need to hold onto a vendetta from twenty years ago.” The skeletal man tilted his head. “Nineteen years, four seasons, and thirteen days, but who's counting?” he stepped forward. “They spent years sending agents after you; they would spend weeks cleaning up their pieces every time one would find you all for what, so you could live as a no-name drifter or a hunter at the lap of anyone with a bag of coin.” Paulida, reacting to the man walking forward, readied himself for an attack that never came. He said to him, “I'm not that man anymore. The life I lived then is not the same as the one I lead now.”
“How curious is this, Ishmael Santos, Proyecto alvida-12, or the other I'm speaking to right now?” Paulida’s face shifted into one of anger, “I do not recognize those names as my own. I didn't want to have to end this with violence, but I'm feeling as if you give me no chance, Marw.” he prepared to lose an attack when the door to left of the room flew off the hinges kicking up dust through the obscured air two figures one stood one with a glowing red-purple glowing eye and the other with gold featuring patterns on the face. The dust cleared, revealing Rosario's blade drawn in his right hand and scabbard in his left, and Senarre holding her gun in the right hand and the silversteel blade in the left. Marw turned to look at her, his pale eyes went wide. “You took a little something that night, then a souvenir perhaps, or is this some sort of sentimental thing to you? Perhaps you are more Ishmael Santos.” Marw laughed, “To think we thought our work was over, stamping out the blood line, were I still associated with them, I would've frothed at the mouth of bringing one in.” Sennare screamed out, “Cover your ears!” She aimed her weapon up and said, “Lorea.” Rosario threw the briefcase over to Marw, and Senarre fired three shots, piercing the briefcase. It briefly glowed before exploding. The blast blew the windows out of the keep and kicked up debris. Marw shouted, “Well then, this is an uneven fight. Suppose I'll take my leave, perhaps next time we see each other we can come to a more satisfying conclusion than this.” he disappeared into a tornado of blue flames.
The dust and smoke cleared, Senarre ran over and jumped at Paulida, hugging him. Paulida looked confused, saying, “Why.. How are you here?” She looked up at him and said, “What do you mean I've only been gone a day and a half?” She looked at him, confused, “It's been three days, some freak brought your broken sword guard to the bar we were at and said you were in danger.” Paulida scratched his chin. “I fought someone who was dressed sharply with a canesword, and he broke my sword, but I had to break off the fight cause I was at a disadvantage. Did you encounter him here, too?” She shook her head and said, “Yeah, he talked too much.” Paulida asked her, “You fought him?” She said, “Yeah, I won.” Rosario stepped forward, looking around the room. Senarre said to Paulida, “We wouldn't have been able to get here even if it wasn't for him.” He looked over at Rosario and said, “Thank you.” Rosario looked back at him and said, “Welcome.”Senarre said to Paulida, “he was able to get us an airship, even though it's parked down by the lake.” Rosario staggered forward, losing his balance before collapsing on the floor. Senarre and Paulida ran over, “Are you ok?” He gave no response. The black stone plate on his arm turned to dust, and the pattern on his skin began flashing. Paulida looked at Senarre, and the one in her eye also began flashing. She leaned over and fell onto her knees. “Don't feel too hot.” She fell over unconscious, as well the flashing pattern disappeared from both of them.
Paulida set Senarre and Rosario down on the gravel of the beach, both still unconscious. He pulled the pistol from the holster at Rosario's side and fired off three shots into the air. The airship, still skimming along the water in the lake, came closer. The door on its spine opened, and a small figure stepped out. They said, “I am the great shinobi shirotora who dares to disturb.” he stopped speaking. Paulida aimed the weapon at him. He stopped talking and meekly said, “My name is Kian, I'm the pilot for big bro and big sis.” Paulida shouted over, “Help me get them on board.” He carried Senarre to the deck and laid her down before going back for Rosario. He asked Kian, “You got beds or somewhere to put them on this ship?” he shook his head and said, “Down the ladder and to the left.” He carried Senarre to the room on the left with the plush bed and said, “This must be the master bedroom.” He went back up and brought Rosario down, and took him to the room on the right, placing him in the lowest bunk.
Paulida went back up and said to Kian, “Good job, you got anything to eat?” Kian said we don't have food because we left in a hurry, but I have some of these. He unrolled a small cloth and said, “Big sis Vina’s special Beef liver and salmon snack bars.” Paulida held out his hand, “beats nothing, hand one of those puppies over.”