The monster's sneer is pure contempt, her lips curling to expose fangs slick with blood. She draws herself up, tilting her head, and spits at my feet with a guttural hiss, voice echoing in that ancient, oily tounge of old: "Foetorem odoris tui sentio, abominabilis es."
["You smell foul, abomination."]
I smirk how ironic this filth is calling me the abomination. Ridiculous even. I smile back at her ignoring the insult. For the first time since my marks burned themselves into flesh and soul, I don't fight the voices or fear their power. And in turn they don't hijack my will, they don't twist my emotions out of control to satisfy their hunger. Instead, we join together for one singular purpose and by doing so my senses, my focus, my entire being comes together with a clarity that is almost euphoric. The world is so much clearer, every heartbeat in my cohort I can hear, every shift of the monster's weight a ripple through the air. I feel amazing. I feel unstoppable.
She moves faster than any human eye could track, her body dissolving in a flicker of shadow and light, the air around her distorting as she opens a portal, intending to strike me from behind, to toy with me before the kill. This is how she killed the others in a blur. But I can hear her, the subtle whine of the void tearing open, the pressure change in the air as it punctures the world. My sword is already moving, slicing toward the spot she'll emerge less than a second before she reappears.
She materializes, claws swiping, but my blade is there first. She hisses in surprise, weaving away so quickly the tip only grazes her pale skin, not enough to draw blood but close. She flickers back, eyes narrowing.
"Quomodo...?"
["How...?"]
I ignore her. Her eyes go cold with hate, black as the abyss she crawled from. She bares her teeth and glances behind her, toward the huddled remnants of House Apophis my house, what's left of it, wide-eyed and trembling all of them save Lucian who was still looking on with a look of pure hate. She means to slaughter them first, to make me watch.
I snarl, stepping between her and the group, my voice a blade. "You are fighting me, worm." I leap forward, faster than I've ever moved my hate and anger synchronizing with the fearmonger mark. There is a reason it manifests it's self as a wolf, as a hunter it must be stronger, and faster then its prey. My blade sings through the air. Behind me, someone gasps causing me to smile in joy. Yesss see me in all my glorious glory as I save you all.
We collide in a blur of steel and claws, the world narrowing to the ring of metal and the hiss of air. My sword bounces off her claws hard, nearly shattering my arms with the impact. She moves like a wraith every motion fluid and precise. I strain every muscle, sweat pouring down my back, my chest burning as I twist and duck, evading blows that would eviscerate me if they landed. Her claws whistle past my face, one swipe catching a lock of hair and slicing it clean.
None of my strikes land but that's to be expected, I didn't think even with this buff I would be able to contended with her physically like this and win, not that I wasn't trying. I'm waiting, watching, feeling for that perfect moment to use my other power, the one I know she can't anticipate. Veilshaper, the illusions I will weave into her mind will be enough to send even an ancient abomination into a grave.
The monster laughs, high and wild, eyes shining with dark joy. "O, puer! Iam saeculum fuit ex quo homo tam egregius mihi restitit. Unus ex dilectis eorum, nonne?"
["Oh, boy! It's been at least a century since a human was this good. One of their favorites, aren't you?"]
I sneer, dancing back to avoid a kick that would have crushed my sternum, my breath ragged but my spirit burning hotter than ever. "I reject the existence of good gods," I spit, voice cold. "Whatever gave me my powers is not something I worship. It's damn sure not something I fight for."
She throws her head back, laughing so hard the sound cracks the air. "Ita vero?"
["Is that so?"]
She circles, claws flashing, eyes never leaving mine. "Tamen benedictus es. Quidquid sentias, servus eorum es. Fugere non potes."
["You are blessed by them regardless. So, no matter how you may feel, you are still their slave. You cannot escape."]
I parry another blow, feeling the jolt up my arm, and glare at her with all the hate and defiance I can muster. "I am no slave." The words are spoken with absolute conviction.
She laughs again, the sound grating, almost gleeful. "Omnis servus est alicui rei."
["Everyone is a slave to something."]
We move again, a brutal dance of blows, each time she vanishes, I hear the whisper of the void and strike just as she emerges from her portal, keeping her attention on me and not the rest. They cant die, I still need them to get to the academy after all.
She's clever, this thing more than clever, she's ancient, cunning, a predator who's learned every dirty trick in the book. In the blur of our battle, as I dart and weave and swipe at her with my blade, she suddenly vanishes not just one portal, but five, six, a dizzying fractal of void-tears in the air. I spin, listening, reaching with every sense, but she's everywhere and nowhere at once.
I hear the whisper of her movement a split second too late.
Her claws rip into my side cold, searing agony, the sound wet and wrong. I snarl, stumbling backward, clutching at the wound as blood pours hot over my fingers. The pain is blinding, a red haze at the edge of my vision, but I force myself to stay on my feet. I will not fall.
She lands lightly a dozen paces away, black eyes wide and gleaming, a cruel smile stretching her lips. Blood still drips from her claws my blood and she licks it from her fingers, shuddering with pleasure.
"Gratias tibi ago, puer. Diu non memini tam iucunda fuisse. Vis tua vitam meam diu sustentabit."
["I should thank you, boy. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun. Your life force will keep me full for a while."]
I narrow my eyes, forcing my breathing steady. The gash in my side burns, pain and cold radiating outward. I can feel the blood soaking my shirt, running in rivulets down my waist and thigh. My knees threaten to buckle. Wouldn't it be nice if I could use my fucking Regenerator mark but alas no golden healing, no miraculous closing of flesh as I still do not know the trigger. I can feel every ragged tear, every nerve screaming with pain. The world feels thin, the edges of my vision flickering.
She paces, circling me, her smile growing ever wider. Then she starts in on her threats brutal, vile, shit so evil it makes me want to barf.
"Audi, puer. Cum cecideris, omnes tuos amicos coram te disrumpam. Prius eos vi superabo, deinde cogam ut invicem se laniant. Puellas tuas servabo ut diu clamorem eorum audias. Te ipsum servabo ultimum. Videbis, senties, omnes cruciatus meos."
["Listen, boy. When you fall over, I will tear your friends apart in front of you. First I will violate them, then I will force them to slaughter each other. Your girls, I will keep them so you hear their screams. You, I will save for last. You will watch, you will feel every torment."]
Her words are cruel, meant to kill my spirit, to drown me in a vision of helplessness and agony. I see the survivors in my mind's eye Zaria, Rye, Lucian, faces pale, eyes wide, their hope flickering out. My hate spikes with every threat, a volcano in my chest, burning away the pain and doubt.
She laughs, a sound like bones snapping, and launches herself at me no portals, no tricks, just raw, bestial speed and strength. She wants me to see her coming, wants the terror to be the last thing in my eyes before she knocks me down.
But I'm done being afraid and I've now got her to lower her guard. The best time to strike is when they enemy has thought themselves victorious.
I let my sword fall, the blade thudding into the earth. The pain from my side nearly doubles me over, and I taste blood in my mouth. I raise my hand, fingers trembling I pour everything into it: the hate, the fear, the agony and I show her worst fear.
Her body locks up, every muscle gone rigid, eyes wide and staring. She stands frozen, quivering, as she tries to fight off the assault. Her claws dig into the earth, tearing great furrows in the moss, but she can't move, can't break free.
She trembles, caught between worlds the forest and the hell I've woven for her. I know what she's seeing: the weight of her sins all of the people she's killed pouring back into her mind in a rush all t once, and the nothingness that waits for her at the end of immortality. She sees herself die, she sees herself cease to exist.
I step closer, my own blood still pouring down my side, my vision swimming, but my voice is cold, steady, merciless. "Rise so high," I whisper, the words like a curse, "in mud you'll lie."