Death's End

Chapter 32 - Yurisviel

"Such pretty eyes. I cannot wait to add yours to my collection. Gods, my taste buds are tingling," the man simpered, caressing his tongue against lips of venomous green, reminiscent of the poison ivy at peak maturity. As the mysterious man drew the ethereal hand of onyx closer to his body, a katana flew across, cutting the hand loose from its connecting arm and freeing the trapped lady from the sorcerous grip. Having accomplished its mission, the blade returned to Misaki's hand in a single smooth maneuver.

"It appears we have guests," the man announced, turning his body and finishing off with a low bow. As he rose, his eyes swept across the prince and his companions. "Ahhhh...and just the guests I wanted to see. My dears, you have spared me the onerous, onerous trouble of coming after you."

"Are you bloody sick in the mind?" Yurisviel hollered. "How could you do that to those guards back at the fountain? And...the poor maid...how could you?!"

The man, garbed in a sinister black cloak and bowler hat to match, blinked his eyes a few times in a seemingly confused manner. To match his unnatural green lips, the man had dusted his eyes with a cosmetic lincoln-green powder.

"Why, I was merely doing what all collectors do," he said in a bemused fashion, as if speaking to a group of three-year-olds. "But first off, where are my manners? My name is Malcolm, and I'm a collector. See, I like collecting beautiful stuff. Some human parts can be so...charming, you know. Those I view as pretty, I keep. Those that are not, I dispose. Simple logic. After all, which collector keeps ugly trinkets in his possession, eh?"

As he fished around casually in his pocket, Malcolm continued, "It was the maid's honour that I took a fancy to her eyes. They were so pretty that I had to gouge them out, one by one. A pity that the woman was shrieking so loudly while I was doing the act. Had to squash her head in to silence that awful racket. But well, at least I got what I wanted." He took out a pair of eyeballs from his pocket and showed them proudly to the group.

"You...maniac." Zenvix uttered through gritted teeth. Consolidating the power within his blackened hand, the prince imbued his arrows with scorching flames and fired them, one after another in lightning succession at the shadowy man.

"Ooh interesting, it is as he said," Malcolm said in a delighted fashion, "you do know some magic tricks, Prince Nighvicto."

"You know me? I thought I would remember a psychotic douchebag if I met one," Zenvix said, dashing in to close the distance against Malcolm. Yurisviel was already flanking the man on his right, intending to attack from a different angle.

"Of course I do. Your pretty head was next on his list after the dear general," Malcolm smiled. As the flaming arrows flew close, the shadowy hands lined themselves side-by-side, forming a wall which rapidly melted, converging and overlapping into dark swirling matter. Like a black hole.

The arrows were swallowed up whole, akin to prey eaten by a ravenous snake. Speedily, the dark swirling matter deconstructed and reformed back to shadowy hands once more before zipping down to meet the prince and his lady retainer.

As Zenvix dodged a hand going for his head, he saw from the corner of his eyes a forelimb shooting for the aged knight standing with his sword drawn. No, Dylas! Zenvix thought. He instinctively pivoted his foot in the direction of his mentor.

The knight's eyes opened wide as he saw the insidious hand reach out for his face, as if to twist his head off. Then a flash of brilliant light radiated, blinding Zenvix's eyes for a second. Misaki had one katana drawn, the tip of its long blade touching the ground in a hilt-up position. From the point where the tip touched, a sheen of white, translucent energy seemed to fan out, forming a dome with patterned scute-like sections. As the foul appendage made contact with the dome, its very form disintegrated, leaving nothing but fetid wafts of dark smog.