Darksiders: Deathly Aura (Book 1)

Chapter Nine Kin-Slayer

Death's orange eyes flickered to life as he awakened. He pushed himself up of the floor and glanced around, taking inventory of his surroundings which he quickly realised weren't much.

The rider was surrounded by almost complete darkness. The only illumination came in the form of a dull, yellow glow.
Another thing quickly struck him.
He was alone.
Not Carina, Soren nor Dust were to be seen.

The Horseman took a few cautious steps forward, but stopped as a black mass rose up before him.
It took a vague humanoid shape. It gazed at him with yellow eyes that glowed just like the inside of its open mouth which was lined with black, jagged teeth.

What took Death aback most was when it spoke.

"...So, you've come, pale rider, baring your sin like a badge of honour..." A pause. "What is it you seek?"

At first he didn't know how to respond, but quickly gathered his rushing thoughts.

"Mankind's restoration" he answered simply.

The silhouette remained silent for a moment, but only briefly.

"...Humans. So weak, such a waste. They would not survive nor do they deserve such a resurrection!" it exclaimed, anger seeping into its voice.

Death however, kept a level head.
"That's not for either you or I to determine. I wish to do this for War's sake alone; to spare him from the Council's judgement"

The two yellow orbs that sat in the figure's skull narrowed.
"And what of the Nephilim? You would save one above the rest?" it asked accusingly.

"The Nephilim are a threat to the Balance itself" Death replied, but little prepared him for what came next.

"If we'd taken Earth, none of this would have happened! But you! You rode against us! Slaughtered us where we stood, bound our souls in your amulet and gave it to the Crowfather for safe keeping!" the figure retorted, hatred dripping from its voice like venom. "But, it would seem the old one grew tiresome of it".

A smirk seemed to spread across its dark face as it and Death looked at the glowing green shards now lodged in the rider's chest. Vengeful voices could be heard chanting faintly.

The Horseman ignored them and fixed his gaze on the figure.
"Who are you?"

"I think you should know. There was once a time you called me Brother..." it answered.

At that moment one name, a name he'd tried to forget, came rushing back to Death's mind.
"Absalom"

The shadowy Nephilim broke the rider's gaze.
"I've forsaken that name... I am Corruption now, and soon I will be all!"

He paused as he glared at Death once more.
"The wretched day you rose your scythes against us, I was born..."

Right there and then, Death was attacked by a barrage of images, memories, that toyed with his mind. With little choice, the rider allowed the onslaught to run its broken course.

<<>><<>>

Battle cries, dying screams, final words. These are what partly filled the choking air of the ravaged area. Helixes of smoke and burning embers rose in varied intervals.
Hundreds of bodies, some no longer recognisable lay where they fell. All of them had one thing in common.
They were slain by a Horseman.

Standing among the fallen was Death. Crimson soaked his scythes, his armour, his skin. The souls of the newly dead were drawn into the amulet hanging from the rider's neck, casting a green glow onto his masked face.
A sudden, familiar voice made him turn.

"Death! Why? Why do you slay your own?"
It was Absalom.

"The Nephilim have no claim to Earth!" Death answered, his grip on the blades tightening.

Absalom's grip on the haft of his axe also strengthened.
"There are worlds for angels, demons and even the dead alike! Why not for us?" he exclaimed in anger.

Death rose his scythes.
"Earth belongs to man!"

Absalom suddenly lunged forward. Their weapons clashed.

"It belongs to those who take it!" he spat through gritted teeth.

Death's eyes widened and narrowed just as quick. He forced back against Absalom who began fighting forward.
Both Nephilim battled fiercely, their strength almost a match.
Axe and scythe clashed relentlessly, the sound of clanging metal echoing for only fresh souls to hear.

The two weapons clashed again, this time locking against one another. Anger fuelled both their wielders, but only one drove the blade home.
The smallest slip from his opponent was all Death needed.

Absalom suddenly cried out in sheer pain as the Horseman plunged a scythe right through him, tearing it out again.
The dying Nephilim collapsed face up onto the ground.
Only then did Death realise what he had done.

The blood red pool that was quickly forming turned black and began enveloping Absalom, dragging him under. He reached out with a desperate, trembling hand. Without a second thought, Death frantically grabbed it. But the darkness was too strong.
With a final cry, Absalom, his own brother, was pulled from the rider's grasp.

A few moments passed before Death sank to his knees. The still gathering souls streamed into his amulet, one after the other. Unable to hold it in, a roar of mixed emotions erupted from his throat as he threw his head back.

It was this day that begun corruption and crowned him Kin-slayer.

<<>><<>>

The sound of his own cry echoed in his head for a moment, demanding to be remembered and never forgotten.
Bringing his vision and thoughts back into focus, Death gazed at Absalom in his current state. He made no attempt to speak for he had nothing to say.

"My darkness now controls the Tree, from decaying root to withered limb" Absalom announced "Soon all of Creation will follow and not even Death himself can escape it!"