Darksiders: Deathly Aura (Book 1)

Chapter Fifteen The Wailing Host

"A-all of humanity?" Carina asked, unable to stop her voice from shaking.

"Every last one of them" Death confirmed as his eyes fell on an opening.

Behind the Wailing Host's head was a glowing hollow. This was where it housed the souls of man.

"If we destroy this thing, I'm wagering they'll be freed" he added.

With that statement, Carina's fearful expression changed to one of sudden determination as she gave a sharp nod of her head.
"Right. So turning back is out of the question"

"Completely" Death answered, the end of his statement drowned out by a deafening roar.

The Wailing Host's outburst made the mask on its face tremble. It clenched its fists, swinging them down.
The Horseman and Auralin instantly dispersed in opposite directions, weapons drawn and manifested.

A shrieking caw from Dust's grey beak made Death look back to see the Host quickly dragging its arm behind him. The rider jumped to the side, scraping the railing of the ledge, the clawed hand barely missing him. He hurled a scythe after it, the spinning blade tearing into the jade limb before returning to him.

Watch out! Soren exclaimed aloud, not bothering with telepathy.

The Host repeated its action, focusing on the Auralin that ran to its left.
Carina dove forward to avoid the attack, rolling into a crouched position. She quickly fired a flare of aura, searing and shocking the beast's fist.

On both occasions, the Wailing Host lived up to its name, screeching in pain with each hit dealt to its hands.
It became quite clear that this was its weak point.
Both opponents made the decision of where to focus their efforts almost instantly.

After receiving multiple strikes, the Host slammed its fists down to lean on them.
Carina and Death wasted no time at all, rushing in to deliver as much damage as possible.
After sustaining a particularly strong strike to its upper arm, the Host crumpled, falling forward onto the platform.
Seeing the dark mask shielding its face, Death began hitting that instead with both haft and blade of his scythes. Large cracks started ripping across the seemingly rock hard surface of the armour. However, the Horseman didn't get the chance to fully break it.

With pale yellow eyes open wide, the Host glared at them before rising itself up. But instead of attacking, it sank back into the hole in the floor. Before anyone could pursue it, a pillar of almost blinding light shot up from below. Death cautiously reached out to touch it, to see if it was passable. He immediately retracted his hand however as a pain went through him. Not burning or shocking, just pain.
Angered, vengeful pain.

All eyes watched as figures emerged from the blazing glow.
Each one was a faintly shining skeleton armed with a sword.
Each one was once human.

The skeletons launched themselves at those that disturbed them, hissing and roaring.
With no choice at all, Carina and Death began confronting them.
As each horde closed in on its target, the front lines of its members were sent flying back, some crashing into those behind.

Joining his scythes into one, Death hurled the weapon. It circled around him, tearing the nearest skeletons apart; their glowing bones scattering across the pavement.

As Carina fought back against her own onslaught she could practically feel hatred radiating from them. All the while, her mind swam with questions, barely staying afloat.
Was this what all the souls of mankind had been reduced to? Skeletal savages driven only by rage and vengeance? Was there anything left worth saving? Worth fighting for?
...Yes. There just had to be.