Belize, 1453 CE - Keegan
KEEGAN coughed as he squirmed free of the collapsed structure. He placed the former hostage child atop the thatch and extricated himself. His right leather shoe slid from his foot in the chaos, tangling in the wreckage.
Damn. Those were his favorite shoes. But leather decomposed and wouldn't disrupt the timeline. He left it behind and continued his task.
He jumped over the remaining mess, landed on his shoulders, somersaulted to his feet, and raced after the purple outline of an enormous cat, hoping he chased an actual demon and not some concussion-induced hallucination.
The declarations of village folk behind him confirmed he chased the demon. They could see it too, and that meant it was more powerful than a level three. Low-level demons were imperceptible without proper training. The computer had been wrong. Again.
The computer had made many mistakes as of late, and there were dozens of odd occurrences in the field that had never before been reported. Maybe Namid's idea hadn't been wrong: what if all of this was Craeu's latest plan? If so, they must discover how the bits fit together before the unseen trap closed around them. For now, his piece of the puzzle involved the purple cat spirit, and he must deal with it accordingly.
He followed the cat demon into the forest, the game of tag beginning anew with an exhausted, injured, and confused participant. Keegan cut corners and made up the distance one precious step at a time. His body threatened to give out, but he wouldn't permit it. He pushed onward, desperate to catch the creature.
He stumbled into a shallow, flat-bottomed stream and found the cat demon waiting for him. Keegan hunched over, hands on his knees, catching his breath. His eyes never left the creature. Twenty paces separated them, but considering his confusion and exhaustion, it may as well be a hundred. The creature, larger than a jaguar with a strange yellow mark on its forehead, approached in that sleek way only a cat can: one foot in front of the other, shoulder blades protruding, eyes sizing up a potential meal.
Keegan continued huffing, despite regaining his breath. If the demon thought him winded, he might take it by surprise. Back the way they had come, voices called, coming nearer. Villagers were searching for them, and he had to end this fast if he hoped to escape.
His head swam, colorful dots appearing in his vision as the cat advanced. This must be one hell of a concussion, he thought. As the cat leapt at him with ethereal claws doubtless as sharp as the real thing, Keegan wondered how much of this was a trick of the injury and how much was real.
Best to treat it as reality, he mused. He sidestepped left a moment before the cat reached him, hoping he moved out of the creature's way. He summoned his pumpkin flamberge to his fingers as he dodged and knew from the resistance on the handle that he had caught the beast full-on.
Its own momentum carried it forward along the blade, feeling to Keegan as if he drew it through gelatin. The creature's piercing scream drowned out cries of the advancing natives as it collapsed on itself. At least, he hoped that's what had happened. He spun, which made the world spin more than he liked, and released his weapon into the ether.
He followed the creature to where it had collapsed and gathered its corpse into his energy-laden hands. The wine in his clothes stank, the colors encroached on his vision. His fingers weren't reacting to his demands, sluggish and clumsy.
Keegan fumbled with his custom-wrapped dagger handle, freeing the mahogany obsidian blade and stabbing the cat demon. His blade missed, deflecting off the rock in the stream. The second attempt struck what remained of the demon, ensuring it could never return.
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The Survivor - Veil Walkers Book One
FantasyWhen Danika survives the attack on her village, her rescuers are suspicious. According to them, she shouldn't have survived. They offer her a choice: join their demon hunting team, or die. Amid mounting information leaks and suspicious encounters, h...