Evading Darkness

Chapter 7

I turn slowly around and face the skeletal being. What remains of its decrepit jaw drops open as a devastating, bloodcurdling screech emits from the foul recesses of its would-be throat. I could only shield my ears, as the painful noise seemed to tear my head in half, forcing me to a knee. As the pain grows, it's as if I'm struck with a ton of bricks, as all of my, and his, memories flood my head at once. It was as if I was watching several movies, simultaneously. Both good and bad, every emotion we had ever felt taking hold of me at once. As the memories recede and grow quite, so, too, does the pain.

I force myself to my feet and stare hard at the creature before me. I now know what it is. A shadow of my grandfather. A small fragment of his soul. Everything that remains of him. The smallest piece of him that was able to attach itself to me, as I crawled from this place, only hours ago. And, now, it seems, he has drug me back to this personal Hell, created to hold the spirits of my people. To confine them to a world where their power could be harvested by the one that put them here. My own grandfather, the creature that stood before me, now. His soul had been corrupted, and thus he had been disfigured to appear as something out of nightmares.

"You cannot escape me." The voice was deep, raspy and seemed to come from inside my own head. A voice I had feared all this time. A voice I refuse to succumb to again. "You belong to me."

I look down at my hands, examining the flesh. I would never beat him. not like this. Without a word, I release my true form. My skin turns dark red, even darker under the red sky, and my eyes pitch black. My back rips open as a pair of large wings shout from my back. A pair of large, thick, jet black horns protrude from my skull. I feel my power rise tremendously.  My heart pounds harder as it races, rushing the blood through my veins. Never, before, have I ever experienced such euphoria. I let out a cry of bloodlust that I can't contain, as I move forward with incredible speed. He also moved toward me. As we collide, it creates an explosion of energy, strong enough to dig a crater around us. What's this sensation coming over me? This strong need to fight?

We traded blow after blow, neither of us wavering, neither of us flinching, and neither of us letting up on the other. This was a fight for survival.

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Patrick bursts through the front door of his daughter's home, carrying an unconscious Casmiere, bridal style, in his arms. "Oh my god!" Victoria cries, her voice loud and panicked when she sees him, and runs to his side. "What happened?"

Patrick carries him into the kitchen and sets him gently on the table. Victoria places her hand on Casmiere's chest, and stares into his closed eyes, hoping they open.

"I don't know," Patrick replies. "He just collapsed." Overwhelmed with grief, and having just got him back, Victoria began sobbing uncontrollably.

Patrick rips Casmiere's shirt off as he places his ear against his chest. "His heart is still beating," he observes aloud. "There's not much I can do here. We should get him to my house, quickly."

Just then, Casmiere bolts upright, in a sitting position, taking in a deep breath, and looks around, frantically.

"Cas?" Victoria calls gently. Casmiere's head snaps towards her, and he looks her slowly up and down.

"Casmiere?" Patrick repeats, cautiously unsure what to expect. "Are you okay?"

Casmiere's attention moves to Patrick. Without a single warning, he brings his hand up, slamming his palm hard into Patrick's chest, with such force, he flew through the wall and outside, landing hard in the street. As he jumps off of the table, the children run into the room to see what's happened. A low growl escapes Casmiere's throat as his skin grows dark red, and his eyes pitch black. Victoria stands in front of them, shielding them from their father. Tears streamed down her face as fear overwhelms her.

"Cas?" She tries again. "Please..."

A pair of large wings spread from his back, and with a single flap, he tears through the roof of the small house, and into the sky, above. "Cas!" She screams, running outside, just in time to see his form disappear behind the bright sun.

-------

My Grandfather and I fly into the blood red sky. We hold tightly onto each other as we continue or onslaught of blows, striking each other repeatedly in the ribs, face, back, and anywhere else we could land a fist. I lift my legs and slam my feet hard into his chest, throwing him several feet away from me. As he loses his grip on me, he begins to fall. A large pair of wings spring from his back, catching him in midair. Like the rest of him, they are all bone. Despite the lack of skin, the bone wings hold him aloft in the heavy currents of wind.

We stare at each other for a moment, studying one another. Waiting to see who would make the first move. I need to know how fast he is. With a hard flap of my wings, I spring to my left. He matches his movements perfectly with mine, and manages to stay directly in front of me. With another flap, I launch myself twice as fast in the opposite direction. He matches my movements as if he were a reflection in a mirror. Damn. I don't have that going for me.

"It's useless," he says to me. "I am much faster than you, and much more powerful." With that, he moves. Fast. Too fast for me to follow with my eyes. It's as if he's disappeared. Of course. Without thinking, I turn around and shield myself. I'm too late. His blow hits me hard, knocking me off balance. A second, follow-up attack hits me in the chest, knocking me from the sky. I fall into the ground with enough force to burry my slightly. I feel the blood trickle from my mouth. He stronger than I was, too. Damn. Whatever ever awakened this power inside of me must have affected him, as well. I try to stand but can't. I can barely lift my head to examine my injuries. They all seem to be internal, aside from a few scrapes and bruises.

My grandfather was at my side now. "You can't win. Surrendering yourself to me will make this much more pleasant for you."

Not ready to give up, I force myself slowly to my feet. I have to win. It's my only way back to Victoria.

------

Victoria's feet carry her as fast as possible to the sight of the collision. She didn't see what caused it, she only saw his decent. It was fast, though. Too fast for him to have only fallen. No, something forced him out of the sky. But what?

She stops as she approaches him, lying in a small crater in the street. She fails to fight back the tears that stream down her face. As she goes to move towards him, somebody grabs her from behind, pulling her back.

"No! Cas!" She screams as the unknown man pulls her into his chest.

"Stop, Victoria," Patrick demands. The arms that now hold her tightly belong to him. "Something's wrong. Look."

Her eyes find Casmiere, as he slowly pulls himself from the ground.

"You think you've won?" Casmiere spits with enough malice to shake her to her core.

"I don't think he knows we're here." Patrick notes aloud.

Though Casmiere lifts his eyes towards her, she can tell it's not her he's looking at. She notices a look in his eyes. A look he's only ever gotten when talking about his grandfather. "Cas," she repeats, this time a whisper.

"We need to get the kids and get the hell out of here," Patrick voices. I don't know what's happening, but we can't risk them. Or you."

"I have to help him." Her voice weak and her body trembling, she turns a pleading gaze to her father. "Please, I can help him..." Her words trail off. Patrick can't help but notice the terror on her face.

"No. You can't." His words were blunt, and possibly even somewhat harsh, but he needs to protect her. "I will do my best. But please, take them and go."

After shooting a quick glance at the man she loves, she turns back to her father and nods her agreement. He's right. The childrens' safety comes first.

Patrick releases her and she runs back toward the house. With a sigh of relief, he turns back toward Casmiere, who was still standing there, only glaring at something only he can see, hate filling his black eyes, practically leaking from the blackness.

But what is it, Patrick wonders. What is he fighting?