The Protector and the Peacemaker

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Seven

(Porter)

Once again, Porter found himself in the last place on earth he wanted to be: deep inside his own mind, in the passageway that led to the dark doorway. A cold breeze came from further down the hallway, making his skin pimple with goosebumps...

Skin?

Porter looked looked down at himself and realized with a jolt of fright that he was back in his human body again. His wings, tail, and fur were nowhere to be found.

"I didn't think I could stand dealing with you in such a disgusting state," Mortoph's taunting voice came to him from down the hallway, as cold and cruel as a winter wind. "At least like this, I can look at you without being sick."

Fear washed over Porter like a physical wave, the mere force of the Master Slayer's power pushing him backwards a couple steps, followed by a scornful laugh.

"Come and get me, hero!" Mortoph called to him.

Porter shivered, the cold familiarity of the words having the exact effect on him that Mortoph wanted. Still, he refused to back down. Steeling his nerves as best he could, he let out a battle cry and charged down the hallway, to where he knew Mortoph waited. The shadows on the walls seemed to dance with glee in the meager light as he ran, eager to see him fall to his greatest enemy.

The doorway at the end of the passage came into view, and Porter forced himself into a full on sprint. He expected Mortoph to stop him just like he had last time, but if he gained enough speed perhaps he could hurt the Slayer when he ran into him. Either that, or it would be like running straight into a brick wall.

Instead, Porter found his way completely uncontested, and he barreled into the pitch black room at an almost uncontrollable speed. Gasping in confusion, he dug his heels into the floor and skidded to a stop. He spun around to face the door, and could just make out the tiny rectangle of light in the distance— much farther away than it should have been. He'd only taken a few steps, and yet the doorway was more than a hundred feet away!

Mortoph's laugh rang out again, deafeningly loud this time, and the very floor shook under Porter's feet, almost bringing him to his knees.

"I'll admit," the Master Slayer's voice boomed, seeming to come from all around him, "I didn't expect you to get this far."

Porter cringed, suddenly feeling absolutely helpless in the black void of his mind.

"Not that it matters," Mortoph went on. "You were never any real threat to me, only a minor inconvenience."

"Y- you're lying," Porter argued, finding it hard to speak through the fear that felt as thick as wet cement. "We can beat you. I know we can!"

Another laugh rang out. "Don't be so naïve, boy! Even if you knew the truth, you wouldn't be able to defeat me. You are an ant, and I am a mountain!"

There was a deep, consuming silence for a few seconds, in which Porter could feel Mortoph's presence swirling around him like a stormy wind— formless and untouchable, but undeniably there.

And undeniably dangerous.

"Let me show you," Mortoph said at last, his voice low and ominous, "how a mountain crushes an insect."

Another wave of terror crashed down on top of Porter, and he lost control of himself and ran for the doorway with a scream of fright. He knew the hallway would offer no sanctuary, but the fear had made an animal out of him. Rational thought was chased from his head just as he was being chased out of the room. Terror ate at his sanity, banishing all other emotions from him until fear was all he knew— all there had ever been. Behind him came another laugh, but this one was not Mortoph's. It was cold and icy, just like the fear that assaulted the boy's mind, and yet loud and powerful. It sounded like cruelty, and power, and age, as if Porter truly was an ant, and the mountain was laughing at him as it prepared to crush him underneath countless tons of earth and stone.