The Chronicles of Exodus 3 The Rapture

Chapter 7 The Demon's Jar

After slaying the ocean spirit, Jiron and I stood by the body. I felt so exhausted yet so powerful after using my Valdira form. The aches and pains of it are killing me though. It's weird. Normally after emerging from my Valdira power up, I feel so drained of everything. Power, energy, emotion and sometimes even appetite. I swipe some blood off my face and climb atop the spirit's body. Just like I did with the other spirits, I unclipped a jar from my belt and twisted open the lid. Jiron watched curiously and with content. Unlike last time, I didn't bother with my blades. Instead, I just tore right in. I clenched my fist and ploughed it into the spirit's chest, golden blood seeped out from wound, spilling all over me and the ground. With one last violent jerk, I ripped a chunk of the spirit's heart from its body. The whole body shook and twitched in alarm before crashing back down and settling. I smirked as I dropped the bloody portion of the heart into the jar with the other hearts of the spirits, I've previously slain. With a slight grunt I twisted the lid back on and clamped it back onto the side of my belt. I wiped a line of sweat off my forehead using the back of my palm and raised my head to look at a flabbergasted Jiron. It's almost like he's a child. I should ask him some more about his home universe. I stepped down from the giant corpse and glanced back at the sea. The water had ceased moving, until it suddenly began to recede rapidly. I pointed up at the cliffs and Jiron seemed to understand. Swiftly the two of us rushed to the side of the cliff, unsheathed our dual swords in unison and stabbed them high and deep into the rock, clambering up the rock face. I've survived floods and tsunamis before. But this one is not normal. This one is fuelled by the blood of a spirit, and that's not a good thing. Countless may die and it'll be MY fault. "Let them suffer!" The Reaper growled in my head. I shook my head and kept climbing, maybe there's a chance the wall of devastating water may not be that big, or so I'm hoping. "They deserve it Jira! Remember what they think of us? They think we're monsters, here to destroy their world!" My eyes flickered an ominous bright golden glow that seeped down my cheeks like tears. "Prove them right!" I smirked and kept climbing. The Reaper's right.

We hurriedly scrambled up the cliff after seeing how huge the wall of water actually was. It was bigger than I had ever anticipated, making the destruction it would cause would so much worse, meaning I could absorb even more power from it. "Hurry up!" Jiron yelled. There were tinges of pure fear in his voice. I almost laughed. "We're gods, we'll be fine!" He looked down at me for a moment before continuing to climb. We narrowly made it up the cliff in time to see the wave thunder towards the mainland. "Keep moving!" I called out over the roars of tsunami sirens. I was honestly surprised there were any, but there was no time to dwindle. The water was rapidly approaching, and there was only three ways I believed I was surviving this unscathed. "Remember Jira, I'm always here, waiting." The Reaper growled. I let out a sigh as I kept climbing, issuing a few glances back at Jiron who was a couple steps behind me. With one last gasp for air my hand gripped onto the edge of the cliff face. I hauled myself and lowered a hand for Jiron, who tightly grasped it with sweaty palms as I pulled him up as well. We stood there for a second, gathering our breaths just as we heard the sound of the water rising. Jiron poked his head over the edge and held back a scream. The water was glowing as it ascended, growing higher and higher which each swirl of the storm clouds high up above. It's been many decades since there was but an ounce of a clear sky on Earth.

Ever since the foretold events of fimbulwinter struck the Earth's continents after World War 3, humanity has almost never had a chance to recover. The intense repercussions of global nuclear warfare could not be resolved before monsters of their own creation descended upon them. I remember the exact day when I was first ambushed by the undead zombies. That sense of dread and paralysing fear is quite similar to the exact thing I'm feeling now. I sucked in a deep breath and hit Jiron on the back, getting him to start running. I took of sprinting, hurdling over rocks and small bits of debris. With a grimace and pumping muscles, I charged headfirst into the city of Sydney. With a thunderous howl the water broke upwards and started chasing after us. I nudged Jiron as we ran and gestured to the tallest skyscraper I could see. It had a domed top and extended balcony. The Reaper let out a growl and burst from my back, sprouting large wings with torn, jagged edges. My left eye glazed over with a purple film, and a swirling black spiral replaced my pupil. I snatched Jiron by the shoulder and started flapping my wings. The scent of sea breeze filled my nose as I lifted myself high off the ground and trailed up to the skyscraper. I tossed Jiron onto the balcony and perched on the guard-railing. With a low growl from The Reaper, I peered down at the destruction about to unfold. The colossal tsunami wave ripped through the first buildings like they were nothing. Glass shattered and bricks were torn apart as entire structures crumbled into dust against the force of the wave. An evil grin peeled at my lips all while The Reaper cackled in my ears. The bursts of water churned through the streets, tossing cars, ripping out trees and crushing unfortunate humans under the extreme pressure. I watched as poor, pathetic souls were ripped from the ground and swiftly carried away by the flash flood waves. The tsunami roared as it smashed through every single building, with no sign of stopping. A wave of shock and fear washed over Jiron's young face as he leaned on the railing. A loud explosion burst in one of the nearby buildings, as frantic screams and cries were carried by the force of the raging wind. The Reaper continued to cackle and laugh as it began to spread all over my body. Sharp curved claws emerged from my fingers and a crown of horns covered my messy spiked hair. The metal railing squeaked as it bent beneath my weight. The crashing waves below tore the city streets, ploughing through entire buildings. An ounce of joy beamed inside me as I knew that hundreds were dying by the second. "J-Jira, is this too far?" Jiron asked, his voice rich with fear. I craned my neck and glared at him. "This is their fate, the mortals betrayed us, they will pay for their crimes against the Gods." I growled, The Reaper's low and slithering hisses pierced through my words. I kept looking out at the destruction below. One thing I have never told anyone, is that through the chaos and destruction, my power shall grow, I will evolve, transform and become more powerful, only through the destruction that has been wrought, I shall become stronger. The Reaper cackled and laughed in my ears, his sick laugh echoing around in the shell of my head. My pulsating veins radiated energy as The Reaper continued to creep out and over my skin. As I turned my head and watched the final wave of destruction occur, I noticed Jiron scoop something from the floor and analyse it, far too much for a simple scrap of paper, it was likely something important. "Hey Jira?" he asked.

"Yeah bud?"

"Who's this?"

He raised his hand so I could see. I felt my stomach tighten and breath become thin as I gazed into the photo in his hand. A wave of coldness and remorse washed over me, a shiver of the kind I hadn't felt since I bonded with The Reaper. In Jiron's hand was a picture of Mischa and I, one taken during our late high school days. I remember in human years I was seventeen years old, but as a god, I was maybe a hundred and thirty. The time, dates and years have all mashed to together now. I sighed and tried to hide the extreme pain lingering in my chest as I stared into Mischa's eyes. "Who is that girl? Is that Astrid?" he asked, his head slightly tilted. I swallowed hard but my eyes never left the piece of paper. "N-no" I managed to say without showing my actual emotions. "W-wait, how do you know Astrid? Did your Jira have one too?" I asked, again trying to hide my true feelings. Jiron looked at me with a sense of sadness, one I knew very well. His eyes shone with the same tone as mine when I held Astrid's lifeless body in Scandinavia all those years ago. "Yeah, he did. She meant the world to him, she was his best, and closest friend. They had fallen for each other in battle decades after they first met in college. Jira was a confident introvert who was well known for arriving late to classes with ripped clothes and plenty of cuts and bruises." There was a slight smile playing at Jiron's lips as he talked about his Jira. The two of them must have had some great time together. But just as his smile grew, it began to waver. "It was love at first sight. Astrid was a nerdy little blonde girl but had captured Jira's heart with ease. The two of them grew a swift bond, constantly trying to one-up each other in battles. It was like I blinked, and then they were married. They were so happy together, being separated from one another was like hell, I guess now that explains quite a lot..." Jiron's eyes blinked small tears away before they could take full shape. "There was a defence mission, one where Jira had to be separate from Astrid, since she was leading the ground assault, while he dealt with the main opponent. The ground attack failed, the enemies knew we were coming and were prepared. By the time we managed to take cover, five of us were already dead, and I was wounded. Despite this, we kept fighting, shooting at the enemies like there was no tomorrow. For Astrid, there wasn't even an evening. We had a single dragon to defend and evacuate us, but it could only carry one at a time. I had insisted to be the last one to leave, since as an immortal, I would last longer and hopefully stand more of a chance, but Astrid didn't listen to me. She shoved me towards the dragon as it took off, grabbing me in its claws and flying me away. As I looked back, Astrid was surrounded by brutes and soldiers, right before she was then shot to death." The words stung more than a million bees. Having experienced one Astrid's death, hearing of another was gut-wrenching and just depressing. "Jira was pissed." Jiron continued. "He was filled with a rage I had never seen him have. He was adorned in shining armour, standing on his dragon, Hellfire's back, his spear drawn. Like a crash of lightning, he leaped from his dragon's back and plummeted towards the ground. When he landed behind Astrid's body, and his eyes washed over her, he went berserk. He slaughtered everyone." I felt part of my heart crack when he mentioned Hellfire. I missed him, it's been maybe a week at most since he ran off. Jiron's eyes were now filled with wet, thick tears as he opened his mouth once more. "Jira was so...angry. He destroyed the whole city in an hour, and when he was done, only ash remained. After Astrid's death he became so depressed, so...sad. But I think he was thinking of ending it all. One night, a week after Astrid's funeral I found him outside, sitting on the porch with a shattered bottle of wine and blood stained wrists, but there were no wounds, no scars, nothing. His immortality had prevented him from killing himself, but that didn't mean mentally he was still functional. He wore an act every day, up until his own death. But it was on that day, I think he truly was himself again. The fear of losing his family, of losing...me, was all the fuel he needed to keep fighting until his heart stopped pumping, and his blood was drained out onto the floor."

By the time Jiron finished speaking, his eyes were red with pain, and his body was trembling, the same way mine did after Mischa's murder, though I think mine was due to rage as opposed to the grief Jiron was feeling now. With a long sigh I gently took the damp photo from Jiron and just looked at it. She really was beautiful. I see why I ended up catching feelings for Astrid, she was almost exactly like Mischa. Blonde, shorter than me, a little bit of sass but a warrior's spirit beneath. Not to forget just how beautiful she was. It just truly hurt how I never actually told her how I felt.