C'thelli's Demonic Orphanage (Completed and Editing)

29

Dom leapt at her with open palms and gnashing teeth. Had she have been more afraid, or untrained, then she may have looked away. Or cowered beneath her scrunched up eyelids. But she was trained. A soldier of the Underworld. She forced herself to stare death in the face and think of a means to cheat him. If she could regain her balance then she could roll out of the way or stab him with her dagger. Anything but to let the vampire pounce and drain the vitality from her veins.

But no such scenario would occur. For at one moment the blazing eyes of the famished priest were beaming at her. Then a flash of grey zipped across the church at such speed that she thought it was a trick of the spire's light. But that was not the case. 

Instead, Dom was snatched from the air. His black silhouette vanished before her very eyes, and while she shielded them from the blinding pillar before her, a deafening crash of stone crumbled to her side. 

With a glance, she witnessed the Gargoyle from earlier mount the vampire and pummel him with sturdy talons. "La mort slave no more. La mort help friends," the raging brute declared. A second fist raised itself to punch him further into the ground before he hesitated. His eyes met hers and something spoke to her in the silence. An apology? It was impossible to tell for Dom used the second of reprieve to grab at the beast's wrist and slip free with a beat of his wings.

"Insolent wretch!" Freed from the stone muscles of the creature, the vampire fled back to the spire with La mort giving chase. With a snatch of his crossed sceptre he slammed the metal end into the creature's jaw. Like a pile of stones, the peculiar ally slumped to the ground.

Suddenly, C'thelli felt a pair of hands upon her, gripping at her coat and lifting her up. Slapping at the limbs she rounded on the owner and fell still. Feimo. He stood over her with a worried look full of pain. "I know I've screwed up, but could we at least wait until we save the world?" the demon asked. 

His yellow hand held out a sharp object as black as the night. It was Satan's dagger. But how'd he get it if - Cheeky pickpocket. A small blue flame smouldered along the blade until it burst into a brilliant red with a change of hands.

The devil gripped the handle and scowled, "Fine," she snapped, "Do you have a plan?"

"Fei-mo!" La mort cried. Upon the steps towards the shattered altar, Dom loomed over the hulking gargoyle and hammered at his crumbling arm at an impossible speed.

They ran. 

Dagger raised, the devil crossed the chamber as the demon whispered, "We're the distraction." Her gaze moved towards the empty windows behind him. It was just in time for the ground to rumble and dust to cascade through the cracks of the building. A giant creature as thick as a tree passed by the open space. No elaboration was given, instead when Satan's blade plunged itself into Dom's abdomen with futility, Feimo winked at her mid pounce onto the enemy's back.

What the hell was he up to? 

Feimo's plan was simple enough, Stop the ritual, smack up Dom, and save the day. At least that bit was easy to understand, but when it came to their part, Vivian had a lot of doubts. For starters, Hanley needed to grow. His wooden skeleton crunched and thickened until he was head height with the remnants of the bell tower. One wrong assumption and he would be a perfect target for the Reapers, who were already rushing to their carriages. 

It was always hard to accept what you couldn't understand. That she knew from experience. But Feimo and C'thelli had been there for her and both had sought answers on her behalf. They weren't exactly quiet about it, but that loyalty in her was something she couldn't go unpaid. She needed to do her bit.