The Stronghold 2: Immortals

Murder

Suddenly the door to Blade's office sprang open and Woody skidded out, sprinting down the corridor without a sound but with a look of abject terror on his face. Caspar emerged a second later, blood splattered across his face, his eyes wide with horror.

"He just came in through the window," he said in a croaky whisper. "We couldn't do anything..."

I strode across the room and pushed him out of the way. Blade was slumped in his chair, a hole in the front of his head and his brains splattered all over the wall behind him. Fighting down sickness I advanced into the room, looking around at the scene.

The window was smashed with glass coming from the outside in. That was, if Caspar was being honest, where the attacker came in. If it wasn't an attacker then it was either Caspar or Woody but both seemed terrified and as far as I could tell neither were armed. And what would their motives be? No, it couldn't be them. But who else would have a grudge against Blade? 

"He has a fair few enemies in the criminal world," Brian said, making me jump. I frowned for a second and then realised that I'd spoken my thoughts out loud. 

"Anybody important?" I queried, examining the wound on Blade's head without touching it or anything near him.

"Not really, just some criminal underlings that pose no real threat."

"So somebody either new or someone that he liked," I said thoughtfully. "Caspar, did you see the attacker?"

"It was someone dressed in a hooded cape with a stabby thing," Caspar replied, his voice shaking. "Like a spear but fancier."

"I presume that Blade was stabbed then?"

"Yes. At least I think so."

"You think so?" I echoed. 

"They were facing away from me," Caspar said, beginning to cry. "I didn't see them!"

"Caspar, go and sit down," Brian said firmly but gently, leading Caspar to one of the armchairs assembled around the television. "You're in shock," I heard him say. "You need to sit down, calm down and try and take your mind off things. Cup of tea?"

I smiled to myself at his kindness. Despite all he'd told me about Caspar and Woody terrorising him Brian was still making sure the teenager wasn't distressed.

The sound of clinking glass brought me back to reality with a sharp thud. A person in a cape with the hood thrown back was staring at me, their face masked with sharp metal. I stared back and then ducked out of the way as the spear they were holding was thrown at my head. Moving quickly I shut the door so that the others wouldn't see me being killed and then coming back to life. I've been told it's quite spooky because I sit up as a ghost and then my body moves to join me. I split, I heal. Simple as.

The figure lunged forwards again and I felt a metal blade whizz past my head and pin my ear to the wall. I held back a cry of pain and kicked out wildly, catching my attacker in the gut. While they were winded and doubled over in pain I wrenched out the spear and cleaned it of my blood and DNA using light so that I could prove that was the weapon that killed Blade. Unless, I found myself thinking, there were two spears, or two attackers. 

A battle cry screamed in a foreign tongue heralded the arrival of not one but three more people through the window. I was backed up against the wall with spears at my throat, unable to do anything but stand there and try not to yell out.

"Take him," I heard from the leader, whispered in a language that I hadn't heard for years. My language, from my home world.

"Whoa," I said, also speaking my own tongue, "don't take me anywhere. Seriously. I'll eat everything you have, turn you all purple and then run away. It's worthless."

Astonished faces looked back at me and I sighed, deciding that explaining was better than threatening. "I'm like you lot, I guess," I said carefully. "We're all from the same world just I have a life here while you run around killing people. Why did you stab Blade, anyway? Is it because of his name?"

"What are you?" the leader rasped in return, glaring at me as I dared to speak back. 

"I'm a shadow demon, a god of light and the king of the rainbows," I said with a smirk. "Move out, bitches." With that I swept my arms wide and let a shockwave of energy throw them all against - and through - the walls. Some of them fell outside and vanished in midair. Others ran back through the holes they had made and threw themselves at me, spears outstretched. I blocked them all swiftly and efficiently and thought that my job was done until I felt a stabbing pain in my lower back. The front of a spear protruded through my shirt and I knew that I'd been skewered. 

"That wasn't very nice," I growled in English, spinning around and using the sharp end stuck out of my stomach to stab the thing that had attacked me. They whimpered and dropped to the floor, almost pulling me with them but I let the spear slide from me and down with my attacker. 

Exhausted and dripping with blood I surveyed the damage I had caused. Blade's office was a mess and gooey brains and organs were everywhere. Dead bodies lay scattered around me and the destruction I'd caused was obvious but I shrugged it off and exited the office through a brand new doorway, leaning on the wall for support as I got weaker and weaker.

"What the hell happened?" Brian asked in amazement, standing in Caspar's way so that the teenager couldn't see the carnage I'd caused.

"There were lots of them," I said faintly. "And one of me."

"Did they win and run off? Oh hell, are you dying?" Brian said anxiously, rushing across the room and forgetting about Caspar. Part of me was smug because of the attention and part of me was grateful for it but I shrugged it all off.

"I won," I replied. "They're all dead. And I got stabbed, but I'll be okay. I just need a new T-Shirt, that's all."

"But you've been stabbed!" Brian cried. "You're dying!"

"Yeah, but I'll come back to life or heal myself," I said nonchalantly, sinking into a chair and sighing. "No big deal."

"No big deal?" Brian echoed. "You've been stabbed!"

"Yes, you've already said that."

"You're dying!"

"No I'm not," I said, my tone sharp with irritation and pain. I pulled my T-Shirt over my head and pointed to the circular hole on the front of my body. Slowly white light covered it, first drying the blood and then sealing the wound. It continued down the tunnel that had been caused and fixed any damage, finishing at the back of me and then spreading out like a bandage.

"See?" I murmured. "I'm fine."

"You need to eat more," Brian said in concern. "Seriously. You don't look healthy."

"I doubt that I am," I said. "But I'm fine with it."

"I could play the xylophone on your ribs," Caspar commented. 

"It isn't good, Shaade."

"When did you become my mother?" I muttered grumpily. "I'm fine. I'm still alive, we can start worrying when I die. Repeatedly. Where's Woody?"

"In our room," Caspar said, pointing down the hall. I nodded and stood up, going to see where the other teenager had gone.

"Don't touch anything!" Caspar called.

"I'll try not to," I shouted back, pushing open the door. Immediately I slammed it shut again, forcing the vomit back down my throat and taking deep breaths to calm myself.

"Don't come over here," I croaked. "I'll deal with this."

"What's happened?" Caspar asked, running over. I blocked the doorway but he grabbed the handle and pushed me aside, throwing open the door. His scream of horror cut to the bone and resounded around my head, sending me to my knees. I couldn't handle it. There had been too much death and grief in one day and my brain was calling for lights-out. As I slumped to the floor I got a perfect view of the inside of the room. 

Woody was hanging from the ceiling, his throat cut and his windpipe used to hang him from the light fixture. Written on the wall in his own blood was a warning.

You kill my people, I kill yours. Watch out, Shaade.