| From: | Erik Jameson <WildSmashr@***.COM> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Happy New Year Lillith (3 of 3) (graphic violence) |
| Date: | Fri, 1 Jan 1999 02:28:10 EST |
+++++DRONE 3 Audio/video matting.
200 meters in, the evidence of combat is plain in the pockmarked walls and
blood, but unlike the rest of the complex, no bodies are anywhere to be seen.
The soldiers spread to the sides of the corridor, seeking even the
insubstantial protection they offer rather than the complete exposure of the
tunnel itself. The advance slows to a crawl as they check the corridor for
opposition before advancing in short bursts with two man teams leap frogging
the leaders to check the next section. 200 meters in and the first doors are
encountered. These are dealt with in the same fashion as the others, a small
charge placed at hinges and lock, the door blown apart followed by grenades
and gunfire to suppress anything or anyone in the room. Nothing is found.
The rooms deserted, their occupants elsewhere. The troops move on,
systematically destroying every room, exploring every corridor and crevice.
All empty.
Finally they pause at a "T" junction. The armoured mages gathering in a small
group behind the remaining infantry.
"I don't like this," Naw's voice is strained, nervous. "I don't like this
at
all. No sign of Deg, no bodies, no defenders, no nothing. Something is very
wrong here."
Tri waves the mage into silence and looks for a long time down the two
corridors. "We must split up. We cannot afford any more delays, yet, I do
not like dividing our power this way..." His voice tails off into thought.
"I'll take Saith and Chwech, and search the left. Whomever finds Shaitan's
bolt hole first tells the others and waits for their arrival before attacking.
We'll know when we find her. The stiffest resistance will be in that area."
Dau signals with his hand to the troops who split to support the mages as they
move towards the left tunnel.
The movement seems to galvanise Tri, who snaps out of his thoughtful trance,
"Very well Dau, but be careful. For the sake of everything, be careful." Tri
moves forward to the remaining troops, Naw, Pedwar and Pump joining him. In
silence the two teams separate and begin their journey.
Within a few minutes of the tiring room by room searches, Dau's team reach a
series of labs, well equipped sterile surgeries and offices. Fluid tanks hold
various articles, among them sections of what used to be one or another of the
humanoid races, a variety of unidentifiable growths or implants decorating the
sections. Without waiting to identify or explore further, Dau opens fire with
the rotary cannon in his suit, Saith and Chwech following his lead quickly.
Glass explodes across the corridor, the heavy rounds smashing millions of
nuyen in equipment, destroying experiments and bio tanks. Grenades follow the
onslaught, exploding in flame destroying everything within their reach. The
team walks along the corridor, following short tunnels off the main, dealing
out the same destruction to whatever they find in these areas. Two armament
drones and the bloated form of the flamer arrive close to the end of the
section, the team pausing only long enough to re-arm before continuing their
orgy of destruction.
Confused and hectic chattering over the communications system evidence that
the other slightly larger group has encountered the enemy. Tri's voice deep
and powerful over the rest, laying orders, chanting spells. Dau, ignoring the
other battle continues his "cleansing" of the section, leaving nothing
standing, nothing untouched. As though by destroying every last shred of the
area he can wipe the hideous experiments and the memories of the lower levels
from his mind. The destruction of the equipment blankly accepting as he vents
his wrath. While the team move out of the section, the flamer follows behind,
laying fuel and igniting it as it follows behind.
A moment's silence as again the infantry reload the ammo bays of the powered
suits. A moment's silence. The three helmets of the powered armour turn
towards each other, then each looks down the corridor in the direction of the
other team, listening, as if by straining they may hear at least some sound to
indicate the presence of the others. A minute passes by, the only sound the
clink of the belted ammo as the soldiers fill the hoppers.
Then a simple phrase, a phrase so filled with fear and horror that even the
infantry pause and crouch, clutching their weapons close.
Tri's voice. "Oh my God..."
The covers of the ammo hoppers click shut, and before the soldiers have the
opportunity to signal the completion of the task, the three mages are moving.
The powered suits whining as their engines are called upon, legs stretching
out, picking up speed. Gunfire echoes across the comms, accompanied by
desperately screamed spells, screams of pain, of terror, of death.
Their feet thunderous on the stone of the corridor, each step a solid ringing
death knell, sliding around corners, scraping the walls as Dau and his team
attempt to get to the others, their infantry support left behind, outpaced by
the faster armour. Past the junction, Dau and Saith already beginning the
chant of an offensive spell, Chwech muttering under his breath, the rotary
cannon spinning up. A final prolonged scream as though the very soul were
torn from the victim and then nothing, just the sound of the heavy armour
crashing up the corridor, engines straining, cannon whining in their housings.
The suit spots flash across a scene of utter desolation, the movement of the
armour shaking the bright lamps so only flashes of what has occurred greets
them. Tri's armour torn apart, some systems burning, objects wearing the
uniform of the team's infantry spread along the tunnel, some stuck to the
walls. Weapons and steel laying on or embedded in the rock almost as though
driven by tremendous force. Saith skids on the body parts littering the
floor, losing her balance and falling noisily, sparks from the steel thrown up
as she grinds to a halt next to the remains of Naw's armour, the helmet
cracked, Naw's severed head grinning maniacally from the broken casing, the
jaw extended in an unfinished scream. Holes decorate both sides of the ruined
helmet, deep scores evident in the chest and shoulder plates. As Saith
clambers to her feet, other scratch marks, scored deep into the rock of the
corridor floor are revealed.
"Dau." Chwech, shaky, his arm swinging from one side of the corridor to the
other as he scans for a target. "What the hell happened here? Where are
Shaitan's troops? What the hell were they fighting?"
"Hell indeed, Chwech. Or something from it." Dau's lamps brighten, the beams
narrowing, penetrating further into the corridor, stopping as they reach a
wall of darkness, the light not penetrating, but neither reflecting back, just
stopping, as though consumed beyond that point. Bullets and burns from
grenades mark the walls, ceiling and floor. Bodies and weapons lay in the
section before the dark wall, one body disappears into it, the lower torso and
legs gone rather than fading as one would expect. "There. This is where they
intended to stop us, beyond that is Shaitan and her infernal cabal." The
powerplant in Dau's armour winds down, the servos controlling the protective
plates kicking in as he begins to open the suit.
"NO! Dau, don't do it. You don't know what's out there." Saith holds her
hand high, cautioning Dau, her voice desperate, panicked.
"And we won't know unless I can investigate it." Cautiously he climbs from
the armour, pausing only to unclip a flashlight from the suit's hip, and then
proceeding forward to the black wall. Blue light plays around his free hand,
his voice low, constant, a soft chant. Even only two feet from the strange
wall, the light of the flashlight does not penetrate further than the powerful
lamps on the armour. With exaggerated caution, Dau lifts his free hand and
slowly pushes it forward to the barrier. It meets slight resistance, the blue
flame surrounding the hand, flickering, desperately trying to remain lit,
until the hand disappears into it, cut off at mid forearm, nothing visible
beyond the intersection of light and dark. Dau's forehead furrows in
concentration, his voice deepening, the chant spoken more rapidly, forcefully.
Veins on his forehead stand out from the strain as he struggles with
something, until finally a faint blue light can be discerned behind the veil.
Dau withdraws his hand, the brilliant flare from the flame momentarily
blinding until he drops the spell.
"What..." Saith's question goes unanswered at the noisy arrival of the
support troops who slide to a halt just short of the carnage, their eyes wide,
searching the scene for some logic, some reasoning to explain the butchery,
something they can grasp and hold onto to explain the insanity that
encompasses their vision. Breathing hard, their search fails, and almost in
unison they turn from the scene, nostrils flaring at the stench, eyes wide and
scared, throats convulsing, swallowing hard, holding onto the fragility of
what little courage is left to them.
Dau turns from the barrier and walks back to the small group of survivors,
reaching his armour as an incoherent scream echoes from the darkness, followed
by others, the sound closing on the small group. Chwech, already nervous and
prepared, opens up with the rotary, a sheet of flame erupting from the arm of
his suit. A hail of bullets launch into the darkness ahead of them, no
indication that any impact comes back, the screaming simply continues
approaching. Saith's weapon joins the bedlam as she braces herself for
whatever is coming. The infantry are slightly slower, turning and lifting
their weapons, moving forward to flank Dau, vulnerable outside of his armour,
also turning, raising his arms, his mouth working silently over the deafening
roar of the rotaries. More screams. Insane howls echo from the barrier,
increasing in volume, as though the very hordes of Hades were assaulting the
desperate team. Bullets exit from the veil, impacting harmlessly on the
armour and tunnel walls. A figure exits the barrier, picked up immediately by
Saith's weapon and thrown back into the dark it's chest destroyed. Another
follows and another, figure after figure, hurling themselves mindlessly into
the concentrated fire of the armour and infantry. Acrid smoke fills the
corridor, the bright halogens burning through the yellow and blue gun smoke,
surrealism ruling a scene of chaos and insanity. The horde keeps coming, some
surviving somehow to exit momentarily into the hail of fire. Spells from the
mages erupting and exploding inside and at the edge of the veil, destroying
flesh, destroying lives, destroying the brainless, screaming people attacking
beyond reason, beyond logic. Wasting their lives on the guns, spells and
explosives rather than turn and face whatever drives them forward.
Three drones arrive, one the fat heavy flamer, which joins the conflict, the
other two carrying desperately needed ammunition and grenades, snatched by the
troops and hurled at the onrushing enemy. The suit weapons expended, Saith
and Chwech hurl their own power into the battle, joining Dau in his spell
casting, attempting to find some way of stemming the flow, the constant and
seemingly endless supply of bodies piled so heavily that the following
attackers clamber over the remains of their colleagues to attack the small
team, dying before they find a target. A fiery haze hangs in the air behind
the three mages, streaked with gold and silver, faint insubstantial tendrils
twisting from the misty form to the mages battling for survival, as if feeding
them, nourishing and sustaining them in their desperation.
Then as suddenly as it begun, the onslaught ends. The lamps burn through the
thick twisting smoke. The soldiers and mages, chests heaving, lungs searching
for clean air finding only the toxic fumes of combat. The infantry scrabble
at their equipment belts for filters while Dau, Chwech and Saith remove
breathing masks from their armour.
Hair matted, breathing hard, their clothing soaked in sweat the team gather
together, each watching the veil of darkness suspiciously, waiting for
whatever else chooses to hurl itself from behind the curtain. Dau keys the
comms unit in the helmet of his suit. "Bravo- Niner, Questor. We have
encountered heavy resistance, ammo depleted, no casualties. Request rearm and
reinforcements."
"Questor, Echo-Bravo Niner, supplies en-route, minimal support available, en-
route to your position now. Where's Acer?"
"EB-niner, Joker. Acer is down, repeat Acer is down. Joker, Questor and
Heart surviving. Get those supplies and people down here ASAP. We have a
situation here."
"Roger, Joker."
Releasing the mike, Dau leans heavily on his armour, seeking support and
reassurance from the cold reality of the hard steel, his dark eyes fixed on
the veil ahead of them. A low, threatening growl creeps from the walls the
floor and the darkness in front of the group. The threat implicit in the
sound so intense that all of them take an involuntary step backwards, lifting
their weapons. Dau's eyes shift to black, his teeth bared in a feral snarl,
dark flame ignites at his hands, and he answers the sound with one of his own.
Night spills from his mouth as a hissing growl, impossible for a human throat
to produce issues from his form. Grinding through the rock around them,
seeming to set off a sympathetic resonance in the stone, amplifying the sound.
The first growl climbs in pitch. The sound of a creature, of many creatures,
all held in some awful torment. A challenge. Answered by the low pitched
sound issuing from Dau. Both stop at the same moment. An unnatural silence
follows.
Saith looks towards Dau, and just as quickly looks elsewhere, unsettled by
what she sees as much as by what she heard. Moving closer to Chwech, seeking
the comfort of another human. "They've got to be wall to wall in there. How
the blazes are we going to get past that?"
Chwech nods, "Do we want to try?" Sparing a quick glance for the weary Saith.
"Are you OK?"
Saith nods, her head heavy. "I'm okay, just tired, so damn tired."
"There will be time to rest when this is ended, either at home, or in the next
life." Dau's voice grinds from his pained throat, hoarse, dragged over
several yards of gravel. "Un is with us. We must finish this. Now."
Slow minutes crawl by until finally the supplies and reinforcements needed
arrive in the form of two tractor drones, two munitions drones and eight
infantry. The infantry rubber necking in complete disbelief at the picture
before them, an image from Dante's Inferno where the piled bodies of the
damned are forked onto the flames of perdition. The fresh infantry work hard
replenishing ammunition in the armoured suits, distributing magazines and
grenades, water and fresh air filters to the surviving troops surrounding the
mages. All the while trying not to look at the carnage around their feet and
the pile of corpses ahead.
Dau moves among the group while the newcomers share out supplies, touching
faceless soldiers and imparting a few words of encouragement, leaving Saith
and Chwech till last, joining them finally. "I cannot guess what lies ahead,
except perhaps death. Whatever it may be, we have been commanded, and in Un's
name I reaffirm that command. At whatever cost, Shaitan and CoT must be
eradicated completely. That is our charge, and though it be our deaths we
will complete the task."
Saith and Chwech nod soundlessly, their faces tired, but resolve set in the
line of their jaw and the creases around their eyes. Eyes hollow and empty,
denying the scene that surrounds them. "How do we get through?" Chwech,
wiping the drying sweat from his forehead asks.
"The same way they came to us. Across a carpet of dead. Believe one thing
Chwech, if it wasn't for the sacrifice of Tri, Pedwar Neg and Pump, we would
not have survived this battle. They already had depleted the enemy, the dead
already laying in the corridor ahead slowed the attack sufficiently for us to
engage them, if not for their courageous action we would be dead here as well.
I do not believe that Shaitan has many troops left, if any. What we face now
is the Cabal, and whatever evil she has found the time to summon. Un is with
us, and with his strength we will prevail."
"We will prevail." The words offer little encouragement and no comfort to the
trio, words that sound pointless and meaningless in the shadow of the
slaughter around them. Climbing back into their armour, powering up the suit
systems and checking the weapon, they signal to the troops, and begin to move.
Dau's face a granite mask of determination as his helmet closes around him.
Pausing at the edge of the massed corpses, Dau begins a rythmic song, the
gaelic soft and pleasant, comfortable in it's consistent tones and deep
resonance. Moments later, formless creatures move from the rock face of the
tunnel walls, pulling themselves free as though glued to the stone. Four of
them emerge almost together, turning to the barrier they begin to clear a path
for the mages and infantry, shoving bodies to the side, piling them to form a
new wall, a wall of dead along the corridor, into the darkness of the veil,
and beyond. Slowly, the mages and their support move forward, one by one
disappearing into the barrier, swallowed whole as if by some invisible beast.
The drones follow and all is darkness. Only the sound of the armour's steel
feet on the stone, the tireless elementals piling bodies ahead of the group
and the equipment of the infantry any sign that something living passes
through the solid wall of night. Seconds become minutes, minutes, hours.
Hours into days as the small group of weary warriors wade through the black
soup that surrounds them. Chwech and Dau maintaining their control of the
elementals, guiding them, instructing them.
A week passes in a few minutes and the group exits the veil of darkness into
flickering light, brands burning in iron sockets, damp stone reflecting the
flame dully. The elementals dismissed, the three mages line up facing down
the corridor, waiting for the troops to exit the barrier. Slowly, one by one,
the troops struggle out of the clinging substance of the barrier, faces blue
with cold, hands shaking, eyes wide and staring, seeking the tenuous warmth
and familiarity of the burning torches. From each of the iron sockets hang
chain and manacles, from the manacles hangs the remains of a body in varying
stages of decay. Internal organs missing, chests cracked open in a hideous
welcome, blood turning the stone beneath them a deep copper in the flickering
fire light.
"Gods." Chwech's armour turns slightly as he brings the shoulder mounted
lamps to bear on the nearest bodies. "What has she done?"
"This answers one question at least," Dau's voice has a note of steel in it
mixed with utter revulsion. "They're all elven."
"All of them? There must be at least...."
"All of them." Dau interrupts Saith, his voice deep, scratchy, rage
simmering under the surface. He shoulders his way forward, his footsteps
heavy, solid. The pace steady, determined, a single force of unstoppable
rage.
Ahead of the group a hundred meters of corridor, ending in a highly ornate
large door. Fiery entities form in the air around the mages, drawing on the
flames from the torches, other shimmering creatures, insubstantial and
translucent, writhe into being, floating forward, ahead of the mages who stop
at the wide entrance to the final passage. In a rush, the spirits leap forward
into the corridor, fleeting incorporeal bodies hurtling into the long broad
tunnel disrupting the air with their passage. At the half way point they are
intercepted by similar creatures. A silent supernatural battle is joined.
Fleeting half seen flashes of colour and energies scatter and grasp, explode
and burn in the silent unreal combat. At the height of the conflict, Dau
shouts an order, and the group explodes into motion, charging down the
corridor. Chwech raises his arm, the cannon spinning, spitting flame and lead
at the doorway ahead, the bullets impacting on a barrier short of the door,
the bullets flaming briefly as they disintegrate. Then one breaks through,
striking the door, others follow as the barrier collapses, the heavy rounds
digging into the thick wood, striking the iron hinges and bindings striking
sparks and brief blue flames.
Saith releases a spell into the churning mass of spirits only a short distance
ahead of them, the spell ignites, tumbling spirits in all directions,
consuming others at it's epicentre. The armoured mages plough through the
confused combatants heading with all the speed the armour can provide to the
end of the corridor and the portal that protects Shaitan and the Cabal.
Chanting a spell, Dau increases his pace, leading slightly ahead of the other
two, and unleashes it at the door. A ringing impact echoes down the stone
corridor, the torches flickering and waving from the back pressure of the
strike. Cracks appear in the door, one of the hinges shatters with a metallic
screech of protest, and Dau strikes the door. It implodes, splinters and
planks detonating into the room followed by the heavy armour. Chwech and
Saith split to the sides as they enter the chamber beyond, cannon already
spitting flame and death at the crowded occupants. Twelve robed figures gather
around a brightly glowing artefact hovering over an intricate circle of
symbols. A single figure with long flowing black hair stands at an altar, a
terrible burning symbol of black and gold engraved in the wall behind her, an
eviscerated corpse hangs upside down within the circle, another victim lying
chained on the altar, a curved gold blade held above them. Ornately decorated
curtains hang from the walls around the chamber, deepening the shadows between
tall stone columns also decorated with glowing symbols. Bullets from Saith's
weapon burn up on a barrier around the circle, before she physically slams
into it, carrying through, destroying the artefact in an explosion of flame
with her free arm, killing the robed figures with the cannon as her momentum
carries her on towards a second, smaller chamber at the back. Chwech rips,
stamps and fires at anything moving, engaging randomly with deadly effect,
scattering the few troops within the room, killing everything he encounters in
a blood lust.
Dau slides to a halt short of the altar facing the female standing above the
victim. "DIE YOU FUCKING BITCH!" His arm lifts, the cannon already firing,
walking heavy slugs across the floor, up the altar and into the stunned woman
on the dais, lifting her up, slamming her against the wall, ripping the frail
body apart.
A shaft of molten flame impales Chwech to the ground, the steel of his armour
flowing, running, the internal systems exploding, ammo cooking off destroys
the arm in a flash of brilliant flame. A second shaft impales Saith through
the armour's chest, knocking her off her feet, the armour sliding into a wall,
one side savagely mutilated. Dau kicks down hard, leaping to his left, a
third shaft of black and gold flame striking the ground where he stood. The
suit's chest explodes. Quick release bolts erupting in a staccato rattle
blowing the chest plate off the armour, the mage rolling from the suit
shouting a spell, eyes searching the room for the assailant. A fourth spell
impacts on Dau's hastily erected barrier, flaring momentarily through a
rainbow of colours, the mage tumbling back, driven by the force of the
incoming magic. Hands forward, feeding power to the barrier, Dau lands
heavily on his back, the air exploding from his lungs in a pained grunt.
"You dare to challenge me, you dare invade my domain, you dare to attack me!?"
The voice, echoed and deep, grating on the bones and teeth issues from the
beautiful face of a woman hovering above the shattered door. Hair waving as if
in a strong breeze, clothes hanging from a slim frame. She slowly floats down,
waving negligently at the corridor behind her, screams and shouts of fear and
pain follow an explosion of flame and smoke from the tunnel.
Dau climbs cautiously to his feet, his face blank, black eyes burning.
"Challenge you? I come to destroy you, and the corruption you feed."
Movement to his left is met with a shouted command, a dark streak leaves one
hand, igniting and surrounding the movement in a viscous acidic sheet. The
three beings inside the fluid mist struggle, screaming silently until finally
they lay still. "It is over Shaitan, your insane plans, your plotting, your
meddling in things beyond your feeble comprehension. It all ends here. All
the deaths you have caused, all the pain and suffering, all the horror and
agony you have caused will all be heaped upon you. My task is to destroy you,
but by everything I hold Holy, you will feel everything you have caused
first." Lunging forward, Dau screams, his voice ethereal, echoing, deep as
the ocean, terrible as a dark stormy night. Dark power launches at Shaitan,
flooding over and around her, surrounding the barrier around her, crushing it,
searching for a weakness, a way in, looking for her flesh.
Her mouth opens, her eyes glaze over, and a light musical laugh penetrates
Dau's sustained scream. "Are you really so foolish as to believe that the
pathetic powers at your command would be sufficient to harm one such as I?
Could the Dark Stranger really be so feeble of mind that he believed himself a
match for me?" The laugh stops, the power surrounding her vanishes as
suddenly as it arrived, Dau staggers back two steps, the only indication of
concern in the narrowing of his eyes. "You have erred Stranger, your arrogance
has brought you into my hands, and for that you will be eternally sorry. You
would battle with Shaitan? You would destroy me, and that which I command?
Really?" She begins to walk, circling the angry form of Dau who turns with
her. Stopping she steps forward, her arms raising, ebony flame forming around
her hands and forearms. "Really, Stranger? Then feel the power of Shaitan!"
The ebony flames strike forward and down, melting the rock around Dau, searing
the stone until it runs liquefied, burning down, forming a small pillar
surrounded by molten rock. On one knee, Dau strains, his face creased, veins
prominent, holding the magic at bay only by the strength of his will and his
rage.
Finally it is over, and he slowly stands, teeth bared, lips drawn back tight
against his gums. "Is that your best, Shaitan? The very best you can do?
Then you have reason to fear me." Drawing an elaborate amulet from beneath
his coverall and holding it in one hand, he begins a chant, different from his
other magic, the Gaelic no longer musical, but deeper, darker, harsher. The
language barked, twisted beyond it's natural form into something painful to
the ears, something ancient and terrible. Dau's words of power are mirrored
by Shaitan, still prowling around him, her own voice containing a bestial
quality as that of a large predator, her eyes invisible behind the flames that
occupy the sockets of her skull. Ebony energies slam together between the two
mages, scattering, destroying everything they touch, sparks from the ethereal
flux igniting the curtains and clothing of the fallen, searing the rock,
filling the air with the stuff of nightmares. Once again, the faint fiery
presence forms behind Dau, feeding him, sustaining him, supporting him. A
similar shadowy presence forms behind Shaitan, though a part of her, joined in
a symbiotic manner at her shoulders. The mages battle for long moments, each
searching for a weakness, some sign of exhaustion in the other, neither
noticing the faint movement from Saith's armour, the lifting of an arm, the
cannon spinning up, the eruption of blue flame as the weapon fires. Armour
piercing explosive bullets tear into the walls, floor and area surrounding
Shaitan. Distracted, her power fails, a form materialises next to her,
absorbing the stream of bullets from Saith, staggering, shielding Shaitan who
desperately tries to regain her power, to hold back the stream of hatred and
retribution issuing from Dau. A small reptilian creature launches from the
shadows of the stone pillars towards Dau, evaporating as it contacts the
magical energies streaming from the furious mage, a flash of light in the dark
power clashing between the mages, Dau bearing down on the staggering figure of
Shaitan.
The cowering, injured figures of the survivors by the magic circle scream as
one, each one still alive igniting in flame, the figure on the altar erupts in
a violent conflagration, others, guards, lackeys, any living being left in the
room bursts into flame, their bodies consumed by the fire, screaming their way
into damnation. Shaitan, her back to a wall and hate in front of her shows
the first sign of fear, her eyes searching, looking for an escape route, her
face no longer so confident, the arrogance gone, her power failing. Dau
presses the attack a tendril of his power breaking through striking her face
and arm, burning them, leaving a seared trail where the tendril touches flesh.
Shaitan screams, a language long forgotten, a command, a plea. Dau's power
stops dead in the air a second barrier leaping into existence between him and
his target. Shouting in rage, Dau attacks it with everything he has, hurling
himself upon the barrier, beating it with power driving his hands deep into
the invisible wall, feeding his rage to his power as he feeds upon himself. A
dark form, shifting, vibrating, out of synch appears crouched over the
cowering figure of Shaitan.
A voice so far away as to be barely audible, yet unmistakably clear cuts above
the enraged sounds of Dau as he attacks the barrier separating him from his
target. "She is not for you Dau, Dark Stranger, Rhodri ap Iorwerth, servant
of the wyrm you call Un. Not yet." A reptilian hand, vicious black claws on
the end of impossibly long fingers encircles the form of Shaitan. "For now,
she is MINE!" A silent explosion punches the Stranger back across the room to
impact on the far wall some 60 feet away.
Two soldiers cautiously enter the destroyed temple, rifles ready, searching
for survivors and targets. Their clothing scorched, one sporting a serious
burn on his face. Saith's armour staggers to it's feet, the helmet cracking,
the young woman inside gasping for breath, sucking air into her starved body.
The armour limps across the room to the slumped body of the Stranger, and
Saith climbs out, a vicious burn opening the flesh to the bone on the left
side of her body, the clothing rent and scorched the wound cauterised. She
bends over Dau, feeling for a pulse as his eyes open.
With her hand as support, Stranger climbs shakily to his feet. Saith looks
over at the destroyed section of the temple where he battled Shaitan. "What
happened to her? Is she dead, and what the hell was that thing?"
"No Saith, she lives, though were she has gone she would have been better off
letting me kill her. The creature that killed Tri and the others was summoned
by her, from a place she had no right calling upon. I believe Tri destroyed
it even as it killed him. She has returned to that domain with the creature
that rules there, I know part of his name, Baalmaphuset. The bargain she made
demands that he protect her once, from death. His part of the bargain is
fulfilled, but hers is not. For that she will suffer an agony she cannot
imagine, but she lives. One day I'll meet her again, and on that day, she
will die."
"And this, all this," Saith waves her hand at the destruction and death
around them. "Is this the end? Is it over, finally?"
"For now. Yes, Gwyneth. It is over, for now. We can go home, and mourn the
dead." Dau takes a deep breath, a huge sigh, lifting the burden of the past
months from his shoulders and dismissing them to a far corner of his mind.
Slipping Saith's arm over his shoulder, Dau signals to the two soldiers.
"Let's get out of this filth."
A small group of anxious people greet the four survivors outside in the
quarry. Rain falls from black clouds, lighting playing over the city in the
far distance, a harsh winds snatches at the small group of people as they turn
from the complex, walking wearily, painfully back to the vehicles waiting to
take them away. Dau pauses on the rise where he first looked upon the home of
Shaitan, a dwarf, chewing a fat cigar standing next to him.
"Blow it Ivan, blow the whole fucking place off the damn planet. Destroy it."
The Dwarf nods, signalling to a technician near one of the trucks. The ground
shakes savagely, rock tumbles down the quarry face, the survivors staggering
from the after shock. A huge gout of flame erupts from the entrance, mirrored
in two other places within sight of the small mound on which Dau stands.
Dau's voice is soft, quiet, the words whispered, "Burn in hell you bitch."
Supporting Saith, the battered mage heads towards one of the trucks while
technicians recover the drones and help the two soldiers to another vehicle.
+++++end video
And so it ends Lillith. May all those that fell victim to Shaitan now rest in
peace.]<<<<<
-- the Dark Stranger <23:12:42/12-31-59>
