Iris strolled through the town leisurely, her sword held loosely in her left hand. As she watched the fire catch, the smoke rise and the town burn only one thought crossed her mind, she was bored.
The town had fallen to her troops within an hour, she had wanted it to last at least two.
She strolled down what used to be the Main Street, the remains of the market stalls now spilled out onto the ground. Muddied food, broken toys and jewellery, the potential of a town and its people shattered and cast down in an instant. It was almost enough to make Iris feel sorry for the townsfolk.
Almost.
Iris stopped for a second, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, taking in heat from the fire, the smell of the smoke that curled thickly into the air, the screams of the humans and the jeers of victory that spilled from her men.
She felt the gentle breeze blowing through her hair, the soft earth and leaves crunching and shifting beneath her weight, the weight of the sword and feel of the leather grip in her left hand.
Gods she was bored.
A shout to her left, not of pain, but of challenge. She turned, sword raised, instantly alert. Her eyes found a man, bearded and muscled with red, wild eyes, a lumber axe gripped in his right hand, raised above his head.
He covered the ground between them in a matter of seconds, but that was all the preparation Iris needed.
He swung, a slow and clumsy thing aimed at her chest when it should have been aimed at her neck, Iris took a step back and flicked her wrist. The man stopped, his bloodshot eyes wide with surprise.
Iris always found that odd. When someone was faced with the great beyond, it was never fear in their eyes, only surprise. As if they were shocked that anyone would even dare harm them.
The man stumbled back half a step, his hands going to his throat. Iris lowered her sword, loosening her grip on it once again. The man made a strange gurgling noise, blood seeping from between his fingers clutched around his throat. After staying standing for a few seconds, he finally toppled, landing face down in the dirt. Iris gently stepped over him as he gurgled and twitched.
She wouldn't want someone to step on her when she was dying.
She hummed quietly to herself, trying to remember what the tune was from, as she followed the loudest screams. It was there she would find the remaining resistance, if there was any left that was.
Shadows flickered past her as she strolled through streets filled with corpses, blood stained stones and collapsed houses, they weren't really shadows Iris knew, but they may as well have been for the amount of attention they paid her.
The screams grew in pitch and volume until Iris found herself facing a house. It was a nice house, all things considered. Large, made of stone with large glass windows and a door made from heavy wood. The house was two stories, with the windows on the lower floor broken, with what seemed to be furniture piled against them, preventing anyone from entering through them.
Bodies laid outside the house, concentrated around the windows. One even lay in the window, his body folded over the ledge, half in half out. Blood stained the ground beneath them, pouring from bullet wounds. Their masks identified them as white fang.
A large group of her men were huddled together, their voices raised, clearly arguing over the best way to break into the building.
"We should try the windows again!" Shouted one, his voice deep and filled with courage, but not intelligence.
"What?" Another one scoffed. "Didn't you see what happened last time? We go in through the windows we get slaughtered, or do you not see our bodies piled up there? We can only enter a window one at a time, he'll pick us off. We should try the doors." Iris thought this voice was the opposite, too much intelligence and not enough bravery.
She approached the group slowly, content to let them argue.
"Do we have any ropes? We could try climbing to the second floor?"
Iris nearly snorted, that idea was worse than the first.
The men jumped at the sound, raising their guns, but lowered them just as fast when they saw who it was.
"Oh, sorry ma'am, we didn't know it was you" another muttered, practically leaping to attention. A woman, Iris noticed, interesting.
Iris ignored them, striding up to the heavy wooden door. She studied it for a few seconds, hearing the confused exclamations of her subordinates behind her. She raised her fist to the door.
And knocked.
She waited, her ears picking up soft words spoke inside, although she couldn't make them out. After half a minute of waiting The door creaked open a inches. The face that appeared in the gap was pale, but not afraid, cropped brown hair revealed to Iris a military background.
"Ummm...what do you want?" Said the man, his voice full of certainty but not shaking. Iris liked that.
"I" she started, taking time with her words, "have come to parley".
"Ha!" The man laughed, but there was no humour in it. "Why would we parley with you?"
Iris sighed, this again. "I offer a solution, you come out of there and fight me in single combat. If you win my men will retreat and you are free to rebuild your broken little lives."
The man hesitated, "and if I lose?"
Iris shrugged, "does it matter? You won't be alive to see it"
"Yes it matters" the stranger snarled.
"So angry" iris muttered under her breath, "what did I ever do to you?" She raised her voice so he could hear, "how about this? If you lose I promise to be merciful to those within the house at this present time"
Another hesitation, "why should I trust anything you promise?"
Iris shrugged again, "you can't I guess, but if you don't step out of there we'll just starve you out. So, I guess the question is, how would you like to die? Starving and knowing the end is coming and that you could have prevented it, or with a weapon in you hand?"
The man closed the door, it closing with a soft click, but that wasn't everything to be heard. Iris heard heavy furniture being dragged against smooth wooden floors, and a soft grunt of exertion as her opponent opened the door fully.
He was dressed for battle, with armour covering his chest, arms and legs, but his head and neck were left open to the world. The armour was plain steel, but covered in scars and scratches, tokens from a life at war. Iris liked that. He held his weapon in his right hand, a sickle, metal throughout, steel, like the rest of him.
Iris incline her head "Atlas?"
Her opponent nodded, "I always wanted to fight like a knight of old."
She nodded sadly, "now you'll die like a knight of old. What's your name?"
"What?" He stuttered, taken off guard, "Elric. Why?"
"I like to remember them, the people I kill. To honour them."
Elrics eyes narrowed, "I've heard of you."
Iris laughed softly, "have you now? And what do they say about me?"
"They call you the Kindly Demon, but you don't look like how the stories describe you."
"Stories tend to...exaggerate the truth."
"Maybe. They got the necklace right though."
Iris' hand automatically went to her necklace, a long string of human teeth, canines, taken from the huntsmen she'd killed over the years.
"Shall we begin?"
"Do you promise you'll show mercy to those inside?"
Iris inclined her head, "I do, do you believe me?"
Elric took a long, hard look at her. "I do."
Iris rushed her opponent, crossing the ground between them in half a second, her sword going for Elric's throat, but he was faster than anticipated, deflecting the blade with his own. She gasped, surprised and Elric took the opportunity to retaliate, aiming the sickle at her chest. She stepped back, and grabbed the weapon with her right hand, she screamed in pain as she grabbed the blade instead of the handle as intended.
Pain shot through her hand, but she pushed it down, out of her mind, and tightened her grip on the blade, she couldn't let go now.
Blood streamed down her arm, staining her jacket.
It was only shock that had prevented Elric from retaliating, but he regained his wits now and tried to pull his weapon free from Iris, but even as the blade scraped against her bone she refused to let go.
Elric changed tactic, sweeping Iris' legs out from under her, she fell, taking the sickle with her, her back cracking against the packed dirt beneath her. As soon as she hitter ground she rolled, knowing the blow was coming, and sure enough Elrics foot smashed into the ground where here face had been less than a second ago.
She rolled into a crouch, both weapons raised, and triggered the transformation for the sickle, as she had predicted it transformed into a gun, a machine gun to be precise.
She squeezed the trigger for a brief second, and five bullets found their mark. They penetrated Elrics armour, burying themselves into his chest.
His aura broke in the second impact. Weakling.
Iris stood, and strode over to Elric where he was still stood, and planted her sword through his chest, he coughed once, bloodily, and then fell.
Iris nodded once at his body, then knelt next to him, opening his mouth.
She reached in, feeling the shape of his teeth until she found what she was looking for. A canine, on the right side of his mouth, she tugged, hard, and it came loose.
Iris stood, pocketing the bloody tooth and turned to face her men. A sizeable crowd had gathered since she had begun her fight with Elric, and they were all looking at her.
She sighed heavily, morons. "Bring me those inside the house, now!" She snapped. And they leapt to obey.
They poured into the house, dragging the survivors out one by one until they all knelt before Iris.
She studied them with her one good eye, a collection of old and middle aged folks. No children.
Good. She hated killing children.
She walked up and down the line, letting her presence do the work. Letting the fear deep into every part of their body, every part of their mind, it would make what came next so much easier.
Iris stopped next to an old man, his age and experience set in wrinkles and liver spots on his face. Without warning Iris struck, her sword cleaving his head from his body effortlessly. His body toppled over, blood from the stump spraying and soaking the person next to him, a woman of about 30, who screamed.
Iris proceeded in this matter, walking up and down the line, stopping at random to kill someone.
The line was down to only 3 people now, and only one of them seemed to be of any use to Iris. A man of around 25 with blonde hair to his shoulders and a grim set to his face, yet he met Iris' eye with steel in his own.
Iris smiled, she would enjoy breaking him.
She dispatched the remaining two within a few seconds of each other, before nodding toward the survivor, "take him" she said, and two white fang members grabbed him by the arms and dragged him off, putting him with any other prisoners they had taken.
Iris gazed at the bodies, all headless, all lifeless, all in a row. She had promised she would be merciful and so she had been. They had died painlessly, without brands or fire or nails in their hands.
Iris turned on her heel to gaze at the rest of the town, now a burning ruin.
She hadn't enjoyed this, but it was necessary.
(So...what do you guys think? It's a bit long I know but I had lots of fun making it, next chapter up next week!)