Chapter Three
Todd stumbled down the dirt path, prodded by his own staff in the cool Unonian morning. Storm clouds looked to be in the distance, but whether or not they would hit the procession or the forests behind them was a different story. He had no idea how long he had been walking, only that he was chained and hadn't had sufficient food or sleep in days.
"I admit I've overlooked my own abilities," he confessed to his adopted brother.
"Just be grateful no one's died yet. Especially you."
A prisoner, a thin shell of a vulpine male, walked next to Todd. "You tried your best, sir. We've been devoid of hope for a week or so anyway."
"Never give up." Ignoring the sharp sounds of his chains, Todd moved his hand to check his side. Bandaged tightly, the wound was most likely closed now, though it was still painful to the touch. But, as he felt around, his movements suddenly became sporadic. "My… my… it's gone!"
"I have it," Joshuo assured. "It's safe in the large pocket of my trench coat." He paused. "Idiot."
"What?"
"You could've taken all of them, you know?"
"Well, they won't be as lucky next time."
"What are you waiting for?" he whispered. "You know Elena lives in Cavask. I'm sure she'd love to see you in chains."
He blinked hard as he turned away. "Don't remind me."
"Then do something about it."
Todd glanced over his shoulder, noticing the sentry behind him. He met his eyes once, then continued to face forward in a cold yet stern manner. All around him were guards – some with guns resting firmly in their hands, ready to be fired off within a heartbeat's notice. Coupled with the fact that he was chained, the situation looked hopeless.
"I have another plan," Todd whispered.
Joshuo nodded. "I see… kind of. But if you're wrong about this -"
"Yeah, I know. I won't fail this time – it'll work out just right." He paused to look over his shoulder once more. "Just count with me, okay?"
"Wait, what are we doing right now?"
"Three!"
In an instant, Todd ducked under the watchful eye of the sentinel, turned around, and used the chain that held his wrists together to catch the lip of the axe-like blade and slip it out of the guard's hands with a swift, fluid jerk. In only a few seconds, the staff was his.
"Get him!"
The entire armed unit quickly moved in, dispatching in and around where he stood. Yet they could not touch him. His reflexes and rapid attacks were too fast for theirs, and their numbers began to deplete. First came a literal dismemberment of the man who kept him in line during the march, then a careful decapitation of Joshuo's keeper. Next came a series of dodges, making him look more like a dancing spirit in the wind than an actual killer.
"Todd! Be careful!"
The fleetness of his blade was faster than the rushing current of the mighty Ca'ar River over the Ta'lavero Mountains in springtime. His movements were as fluid as a paintbrush on canvas, painting a picture of blood and cunning murders of the opposition. As his staff cut through the top of a human's head, he pushed the axe-like blade of the guardian staff into the dirt and leapt, using its position as a springboard to launch him across a large distance directly in the path of more armed men. Their lives were dashed short about as fast as the urbanite's breath escaping from a cold nose.
Frustrated, he used the blades of his staff to slice the wrist chain in half. Then, with the edges still covered in fresh blood, he sliced the neck of another assailant and brought the staff down to cut another man down the middle, breaking through the metal breastplate like a knife through undercooked meat. Yet despite all this, his eyes carried to the prisoners, who looked to be safe but very nervous. Breathing a sigh of relief, he jumped into another contest and continued to slice away.
"Get the hell off me!"
Looking over his shoulder, he spotted Joshuo being mugged by three brutes. They beat him relentlessly and tried to strip off his trench coat. His shades, already ripped off, looked to be broken on the ground. But the Chaljsko fighter's attention was swayed once again to the heat of the battle, where more resistance awaited his attacks.
"Todd! Catch!"
The urbanite, now displaying his annoyance with a young furrowed brow, turned once again to his adopted brother. This time, however, he sprinted toward him, but not before kicking a soldier in the chest, sending him backwards on a collection of his own men. The bundle of cloth, his burden to carry for the rest of his life, lay motionless on the ground between him and Joshuo. Scampering over to the location as fast as he could, Todd ran up the slight hill and dove for the curse, stretching his hand out as far as he could.
He never reached it.
"I think that will be enough!" General McPavo, an all-too-familiar face, blasted. He overemphasized the word that came just after his booted foot stepped on the outstretched hand of the urbanite. Pressing harder, he laughed. "You're good, but not good enough. You're terribly flawed." Suddenly, his attention turned to the bundle of cloth on the ground. "What's this?"
"No!" Todd groaned. "Don't touch it! It's evil!"
"Evil? Well, we'll see about that."
His gloved hands reached for the cloth, picking it up like a thief snatching it from a dying man. Undoing the twine that tied the rag together, he pushed away the old cloth.
"What the hell?"
"Don't!"
With a look of confusion, the general held the object higher, so others could see what it was. Crowds of guards, even civilian prisoners, gathered around to view it. In his hands was a mask, molded in the shape of the front of a vulpine male's face. It was featureless, except for a nose painted of dark obsidian and two large, blank eyeholes, which no light shone through, though completely open. No apparent breathing holes were drilled into it either. Made of a polished white marble, it looked cold, as condensation immediately formed on it.
"Ack!" General McPavo sputtered. He dropped the mask onto the dirt below.
"Just leave it there!" Todd shrieked. "You don't understand its power!"
"Power?" the general said with a grin. "What sort of power?"
"Nothing! Just let it be! No one pick it up!"
The general paused as a team of guards pulled Todd back despite his squirms and twists. "I don't get it. How does one breathe through this?"
"They don't! They become dead with it on!"
"Dead?"
"The mask takes over the host's body! Leave it be!"
Looking back at Todd, then the mask, then back at him once more, he drew a hand to his muzzle. "Then what does a Chaljsko fighter, a fighter for the Almighty, want with this mask?"
"Only the last wearer can destroy it!"
"So you're the last wearer?"
"Yes! Give it to me!"
"And what happens if another person were to wear this?"
"Their face melts off and their soul is sucked into its emptiness!"
"But if you were to wear it?"
"I'll never do that!"
"Answer me!"
Todd paused as he caught his breath. "If I wear it, I become evil. Its power and sheer darkness would cause the evil within it to use me as vehicle of its own will. There is a desire to wear it for the power, but my closeness to the Almighty and maturity in the Chaljsko prevents that for me."
"But you yourself remain intact with it on?"
"My soul cannot be harmed, for it is protected by the Almighty. My body cannot perish either, because I am the last wearer." Todd paused as he stretched his hands out once more. "Please, just please, give it back to me. You can beat me, chop off my hands, just please give it back to me. I beg you."
Once more the general paused, scanning the area and looking into the eyes of Todd. Finally, he picked up the mask and looked at it, exploring the features, or lack thereof. He stuck a finger through an eyehole and was surprised to see it didn't pass through, like it had become invisible. "You want it?"
"Yes, please give it to me. You don't know of its power!"
The general nodded. "He speaks the truth – Chaljsko fighters rarely lie, even to their own enemies." He motioned to his guards. "Tie him down. I want to see this in action."
"No!" Todd screamed. "No! You don't understand! You don't understand!"
Most of the prisoners backed away, watching as the soldiers used the links cut from Todd's wrist chain to hold his arms outstretched. Another man held his feet together.
"Please!" Todd begged. "Please!"
May you sleep, Todd McEdek.
Die within our grasp.
Never to wake again!
Todd thrashed his head about. "Never! Please!"
"Shut up!" the general boomed as a sentry knocked off his shades. "Hold his head still!"
You will return to us, Todd.
You dare resist? You are powerless and lost!
Feeble in this world of hatred and anger!
At that moment, the mask was placed on his face. All his pleas and screams stopped, but his body began to contort and twist, like he was fighting a battle within his inner self. His movements were sporadic and strong enough to break the holds of the soldiers, as his back arched backwards and his hands shook in unnatural fits.
"Sir, we have to get out of here!"
General McPavo pushed the Mafian soldier aside. "He hasn't done anything yet!"
With the last syllable escaping his breath, the masked man stared directly into the eyes of the decorated man. In an instant, the general's face began to melt as his head split down the middle. A slight high-pitched scream coming from bubbling flesh was all he could utter before it exploded, sending bits and pieces flying in all directions.
Screams and pandemonium littered the air. Soldiers and prisoners alike scattered away from the area in sheer panic. As Todd slowly stood from where he lay, he looked at his staff as it came to him. Then, with jerky movements, he ran after two slow prisoners.
"No! Please stop!"
His staff met the back of the first vixen, protruding outward through her breast. As he swung the staff to the left, it escaped her body and nailed the other kneeling vixen in the neck, taking her head off with one clean swipe. A quick flick of a hand caused the grounds nearby to crack and protrude in jagged peaks.
"Todd!"
Turning to Joshuo, the slave readied his staff and sprinted toward him.
"You have the power!"
Thick storm clouds gathered quickly over the grassy field. While no rain came from them, lighting and the thick sound of thunder reverberated across the landscape. The look of absolute dead seeped in, like the colors of a painting running to the floor. As the sky darkened, the landscape began to alter to form more suiting scenery. Grim trees, once healthy and colorful, quickly withered and donned dead trunks of grey and black. The grass seemed to reverse its growth and recede back into the soil it once resided, leaving behind an inhospitable floor. Winds whipped around, howling and shrieking as terror settled across the land.
"What the hell is happening?" a soldier cried as the masses fled farther away.
"It's me, Joshuo!" Joshuo screamed as he ducked from an impressive swing. "Don't give in – you're still there!" He rolled out of the way to avoid another jerky slash. "Fight it!" As he jumped out of the way of another attack, Todd slashed open the chest of another civilian, his brittle ribs cracking under the momentum of the blade.
"Wake up! See with your own eyes!"
Though Joshuo managed to evade the relentless attacks, his luck soon ran out. A rapid slash cut through his chest, letting fresh blood leak from his pectorals to his abdomen.
"Todd," Joshuo cringed as he fell to the floor, "don't kill me! Set yourself free! Set yourself free!"
Flinging the staff at the blind man, Todd watched him dodge the throw. However, his relentless pursuit propelled him forward with very jerky movements, like his own spirit was resisting. Pouncing on Joshuo, he began to claw at his flesh like the talons of a vulture on fresh meat.
"Todd! Stop! Set yourself free!" Joshuo moved his hands about, but soon the harsh slashing made his own words unintelligible and mutilated from a bloody façade. Lighting tore through the thick layers of darkness, producing purple flames and orange sparks.
Suddenly, the clawing stopped. Joshuo spat blood on the marbled face as he faced the blank expression. "Almighty, no. Todd, if you can still hear me, listen!" he put his hands forward until he touched the cold mask. "Think of Uno! Think of Elena! Think of the millions of innocent lives you promised to protect!" Jerking again, Joshuo cringed, then continued to speak. "Give it one last try! For Elena! For us all! Set yourself free!"
With deliberate movements, Todd moved his hands up to the artificial face. Then, once his hands met Joshuo's, he began to pry at it, trying to remove the mask and the curse from his body.
"Help!" Joshuo screamed as hard as he could. "He's trying to free himself! He needs help!"
From the hillside came a collection of Mafian soldiers who, without stopping or even attempting to avoid the perils of the hellish landscape, tackled the emaciated urbanite with impressive force. His body slammed against the barren soil with a hard lick as the group reached for his face, using much force to try and pry it off. Yet, even with Todd's own help, it refused to budge.
"How the heck does this come off?" a guard yelled.
They turned Todd over on his back and continued to tug, watching as his head bounced up and down on the hard ground.
"Set him down!" Joshuo cried.
"No!" another armored Mafian soldier replied. "We can't risk that! It's either that or kill him!"
"You cannot kill the undead! But trust me and if I'm wrong you can kill me!"
The men dropped him. As they backed away, Todd slowly brought his right hand to his forehead. Then, with increased resistance, yanked it to press down on the spot where his rib cage branched off.
"What's he doing?"
"I can't see, but I can feel it. He's setting himself free."
Moving his hand over the left shoulder, he pressed harder on the spot and tried to place it on his right shoulder. His hand and entire body trembled and contorted violently, though each jittery twitch brought the finger closer to its final destination. Though it was very deliberate and time seemed to slow, his right hand finally met that of his right shoulder, completing the sign of the cross. At the moment of its completion, his body went limp.
"Is he dead?" a prisoner, who crept closer to his body, asked.
"No!" Joshuo screamed. "He can't be dead! He has to be alive. His soul must be very tired from fighting the battle, so give him time!"
"How do you know all of this?" a Mafian asked as he turned to the blind man. "Did you ever wear it?"
"No," Joshuo said as he shook his head, "but I've been with him since he was nine. I remember, and he tells me these things."
"How did it happen before?"
"The Kicktachs, an ancient Careinian sect, once held control over it. Since they've been wiped out, however, it cannot be controlled." He scoffed. "It's taken me long to accept it, because of the immense power it has." Wiping his hand over his face, he removed more blood seeping from every inch of it. "It seems in the process I've donned a mask of my own. A very bloody one indeed. But not mechanized. I hate that."
Slowly Todd's hands reached up to his face and pulled the mask off. Almost immediately the cold scenery returned to normal, though most trees appeared to be bent or broken, and the dark thunder clouds dissipated to nothing. The urban fox's breathing was very raspy, and he was very fatigued, to the point where he could barely sit up to view the crowds both near and far from where he lay. Propping himself up with one jittery hand, he felt around his real face dumbly and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Todd?" Joshuo asked. "Is that you?"
Peeking from the gaps his fingers made, he nodded. "Yes, it's me," the urbanite said with a raspy tone. He looked at the mask, first with a devious grin, then, after he shook his head, with a cold glare. "Bring it to me," he commanded.
A Unonian peasant vixen, complete with her typical dress of red, white, and black, timidly stepped up to Todd and carefully handed him the mask, along with the cloth and string that left it dormant for so long.
He smiled. "Thank you. A vixen's heart is truly pure." As he bowed his head and began to quickly cover it, he sighed.
Joshuo turned towards a Mafian sentinel. "Your commanding officer spoke of an assault on Cavask, did he not?"
The man hesitated, then let his eyes wander over to Todd, who carefully covered the mask with worn out cloth. "Yes. Only one more division though. I swear that is the truth."
"We must go to Cavask," Joshuo chimed in as a more sentries turned to him. "If you do not submit to us, then I will force him to use the mask again, and he will kill you and all of your men!"
"That's a sight we don't want to see ever again," a Mafian replied, looking at the Unonian scenery, which appeared to have reverted to its former beauty. "We will do as you say, just don't… you know… make him like that again."
"Good man," Joshuo replied as he extended his hand out to the man's shoulder, almost like he knew he was kneeling. "You will fight against any intrusions entering the city and obliterate any Mafian forces that dispel the area."
"Yes sir," the man replied meekly.
Todd, who heard the entire conversation from a distance, set the bundle of cloth beside himself. As he looked up, he spotted his shades nearby, picked them up, and then set them back on his face. However, true relaxation did not ensue.
"Almighty, no," he spoke as his ears bent backward. "What have I done? What have I done?"
Using his staff to prop himself up, he weakly walked over to where the two vixens lay, gazing at their fatal stabbings with humility seeping from his wounds. His knees hit the grassy ground with a bound as his hands touched the warm blood of one of the corpses. "What have I done? Almighty! I am not worthy to be your servant! I am a slave to evil!"
"Nonsense," Joshuo said as he set a hand on his shoulder. "You are the destroyer of evil!"
Todd shook his head. "The power still resides in it."
"But you have overcome it! All that power and your soul overcame it! Surely you are close to the Almighty, for if you weren't, you would be truly enslaved!"
"But what does it matter? I am the killer of good too. If anything, I deserve the enslavement."
"You told me you were a patriot. That doesn't mean perfection."
"I kill my own people!" Todd shouted. "How is that patriotic?"
Joshuo punched him on the shoulder. "People die! That's a shame, but you must move on! Furthermore, it wasn't really you doing it – it was the mask, right?"
Todd paused. "I don't know," he said sternly, "but a part of me doesn't want to know for sure."