Chapter V: The Ragged they Come, The Ragged they Kill
Upstairs, on the fifth floor, Sekhmet was fighting for all he was worth. He had long ago lost the two unsheathed swords, reduced to a bloody fist fight. Anubis had broken his hold easily, the Ogre the most physically strong of the four Warlords. Sekhmet was only second to his strength, but an angry snake is a deadly snake. Faces were smeared with blood, as punches were taken full force.
"What's the matter, Venom? Getting tired?" Anubis cackled, as he tangled his fingers in Sekhmet's wiry green hair.
Sekhmet couldn't reply, as Anubis' neck snapped forward, his forehead crushing against Sekhmet's. He staggered backwards, dazed. A fist buried in his gut, causing him to double over in pain.
"You are no match for me." Anubis grinned, his lips close to Sekhmet's ear. "Why don't you just give up? I'll kill you painlessly."
"Like hell!!" Sekhmet spat, his words accented with a spray of blood. Anubis threw him against the far wall, leaving a Sekhmet-shaped dent in the plaster. Hands were locked around the small bit of exposed neck, slowly crushing in his windpipe.
Sekhmet fought for air, his beady eyes searching over Anubis' face. His right hand fumbled for one of his four remaining swords, and finally found one, wrapping his blood-soaked fingers around the grip.
"As the mortals say..." He grunted, unsheathing the blade. Anubis looked confused for a moment. "FUCK OFF!!" He braced the dull edge of the steel against the palm of his left hand, and with all the strength he could muster, shoved upwards.
Anubis staggered back, his arms cut from his body at the mid-forearm. Sekhmet leered at the undead bastard, who was too concerned with the loss of his appendages to realize that the swordsman was about to go in for the kill.
Pulling away from the wall, Sekhmet reared back on one foot, nimbly twisting the tachi blade in his hands, so that he was holding it like a spear. He howled, before launching the sword at Anubis, who was busy regenerating his arms.
"Urk..." Anubis' body hitched violently as the blade embedded itself square in his stomach, impaling him fully. Sekhmet followed his sword, his fists meeting with the soft flesh of Anubis' face.
It was working. He was pushing him backwards. Towards the window. While he laid blows on Anubis with his left, his right was tightened around the cold grip of another tachi. "Say goodnight." He grunted one final time, his left hand freeing the sword from Anubis' gut. There was a flash, and his other arm shot out, thrusting the sword deep into his chest.
The stunned, pained look on Anubis' face was one of sheer horror, as the sword went true, piercing his shriveled husk of a heart. Sekhmet hissed, as Anubis slumped against the windowsill.
He twisted his wrist, slowly, as he withdrew the blade from Anubis' chest. At the same time, he was pushing on Anubis, leaning him ever closer to the hole in the window.
"Sekhmet.." The whisper was a wet slurp, blood flowing freely from Anubis' mouth.
His cold serpentine eyes roamed the bloodied yet still malicious face of what had been Anubis. There was no remnant of the former Warlord and Chosen One there, there was only this... this thing.. twisted by the Dark Forces, made into an undead mercenary. He couldn't reply. He didn't know what to say. So instead he hardened his features into a snarling, vengeful mask, something that the reborn Ogre should be fearful of. If this was the path his soul had taken, so be it. Sekhmet would show no mercy. There was no regret in his heart, nor did his snarl falter, as he gave one final push, ejecting Anubis from the window, while dislodging his sword from Anubis with one hard twist.
There was no scream. Nothing. Sekhmet could not bear to look down, to watch the body of his former ally drop like a stone. He sheathed the four tachi blades he had used, after cleaning the tainted blood from them with the bedclothes. Before he left, Sekhmet looked at the gray smear of clouds, and the solid wall of rain. It seemed like a painting... some depressive artist's final work. That couldn't be the real city out there. Outside was merely a runny, monochrome watercolor painting, not a battle with a resurrected soul he had once called a friend. At least Sekhmet would have liked to think so.
"You'll be back. I know it, Anubis. You'll return, and you will see just who you are dealing with."
Upstairs, on the fifth floor, Sekhmet was fighting for all he was worth. He had long ago lost the two unsheathed swords, reduced to a bloody fist fight. Anubis had broken his hold easily, the Ogre the most physically strong of the four Warlords. Sekhmet was only second to his strength, but an angry snake is a deadly snake. Faces were smeared with blood, as punches were taken full force.
"What's the matter, Venom? Getting tired?" Anubis cackled, as he tangled his fingers in Sekhmet's wiry green hair.
Sekhmet couldn't reply, as Anubis' neck snapped forward, his forehead crushing against Sekhmet's. He staggered backwards, dazed. A fist buried in his gut, causing him to double over in pain.
"You are no match for me." Anubis grinned, his lips close to Sekhmet's ear. "Why don't you just give up? I'll kill you painlessly."
"Like hell!!" Sekhmet spat, his words accented with a spray of blood. Anubis threw him against the far wall, leaving a Sekhmet-shaped dent in the plaster. Hands were locked around the small bit of exposed neck, slowly crushing in his windpipe.
Sekhmet fought for air, his beady eyes searching over Anubis' face. His right hand fumbled for one of his four remaining swords, and finally found one, wrapping his blood-soaked fingers around the grip.
"As the mortals say..." He grunted, unsheathing the blade. Anubis looked confused for a moment. "FUCK OFF!!" He braced the dull edge of the steel against the palm of his left hand, and with all the strength he could muster, shoved upwards.
Anubis staggered back, his arms cut from his body at the mid-forearm. Sekhmet leered at the undead bastard, who was too concerned with the loss of his appendages to realize that the swordsman was about to go in for the kill.
Pulling away from the wall, Sekhmet reared back on one foot, nimbly twisting the tachi blade in his hands, so that he was holding it like a spear. He howled, before launching the sword at Anubis, who was busy regenerating his arms.
"Urk..." Anubis' body hitched violently as the blade embedded itself square in his stomach, impaling him fully. Sekhmet followed his sword, his fists meeting with the soft flesh of Anubis' face.
It was working. He was pushing him backwards. Towards the window. While he laid blows on Anubis with his left, his right was tightened around the cold grip of another tachi. "Say goodnight." He grunted one final time, his left hand freeing the sword from Anubis' gut. There was a flash, and his other arm shot out, thrusting the sword deep into his chest.
The stunned, pained look on Anubis' face was one of sheer horror, as the sword went true, piercing his shriveled husk of a heart. Sekhmet hissed, as Anubis slumped against the windowsill.
He twisted his wrist, slowly, as he withdrew the blade from Anubis' chest. At the same time, he was pushing on Anubis, leaning him ever closer to the hole in the window.
"Sekhmet.." The whisper was a wet slurp, blood flowing freely from Anubis' mouth.
His cold serpentine eyes roamed the bloodied yet still malicious face of what had been Anubis. There was no remnant of the former Warlord and Chosen One there, there was only this... this thing.. twisted by the Dark Forces, made into an undead mercenary. He couldn't reply. He didn't know what to say. So instead he hardened his features into a snarling, vengeful mask, something that the reborn Ogre should be fearful of. If this was the path his soul had taken, so be it. Sekhmet would show no mercy. There was no regret in his heart, nor did his snarl falter, as he gave one final push, ejecting Anubis from the window, while dislodging his sword from Anubis with one hard twist.
There was no scream. Nothing. Sekhmet could not bear to look down, to watch the body of his former ally drop like a stone. He sheathed the four tachi blades he had used, after cleaning the tainted blood from them with the bedclothes. Before he left, Sekhmet looked at the gray smear of clouds, and the solid wall of rain. It seemed like a painting... some depressive artist's final work. That couldn't be the real city out there. Outside was merely a runny, monochrome watercolor painting, not a battle with a resurrected soul he had once called a friend. At least Sekhmet would have liked to think so.
"You'll be back. I know it, Anubis. You'll return, and you will see just who you are dealing with."