The VVitch
A/N: Alrighty! I'm back in action folks. Once again, I must apologize for the delay when presenting this chapter, as I really have no excuse as to why it's been so long. For this chapter, the Doom Slayer has arrived in the setting of the VVitch, and the the predators of this world are going to quickly become the prey! Enjoy and remember that I own neither of these franchises!
...
VEGA immediately registered the anomaly as they passed between dimensions once more. He had predicted from the start that attempting to jump with the creature in tow would likely cause some manner of complication, but even he could not be certain as to how the attempt would play out. From what he had already gathered on the monster, it had the ability to traverse dimensions similarly to how the tether system did. The only difference being that the creature's power in this regard was limited, and it only possessed the capacity to jump to dimensions that were, for lack of a better word, "close" to its own. In this instance, the only dimension close enough to the creature's original had been an alternate version of Earth, the same Earth in which VEGA and the Doom Slayer had first encountered it. The Slayer had been able to destroy its physical form, but upon doing so, VEGA had received readings from his scanners that indicated some form of dimensional jump had occurred. The monster not been completely destroyed.
After further analysis, VEGA concluded that destroying the creature's body had triggered a defense mechanism that had returned its consciousness to its "home" dimension, where it likely had the capacity to rebuild itself. Killing it then became more complicated, as the tether system did not have the capacity to make a precise jump to the creature's home dimension to finish it off. But VEGA had proposed an alternate idea after some consideration.
If they could not enter its domain, perhaps they could wrench it away. Due to the creature's limited jump capabilities, VEGA hypothesized that if they could force it into a dimension that was relatively isolated from others, then its defense mechanism would be rendered useless, giving it nowhere to go when the Slayer destroyed it again and thereby killing it indefinitely.
The Doom Slayer had agreed to the plan and had waited for the creature to reemerge. Approximately twelve hours after destroying its body, VEGA picked up its signature once again. They then had been able to successfully track and latch onto the creature before jumping once more.
Unfortunately, the tether system had only been calibrated to the Praetor Suit, meaning that warping the creature as well as the Doom Slayer had been an unstable process at best. Under normal circumstances, the transition between dimensions lasted approximately two seconds, but VEGA immediately registered the transition as lasting a total of ten seconds this time, likely due to the added "weight" of the creature. And approximately 2.5 milliseconds before emerging into their next reality, VEGA felt the life readings of the creature disappear, as the tether system had finally been overwhelmed from the additional load and had automatically discarded the excess mass.
The creature had been separated from them.
Running calculations as quickly as possible, VEGA confirmed that despite their separation, the two parties would still arrive in the same universe. The only difference came from their spatial location. A setback, to be certain, as the creature would need to be tracked down once more.
Another setback made itself known shortly after, as the tether system had once again chosen to deposit them above the surface of an alternate Earth. Visual feed showed VEGA that they had arrived in the upper atmosphere of the planet, and after a nearly instantaneous analysis, the A.I. measured that their arrival point had been a little over four thousand kilometers above the surface. Fortunately, the Doom Slayer was capable of surviving such a fall.
A sudden blip in the tether system made itself aware to VEGA, and the A.I. immediately devoted an appropriate amount of processing power towards it. The blip was faint but discernable, and VEGA triangulated its origin as emanating from a point on the planet's surface below.
It was coming from the creature; VEGA was certain of it. Residual "wash" from the dimensional jump must have still clung to its form, and the tether system in the Praetor Suit was sensitive enough to pick it up. It burned strongly for a brief moment, then disappeared from the readouts, but VEGA had already locked in the location of the source.
"Calculating trajectory now," VEGA said promptly as the Doom Slayer righted himself in his free fall towards the ground.
"The creature's location is in this quadrant of North America," VEGA continued after less than a second of calculation, marking the position on the Slayer's HUD. "I recommend adjusting our course to intercept."
The Slayer said nothing as usual, but began arching his body towards the indicated location. As they passed through the atmosphere, VEGA registered the exterior temperature of the Praetor Suit beginning to rise from atmospheric reentry, the combined speed and profile of the Slayer causing the Praetor Suit to glow red and then white with the heat.
The surface of the planet drew nearer, and VEGA noted as details came into view that even though humans likely populated the planet, it was vastly underdeveloped. This indicated primitive technology, and after examining the topography and celestial positioning, VEGA concluded that the timeline of this Earth was nearly the same as their own, but chronologically located about five hundred years in the past.
That meant that on this Earth, the year was between 1600 and 1650, making the region they were falling toward mostly inhabited by Native American tribes and early European settlers. A relatively small populace compared to their usual encounters, but still more than enough lives for the creature to prey upon if given the chance. VEGA voiced his findings to the Doom Slayer.
"The creature will likely seek out any nearby humans to feed upon," VEGA stated. "Beginning life scans now."
Time until impact was now exactly one minute, and rudimentary scans came back showing no immediate life forms in the vicinity of their impact point. VEGA attempted to broaden his scans to begin tracking the creature once more, but the Praetor Suit's systems could only reach so far. He would only be able to fully understand the situation below when they landed.
…
Caleb felt the daggers of fear and desperation sink deep into his being. The woods around him rose unfamiliarly, signaling he was far from the farm, or any recognizable landmark for that matter, and the shade of dusk had just begun its greedy consumption of the lingering light. Shadows stretched their twisted fingers across the ground, almost as if attempting to usurp the lad from his footing. Caleb attempted to shake the thought of such a sinister setting from his head and looked about in the hope of catching a glimpse of Fowler among the foliage. He'd given up on summoning the hound with a whistle, as he had never properly learned from his father, William. Man had always been too preoccupied with tending the farm, which had become an increasingly cumbersome task ever since…
Caleb shook his head and banished his line of thought. He could not dwell on that now, not when lost and alone in these unforgiving woods. With that in mind, he once again began a slow march in what he hoped was the right direction.
Squinting against waning light, Caleb felt his fears grow greater still, and he slowly began a prayer taught to him long ago to recite in times of crisis:
"O God my Lord, I now begin," Caleb spoke, his voice trembling and quick to reflect his faltering resolve. He gripped the musket tightly in his hands as he continued to walk, the weapon large and unwieldy in his young and inexperienced grasp.
"O help me and I'll leave my sin.
For I repentant now will be,
From evil I will turn to thee.
None ever shall destroy my faith,
Nor do I mind what Satan saith."
Caleb paused for a brief moment, then began the prayer once more, the repetition bringing him a small amount of comfort against the unsavory setting.
"O God my Lord, I now begin-"
Caleb's prayer abruptly stopped as the sound of a pained yowling sounded through the forest. With a deep shiver, Caleb recognized the howling, and he quickened his pace to a run to reach the source. The agonized yelping began to grow weaker, and Caleb grit his teeth and willed his legs to move faster in response. The overly large musket worked against him, however, and the lad's balance faltered from the uneven weight. An outstretched root caught on his foot, and he tripped and tumbled onto his front, the musket landing beside him with a soft thud. Caleb grunted as he landed, but his annoyance over his fall was immediately forgotten when the noise of pained whimpers reached his ears.
Slowly lifting his gaze from the forest floor, Caleb looked ahead to a sight from his nightmares.
Fowler lay in the brush before him, the hound's entrails in a bloody display in the grass. It looked as though his stomach had been ripped open by some great beast, and as Caleb's gaze shifted from surprise to absolute horror, he saw that Fowler's side still rose and fell with weakened breaths, each exhale accompanied by a pained whimper as the hound expired slowly. For a few moments, Caleb lay frozen, unable to wrench his gaze away from the gore that had formerly been Fowler, and it was only when the hound finally fell still that the lad found the strength to rise once more.
Caleb's revulsion suddenly caught up with him, and he doubled over and gagged onto the grass, the sight of the wretched corpse enough to cause his stomach deep unrest.
After a few moments of hacking and coughing, Caleb numbingly retrieved the musket from the dirt, looking anywhere but Fowler at the moment. He looked around, desperately trying to find some distinguishable landmark, but he saw nothing, and the brush only seemed to grow thicker around him, leaving no easy route ahead.
In the fading light, Caleb suddenly caught a flash of movement, and his eyes darted over to see a hare enter the nearby bramble. It was the same hare that Caleb had set out to hunt this morning, and without further thought, the lad started after it, his fear driving him to pursue the only thing he recognized in these now nightmarish woods.
Picking his way as best he could through the thorns and jutting branches, Caleb's breath grew heavier as he battled against the thickening brush. With each step, it seemed to grow thicker still, slowing Caleb's progress to a crawl as he followed the hare deeper into the woods.
With a final push forward, Caleb emerged from the bramble, his face stinging from the swipes of the overhanging branches. The last light of day was all but gone, and a thick overcast now dominated the sky. All was shaded in a dark and ominous hue, but Caleb's blood was chilled not at the sight around him, but at the sight before him.
It was not the hare, but a small shack, even though to call it that would have been generous. It was a primitive structure appearing to be built mostly out of plants and mud. The dwelling sat nestled between two trees, and as Caleb looked closer, he saw smoke billowing from a hole in the top of the shack in place of a chimney. This sign of civilization should have been welcoming to the young lad, but the shabby state of the dwelling struck an unsettling tone that Caleb couldn't quite place. It was as though a small voice in the back of his head was tugging at him, urging him to run as fast and as far away as possible from here. And yet, inexperience and child-like curiosity kept Caleb rooted to the spot, as he had never seen anyone else living in these woods save his family.
Caleb took a tentative step forward, then another. The rotten wood that constituted the door to the shack slowly opened wide as he came closer, but the darkness prevented him from seeing past the threshold. He took another step forward.
From the depths, a beautiful woman stepped forward into view, her ample frame complimented by a bright red cloak draped over a tight bodice. Caleb tried not to stare at her form, but he found himself suddenly unable to look away from the woman, her eyes captivating him in a trance that seemingly nothing could break.
Her eyes bore into his, and Caleb saw her face curl into a smile that beckoned him closer. As if at the mercy of some powerful spell, Caleb complied, taking another step towards the woman as she slowly knelt down, so they were face to face.
The small voice in the back of his head was screaming at him now, frantically crying out to him that he should flee, but Caleb couldn't have turned away if he had wanted to. The was transfixed on the woman before him and unable to do anything but move closer to her.
Caleb stopped in front of her, and the woman slowly reached a hand out to caress the lad's cheek. Her fingers were almost too soft as they brushed over his skin, but Caleb could not even spare them a glance, his eyes still firmly locked with the hers. Cupping his face, she slowly began pulling him closer, and Caleb's heart began to pound in anticipation.
She was so beautiful…
Her skin was so soft…
And her eyes were just so warm…
The woman suddenly jolted and froze. Her eyes shooting open wide, and her hand on Caleb's face losing its pull.
In the next moment, she wretched, and blood spewed from her mouth out in front of her, much of it landing on Caleb's face.
Caleb cried out and fell backward onto the ground, the spell over him suddenly broken by the woman's reaction. He lifted an arm and wiped away the blood from his eyes, and once he could see again, he looked up at her.
She was still frozen in place, and her shocked expression lingered on Caleb for a moment before slowly tilting downward to gaze at her torso. Caleb followed with his own eyes and gasped in horror at what he saw.
From the center of the woman's chest protruded a thick and vile appendage. It looked as though she had been speared from behind by it, and from where the appendage sprouted, blood and gore blossomed and soiled the bodice.
Had Caleb's stomach not already been emptied earlier, he would have vomited at the sight of the wound.
Suddenly, the woman began to rise from the ground, her body seemingly beginning to levitate as her feet left the forest floor. She began screaming in agony, her screech unlike any human's that Caleb had heard before. It pierced his ears and chilled him to the core, sounding almost as though it were some feral beast and not a woman screaming in front of him.
Her appearance began to change as she was lifted higher, her youthful appearance decaying into a haggard shell, as though she was aging by decades every second. The shrill piercing howl grew greater still, only to abruptly end as more blackened appendages appeared and ripped the now decrepit woman's body in two.
Caleb watched in horror as the pieces of the woman were cast aside, then his blood froze in his veins when he gazed right behind where the woman had just stood.
Standing at over twice the height of a human, a demon loomed over Caleb, its face an expressionless pale mask that honed in the lad. It's long and slender torso was entirely blackened save for a strange design on its chest, and as Caleb sat frozen in fear for the second time, he saw that the thick appendages from before were sprouting from somewhere on the monster's back, the end of the tentacles still slick with the woman's blood.
As the tentacles began to gravitate towards him, Caleb felt a sharp pain abruptly throb inside his skull. At the same time, a distinct ringing in his ears began to grow louder and louder, and Caleb lost sight of the monster as all of his senses betrayed him. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe.
He couldn't even think…
Just as his consciousness began to fade, an incredible boom was heard, and the ringing and pain suddenly ceased. Caleb gasped in immediate relief, and though his vision was still blurred, he spotted a bright white light appear from the darkening background. Its luminous form took the shape of a humanoid, though Caleb could not make out the details of the blazing figure as it began to do battle with the monstrosity.
O Holy God…
Caleb's mind barely formulated a prayer as his vision grew dark.
Thou hast sent thy holy legion…thy angels of above…
It was an angel. Caleb was certain of it. Its luminescence began overpowering the creature of darkness, and the last thing Caleb remembered before the he slipped into unconsciousness was the sight of the angel striking down the demon with its holy fist, showing no mercy as it disposed of the unholy wretch.
My Lord…thou hast found me blessed…for all of my thanks…know that I am thine…
…
The Doom Slayer's rage overwhelmed the monster, the white-hot heat from his armor on par with the fire that burned within him. The slender beast lashed out in desperation, but even it knew that there was only one possible outcome. The Slayer had proven himself unstoppable, already banishing the creature once before with ease. At that time, the monster had been able to escape, had been able to flee to where he could not follow. But the Slayer's determination had been underestimated, and now there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and certainly no way to fight.
One of them was going to fall, and it was only now that the slender monster finally understood. It could see from its sightless eyes the unyielding force that hunted it, the unwavering creature that demanded its damnation. There were no options left, the only thing it could do was—
The slender creature's featureless head then exploded, as the Doom Slayer had found opportunity in its falter and had emptied a round from the super shotgun into its skull in the time it had taken to blink. The slender creature's now headless form froze for a moment, then slumped onto the forest floor, its essence this time dying with it.
"Termination successful," VEGA reported. "Its life force has been extinguished."
The Doom Slayer said nothing, his armor finally beginning to cool and darken once more. He looked upon the fallen monster for a brief moment before reaching down and ripping its torso in half for good measure. It had angered him greatly when he had failed to kill it before, so he would leave nothing to chance this time.
The Slayer then turned his attention to the corpse of the woman that the slender monster had killed. The woman's form was incredibly aged, yet his P.K.E. scanner showed that she possessed some sort of supernatural vitality even in death. The slender creature had been far stronger than her, but the Slayer's interest was still piqued, and he looked from the body to the small shack made of earth.
"This was likely her abode," VEGA confirmed. "I believe we will find more information about her anomalous state by inspecting the interior.
The Slayer agreed with a nod. A once over of the boy told him that the child was alright, so he hefted the unconscious lad over his shoulder and approached the small shack. The Praetor Suit's exterior temperature had returned to normal, so there was no worry of burning the child in his grasp.
Entering the dwelling, the Slayer immediately focused on a large mortar standing in the corner of the room, as the wooden basin was completely stained in dried blood. A large wooden club leaned against the wall adjacent to the mortar, its rounded end also encrusted with similar fluids. This alone was enough to damn the woman in the Slayer's eyes, and the scene in the rest of the dwelling only served to reinforce his conclusion.
Unholy sights were scattered about the place, from bloodied knives to skulls from both man and beast stacked in a pile in the corner. In the center of the room sat a stone slab, an encircled pentagram drawn upon it with dried blood. The hellish ink used to paint the pentagram had likely been obtained from the mortar and pestle in the corner.
"These items as well as the markings on the floor are indicative of a disciple of Wicca," VEGA stated. The Slayer had already drawn similar conclusions about the woman.
"The sight of this abode as well as the readings from the corpse outside support the theory that the woman was a successful practitioner of these arts."
The Slayer nodded in agreement.
She had been a witch.
At the thought, the Slayer's rage began to boil over once more. Though his knowledge of these monsters was limited, he was aware of the nature of their practices. The skulls in the corner were her victims, and their dried blood was on the floor and in the basin in the corner. Had he not been carrying the child on his shoulder, the Doom Slayer would have razed this place and hunted all others nearby at once, his anger stemming largely from the sight of the skulls in the corner. It was not just the fact that they were human skulls, it was that they all possessed one sickening trait, a trait that VEGA had not realized yet.
"A common practice in witchcraft is that of sacrifice," the A.I. continued, voicing his path of logic aloud. "But the victim must be unbaptized."
The Slayer clenched his hand that wasn't holding the boy, his eyes focusing on the pile of skulls stacked in the room. VEGA was quickly coming to the same realization that he had.
"The human skulls in the corner…" VEGA mused. There was suddenly a pause, which almost never came from VEGA, but it told the Slayer that the A.I. had uncovered the sickening truth.
"None of the skulls are of adults…Furthermore, size analysis indicates that none of them could have come from a human over ten years of age…"
The weight of the scene then settled on the A.I., and only after a few moments did VEGA break the silence.
"I detect similar life signatures nearby," the A.I. stated. "I suggest terminating them as soon as possible."
To anyone but the Slayer, his metallic voice would have sounded normal, but the Slayer had listened to the A.I. long enough to know that something was different. His pacing had been off, almost rushed even, as though VEGA had been eager to finish the sentence in order to incite action more quickly. It was indicative to the Slayer, not of an emotion, as it had barely been there in the first place, but the beginnings of one, and it had not been the first time.
It had first come to the Slayer's notice shortly after they had departed from the Forward Unto Dawn. VEGA had begun showing signs of change after bidding farewell to that other A.I., change such as focusing on things that did not necessarily pertain to the task at hand. At times, VEGA had begun to focus on subjects that he had deemed "interesting" or "unorthodox". It was not a large step from the natural drive of all A.I. to uncover knowledge, but it was distinctly different, as VEGA had specifically been learning more of things that pertained to human consciousness.
The A.I. had been trying to learn more about what it meant to be human.
As to whether that would turn out to be a good thing or not, the Doom Slayer had yet to see. It was no secret to him that personality development had the capacity to irreparably corrupt certain intelligences, which created the possibility of VEGA turning against him in the future. Such an outcome was regrettable, as the A.I. had proven himself invaluable since their reunion, and the Slayer viewed him now as a comrade rather than just an instrument to further his goals. To lose VEGA would be more than a loss of good equipment, but the Slayer was always prepared for the possibility, as those that considered themselves an ally of the Doom Slayer tended not to survive long.
And the twinge just now, the barely noticeable blip that VEGA had just displayed, it was the root of an emotion that the Slayer knew all too well. What VEGA was in reaction of only served to solidify his conclusion.
VEGA was pissed.
"The child's dwelling is nearby," the intelligence remarked, his tone and pace back to normal as though nothing had occurred. "I recommend returning him before disposing of the remaining witches."
As usual, the two of them were in agreement. However, the Slayer's work was not yet finished here.
After propping the boy's slumped form against a nearby tree, the Doom Slayer unceremoniously retrieved the two halves of the witch's corpse, his P.K.E. scanner still showing telltale signs of life within the carrion. This left the possibility of resurrection, and the Slayer had experienced more than enough of that from his enemies now to practice the art of the "double-tap". Throwing the two halves of the witch into the dark confines of the shack, the Doom Slayer produced his plasma rifle, and with a few practiced shots to the dried plants that were the constitution of the dwelling, the whole shack was soon engulfed in flame, everything inside burning with high intensity. Satisfied with the blaze, the Slayer turned on his heel and exited the hellhole, but not before cracking the stone slab in the center with an armored stomp.
And now, the child must be returned to safety, but immediately after that…
…the hunt began.
…
It had been perfect. They had been perfect. Every single one of them together had sown the seeds of discord long before Black Phillip had even set his sights upon them, but it had been the father, William, that had made it all too easy. His pride had blinded him, casting both himself and his family from the protection of their settlement and into Black Phillip's domain. And with their parting, they had all but given their lives to Phillip on a silver platter.
The wife, Katherine. Her loyalty to her husband was strong, but she had long lamented their departure from their homeland, and it was only her love for her children that had kept her strong.
An admirable foundation…
…and yet so easily toppled.
And topple it, Black Phillip did. Not long after settling in the wilderness did Katherine give birth. A young, healthy baby boy with the eyes of his mother and the face of his father. Samuel, they'd named him, and Katherine's capacity for love had grown tenfold when she had first laid eyes on the boy. He had been so beautiful…so happy…
…so unbaptized.
And so, it was with ease that Black Phillip had summoned his ilk, his disciples, his daughters of darkness, to make away with the baby and sacrifice him in Phillip's unheavenly name. There had been but one condition, and it was that Samuel would be taken while under the watch of Thomasin, the eldest child.
For it was truly Thomasin that was the prize to be won in the end. The girl was at the age when her womanhood began to take form, making her more than ripe for indoctrination into Black Phillip's coven. Preying and feeding on God's flock was always a pleasure, but to take one and make it his own, that was where Black Phillip's true passion lied. Just as he had been barred from the kingdom above, so would he lead others astray and into his open arms, denying their creator the satisfaction of seeing them return.
And now, he was so close. He could feel it, with both Samuel and now Caleb taken from them, the family had unknowingly ostracized Thomasin from the fold, and all that remained was to dispose of the rest.
No…
Something was wrong.
Black Phillip could feel it on the wind. Caleb was supposed to be taken. A dark daughter was to captivate him by preying on his growing attractions, and yet, he was getting closer. In the form of a goat, Black Phillip raised his head and gazed to the tree line.
Yes, there was no mistaking it now. Caleb was returning to the farm, completely unharmed. And heralding his return was an aura of something incredibly powerful, something unknown, and yet, eerily familiar to Black Phillip's senses. Its incorruptible form was not yet in sight, but Black Phillip knew that it was strong enough to see through his disguise, and so he turned away into the woods, as he could not drive off this new arrival without revealing his true nature to the family. He would deal with this creature, but in due time.
…
VEGA immediately noted a powerful signature disappearing into the forest as they cleared the tree line. The readings indicated a being far stronger than the witches that he had been tracking, and upon further analysis, VEGA noted that their life signs were actually similar to each other, a subject that he devoted some of his processing power to exploring further.
Simultaneously, the A.I. examined the farm that came into view. A small field of corn grew next to a ramshackle farmhouse, and VEGA's scans discerned residual signs of the supernatural from the corn, as though it had been tampered with. The stalks looked malnourished and weak, and VEGA hypothesized that the lingering wisps of energy had something to do with the rot that plagued them.
As the Slayer drew closer with the boy over his shoulder, the door to the farmhouse opened wide, and a tall man and what was presumably his wife emerged, their faces wary yet hopeful as the Slayer approached them.
In addition to the couple, VEGA took note of three more individuals peeking out from the doorway. A pair of young children and one older girl, likely in her late teenage years, stared wide-eyed at the Slayer's armored figure.
Their clothing was congruent with the time period that VEGA had deduced, and though recognition dawned on their faces at the form slumped over the Slayer's shoulder, they were wary to approach. A reaction that VEGA considered appropriate, as they likely did not know what to make of the Slayer's otherworldly appearance.
It was only when the Slayer reached them and deposited the unconscious child into their arms that their eyes left his strange form.
"Caleb? Caleb?!" the woman frantically asked, grasping the sides of the boy's face in the hope of waking him. Bloodstains stood prominently upon his face and clothing, causing both parents to panic for a moment.
The man searched Caleb for any sign of injury but found none. After a sigh of relief, his gaze then turned to the Slayer, a frown of distrust now in the place of shock.
"What transpired? What hast befallen my son?!" he asked in what VEGA noted as an old English dialect.
VEGA recalled the events of how they had found the child to the two of them, and the mother and father's eyes widened in horror at the mention of the witch they had encountered.
"Tis witchcraft what ails him?!" the woman all but wailed, her words causing clear unrest to the children listening in the doorway.
"He is unharmed," VEGA assured them. "He will likely awaken soon."
"Oh William!" the woman cried, looking to her husband for answers. "What will we do?! This land has left us accursed!"
"If I may," VEGA said calmly. "I would recommend that you hunker down indoors until morning, as it will be safe then."
"And how so?" William asked. His eyes searching for any sense of humanity behind the Slayer's faceplate. "Wouldst you have us forever hunkered like feebled mice every night in the hope that witches do not away with our children before dawn?"
"By morning, I am confident that there will be no witches remaining to do so, as we will likely have exterminated them all by then."
VEGA's blunt answer caught them both off guard, but William's eyes still showed hints of distrust.
"And just what assurance canst you provide to aid such fanciful claims?"
VEGA did not respond, as he knew the Doom Slayer was much more fit to answer that question.
Moving to the wood pile where the chopping block sat, the Doom Slayer hefted a large log in one hand with ease. VEGA estimated the weight of the log at no less than thirty kilograms, though it looked as though it was made of paper in the Slayer's ease of grip. And as the family watched, the armored man grasped the log in both hands and ripped it in two down the middle with a loud crack, the wood almost too eagerly yielding to his strength.
The family stood in awe for a moment, frozen at the Slayer's feat. Then William spoke in a low voice and gently handed Caleb's form to Katherine.
"Inside, Katherine. Take the children with thee."
She looked at him questioningly, but William urged her with a hard glare, and she quickly turned to the farmhouse, ushering the children inside and closing the door behind her.
The clearing fell silent in the dark, and William gave the Doom Slayer a long and hard look before speaking.
"I know not the nature of your fortitude," he said with a continuing air of suspicion. "You have returned mine own flesh and blood to me, but how wouldst I be certain that I be not in the devil's present company?"
VEGA understood the man's reasoning. Seeing something as mysterious and powerful as the Doom Slayer in a time period such as this…The heightened superstitions of the era made satanic ties an easy explanation so the otherwise unexplainable. The man's spiritual fortitude had already been shaken by the mere presence of the Slayer, and basic human psychology stated that it was natural for him to double down on his beliefs.
"I am afraid that we do not have time to explain our nature to you," VEGA said courteously. "But to answer your question in short: You cannot. I can offer no reassurance that we are your allies, but your trust in us is not necessary to the success of our mission."
The answer did little to put William at ease, as VEGA anticipated, but he continued all the same.
"Regardless of your disposition, it still remains in your best interest to stay inside and protect your family until morning comes."
William gave a small grunt, but relented, walking back towards the farmhouse while keeping an eye on the Doom Slayer the whole time. The Slayer leveled his gaze as well until the door latched shut behind the man, then turned back towards the forest. The interior temperature of the Praetor Suit began to rise once more with anticipation, and VEGA immediately began to provide directions, as he had already homed in on at least three signatures nearby.
"I have marked the location of the closest witches on your HUD. I believe they are aware of our presence."
The life signs had grown more erratic since VEGA had first begun tracking them, signifying some sort of unrest likely tied to the arrival of the Slayer.
That mattered little however, and as the Slayer started into the woods, the signature metallic crunch of a shotgun being pumped echoed through the trees.
…
Thomasin gingerly dabbed at Caleb's face with a dampened cloth, her eyes telling of her concern for her brother's health. At least the lad looked at peace in this state. Jonas and Mercy sat nearby, the twins periodically looking from Caleb's sleeping form to Thomasin and back again, their childlike curiosity piqued. The elder girl could not blame them, as she too had seen many unexplainable things over the past hour.
At the very least, the two youngest no longer seemed convinced that Thomasin was a witch, as the arrival of the strange man had faltered their misplaced convictions.
Who was that man? That strange being in strange attire that appeared from the woods with Caleb in arm? His strange voice that spoke like hollow metal and leveled such a strange tongue? And his tales of finding Caleb in the clutches of a witch?! Couldst there be truth to his words? Be there truly witches what resided in this forest?
Unbidden, Thomasin's thoughts drifted to that of Samuel, and how the baby had been taken from them as if by magic. Couldst it really be witchcraft what saw him away?
Thomasin looked over to her parents, who spoke in rapid albeit hushed tones in the corner. Despite their efforts to secrecy, Thomasin heard the nature of their conversation as though it were whispered to her ear:
"Witches, William! Witches! Dost thou disbelieve now that this land is cursed?"
"Peace, Katherine, lest the children hear thee!"
"Just what is to left hide, William? God himself heard what how Caleb was found!"
"We know not the truth of the man's nature, Katherine, lest he be in league with Satan."
"It matters not, William! Cursed by witches or by the devil? Are we just to settle with the lesser of the two?!"
"We must wait, hold until morning, Katherine. With the coming dawn's light, so too will answers find us."
"And if we are not to survive until then?!"
"Peace!"
Suddenly, Caleb's form stirred, his head shifting ever so slightly on the pillow and a soft mumble escaping from his mouth. Both Katherine and William snapped their heads to him at that moment, the well-being of their son overriding the conversation in a heartbeat.
"Caleb!"
The boy slowly opened his eyes and took in a breath before immediately having a small coughing fit.
"Steady now…" Thomasin urged softly as she propped his head up on her lap and held a cup of water to his lips. "Drink slowly."
Caleb croaked once before sipping lightly on the cool liquid, his breathing slowly returning to a more relaxed pace.
"Caleb…"
Both Katherine and William knelt close as he took in his surroundings, and he visibly relaxed when he saw that he was back at the farmhouse. Both Katherine and William gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Art thou well? Prithee tell us what transpired?"
"I… we…" Caleb's eyes darted to Thomasin, and she sensed his apprehension to tell of why they'd ventured to the wood.
"We went thither to the wood," she said, knowing the shame that Caleb likely felt. "Caleb wished imbue pride upon ye both by way of fresh game, but we two were separated when chasing after a hare. I was knocked unconscious and awoke to the sound of thee calling my name, father."
Both William and Katherine gazed at her, processing her tale in silence. Thomasin took a breath.
"Tis all I know—"
"The hare…"
All eyes turned to Caleb as he spoke up, silence holding fast in the farmhouse.
"I tracked it deeper, but something…some creature…darker than the Devil…it…Fowler…"
Tears began to well up in Caleb's eyes, the memory obviously traumatizing him a great deal. His hands clenched at his sides, and Thomasin gently stroked his hair in an effort to calm him. He waited for a few moments, then spoke more once he had his breathing under control.
"A woman was thither also, feigning youth before my eyes. The horrid monster…it…"
Caleb shook his head refusing to elaborate further, but there was no need too, the others understood what he left unsaid.
"But then," Caleb said, his posture suddenly straightening at a new memory. "I found myself saved. Twas divine intervention what held back the dark! An angel of God adorned in white brilliance drove it away! The beast was rended to dust by His will!"
Thomasin shared a glance with her parents, then turned back to Caleb.
"Dost thou know who found thee, Caleb? How thou wast returned hither?"
"No…I…remember naught past that…" Caleb said. At his side, William frowned.
"This angel, Caleb. Didst thou gaze upon its face? What canst thou say to its form?"
"Naught but its divine glow," Caleb replied with a shake of his head. "It bore itself in man's image, but I could see no more than its divine brilliance."
"And the vile creature of the abyss? What became of it?"
"The divine herald overwhelmed it!" Caleb said with the excitement that came with telling such a story. "The angel's strength exceeded that of ten men! There be no greater sight to behold!"
William and Katherine looked at each other contemplatively for a moment, and though not a word was said, Thomasin knew their thoughts.
This divine angel that Caleb spoke of… and the man what delivered him here…perhaps they were not separate…?
Caleb seemed to notice the frowns on their faces.
"What? What is it?" he asked curiously.
"We've met your angel, Caleb!" Mercy spoke up for the first time, jumping up from where she sat next to Jonas. "But he bore no white brilliance, only a scary green suit!"
"Tell no untruths, Mercy," Katherine scorned. "We know it not if they be one in the same."
"They are!" Jonas said, jumping up enthusiastically with his twin. "Didst thou not hear his story? The strength of ten men! Tis the same for the strange form what came hither!"
"Peace, the both!" William said. The twins obeyed and fell silent, but Thomasin could tell that even their father was uncertain as well. Caleb's description of the angel's strength, it matched that of the stranger whence he had torn the log with naught but his gauntlets. And if he now was hunting the witches that plagued this wood…
…may Christ see it fit that they are shown mercy in death, as it was certain they would not be given it in life.
…
The witch's screeching was swiftly stifled as the Slayer's boot crushed her head, her body falling still save for a few slight twitches. That had been the fourth now, with her being the quickest kill of the night so far. The Doom Slayer was learning their methods and the extent of their power at a rate only he could achieve, and he was becoming more and more efficient at hunting them as a result. Their speed and agility exceeded that of any human by far, but it mattered not. The Slayer was stronger and faster, yes, but these witches lacked experience. Their methods were not suited to attacking an enemy that knew they were there, making their moves predictable and also making them hesitate. And to hesitate in battle meant death, with the four dead witches up to this point acting as a shining example.
As with all the others, the Slayer quickly found her dwelling and deposited her corpse inside before setting it ablaze. The headless corpse writhed as the flames melted her skin and bleached her bones, but like her sisters, she fell still after a few moments. The Slayer watched this occur, then turned his attention to the forest once more.
"My sensors indicate that there are two witches remaining," VEGA reported. "The stronger force from before is also nearby. At the current moment, the two remaining witches appear to be fleeing. I would suggest cutting off their retreat."
The Slayer agreed, raising his plasma rifle and taking aim at a few very flammable-looking trees.
…
Black Phillip felt the souls of his coven depart the mortal realm as they died, each one making its way to the pit that awaited all that pledged themselves to him. Their purpose on Earth was now complete, but Phillip would make good use of them in the time to come.
But for now, he must deal with the contender that was causing those souls to depart. Whatever it was, it had proven itself relentless in its crusade, and had slaughtered all but two of his daughters in this wood. Each of them had been acquired by Phillip through careful planning and deception, and yet this meddler was disposing of them all in under the course of an hour. It was time to put an end to this obtrusion, and now that the family was not near, Phillip could do what needed to be done.
The wind shifted as Phillip began to discard the façade of a common goat. He rose from four legs to two, his bottom half keeping its goatly appearance while the upper body morphed into that of an endowed man. His body grew larger as it changed, soon towering over that of a mere human and growing further still. Two hooves remained in the place of feet, though they had grown beyond the hoof size of any animal on Earth. The horns remained as well, though they had grown in proportion with everything else, and a second set now also protruded from Phillip's now beast-like forehead. Though most of his upper appearance took on that of a man, his skin turned into a deep red hue, marking the end of his transformation into his true form. Standing in his massive and greatly destructive glory, Black Phillip unleashed a guttural roar that echoed throughout the trees and caused the ground to nearly shake in response.
…
The Slayer heard the roar reverberate through the woods around him as the final witch choked within his grasp. For a moment, his prey was monetarily forgotten, and he turned his heard towards the sound to listen. Nothing followed, so the Slayer quickly dispatched the witch and tossed her into the blaze, which had grown into a considerable forest fire since he had started it. The blaze had served its purpose well, cutting the witches off from their escape route and back into the Slayer's clutches, and he had made short work of them as a result.
Inside his helmet, VEGA spoke once more.
"The stronger force from before is approaching from the north. It appears to be unperturbed by the heat."
VEGA was correct, as the fire raged forcefully in the north, and yet over the roar of the blaze, the sounds of trees and brush being crushed underfoot could be heard, crescendoing louder and louder. The noise peaked as a massive beast burst from the enflamed trees, its hulking form standing at nearly five meters tall. Immediately, both VEGA and the Slayer classified it as a demon, as its lower body was that of a goat while everything above the waist was that of a man. The only exception was its head, as the face of the dark beast angrily sized them up. Rows of sharpened teeth bore themselves to the Slayer, and two sets of twisted horns sprouted towards the air above. Jet-black eyes lingered on the Slayer' form, and suddenly, recognition mixed with a small amount of apprehension dawned on the monster's face.
"It can't be…You've never departed from the seventh circle before…"
Its voice was deep and layered with the sounds of evil, and a lesser man would have collapsed to the ground at the mere tone of it and pleaded for mercy, but the Slayer said nothing, only cracking his knuckles as the demon continued to speak.
"There were whispers of your absence. And yet here now you stand in a realm far beyond your own…"
The demon growled; the sound akin to that of concrete grinding against itself.
"No matter. The denizens of the Umbral Plains are weak. I am not. Your struggle ends here, Slayer."
As though a switch had been flipped, the Slayer was suddenly airborne, closing the distance between them and firing a volley of rounds from his assault rifle. The demon reacted and covered itself with its massive arms, the rounds sparking as they failed to pierce its hardened skin.
With impressive speed, the demon lunged, striking with a massive fist at the still airborne Slayer, who crossed his arms in front of himself to absorb the blow. The first connected hard, and the Slayer's form shot backward, completely shattering through the trunks of trees unfortunate enough to be in the way.
The demon was powerful, possessing the strength of the brutal tyrants that the Slayer knew while still possessing otherworldly speed and agility. Its hardened skin was also an obstacle, but one the Slayer intended to remove.
Twisting in midair, the Slayer drew his gauss cannon and fired a round in the direction of his flight. The recoil from the weapon slowed him considerably, and he landed squarely on his feet and skidded to a stop. He had flown far enough that the forest fire obstructed his view of the demon, but its vitals still registered on his P.K.E. scanner. VEGA spoke up.
"This demon does not match any species found within my database, and yet, it appears to be familiar with you. I believe it may be unique, or perhaps from a region of Hell yet undiscovered."
Unique or not, the Slayer's plan remained the same.
…
Black Phillip's demonic features twisted into a vile grin as the Slayer had yet to remerge from the flames. His strike had been clean and powerful, and the Slayer's small frame and mass had put up little resistance.
This was the creature that had scoured the realm of the Umbral Lords for so long? Phillip released a foul chuckle, the sound like that of a rockslide. That specific realm of Hell was long considered nigh unconquerable, as the horde that populated those lands was vast and plenty. To establish dominion was an impossible challenge that the wicked lords of other realms dared not attempt. Phillip himself held dominion over a realm of his own, but it was small and weak in fortitude when compared to that of the Umbral Plains. And yet, there were always whispers of the entity that became known as the Doom Slayer. Testament from couriers betwixt realms revealed his profile and nature to those unfamiliar, but he quickly was dismissed as a myth among those who heard the tale, for nothing, and certainly no one creature, could plague a realm so unforgiving as the Umbral Plains.
These tales were certainly falsehoods, as Black Phillip could see now that the Slayer was indeed weak. Had he been killed just now by that single blow? Phillip chuckled once more at the thought, his demonic maw curling into a sneer. Perhaps the Umbral Plains were not such an unattainable prize after all. If their dark lords were wrought with strife by the hand of such a weak and feeble creature, then perhaps Phillip would see fit to—
A bright red beam of light burst from the flames and struck Phillip directly on his left shoulder, and he roared from the force behind the impact and the pain that it delivered. Looking down, Phillip saw a rod of hardened metal buried halfway into his flesh. It had carried enough momentum to pierce his hardened skin, but it was the sight of the immediate area around it that filled the demon with terror.
His hardened skin had begun to decay, an orangish-red glow spreading outward from where the rod was buried and turning the carapace to a fine ash. Phillip bellowed and wrenched the rod from his shoulder, but the decay continued, only slowing to a stop once most of his shoulder and upper arm were afflicted. The skin was all but gone, showcasing the soft and vulnerable tissue beneath.
Phillip's gaze lingered on the wound, horror turning to rage as he snarled and looked to the source of the shot. From the wall of fire before him, the Slayer emerged, completely unharmed and now inexplicably angry. An unfamiliar weapon sat ready in his hands, and Black Phillip's eyes narrowed.
"Dogged charlatan," he spat. "Your fate is sealed."
His voice was cut off as the weapon kicked in the Slayer's hands, its aim directly on Phillip's forehead. The demon had been able to save himself from certain death by dodging to the side, but the red beam grazed the left side of his face as he jerked, shattering a few of his grotesque teeth and cracking the skin. As with before, decay began to spread, and Phillip bellowed in pain as it began to consume his face and head. The eye closest to the wound began to gray, and Phillip lost sight in it a moment later. It was only then that Black Phillip realized the mistake he had made. He had underestimated the power the Slayer controlled and had chided him on his weakness. And now he would pay dearly for it. What was done was done, and there was now no going back from inducing the Slayer's wrath.
Desperation sinking in, Phillip turned and fled, crashing through the burning foliage haphazardly in an attempt to put as much distance as he could between himself and the Slayer. The side of his face continued to burn, and Phillip raised a clawed hand to his maw in an attempt to stop the spread of the decay. He needed to get out, to survive, to escape somehow. Knowing what was pursuing him, however, that flicker of hope was quickly dwindling.
…
Thomasin could see the glow of the forest fire through the window of the farmhouse. It had not grown close enough to threaten the farmhouse yet, but William maintained watch at the window lest he be needed to battle the blaze with pail in hand.
Caleb had quickly regained his strength after waking, and Katherine currently held him close by the fire in the hearth. Jonas and Mercy sat close by as well. Thomasin could see the fear in her mother's eyes, in all of their eyes. The prospect of their farm being plagued of a witch had finally been given the chance to settle in all of their minds, and Thomasin's own thoughts leveled on thing in particular.
It had been a witch all along what stole Samuel. She'd not taken her eyes away from him for longer than a few seconds, and yet he'd vanished without a trace in that short time. There was no wolf on Earth capable of stealing him so soundly, which left but one thing that could have accomplished it.
For so long had Thomasin felt the shame of Samuel's disappearance. It had been as though a wedge had been driven between her and the family since that day, as much as they would deny it, she knew they couldn't help but be wary of her. It tore her apart to witness, and she had even begun to hate herself as well as a result. As to be expected, the worst had come from her own mother, as a dark shade had yet to leave Katherine's eye since Samuel had been taken.
With a brief glance, Thomasin looked to Katherine holding Caleb close, and her mother lifted her gaze to her as well, and after a brief moment of contemplation, Katherine turned to Caleb.
"Art thou well, Caleb? Canst thou stand?"
Caleb nodded resolutely, and slowly rose to his feet from his mother's lap. He stood shakily for a moment, then regained his equilibrium and walked over to join William at the window, his pace becoming more confident with every stride. William nodded in greeting and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder as they watched the blaze from the window. The smell of smoke had become strong now, for the farmhouse had no glass in the windows.
"Thomasin, come hither."
The girl looked back to her mother and saw her holding her arms outward in a show of warmth that Thomasin had not received from her in a long time. She slowly rose from where she sat, her movements careful and deliberate, as though one false move would banish the warmth her mother was giving.
Katherine reached up and took Thomasin's hands in her own, holding them in a firm and honest grip.
"I would beg thy forgiveness, child," Katherine said, her voice wavering and her eyes filling with tears. "For too long I'd misplaced my grievances. I did let the Devil in me and shot my anger towards thee unjustly. I'd been a fool to believe that thou…"
Katherine bit her lip, pausing for a brief moment to compose herself. All was silent in the farmhouse save for the distant fire, but Thomasin didn't care that the others heard, she hung tightly to every word that Katherine said. The healing of her spirit from her mother's confession far exceeded that of any medicine.
"I know not that we will see the sun rise in the morn, but thou must know that I love thee and wilt forever until the end of days. Thou have given naught but all thy love to me, and I will no longer cast it aside like the wretch I have been!"
Katherine's resolve then broke, and she bowed her head and wept with her hands still clinging to Thomasin's. It was all the girl could take as well, and she collapsed to her mother's level, wrapping her arms tightly around Katherine, who grasped at her in return.
It mattered not should a witch or devil take them now, for Thomasin was at last at peace. Her mother's love had been returned to her, and she felt tears beginning to form in her eyes as well as the world began to right itself once more.
The moment ended quickly, however, as a thunderous boom sounded from outside. Thomasin shared a gaze with her mother, then they both turned to William and Caleb, who were now staring intently out the window. Carefully, the family congregated at the portal, the fire's haze now very close and illuminating everything in its hellacious glow.
…
Black Phillip could no longer see where he was going, as the decay had completely consumed his left eye and partially destroyed his right. All that was left of his vision was a blurred haze of red and orange as he crashed through the trees. Wounds peppered his form, most incurred on his back as the Doom Slayer had continued to fire upon him as he fled. The pain coursed through Black Phillip's form, but he did not dare slow down. He had to keep running. He had to survive.
Something exploded against his back, and Phillip bellowed in pain and tumbled to the ground. He landed hard on the forest floor, and pain anew shot through his demonic form as the dirt harshly met his wounds.
He struggled to stand, to crawl, to do anything, but he could not move. His back had been broken, and any attempts he made to rise were in vain. He roared and snarled, but it mattered not. Through his blurred vision, Black Phillip saw a silhouette appear through the fog, walking with predatory intent.
This was the end. Black Phillip knew it to be true. The form reached him quickly and stood over his prone figure, a new weapon of unknown make pointing down at the spot between his eyes. Through ragged breaths, Black Phillip growled and spoke.
"You are finite. You are cursed. Mark my words, Slayer, you cannot keep the path you have chosen forever. Someday, you will meet your end, and your soul will be cast to the darkest and most vile pits, never to—"
Black Phillip's head exploded in a bloody scourge, his demonic form going limp in the dirt. All fell silent save for the roaring of the fire all around, then the Doom Slayer lowered his super shotgun.
Looking up, he saw that Black Phillip had unknowingly fled back to the farmhouse. They had not arrived in the clearing just yet, however, leaving both him and the now headless demon obstructed from the family's view.
"That marks the successful termination of all known supernatural beings in the area," VEGA confirmed inside his helmet. "I would recommend disposing of the corpse, however, as the sight may prove too much for the family to fully comprehend."
The Slayer stood silent for a moment, then reached down and plucked a fragment of Black Phillip's horn from the corpse. Tucking it away, the armored man then hefted the demon's body into the nearest blaze, watching intently as the evidence of their encounter burned away. He then turned and walked back into the clearing, the entire family watching him approach from the window of the farmhouse.
…
Thomasin anxiously dismounted the cart as they arrived at the walls of the plantation. She recognized some familiar faces from the top of the wall, and they in turn looked down upon the family with curiosity.
The armored man had emerged from the forest last night, the telltale signs of battle showing on his armor, and yet he was somehow completely unharmed. His hollow voice had informed that all witches were dead and burned. The family had little time to feel relief at the news, however, as they were then informed that a demon had been slaughtered as well. The armored man produced a wicked horn to prove of its nature, its size and constitution far to great and vile to be of anything but a creature of Hell.
The mention of the demon struck panic throughout the household, and it was then that William had made a resolute decision. They would return to the plantation as soon as possible, and he would swallow his pride and beg for forgiveness from the council, stating that he'd crawl on his knees a million times before them before he'd let his family stay in these accursed woods. The family had been surprised by his sudden change of heart, but the thought alone that he had brought them to this demon-filled land from the beginning had been more than enough cause for his remorse.
The journey would be difficult, as the plantation was a journey of three days' time by foot, and they would be burdened by the load of their things. It was then that the armored man offered to assist, and by dawn, the family had loaded the cart and struck off for the plantation with the armored man pulling them along with his herculean strength.
With horse, the journey was shortened roughly to that of a day and a half, but the armored man did not tire nor need refreshment, and so they rode hard through most of the day and had arrived back at the plantation by dusk.
A quick word to the militiamen on the wall bid them fetch the council, and while they awaited word, William turned to the armored man.
"I know not who you are, or from whence you came," William said, holding forth his hand to the man. "but I would shudder to think what foul discord would befall us without your aid. You hath saved my family, and there is no measure as to the vastness of my gratitude."
The strange man said nothing but took William's outstretched hand and shook it firmly. They shared a nod, then the stranger turned and marched back into the wood, leaving the family behind.
Thomasin watched as he took his leave, a genuine smile making its way onto her face for what had seemed like forever. Perhaps that man really was an angel. He did not appear robed with wings of light, but all of his deeds, he may as well have been.
As the gates opened to the settlement to allow them entrance, Thomasin looked over her shoulder one last time in the hope of catching a glimpse of the stranger before he entered the tree line. Disappointedly, she saw nothing save for the wilderness that had tormented her family for so long, though as she turned back, her eye caught a faint flash of blue light among the trees. She followed in the hope of seeing what had caused the flash, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.
...
A/N: What did you folks think? I obviously cannot speak to your reactions, but I must say that writing this chapter felt weirdly off somehow. I cannot tell if that is good or bad, but as I wrote this chapter and the interactions between the characters, it just felt really...different. It could be that I took a bit of literary liberty with Black Phillip's origin, or it could be that I cannot write Old English dialogue if my life depended it, I'm just not sure. That being said, I'm always interested to hear the reader's perspective, and would love any praise, ridicule, or indifference to how the chapter turned out. I have already got the next chapter in the works, so hopefully I can pump it out in a timely manner for you all in the upcoming weeks! Until next time!
-ImpulsiveWeaver