Chapter 1: Fallen Star / Rising darkness
The striking of boots resonated throughout the fortress. Thick footsteps splattered red and black, leaving behind a trail of wicked blood. He had won, the battle was over. The natural blue light of Earth gave him a sense of satisfaction. An Earth without the plague of red pentagrams that stretched from Africa to Europe, without the invasion of hell creatures.
Samuel Hayden on the other hand, was dormant. The Slayer strolled up to the mechanical torso and tapped the hard shell. Still no reaction. This was a last ditch effort to be smug. Right? The Slayer jabbed Samuel a little harder.
He was only given the silent treatment.
First of all the state of Samuel's body was his own fault, not the Slayer's. Hayden's idea of "progress" left him without an arm and his two legs. The Slayer turned his heel. Fine be like that, but it was the Slayer who truly won, he was the one who inevitably saved Earth not Samuel.
The Slayer left him to hover.
Flashes of color ran across the Slayers face.
(*Timmy, "Good afternoon! We're so excited to have you here! ...have you here!
Let us be the first to congratulate you on your wise decision to sign up for this adventure. Welcome...to the check-in counter for your Deserted Island Getaway Package!")
Thank god Japan didn't get it too hard..
(Think of us as your partners. We're in it for the long haul! So, let's get started, shall we?...Can we have your name and birthday?...Birthday?)
A keyboard popped up. "Hell Walker" was typed on the brown keyboards and random numbers for his birthday.
(*Timmy, "Hell Walker...Hell Walker...Let's see…") The black eyeliner squirrels nodded
("Oh! Yes, Here you are! Our next step will be to take a picture of you, Hell walker..")
The Slayer wrestled control with the dark figure, his grip made sure that it would not escape this time. From the depths of the river sprung out a flying fish, exhausted it fell into the Hell Walker's hand. The in game character thrust it for view.
(Yes! I caught a dace! Hope I have some space!)
The Slayer deadpanned...oh it's because dace rhymes with space and that's why it's so funny-
And like a horrible magic trick the world was gone, leaving him staring at his own stupid face. The lack of light left him in a somewhat dark room, and violently shaking the computer wasn't really helpful. The thrashing was all but in vain, his little world did not return, a simplistic world of talking animals and crippling debt. Getting off his ass, he groped for his armor. His breastplate, helmet, gloves, boots, pants, shotgun...yeah that's everything. He firmly pushed his helmet down.
Wait wasn't there a flashlight around here? His hands pushing aside the rabbit food, felt the familiar shape of the tool. Ah Gotcha!
He lighted his way up the stairs. Loading the gun was a cumbersome task when his other hand held on to the flashlight. Resting it on his leg, to think that the flashlight might fall sent chills up his spine. It didn't come cheap.
His head rose from the lower level, holding his shotgun close to his chest, the main control room looked empty. Bringing out a suit grenade, he aimed at Samuel, chucking it. The Slayer's hopes of signaling Hayden lead him to disappointment. The incredibly dangerous explosive device simply bounced off of the robot with a CLANK! Slayer was starting to think that Samuel wasn't just acting immature.
A soft glow caught the Slayer's attention, walking down from Samuel, the light belonged to one of the monitors. Where A.R.C broadcasts spread information about the resistance. His hand pressed against the screen.
(THIS IS THE RESISTANCE NETWORK, IN WHAT WILL HOPEFULLY BE OUR FINAL BROadCA-St. tO-peOP- demo-nic horddddddd-)
The normal broadcast that had started out loud and clear, spiraled down to a garbling mess. Yet from the static came a soft tempo of upbeat music. He put his ear closer to the speakers, it had a heroic feel to it. Childish yet fun to listen to, like an old arcade game, continuous looping.
Vastly different from the sharp blasts that he was used to, it was cool nonetheless. Whirring and clicks, he looked to his right to see the middle staircase being brought to life. Strangely without his consent. Lightning of pink, green and purple pulsed the portal to life. Swaying left and right, it rippled like water. A change of gravity overtook the Slayer, the portal sucking him in, his feet went midair in the portal's will. Sideways he felt his fingers slide from the monitor, his grip loosened.
Ah shit here we go again.
Flashes of pink and green beat the Slayer's face, tunneling through the twisting portal was about to make him either vomit or have a good seizure. Sweating and breathing heavily, he put his hands over his eyes. The whistling in his ears died down, peeking through his fingers he saw that he was no longer being thrown around like a beach ball. In front of him was a dirty. stone. wall. The Slayer lowered his guard for a moment, only to fall through the world.
The snapping of wood and screaming immediately followed. Which did not reassure his concerns.
The dust settled and the Slayer looked around. He must've fallen into one of those weird fun houses where everything is small and messed with your mind, because either he's grown or everything has shrunk. To be honest it definitely was a beautiful room, exotic red wood, gold linings colored the walls, oh and also the body of a woman.
Wait that wasn't right.
A moan reached up to the Slayer's ears, bending his body he saw clothes of blue and green of what was left. The only evidence of the poor man, the Slayer cringed. Wait where was his shotgun? WHERE WAS HI- oh never mind he was holding it. The Slayer mentally slapped himself, what the hell is wrong with you today? Huh? Goddamn it!
His hands fell for a door, the handle was small but it was enough for him to push open. He fell out like a newborn, face-planting on the ground. The Slayer was sick of people shoving him around but this was taking the cake, the whole universe is just fucken with him
Wait..he looked back to where he fell out, with new eyes he had realized that it was in fact a carriage he fell in. Not a room, two oblivious horses stood straight, waiting for their master to continue the journey. But their master was gone, likely ran away from the chaos.
Someone yelled and before he knew it, his pupils dilated and tossed his right arm. Countering the sword that was meant to pierce him. Closing in on his assailant, their bodies intertwined. The Slayer using his left foot to quickly trip the man, in effect threw him down into the ground. Pinning him.
Rocketing adrenaline he focused on the unknown man-oh shit.
Groaning from the ground was a man in red clothes and grey armor, he was probably just a guard, and if he was a guard then that means he was guarding something, and seeing the carriage from where he originated.
Not even an hour in and he's already a criminal. Great.
He drove his fist against the man's stomach. Yelling out he doubled over to clutch himself. The Slayer rose from the mess to see a somewhat dirty kid stand with mouth agape. The Slayer couldn't tell who was the one in headlights but he waved regardless, in sign of good faith. The kid spun like a top and ran.
The lack of people in the stone road was apparent, like a flashlight over roaches, skittering back into safety.
The Slayer put his feet to use and bolted.
He didn't really think about the where's and the why's until he reached the town square. That's when the world really opened up to him, it blossomed with people. Red, yellow and blue, littering in the tents of brown. Women sewed, men wandered and children ran, the Slayer took a moment to look at all of it.
Cracking his neck, he prepared for the most difficult task before him. SOCIALIZING. He spotted a woman in her 30's, behind a tabletop, looking bored and tiresome. Over her back were drapes of billowing towels and clothes. This looks like a person he should talk to, like a shark in dark waters the Slayer swam through the thick bodies.
The woman in turn was a dressmaker, she wasn't really raking in customers today and frankly she was starting to get a bit disappointed. But when seeing the large, somewhat suspicious man, coming her way she made the littlest effort to look at least presentable.
"What cha want? We got clothes, bed sheets, wool and cloaks or do ya want some hangers?" she asked with clear impatience. The Slayer shrugged and pointed at himself, then drew an arrow in the air, implicating that he needed a direction. The woman frowned and spit on the ground. "Iz this sum kinda joke? you're not from around here are you? So I best advise that you don't play those games with em other people here. They've been treaten people like cattle ever since the night creatures showed up and ya don't want to piss em off."
The Slayer's head perked up, night creatures? Like demons? Or monsters? The Slayer was now leaning against the table, increasing her suspicions. She growled defensively, "Hey! Stop! What the fuck are you doing?" the Slayer felt the people's gaze on him, be cool, be cool, he was just leaving.
The Slayer rushed off and hid himself back into the shadows of the citizens. Wow that was terrible, but now all he needed to do was to find a "night creature" and see if it really is one of the demons he was used to. Find the demonic source and go home.
Wading through the crowd he slammed to a halt, he recognized that smell, sulfuric, sour with a taste of iron. Light as a feather but definitely there, as if in a trance he tracked down the hellish product.
A man in thin yellow and an abundance of blue stood behind a wooden table, inside the beige tent was an assortment of bottles, furs, bones, glass and jewels. the trader was conversing with another, smaller woman. She seemed satisfied and nodded, taking a small blue potion. The Slayer strolled up to the open shop. The merchant looked up.
He wore wooden spectacles and a brim hat of brown, he looked pretty old. His grey hair frazzled over his ears, to not blind him. In general he looked kind of silly but the Slayer found him kind of charming.
"Ay-what can i do ya for?" he spoke with a thick accent, the Slayer stood silently. The merchant was slightly taken aback from the sight of the Slayer, his queer armor glinted and the face guard reflected the merchants face. The merchant's hand rose in the form of an invitation yet the Slayer stood unstirred. The merchant smiled humorously, pushing the primitive glasses back in place.
"Silent type huh? Alright i'll do the talking, you want clothes? Fur or jewels?" he gestured at his shop, "just got about everythun- healing potions, weapons, food and more". The Slayer searched for the source, and thrust his finger at a dangling figure, it's dark leathery skin glittered yet its face was hidden in the darkness.
"This? This right here is just a decor my friend, but you're free to take a closer look" the merchant opened the swing door and the Slayer took a broad step inside. A closer look at the creature and the Slayer was thankful that the merchant let him inspect it. It was riddled in detail, long deep scars ran down its back, one of its eyes popped out. It fought like hell before its life ended, that was for sure. Keeping its fierce look of animalistic hatred. Cautious the Slayer took a closer look at the claws. Specks of dried blood littered the surface of the "hand" and the talons were sharp. The body was huge and full of flesh, parts torn off and it was obvious to see that the merchant attempted to hide them with other skins.
"This! This is from one of Dracula's own creations, the night creature! Straight out of the city walls! This is one of the rare few that wasn't torn apart by our most gracious soldiers. And they let me keep it! This is a one of a kind ya know, not many un who fights these things makes it out alive"
The Slayer's palm ran over the surface area of the beast, it had a tough exterior but he bet that the insides would be soft and squishy. He could just imagine how this thing would run, leap and kill.
"Uh-can ya kindly move away from the product?" the merchant said quizzically. The Slayer had never seen this kind of demon before, memorizing it and already embedding info into his head. Turning he nodded to the man with silent appreciation and left. Leaving a dumbfounded shopkeeper, "Din't even buy Nothin!" the trader said, peeved.
Pushing out the swing door, he knew he was already surrounded. 5 guards in total put themselves in a defensive position around the Slayer, their spears shining and flashing. Which wasn't really good for his eyes.
A well dressed man entered the ring with a confident stride, he bore the same red as the others but bore a silver medallion. The Slayer could tell that he was different from the others, he was round, plump, and his face was red as a tomato, he grinned with confidence at the Slayer with yellow teeth.
"Oh what's this? assassin of Lord Williams in't even putten up a fight eh?" the fat man laughed jovially, disturbing the Slayer.
"Usually...i'd flay yus fucken doxy's like it was Easter ….Buuuut i never like's that cunt anyway, so i'm gonna go easy on yus."
Then the fat man cleared his throat with all the sense of formal authority he could muster.
"You, Whomever you are, are under arrest for conspiracy and blah blah blah get it? Short story, Yus comming with us" dissolving the situation with a wave of his hand, the surrounding guards marched forward.
This guy looks trustworthy.
But falling onto the cold floor of the prison cell was starting to brew doubts about his statement. And hearing the door behind him slam shut with a CLANG!, made him think that they just threw him in jail.
He was being sarcastic.
The two guards looked through the thin, steel barrier and chuckled, perhaps they were hungry to see another "interrogation" with this prisoner. The footsteps got more distant and soon extinguished completely from the Slayer's ears. He sat criss-crossed on the floor, feeling naked. He scratched his rough chin, no sure of what to do. He did know that this was bullshit that was clear, but he was more lost on his "objective" more than anything. He knew that the universe was a cruel mistress but…
he picked himself up, walking over to the tiny window that was the only source of light. An orange glow covered the town. Yet the houses looked lifeless and dull, the people looked sick and hungry, the usual mangy dog passed, snapping at the flies that fed on it.
This place was like a whole new low.
The sun went past the horizon as the city lights went out one by one, it was a clear night. The stars twinkling like diamonds, truly a sight to see. Men in red watched over the wild and uncertain lands past the wall, leaning and knocking themselves awake by their spears.
But regardless the city was impenetrable, it was one of the few last standing and it earned its reputation. Their spears were salted and their armor doused in holy water, they had prepared for a full frontal assault and had archers practically everywhere.
In a stone street, almost everyone had gone home. And in the sewers, where waste and rainwater fell through. The slightest drop of water could be heard in these winding tunnels, cold and damp, no sane man would ever venture into these deep roots.
Yet still, claws scraped the stone. resonating in these forgotten halls. Bit by bit, the unknown force drove its way up the winding tunnels, up into the moonlight, up into the city. It was their time, their time to be free. From the steady walk came to a brisk pace, breaking into a sprint. The small skitters turned into an unstoppable force of stomps and wild chase. They were getting closer, their power in numbers shook the ground. Gashing their teeth and snapping at each other, and even crushed to death by the accumulating hordes. In a stone street, almost everyone had gone home. A claw burst out from the cage beneath, its head splitting by the surface rock. Crying in pain and in desperation. The ground exploded.
They were free.
The Slayer's head pressed on the cold metal bars of the prison, he didn't know what the rumble meant but he knew that it wasn't good. Letting himself get captured was a dumb idea but out of all the decisions he made, it looked pretty tame.
Another deep rumble was created, but it felt closer to him and somewhat smaller. Huh? The Slayer looked down the hall, cracks began to form as once again the thump could be heard. Something or someone was trying to break into the prison. The wet wall finally tumbled from constant barrage, as the accumulated dust began to settle. Out came two- no.. three! snarling creatures. The slayer looked at them closely, they had bat like noses and long leathery wings. Snapping their jaws, they growled at the environment.
A loud banging rose the creature's curiosity. It came down the hall, from one of the prison cells. Howling and chirping, excitement and thirst filled their minds.
Barreling down the hall, they found their first victim. It was a man, half naked and standing strong. Reaching to him was proving difficult, no matter how hard they tried to reach him, he would simply back away. The cell door creaked and screamed, yet held steadfast much to their dismay.
Inside the cell, with a steady pace the Slayer walked to the back of the prison. Getting down on one knee and lifting his head to his target, shot like a runner, ramming the door.
The stubborn hinges finally gave way, falling down for the Slayer and pushing two of the demons to the ground as a result. One of them got away in time and threw its claw down to slice the Slayer into bits.
Its hand faltered by another, the demon's attempts to pull away was in vain, the stranger's left arm wrapped around it. Screaming, it transformed its other razor sharp claw into an organic dagger. But the Slayer was quicker, with a balled fist he popped its head off. The monster kept a face of surprise, all the while bouncing off the floor.
While the Slayer had his back turned, one of the brothers crawled out. Raising its claws, he ripped apart the Slayer's back. The Slayer only grunted, dropping the limp body. The monster was amazed by this man's resilience, the Slayer brought his fists down like a hammer. With the monster's head caved in and his body flailing, it too fell like its brother.
The final brother howled for its allies, lurching forward. Its mouth revealing the inky darkness within, the Slayer grabbed its jaw. The monster's hands teared the Slayer's arms as its mouth slowly and painfully unhinged. But the Slayer continued on, putting even more strength into his task. The monster's belly grew warm till hot with a charge of fire while its face carved. It never got the chance to use it, its head broke into halves. The fire deep inside gargled and dimmed into nothing.
He stood over the grotesque bodies triumphantly. His feelings of pride slammed to a halt, the world tilted and he vomited on the floor. What kind of poison is this?
Shaking off the unusual force, he hoisted himself back into new determination. His hands tread over the subsiding scars on his back. The wounds had healed and his body was rebuilt.
The people of Severin held steadfast against the monsters, their defensive's a reckoning against those who challenge them. It was a city of progress, never looking back and always trudging forward. With all its victories and power, it's hard not to think that God was in some play here.
But they were wrong, it was just luck. Even if they had known about what creatures lay beneath there was no hope of survival. As a flea on a dog, it grew.
Soon enough the whole city shook, as a giant waking from its slumber. The chaos was….permanent for some surviving members. The unholy burst from seemingly everywhere, out of the walls, running in the streets.
First they hunted the weak, barging into homes. Murdering but with a purpose, they didn't want to destroy, they wanted to make an impression. Children were left dead, hung on the buildings for all to see, families were tortured till dead. Many were stolen from their very beds, taken to a fate worse than most.
A thin woman and her child, A purple claw raked the air and drew blood across the woman's back. The child heard nothing from her mother, even when she called out her name. The thin woman fell with glassy eyes, she never stood a chance. Above the corpse was a beast who wore a sneer. Its face like a rabid dog, dark black wings, and digitigrade legs towered over the girl. It prowled up to the little girl, opening its wings as if shielding her, stared hypnotically with its bright yellow eyes. The little girl could only see in third person the inevitable death that awaited her, the monster opened wide and consumed her head.
The Slayer shot up the spiral stairs. Facing two different halls, he ran to his left. Weird how almost no one seemed to be here right now, but he should still be careful. Every room kind of looked the same so it was like a labyrinth. And he hated puzzles.
Scratching his chin, if this place was a prison, the men are either soldiers or guards..Therefore-they've got an armory! But now where is it?
Severin's soldiers fought and killed in hundreds, but still thousands kept on coming. Where did they come from, what did they want? Five guards against three demons would only be pounded by another ten, the only thing that was left was the echo of cries. Blood was the only evidence, the bodies were left so disfigured no could know who they were. And there was barely anyone left to try.
the cities best was scattered, vulnerable and one by one they were met with the same fate, massacred, eaten, ripped apart and thrown on the ground. A shell of their former glory.
Fucking finally, excuse his language but getting here was a pain in the ass. The armory was barren, but it wasn't just any suit of armor he was looking for. It was HIS suit of armor he was looking for.
The predator suit has got to he here somewhere, sonofabitch if they did anything to it-
The Slayer stopped in his tracks, a dim light outlined the perimeter of a wooden door. He ran to the end of the room, it was engraved and obviously belonged to someone important. He quietly entered the "office".
He looked around, shelves of books and tapestry covered the walls. In front of him was a desk overflowing with paper and on top of it…
The Slayer's hands picked up the helmet, It bore his mark. Like always, its history with him was an integral part of him. He put it on.
Red devils swarmed like wasps, landing on the rooftops then spewing balls of fire. People banged on the doors of the church, looking for some type of consolation. But the doors were locked, its windows barred, shut out from the world. Blood rained on rooftops, spilling down and dribbling over stone crosses. Their God was silent.
The boots latched on to the rest of the cybernetic armor. He was almost finished, he turned to his left and there lay his combat shotgun. Leaning on the stone wall as if asking, "where the hell have you been?". He gripped it with pleasure and took a breath, now where the hell was the rest of his weapons? The ground shook and several books from the room fell, damn, he's out of time.
They showed no mercy, none to the weak or innocent, brutal in their ways of punishment, ravaged the land with blinding hatred. They would have inhabited the city, leaving nothing behind for the survivors except death. Transferring themselves into other towns and villages, yet their unholy crusade faltered. For he was worse, brutal and unyielding...
The Slayer moved on with a quick pace. Seeing the wooden door at the end, he approached and kicked it open.
BANG the door crashed into the walls.
Chaos filled the courtyard, with every man clashing with the creatures and the archers slinging their arrows. A flash of light caught the Slayer off guard. As a large, bluish monster gilded above him. It opened its maw spewing laser-like energy, vaporizing a couple of guards and its fellow demons. Though quickly shot down it was devastating.
The Slayer felt a scream directed to him, He turned to see a dark green, ram horned demon sprinting and snarling. The demon suddenly heard a loud THUNDERCLAP.
It fell to the ground, dead on the Slayer's feet. Its face torn in half by the buck shot. Its eye dangled from its socket as its red face looked up at the Slayer, he was used to this.
He surveyed the fighting, there were a lot of people here so that would make his job a little more difficult. And the lack of guns was also not helpful, but this is doable.
Ripping and tearing, until there is nothing left. They called him...