Damien's first friend came from an unlikely source. His high school, Amity Vale's Academy for the gifted, was a very expensive but famous private school in his area. Every 4 years they would release a lottery, picking between the top 5 students in the district to be admitted, the lucky student was a freshman, much like Damien. His name was Jeremy Renolds. Jeremy was an odd kid, he lacked the manners and sophistry one would expect attending such a prestigious academy, and had gotten on the bad side on one of the more popular clichés when he ruined a project of theirs. A mishap he maintained was accidental. Damien and Jeremy were two very different people, Damien was reserved and calmer, while Jeremy was boisterous and manic. While Damien was somewhere in the upper-mid echelons of popularity, Jeremy was rock bottom. Though his friendship with Damien helped a little. Damien avoided conflict like the plague, though when push came to shove his fitness and years of martial arts made him a decent fighter for his age, Jeremy was hard-pressed to hold himself back at any little provocation, and was a terrible fighter. Damien didn't find himself to be of great intellect, citing his studious nature more to the strict schedule his parents put him through, and the numerous tutors on their payroll. Jeremy on the other hand seemed like one of those one in a million geniuses, destined for great things. He was no slouch either, his studious nature without anyone forcing him impressed and bewildered Damien, who studied more for the sake of placating his parents than anything else. Keeping up with opposites, while Damien's parents could be described as clod, if not neglectful or even hostile to their son's feelings, Jeremy's parents were warm and kind, even with the little with which they had. And in that lay the greatest opposite, while Damien's family was amongst the richest in their school, Jeremy's parents had only recently pushed themselves out of abject poverty. Despite all these differences they were the best of friends for an uncanny reason, their love for the Anarchal Reign series of books. It was about a boy with a miserable life thrust into a secret world of magic and monsters. Both of them longed for the next book in the series, what Damien never told his friend was that his dad was friends with the author, and had gotten an early version of the book.
Damien sat in the back seat of the nondescript car his father's coach drove them in, he had gotten his father's permission to drop Jeremy off due to his distance from the school. He turned to look at Jeremy, who reeked of milk. What Jeremy never told him, and what he never realized, was that Jeremy was being bullied by two brothers, Bryant and Mason, they were notorious for fighting, and got away with everything they did due to their family's contribution to the school. Jeremy had gotten their ire in the first place when he spoke to Bryant's girlfriend, and at the same time made a fool of the boy. Bryant and his girlfriend broke up a little after when Bryant's insecurity caused him to confront her. And he'd have Jeremy on his hitlist for the year. As far as Damien had known, they had only done small things. Tease him, push him a bit, spill food and drink. What he wouldn't know until later was that they'd also beat him up and take pictures of him in compromising positions, in order to blackmail him and make him do things for them, such as school work, and buying illegal paraphernalia.
Jeremy had been silent the trip home. Damien had tried everything to have small talk with him, but to no avail.
"He's not here is he…"
Damien drifted to his memory of receiving the book from his dad…
Damien looked at his old father. Solomon Wilson was an interesting man, author of best-selling crime novels, husband to a state legislator attempting to make her name known on the national stage. As a public figure he and his wife put up the front of a loving and strong couple, with a gifted and well-rounded son who got into no trouble. The only reason Jeremy was tolerated was due to the fact he was famous for being a gifted child and their son being friends with a pauper was good publicity. Damien moved the bitter thoughts from his head as he stood attention in front of his father, who was busy rereading a draft for his newest novel, a story about finding the real culprit to an otherwise straightforward murder case.
"So…" Damien flinched as his father spoke. He hadn't remembered doing anything particularly egregious, he'd kept at the top of his classes. He was excelling at the extracurriculars, and while he was behind Jeremy grades wise, it was a constant since his one incorrect extra credit question.
"Yes father?" Damien asked.
"My good friend wishes for my help for a section of his story." Damien cocked his head, his father often gave advice for stories, and was well known in the author circle for his insightful help. Even James Howard, the author of the Anarchal Reigns series was a good friend of his. Damien had the benefit of meeting the man once due to his father. "The main character is being tried for something he didn't do; he needs my help in placing evidence and letting it be gathered."
"Oh?" Damien still didn't understand what was required.
"I believed I needed what he had so far, so I could contextualize the situation. And I felt perhaps, even after reading it, my opinion wasn't enough."
He's definitely lying, Damien felt defensive as his father looked at him, his father never looked for Damien's opinion, he doubted that was what he sook now.
"So," His father continued, taking out a hefty pamphlet and handing it to his son. "I thought perhaps you'd enjoy reading it, perhaps you could let me know what you think." Damien fake smiled graciously, looking at the book, but his smile faltered as he read the title.
"This… this is…"
"You are a fan of James Howard, no?" Solomon smiled, "I know I'm not the easiest father, but you have been doing adequate work with your studies and extracurriculars. So, when James suggested I let you read his work before it gets published, I thought perhaps you were currently deserving of it, please make sure you keep up the good work."
Thanking his father profusely Damien ran to his room to read it. He loved every minute of it, and read until it was late past his curfew, turning off the lights he turned to sleep, only to flinch in shock as he saw a red eyed red-haired youth looking at him.
"I finally found you." The shade began, smiling. Damien could only stare in shock as the shade inched closer. "You know, that woman and those filths were annoying to get past, their ranks only increased as I ripped the minds from the men I slaughtered in the physical world. But now all that's left is the boy. And here I am, it seems there are two of you." He walked closer, hand outstretched, only to be interrupted by the slamming of doors. Damien flinched as the jostling let him realize what part of the memory he was in, his mother had come back from a political rally, she and his father had had a loud discussion, waking Damien from the rest he would have originally had. This distraction allowed Damien to move, he slipped away from the shade and leapt out the window, hurtling to the floor he kept his eyes open, passing in as he slipped deeper into his memories.
The shade opened his eyes. Looking around for a bit he scowled as he spied Atlas, who was busy stuffing a pack with provisions. This was the third store room they raided of weapons and food, and the large sacks they dragged along were beginning to look ridiculous.
"Master?" Atlas inquired, curious as to his charge's sour look.
"Nothing important, something just slipped my mind. And he was really, really, annoying." The shade sighed in consternation, "You'd think we'd run into more shades by now, I made maybe thirty of them." As if answering his prayers, he ran into the first shade he created, she was now accompanied by one with 20 or so spirits within him. They looked on to the younger shade, approaching him quickly, they appraised Atlas coolly, wary of his power.
"I am Yolin." The male spoke, radiating pride as he did. "You created me correct?"
The younger shade's nod made him smile. "I had wondered, the way we were summoned, you targeted our peoples who wanted to possess a body."
The female smiled lasciviously as she held Yolin's shoulder. "It has been centuries since we've held the female form. So, you have our thanks." She winked at the younger shade, who merely frowned.
"Unfortunately, this one's body had not gone through puberty, so any offers can't be taken upon." He looked around. "Where are the others?"
"Most are dead. They attacked the enhanced children, luckily whatever you planned worked, and none of us have been fated to be the fuel."
The shade smiled. "Good, I hoped as much. So, Yolin, erm…" He turned to the female shade.
"Vulna."
"Vulna, why are you two here?"
"We wanted to see who was powerful enough to summon us all here, though it's surprising that one of our own would do so." Yolin began, "We trust no one, not even ourselves, so to trust another?"
The young shade laughed, "Who said I trust you?" The two shades joined in laughter as well, Atlas just looked on confused.
"Ahh yes…" Vulna lashed out, attempting to behead the young shade, who's ward blocked her attack quickly. He smiled as her hand caught on fire, a smile matched as she struck again, only to be this time slammed to the floor, her blade in the young shade's hand as he brought it to her throat.
"Well? Have I passed your test?" The young shade kept his eyes on Vulna, ignoring the proximity of Yolin's hand to his neck. Yolin for his part kept his composure as Atlas's fingers were dangerously close to his eyes.
"Yes… you did." Yolin retracted his hand, causing Atlas and the young shade to relax as well. As the shade got off of Vulna she stretched.
"Hmm… despite your age you are stronger than me."
"Perhaps the physical age and experience of your host is addling your mind, my host is stronger than yours, and I have more spirits." He turned around, Atlas following after. "Come on then, we have more brethren to gather, there's still 4 or so of them left I gather."
"All right… boss, though…" Vulna put a finger to her lip, "Do I have a name for our leader?" Atlas looked on as well.
The shade smiled as he turned to face them. "Yes… you do…" He looked at Atlas, "Before the gods, before the titans, were the protogenoi, the very constants of the world. Of Greek cosmology of course, I don't find it true, else my host would have been dancing in those grey fields, or doing homework in Tartarus." He chuckled at his joke. "But I find it interesting, that Hades, who is mistaken sometimes for the Greek equivalent of the Abrahamic Lucifer…"
The shades cocked their heads at the young shade's nonsense, neither they nor their host bodies had heard of these terms.
"… Anyways, despite being more along the lines a neutral god of the afterlife, Hades is mistaken for Lord of Hell, when that true title comes to a being predating even Hades' father, Kronos, the protogenoi Tartarus." He smiled, smoke wafting in his hand to form a diorama of the day's events, the shades watched with interest as the smoke filled the floor, and formed a recreation of spirits entering humans. More often than not the human simply exploded and died. Some of the shades that formed were little more than bumbling idiots destroyed by their soberer brethren. They smiled for each of their respective formations. "Tartarus is the lord and representation of Tartarus, land of the damned, where the evil goes to be punished for eternity. Don't get me wrong." He stopped in front of a pile of rubble, snapping his finger it lifted to reveal a cowering soldier. "Tartarus himself is as evil, if not worse, than the ones he destroys." He smiles as a small wick of fire erupts on the soldier's hand, who begins to scream and panic, trying to put out the small flame that gets progressively bigger as it travels through his body. No matter the method of attempting to put it out, the fire continued, spreading to his other hand and reaching his legs before snaking up his torso and face. "But Tartarus's evil allowed him to enjoy the suffering he brought along." The shade smiled, "Think about that… a being of pure evil, a force of nature designed with the sole purpose of spreading misery, pain, and fear. The father of the mother of monsters, so in that regard the true progenitor of hell on earth and the monsters that infest it." He smiled at the 2 shades, who regarded him now with a bit of uncertainty and distaste. "That name is absolutely fitting. You want my name?"
"Die shade scum!" The soldier, fully on fire and with nothing to lose charged the young shade in a suicide attack. Only to be cut at the legs, tumbling on the floor face first he screamed in agony as his raw skin scraped on the floor, the fire going out prematurely the shade lifted the still breathing struggling man into the air, taking the sword that had been aimed at his chest. He aligned it with the man's chest, aiming to cut into his heart in one motion. He cocked his arm back, savoring his victim's fear. Smiling he turned to his fellow shades.
"I…AM…TARTARUS." And let the blade plunge…
Damien plunged deeper into his memories; he had allowed nostalgia to put him into a false sense of security. Skipping past the point where he finished the book, he found the moment trouble began to brew.
"If Faris isn't hiding somewhere here, then it's over."
Damien had let Jeremy borrow the book, but was expecting it back today. Damien hadn't found Jeremy in the free period at the end of the school day. He had at first believed that Jeremy simply left school early during free period. He often had nothing to do, and on especially slow days he slipped out. Damien hadn't expected to be fighting against two older students.
"What happened?" He hissed at Jeremy, who has badly bruised behind him. Facing the two of them were two seniors. Mason and Bryant, they were siblings and nephews to an oil tycoon. Making them the richest students in the school bar none. They had spent some of their formative years in Brownsville, New York, with the people's motto of 'Never Ran, Never Will.' Damien sighed, those two had gotten into vicious fights before, but their father put enough into the school and police force that they could get away with almost anything except murder and a few other equivalent crimes. Right now, they looked ready to murder Jeremy.
"Oh!?" Jeremy scowls, smiling at Damien before giving Mason and Bryant hostile looks. "Those idiots tried to recruit me for a project they had, but I declined them graciously, and they decided to reply in turn."
Mason was nursing a bump on his forehead. "Retard! You threw a rock at my forehead!"
"That's not cool language Mason!" Damien said, "Stop it anyway! A teacher is on their way!"
"Yeah right! No one's at this part of the school! It's undergoing renovation, so no cameras or nothin' and you didn't have the time." Bryant, walked up and shoved Damien. "Now move so that I can teach your little boyfriend a lesson bitch."
Jeremy for his part tried to tackle Bryant, but was pushed back, slamming into a wall. Before Bryant could continue his pummeling, Damien pressed on his shoulder, causing him to spasm in pain. "Leave, him ALONE!"
"Augh!" Bryant screamed out. Mason roared, charging Damien, he struck him in the face, Damien's head snapped to the side as he took the blow, and he doubled over as Bryant struck again in the stomach. Jeremy leapt on Bryant's back, causing him to tumble. Jeremy began hitting Bryant on the back of the head repeatedly until Mason kicked him hard. Damien heard the audible crack as Jeremy's arm broke. Damien looked at Jeremy's arm, then at Mason who kicked it. Mason grinned at him fiercely.
"Well how about that? I broke the b-" He clutched his face as Damien hurled a rock hard at his temple. Bryant couldn't reach in time as Damien struck at Bryant hard punching and kicking and striking with all his force. Eventually Bryant reverted to the fetal position, crying out in pain.
"Stop it now!" Damien turned his head sharply, seeing Mason holding Jeremy by the throat, pocket knife in his hand. "Let my brother go or I'll cut your boyfriend."
"Then let go of Jeremy." Damien looked at Mason evenly, "I don't trust you, if you so much as cut him…"
Mason grinned, pressing the blade to Jeremy's neck. Damien flinched and backed off. "Chicken…" Mason began before losing focus as Jeremy smashed the back of his head into the older boy's nose. Jeremy grabbed Damien by the arm and they sprinted off. Damien took out his phone, dialing 911.
Bryant and Mason both had several bruises and a concussion, and Mason had a broken nose, while Bryant's wrist was fractured. Damien had a few cuts and bruises as well. Jeremy was the most injured, a broken arm, fractured leg, broken nose, and a severe concussion. As soon as Bryant and Mason and Damien were known, they were released to their respective households, but Jeremy was stuck in the penitentiary for half a day. It took Damien arguing with his father for the first time to get someone to help Jeremy. The school was no better, they had wanted to sweep everything under the rug, but Bryant and Mason's family were out for blood, their little angels could do no wrong in their eyes. But Damien's mother was a politician, his parents also made substantial donations, and they wanted a punishment for Bryant and Mason. The school decided then that they would spin a story of Jeremy attacking all three, thus exonerating the three rich kids from any trouble. Damien vehemently opposed that idea, but his father and mother quickly agreed, they couldn't have their son be known for starting fights, so they kept him in the home as he recovered.
"I hated this." Damien though as he skipped past the long month.
Rushing to Jeremy's home Damien found it vacant. Asking around he learned that after the news of Jeremy's trouble. His parents had no choice but to move. He had returned dejected, but that wasn't the least of his problems.
"You stupid moron!" His father smacked him in the face. "Where's the fucking book!" Damien paled as his father continued. "The book! John is on my back because he found his book sold for $100,000 then distributed before the official release! It! It was that stupid friend of yours wasn't it?! I knew I shouldn't have let you associate with him!"
Damien tried to argue with his father, defend his friend, but nothing he said or did could convince him otherwise.
"…"
Damien skipped ahead, he skipped ahead again and again, the school year was about to end when he returned to his memories.
"Jeremy…"
The boy who used to be his friend smiled at him, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Oh… it's you."
"What happened?"
"You fucking know what happened." Jeremy grinned, "You all left me the shaft, and I spent a half- year in juvie. The only reason I'm here is because the school decided to settle my lawsuit, drop my expulsion, and readmit me."
"Jeremy… I"
"What?" Jeremy laughs, "You didn't mean for it to happen? Then where the fuck were you? When Mason and Bryant began bullying me? When the school pressed charges? While I was in juvie? Do you know my hospital bills nearly bankrupted my parents? Hell, the only reason I'm talking to you is because I guess I do owe you one. Hospital bills and a decent lawyer require money. And a bestselling series of books being sold early makes a lot."
"You sold the book?" Damien felt a flash of anger, but it was followed by crushing guilt.
"$67,000 Damien, that's how much it cost to fix me up. My parents went bankrupt and I almost became a ward of the state, hell they tried to take my little siblings." Jeremy looked on angrily, "My smarts and hard work, my parent's kindness? My supposed friendship with you? That did nothing. Money's what talks in this world." Jeremy brushed past Damien, "I already know I have to tolerate you for at least two more years until you graduate, but you better fuck off and leave me alone, I don't want to see you more than I have to."
As Jeremy left the room seemed to darken, Damien turned to see a boy, he backed up in fear, but recognized the lengthy dark brown hair.
"…Faris?"
"…Is this when you resolved to be more proactive?" Faris looked at Damien, teary-eyed. "Too little too late wouldn't you think?" Time seemed to skip ahead, day and night flashing back and forth within seconds, to a fateful night. Damien could only look on in helplessness as he saw himself biking home.
"I decide to try and help my friend, and he ends up jailed and ridiculed, taking the fall for my actions, and he almost lost his siblings. I try and help a woman I don't know, and she ends up being a thief and killing me because I put down her victim and tried to stop her from killing him. I use magic to save a girl I like, and her parents are murdered because the spell I used put suspicion into the girl's teacher. I then led to the death of an innocent coach driver. Then after that, I barely save his wife and son, only to leave and return too late to save 3 children, I save the rest yes!" Faris begins shouting, "But then because I acted and saved the few that remained, and lost my temper! Just like I did with Jeremy! Now I'm here! In jail! What Jeremy went through! Without rich assholes who care more about their image! I put my friends through so much! And now I'm here rotting like I deserve!" Faris began crying, "Isn't it better if we just give up? Every decision I make screws us over… so a shade would be a better choice, right?" Damien looked at the crying boy in front of him, he breathed in, then out, smacking him hard on the face.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He cocked his eyebrow. "Is that why you fucking gave up? Because of bad decision making?" Damien held his hand to his forehead. "You and I know this shade wants to kill everyone and everything right? Are you so scared of the bad choices you may accidentally make that you'd rather leave it to a psychopath, just so you can say you aren't responsible?" Faris's silence served to infuriate him, "Where's the dickhead who killed and punished those gangsters with impunity, why do you care now huh?"
"Shut up!" Faris screamed covering his ears.
Damien sighed, like it or not, no matter how smart, or mature, or scary Faris could be, he was ten, Damien couldn't expect him to keep mature. "Fine then, sometimes you don't want to bear responsibility." Damien grinned sardonically, "Isn't that why I'm here? I already told you, I'd take the blame, I'd take the hate, I'd suffer, I just want to feel, if only vicariously. That shade's not…" Damien turned his head to the side… "No…"
Faris looked on in confusion then fear. "Wait… Venka…"
"That energy, it's hers definitely… what's going on?"
Tartarus licked the blood off his mouth, the enhanced children stood before him, together but exhausted. Though he saw a new child he hadn't seen before.
"New recruits already? Did you replace me?" He looked the fat boy up and down. "Damn, experimenting on children must be like Burger King, because that's a fucking Whopper Junior right there." The large boy for his part remained silent, he cowered behind Gamma, who seemed to be quite protective of him, which made the shade chuckle. "Come on now, you guys should be doing better, there are only 10 of us." He turned to his shade allies, his group comprising of himself, Yolin, Vulna, and Atlas had grown to a sizeable posse. Even after losing Yolin and Vulna, who had escaped to the surface world then died. He only truly became wary when he first lost Hruk, then almost lost Tartarus, who returned to him saying he was defeated by a group of children and adults. If someone as strong as Tartarus could be held down by the enhanced children, before they could leave, they had to get rid of Dr. Mendel. Their goal was the slaughter of every human in this facility before turning their attention outside. No need to keep loose ends.
"Dammit! Dammit! How'd you find us?!" Dr. Mendel scowled angrily.
"That light…" Tartarus pointed to a secret room, "The light is suppressed, but that room can only hold it back so much, so we followed the trail here. If it's a shade, that's another recruit, if it's one of you…" He narrowed his eyes, "No need to keep a dangerous thing alive." He laughed as Dr. Mendel began to run into the room. "Take care of the others, Atlas! With me!" He sprinted after the Doctor, entering the room just in time to see him flee into the wall, before he could destroy it the irresistible smell of power caused him to turn to the youths on the wall. "It seems they weren't turned yet; they may be useful sha…" He looked at the girl in the middle, she was likely pretty, though the bruises and burns on her hid that, one eye was sealed shut from being struck, but her piercing gemstone like green eyes shined through. Her hair, a deep auburn spilled over her side. Looking at her he felt a conflicting amount of emotions, fear, hatred, desire of that power, lust, pain, joy, and… "Venka…" His host's memories, in all their completeness began to flood him. He scowled angrily as he realized the depths of whatever feeling.
The spirit seemed to flicker within as the combined onslaught of Faris and Damien began to strike at it, fighting back in order to retake their mind. Whatever pain, whatever angst, whatever hurdle they were going through, Faris had already sworn in the ancient language to protect Venka. And he was going to keep it.
"It took you long enough…" Anya's facsimile looked on with smug satisfaction as she and the other bundles of memories looked on as the original owner of the mind began to fight against the interloper. The shade was still stronger, but now it wasn't by an unwinnable margin.
"Damn you… you should have just surrendered." The spirit whined.
"I won't give you my body!" Damien retorted, "I won't give you my mind! And I'll especially not give you Venka!"
The spirit was surprised. "How can anyone fight against me?! How can a mortal compete with a spirit's mind!?"
"Idiot" Damien grinned, "Just cause you've taken over the body doesn't mean we in the mind can't do anything about it." Anya smiled as she recalled her efforts to take over Faris's body, he had already lapsed mentally allowing her to access his magical reserves and use it to harm his body on the outside, further weakening him. It wouldn't be farfetched for Faris and Damien to do the same, but instead use the magic to strengthen their minds as they fought Tartarus. "As long as we don't give in to despair you can't defeat us."
Tartarus clutched his forehead.
"Master?" Atlas began, only to be silenced by Tartarus's hand motion away. The young shade looked at the children, who stared into the smoke covering him warily. Stepping out of the shadows the first thing he saw was the girl scream. His heart twinge and he felt his unruly host's mind falter slightly. Grinning he turned to the boy who just asked his name.
"Faris huh…" He spoke louder, "Was that this body's name?"
"Checkmate mortals" The spirit crowed, he cared not as Damien and Faris began to rapidly free the bundles of conciousness and memory called Anya, and as they began to free the others as well, Damien and Faris's attacks were desperate and straightforward, they wanted to protect Venka. "Surrender and I'll spare her life." He frowned. "Disappointing."
Tartarus leapt forward, "Kverst abr Verkr! Ramr hvass blädren abr verkr! Eldrvarí un vegarí!" (Painful cut! Strong sharp blade of pain! Burn and kill!) His fingers began to spark in dark flames, which formed semi cohesive talons that upon coming in contact with Venka's skin would burn and cut and inflict pain, before ultimately killing her. Despite the power she radiates, those shackles keep her at bay. And she can't defend herself. A cruel smirk hit his face as he envisioned her flesh being torn asunder and her lovely eyes losing their light.
The sprit seemed at the height of his power crowing in victory as the others inside Faris began to falter. They were disjointed and weaker, their numbers having swollen when the shade partook in the slaughter of the men and women of this underground world.
"You've lost" Damien and Faris said, smiling.
Tartarus widened his eyes as his body involuntarily twisted, his hand missing the mark by inches and burying itself smoothly into the wall beside it. His face and body close enough to Venka's form to emulate an intimate embrace he shuddered as every hostile thought he had towards her seemed to weigh on and shackle him, keeping him from moving. "What… is… this?!"
"You discovered it yourself, didn't you?" Damien began, "When you discovered Atlas's true name…"
"You…" The spirit began…
"The true name of the body does not change, just because the spirit took over. It only changes with growth and experience, and memory." Faris continued. "I took a binding oath to protect Venka, even if you have my mind, my body remembers, and it won't let you do as you please, you may be a creature of magic, and you have taken my body, but the ancient language is the language of truth, and unless you knew the name, you can't unbind it. My body knows you tried to stab Venka, so it stopped your movements. Then you wanted to kill her with a word of death, so it halted your mind and control over magic. You may be a shade, but part of Mendel's spell binding you to my body's condition still lasts, all I did was protect you from being killed by that connection."
"You baited me!"
"Yes and no, we didn't have full confidence in whether it would work or not. We didn't even mean for you to bind with Faris." Damien began, "That's why I needed to find Faris after the binding was incomplete, he was the one who made the oath, if he wasn't present, and was in the limbo of my memories you didn't have access to, then this might not have worked. Your shocking jump scare helped me along Tartarus, thanks for the help."
Tartarus's eyes flickered from their iridescent red to Faris's natural blue countless times, before he collapsed.
The spirit began to panic as the egos he had previously slain and absorb began to bind to him, mixing in with him, holding him down.
"Malthinae" Damien said, Faris echoed his words, as did Anya, as did Uglauw, as did Nog and Jespen, as did each of the rest of the vagabonds, and each of the guards working for Mendel slain by Tartarus.
"But! Don't you hate the boy?!" Tartarus screamed out, as he felt his conciousness begin to tear itself away from his power, perhaps this was death, though it was different from what happened to his spirit brethren, what happened to them was less painful.
"Of course, I hate him." Anya said, "In reality, I'm not the real Anya, I'm a collection of her memories, the real Anya's drooling in an irreparable comma. Uglauw and his men were burned to a crisp and are probably almost done decaying. And half the soldiers in here were failed shade transformations. We all hate the boy, because the only reason you're here, we're here, is because of him, but also…" Anya smiled, "We'd be dead or gone either way, right? There's something a little thrilling, and a little less boring with continuing on through someone else, even if that's the someone who slew us, isn't there?"
Uglauw continued, sword in hand as he and the constructs of his cohorts held down the spirit's movements as they seemed to split itself from its essence. "Faris promised to protect my wife and daughter, he kept my daughter safe in my absence, and he promised my men and I vengeance against Mendel and Rembrant, and against the Scarlett Heart, they turned us into these monsters, and while we're paying for our sins, and will continue to pay for them, they need an accounting."
"Oh?" Tartarus's spirit radiated mirth and disgust at the same time, "You're all weak. The boy didn't have the nerve to admit he killed you, so he's keeping you here to ease his guilt? And you'd rather have this pitiful existence than die?"
"What of you Tartarus? Do you feel nothing for your fellow spirits?"
"Please, spare me your pleasantries. You know nothing of what my people went through, what our sacrifice entailed. The only reason all of you pathetic bags of meat are alive today is thanks to us, yet you seek power and take advantage of us, and those of us who want to experience life again join with you. Evil humans tend to seek our power, and when the shade dies, their evil stays with us, and so on, and so forth, no matter where we go and what we do, you all tie me down, you think I'd want to peaceful cohabitate with you? I'd rather your people all gone, and if using you as a vessel quickens that…" The shade spoke no longer.
"You have a Grey outlook on life Tartarus." Damien said. "To you, to all shades normally, friendship and love are meaningless concepts, power is everything right? Power in any form? Be it control, raw power… money maybe even. Are you sure that feeling isn't from the humans you despise?" Tartarus remained silent. Faris felt a massive presence fill his mind only to back away almost as instantaneously, as if it never existed in the first place. Ignoring it he turned to Tartarus, who had by now given up.
"Laesa…" (Lock) Tartarus found himself in a dark room, unable to see, hear, touch, or smell, much like when he was a spirit, but now also unable to move or sense the world around him. As if he was dead, or maybe the world before was a dream, and this was reality. Then he heard something, the steady rhythm of a drum, soon, he realized, it wasn't a drum, but a heartbeat.
"Humph, that idiot couldn't kill me either…"
Venka looked at Faris, or the boy she used to know as Faris on with tear stained eyes, collapsed on the floor and unconscious as a larger shade approached them. A tearing sound was heard as Seya ripped herself free from her bindings, the shock of Tartarus's impact enough to allow her the final push, but at a cost.
"Dammit." Seya's hair turned white as she faced down Atlas, before it had taken all of their combined might to defeat him, but he wasn't dead. A revived shade is more powerful that it was before. Atlas towered over Seya; who's hands slowly began to reform. Seeing as the shade had his attention of Faris, she took the opportunity to free each of them. They turned to face Atlas, Seya taking the lead.
"Step back little girl, my master awakes." Atlas began, veins popping on his knuckles as he stared down the children menacingly. As he spoke the red-haired youth groaned, beginning to get up. His complexion had lost its slight pallor and was returning to the darker skin tone they recognized. He opened his eyes, blue as a clear and crisp day they looked at his friends, then at Atlas, then back to Venka.
"I… I have explaining to do…" Faris began, smiling awkwardly as Venka rushed to his embrace.
"YOU MORON!" she screamed. "YOU ARE A MONUMENTAL IDIOT! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!" She began to cry. Faris before he could say anything else was tackled by Nya, then Katya, then Morgan, then the twins, and even Seya. Barely squeezing out from the bottom of their pile hug the youth looked up unto Atlas's massive frame.
"Erm…"
"Yes master?"
"I thought Tartarus was your master…" Faris began…
"Whether you are known as Faris, or known as Tartarus, you freed me. And if Tartarus had willed it, you would be dead." Faris thought to the foreign presence in his mind that left quickly, it had likely been Atlas.
"How're you holding up champ?" Morgan said, as they let him up.
"Oh, you know…" Faris began with a smirk, "Still in one pie-" At first, he didn't understand their horrified expressions, or Atlas's face morphing into a mask of fury, then he felt a tearing sensation from the small of his back through his chest. He looked down to see a curved blade skewered through his heart. Turning his neck, he saw Alpha, gash on her arm slowly healing, eyes bathed in red fury, she pulled out her blade, letting him bleed out faster. Delta, Theta, Eta, and Zeta charged in behind her, dark blood on their hands not belonging to them. That's when Faris realized the energy that belonged to the shades Tartarus had recruited were gone. But that was the last thing he realized before everything went black. Scratch that, second to last thing, as he felt what was the equivalent to the sound of glass shattering before he hit the floor.