Chapter 39, A Fight So Pure.
Warning: Language.
Fenrir tore through the night like a giant black bullet, the girl nestled into his great mane, where she gripped on for dear life as the wind ripped across them like knives threatening to tear away at any bits of skin that were exposed. The only shield provided was that of his fur, moving over her like whips, but at least they didn't feel like the cold razorblades of the night air. She was astonished by the sheer speed of the wolf, and was stuck to him so fiercely by the vortex that surrounded him, that she only had a chance to look up when he slowed—barely. They broke free of the tree cover, passing through a residential area of a few homes, which illuminated the night outside their flickering windows. Fenrir never stopped, but his paws became as silent as the air, and he bounded from each roof, the clatter of clay shingles being the only noise that echoed throughout the empty sky. He pushed off of the last house with a great effort, the shingles on the roof dispersing from his claws as they raked the surface and burst outwards as he launched himself up into the still air.
She watched the serene little houses grow smaller down below, and mumbled an apology for the damage. Surely they had heard very little, except for the last house; she watched the lights turn on, beaming out into the thick black.
It was then that a smell most horrid had sneaked into her nose, and her sight ripped forward, where she could see something bubbling above the tree tops in the horizon, pledging to cloak the sky in its demise. And without a word of explanation, without a warning from her demon steed, she knew that this was their ultimate destination.
The Impure King was alive and well, and would destroy everything in its path if given the chance.
It felt as if they hovered in air for so long in their vantage point, both of their eyes wide as they looked on the scene far away. It was quiet in this part of the forest, and the horrors before them were so surreal. She would have written everything off as a dream, perhaps a bit lucid at best, had she not been struck by a sudden wave of power, so far off in the distance. It felt like fire—anger and desperation smoldering into one. What in the world is happening out there, she wondered. Surely her fellow exwire's were out there, somewhere, fighting that demon. But it was nearly impossible to sense them under the blanket of power that radiated out like a beacon.
A low rumble came from the beast beneath her, and the two began cascading back to earth, Fenrir's legs sprawled awaiting impact. The wind danced with her hair and as they neared the trees she burrowed back into the thick black fur, which shielded her from the branches as they snapped and broke on their way down. As soon as his toes felt soil, Fenrir was off, darting through the trees as fast as he could once again.
Smoke began to cloud the air as they grew closer.
The scent of death and rot burned heavy with the trees.
The sounds of voices and shrieks became lost in the struggle.
A force so overwhelming loomed all around them.
Fenrir's strides slowed immediately to a much less urgent lope. The girl let out a cough as her lungs and eyes burned, and quickly he stopped in his tracks. "Cover yourself; there is a demon's fog here," he barked. Without hesitation, she pulled her scarf up around her nose.
They must have been close; was it the Impure King she felt?
"Can we get up high enough to see what's going on?" she asked from beneath the fabric. Perhaps they might be able to locate the exwires if she could just see. The waves of energy she felt surging like a migraine were blinding her from being able to focus on any other senses.
A deep growl came from below. "No good. We must stay low from here on out." He picked up his feet, moving quietly through the forest, dodging tree trunks and moving around low branches like a whirl of wind as they made their way up the mountainside.
She let out a heavy, defeated sigh. "Can you tell where they are?"
"Your friends are near, fighting the demon."
The girl gripped onto the fur intensely. "Take me to them!" She cried, but the wolf didn't speed up. Off to the side, a hoard of exorcists caught her eye, and she watched them run down the hill, nearly falling from their speed. Shrieks of terror escaped them as they scattered from one another. Desperation welled up inside of her, where it burst out in the name of her familiar. "Fenrir!" He skidded to a halt. "Take me to my friends, now!"
The wolf was quiet still as he stood, and slowly she came out of her determination, distracted by the surroundings once more. A thick black haze covered the forest, so much that her scarf had begun to turn colors from the soot attempting to enter her lungs. She pinched the fabric between her fingers, and rubbed them together, eyeing the black on her fingertips. A scream pierced through her, and she watched an exorcist fall to the grassy floor, scrambling to get to their feet before a putty-like mass slid over them, only to be helped up by another exorcist. Most were coughing; some were falling to their knees, letting out cries of agony, perhaps for their physical pain or from losing a comrade. Some were running without a second thought of helping pthers, while some stopped to assist the ones who couldn't go on any farther, carrying them on their shoulders and backs. The look of defeat on their faces was deafening, and they darted past the demon wolf without much thought—there was a much bigger threat to their lives than a creature nearly four times the size of a normal wolf. Something huge was taking lives, and choking everyone it couldn't take, and along the outskirts of the confrontation, exorcists were beginning to flee.
"My duty is to protect you," Fenrir finally spoke, a low, quiet hum. "I will do as you say, but only if you aren't blinded by your human emotions. To run into this conflict is a death trap. Your friends are scattered, fighting as they can."
Her eyes rested on a screaming exorcist with a broken ankle, being taken over by the rotting mass that moved down the mountain. A small group of exorcists trotted past, and only one broke off to give some aide, grasping the fallen brother by the arm, and pulling with all of his might. But no matter how hard he tried, the mass slowly crept up the body, engulfing it, and spreading out, threatening to move up the arms of the able body before it. She watched in horror as the fingers broke free, and he turned to run again.
"Fenrir—" The girl started, her body moving all on its own, sliding down the leg of the great demon. His jaws snapped at her just as she began running, catching her sweater with his front tooth, where she tore free of him, her feet taking her across the ground to the place where the exorcist was being swallowed. Her eyes searched the mass, searching for any signs of life; somewhere in there was a person who needed help. Just as she was about to reach out, the great wolf demon darted in front of her, growling wildly. "He will die if we don't do something!" She cried.
She was a senseless, willful girl at times, and Fenrir knew it. He had known going to Kyoto, to fight the Impure King, was a terrible idea, but he couldn't say no to his human. He owed her his life, and he would defend hers until he was no more. She was his Queen, and he her humble servant.
"Please!" Her eyes glistened.
Humans were complicated—so selfless at times, and so stupid. He let out a thundering grumble as he turned to the crawling mass, biting down into it, searching for the body. Surely this human meant nothing to the girl, and yet she was ready to risk her own life for it? He couldn't even sense this feeble human it was so weak. The mass moved in towards the wolf as he made contact, spreading around his front paws, and up the long snout that had entered into it. As Fenrir searched, pushing through, the mass moved to envelop him, moving up his legs and over his head and starting down his body; it was then that his jaws skimmed something—it could have been a branch, but he moved around it, securing it within his fangs as the mass went to engulf him completely.
The girl slumped to her knees, the tears starting to bead up in her vision. The Impure King had swallowed up the demon wolf, her familiar, and she was to blame. How idiotic could she have been to think she could have done anything, if Fenrir himself wasn't able to do it?
A few more AWOL exorcists ran past her, only a couple looking her way as they did, though none of them helped her up, or stopped to make sure she was okay. Fear always did do that sort of thing to humans; it was always you or them, and typically, most humans would choose to save themselves over anyone else. The only time a human chose another person over themselves was when one was so pure of heart – empaths, they might be known as – or in the instance of love. Love could often turn the most self-absorbed human into a selfless pile of rubble. Though, demons typically weren't very different in these regards; a demon outside of a contract would always choose themselves. Though, the rules set out by the courts of Gehenna were different than those of Assiah, and such selfishness was actually encouraged. To live life was to live it for oneself; it was only looked down among humans because demons regularly gave into their selfish desires, and all throughout history tried to tempt humans into following in their footsteps.
But fear made humans forget how demonized being selfish was in Assiah.
Fear made humans, who were sworn to duty, abandon their posts, their comrades, and civilians they said they would protect.
Fear made humans look the girl in the eye, and not have a fleeting thought of saving her in the case that she wasn't able to save herself.
Fear turned a blind eye. Fear made excuses. Fear reasoned, she could easily get up and run down the hill at any point. Fear convinced that she would indeed get up, just as they passed, and she would make it to safety. That they didn't need to worry about anything but their own two feet.
But she wasn't scared. Not even as the body of the Impure King crawled and stretched towards her. Not even as thoughts of it swallowing her up, where she might suffocate and die. She had many fears, but here, where her friends where lost somewhere in the forest fighting for their lives, she had none. Maybe anyone else might have felt at a loss as crippling fear set in, whispering thoughts of death into their ear so strongly they felt it was the easiest way to go; but she couldn't give up.
She took to her feet, wiping a tear from her cheek as she stepped back from the mass. It was beginning to overtake the trees now, as more and more made its way down. She wasn't sure how she could help, but she knew she wanted to do something – anything. Saying a few choice words for a protection barrier chant, she started off, heading deeper into the woods. It wasn't long at all before she was finally surrounded, the mass moving up and around her barrier as it encased her like an eggshell, threatening to crumple it.
Before she could do anything, she saw a burst off in the distance, from where she had left the lump that was Fenrir. The bubbling mass rose up like bread in an oven, before finally exploding upwards into the trees as a grey gust of wind propelled it up and out, away from the center; a wind force so strong it reached the spot the girl stood, surrounded by the Impure King, and she struggled to stand against it as the rot was blown away. Her eyes lay rest on Fenrir, taking to his feet, a slumped figure in his jaws. Within the blink of an eye, the wary demon was at her feet, panting heavily as he dropped the body.
She burst with joy, leaping into the great wolf's mane, burying her face into him. "I thought I had lost you!" She cried out.
"It appears it wasn't my time, girl," he thundered. "As for this one," He spoke, looming over the wounded exorcist, "I'm not sure there's much else I could do."
The girl fell to the forest floor, placing two fingers beneath his ear where there was a weak pulse. Pulling the scarf from her soot-covered face, she rolled him onto his back and proceeded to give him mouth to mouth in hopes of reviving him. Fenrir laid upon the ground, letting his tongue fall from his fangs, his eyes scanning the woods around them as the human beside him pushed onto the chest of the fading one, whispering chants beneath her breath for what seemed like minutes.
And then suddenly, the exorcist took a shallow breath, and coughed up black before he was able to breathe again. The girl's face lit up, and she took to the nearest tree to find ample sticks, where she lashed it to his let to set his ankle and ripped a part of her sweated off to make him a mask. He wasn't able to stand, but with the girl's help, he crawled onto the back of the exhausted Fenrir, who let out a meager growl in protest, ultimately allowing the girl to do as she pleased. As she situated herself upon the wolf, he rose to his feet, and they took off into the thick of the woods once more, an extra human in tow.
"Why are we carrying him," Fenrir griped. "Why not just take him back down?"
"We're here to help my friends, so we're not turning back" she replied, looking forward into the trees.
"Why not leave him? He'll only get in the way."
She glared down at the demon. "We'll find a group of exorcists to take him down the mountain."
Fenrir's eyes widened as her words entered him, and he abruptly turned to the right, almost launching the incapacitated exorcist from his back. He ignored the girls' plea for explanation as they lost elevation. She cried out orders to take her back up the mountain towards the Impure King, but was stopped as the sounds of rushing water, clattering, splashing, and yelling made their way to their ears. Through the trees, she caught the sight of a small group of exorcists, fighting along the riverside, to keep the bubbling rot away. She reasoned Fenrir must have either heard or sensed them and took it upon himself to fulfill her orders - there was no time to question his motives.
As they escaped the tree cover, Fenrir took a great leap into the air, releasing a loud bark, a windstorm escaping him, tearing through the Impure King's rotting mass like a tornado, sending bits and pieces flying from where he landed, the ground crunching below his feet. The exorcists let out a sigh of quick relief, only to become worried about the demon that stood before them on the shore.
The girl wrapped her arms around the man, and slid down Fenrir's leg, trying to keep him from hitting too hard. "I need help!" she called, but the exorcists were frozen in place, too terrified of the demon who's growls became louder with each passing second, his hair standing on edge as his lips curled back from his fangs. She quickly smacked Fenrir on the leg, and he licked before shutting his snout. "He's been hurt, I need help!" She cried out once more, attempting to hoist the dead weight up enough to move him closer.
Almost immediately, one of the exorcists broke from the water and rushed to the girls' side, where she helped the girl lay the hurt exorcist out for inspection. A couple men quickly followed, and the remaining two exorcists gave each other a look, choosing to stay thigh-deep in the river. The woman ordered the men to carry the wounded back down to the base camp, and the hastily pulled him up over their shoulders.
Just as they were departing, the rotting mass exploded out from the trees for the exorcists, like a predator waiting to strike its prey. Fenrir whipped his tail around, sending just some of it back with a blast of air, and he looked for the human girl in a panic. A massive amount erupted from the hills above, flowing down into the river, sweeping the two exorcists away. The two men stopped, losing formation, half dropping the wounded exorcist, only to be yelled at by the woman who was of obvious higher class to continue on without anyone else.
Spotting the girl, who was trying to redo her protective barrier, Fenrir jumped towards her, grabbing her by the torn and tattered sweater, and began dragging her off towards the woods. She watched as the woman drew her sword – but what use could a sword have against something that swallowed everything it touched. The two exorcists splashed in the river, just a few feet downstream; one was holding onto a wedged log, while the older was gripped tightly in the first one's free hand, and they struggled to keep above the rushing water as the mass attached to them weighed down terribly. And then, another rush flowed up and over the trees, coating everything in long strings, like a sort of taffy—except it smelt like a thousand corpses. Fenrir stopped, looking for a way out, and another rush swept the woman into the river.
The river. That was their only way out.
Fenrir turned and darted, heading straight for the water, where most of the rot floated on top of the surface. The woman was nowhere to be seen, potentially weighed down by the mass attached to her; and the girl cried out once more.
"We have to help them!"
Why was she like this?
He soared into the air above the river, dropping the girl from his jaws just as he did so, letting her flop onto the ground, and he dove into the water ahead. She watched from the shore, deciding that getting into the river was safer than staying on the land, where the Impure King's rot continued to creep towards her, hungry. A splash caught her attention, and she turned to see the woman fling from the water screaming, sword still in hand, the sticky mass all around her. The girl looked back and forth, and finally caught the image of Fenrir coming up for air downstream, headed for the two exorcists barely clinging for dear life.
She reached into her bag and pulled out her handgun and a few spare explosion rounds, blowing a ward into them as she cupped them in her fist, and loaded them into the chamber as she stepped deeper and deeper into the water, the bubbling, gooey mass getting closer and closer off-shore. Raising her pistol, she shot twice, hitting the brunt of the rot near the woman, which exploded into flames and dispersed. Just as she thought; fire was most effective against Astaroth's rot. The senior exorcist was released, but still being drug down below the surface, and she rushed downstream towards the girl, who managed to catch her and hold her close.
Just like anything else she seemed to do, it backfired horribly. The rotting mass attached to the exorcist woman's lower half quickly attached itself to the girl, and the two of them struggled together to keep from being ripped of their footing as they moved into the water, away from the rot from off shore, the sand below their feet getting more and more loose with each step they took. Finally, they were at an impasse—to step further and fall downsteam into the raging river, or to stand and let the mass of rot sweep over them. Either way, suffocating seemed imminent.
The girl tried to turn her head from the tacky mass, and caught a glimpse of Fenrir in the distance, pulling the exorcists ashore; he was covered in rot, and each step he took caused more and more to attach to him. She called out for his help, and when he realized he would not be able to save the two exorcists and his human, he abandoned them on the shore, where they were overtaken and engulfed by the mass.
He tried with all his might to jump to her, but the rot had such a great hold on him. He tried to flick his tail, but it was firmly glued to his side. He let out a fierce bark, which sent a whirlwind out around him, only to free his legs enough to pull them one by one, slowly. The water splashed where the girl was as she tried to move downstream a ways, and towards the shore, but the rot finally overcame the two, and no longer could they move their legs, causing them to fall into the water. The great wolf demon tried again and again to free himself, to make it to the girl in time, to protect her as he swore to do, but his powers were useless against the strength of the paste that was the Impure King.
The girls gasped for air as they went down, and everything went quiet under the water. Moonlight shone through the ripples at the surface, in between the dark that was floating on top; she tried as hard as she could to pull herself from it, to free a single arm. As they held their breaths, the two exorcists looked at each other as best as they could in the dim light while the rot moved up their bodies, extending down into the water around them from the sheer amount of it.
After fighting for so long, the girl got to witness the first person formally give up, right before her very eyes; she had looked down, and all around her, only to meet eyes with the young exwire and smile sweetly, air bubbles escaping her nostrils and cracked mouth.
There's a large majority of people who would have you believe death is beautiful, maybe even poetic; that you decide to let go and suddenly you fade away into the nothingness blissfully. But the truth is, it's bullshit. And the girl witnessed it first hand, staring into the eyes of another human who thought giving up to death was the best way to go when all else seemed hopeless. The last bubble escaped her, and she looked peaceful for just a moment, until her body tried to inhale automatically.
She had never seen such fright, or pain, or regret in someone's eyes as she did that senior exorcist. She heard the muffled screams just before as she struggled to kick to the surface, but the rot pulled her under even more as it moved up her body. She thrashed as much as she could, looking into the exwire's eyes, begging, pleading for release—for air. No one thinks it will hurt when you decide to go, but it does.
And the girl knew it hurt more than her own shriveling lungs, which were being crushed by the weight of themselves, as if a ton of bricks had been laid on them. And she knew, as she watched the pain subside from the woman's eyes, as she watched her body stop twisting, jerking, and twitching, that soon this would be her. That her mind would tell her body that it needed air, and as much as she wanted to clamp her mouth shut, soon she would take in the water. And they would be the same.
She stayed determined though, as her lungs expanded ferociously in her chest, threatening to break free of her rib cage in order to achieve their goal. She wanted nothing more than to never go through such pain and agony, and instead held her breath, as tightly as possible. Her heart thumped wildly against the wall of her chest, as if the two were working in tandem. The mass moved its way up and around her body. Her lungs felt as though they were crawling up her throat, to open her mouth themselves in order to breathe the night air. Even the sooty miasma filled air would do. Wouldn't it be disappointed when it was water?
Damn, it hurt.
What was she waiting for?
Why not just take a breath, and let it be over with?
It was obvious there was no way out of this. It was over. Demons had won, had taken her, had their way with her, chewed her up and spit her back out.
God, I'm an idiot, she thought.
If only she could do it again. She'd be a better daughter. She'd make sure to spend less time studying, and have more friends instead. She'd live an actual life for herself, instead of being so focused on learning the secrets of spirits and demons. The moment she got her temptaint, her whole life's goal was basically complete. What did she have to show for it? Look where it had gotten her. Maybe she should have stayed at the mansion. Maybe she should have listened.
God, I am a fucking idiot.
But still, as weak as she was becoming, she held her breath. And still, the mass moved up her, encasing her. And then everything went dark. She was floating soundlessly as the pain inside her burned like hell. But there was something, some power out there, keeping her fading mind alive. And then she was on fire. Her arm twisted. Her head hit a rock. Air kissed her cheek, and she took in a deep breath. It was hot. Everything was hot. Why was it hot? She cracked open an eye, only to see the black blur of Fenrir splayed on the ground. He was so far away. There was a white blur in front of it. Something else, some other blur, popped up, and pulled Fenrir into it before disappearing.
The white blur moved closer.
Why was it so hot?
(Author: I didn't realize this was so long until I finished it, but enjoy~)
