Hell

Tetra fanned herself as Mari inhaled her ice-cream. “God Lord, that sun is bright!” The elf complained. “Not that it matters to you. You’re so pale that you glow in dark. I don’t even think you’re capable of getting a tan!”

“Oww...” Sori winced as he lifted his spoon. “My skin is so painful it hurts to move.”

“Nanny told you to put on sun ointment before we left.” Mari shook her head at her brother. “You have no one to blame but yourself for turning into a boiled lobster. The heat is sapping all my energy, though.” Mari sighed and leaded back. “We’ve been at it for hours and still nothing!” The three had become overheated and taken a break at a sidewalk cafe, but Mari’s hunt for a gift had remained fruitless.

“Sissy, can we go back now?” Sori begged.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, but I’m getting tired, too.” Tetra admitted. “Why don’t we go relax in the springs for bit and then come back tonight or tomorrow?”

“Okay.” Mari sighed. ‘I know we still have a couple of days and there’s no hurry, but I just want to know that I have Azreal’s gift.’ The failure irked her as she finished up her treat.

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Their forms wavered like a mirage; a clear sign that they had been pretending to be human. No matter how much he looked at them, Azreal’s mind couldn’t form a clear picture of the creatures. He didn’t know if it was an innate ability of the beings or if some sort of spell had been cast to confuse them, but his mind and eyes couldn’t comprehend what he was looking at.

When he was pressed to describe them later, he’d explain that they had left a distinct impression of being twisted. Whether in form or nature, he couldn’t say. They were as dark as the void and their forms kept bending and stretching in ways that no living creature could or should ever stretch. Their arms were the weapons that they extended and lashed out with. Did they have four arms? Eight? Were those even arms, or where they phantom tentacles formed by some wicked magic? He was unsure, and it didn’t matter; there were so many limbs, and they were as sharp as any blade and as strong as multiple men. Whether it was a hallucination of fear, the manipulation of magic, or the sheer wicked aura of the beings, a hellish noise seemed to envelope the entire canyon and the world took on a blood-red tint the moment they appeared.

“Go. Now!” Azreal screamed as he and Scath took off running the way they had come. They were no longer skilled mercenaries and agents of the darkness, but cornered rabbits running to escape the slaughter. Their retreat was uncoordinated and chaotic. It didn’t matter; quiet or loud, retreat was the only way to stave off certain death for a moment.

The two thundered foreword, only briefly stopping when they didn’t sense the beings right behind them. Stopping was foolish but so was mindlessly running without picking a direction. The two looked around frantically.

“Scath! Did we come this way earlier?”

“How the hell should I know? Everything looks familiar and strange at the same time!” Scath was close to sheer panic.

‘This isn’t good!’ Azreal grit his teeth. ‘He’s too scared. The weaker your will, the more susceptible you are to demons, and these things seem to be able to alter our minds and perceptions of reality!’

The hellish roar resumed and the two panicked, not knowing what to do.

Without warning, Azreal’s instincts activated. His body moved on its own. “Look out!” He tackled Scath to the ground, the sharp tendrils lacerating his back. The two men crashed to the ground.

One of the things had found them and its multitude of limbs were reaching out to violently embrace them. “Move! Go!” Azreal shoved Scath one way and jumped in the other, just avoiding the mass stabbing into the ground where they had been.

Azreal took a blade in each hand and he hacked and slashed at anything that came near him. The razor-sharp things tore at his skin, but he jerked and dogged. Acting on primal instinct, Azreal moved like a mindless berserker until he was surrounded by severed tendrils. He crouched and breathed heavily, waiting, but no more tendrils came. He didn’t sense any of the creatures nearby. Had it retreated? Or had it died once he had cut off all its appendages? He still felt the oppressive feeling, so they weren't completely safe. Azreal gave a hesitant sigh and turned to Scath.

“Okay lets-!” Azreal froze in horror. At first, he assumed it was a hallucination, but it became clear that what he saw was reality.

“Kack! -z-el...elp me...” Scath stood there, blood pouring from his mouth; a tendril impaled straight through his torso.