Spineripper

If I dreamt that night, I do not remember. All I know is that I woke the next morning feeling very much as though I had forgotten something important. The harder I tried to think about it, the farther it seemed to fade into the misty depths of my unconscious mind. Eventually, it sank away into darkness.

I slowly sat upright. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but the eastern horizon had greyed in anticipation of its arrival. Dew coated the grass and leaves. A chill breeze wound its way through the village, now silent after all the revelry had faded. I shivered.

I was stiff and damp after having spent the night sleeping in a patch of grass on the edge of town. Lynessa had eventually gone into the church to sleep, but I had decided to spend the night outdoors under the stars. I’d never really gotten outside much back in my home dimension, so I decided to give it a shot here. New beginnings and all.

It had been worth it, to my memory. The night was beautiful, the stars splayed across the horizon like droplets of water that shimmered in the sun. Seeing them, I wondered if Earth was out there somewhere, whether this was truly another dimension or just a different world half a universe away. I pondered other things too, namely about myself and Atlas, about if we could return home and what would happen if we did. Would Atlas still be able to speak? Would time have passed, or would we return to the exact same moment that we had left? I was determined to return home, not only for my sake but for the sake of Atlas too, but the possibility that we would be able to dwindled with each day that passed.

One final question popped into my mind before sleep overtook me. If we were not able to escape, if all of our efforts failed, would there be a place for us in this world?

I stood and stretched, feeling my back pop as I bent over. I stepped over Ser Erik as he slumbered in the bushes on my way back into the center of town. It was silent, save for the rustling of branches in the wind.

A lonesome bird’s call marked the beginning of true dawn. I picked my way through the center of town, eventually reaching my truck. The bearskin in the truck bed where Atlas had slept was empty. I looked around town, and over a few of the nearby hills, but found nothing. Atlas was truly gone.

As I trudged back into town the sun crested the eastern hills, painting the sky in streaks of pink and orange. I passed by my truck again in the vain hope that Atlas had returned. He had not. I turned to leave, but froze when I saw a flicker in the corner of my eye.

I turned my head slowly, eyes widening as I began to realize that what I was seeing was not some waking dream. A demon crouched beside the truck, one of the scaly, snub-nosed grunts that we had fought when I first came to Daletopia, only this one bore the marking of a red skull painted on its shoulder. It sat, transfixed, eyes glued to the Demonlords horns which adorned the front of my truck. It reached up a clawed hand to touch it.

“Help!” I shouted, “Demons! Demons in the town!”

The demon’s head snapped towards me. It bared its fangs and screamed. It quickly closed the distance, putting itself between me and my truck.

I had no other options. Atlas had abandoned me and I couldn’t reach my truck, not without getting past the demon. I’d tried fighting one once, but that had turned out poorly, I had to run. I sprinted back into the town square, finding Ser Erik sleeping exactly where I’d seen him last. I shook him awake.

“Huh, wha–?” He asked groggily.

“Demons!” I shouted, “Demons in the tow–”

I was cut off as a massive weight slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. The demon had finally caught up. Ser Erik sat up quickly, unsheathing his sword. Steel rang as the blade came free, glowing blue in the still morning air. Arthur must have heard me shouting because he sat up from where he slumbered outside the church.

The demon, realizing that it now faced three adversaries instead of one, turned tail and ran. Ser Erik stumbled as he attained his feet.

Arthur pointed at me, “Quickly, we have to be after it!” He reached for his bow and grasped at air. His eyes widened.

“We have to stop it!” Ser Erik shouted, “It’s a scout! They’re scouting us for an attack!” He didn’t bother reaching for his bow. I dimly remembered that the priest had confiscated it from him the night prior. Instead, the knight drew back his arm and flung his sword. The blade came within inches of the demon, bouncing off a stone wall just as the demon rounded a corner.

I ran to the alley the demon had ducked down. It appeared empty.

I returned to the town’s center. Lynessa and the priest appeared from the church’s entrance.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, “We heard shouting.”

“Demons,” said Ser Erik, “A scout by the looks of it. He got away.”

Arthur kicked Imalor in the side.

The dwarf flailed his arms, “I’m up, I’m up!”

“You’re too dense a sleeper.” Arthur snapped, “A demon attack couldn’t wake you!”

“Demons?” Shouted Imalor, “Where? Let them try to face the Demonslayer of Carcinex!” He leapt to his feet, brandishing his spear as if he expected demons to come crawling out from behind the church.

“You’ve missed them.” Arthur said.

“Well,” said Imalor, “I must have scared them off.” He spat on the ground. “Bloody cowards, those lot.”

“How long do we have before the main force arrives?” Lynessa asked.

“That depends on how closely they’re camped,” replied Arthur, he motioned to the priest, “My bow?”

“Oh, yes.” The priest shuffled back into the church, returning a second later with Arthur and Ser Erik’s bows. They accepted them gratefully.

“They can’t be far, not if they’re only sending out a single scout.” Said Ser Erik, “They must already have a good idea of what they’re getting into.”

Arthur nodded, “And did you see the marking on that one? It bore the red skull.”

“One of Spineripper’s goons.” Ser Erik said, his face grim. He turned to me. “What was the scout doing when you saw it? What precisely was it looking for?”

“It was looking at my truck.” I said.

Ser Erik rubbed his chin. “Bring it here. Quickly. It’s possible Spineripper knows the power of that weapon. It may be that he’s trying to disable it before the fight can begin.”

I ran back to my truck and drove it to the town square. Imalor and Ser Erik had begun setting up hasty battlements around the entrance to the church while Arthur and Lynessa were herding townspeople inside. It seemed as though this would be the place to make our stand.

“Spineripper.” I asked, “Who’s he?”

Imalor raised an eyebrow, “He used to be the Demonlord’s right-hand general, before you killed the old goat. Seems like he’d be the one to take the Demonlord’s place, but last we heard the demons had all scattered.”

“Some intel.” I said dryly.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Ser Erik added, “There was a schism among the demon generals after the Demonlord died. They couldn’t decide who should lead them next. We’d hoped that it would mean the demons would never rise to power again.”

“But Spineripper is still out there?” I asked.

“They all are.” Ser Erik responded, “But Spineripper’s the worst. He slaughtered dozens of villages in his quest to subjugate the elves and put the grand city of Emis to the torch when we banded together to retake it.”

“They say he uses the skull of his own father, still attached by the spine, as a mace.” Said Imalor, “And that he rips out the spines of those he defeats in battle to add to his grisly collection.”

In the distance, war horns began to blare. My stomach sank.

“He’s the one we have to fight.” I said, more to myself. I was having a difficult time coming to terms with the situation.

“I know it doesn’t look good.” Ser Erik said, “We’ve never defeated Spineripper on the field of battle before. We had to wait until he was preoccupied on the southern front to engage the Demonlord himself. But now we have you, Legendary Hero. He’s never faced the power of the truck before, you are our best hope of winning.”

Great. So all of our hopes rested on my shoulders again. This time, I didn’t even have my tiger, and I was expected to defeat this unbeatable demon general? I threw up in my mouth.

Arthur walked up beside us. Lynessa soon followed.

“Hang back until you see Spineripper himself,” Ser Erik advised, “Our best chance will be to cut off the head of the beast. His soldiers should scatter soon after.”

I nodded. Any plan that didn’t have me swarmed by demons sounded like a good plan to me. All I had to do was hit one guy with a truck. I’d done it before with the Demonlord, I could do it again with one of his lowly generals.

I backed the truck away, in the opposite direction of the call of the war horns. I parked the truck on a low hill just outside town that gave me vantage at the front entrance to the church. The Heroes had assembled behind their makeshift defenses. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves.

I saw what looked like ants marching through the streets of the town, slowly combing the outer edges until they surrounded it completely. I looked on as they slowly advanced, encircling the heroes. These demons did not appear to be like the other we fought before, attacking in a savage wave of claws and teeth. These demons wielded spears and marched in lines.

Flashes came from the entrance to the church. Lightning spiked into the waves of demons, but the lines held firm and the advance continued. For as effective as Lynessa’s magic was, the demons had the numbers and they were well aware of that fact.

I squinted, trying to discern Spineripper among the advancing lines. It occurred to me that I didn’t know who I was looking for. I looked for a mace made out of a skull. No luck.

The demons had reached the defenses. They attacked in waves, breaking apart on the Heroes’ counterattacks. But every time a wave of demons was repelled, I saw at least one spearhead sneak through their guard. Imalor was hit first, then Ser Erik, then Imalor again. On the fourth attack, two spears managed to punch through at the same time, one breaking Arthur’s guard while the other hit him square in the chest.

I scanned the horde one final time, but I still couldn’t identify Spineripper. But neither could I just sit here and watch the Heroes die! I’d already let down Atlas, I wasn’t about to do it again. I fired up the engine and streaked down the hill and into the fray.

The demon lines, which had been so coordinated in their attack, crumpled as I hit them from behind, flattening close to a dozen as I blasted down the narrow city streets. I skidded to a halt in front of the Honoured Heroes.

“Which one is Spineripper?” I shouted over the roar of the engine.

“He’s not here!” Ser Erik shouted back.

Laughter echoed from down the street. The demon lines parted, making way for a tall, dark figure. Spineripper had the black scales of a demon, with a surprisingly human face, though gaunt and hollow, like his skin was pulled tight against his skull. His eyes were a vacant, cloudy white, not the usual red of his brethren. He unslung a mace on a long chain and let its head drag on the ground as he walked. I gulped. The head of the mace was an oversized skull with metal spikes pounded through it.

“Dale, is it?” He asked. His voice boomed throughout the square. “You are the one who killed the Demonlord?”

“Yeah!” I shouted back at him, “And now I’m gonna kill you too!”

I didn’t wait for him to respond. I slammed on the gas, urging the truck to accelerate with all of my being.

“Come on.” I muttered to myself. This had worked before. It had better work again.

I closed the distance in a heartbeat. I braced for impact. A sudden jerk shook me in my seat and then I was airborne. My eyes widened in shock. Spineripper swung his mace around again, landing another savage hit on the side of my truck. The side of the truck bent inwards, screeching as the metal spikes of the mace punched through the cab’s door.

The impact was jarring. The organs in my chest shook as the truck slammed into the ground sideways and skidded to a halt. I unbuckled my seatbelt and crawled out the broken windshield. The demons rushed forwards towards the church.

I crawled away, blood pounding in my ears. All I could do was put one arm in front of the other. I managed to make it to a nearby alley, hiding myself behind a small pile of building rubble. Spineripper walked up to the truck and bent down near the front of it. He examined it with great interest.

“You, take second platoon and carry this back to the lair.” He pointed at one of the demons who was garbed in a red sash, the demon nodded and a section of the demon ranks broke off and lifted the truck above their heads. They began marching back to the west.

“The rest of you, follow me.” Spineripper snapped, “We have business in the southern reaches.”

“But General,” another red-shashed demon protested, “What of the mortals?”

“Leave them, Captain.” Spineripper said, “Most look too weak to prove a threat, and I relish an opportunity to test our might against Folona’s armies once more.” The demon captain nodded deferentially.

“You’ll never win!” Shouted Arthur. He was lying on the ground, his head in Lynessa’s arms. The wound on his chest looked bad.

Spineripper smiled. “Oh? And are you going to stop me?” He laughed. It wasn’t a maniacal cackle, just a slow, dark chuckle that hinted at a barely restrained hatred that burned deep within. “Let me show you how I got my name, elf.”

He strode forward with three quick steps. Ser Erik leapt to stop him but one swing of his mace flung him aside. Imalor soon followed. Lynessa shrunk back, frozen in horror as Spineripper lifted Arthur up by the throat with a single hand. The other dug into the back of the elf’s skull.

Lynessa screamed. Spineripper jerked his hand and I closed my eyes. I was not fast enough. The image of Arthur’s desiccated body falling away remained burned into my mind for hours afterward.