Into The Deep Pt II

As soon as Wretch and Burden struck ground, the dried tendrils of the nearby vinery began to pull from the rock wall, hissing like vipers as they snapped and lunged for the girls.

“No!” Wretch shouted as the dead greenery ensnared them.

Sensing that something had been caught in its traps, the dragon turned its serpentine, gaunt neck from the attack and towards them. Black, thin hair flung wide and cut through the water in clumps as the upside-down head twitched and drug towards the shore, barely breaking the waves, save for the smiling mouth that was now angled down into the resemblance of a frown.

“Ohhhhh, something preeeeecious. Something g-g-g-good. Should it be mine? I thiiiiink it should,” a haunting voice sang from within the dragon’s slacked mouth as it neared the sisters.

Sol saw the girls struggling and realized the dragon’s focus had shifted to them. Uneven steps pushed him up so that the water was now only waist-deep. Vines were strangling them, pulling them splayed open as they screamed. Along the dragon’s underside, Sol could now see the hundreds of hands clamouring across the scaled belly. They clawed the air. They clawed at nothing. They clawed at the girls. They jutted from the beast’s skin like unwanted tumors, reaching and pleading for a new prize.

The dragon’s elongated neck reached the shore and raised, fangs waiting.

Sol’s own massive mouth found its throat, and he clamped down, feeling its dead skin peel away like the top layer of a rotten fruit. It howled in agony and retreated its head from the shore, turning back to him just as an explosion of off-white shot out from Sol’s chest.

Wretch and Burden were once again consumed by white nothingness, and the vines screamed out, slacking their restraint from deathly pressure. Within the lake, the burst rotated and exploded outwards, sending slopping, dense blood waves upward like fountains that spewed out onto the soil and drained the basin.

Seeing that his plan had worked and the lake was mostly drained, Sol bent backwards and heaved the colossal beast back down to the drained depths. When both of his hands were free, he made the split-second decision to bring them back to him, even if it meant bringing them closer to the beast. Wind howled between his massive fingers as he swung to sever the ground where they were. Stone and soil split between his raking knuckles, and he swiftly dug beneath the two of them then ripped upwards, tearing the vines away from their mounts as they screeched.

Both girls were freed and once again in his hand.

Heaves of exhaustion shook his entire body and his hand trembled from pain as he held them. She saw that he was covered in as much of his own glowing blood as he was the filth from below. Something in his demeanor was desperate and unspooling.

Torment and terror were triggering the return of memories he didn’t want to feel. Logic was fleeing.

They could run. He knew he could turn right then and try to flee, but the dragon would be upon them in moments. So he accepted the futility of the idea and resigned to descend back into the darkened filth.

“Sol?” Wretch asked in concern.

“Forgive me, small one. Just a little longer. Then you will be safe.”

As he spoke, he knelt and scooped the chunk of stone that was still attached to his ankle. Down below, he saw the monster’s hair begin to float as it finally rotated upright. Bones snapped into place as joints realigned to purpose.

He had always loathed such creatures. Loathing was not something he embraced, but it was there in his mind when he’d first beheld their ruination all those ages ago. They were base, simple creatures made of the most simplified forms of desire. Worst of all, he could feel the corrupted calls of his own spirit from within them when he sensed them finding joy in destruction and hoarding. They were false, and deserved no mercy.

Wretch saw the white in his eyes flicker to vermillion once again, and his face bent into something frightening that she did not wish to see. Firelight cracked and ignited in the gaps between the dragon’s scales as it slowly woke from its long stupor, returning to its true rage in a last desperate effort for survival.

The clouds retreated briefly, as though not even they wished to watch the hate that was to come.

Hums built in his hands and chest and also from the beast below, and Burden crawled behind her sister.

Sol looked down at his prey as it stood.

“I never f-f-f-found joy in violence. But I know many did…”

His voice had detuned and dropped. It was layering upon itself as though calling in shattered versions of the same soul that no longer properly aligned. In his hand, she felt the pulses of bright red and felt it pull the bottom of her throat downward. She could still breathe, but she almost didn’t want to. This felt wrong. Very wrong.

The dragon ignited in sapphire flames, and the smile finally faded from its lips. But the smile on Sol’s face seemed far more terrifying.

Droning, empty noise filled the air. Reality sang out in solemn acceptance that goodness was going to briefly vanish from the world. Sol’s neck snapped in resistance as the light reached his jaw, but he stood in place as though knowing he had to accept.

“Look away,” he muttered to the sisters, who both closed their eyes and buried their heads against his palm as he closed his fingers over them.

His focus settled on the beast and the vermillion consumed him.

“I will make an exception for you, ancient accursed one. I will find joy in ending you.”

It roared and clawed upwards just as he jumped down and landed hard into its chest. The massive stone struck its sternum, cracking it and sending them both into the remnant wastes.

The putrid bloodlake didn’t break anymore. Waves weren’t fluid; they were tears of long black seams that opened and folded over themselves. It was thick. Heavy. Dirty and stale. It stank of death and sins that refused to be forgotten.

Within his hand, Wretch heard something like horns. Even though her eyes were closed, red light burned through her sealed lids, painting the back of her mind with malice as the entire realm seemed to fill with Sol’s thundering, hysterical laughter. She could feel their cage swinging side to side as his shoulders rotated. Impact shocks raged through his arm, into his wrist and hand. By the sound of it, the shocks were coming from his other fist striking the beast like war weaponry.

Fire built in its throat and Sol stared straight at the light.

“YES! YES! Show me what I want!! For I want nothing more than to rip your soul from its moorings, you foul beast!!” Sol shouted.

Ethereal blue flame exploded out, and Sol roared as it scorched his skin. Something as ancient as a dragon could truly harm him. With enough effort, it could end him. But he didn’t care. He waited for its mouth to open fully, all the while keeping the sisters out of harm’s way.

Hinges dislodged the jaw and the beast prepared for its full inferno.

But Sol did not.

He raised the stone upwards with a mad yell, and slammed it into the opening with all of his strength.

Wretch heard the sickening crunch, and everything went quiet. For a moment.

Then, another animalistic grunt sounded out, and another surge of vermillion went through his hand. There was another crunch, followed by the sound of oozing steam that plopped heavy into the water.

Then another crunch.

Then another.

Then another.

Wretch watched the vermillion flicker erratically in his palm and found herself unwell at the sounds.

Swings and slams continued, and she heard his grunts devolve into sobs. It lasted for a minute, until all his strength was depleted.

“Sol?” she whispered.

But this time he did not respond.

It was not until the littlest one softly touched his finger and gently repeated his name did he stop. Mania dissipated, and he realized what he had done.

“L-little ones. I am very sorry…” he muttered in shame.

Remnants of flesh drooped from his hand as he awkwardly reached for stability. Shaking legs lifted him and he turned away from the felled beast without a word.

When Wretch dared to look, she saw nothing but a heap of mangled bone and meat bent inward against itself. A few isolated hands still clawed at the air as life slowly faded from them as well, but the great dragon was reduced to near nothingness. Once more, she found herself afraid with awe at the titan that was now so gently holding them.

Vermillion faded, but the white didn’t return.

Each step felt like a negotiation with the sloping ground. Nothing was stable, so it took him a moment to exit the lake. When they finally reached the shore and he heaved himself up, the vines did not return their attack. Instead, they were all hanging lifeless and silent as well.

Slow, wounded breaths pulled air into his lungs and burned along his fractured ribs. But they had to keep moving. They were tainted.

His feet awkwardly moved forward, and Wretch found herself reaching for him before catching herself.

“Sol, you need to rest.”

He shook his head.

“No. We must find true water and bathe.”

“We are fine. We are used to being disgusting,” Wretch began to challenge.

But his voice boomed, and she flinched.

“You will become dangerously sick if you keep like this!”

His tone was wounded and nervous. Not bitter or angry. Only concerned. Wretch decided it was best not to challenge, and accepted that he was likely right. Such filth carried disease and if they weren’t careful, they would be dead in days. So she sat down and resolved to search for some manner of clean water. As much as she wanted to stay miserable to stay safe, she acknowledged that rinsing this filth and any memory of this night from her would be a welcome cleaning.