Death Shall Not Be Defeat

When they saw the beast that had saved them, they wanted to scream.

Horned and wild. Mutilated and grotesque. Massive and imposing. This was not the hero of light they’d imagined. Two frightening orbs of light cut out from his damaged skull, casting their radiance onto the survivors as he quickly scanned them.

Without speaking, he set them down and continued to work. Another titanic being, also terrifying in her own pale, antlered menace, stepped to them. That was when they saw their tribemates. Wretch waved to them, and Burden smiled in relief.

“My son! My son is still in there!” one of them cried.

He was already digging again. Only now could they fully appreciate his intimidating mass. Even the barren mature trees seemed like nothing more than saplings compared to his size as he squatted and began to rip more earth away. He grimaced and grunted as he heaved soil chunks from the ground, pulling more of them out.

Then the wanderers burst out of the dirt, rushing for the recently rescued. They screamed as their mutated loved ones darted forward with hateful snarls. But then he roared, and his fist slammed down, crushing the attackers instantly and leaving them as nothing more than smeared heaps of pulp and lost memories.

They screamed and wept, but they understood. The frightening female god knelt to scoop them up while he continued his task.

“My son. Please. Please. Please,” the mother begged.

He was bleeding from his back and head and wrists as he groaned from the effort, but he didn’t stop. He accelerated.

“Save them. Save them. Save them all,” he muttered to himself in prayer.

Shouts ceased, and silence returned. The mother cried to herself, and Wretch jumped down to comfort her. It wasn’t an act she would usually do, but she found herself wanting to be there for her tribemate. She watched Sol grimace as he toiled with animalistic fury.

Then the child choked from his hands, alive and in shock.

A few dripping, bent arms reached out from the soil like worms, and he heard the laughing, so he left them there. The child coughed to life in his palm and the mother rushed to the god’s side to see her boy. Dozens had survived, and they all gasped in relief and inhaled as much stale yet welcome air as they could.

The child saw his mother running towards him, and he began to laugh in joy. They were both alive. Emotion overwhelmed logic, and relief turned to joy for her as well. They met one another just as lightning struck in the far distance.

Wretch registered the threat of their laughter too late.

“No! Don’t feel good!” she shouted as she rushed to them.

Sol understood as well and tried to scoop the boy back into his hand to separate them, but the mother fiercely grabbed the boy and squeezed him close. They both laughed more as they began to cry. Veins rose along fur. Voices dropped in tone and pitch. Another bolt crashed behind the mountain.

“Stop! Don’t laugh! Don’t feel joy!!” Wretch screamed as she reached them.

Her paws reached for them, and the mother’s neck snapped as her head rotated around fully without her shoulders shifting. Pupils blew wide with delirious hate as the tendons snapped, causing her head to fall to the side as she wept and laughed some more. Wretch screamed in terror as the mother began to turn.

Tiny paw digits spasmed, and the child vomited something black and cursed onto his mother’s womb. Fur turned to glass and smoke. Teeth elongated into blades. He began to laugh as he ripped her tunic away, exposing her long-neglected chest. Claws extended, and he began to claw at her breast while chuckling in unsteady rhythms.

“Miiiiilllk. Millllllkkkkk. Miiiiilllk!” he squealed.

They both laughed and began to crawl towards Wretch, who had fallen onto her hips in shock. The rest of the tribe finally saw what was happening and began to panic as they all climbed up Grief’s dirty garments.

Then Sol’s knuckles were there with a swiftness that shifted the wind and a force that shifted the soil just beyond Wretch’s legs. Force from the impact threw her into the air ever so slightly, and she felt a warm spray across her toes as the ones she’d known for years were reduced to little more than mist.

Thunder mocked their plight.

Sol slumped to his knees as he slowly calmed. Wretch started to choke, and a burn in her throat told her vomit was coming. So she locked her jaw and breathed as the torrent of refuse and bile tore upwards. When it met her tongue, it was metallic and warm, but she swallowed it down and kept her composure as unwanted tears bit at her eyes. She couldn’t cry. Not in front of them. Not in front of her.

Sol noticed. Quietly and subtly, he eyed her and saw the lurches in her throat as her chest rose swiftly and her eyes blinked faster and more than usual.

“I am sorry,” he whispered.

She almost nodded.

“So am I,” was all she could say as she forced herself onto her feet and faced the survivors.

“There is nothing left for us here! But my sister and I have returned with the Lightbringer and the one known as Grief! He knows the way to the soul portals, just as I thought. I have asked him to take us there to let us end our lives and he has agreed! Our salvation is at hand. Soon this world’s wickedness will not be able to hurt us any longer. Extinction will be our escape!” Wretch called as she faced her family.

Sol stood behind her, silent and horrifying, yet protective and still. His face was soft to them, even when they feared to look. Wretch waited to see if anyone would challenge her anymore, or if her proposition was finally to be accepted by everyone. She hadn’t wanted this. Neither had he. But she stepped into his palm, and it felt gentle and she believed he would keep his word. Her gaze settled on Burden, and she almost started to cry once more, but then his fingertips pulsed orange, and she felt strong.

“Tonight, we set out for oblivion. By whatever strength I have, I will see you all to your ends, you have my word. I will not fail you again,” Sol said as he bowed to the quiet little ones.