Fool Me Once

Cannons opened fire from another hill. Iron volleys whizzed through dusty bone fog, barely circulating it. They landed silently. But dust spoke. It swirled into a high swarm before funneling into a lance tornado launched at the cannonade. Guns flung, swirled high. One flew behind Kurl.

“Frederika!”

The falling cannon slammed into the dirt. Wooden base slid next to Adam’s dugout. Barrel helicoptered sideways into a dead tree. Half a gunner came with it. Tarnish chain slapped a rain of soaking innards as it spun in front of her. Intestines burped thick greenish bile across the invisible shield over her head.

Steel slashed through naked vertebrae. But the spinal columns, tensed, then crunched as they fused. Shorter skeletons didn’t take a rest, swords swung and shields bashed, forcing her back.

Roxanne roared, kicked a shield, and smashed the axe through their skulls like an executioner, one by one. The headless ones moved with little initiative, as if someone controlled many with a single string. A wide swing sliced through their hips. Shards exploded in every direction as bone warriors fell. Her muscles flexed as the swirling axe caught several. One projectile struck her hardened bicep; it popped out of a shallow wound with a single flex.

An overlord, Kurl thought, shivering. But it’s still one vampire. With enough damage, it breaks. Several projectiles formed an arc. He ducked underneath them, then shifted upright with his fist raised.

“You think you’re the only one with limitless ammo?! I control this entire sky! Your playing field belongs to me!”

A massive whirlwind swirled over white mist. The tail plunged into a formation of skeletons, shredding them while the vortex deposited bone dust like a vacuum. Once it faded, a large pile held suppressed beneath a coat of zinnian. Skeletal shards shuddered, failing to lift against the coating.

A plate of fused white polished ivory held the armored boots of the vampire warrior. A suit of chain-linked teeth protected his torso. Silver-colored hair flowed from a fully closed helm of molded bone carved into a troll skull. Every joint flowed with chain linked human teeth. Everywhere else, solid armor was carved thick and reinforced into layers. A shield of musty skull tops dangled worn hairs of gray, brown, blonde, and black. The other hand gripped an enormous pike with a sharped tip. Canines and incisors lined his glove’s worked flesh.

Kurl frowned, “Shit.”

But the shot didn’t come. He hadn’t given the signal, but he knew his sniper waited. The initiative would be taken when an opening appeared. But for now, the rifle held its peace because there was no clean chance.

The vampire gathered floating shards. Meanwhile, they played mana tug of war on the ground, bones jittered against the pressure blanket while Kurl struggled to hold it.

The bone spear swung, twirled, then thrust at Kurl, but it never left the vampire’s hand. Kurl flinched, dodging nothing desperately. The force vector shifted sideways. A spray of bone shards spread like a circular saw over the grass.

“Roxanne!”

She jumped, but underneath deadly matter sprayed, given intense velocity by Kurl’s force pressing it like a vice. Mana drained as he wrapped her in an arm of current and tossed her on the hill besides Frederika.

A raspy laugh, old and withered, yet princely, broke through the bone helm.

Kurl caught his balance and flew with his fist out. Mana over intensified. The overheating almost dropped him. The sigil glowed a bright blue over his neck. This stupid seal didn’t know why he was getting serious! Numerous small formations of concentrated zinnian boomed in multiple trajectories at and around his target, but the vampire dodged. Zinnian projectiles burst disposable skeleton pieces before dispersing to reconcentrate at his will. They attacked from behind, the sides, the front, every direction at once.

“Let’s see that ugly face of yours!”

Sharpened bone struck from underneath. The pieces shattered against Kurl’s flight plates. A sharpened forearm stabbed for the neck. It burst into pieces against a reinforced punch. Remains blew outside his shield.

Several deep breaths stretched the full capacity of his lungs.

The vampire stretched his arm as invitation, “Mage, I see that sigil glowing on your neck. I see the thread of your life thinning before me.”

Shards flew like living creatures. They shot against his barrier from all directions. But they broke against amplified pressure, got stuck in it, and shot back to rejoin their master’s arsenal. Kurl coughed hard as his shield hissed to reform as a front wall. Distortions formed. He couldn’t hold it. The wall compressed into tight spheres.

“I see the honor with which you defend companions who can’t defend themselves against real power. Let me savor your blood. I’ll bring you into a world where such things hold no sway.”

Kurl spit some of the blood his target wished to savor, “Go to hell.”

It laughed, “I see what you strive for.”

A figure in a heavy fire suit flew from the surface. The gas mask slid to release waves of blonde hair. Bright blue eyes filled with tears that streamed into her flight path. Outstretched arms reached for an embrace. She passed every defense because he let her. Burn scars ran down her neck. Her right hand was withered with severe scars. What had they done to her? Those bastards. He’d make everyone of them regret it! Zinnia touched his neck quietly, with a gentle reassuring pat from slender fingers. Skin split open.

“Kurl!” Roxanne screamed, “Snap out of it!”

The illusion melted into a skeletal torso. Withered blonde hair topped a battered skull. Broken arms were sharpened at the tip. Sharpness sliced into his exterior jugular vein under his ear. It slid out to cut deeper. A blast of zinnian shattered the torso. His blood drizzled over the hill.

Rifle sights trained on the vampire. A splatter of red covered the lens. Adam’s hurriedly wiped the glass with a torn cloth, then again with shaking hands to eliminate the smearing. If this continued, he’d have to take his chances with the armor. He shifted the sights to see his captain dripping blood down his unform. A drop from his boot struck the top of Adam’s head like spit. He shifted back to the vampire. The rifle shook, quaked, so he breathed deeply and gently until it steadied.

From this height, the barriers and armor blocked his sot. He needed exposed flesh, or the silver tip wouldn’t hold after the first strike. Hands returned to trembling.

They wouldn’t stop.