Demon Seige: The Epoch

By Dakarai Jelani-Miller

For Strigoli Desmone, power is everything. A creature of cunning and ruthless ambition, he has found a way to make himself a god and he will stop at nothing to achieve his goals.
Horus Humanae hunts him, determined to exact revenge for his past actions and Strigolis dementia. As he nears closer to his enemy, he realizes that its only a small step to become like him.
Damon Pierce is a police detective hunting an up and coming drug dealer. The deeper he gets in this case, the more he realizes that theres more at stake than just stopping a drug dealer.
From the swamps of Louisana, to the city of Los Angeles Demon Seige is the first part of the larger story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 26, 2002
• ISBN: 9781465333025

Dakarai Jelani-Miller

Dakarai Jelani-Miller is an Air Force veteran who has done a variety of things in his lifetime including: mold estimator, tattoo designer, and work for a radio station. As a writer, he released Demon Seige in 2002 and won the Editor’s Award for Poetry in 1997 from the National Library of Poetry. Born to military parents, he has lived in Alaska, Florida and spent time in Germany before coming back to the States and joining the Air Force. An avid traveler, he is residing in Maryland for the moment, working on the sequel to Demon Seige and revamping the 1994 manuscript Penis Envy, as well designs for a new website and attending college full time. Anybody can reach him by emailing him at [e-mail] While he may not answer your email right away, he will get back to you as promptly as possible.

Book preview

Copyright © 2002 by Dakarai Jelani-Miller.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any

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or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing

from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to

any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

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Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

EPILOGUE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

FOR THE PEOPLE WHO ARE ALWAYS THERE, REGARDLESS IF I GET A CHANCE TO GET IN TOUCH OR NOT. FOR THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN ON THE ROAD WITH ME, AND STILL GET A LAUGH OUT OF STUPID SHIT. FOR THE PEOPLE WHO DO THEIR OWN THINGS, NO MATTER WHO TRIES TO BRING THEM DOWN. FOR THE BARFLIES WHO I DRINK WITH, THE SOLDIERS I MARCH WITH, AND THE CATS THAT WANT TO BE THERE NO MATTER THE OUTCOME. YOU ALL KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

PROLOGUE

In his bed, Horus Humanae slept the sleep of the damned, tossing so slightly he did not even rouse his mortal wife Rachel. And in his sleep, he dreamed of life and death, light and darkness, the things that would always be left unexplained in the world of the mortals. Outside his room, lightening flared and the rain beat against the window with secret whispers. The trees shook as the wind wailed through their skeleton arms.

Humanae awoke, his gray eyes wide and disturbed. He sat up in bed carefully, not waking his wife. Something, he realized as he slid out of bed, is very wrong. Everything, even the air felt unreal, dead. He moved to a small closet with the relative speed of a jungle cat and opened it with deft fingers. He pulled out the one thing he knew would help him as he made his way through this seemingly surreal realm: his sword. It was a katana, over eight hundred years old, with an ivory hilt that was hand carved. The hilt told of a story of a man facing his inner

Humanae made his way downstairs, towards the living room, all his senses heightened. He held the sword in his right hand, his left held out as if to feel the walls to seek passage in to the dark rooms. Truth be known, like all of his kindred, Humanae had perfect vision, and the night gave his immortal eyes no pause.

As he passed the dining room, he froze, alert as a doe. His eyes locked onto the dark woman leaving out of the patio. He stopped in surprise. At first, he had thought he was being paranoid. But now . . .

Stop where you are. he commanded in a deep voice. Normally, any thief would be unnerved by such a deep low voice. But this woman kept going, her stride, fast but calm. Unhurried. Cursing, Humanae took after her as she made her way into the nearby woods in his backyard. He knew he must look mad, a large man wearing only pajama bottoms carrying a sword. But it didn’t matter. Not then.

They plunged deeper and deeper into the woods, the woman’s stride keeping Humanae always two or three feet behind, but was always in sight. The thought of a possible ambush made him even more wary as he moved past low hanging branches; skipped over the fallen branches and exposed roots.

He charged into a clearing and stopped dead. Around him, as still as the midnight air, were four stone statues.

All of them people he had known. And killed.

There was no one.

I thought I would remind you of all the death that seems to revolve around you, Humanae. My perfect masterpiece. There was a break in the shadowy voice as Strigoli unleashed his dry chuckle. All this death caused in the name of goodness and harmony. Behold!! Humanae began to circle around the opening, his senses ready. He came up the statue of a wizened old man, the features puckered in eternal annoyance. Humanae’s eyes narrowed to deadly triangles as he recognized his first deadly enemy, the wizard Lotus.

The statue exploded and Humanae threw his arms in front of his face to protect himself. The voice laughed as Humanae moved to the center of the opening. You see? the voice asked. You have the soul of an animal. A killer. Why fight what you are? Why pursue me? We’re the same.

Really? What makes you better than me? Humanae called out. What gives you the right to choose who lives or dies?

I do.

The ground underneath Humanae exploded. He was pitched forward, landing in front of a statue. He looked up, dazed and angered. It was a large man, an ax held proudly in both hands. The scar running down the perfectly chiseled face told him whom.

Olin. A self-proclaimed god and murderer. But it was not Humanae who had dealt the killing blow. In fact . . .

The statue of Strigoli, with his curved blade, suddenly surged forward. Humanae whirled away as the blade cut into empty air. Humanae circled around the thing, grinning coldly, his eyes alight with rage. C’mon, he hissed, beckoning with one finger and a savage grin. Come here.

The statue charged again, swinging the blade wildly. Humanae leapt up, and for one brief moment, he flew like an angel.

But, he thought as gravity claimed him again, even angels fall.

He let out a cry of passion, and his katana, his only weapon, bit into the thing’s head, moving down easily as it bit into the earth between its legs. The amalgam of Strigoli looked at Humanae for eternal seconds, its face contorted in a rictus of surprise and fury.

It fell apart, crumbling to dust at Humanae’s bare feet.

You’re as good as ever, Ozymandius. The voice seemed to sneer. Humanae glared up at the now gray sky when the derogatory name was whispered. And you’re still a cowardly piece of shit. Humanae growled. Ooh, such language. The voice cooed. I wonder what will it take to make you more unstable than you already are . . . the death of a loved one?

A statue grew from the ground like an alien life form. Humanae took one-step back, sword up and poised. His eyes widened in shock and he gasped.

It was a statue of Rachel.

show you! Let me show you my dreams!!

The woman seemed to materialize out of nothingness, her face and body robed in shadow. Only her fine alabaster hand visible, motioning for him to follow. Humanae looked around, his eyes growing darker and darker. He sighed, and began to follow.

As they came through the open, Humanae ten paces behind for protection. It began to snow and he looked up as the flakes fell onto his skin. It melted, but there was no cold. Humanae frowned as the once green ground became frosted, the white.

He stepped into the opening, figuring he’d see more statues.

But it was a playground. A child’s playground; at that, now old and rusted. Humanae slowly moved up to a small horse with a small spring securing it to the ground. He gingerly touched the cracked and old white face, his mind racing.

You still don’t get it, do you?

The voice came from his left and he whirled around to see Strigoli, hanging upside down on a set of monkey bars. He was as devilish as ever: his pale chocolate skin, short, almost nonexistent hair, and the palest ice blue eyes peering into Humanae’s, peering into his soul. Get what? Humanae asked, sword held down besides his left leg. Strigoli grinned, exposing fangs, the predatory grin giving nothing away but telling everything.

What you think of as spontaneous is madness, Humanae replied calmly, even as his rage was building. Why did you bring me to this playground?

You don’t get it. There was a forlorn sigh, and Strigoli leapt off the monkey bars and landing like a cat. He stretched his arms out, and laughed. This playground is our past, our future! A world where innocence is a fond memory and madness is ruled by me. This will be the greatest historical event since humans became intelligent. The demon put his hands behind his back, and proceeded to move up to his enemy. A world where nothing is taboo and where my slightest whims are fulfilled. Strigoli looked up at the gray sky, the black clouds obscuring the sun. The snow hit his face and melted away in an instant while it clung to Humanae. This will be my world, the demon said triumphantly, and sighed contentedly.

Enough of this. Humanae proclaimed, and closed the mere feet distance between them, swinging his sword in a broad stroke. It connected with the shade, which dispersed like so much smoke. Humanae took a step back, still surprised at the imago’s destruction. It felt good, actually. This was probably the closest he’d get to his mortal enemy for a long, long time.

A hand grasped his shoulder and whirled him around. The cold smile of Strigoli, the maddened eyes shined upon him like the most hideous of lights. Strigoli slowly raised his left hand, which was balled incoherent, Humanae looked around the room in surprise. It was all a dream? He put his face in his hands, felt the warm sweat. All a dream?

He couldn’t accept that.

Not even if it took a lifetime.

Warm arms encircled his chest, and he stiffened momentarily. Sensing his tension, Rachel spoke. You all right, Humanae? her voice was tinged with love and concern. It thawed the icy hands of apprehension around his heart. He relaxed, and looked over to her, a small smile on his stubbled face . . .

Strigoli sat up behind her, a knowing smirk on his face.

NO ! Humanae shouted, leaping out of the bed, fist flying. He swung, found himself swinging at thin air and crashing to the floor of his New Orleans bedroom, the wood cool against his burning skin. Another dream?! His mind raced to accept the possibility.

What the hell is with you, Humanae? his wife’s voice made his turn and look up to see her standing up in the bed, naked, her arms akimbo. Her usually pleasant face showed the signs of love, annoyance, concern . . . fear. Although she knew about his immortality, his life as one, she couldn’t fully accept it. Nor could she fully realize it’s consequences.

Humanae shook away dark thoughts, and looked up at her with a wan smile. I’m sorry, baby. Bad dream.

mind’s been working overtime. It happens on these cases."

She frowned against his chest. He rarely mentioned work. Being a colored private detective in such times was not only dangerous, but stressful. The cops harassed him, as did the mayor, but Humanae was rich, and very business minded. It kept him safe. Somewhat. She looked up at him. Maybe you should consider not taking this case, she said softly, and his arms tightened around her as he shook his head. Eight children missing in the swamp in two weeks. It’s causing panic. And now that little white girl’s gone, too. It’s getting worse and worse, baby.

It’s not your concern. Somebody’s probably going to call for ransom. Rachel said hopefully, but they both knew it was more. Far more.

Even if this was a regular case, Humanae said, how much time do we all have until the police decide to start ‘interrogating’ us all? He looked down at her, and she could see the concern in those too human gray eyes. This is a matter strictly for my kind.

Immortals?

All super naturals. Humanae answered. Cain thinks that some of the swamp ghosts may appear to help us. The slaying of children disturbs all manners of life. Rachel looked into his eyes, and her own narrowed. And what do you think? Humanae looked at her uncertainly. He’d told her about Strigoli, his madness, and their hatred of each other.

he’s capable of, even under minor circumstances. Besides, I may be wrong. There is Waller, and he has a thing for young children."

Rachel looked at him sadly and shook her head. But it’s not him. We both know that, she said mournfully, and moved back to the bed. Humanae watched her for a moment: a million conflicting emotions warred on his face. Finally, he moved towards the bed. You can call Xaos, can’t you? Rachel asked, her eyes pleading. Humanae shook his head, and lay next to her. He’s unstable. He’d destroy everything to accomplish his mission. I can’t let something like that loose here.

Why do you think that the injustice’s of the world rest solely on your shoulders? Rachel asked angrily, but Humanae could hear the despair in her voice. His heart broke, and again: as he had always done, silently asked himself why he was chosen. Why he lived this life, lived this turmoil.

And as always, there was no answer. Even now, in the midst of an almost perfect, normal life, he was playing an age-old game. One that would never end, even after he died. But he knew that, just as his beloved knew. Can we just drop the subject? Humanae asked in resignation, and put his arms around her. She was still as guarded as she’d been moments ago, stiff and unyielding in his arms. Humanae kissed the nape of her neck, as always, awed by its perfection. I promise, he whispered, light I have in this world. Humanae said without thinking. Nothing’s going to ever change that. If you go somewhere, no matter how long it takes, I will be with you."

At this she started to cry, and turned into his arms, burying her face into smooth muscular flesh. I love you, Horus Humanae. I want you to know that now.

You don’t even have to say it. Humanae whispered back, and kissed her gently on the lips, feeling their fullness, their softness. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her, not wanting to let her go. They moved to the bed that way.

As the rain began to fall in uncoordinated rhythm, Humanae felt her breathing ease and become regulated. She was sleeping. He watched her peaceful face, the look of serenity on her and thanked God for giving him someone to love after so long.

But even as he drifted off to sleep, the fear crept in, unbidden, unbound. And the smell of loss and tears filled the air as the chilling premonition came to him.

The premonition that something bad was about to happen, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Ω

The morning light awoke Humanae, and he yawned. Even though his kind did not need to sleep, making him smile. Breakfast, he thought, and moved towards the kitchen.

It didn’t surprise him that Cain was seated at the kitchen table, long brown hair pulled back into a careless ponytail. In front of him, an empty plate and a cup of steaming coffee. He was laughing like an excited child as Rachel cooked, listening. And so this guy Geffer, he takes Humanae up into the mountains, and while H is climbing up there, he cuts the rope. You should’ve seen it, Ray, he sat in the bar with a bag full of gold, saying how easy it was to kill ‘the bastard’ when ole H walks in, all torn up, two bags of gold in his hands. Geffer just shit a brick, and his heart stopped. It was hilarious. Cain was saying, and took another sip of coffee. He didn’t even notice Humanae until Rachel, without turning around, said, Good morning, hon. You hungry?

Always. Humanae answered, moving to kiss her cheek before sitting at the table. Cain smiled charmingly. Up now? Jesus, you’ve lost it, man.

Enjoy your breakfast, Cain? Humanae asked, leaning towards him. I swear, you’re here every waking moment.

Maybe we should charge him rent. Rachel spoke up, and Humane laughed. Cain looked at them both as Humanae got up and fixed himself breakfast and a cup of strong black coffee. Now is that anything to suggest to an old friend?

Yes, Rachel replied, sitting besides him with her hundred years younger, but one of his most trusted allies. They were an unlikely pair; Cain had long brown hair, eyes the color of autumn leaves, and deeply tanned skin. He was almost impish, with his mischievous nature and cool smile. He liked to live it up: drinking and generally getting into trouble.

And he loved women. One was never enough. There were enough female immortals that could attest to that. He was a charmer, almost roguish those pretty boy rugged features, and the vagabond clothing. But he was also cunning. Smart. One of the best swordsmen that Eden had ever produced. And those were unfortunately few and far between.

Humanae knew without a doubt he could trust Cain with his life.

But he wouldn’t trust him in a game of poker.

So, H, where are we going today? Cain asked, eyebrows raised in wonder. Humanae risked a look a Rachel, who was leaning back in her chair waiting for his answer. Humanae took a generous sip of coffee. Chico’s whorehouse. Waller’s there. I want to ask him a few questions.

You aren’t going to kill him, are you? Cain teased, I mean, I know that you care a great deal for children because of your—

I’m not going to touch him. Humanae spoke suddenly, breaking the conversation off. He looked at Cain sharply who got the message. Oh, shit. he muttered. Suddenly, Rachel, always alert looked at eight. We’ve got to go, he said, standing up. Cain nodded and finished off his coffee. Great breakfast, Ray, he said. I hope we can do it again. Maybe we can trade embarrassing Humanae moments.

Rachel laughed, and Humanae looked at her, transfixed by her laughter and how innocent it sounded. How normal. We definitely will, Cain. she said and stood up. Humanae walked over to her, put his arms around her, kissed her gently. I’ll be back soon, he promised, in one piece. And maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll make some gumbo and pudding. Rachel kissed him deeply.

We’ll see. Just hurry home. she said and they started to kiss again, lost in their own reality until Cain dragged them back by making crying sounds. They both looked over to see him in the doorway, wiping away nonexistent tears. I can feel the love in this room. he quipped and rushed over to them. Group hug. he said, putting his arms around them both. Rachel gave Humanae a look as if to say, that’s your friend.

C’mon. he said, grabbing Cain’s hair and dragging him out the kitchen. Rachel watched them go, and hugged herself. She wanted to be brave, to pay heed to Humanae’s promise to return. Many times before, he had kept that promise.

But now, even on the beginning of such a beautiful day, she felt as if someone had walked over her grave, and said the one thing that scared her.

or so. The large once respectable steamboat was now one of the most infamous spots for carnal pleasure that people knew about, but looked the other way in regards to its activities and location. What else could be said of a cultural landmark?

Out on the swamp, the floating whorehouse was famous for its . . . discretion’s. The fact it catered to the more unusual aspects of passions made it an underground hot spot. At Chico’s one could find just about anything, from men to women, even an animal or two. The only thing the proprietor, Louie Chubbs Waller didn’t cater to was necrophilia. The thought of it was as sick to him as he fucking his little sister Cecilia.

Speak of the devil, Waller said as his sister walked up to him, dressed only in a bathrobe. She threw a cut of the money she’d recently earned on the table and made a face. Don’t send me anymore politicians. she snapped. They all want to come in my face.

Let them! Waller roared, his many chins wobbling. That’s what you’re here for, sis.

Such brotherly concern. Cecilia Waller sneered before stalking off, leaving Waller alone with only his money and his two bodyguards. He snorted, and started to count his money, thinking he’d finally figured out why everybody said it was a hassle to hire family. That bitch should be grateful I talked her out of being an actress instead of giving me shit. he muttered, and pulled out a small mirror.

respectable.

Because in this business, one didn’t stay on top of the situation without gathering . . . information about the clientele.

Waller, I want to talk to you. The voice was as recognizable as it was harsh. Waller looked away from the crowd to see a large black man with gray eyes glaring at him. Waller grinned, and put his hands on his massive stomach. Mr. Humanae. To what do I owe this pleasure? Another wife wants you to find a drunk husband? Or did your wife stop being warm? As pretty as she is, she should consider working for me. She’d make a lot of money. Humanae moved inhumanely fast, grabbing Waller by the neck. As the bodyguards moved, so did Cain, punching one, then crouching down to avoid the second’s fist. He came back up, his head catching the man’s chin. The man grunted, and fell down. Humanae looked down at them before noticing Waller looking at them. He pushed the man into his seat, and wiped his hand on his pants leg. I want information, Waller, or I’m going to take you apart. Humanae said in a low voice. Waller shook his head, trying hard to retain some dignity. I don’t care what you want, spook. You ain’t getting it from me. Humanae’s jaw tightened as he looked at the bloated moon face. Your choice: information or pain.

Go to hell, boy.

Humanae slammed his fist into the table—which live through this. Otherwise, my friend here is going to take you deep in the swamps, and quarter you like an onion."

For extra-added affect, Cain pulled out a wickedly sharp knife. Waller looked from the knife to Humanae, sweat pouring out of him like water from a hydrant. He licked his lips. Okay, I’ll play. What do you gents like to know?

Humanae’s eyes narrowed, and he moved close enough to kiss his quarry. Strigoli. he said simply, and Waller felt his world come crashing down around him. He swallowed as best he could. I can’t. He’ll kill me if I were to give him up.

I’ll kill you if you don’t, Waller. Humanae hissed and tightened his grip. You’re scum, praying on people like their nothing more than meat. Now, tell me. Where is Strigoli? The calm voice made Waller even more terrified. He looked over at Cain, who was smiling as he carved an apple. Waller could almost feel the knife biting into his skin, carving layer after layer away until . . .

I can’t. I can’t. He’s psychotic. He’ll eat my heart.

Strigoli. Humanae repeated, and this time, something in his eyes became too hard for Waller to even fathom.

Louie Waller gave them everything they needed to know in less than five minutes. He blubbered a great deal as he did so but as he did, Humanae’s eyes

I don’t know. Waller whimpered. I never went to his lair. All I know is that he meets me in the heart of the swamp east of here. Humanae looked at Cain, who nodded and bit into his apple again. Then he kneeled until he and Waller were face to face. Humanae felt no sympathy towards the man’s tear shined cheeks, or the look of stark terror in his eyes. If I ever have your name come across any of my work again, Waller, he growled, I’ll personally come back here and kill you.

But that’s only if Strigoli don’t take your heart in regards to your betrayal, mon ami. Cain remarked, and headed for the door. Humanae nodded, gave one last look to the mortal who used to be the great Louie Waller, and departed Chico’s Whorehouse, the scores of customers and whores alike staring at him in wonder. And with fear.

For one customer, a regular by the name of Old Remy Lathon, the men slightly reminded him of Waller’s other visitor, the ice blue eyed visitor that proclaimed itself Strigoli. They walked with the same mixture of pride and knowledge that seemed almost ageless. Remy Lathon whistled through what was left of his front teeth. Who were they? a whore next to him asked. I don’ know, he answered, but Death follows them.

Remy, you’ve always been full of shit.

"Among other t’ings, chere." Remy replied, and grabbed the woman’s breast.

the anger in those unearthly gray eyes. Okay, he conceded as he made his way to the passenger’s side. "Do you think it’s wise to go into the fucking swamp alone?!"

No more kids will disappear. Humanae said simply and put the katana in the back seat. And if that bastard’s behind it all, I’ll bring all of Heaven down on him. Cain stood there, mostly surprised. Humanae was a warrior, true, but his lust for Strigoli’s death went way beyond a simplistic obligation. It was . . . personal. Cain weighed the consequences of following his friend, and shrugged. At worst, they would only see a few gators and swamp life. Hopefully.

He got into the car, convinced it was easier to continue this wild chase in the swamp. Besides, he thought arrogantly, how hard would it be to hunt somebody like Strigoli in a swamp? Although he had only seen the demon once, it had to be easy.

It had to.

It wasn’t. Although they were immortal and therefore superior to mortal men, the teeming swamp proved far more treacherous than Cain would’ve ever thought. It was far more alien than anything he’d ever been in. Humanae; however, seemed at home, carrying his sword somewhat gently in the crook of his arm. It was clear the immortal trying to think like his enemy, therefore find him.

A dragonfly zipped by Cain, startling him. He took two steps back, and fell into murky waters. He turned and leapt just as the powerful jaws of the gator came down where he once was. Humanae laughed as the reptile sauntered away sullenly and looked up in the tree. You can come down now, he called.

At least thirty feet up, Cain stood on a branch, arms wrapped around the cypress’ thick trunk, a look of horrified disgust on his face. That thing could’ve bit my fucking leg off.

If not more. Humanae agreed calmly. Cain shot him an evil look as he dropped besides the man. Despite immortality, it was instinctual fear that was the hardest enemy to banish.

As Cain was about to suggest wrapping up the search, the smell hit them. The smell of decay and bloated tissue. The smell of dead things long gone to seed.

The smell of death.

Humanae and Cain looked at each other, then moved slowly deeper and deeper into the swamp. As they did, Cain looked around at the water sloshing up to his thighs. Funny, there seems to be no wildlife around here. he remarked. Humanae stopped and tensed, listening for any sound other than them.

Nothing. Not even the drone of a dragonfly or of the cry of a bird.

Something here got them so spooked they’re all staying away, Humanae answered grimly. And I think I know who—or what—the reason is. They a cigarette out of his pocket. To his dismay, it was wet. He tossed it away, and looked up. God, he muttered, why don’t you give me a friggin’ break.

Something landed on his shoulder. He let out a cry of surprise and moved back with such startling speed that Humanae’s eyebrows furrowed. Something touched me, Cain exclaimed by way of an explanation. Humanae looked towards the tree and saw the dead birds. Dozens of them, finally falling out of the trees. Cain muttered something in French, and Humanae looked towards an opening about fifty yards away. We’re close.

Yeah. Too fucking close. I say we go back and get help. Iris, Kareem, Sasha, Lucien, anybody. Cain said.

NO. The voice made Cain look up into the sky. Humanae frowned, and tensed. It was too much like his dream. That made him nervous. KEEP GOING. The voice came from everywhere at once, and its deep thunder made Cain throw his hands up in resignation, then pull his sword from its scabbard. Fuck it. Let’s go. They moved forward, ready for anything, any attack, as the dead air around them seemed to vibrate with power.

When they entered the opening, Humanae felt his heart stop, and the words of his dream come back to him. ‘A world where innocence is a fond memory’. Humanae whispered softly, and felt tears well.

waters, an obscene version of the Tree of Life. The power emanating from the tree was palpable, but the darkness that imbued it was even more so. Humanae didn’t bother to look at Cain; the same look of shock and sorrow was on his face as well. H, the kids. he whispered. Humanae nodded without looking at him.

Their bodies were hanging upside down; their small arms seemed to reaching towards the swamp as if salvation was there. On sickly gray chests were carved intricate symbols, and the black dried blood trickled downward. Their faces were the most horrible sights, the open eyes and mouths in perpetual screams forever silenced. Humanae felt his rage grow as this sight took him back to his beginning, almost a thousand years ago, when he had been mortal, and came back from a hunt to find his village in flames. So much death. he murmured softly and moved forward.

He stole their souls. Cain said in a sorrowful voice. All so he could be more powerful?

No, Humanae answered flatly. So he could become Unbound. He turned to look at the expression of shook.

I am Unbound. Strigoli’s voice came from everywhere. Funny, isn’t it? Death all around us, and we’re in the middle of it.

Again.

Welcome, Ozymandius.

you tell I’m going to by my fiendish cackle? With those words, his dry laugh echoed. Humanae looked back at Cain, who was moving up to him. Be careful. He’s psychotic.

Like I couldn’t tell. Cain retorted.

He came up between them out of the water like a fish, never even breaking the surface, but taking the duo by surprise. The force alone threw both immortals into the swamp waters as Strigoli hovered mere inches above the water, grinning, admiring his handiwork as the duo regained their senses. Tsk, tsk. he chortled coldly. You boys should watch your step. The first one, always a bitch.

Cain glared at him. Parlor tricks again? Are you going to fight, or what?

The dark, majestic demon laughed, and pulled out his sword. He held up the curved blade, and said, Do you know how many of your kind I’ve killed with this sword?

I’d hate to think of it. Cain answered, moving towards the tree island. Humanae stood in front of Strigoli, his eyes burning. It ends. Now.

"Not now. Not ever. Strigoli spat, and charged him. Humanae leapt up, using his katana to block the demon’s low arc. They both hit the water, swords sending a shower of sparks as the two blades connected. Cain moved in, using his sword to catch his enemy in the back with a savage slash. Strigoli responded by ducking underwater. He grabbed his eyes blazing with unholy zeal. I’m going to enjoy this, he spat. Humanae ducked as the demon swung, and came up besides him, punching him in the face. As the demon staggered, he punched him again. And again and again. You murdered those children, just like you did so long ago. Humanae bellowed with every punch. Why?!"

Strigoli took two steps back, and spit out a tooth. Because they, like you, spread hope. And there is no hope. Not for the mortals. Not for you. Why spread such a cancerous lie? Humanae’s eyes widened as he realized something he only speculated on earlier. Strigoli was insane. Not just insane, but moreso than one could even imagine.

Die for me. the demon cooed, swinging his blade. Humanae dodged the blade, flying backwards. Die for me, let your blood be my wine as I baptize my world with death and destruction, he hissed as he moved forward, the smile gone, leaving the cold expression on his face. Humanae looked around wildly for a place to bring to his advantage, but could find none.

Cain tackled Strigoli, and they both fell into the murky waters. Seconds later, they were up, minus Strigoli’s sword. He had Cain by the neck. As Humanae moved forward, Strigoli hurled the stunned immortal at his friend.

Unable to avoid him, Humanae was thrown into the waters as Cain collided with him. He came up, holding his friend and looking around, alert.

again serene swamp. Damn. he said softly before he heard a rustle above him. He looked up—

—just as Strigoli came flying down, the hilt of his sword aimed at Humanae’s head.

It was the last thing Humanae saw as he fell to the ground. Strigoli laughed aloud. Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you yet. Humanae heard him say as he struggled to get up. I intend to make you suffer first. With those words, he kicked his enemy savagely in the ribs. Then he dropped his sword and ripped off a very thick branch. Goodnight, asshole, he sneered before he brained Humanae. The immortal made no sound as he went down for good. Strigoli shrugged and threw the branch away. Miles to go before I sleep, he whispered as he picked up his sword. He took one last look at his tree,