Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Chapter 5

I am deeply apologetic about the large delay in writing. I went to write this many, many times, but every time I did the draft felt wrong. I have written and rewritten this part at least six times sometimes getting five pages (on Microsoft Word) long before feeling it was quite artificial and scrapping the entire thing. I feel most comfortable releasing this, but I am still nervous. I am always open to feedback and am always thankful for it. 

Thank you for your support and I'll continue to support my followers in all their endeavors! Also, I keep up on my other blog quite well if you haven't checked out that yet. It's just a compilation of funny events in my life. Much easier to write about non-fiction than it is to create something sometimes.

    Everyone remained still. It almost felt that time itself stayed still to keep the monster inside Xephyr from appearing. He clutched at the wound in his chest, feeling the blood lightly flow. Although the wound appeared to be shallow, it was just the catalyst necessary for Xephyr to change.

    He had lost control of his hand, another entity moved his body for him. His hand wiped across the wound and moved up to his lips. His tongue flickered out involuntarily and slid up the palm. A questionable look came from both Max and Cylvia, but Adva started to sweat. He knew what was settling in.

    Mmm…your blood tastes exquisite…

    Please, stop Auvyr. Get back inside me! I don’t want you fighting my battles for me!

    I wonder…what would her blood taste like…, the voice inside his head, dubbed Auvyr, completely disregarded what Xephyr said. Auvyr was now in control. He was going to relish his time out.

    “MAX! CYLVIA! Get the hell outta here now!”, Adva barked. They needed to get out of there. If he drew any weapons, they would all be murdered in moments.

    Auvyr licked his lips. His bloodlust was unquenchable, but it could be fed. He slowly drew his swords and focused on Max. As mentally unstable as he was, there was still a high manner of intelligence creeping around in that skull. Auvyr observed the firearms Max had and knew that he posed an immediate threat compared to the swordswoman.

    His eyes and his muscles tightened, ready to leap at his new enemy. Cylvia saw this quite obvious sign and stood between the two.

    “Get out of the way woman.”, she did not respond with anything more than a dark look of defiance. He clicked his tongue and tilted his head hoping she’d move. Her eyes narrowed to match his own. It took very little for him to garner a hatred for it, and she was quickly becoming something he utterly abhorred. Just the mere sight of her face, her sharpened eyes, expressionless but calculating, was enough to drive him mad.

    "If you're so eager to die, you can be next", he licked his lips lavishly. She stood her ground.

    “Fine. If anything this just means I can taste your flesh and blood ahead of schedule."

    Auvyr lurched forward with his two swords thrusting one towards her chest which she expertly deflected, but used the momentum from her reflection to propel a sweep down by her legs. She managed to jump over it, but barely. He continued a spin but sliced vertically downward.

    Cylvia foresaw such an obvious movement and sidestepped ready to exploit the opening he had just made. She swung horizontally expecting to quickly end him. Unknown to her, he wanted her to do that. He planned for it. He knew she would instantly recognize the obvious opening he made and was going to exploit that. He dropped down on all four and as soon as the sword passed over his head, he tackled her to the ground.

    Auvyr tangled his arms in hers and had her in a painful shoulder lock. Although it hurt, she did not scream or even show the slightest hint of pain. Auvyr prided himself on being an extreme sadist; not seeing her show any signs of pain furthered his anger. He pushed farther and farther until he felt her arm pop out of its socket, but even though her muscles tightened up, she still made no expression of pain.

    He looked at her with frightening contempt. She stared back, but made no signs of intimidation. Auvyr spat on her, he was done with her for now. He now had a bigger target to take care of. He looked over to his other enemy, but he was no longer there.

    Max had moved to a different location. He couldn’t find a better shot against his enemy. With how close he got to Cylvia and how quick both of them fought, he couldn’t afford to miss, cripple Cylvia, and be the reason she gets killed. Max moved about, trying to find a better viewpoint, but every time he thought he had a proper shot, Cylvia would move right back into the way.

    Then Cylvia made her mistake. She got knocked down and this monster of blinding speed had her in his control. Max cocked his gun as this beast twisted her arm further and further. He aimed, determined to get him directly in that tormenting smirk. Until a heavy punch to his jaw connected.

    Max, though confused, instantly recovered and pointed his gun in the direction of his assailant. His gun was instantly smacked aside as another jab came straight for his face. He dodged, grabbed the arm, and threw whoever it was over his back. A woman flipped over him, but was able to twist her body to stop herself from falling down.

    She reversed the grip between the two and instead pulled him down. She rocked onto her back and flung him backwards. If anything, he was just as acrobatic as she and was quickly able to regain his balance.

    “That’s it, I’m tired of this shit”, Max said, taking a few large strides backwards and brandishing his gun once more.


    Max went down and crumpled into a heap. His head now had two more holes in it and blood was starting to seep into the sand. Beside the body, a terror stricken Jack stood, quivering, gun in hand.

    Jack had no idea what to think. His mind was blank of any tangible thought, but his emotions ran rampant. He felt disgusted, confused, angry, terrified but above all, and almost paradoxically, empty. He hadn’t taken a life before even though he had been in many battles. His role was always as medic and support. He never knew what it would be like to kill someone, but he didn’t think it’d be like this.

    He doubled over and threw up on the body he had just murdered unable to contain himself. His body started to feel cold as the shock started to creep and swirl through his veins. Jack felt as cold as space; might as well have been space for the emptiness he felt lingering.

    Jack felt dizzy, his consciousness was quickly spiraling out of control. He tried to destabilize himself, but felt his mind slip away. He was close to falling into his own vile mess of regurgitation and blood, but was caught by Skylar.

    “Hey, c’mon now. I need you. You did well”, she looked beyond her troubles with personal contact and held him close, “don’t you dare fall just from that. Nobody here will carry your ass outta here. You need. To get up. NOW.”

    The words rang in Jack’s ears. He remembered that he had to be stronger and abandon his weak self. A warmth started to rise within him as fragility gave way to a stubbornness to continue fighting.

    “Good, good, now get up, Jack!”, Skylar helped him to his feet and slung her backpack over her

    “Wait, I have to ask”, Skylar looked at him, her eyes still as crisp and cool as usual, but the bitterness was not as biting.

    “Is…that how you feel every time you kill somebody?”, he glanced back at the lifeless body.

    Skylar hadn’t thought about it, but was unsure on how she wanted to answer. His eyes were searching, but she her patience was quickly wearing thin.

    “It’ll get easier with time”, is all she said.


  1. Great writing. I like your style, it was a good read. Looking forward to the next one.

  2. Nice writing, keep it up. I also love the title.

  3. its ok to not post as much as long as the posts you do post are worthy