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Bloodsworn ch. 49
🕑 Added 2024-12-06 18:24:43 +0000 UTC49.
“I’m beginning to understand that you have no survival instincts,” Pomp whispered into Erak’s ear as they walked slowly down the hallway. The faint blue light from the Essence created lights gave the hallway a ominous feel, the blood smears turned black.
The hallways were just as sterile as the atrium had been. Not even a framed picture of the Emperor on the walls. Everything was white tile and the scent of industrial cleaner was ever present. Behind him, Illyria and four of her guards walked behind, their weapons held at the ready.
Erak shrugged a shoulder and jostled the spirit who huffed and slipped back inside of Erak without a word. The hallway opened suddenly into a wide open office space, overturned desks and scattered papers everywhere. A skinned and gutted corpse hung from its ankles, blood still dripping off it, in the middle of the room.
Erak’s heart beat harder, his hands shook, and a cold sweat popped out across his back. He swallowed hard as the urge to flee became overpowering, his legs trembling as he took another step further into the room.
“Erak, something is wrong. Your cortisol levels are spiking, so is your adrenaline. You should improve your perception and processing, it would allow me more warning to you when we enter an ambush. Anyways, there’s a bunch of foreign pheromones in here that are triggering this,” Pomp said. His head popped out of the back of Erak’s armor and looked at the group behind them.
“You should stay back, there’s a large pheromone trap in here that promotes panic-inducing biological reactions amongst humans.”
“Everyone, ten steps back, casters to the front. Erak are you sure on continuing?” Illyria asked. Erak nodded, anger flooding through him as he looked around the room. It was here.
He speed forward and around a metal desk tossed on its side. He kept crouched and low to the ground, his shield covering the majority of his body while his spear sat on the rim of it. The deadly edge pointed out as Erak stalked forward. He kept his head moving, swinging back and forth as he pushed further forward.
“Erak, the dimensions of the room are wrong,” Pomp whispered and Erak stopped. He scanned the room again, looking for what Pomp had just warned him about. There was nothing in the room aside from the spilled desks and the corpse dangling from the center. The edges of the room were clearly lit, no shadows for something to hide in.
His eyes skipped over a wall and then were drawn back to it. There was something off with that section of wall. Everything looked right, but there was something wrong with it.
Erak lunged and threw his spear in one hard motion, the blade flashing across the space in a moment. Blue blood sprayed out like a geyser as an animal scream ripped across his eardrums as something was pinned to the wall, spear lodged in its chest.
Erak drew his sword as the room came alive. Shapes appearing, light rippling as indistinct forms charged at him. A bolt of caster fire seared by him and struck a piece of the wall, burning it but not revealing the hidden monsters.
Erak slashed with his sword, the discordant harmony of the sword beginning as he chopped through an outstretched arm. The creature screamed in his face, the sinewy eight foot long monster still cloaked, its outline hard to see even with him only inches away.
“Erak, I’m going to overlay your eyes with Essence sight,” Pomp said in his ears and then the world flashed and warped and he was seeing the monsters. Bright burning sickly yellow smears that stretched out and over him. The room was filled with the monsters, rushing and running as they came toward him.
Erak’s aura blossomed, fueled by the false fear and the adrenaline surging through his body. The sword sang death and Erak kicked the armless monster in front of him with a heavy boot, sending it flailing to the ground. Another leapt at him, sailing across the distance in a bound, only to meet hard steel as he slapped it down.
Erak laughed, the creatures weak and frail beneath his onslaught. Ambush predators that relied on guile and not strength. Erak showed them the weakness of their ways, as he butchered. They tried to flee, turning and running, but Erak was just as fast as they were. Bounding through desks, breaking them apart in screams of steel, as his sword cut and tore.
One of the monsters spun, larger than the others, a ball of crimson sat in the middle of its Essence signature. Erak lashed at it, his sword screaming off key, and the creature ducked under the lighting fast strike. It hit the ground and bounded at Erak in an instant and then they were tumbling backward.
The ground shook as they landed in a tangle of snapping jaws and steel. Hot breath washed over Erak, putrid meat and sour bile. Erak bucked his hips and threw the beast over his head.
A desk crumpled under the monster’s bulk as Erak got to his feet. Another form crashed into his side and Erak cursed as he spun on his outside foot and hip threw the monster, losing the sword in the process. The harmony of death fell apart, the echoing strands of music abandoned on the blood drenched air.
Erak didn’t need the music to know the next steps. He leapt forward, huge boots coming down at the bigger monster’s head. It spun and thrashed, but the heel of one boot caught the creature’s neck and the sound of breaking bones was pleasing. Erak laughed, the surging chemicals in his body fading, his heart rate calming down as the fear fled.
“I can’t hold the vision anymore,” Pomp panted, voice strained. Then the world slapped back into place with sudden abruptness that made Erak dizzy for a moment. The room was painted blue.
Reptilian monsters were scattered about, long and stringy, with pale green scales, and thin claws. They were pathetic. Erak looked at the one he had crushed under his boots and frowned. It was slightly larger and bulkier, with its jaw thicker than the little ones.
Erak knelt down and grabbed at its ruined throat, running his hands under the jawline and his frown deepened into a scowl as he felt the lumps under the jawline. He rose and grabbed his weapons, pulling the spear free with a jerk and flicking the sword with a snap of his wrist that sent droplets of blood everywhere.
He marched back to Illyria and Pomp came oozing out of his armor, a look of affront and horror on his dragon features.
“These things are bio-weapons,” Pomp said, speaking for Erak.
“That sounds right. Again, I don’t have any knowledge of these facilities. They were way above my station. It would have been reserved for only the highest levels of the Family. The first couple princes and some of the Queens. Maybe not even that.”
“They have dragon features. At least one of them did. The big one, it has the same glands as the Western Plains dragons. It should have been able to spit acid if it was fully developed. The kill feed on them calls them, Dragonmen.”
Erak leaned close to the princess, towering over her as he leaned down. Pomp came out of his armor fully and curled around his neck to lean down to meet her eyes.
“We clean this place, top to bottom. None of these abominations shall live!”
