John Jackson - The 9th Fortress

"Rise." he said again, softer this time.

To my left, I noticed a parched stretch of land out of the mud, and there this man reached out for me.

"Newton?" I muttered, smiling.

Staggering up straight, I cleared the dizziness from my head and the shit from my sight. It was not the kind, elderly face of Sir Isaac Newton looking back at me here, but the fresh faced wizard Scarfell, as I last remembered it ascending from the labyrinth centre. Surrounding him was his bog army of forty plus, and by his knee was my cowering prisoner, John Curtis…"Come a long way, Fox." said the wizard, wearing a self-satisfied grin. "Bravo boy. Bravo."

"Help me." snivelled Curtis, crouched by his leg. "Help me Fox…please. Help me."

"Yes!" jeered Scarfell, slapping Curtis several times over the head. "Help him Fox! Let's see you try it!"

Shooting pains in all my joints, I raised my sword from the sludge and aimed it at the wizard.

"He…" I growled; "belongs to me. Let him go!"

"Or else?" dared Scarfell, pulling Curtis by the hair. "Have you seen the state you're in? You can barely stand let alone tell me what to do in my own realm."

"He's mine!" I moaned. "Mine!"

"And didn't I once tell you that everything in this realm belonged to me?! That includes the man grovelling at my knee, and his sword wielding savour."

"What…" I then slumped, feeling the insects making home around my legs, "do you want from me?"

The wizard rubbed at his chest and giggled like Father Christmas; his bogs bouncing up and down like hooting chimps. "What do I want from you?" he pondered, savouring something sweet. "That blade in your hand Fox — fall on it. Fall on that sword and I will grant your prisoner's freedom. Are you willing to do that?"

"If you let him go." I answered. "Yes. I will fall on my sword."

Scarfell smirked, considering the idea with strokes of his beard. I meanwhile demonstrated my honesty by turning the sword to my chest. I was prepared to kill myself, not for the soul of John Curtis, but for the mission's success. Too much had gone on for it to fail — its outcome, right now, meant everything.

"Will you release him?" I asked, and surprising me, Scarfell nodded. "I will Fox. I will."

Scarfell then slapped his open palm fully over Curtis' face.

"No!" I bawled. "Let him go!"

Curtis punched at thin air, then cried out as the increasing fire surrounding his face sent foam dribbling out of his mouth.

"Stop!" I begged. "I need him alive!"

Scrafell laughed, the veins appearing at his temples as he focused his power into the head of Curtis. My prisoner's body was in a violent spasm, and before I could a take a step to prevent his second death, his skull cracked open like an egg, and the gelatinous brain was made grotesquely visible. Shell-shocked and empty, I fell to the muck as a satisfied wizard pried my prisoner's skull apart, scooped out the steaming jelly then threw it back to his devouring bogs.

The mission a catastrophic failure, I sobbed into my filthy palms while the remains of John Curtis disappeared. "There will be no more bargains." said Scarfell, his army advancing. "Today you are mine."

At this lowest ebb, I suddenly felt a presence to my right. I peered up at it, expecting a bog hook to embed itself into my forehead, or the wizard's palm to clamp on my own face. What I got however was something wonderful, someone worth fighting for.

Harmony's eyes were red raw, her expression glazed cold and unafraid. "Harmony? Is it really you?"

She said nothing, but her stolid sight gave me everything — the will to fight. Heart pumping stronger, I wiped my face with a sleeve and stood beside my friend. Her longbow gone, I passed the angel my now powerless dagger, then swivelled the sitting muck from my short sword.

***

The sound over the hidden hilltop was like a shaking drawer full of cutlery as two swords collided. The black samurai — that masked angel of death — was clearly the sharper of the two men — disappearing into smoke before darting out for his next assault.

Expectantly then, Kat received the first blow down his left shoulder, then a slash across his bottom lip, which sent him grimacing to one knee. Although down, the legendary warrior summoned up all of his strength and experience, then returned snarling, clawing, and clanging his way to supremacy. Kat's future would not be taken from him — he would not fall. He scored his first cut across his opponent's chest plate, then a second down the thy. "Come on!" he cried.

The ghost staggered only a moment, then sprang forward to sever Kat's arm off at the elbow. That limb dropped like a lump of butcher meat — but extraordinarily — Kat did not acknowledge the loss; even as blood spurted from the wound. Instead, he gripped his katana firmer, and with bullet like speed and mathematic precision, he pirouetted to break his opponent's own sword in half. Then, going nose to nose with his stunned adversary, Kat smashed his forehead deep into that masked mouth.

The black samurai moaned and slunk, then jerked forward as Kat drove the sword into his stomach. The fight was now over, and drained of everything, black and red warriors tumbled to their deaths down the hilltop.

***

Harmony and I huddled close, pressing my back against her damp wings as the bogs encircled us.

"I need you Harmony." I whispered. "Are you up to this?"

"I'll kill as many as possible." she said, her voice as frosty as her presence.

"Keep the angel alive!" ordered Scarfell. "But bring me the man's skin!"

The monsters closed their net and I slashed. Their cries followed, but a mere squib compared to the tremendous roar from high above us. All eyes searched the overcast cloud, expecting to see another uninvited Cyclops stamping into the fray. What we saw, however, was no one eyed security measure, but a bona-fide wonder of this afterlife — Bludgeon's dragon. Seppuku swooped her blurry scarlet form into action, her wings casting a jagged shadow over the marsh. Her yellow eyes shortly surveyed us; she tipped a wing to one side then descended. Reacting immediately, I dragged Harmony with me to the sludge while bogs scattered hither and thither from Seppuku's opening mouth, and brilliant hose of flames. Shrieks and explosions followed, and threw a wild blaze, I watched the bodies trying to douse themselves in mud.

"Harmony?!" I screamed. "Come back here!"

No longer side me, Harmony was ferociously stabbing a bog on all fours with my dagger. Blood drunk, she commandeered that beast's own blade then went in a frenzy for more.

"Look out!" I howled, as Seppuku soared behind her, mouth primed to explode over anything moving. Taking to my feet, I sprinted toward Harmony and dived, knocking my friend sideways as the dragon's flame succeeding over our heads.

"Where?" I chocked, clutching a protective arm over the angel's head. "Where's the wizard?"

Once the bog army was thoroughly dispatched, Seppuku returned skyward, giving Scarfell plenty of time to nurture his own flame. Livid, he came for me, mustering a growing fireball between his palms.

"Up, Harmony!" I cried, but the wizard would not prolong this moment. The second his sun was cooked, he hurtled it at both of us.

Half standing, Harmony faced down that ball of advancing heat, and I watched, horrified, as she willingly received every fiery volt. Consumed, she was blown in flames to the sky, her little body spinning dead through the clouds.

"Harmony!"

Laughing, Scarfell dusted the matter off his hands, and with no time to grow another, he turned his attention to the now descending dragon. The wizard bent to collect a forgotten bog blade — then — to my complete astonishment, he began to provoke the oncoming serpent. "Come to me…Centaur pet! Rain down your fire! Come to me!"