Tim Marquitz - Armageddon Bound

As the symbols lighted up in my finger’s wake, a shimmering red glow tracing their outlines, I heard a metallic clank and the cuffs popped open. Scarlett’s power flooded back to her, the mystical restraints no longer neutralizing it. Her eyes shined with renewed energy. She howled, though it came out sounding like a strangled cat through the gag, and flexed against the rest of the chains. The links snapped as though they were made of glass. Metal shrapnel hurtled in all directions as the bulk of the chains dropped to the floor at her feet. She tore the gag away and gave me a grateful smile, wicked intentions swirling in her fierce eyes. Her manner feral, she spun and zeroed in on the closest of the angels, her former brethren. “Traitorous whores!”

Before the words had even cleared her mouth, Scarlett launched herself at Rafal, the closest to her. With her sword missing, presumably still in the hands of Asmoday, she led with her fists. To the accompaniment of thunder, Scarlett crashed into her foe. A flash of blinding light exploded when they collided, the two locked in a streaking comet of whirling limbs. The impact carried them across the room and through the wall of the barn where a cloud of dust and wooden splinters obscured their passage.

Certain Scarlett could take care of herself, I turned back to survey the battle field. Rahim, though weakened by his earlier fight with McConnell, seemed to be holding his own. Like a mythical Gandalf, he had fashioned a sword and shield out of pure energy and stood fast on the front line. Each sweep of his mystical sword carved a deep swath through the ranks of Asmoday’s minions. Though it seemed to do little damage, the angels defending against it with their own magic, it seemed to keep them at bay. It had claimed at least one victim, however. A fiend lay face down on the dusty floor, its stomach gaping wide like the mouth of a carnival fun ride. Its moist intestines bubbled out from underneath it, a never-ending serpent of black and deep red. Wafts of steam and putrid scents drifted from the wound, a gentle serenade of hissing accompanying it. Katon, skulking behind the wizard, darted out between Rahim’s strokes and struck at the minions with his crimson blade. I watched as his enchanted weapon split the ribs of a Dread Fiend, its point piercing the creature’s heart. Its eyes rolled back in its head as the vampire pulled his sword free. It shuddered and dropped cold the instant the blade was removed, Katon dancing back to the safety of Rahim’s defenses. Wanting a piece of the action myself, I drew my guns and aimed them at the angels. I figured a couple more souls would look good on my spiritual resume. But before I could fire, I saw a flash of movement at the edge of my vision. My head did the math. Malis and Urtel stood before Rahim and Katon, three fiends with them. A fourth fiend lay dead and Rafal was having his head pounded in by Scarlett outside. That left a fiend unaccounted for.

That was, until right then. I really need to pay more attention.

I growled as I spun, leveling my pistols. The fiend was faster, a trend I was getting real tired of, let me tell you. Its claws sunk into the meat of my side and a split second later, its shoulder rammed into my chest. The wind knocked from me, I sucked in a gasping breath as I was lifted into the air and slammed onto my back.

My left hand struck the ground hard and the pistol in it popped loose, to bounce out of reach. I clutched tighter to the other one as the fiend dropped down on my chest, its taloned hand clutching at my arm to keep me from putting my gun to use.

It leaned in toward me with its snarling mouth just inches from my face, its yellowish quills quivering even closer. I managed to slide my free arm in between us, pressing against its neck to keep it away some. It was too little space to give me much comfort and it was too strong for me to hold it for long. It tore at my defending arm, ripping open bubbling wounds that oozed black blood. I could feel my arm weakening beneath the assault. It wouldn’t be long before it failed me altogether.

Its rancid breath curled my nose hairs as it snorted and huffed, trying to bite my face off. Droplets of rank spittle rained down over me. I did my best to not think about what kind of cooties I could catch from it. While the least of my worries at that particular moment, I couldn’t help but think about it while gnashing rows of rotten teeth clacked together above me in a rhythmic tattoo, like lines of dark soldiers marching off to war. With every passing second, ravaging and horribly stinky death inched closer.

I struggled beneath the fiend, casting a quick glance to see if my companions had seen my predicament. My heart dropped when I saw they also were close to being overrun. There’d be no help from them.

Desperate, I thrashed from side to side, trying my hardest to delay the seemingly inevitable. The fiend held tight, its claws digging deeper into my arm, the other shredding what remained of my left. Its foul stench struck me like a fist as its gaping mouth pressed closer to my eyes, its bony quills jabbing into my cheeks and forehead. Looking up into the maw of the fiend, its rows of shark-like teeth and dripping putrescence, I knew that wasn’t how I wanted to go out. Give me a good old-fashioned heart attack any day.

Frantic, I bucked my hips up and just managed to get my legs beneath it before it settled its weight back down. Not wasting a second, considering how few I had left, I spread my legs and set my feet on the inside of the fiend’s hips. I mustered all my strength and kicked my legs out, pushing as best I could with my wounded arm. Caught off guard, the fiend’s lower body was lifted into the air and shoved back about a foot as I yanked my right arm in the opposite direction. It caught its balance and dropped its weight back onto me but not before its restraining hand had slipped free of my arm. Its oval eyes went wide when it realized what I’d done. I could see the reflection of the gun barrel in them as I brought it to bear. I squeezed my eyes shut and hunkered down as I tapped the trigger repeatedly, the gun hovering just above my nose. I could feel the heat from its report, the smoking hot casings raining down over me. The. 45’s vicious bark was like music to my deafened ears. The fiend’s screeches like a symphony of base satisfaction.

The seven silver deaths struck in rapid succession, each leaving behind a little less of the fiend’s ugly face than the last, all wreaking destruction in their wake. Its warm and gooey blood rained down on me, tiny droplets of gross. I could taste the fetid sickness in my mouth and smell its putrid scent in my nose. It was real hard not to vomit.

The screams ended and I felt a moist splash on my chest as the fiend collapsed, the remnants of its head like a shattered pumpkin oozing down my ribs. I shuddered and kicked the thing off of me, wiping at my face to clear my eyes before I opened them. I didn’t want any of that vile nastiness in them. I managed to get most of the goop off, but there was nothing I could do about the reeking funk that lingered like an unwelcome house guest.

Knowing I had more important things to worry about, I fumbled at my ammo belt with my one good hand, my left arm hanging lifeless at my side, and looked to see where we stood in the battle. I should have kept my eyes closed.

Separated from Katon, Rahim was caught between the two angels, both doing their damndest to kill him in close quarters. It was enough apparently. As Rahim spun to deflect the first angel’s blow, Urtel slipped behind him and drove his glowing fist into the wizard’s back just above the hips. Twenty yards away, I heard the crack of Rahim’s spine snapping. My stomach reeled as the wizard cried out and crumpled to the ground in a broken heap.