from his powerful grip , freeing me. I fell to the ground, watching him crumple over in pain, trying to secure the family jewels.
Running, Fergus catapulted himself on top of Vyx, putting him in a chokehold, wrestling him down to his burly knees.
“Fergus!” cried John, lying on his belly, his arms flailing out, reaching, and scrapping at the dirt with his fingernails.
He was captured by the Màrmann, ripping at his clothes, shredding it to pieces as he tried to pull away from their death grip, gnawing at him with their piercing canine teeth into his raw skin, his body oozing blood, weakening with each cut as they tried to drag him into the cave.
The demon broke through the Màrmann like a dark eerie mist with her seething eyes, her fingers crooked open like scissors, displaying her sword-like straws, ready to drink her dinner. Crouching over John, her nails sliced through his neck, coldly, rich blood pulsing up her fingernails, hollow and vacuum-like, sucking out his life’s energy heartlessly, her eyes rolling back into her head, just like the junkie’s I’ve seen on the streets, when they finally get their fix.
“JOHN!” cried Fergus, releasing Vyx’s brawny neck and charging toward Lainahwyn.
Lainahwyn’s eyes darted up, hissing at Fergus, her tongue rattling, long and split at its end like a snake, it shot out from her mouth, lancing his neck, crippling him with her toxic venom, his body crumpled over, flopping to the ground.
Vyx sneered at me, cracking his head to the side, his body dripping in sweat, he rose back to his feet, his muscle mass charging toward me like a bull.
I sat there, frozen, not knowing whether to run or allow him to pound my face in. He sure looked angry.
“Take my hand!” said a familiar voice behind me. I twirled around and saw Anabel, saddled on top of a chestnut horse, its nose whinnying up as it pranced beside me. I threw my hand up, latching onto her arm, and promptly shimmied onto the horse’s back.
Vyx roared, flinging himself toward us. Anabel steered the horse away, its legs sidestepping away from Vyx as he fell face down into a blanket of purple heather.
Blane jumped through the Màrmann on a black stallion, a claymore’s blade clutched in his hands, raising it high above his head, swinging large circles as he swung it down at one of the Màrmann, slicing off his right arm.
Lainahwyn sat unaffected, holding John’s limp body by her side, pale, deteriorated, all his blood drained from his lifeless body.
Blane’s stallion reared before Lainahwyn, its iron horseshoes hovering above her demonic head, her voice let out an unearthly wail as she crawled back into the cave, leaving John’s body alone in the chilly grass.
Blane’s horse galloped over to Fergus, his body convulsing uncontrollably from Lainahwyn’s venom, he scooped him up easily, laying him belly side down on the stallion’s back. His eyes shifted over toward John, his remains sprawled flat on the ground. The Màrmann swarmed around him, buzzing like bees, they were unaffected by the iron horseshoes, pouncing on top of John’s corpse like it was fresh meat, trying to quench their thirst for blood, tearing, hacking at his body, dragging him back into the demon’s cave of death.
Tears swelled in my eyes, my fingers trembling, reaching up to wipe away the waterworks, closing them tightly, saying a silent prayer in my head for John, hoping he didn’t suffer much.
Blane’s horse rode toward us. He pointed at white speck, motoring rapidly toward us from the mountainside.
A cloaked man cruised past us, straddling a black motorcycle with a sidecar made of bones, saluting us with two bony fingers, heading toward Lainahwyn’s lair.
“What is that?” I asked, rubbing my swollen eyes.
“The Ankou,” answered Blane. “The Portal is in a weakened state. Now he can pass through to claim the dead.”
We raced away from the cave, the horses striding at a quickened pace.
My heart mourned for the
Running, Fergus catapulted himself on top of Vyx, putting him in a chokehold, wrestling him down to his burly knees.
“Fergus!” cried John, lying on his belly, his arms flailing out, reaching, and scrapping at the dirt with his fingernails.
He was captured by the Màrmann, ripping at his clothes, shredding it to pieces as he tried to pull away from their death grip, gnawing at him with their piercing canine teeth into his raw skin, his body oozing blood, weakening with each cut as they tried to drag him into the cave.
The demon broke through the Màrmann like a dark eerie mist with her seething eyes, her fingers crooked open like scissors, displaying her sword-like straws, ready to drink her dinner. Crouching over John, her nails sliced through his neck, coldly, rich blood pulsing up her fingernails, hollow and vacuum-like, sucking out his life’s energy heartlessly, her eyes rolling back into her head, just like the junkie’s I’ve seen on the streets, when they finally get their fix.
“JOHN!” cried Fergus, releasing Vyx’s brawny neck and charging toward Lainahwyn.
Lainahwyn’s eyes darted up, hissing at Fergus, her tongue rattling, long and split at its end like a snake, it shot out from her mouth, lancing his neck, crippling him with her toxic venom, his body crumpled over, flopping to the ground.
Vyx sneered at me, cracking his head to the side, his body dripping in sweat, he rose back to his feet, his muscle mass charging toward me like a bull.
I sat there, frozen, not knowing whether to run or allow him to pound my face in. He sure looked angry.
“Take my hand!” said a familiar voice behind me. I twirled around and saw Anabel, saddled on top of a chestnut horse, its nose whinnying up as it pranced beside me. I threw my hand up, latching onto her arm, and promptly shimmied onto the horse’s back.
Vyx roared, flinging himself toward us. Anabel steered the horse away, its legs sidestepping away from Vyx as he fell face down into a blanket of purple heather.
Blane jumped through the Màrmann on a black stallion, a claymore’s blade clutched in his hands, raising it high above his head, swinging large circles as he swung it down at one of the Màrmann, slicing off his right arm.
Lainahwyn sat unaffected, holding John’s limp body by her side, pale, deteriorated, all his blood drained from his lifeless body.
Blane’s stallion reared before Lainahwyn, its iron horseshoes hovering above her demonic head, her voice let out an unearthly wail as she crawled back into the cave, leaving John’s body alone in the chilly grass.
Blane’s horse galloped over to Fergus, his body convulsing uncontrollably from Lainahwyn’s venom, he scooped him up easily, laying him belly side down on the stallion’s back. His eyes shifted over toward John, his remains sprawled flat on the ground. The Màrmann swarmed around him, buzzing like bees, they were unaffected by the iron horseshoes, pouncing on top of John’s corpse like it was fresh meat, trying to quench their thirst for blood, tearing, hacking at his body, dragging him back into the demon’s cave of death.
Tears swelled in my eyes, my fingers trembling, reaching up to wipe away the waterworks, closing them tightly, saying a silent prayer in my head for John, hoping he didn’t suffer much.
Blane’s horse rode toward us. He pointed at white speck, motoring rapidly toward us from the mountainside.
A cloaked man cruised past us, straddling a black motorcycle with a sidecar made of bones, saluting us with two bony fingers, heading toward Lainahwyn’s lair.
“What is that?” I asked, rubbing my swollen eyes.
“The Ankou,” answered Blane. “The Portal is in a weakened state. Now he can pass through to claim the dead.”
We raced away from the cave, the horses striding at a quickened pace.
My heart mourned for the
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