The Dragon's Blood (Part 55)
During which Stefan Blackmoon faces the oncoming horde...
55
Stefan Blackmoon faced the oncoming horde of milky white monstrosities, their chattering steadily growing louder and louder as they came closer.
She turned back to the others, finding them silently watching the dreadful drama that unfolded before them. Beyond the gnawing overpowering fear and revulsion at the sight of these Sahajin things, she felt a growing sense of apprehension about his leaving them.
She didn't trust him, didn't trust any of them, not even the ones she knew and spent her days beside. But something about this one, this creature that appeared out of the darkness of this day with his great blue eyes and his strange shape-shifting weapon, rang true and cut through the wall of shadow she'd maintained ever since she'd seen that man change into a monster by the moonlight of central park.
Even through her doubt, Stefan Blackmoon was different, she was sure of this.
He stamped his marvelous shape-shifting cane into the ground. It's glow amplifying, the dragon head evaporating, one end of it becoming a fiery red while the other an icy cold blue. Both ends elongated and sharpened, each of them taking on one of the properties it's katana incarnation had blended together for it's one blade. He now held a double-bladed spear, both points glowing fiercely, setting alight the entire scene and finally truly revealing just how many of the creatures surrounded them.
The two dozen or so of the nightmare monsters screeched loudly, additional clawed appendages snapping out of their hides and waving menacingly about their grotesque bodies. They rushed forward, eager to do God knows what to their challenger.
Blackmoon met that charge, the weapon, Frostfire he'd called it, swinging at the first of the beasts, it's flaming end slashing upwards and through the monster's chitinous hide, cutting through it like a knife through butter. The monster's screeching clattering grunts gave way to a high pitched scream of pain as it ignited, red flames instantly covering it's entire body. It didn't explode like the vampires had, but he'd killed it just the same, the monstrosity falling back and away from him and into one of it's brothers setting that one ablaze as well.
This emboldened the others and they mindlessly swarmed all about him, slicing at him with their wicked lobster claws.
She watched helplessly, wanting to but knowing that even emptying the last few bullets in her own weapon to assist him would be for nothing as they tore away at him. She watched as his jacket was torn, his pants shredded and gash upon gash was opened all about his person, red blood running profusely. He disappeared into the sea of them, Frostfire's lights cutting open shrimp beast after shrimp beast, setting multitudes aflame and just as many collapsing into dead blocks of frozen meat.
She wanted to look away, every instinct within her that wasn't screaming at her to somehow aid him wanting to do just that, but she forced herself to look, to watch as he did the seemingly impossible.
And he did do that impossible act, he did just that as he came out the other side, that incredible weapon of death in his hands illuminating the subway tunnels as he ran with it, the demons from the bottom of the ocean's depths chasing behind him, screaming in outrage.
She watched as other monsters closed in from the sides, more of the clattering sea-things and other abominations, shape-less and alien. They found Frostfire just the same, and they fell apart just as the Sahajin and the vampires had, uttering out their own screams of pain and torment as they died.
But as he had told them, not even he could handle everything and it wasn't very long before she saw as he retreated further and further away, how the blue and red flames of his weapon slowly faded and faded until they finally left them alone in the cold darkness with the things of the night, the creatures your mother had told you lived only in your imagination, all about them.
They remained silent, not a one of them daring to speak aloud for a very long time in that dreadful stillness left behind by Blackmoon's passing.
“What do we do now?” Came the first words, nothing more than a croak, spoken in a voice completely unrecognizable. For the rest of Lorelei Price's life she would still never identify which one of them they had come from.
“We wait for him to come back,” was her response.
End Part 55
If you find yourself interested in the whole damnedable thing and wanna throw me a few bucks, here's a link to it on Amazon.