Marxus steered the van in sharp, abrupt turns, avoiding puddles of water and mud from splashing upward from the force of the boosters that pushed them off the ground. He grunted, feeling the craft jerk upward, in a blunt drop, for he was putting too much strain on their hover abilities.
“Shouldn’t we get there in once piece?” Thomas complained.
“Let me out…” Nathan screamed telepathically, growling and clawing at the seats and barrier that kept him from lunging forward, “Marxus, please…” he grunted, feeling the stabbing pains of his shift grow stronger.
Marxus said nothing, ignoring their complaints and pleas, as he kept his eyes fixed upon the road ahead of them. Catching a glimpse of the large black wolf running swiftly past the van, the canine lept over boulders and old road signs that blocked his path and he wouldn’t rest until he returned to Yzavela.
“We won’t make it there if you keep driving like this, Marxus! You need to calm down, before you crash us on the side of the road!” Thomas argued.
Gripping the wheel tightly, Marxus knew he was right, as he brought the hovercraft to a slower pace, it was then his eyes, and that of Thomas’ as well, glanced through the wet window, catching the sight of smoke rising in the air further out in the distance.
“Hit the gas, hit the gas!” Thomas shouted, pointing down at the pedals near Marxus’ feet, “Everything I just said, f*ck it!”
Marxus grinned, stomping on the gas once more, moving the hovercraft higher off the ground, gliding through the air with such ease and power, but also speed.
“We need to find a weapon.” Jonathan muttered softly.
“Yeah? Where, hmm?” Erik barked, looking at him.
“There…” Anthony pointed between gaps in the panels of the wood wall they all hid behind, toward two men that carried a large machete and a rifle with cartridges and rounds hanging off the man’s belt, “you two…” his dark eyes looked at both Sarah and Yzavela.
“Got it.” I nodded.
“Got what? I don’t got it.” Sarah complained.
“Shut up, move your skinny little a** come on!” I pulled her behind me and looking around the corner, making sure others didn’t see us, both Sarah and I jumped out, calling out toward the men, “Over here!” I waved my hands.
“Over here!” Sarah shouted, waving her arms, “This is crazy!” she complained telepathically, then lowered her arms slowly, watching as the two men turned, “Uh-oh…” she backed away.
“Sh*t…” I too, backed away, then grabbing her hand, both of us retreated behind the building, listening as the two men let out a series of whistles and shouts, trying to attract all of the others. Gripping Sarah’s hand, she and I stood with our backs pressed against the wall, watching as the men’s shadows had crept along the ground nearby that grew closer until we both heard them grunt deeply.
Sarah shrieked softly, as the men fell at our feet with their thick necks and throats torn out from what looked like claws. Raising her gaze, she looked at Anthony who stood covered with their blood splattered on his wet face, chest and hands.
“Their weapons, grab their weapons!” he instructed Erik and Jonathan, then knelt down, dragging their bodies through the mud, hiding them behind the building.
“I-I don’t know how to use this.” Erik wondered, holding the rifle, studying it quickly, then looked at Jonathan who was eager to use the machete, “Trade?”
“Give it to me!” Anthony reached out, snatching the weapon. As his eyes examined it, he clicked the safety lock before he ejected the magazine, examining 20 rounds of bullets that were laced with silver, liquid iron and UV rounds, “Clever…” he mumbled, raising his left eyebrow. Snapping the magazine back in its place, cocking a round into the barrel, he looked at all of the curious faces that watched him, “What?!” he quickly shrugged, “I know things.” he grinned, looking at Yzavela.
“I bet you do.” Erik groaned, then felt Jonathan tap his chest, handing him the machete, “No, I’ll find something else.” he pushed it back to his friend.
“Take it, I’ve got these.” Jonathan raised his left hand that held two butcher’s knives that were found on one of the men’s bodies, “Take it, Erik…” he frowned.
“Now what?” Sarah whimpered softly, hearing other voices.
“That way!” Anthony pointed down the street in the opposite direction, “That must be the way out of this town, we can’t go back the way we came so it’s our only choice.” he scanned the faces watching, and studying him, “Yes?”
“We trust you.” I affirmed.
Nodding toward her, Anthony held his head low, beginning to feel the shift crawl closer to the surface. Leaning on the wall, grunting deeply as he dug his nails into the wood post, he left claw marks behind.
“Let’s go.” he urged, leading the young men and women.
Suddenly, a loud tornado siren, eerily filled the air. I know I shouldn’t have, but the thought of being in SILENT HILL had immediately come to mind, when she was in the streets after dark, having all of the monsters come out, but in this case, the monsters were the townsfolk. Running out into the streets, we were seen and as we turned, large torches had been lit, growing closer but as we continued ahead, we all had ceased, skidding our feet deep into the muddy water, for there were figures up ahead growing closer as well. Standing back-to-back, watching as the men and women surrounded us in a circle, trapping us within their boundary, we grunted and let out soft yelps, feeling them poke us with their weapons, then listened as they taunted us with derogatory comments about our youth, pretty or handsome features. Anthony growled, as he raised the rifle, firing off a warning shot, creating a loud popping echo; the figures surrounding us, backed away a few paces, then parted, allowing the Elders to pass.
“My-my, you five certainly are a challenge, aren’t you?” Elder A proclaimed with agitation, removing his gun from his belt, “But it matters not, look around you…” he held out his arms, “there’s nowhere for you to go.” he lowered his arms, taking a brave step forward.
“Take one more step and I swear I’ll shoot!” Anthony warned.
“You don’t even know how to use that…” the Elder taunted.
“No?” Anthony tilted his head, lowering the gun. Firing off a shot with one hell of a kick, the round shattered the Elders’ knees clean off, tossing his lower limbs aside. Listening as the man screamed in sheer-agony, laying on the ground with his blood turning the rain and mud puddles red, Anthony raised the rifle, looking around, “Anyone else?!”
The men and women didn’t seem to care about their Elder, as they began marching forward with their bladed weapons held tightly in hand.
“Nice going there, man-pimp!” Erik argued, looking around.
“Kill them…kill ’em all!” Elder B screamed, pointing at them, “We’ll eat what’s left and offer the remains as a sacrifice later!”
“Eat what’s left?!” Sarah blurted through her fear.
“SARAH!” everyone screamed at her.
“Sorry!” she whimpered, holding onto Jonathan.
Anthony fired as many of the rounds as he could before the rifle clicked with an empty barrel and magazine, but that didn’t matter as he used it as a weapon, swinging it like one would a mace, but then there was a moment where the rifle was tossed from his hand as one of the large men lunged toward him, knocking him to the ground. Feeling the man pounded his fists down, punching his ribs and across his face, Anthony, flashing his yellow eyes, heard as the man grunted in his ear, trying to bite his shoulder. Growling deeply, he then sunk his canine fangs deep into the man’s neck before his powerful clawed hands ripped off the man’s head. Pushing him off, spitting out the man’s blood, the Lycynian panted, closing his eyes momentarily before he sprung to his feet, continuing to lash out with his claws, slashing throats and it didn’t matter at that point, if they were men and women.
Erik and Jonathan used the machete and the butcher’s knives, while releasing powerful blasts of their arcane magic. There was a moment where the two Demons stood back-to-back as men lunged toward them from all directions; glancing at each other over their shoulders, nodding in agreement, they both knelt down, slamming their hands on the ground deep into the mud, sending a blast wave of energy that threw the men backwards and as they flew through the air, the Demons then reached out their hands, using their Telekinesis, plunging the men through the windows of the nearby buildings and shacks. There were moments as well, as Jonathan began boiling the blood in excruciating temperatures causing them to explode and even though it was quite gory, blood and innards spewed in all directions, mixing with the mud and rain. Even Erik kept his word, killing the Elders, crushing the men from within; he could hear their bones breaking apart before falling to their knees that shattered from their weight and once they were a moment away from death, Erik clapped his glowing green hands together, and as magic exploded between his palms, so did the men’s head, like watermelons.
Poor Sarah was caught in the middle, doing the best that she could in her own way, jumping on the men from behind. As she wrapped her arms around their necks and legs around their torso, she bit down on their shoulders, necks or even bit at their ears, while using her nails to scratch at their eyes or pull on their hair. It seemed, the full moon, was beginning to bring out her own half-Lycynian nature to the surface, for she was wild and frantic, acting like one of the women of this old, f*cked up town! But we weren’t about to complain, she fought.
I remembered my physical training, putting it all to the test and I guess, if I were to score, I probably would have received a C because my footing wasn’t stable enough but I was able to rely on my demonic senses and abilities, throwing several of the men back, or skewered them with nearby debris, using my Telekinesis, and as I grew angrier, filled with more hate for these people, my steaming form erupted into a faint outline, igniting my Aura that burned faces, and eyes, but it didn’t last long because I was still fatigued from utilizing it to break free.
Looking around, seeing their numbers dwindled, several of the men shouted out to use the tranquilizer guns immediately before they were all killed, or their rich meats escaped from their grasp and nets. They backed away, retreating into the buildings.
“Wh-what are they doing?” Sarah rasped.
“It doesn’t matter, let’s go!” I urged, turning her around.
Running down the streets once more, we heard loud voices shouting out yet again and as we looked around, the men had returned, chasing close behind and ahead of us. Continuing to stand our ground against the townspeople, we watched as the men stood around us, holding large tranquilizer guns and as one of the men lunged forward, swinging a large meat hook toward me, the man suddenly yelped in pain as he felt a force pounce on his back. Being knocked down, I watched; a large black wolf with sleek wet fur and muddy paws, aggressively bit onto the back of the man’s neck, ripping out his cervical vertebra, thrashing it around before tossing it aside. Before I could praise in relief, the wolf lunged toward another man I didn’t sense behind me; I crouched down as Zanzabarr lept over me, pouncing the other man to the ground, slathering his jaws. Gripping the man’s groin, he yanked fiercely before ripping from between the man’s legs and in that moment, he no longer was able to identify as a male. Dropping the lump of flesh that wasn’t much, the wolf turned.
“Zanzabarr!” I shouted, smiling proudly.
“Look!” Jonathan pointed behind her, down the street in the opposite direction from which they had come originally, “You see it? There…” he turned everyone around then pointed.
The sound of a powerful engine grew closer and worried it could have been reinforcements someone had called, the two women and three men gathered closely with the wolf close by, watching as the lights approach before it turned, gliding at an angle; mud splashed against its side as the craft came to an abrupt halt with someone hitting the brakes hard. Sighing in relief, we weren’t abandoned, for a man emerged dressed in a white pea-coat, splashing mud and water on his boots which he didn’t seem to care that sunk into the thickness. Two men followed his pursuit, veering around the craft, standing next to him.
“Oh thank god…” Sarah sighed.
“Finally.” Erik moaned.
“Thomas!” Anthony called out.
Yelling in a powerful voice, sounding as if he spoke through a megaphone which he didn’t have, it wasn’t words Marxus spoke but sounds of rage as he marched forward with swords in hand, as did Thomas and Nathan.
“Marxus!” everyone called out at different times, wiping mud and water from our faces, watching as the three men swiftly approached.
“Nathan!” Sarah cried.
“Anthony!” Thomas worried.
Townsmen who hadn’t lost their lives, but suffered injuries, all ceased their attacks, watching as the Immortal approached. Seeing the man standing there, beginning to take on a faint ghost-like glow, he seemed to de-materialize as the nonstop, heavy rains poured through him, without getting wet. None of us took notice at this point, for our minds were on far more important things, like getting the f*ck out of there!
I quickly knelt down, allowing Zanzabarr to jump up on me, covering me with more mud from his paws; I squinted feeling him lick my face then I pulled my head, as I stood, running with the others toward Marxus, who huffed in tired breaths, leering at all of them with anger and disappointment.
“I don’t want to know.” he muttered bluntly, “Get in the van.” he broke gaze, leering toward the large mass of townsmen, “I want you to get your a**ses in that van, and get the hell out of here and WITHOUT QUESTION!” he instructed firmly, “Do you understand?” he received no complaints, “What’s about to happen is not for your eyes!” he finished.
Shaking in place, shivering from the cold temperatures, wet and muddy clothes, we retreated to the van, witnessing the Immortal’s transparency, thinking it was just one of his tricks. Without needing to be told twice, everyone climbed into the van, carefully taking our seats for there was glass spewed all over the back seat and trunk area, as well as feeling the cold air through the shattered window. Turning in our seat, all of us watched as Thomas turned on the engine, driving down the street through the town; thick mud splashed as the loud booster engines pushed the craft off the street.
Turning around, waving his hands, Marxus created a barrier between himself and the craft, avoiding the mud splashing on his white pea-coat. Watching and waiting until the craft had slowly disappeared through another morbid, piped entrance, he focused his attention forward upon the townsfolk.
“How dare you come into our town and interrupt our ways!” one of the men shouted, “Who are you to do such a thing?!” he eyed the finely dressed man in front him, up and down; the axe with a bladed attached on the other end hung low, but was tightly gripped by the shaft.
“Who am I?” Marxus held out his arms, then gestured at the man that approached him, “Who are you?”
“My name is…”
“I don’t care what your f*cking name is!” Marxus spat, “I had made a deal with your barkeeper that my kids could wait in your tavern, and yet here you are, encircling them like prey.”
“Everything was quiet that’s true…” one of the men that sat at the table, announced as he stepped forward, “but then they were insulting everything around them, from the food to the way we are.” he looked around, “They broke furniture and yes, they were too loud, especially the raven haired girl. We had no choice but to put them in their place.”
“P-put them in their place?” Marxus mocked, “From the look of things, they were mistreated and bound in chains so I will not ask you again, what did you do to them?!” he demanded loudly, “You could have just let them go, to wait outside.” he held his hands out, dropping the swords to create a powerful hue of blue arcane flame, “What’s your answer, and do choose your words carefully.” he squinted his Hazel eyes.
“We threw them in the Boxes, lockers to freeze fresh meats!” another man shouted, “How they escaped, we don’t know but they’ve ruined our way of life and storage lockers and two of the generators! And look…” he turned, gesturing around at the streets where many lifeless bodies lay, “they killed most of our men, sons and the Elders! We had no choice!”
“No choice?!” Marxus repeated, “No choice?!”
“We know you have Lycynians and Demons, but the girl with the black hair, she’s beyond anything we have seen, she’s a Demon-b*tch and killed my boys!” another man knelt down, crying for his two sons that lay dead, suffering from having their eyes and skulls burned clean through, looking as if hot pokers had been stabbed.
“And it’s because of that b*tch that we lost our food and all of the bountiful sacrifices for tonight’s feast!” one of the other men turned, kicking the man backwards, “But it matters not, you and your sons will be the meats for the stew tonight!” he spat at the man, then turned, leering at the Immortal.
Marxus stood, eyes growing wide at the mention of the man’s last string of words that both angered him, and made him feel nauseous. Taking a step forward, he shouted loudly, lowering his hands, extinguishing the blue flame.
“After I’m done with the lot of you, as of today, I guarantee there won’t be a single man, woman, or child that will survive to continue…” he paused, looking around, “whatever the hell this is! You are vile, unnatural abominations and you disgust me, going against the natural order of life with your inbred…” he paused again, seeing children nearby presenting genetic and physical disfigurements, “filth!” he spat at the ground, “I have destroyed far worse than any of you could fathom.”
“You would kill children, innocent children?!” a man argued.
Looking around, they were anything but innocent, and they weren’t children in Marxus’ eyes, not standing near the doors with knives, metal or glass shards in their hands.
The townsfolk said nothing more as they raised their hands, carrying their weapons, lunging toward the Immortal and it was a mistake for as they grew closer within his personal and limited boundary, the man raised his hands once more; a blue flame encircled them, before releasing powerful blasts of fire that disintegrated some of the men, while others quickly and fearfully stopped, backing away in terror. Staring into the man’s Hazel’s eyes that turned a pale, almost bluish-white in color revealing his Immortal status, the man’s blue flame had dwindled, being put out by the rains, sizzling loudly.
“Axeon…” Marxus summoned the dragon,“I need you.” he quickly looked at the sky, catching a glimpse of the beast that hid among the darkness of the clouds. Lowering his gaze and hands, he gripped the hilts of the two swords by his side, and engaged in momentary skirmish as the men lunged forward; he blocked their fierce and swift strikes, clashing their blades. Pushing them back with his own bulk, he stood, holding his swords in a dramatic pose, and it was then his frame outlined in a bright blue essence; to all eyes that were watching, it appeared that his white pea-coat changed its shape, extending its length lower around his ankles, and draping closely around his shoulders, much like that of a cloak, which it was. Think of it as one of the items that he had in his possession, amplifying his natural magical attributes.
Needing a moment to gather energy required for what came next, he created a dome around and above him; the thumping sound of the men and women pounding against it was no distraction.
The townsfolk gathered around the dome, watching as each of their attempts to break through, failed, causing violent and bright shimmers.
“Get back!” men shouted, watching as the man hidden behind the dome, raised his arms once more, stretching them out on either side of him, gathering energy.
“What’s he doing?!” one of the men blurted.
“What’s he saying?!” one of the women spat loudly.
Marxus closed his eyes, repeatedly muttering a chant in his Spanish tongue and as he finished each sentence, repeating and moving onto the next, his hands glowed once more but it was more intense, it was darker. Opening his eyes, leering at the townsfolk outside, feeling he gathered enough energy, he quickly knelt down, slamming his hands on the thick, muddy street in front of him and just as he made contact, the barrier around him exploded, sending his attackers flying backwards; the streets began rumbling violently. Raising his gaze toward men that weren’t close enough to suffer the blast wave, they aimed their rifles shooting their rounds, but the projectiles, it appeared, to be thrown away by a wave of his hand.
“H-he…he can’t be harmed!” one of the men whimpered, as he lowered his rifle, backing away, “He’s a Demon…” he was one of those that were superstitious.
“Get on with it then, ghost man!” another man shouted.
Scanning those that still persisted on going up against him, Marxus grew a faint grin, replying in his Spanish tongue, MUY BIEN then repeated the motion once more, slamming his hands on the street, but on a grander scale that shook the buildings, houses, shacks and whatever else stood within this town. Seconds after the rumbling settled, the structures had all begun crumbling into rubble, leaving nothing for anyone to retreat to, and if there were anyone trapped inside, there was no chance of survival. Not even basements were safe. All of the women shrieked, dropping their weapons, feeling the vibrations, and as they looked around watching their homes and town collapse into nothing, they cried for none of their sons, daughters, brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, could have survived such destruction.
“Where’s Marxus?!” Sarah worried as she held onto Nathan, who then pulled away.
Nathan groaned, then removed his notepad, writing a quick note for Sarah to read, “Marxus took my voice, but don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine. Are you all right?” he cupped her round face in his hands that had slowly grown his claws.
“I’m fine, you?” she pulled his hands away, growing scared.
“No!” he wrote with a frown, then climbed out of the van.
“Where are you going, Marxus said to say with the van!” Thomas shouted after him.
Scribbling another note down, “Unless you want me shifting here and now, tearing all of you apart, leave me the f*ck alone!” he then tossed the pad onto the seat then turned, running off into the distance, disappearing out of sight.
“He’s right.” Anthony too, climbed out, after reading the note.
“Tony?!” Thomas reached out, grabbing his brother’s arm, “What’re you doing, you can’t!”
“I have to, Thomas…” he gently pulled away, then looked at all of the curious, worried, and disgruntled faces, “I’ll find you, I promise.” he looked at Yzavela.
“Be careful.” I worried about him greatly, knowing he wasn’t in the compound on the Isle that was specifically walled off for the paranormals, but he would be in the wild where just about anyone, or anything, could find him.
“What was that?!” Jonathan suddenly heard a loud boom.
“I don’t know, but it didn’t sound good.” Erik frowned, as he felt the ground shake beneath the van that trembled slightly, “Knowing Marxus, I’m sure it wasn’t good.” he finished.
“Should we go after him?” Thomas wondered.
“No!” I affirmed loudly, “We were told to stay here and that’s exactly what we’re going to do! Besides, after what he put all of us through, I’m not helping him!” I huffed, then turned in my seat, facing Zanzabarr, “Look what you did, you lummox.” I scratched his wet fur around his neck, referring to the glass and the broken space where the trunk door should have been..
“She’s right…” Thomas agreed, “and since you didn’t listen to him before, you had better listen now!” he made sure those in the craft felt guilty about their actions, “And when he returns, I am damn sure you won’t hear the end of it, I’ve known him a long time and you don’t want that sort of anger lashed out on you.”
“We have a temperamental piss ant, I’m sure his temper is no big deal!” Erik added arrogantly, glancing at Yzavela.
“Excuse me?!” I argued, “Where the f*ck did that come from?!” I leered at him, “Hmm?!”
“Nothing, nevermind.” he turned away.
“Leave her be, Erik…” Jonathan intervened.
“Axeon?” I reached out telepathically, turning away from Erik, “Are you there?”
“I am.” the dragon finally answered, for his connection was blocked because of the Grid and the iron and steel sheeting.
“Where’s Marxus?” I glanced behind us toward the town, “Is he all right?”
“Yes. He is safe, but the town is not. He has called upon me, I must leave and whatever you do child, do not return.”
I gasped, feeling the connection break, then sitting quietly, thinking all of the scenarios taking place, I looked around. By the expressions on all of their faces, I was sure they wondered the same fears.
Standing, lowering his hands, Marxus looked at the sky once more watching as Axeon’s form soared through the clouds; he listened as the dragon released loud, ear-piercing roars as he flew close above the rooftops, shattering tiles and wood in the process from the strength and speed of his flight. Calling out to the ancient dragon in his Spanish tongue, he instructed him to incinerate everything and everyone, leaving nothing left but ash in its place.
“¡Axeon, quema todo y a todos, deja nada más que cenizas en su lugar!” then watching as the dragon turned his body with such speed and agility, he was like a bullet through the air.
Hovering above the town, releasing another loud roar, Axeon inhaled one strong breath, igniting the fire within him and in a massive bellow, like a blowtorch, he exhaled a powerful, and continuous flame of pure dragon’s fire that immediately, and without doubt, turned the fleeing figures below, looking like burning poppets, into ash seconds later as they fell forward; it didn’t matter where the townsfolk ran to, the magnificent dragon swerved his head side-to-side. Flapping his wings, he flew toward the other end of the town, far from where the van had parked, and released another long bellow heading in the opposite direction, making sure nothing, or no one could have survived. Expressing another deafening roar, the force from his wings spread the flames in all directions, mixing with the ash of men, women and children, animals and wood; even the metal frames of the towers and structures, had just melted away like butter in a pan.
Marxus stood behind his protective dome, making sure that the dragon’s flame didn’t just melt it away and burn him with the rest of the destruction taking place. Watching as Axeon’s form landed in the street several feet ahead of him, he slowly, and carefully, released the dome, waving away the smoke and ash. Covering his face with his gloved hands that were muddy and wet, he approached the dragon, quickly walking through, and coming to a collapsed building, Axeon blocked its path with his long tail.
“I would not venture any further.” the dragon warned.
“Let me pass.” Marxus boldly stated, “And I was not asking.”
Axeon groaned, bowing his head.
“As you wish, Immortal.” he backed away, slithering his tail aside, allowing the man to step forward.
Approaching close enough to catch the remnants of inside, he gasped in horror, for his eyes gazed upon the exposure of the horrendous and gruesome sight he had never thought were possible from mortal men. He couldn’t believe it; large metal hooks swung from the breeze that swept through, while there were mortal torsos and bones laying on the ground, with the limbs not too far away in piles that were burned. The sight of blood and the horrid smell of burning flesh sickened him; he turned, up-heaving outside, mixing his breakfast with the rain and mud. This was enough to get to anyone, even a man like Marxus, who yielded such strength and poise. Rushing away from the structure, he ordered Axeon to destroy what was left of the horrid scene; he turned, watching as the great dragon whipped his tail against the remaining beams, having it collapse within itself. Turning away, rubbing his gloved and muddy hands together, he strolled down the street; he ignored all of the destruction around him. Some might call it murder, other would call it justice, but sometimes a person is capable of doing this they have to.
Axeon turned, watching as the Immortal disappeared into the smoke, but could still make out his form by the outline from his white pea-coat. Making sure he was far enough away, the dragon pushed himself off the ground, flying toward the end of the town where a craft below, sat motionless.
As Marxus strolled through the town, up ahead, through the dark smoke and ash, he saw a tall figure dressed in a long, dark hooded coat that swayed in the strong breeze. Looking around, thinking maybe it might have been someone that had survived, or even reinforcements, Marxus became cautious as he continued walking toward them but as he grew closer, the smoke swept past the man until he eerily disappeared into it like a ghost or one of the dark creatures he regretted having to face, a Shadowed One. Pausing, he looked around, only to the find the same figure standing behind him in the opposite direction.
“Who are you?!” Marxus called out loudly enough to be heard.
“Does it matter?” the man answered in a low, deep voice.
“It does, yes. Now tell me who you are!” Marxus demanded.
“In time, Templar…” the figure elegantly bowed, “in time.”
Marxus watched as the man held out his arms, backing away, and as he slowly disappeared once more into the thickness of the surrounding smoke, the man’s hands glowed brightly in a red hellish flame before completely vanishing. Frowning, he turned and spun around, searching for the man after clearing away the smoke, but he was nowhere to be seen or found.
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