literature

In the Demon's Shadow

Deviation Actions

TemplarOfBacon's avatar
Published:
341 Views

Literature Text

In the Demon's Shadow

By: Troy Covington


On the Beginning of the Darkness:

If you have found this note, likely but a torn parchment lain
but neath a rock or stone, then heed the wisdom that I
tell you now, for there will be many in this dark halls of stone
and dead. I will start at the beginning. Believe it or not, there
was once a time in this gods-forsaken world when humanity
lived above the surface.  There were great fortresses and cities
built there, and mankind graced the whole of the land. A great
empire was formed out of these lands, though the name of such still
eludes me. They had armies of men, thousands, perhaps tenfold
more. They had the bounty of the land at the tips of their fingers.
Then all that changed.

The dead do not cry, they say. I myself believe that those who died
on the surface cry even now. It was the coming of the demons. A shadow,
great and terrible, gripped the empire, and demons arose from darkness,
earth, and flame. It was inevitable that the empire would fall in a matter of
days to the hordes of those foul beasts. Survivors from this empire fled
underground, to tunnels and large halls once built to house royalty and
families of great prestige. Ironic, that the poor and fearful took refuge
in them. Now, two-hundred and sixty years later, here we are now, the
descendents of those who survived, and we still strive to survive even now.
How do I know all this? Books. I have learned this from books found
in an old ruined library within these underground ruins.

I write this now with my very fingernail upon parchment found within
this library, and with the blood of the demons I have slain to get there.

I am Haedrun, scholar-warrior, demon hunter.

May they all die.

~Haedrun





The fire crackled and spat in the deep, almost impenetrable ocean of shadow within the hall. It's light barely shone through the darkness, illuminating only a few feet around it. Malaken stared at the flames, unmoving, unblinking. Embers danced about all around it, a ritual of worship to the fire. The fire seemed to shrink now and then, seemingly in fear of the forest of shadow that always pressed at it from all sides.

The fire became intense suddenly. His vision began to grow narrower and sharper, as it suddenly focused upon the fire. His eyes widened, the light of the fire casting a great reflected glow upon them.

"Malaken!"

He blinked. The fire was normal, unchanged from what it had been. He gave breath of doubtful relief.

"Yes, Uriac?"

The thick-jawed, shorthaired Uriac looked at him with a subtle grimace of impatience, replying in a hushed, but calm tone. "We're heading out now, stop staring at the damned campfire and grab your stuff."

Malaken made a quick nod of acknowledgement in his direction. Uriac returned the gesture and continued on his usual habit of strolling around the camp for any items the group may have forgotten.

Malaken looked around. The glow of the fire struggled to illuminate the faces of the rest of the group. Directly across from where he sat, one of the faceless men gathered around stood up.

"I don't suppose we have any food left, do we?" questioned the figure, his voice that of a man just grasping his early 30's.

"No Turem" said another man, leaning against a large rock situated just to the right of the campfire, "No food until tomorrow morning. You know the rules."

Even in the darkness of the ruin, one could tell that a frown had birthed itself upon Turem's gaunt face. "Damn rations. At this rate we will all starve to the grave."

"Buric is right Turem. Stop your complaining. We're all hungry" interrupted another, higher-pitched voice.

Alyren, the only female member of the group, stood atop the rock Buric had been leaning against. The height allowed the firelight to reveal her face. Her skin was pale and dotted with various sores and lesions. Even his straight, dark brown hair could not cover it all up. It was hard to believe that she had once been considered a very beautiful woman.

All that would come out of Turem, on the other hand, was a low grumbling. Malaken was unsure as to whether that was his being upset, or his stomach.

Malaken reluctantly pulled himself up from the rocky, jagged ground he had been forced to sleep upon earlier. After a few moments of stretching and aching, he grabbed his sword and belt-pack from the ground. The other's quickly followed suit.

Uriac, having finished his rounds around the area, came upon Maleken's flank and began to mutter in his ear.

"How long do you think she's going to last?" He motioned towards Alyren with his head.

Malaken sighed and whispered back, "Not long, I think."

Uriac shook his head a few times and gave a quick pat on Malaken's shoulder before turning around to face the rest of the group.

"Alright everyone! Let's keep moving!" He said it just loud enough so everyone could hear. Even the quietest sounds could echo throughout the entire underground hall, and that was something no one wanted to risk.

The group began their trek, walking amidst the darkness of the cavernous ruins, Uriac leading from the front. Practically blind in the shadow of the deep, the group marched through ensuring that every step was a careful one, lest one accidentally fall into a pit or trip over rubble. Uriac, however, seemed to walk on with a stride, the cadence of his step never missing a beat, a testament to his 4 years as a demon hunter.

It wasn't long before they made their way into a large, lit hall. Bluish-hued light from the surface far, far above managed to crawl its way all the way down here through cracks and holes in the ceiling. Shards of it's rays pierced the massive open spaces of the hall like long arrows. Everyone was relieved to finally be able to see clearly.

A few great stone pillars still stood, reaching far up to the ceiling of the hall, like great, outstretched arms. Intricate engravings and segments lined the sides of them, designs made from people long ago. Rubble polluted nearly every inch of the ground, with broken fragments of pillars, walls, and buildings lying idle all around. Cracks and nicks were prevalent in the structures that were still standing. Chasms presented themselves at the edges of the hall, leading even deeper underground, and likely to nothing but death. On the far other side lay a massive doorway, likely to yet another section of the ruins.

"There should be a tunnel leading left once we get to the end of here" commented Turem, whom was staring at a map he was holding while walking. His expression was in a fixed state of focus, sometimes brushing away the disheveled, neck-length black hair that would get in the way of his sight now and then.

"You sure about that?" remarked Uriac, still keeping his eyes ahead. "Last time you said we make a left, we ended up straight inside a demon's nest."

"Well," scoffed Turem, "How was I supposed to know that was there? These maps are over a hundred years old you know! Half of these caverns could be collapsed or caved in for all we ca—"

"Yea yea, we've heard it nearly a thousand times now already!" interrupted Buric, his eyes rolling. Scars were laid across his bald scalp, complementing the nicks and bruises across his wide-jawed face. Fitting for the one in the group who actually took joy in fighting demons.

"Say that all you like, but if it weren't for me, we'd all have been dead back at the King's Tomb!"

"Yea? Well if it weren't for me, we'd still have that hellhound chewing on our asses!"

"That's enough!" Uriac had finally turned his gaze back towards the rest, the wrinkles in his forehead narrowed down, his eyes showing a fiery contempt. Buric and Turem immediately ceased their bickering. Uriac was their leader for a reason.

Halfway through turning his sight forward again, Uriac suddenly halted. He raised his hand to motion everyone to stop. Confusion was emblazoned all over his face. Something was wrong.

"Alyren hasn't said a word this whole time…" he half-muttered. Turem, Buric, and Malekn both turned around. Alyren always kept pace from the back of the formation. Normally she always let slip a sarcastic remark or biting comment in everyone's arguments.

She wasn't anywhere in sight.

Uriac put his hand to his face and gritted his teeth for a moment before ordering, "Lets split up and find her."

Malaken went with Uriac, while Buric accompanied Turem, as per usual. The two teams began to scour around the ruin, checking around rubble and crannies for any sign of Alyren, only stopping every few minutes to make sure they didn't lose sight of eachother.

Off and on, Malaken, just a short distance behind Uriac, would hear him mumbling and cursing under his breath. He had never seen him this worried before.

After what seemed like hours searching, Buric, several meters away from them, let out a shout. Malaken and Uriac both about-faced towards the sound. Buric beckoned them to him. He had found her. Uriac instantly strode towards there with hell's fury. Malaken ran, still not keeping up with the stressed man.

When he got there, Malaken was greeted with a disturbing sight. There was Alyren, with blisters and sores blanketing her entire body, lying beside a massive fallen pillar fragment. The lids of her eyes struggled to open as she struggled to see the others. Moisture and sweat crowded around her forehead and nose. Lesions and sores embraced her cheeks and neck as if like a scarf. Mold had grown out of the sides of her bruised lips like dried blood. She was breathing heavily, in pain and in misery.

"DAMNIT!" yelled Uriac.

The other three swerved their eyes towards him. They had never seen Uriac explode like this before. They had never even though it possible. He had always been cool and collected, even when Alyren first became sick. Perhaps he wasn't so cold after all?

All was silent as he paced back and forth, rubbing his forehead grievously. Finally, Malaken intervened.

"Uriac, it'll…it'll be alright. There's still ti—"

Uriac turned and walked right up his face. "No! No, don't you understand!? This is fatal now! There's no fixing this! No curing this! She's dead!" He paused, then quietly growled "And you know it."

Malaken didn't say another word. He knew Uriac as right.

After a few more steps of pacing, Uriac walked up to Alyrens struggling body and kneeled down to her.

"Alyren….Alyren listen to me…" he choked, a trepidation and sadness had settled itself into his voice. "Alyren…look at me."

Alyren could barely muster the strength to turn her head, let alone speak.

"Alyren…."

"Father…"

Uriac's eyes widened.

"Father…I love you, you know that" she cracked, her voice barely audible. A faint smile broke about her face. "St-stop worrying…worrying." Her head nodded down to the left. Her smile faded.

She was dead.

Uriac screamed. He broke into crying, his shivering hands desperately trying to hide the tears from everyone else. The other's just stared in awe. They had just witnessed a man break.
No man should see his daughter die, Malaken thought. When they had first started this expedition, this journey into the neverending darkness of the ruins they lived in, he though Uriac was insane to allow his own daughter in this journey. Maybe he was trying to act indifferent, tough even, just so the rest of us wouldn't lose heart. Or maybe, he thought that she deserved a chance, a mere possibility, to see the surface with him, the ultimate dream all demon hunters share.
Alyren was a tough woman, perhaps the most enduring one Malaken had ever seen. Her skill with the blade was matched only with her knack for instinctual survival. Now, here she was, a now-rotting limp corpse, dead from a mere disease. Even the mightiest warriors and killers were forced to kneel at the legs of sickness. An inevitability all demon hunters must face. Perhaps the only optimism Malaken could conjure for her was that she did not die alone in the dark, like so many others.

A rumble in the ground.

"What's that!?" Turem gasped.

Uriac steadily looked up, his red face stained with dirt-encrusted tears. His jaw shakily moved to speak, "They're coming."

The chittering and guttural echoes of demons resonated in the darkness of the hall's corners. The demons smelled death. They had found them.

Everyone pulled out the swords from their sheathes, with the exception of Uriac, who sat there, staring at his lost daughter.

The group made a circle formation around the body. Buric's muscled arms strained as he gripped his two-handed sword in rage. Turem's eyes darted all over the place, desperate to see where the demon's would launch their attack from. Malaken held is sword firmly. A shiver of worry went down his spine, tingling his very soul.

The sound of marching and skittering stopped. All was silent. The deep breath right before the plunge.

Then chaos.

Demons big and small poured out of crevices in the walls, up from the ground, and from all around. Hordes upon hordes of them came, countless in number. They were beastlike in form, horns protruding from their heads and faces, shoulders and backs, all in varied places, for no demon was the same. They were a mass of black, charred, and brown skin. The sounds of their horrid language sounded out, the echoes of their two simultaneous voices emanating from their gnarled jaws.

Then they were upon them. The clash of steel upon flesh erupted, as demon after demon charged and leapt and dashed towards the group of men. Malaken carved his sword across the face of one demon as it attempted to claw his face. Another came up behind him, but Malaken thrust his sword through it's gut. After he pulled it out, Malaken took a brief second to glance around. Turem had been tackled by flying demon with wings and was struggling to push it away. Buric had shoved a demon into the wall, breaking it's head, before cutting off the arm of another with his large blade. There was atleast two score of demon corpses lying about his feet.

A guttural shriek. Malaken turned around only to face a demon inches away from biting his very face off. Malaken quickly jabbed it's chest with the pommel of his sword, stopping it short from tearing his skin with it's teeth. He then spat in it's eye and shoved the sword deep down it's throat, dark blood spurting out and across his blade.

Uriac's yells could be heard. He had just recovered from his lethargy and was swinging his weapon around at his foes like a madman. Malaken, spurred by the onset of another man joining the fight, continued to slash at his own opponents. Four demons fell, then eight more, then fifteen. Yet still, more and more came, over rubble, over pillars, through nooks and crannies in every fallen structure. Soon demons wielding blades and maces made out of broken iron and charred wood appeared, armored in scraps and the toughness of their hides appeared on the front lines, and swiftly rallied the other demons to even greater heights of insane fervor. The group of demon hunters inched closer and closer to each other as the multitudes of dark creatures pushed harder and harder against their formation. Malaken risked another glance at his companions. Turem was lying upon the ground, a massive black blade rooted into his lifeless heart. Buric had a monstrous gash across his back, and yet he still fought on, felling demon afted demon. Uriac, however, was killing the most of those monsters, for in his berserk rage, no demon could withstand him.

Malaken returned his focus upon those in front of him. The battle raged on for over a half hour. Hundreds of demons lay dead. The smell of blood and dirt wafted in the air and pierced the senses. Eyes watered and teeth gnashed as blood and flayed skin littered the floor. Buric had died, his legs broken by demons as they disemboweled him with their maws. It took six demons to take him down at once. Uriac was still fighting and screaming. Still, demons rushed forth. Malaken counted nearly thirty were still roaring in their rage.

A low, guttural echo and thunderous footsteps. A greater demon, as tall as nearly four tall men standing on top of each others shoulders, came forth from the darkness of the ruin beyond, stones cracking and crumbling beneath it's feet. Its eyes glowed a vile green, pupil-less and slanted. Its jaw was dark and toothed, the mandible the sharpest, like jagged rock. Its skin had the appearance of bone more than flesh. Great horns rose from its head like black stalagmites. Massive wings embraced its back. It made slow, deep breaths from its nostrils, echoing throughout the embattled ruin. Uriac took one look at it, and charged, senseless rage in his eyes. Malaken continued to fight the rest of the demons, who seemed to now be intent to stop Uriac's long gait towards the greater demon. Malaken was not about to let these wretches stop his leader.

Malaken slew many demons attempting to pursue Uriac. Once those who survived realized this, they changed tactics and begun to circle around and fight Malaken, trapping him and forcing Uriac into a one on one fight with the greater demon. Uriac slashed, stabbed, and kicked at that great beast, wounding it in many places, but it was to no avail. As Malaken fended off his attackers, he could see through the dust and blood the result. The greater demon had just impaled Uriac with his monstrous claws, and in a moment of triumph, casually flung the body into the darkness behind it.

It then made one glance at Malaken, and began lumbering to him. Malaken, in a moment of complete adrenaline, pushed back the blades and claws of the demons around him and killed them, one by one. Blood, that of the demons and of his own, painted much of his body and face. By the time the greater demon had approached, all the lesser ones were dead. Before Malaken turned to face this threat, the creature threw him several feet in the air and into a ruined pillar fragment nearby. Malaken hit it with a large thud and fell the ground. He breathed heavy as blood dripped from his mouth. He was too weak to get up, too tired, too wounded. He felt his life leaving him. He began to feel empty, as the gargantuan abomination stomped towards him.

Suddenly everything went slow. All he could hear was the thumping of his heart. An image of the fire returned, bright and red, as it slowly enveloped all he could see. Malaken then did not feel worry. He did not feel dread. He just stared at the light of the fire, unmoving, unblinking. Suddenly a feeling poured into him. The wounds and scratches caused by the demons on his body seemed to fuel him. He felt the need to fight on, as the pain increased his focus. A dark rage boiled itself into his heart.

Everything returned to normal.

The greater demon's great claw was swinging in the air, about to crush fragile skeleton of this mortal man. He rolled aside, barely dodging it, and climbed back onto his feet, and picked up the jagged sword of a dead demon. Whatever had just happened, Malaken knew he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for it. He plunged the sword deep into the ankle of the beast. It slumped down onto one knee, crippled by this attack. Still, it began to swing its other arm, the glow of its eyes brightening. Malaken jumped atop the knee of its right leg, narrowly evading its claws. Grabbing the demon by its upper jaw and pushing down on the other with his right foot, he pryed its jaw open. Its eyes opened wide, as it realized what was occurring. Before it was able to do anything, Malaken shoved the sword far up its mouth, sinking it right into the inside of its skull.

An echo of pain, then silence.

The giant slumped down into the ground as Malaken leapt off the safety of a pile of rubble. The greater demon was dead. The quake of its fall caused rocks to fall and crevices in the ceiling to cover up. Where there had once been light, now darkness began to fall. Malaken could only stand there, breathing heavily, staring at nothing, while shadows began to envelope the world around him.

Now he was to be alone in the darkness, his friends dead, and likely himself to die. Their goal of reaching the surface was gone. Their goal of surviving disappeared as fast as thin air. Hundreds of demons lay around his feet, and yet he could still feel nothing but misery. Was this the end? Was this all that one could look forward to in life? Dying in the dark, alone, no friends, no food, no water?

In the silence of the moment, Malaken could not help but think of one phrase, a phrase he read not long ago on something he found days earlier. As the lights disappeared and darkness overtook everything in sight, Malaken, in a sigh of tragic confidence, said that one phrase.

"May they all die."

Then, darkness.
A short story I had to write for school. Yes yes I know I haven't posted anything in a while, you can blame school and video games on that :D

The story isn't perfect, but I may fix it up later.

Done within less than two days. Obviously the lack of time spent on it shows I'm sure
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In