The Gathering

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Chapter Twenty-Five

     The arena is not very large, catering mostly to human or humanoid sized creatures. However, it is five times higher than wide and simply constructed in way of architecture, exhibiting only the various bloodstains as mementos of past glories. The fighters are predominately slaves or Gladiators, typical to the old Roman Empire of Julius Caesar’s era. Nothing much has changed, in way of low tech and minimal ostentation’s, since the old fighting grounds. Yet, the primary materials in its construction are alien metals and synthetics, as opposed to the traditional stone and wood. The spectators observe from extended, metal lip platforms that protruded from the arena’s ceiling. They are large enough to accommodate species averaging into the late teens of feet tall. Only a few of these sizes can stand on any one platform at once. There are no restrictions on these platforms - in way of barriers or railings. The observers are free of obstructions from their line of sight, which heightened the experience. The rules are clear; no one is to interfere with the fight as it was in progress. Any person entering the arena becomes fair game for the contenders. Often, as the number of fighters grew, the number of Gladiators grew respectively both in number and size. This also included mass and strength advantages, for no one was unique and without opponent within these walls. And again, there is no such animal as ‘fair game’ here within the bowels of the Empress of the Dark.

     The crowd roars in exhalation as a new battle begins to unfold below. Death Match, as if they were any differences here, was the ultimate challenge as a lowly slave faces the overwhelming odds of a supernatural opponent. Often, they offered the challenger a weapon, yet it served more as an insult than a defensive tool in a situation like this. Inexplicably, the challenger did not accept the weapon offered and simply exits as was. The crowd’s enthusiasm elevates to a sub mach howl, almost shattering the domed ceiling on top of them.
     Carter looks upon the spectators in disgust, as they cry for blood and gore in the many voices and languages known to the cosmos. Suddenly, Deano’s voice finds its way through the crowd and she senses the level of shock within it. “He’s only a boy.” He states, as he looks more stunned than disgusted at the challenger as he exits.
     “Look,” Sam bellows as he points toward the child. “His balls haven’t even dropped.” He finishes, with a half-twisted smile painting his lips. His black teeth glitter under his fine trace of slightly pink lips, which is nothing more than slivers of flesh.
     Carter turns her gaze toward the direction of the pointing finger to see the idol of which the butcher points at. “My god?” She mumbles, in disbelief. She quickly rises to her feet and steps to the very edge of the platform to extend a better look upon the small, naked boy who stood, shaken and scared, mere feet away from the entrance. The guards urge him on, as he remains abated by the torrent cries of the crowd. Making him look weak and vulnerable is his slightly hunched over posture. His emaciated frame made it look as though he has a hump on his back. However, those are simply his shoulder blades, nearly pushing their way through his flesh. This was a hue of rot and as though scarred by fire, which never had a chance to heal. His exaggerated arms are long and thin, for a small frame that appears to be no taller than five feet. His legs may have just been too short for his size. There is no meat to the child, as the sinews of his muscles ripple as he moved forward, drawing nearer to the center of the ring. His approach meets the on coming of his opponent. The Gladiator enters the arena without losing stride, despite the bulk of his metallic, mechanized shell that hung tightly to his back. The lavishly ornamented volute frame sparkles from the various metals and materials. Its overall color stems from deep, metallic silver with gold trims. However, it is the multitude of hydraulics and circuitry fitted that disturbed Carter as she watches the professional warrior near his opponent. The Gladiator is nowhere near being human or humanoid as he begins to exit his shell, which she believes to be an unfair advantage and begins to protest the fact. Yet, she calms as she watches the slug-like creature exit the frame, secreting massive amounts of slime to facilitate the effort. The arena quickly fills with the stench of the slime and the crowd did not let this go unnoticed. They boo and threaten as they prepare for the battle. The creature has reddish flesh that shunned the light under the coating of slime, which hung to every surface of the arena and shell. He had a stub for a tail and a head the same size of his body, yet there is no neck connecting the two. His eyes are wide spaced and placed on opposing sides of the head. He requires turning his head to look forward as the other eye maintains vigilance over the rest of his body. His forehead stumbles into a long, snout-like nose that is reinforced by a thick, pouty lip. He first samples the air of the room with short, rapid breaths through his nose. He then lowers his snout to the ground and begins to sniff, facing the direction of the boy. The child appears appalled by the appearance of his opponent as he attempts a step back, but holds his ground as though reliving a memory. His wide, baby Buddha forehead begins to twitch as his eyebrow-less face focuses intently on the Gladiator. His black eyes then narrow in and his general mood begins to ease, shifting from fear to assertiveness. This denoted from the change in his stance, as the Gladiator continues to sniff the ground then inches forward. Suddenly, the creature shoots up to erection, pinching his neck so that his left eye can look upon his victim. A mere boy to him, an easy prey as his posture lightens and eases. The boy falls into a meditative state and waits for the first move.
     For the supernatural, who can defy the restraints of time and space in both strength and movement, motion is relative only to the observer. The Gladiator-slug moves with supernatural strength, as its main body remains in place, firmly anchored to the ground. Lifting the upper carriage off the deck, it strikes out like a viper’s thrust, striking the child hard to his chest. The child reels backward. He tumbles head over heals in an uncontrollable throw and stops only when he hits the wall. However, uncannily he straightens’ up directly from the fall. He moves in a single motion and resumes his meditative pose. The slug looks on in confusion. This, a mood shared by every spectator for they had grossly misjudged and underestimated the child. A trickle of blue blood leaks from his crimson, almost painted lips.
     Sam laughs without restraint as he resumes pointing at the child. “What is he? Twelve? I had a bigger pecker at four. What is this? Transvestites’ night out?” He continues his hysterical rant that drowns the silence of the arena.
     The Gladiator continues forward at a human pace. He then lowers his snout to within an inch of the deck then suddenly pukes a viscous froth, which ignites as it evaporates upon contact with the air. The fire gout streams toward the child and quickly encompasses him under flames. Carter screams out in horror as the crowd bellows for more.
     Suddenly, the flames begin to subside as though snuffing it self out. As the flames fall, it begins to appear more as though the child was absorbing the energy within himself. The froth quickly cakes and forms a crust over the deck, with many sharp edges extending upward as though reaching for heaven. A moment of silence lapses between contestants as they exchange a glance and the mood begins to change. The Gladiator becomes cowardly, as he attempts to back away from the boy and the child’s stance straightens and he becomes more self-assured. Suddenly, his eyes begin to glow as his body bursts into flames. However, the blades of fire do not scorch his flesh, as it becomes more like his flesh as it feeds from him. “A Burster?” Carter exclaims. More like a question.
     The glowing red flames change to white as the metal deck begins to pool from the heat. He steps nearer toward the Gladiator, wishing to inflict pain, this written in his eyes. The crowd begins to cheer him on, as they propose the death of the Gladiator in unison. The child slowly raises his hands before him and suddenly launches the sharp shards of the remnant crust from the deck. The pieces accelerate toward the slug with blinding force. The creature is unequipped to dodge such an assault. The crowd watches and cheers as the Gladiator’s flesh tears under the barrage. Their fevered screams become unbearable for Carter, as she bares witness and feels Deano’s unrest beside her. She hears only a brief resemblance of Deano’s voice as it says something along the lines of “There they are.” Her attention focuses on the child as he telekinetically raises his opponent some twelve to fifteen feet in the air. He then hurls the body toward the massive arena wall, which contains the fighters, preventing them from escape. The slug slams against the solid surface and bounces back and bursts into flames. The creature is obviously immune to the effects of fire, even supernatural. However, his pores begin to bleed as the slime smolders from the intense heat and erupt in small spurts of agonizing lava. His face tears with rapture as he is held at bay by the child’s immense psychic power. The child’s eyes begin to bleed. This time red drops of coarse liquid fall freely across the contours of his placid face. In that moment, he appears far older than his body betrayed.
     Carter did not sense the departure of Deano. However, his absence became obvious as she hears Sam’s yell of satisfaction and bewilderment. “This Kid’s pretty fucking good.” Then he continues his marathon shout, in exhalation. She quickly looks around to assure herself of Deano’s safety, yet he was not to be seen. She then widens her field of vision and scans the arena for any sign of him.
     The Gladiator’s wounds become so severe that they begin to crumble his supernatural flesh. The skin splits issuing thick wads of blood from the deep chasms. The stench supersedes the effects of the slime yet the crowd did not take notice. Carter struggles to hold back the contents of her stomach else she would vomit where they stood. Raising a hand to her mouth and nose to suppress the smell, she catches a glimpse of a transparent form off on a neighboring platform. “Deano.” She curses as the body detonates, sending massive chunks of burning flesh splashing to the arena floor. The larger, remaining piece of the main trunk falls limp to the deck and bounces before finding stability. From the arena wall, small gates begin to open, silencing the cry of the spectators. Suddenly, miniature dragon-like Dinosaurs emerge, hobbling toward the fallen. These are carrion feeders who act as cleaners for the arena. They eat without hesitation or discrimination, the bodies of the dead. Suddenly, the spectators begin to demonstrate their appreciation for their entertainment. Those who had, throw down the bodies of their young slaves who remained chained at their sides for the duration of their stay. These bodies, which are female and alive upon their leap, fall to the ground as offerings for the various creatures that fight and win. However, the child did not appear interested in the gifts, as he remains transfixed upon his victim, whose remains are being quickly devoured. He than lowers his head in exhaustion and begins to regain himself amidst the carnage of the mob.
     Sam adds to the shouts of enthrallment as his excitement rises to the gore of the bodies being eaten by the savage, little creatures. Carter watches Deano as he approaches a cheering spectator, unseen by another person. She can see the intent in his eyes as he centers only on one of the five people standing there. The ledge, where his intended victim stood, suddenly collapses under his feet sending him downward toward the arena floor. One of his companions almost falls victim to the collapse, yet catches himself and leaps backward. He notices the ethereal-like form of Deano as he backs away and melds into the darkness of the hallway behind the platform. “This isn’t going to be good.” She says, more to her self as Sam cheers on the death of the new body. However, his gaze quickly shifts from the man to the boy as the boy slowly looks up and directs his stare upon him. They exchange a moment as the crowd suddenly falls to calm and silence. Sam did not feel the effects of the child’s control, for it was directed toward the other spectators. Carter could sense the shift of mood, not that the obvious silence needed to be noted. She listens to the emanation of what could be described as purring from the arena. The carnivorous Dinosaurs stop and begin to sway to the rhythm of the child’s guttural music. For once, for what she felt, was Sam silenced by some unknown presence that the child could manipulate. She watches the beads of sweat form on his bald, veiny head as he stares blindly downward into the pit. The child releases his hold and leaves the arena, only looking once at the guards, individually. They back away and allow him passage and he fades beyond the black of the bars below.

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Chapter Twenty-Six

     Pillars, beams, webs and girders pass by as he melds through the decks, falling to the lower levels. The empty tween deck structures reveal many architectural weaknesses, for one with his many abilities. Suddenly the ship rattles under massive shockwaves as the decks pulse from a vibrational force that shatters alien materials. Passengers look upon them and watch their solidity dematerialize before their eyes. Panic becomes their reaper as they assume an attack of a different kind. Those who can, attempt to teleport out but find their abilities neutralized by the ships interior defenses. Deano concentrates his focused attacks on support pillars as they shatter and crumble upon themselves bringing down decks upon them. The ship begins to buckle on one side as engines come to a full stop. It carries on for a distance as momentum propels them through the daylight ocean.

     Carter rushes past the urgent denizens as they attempt to force their way through the exits of the arena. The struggle quickly evolves into an all out war as the more powerful impose their grandeur upon the others. Sam quickly jumps into the fray as he strikes down a meditating shape-changer, soon to become a dragon. The creatures’ head coils from the attack as the blow shatters its cheekbone. It falls to the ground, capturing smaller creatures beneath it. They scream for release with Sam laughing at their horror. He unexpectedly receives an elbow to his abdomen, for his efforts. He looks upon the death wish and delivers a decimating head butt squarely to the creatures’ nose bridge. The demon crumbles at his knees as the wound spurts viscous blood upon those who remain close in proximity. She shoulder-hoists a demon at the knees, as it attempts to bully its way into the crowd. It rolls over her and solidly lands to the deck behind her, crashing into a dragon attempting to teleport out, causing a cascade of effects.
     Suddenly, a second shudder as the ship begins to list over. Decks fade in the distance as beings fall within the void. The fortunate, the winged, flight capable simply reappear and for its efforts, pummeled by a rain of debris. Metal beams disconnect from the tank top plating and fall upon them, burying them in the hole of the collapsed decks. Deano uses the transversal bulkhead as a bouncing board as he dodges the throws of a megalithic being. He hits the deck with the tip of his toes and launches himself, back facing his opponent, and completes a somersault as he delivers a double toe kick to the base of the neck. The creature rushes forward, still unaware of his opponents’ lack of presence and greets the on-pour of falling debris from overhead. Deano lands on his knees and rolls up and continues off into the hall before him. His long, blue hair creates a wave of passing streaks as his shoulder collides into an unsuspecting Sunaj Guard. The Atlantian crumbles to the deck, rolling up into a ball as his side arm curls across the deck -- To the waiting hands of a Blind Woman. She feels the solid device hit her fingers as she picks herself up from the on rush of the fleeing. First was the familiar ring of armor slapping against the metal deck, then the ping of the weapon, then the eyes as they see the small, black form standing over the Atlantian. Recognition -- the alien, who terrorized Splynn, killed secret services of the Splynn Underground, and hundreds of slaves and civilians. All to make a point, to show Lord Splyncryth the infinitesimal control he actually has over the world. That it is the unknown that will hunt him down and kill him -- By killing the innocence. To fire a weapon blindly is their gift, her gift as she sees through the magical orbs, which constantly survey the many spaces of the ship. Without them, she is blind -- truly and utterly. She takes careful aim and fires. The pulsing beam of off blue energy streams directly toward her target. The ensuing crackles, from the vaporization of air molecules, in the atmosphere, fill the space between them on its passage toward him and pass through him and into the oncoming crowd. She stares dumbfounded and concerned as his ethereal form slowly creeps up toward her and materializes. Sharp-clawed fingers enter, what feels womb, and desiccates her entrails. She falls to the ground her last image is that of the guard coming to, on the deck beside her.
     “Come on! This way…” She yells out to him over the discord of chaos manifested over the chaotic denizens of the now failing Empress of the Dark. Sam repeats the successive bashing of a demon’s head with his blood-littered fist. The creature struggles despite being pinned against a crippled bulkhead. Spit and blood sprinkle from his mouth as he yells obstinately into his opponents’ face -- his fist continuing to descend upon it. Quickly the creature's legs fail and it falls upon his urging. The bulkhead follows suit blanketing it under a steel curtain. He then follows her away from the centralized group. Suddenly, a sharp pain rushes through his left lower back. His left leg begins to feel warm as his blood trickles downward and saturates him. He simply looks discontentedly at the piercing, brilliant edge that exits through a mass of muscle, which contains his intestines. With a blind throw, he extends his left arm and wraps his fingers around thick, solid flesh and squeezes. This time, as he kills, he growls of pure hatred, out of vengeance and not joy. His seductive blue eyes look deep into the rending soul of his attacker as it, he, looks upon him with blind fury. Penance, be his as a reddish glow emits from his captive and a white, ethereal aura steps out, up and away to just slightly above him. The grimace of the aura simply smiles with jaded teeth then dissipates into the coming cloud of debris smoke. Then a warm hand on his left elbow as he swings around with a violent blow from his right elbow and lands directly into her waiting free hand. She parries his attack and urges him to follow with a simple smile in her eyes. He does and they fade into the cloud and beyond a crippled hall.