Deathbound Chapter 3.2

The water tower near the gates exploded, a raging torrent rushing out. The soldiers that were just getting to their feet were immediately swept under by the savage tide, screams bubbling from their lips.

Fenrir locked his hands around his throat, kicking out violently as the maelstrom caught him as well. The water twisted him on a demented axle, torturing his senses with endless, suffocating seas. Fenrir hit three more rocks, the oxygen slipping more from his body with each one.

He sputtered as the waves receded below his neck, and he was washed to the wet earth. The water streamed back along the ground, running up Kaiser’s clothes into a gurgling azure globe, which he twisted with contempt.

“Now, Director,” the queen said, warping the sphere into an evil-looking trident, “please choose your next words a bit more...sparingly.”

“Urblrgh.” Fenrir lay on his side, letting the water drain from his mouth.

Sylpher floated down from the air, holding his billowing clothes in place. “So, we kidnapping him now?” he asked. “Weren’t we supposed to just talk him into joining us?”

Kaiser shrugged. “Plans change.”

“You made the plan, though.”

“Sylpher, a plan is only as good as it can change to be.” Kaiser pushed his glasses up, and they glinted. “I simply decided to take a second route.”

“...You’re a scary guy, you know that?”

“Freeze!” The climactic word rang through the night, as the rest of the security guards in the complex poured out of the building. Surrounding the three, they raised rifles teeming with fresh gunpowder, ready to fire from all sides.

Sylpher’s hands flew up. “Ah, shoot! I mean, don’t shoot!”

Fenrir barked in laughter. “Ha! Who’s laughing no- ghlak!” The wolfman gagged as Kaiser hoisted him roughly up by the collar.

“Don’t make any plans,” Kaiser said, the spear of liquid glistening in his palm. “You know how hostages work, right?”

“This is so uncool,” Sylpher muttered, clasping his hands behind his head.

Silence filled the battlefield, the soldiers weighing their weapons, a score of eyes darting tersely. Then:

“Screw him!”

“We don’t care what happens to him!”

“Our orders are to kill intruders, no matter what!”

With this in mind, they raised their rifles, surrounding their boss and enemies. Fenrir gritted his teeth and growled to hide his tremble.

Kaiser sighed, pressing an index finger to his forehead. The ends of Sylpher’s lips began to curl upwards. “Heeey Kaiser…”

“No.”

“But Kaiser….”

“No.”

Sylpher’s eyes went big and watery. Kaiser tugged on his lapel, then sighed. “Fine. But next time, we follow the-”

“Yahoo!” Bright green glee exploded from Sylpher’s body, the winds whipping about his bizarre clothing. “Alright then!” he shouted, pulling his fists into a pose. “Let’s do it! Spirit of air!”

“Mind of water!” Kaiser recited, then shook his head. “And I was so looking forward to salvaging this base….”

Sylpher thrust his arm out, and the air began to swirl into his palm. The emerald aura intensified, gales slicing the earth with untold power. The water in Kaiser’s hand began to rotate about him as well, igniting his body with a blue flare. Fenrir watched in horror as their auras swept the night air into a whirling phantasm, blue and green blending into one catastrophic storm.

“Shoot them! Shoot them now!” Fenrir yelled his head off, but he was drowned out by the roaring waves. The guards eventually gathered their wits, though, and raised a row of gleaming gun-barrels towards them. But by then, it was, of course, too late.

“Fusion Attack!” The two Deathbound raised their elements and slammed them together. Their auras swirled together and pulsed violently, bringing the storm to its climax. Then, it vanished into their hands.

“Hurricane Crush!”

Kaiser and Sylpher tore their hands forward, and a gem-hued cyclone erupted forth. It howled over the screams of the guards as they were scattered by the beam of aura, the winds violently blasting them into the mountains.

Terror taking hold, Fenrir wrenched himself free and dove for his sword. His fingers seized around the handle, and he dug the huge blade into the ground, holding on for dear life as the rain drowned his senses. The Knight and Queen rotated their deathray, sweeping it in a full circle and clearing the outpost of any and all inhabitants.

As a girl flew by clutching the body of an unconscious guard, Fenrir looked up, squinting his eyes against the storm. Kaiser’s eyes were acute and glowing blue, while Sylpher was speaking gibberish in a loud voice. The colored lights streamed around their forms, until Sylpher’s winds faltered, and the last drop of water washed from Kaiser’s hand.

Fenrir slacked to the ground, the hurricane finally releasing its grip. The wolfman’s shirt had been blown apart, his pants shredded like heavy metal. Rocks had torn into his rough skin, and blood mixed with the dirt to create shadowy stains. As he hauled himself to his feet, he felt it. Like someone had shoved their hand into his chest, ripping out his spirit and crushing his hope.

“Well, Fenrir Wolfram?” Kaiser spread his arms in a masterful pose, but his shoulders heaved a bit, too. “What will you do now? By now, the difference in our power should be clear.”

“We’re the strongezt,” Sylpher added, though he was swaying side to side with glazed eyes. Sure enough, two seconds later he collapsed on his face, snoring like a bulletstorm. Kaiser sighed.

The wolf seethed through his fangs, leaning heavily on his blade. The base had been reduced to rubble, holes in the earth where the struts had been torn and tossed away. Silence was their backdrop, the guards having all been blasted from the cliffs. They’d survive, Fenrir knew. But his own fate was not so certain.

Fenrir shifted his weight backwards, cold sweat bleeding down his neck. Hopefully his vehicle was still where he’d left it, further downhill, but Kaiser would shoot him down if he tried to run. Even now, water was curling around the Queen’s arms, ready to fire and slice him to the bone.

For the first time in his life, Fenrir Wolfram was afraid.

Just then, something shot from the bowels of cement and steel, pinning Kaiser’s arms to his sides. “Director Wolfram!” the Pawn shouted, holding tight against the struggling Kaiser. “Please, escape!”

Fenrir stepped back, grimacing. He knew what he had to do; his pawn was his responsibility, placing faith in his power. And here the pawn was, trying to sacrifice himself so the rook could escape.

The wolfman uprooted his sword, gripping it resolutely. In a situation like this, to run away would be disgraceful…but perfectly reasonable.

With that, Director Fenrir Wolfram, Deathbound Rook of Iron, pivoted on the spot and sprinted away from the fight as fast as his feet would carry him.

At the edge of the plateau, he skidded to a stop. Kaiser was employing all manner of escape tactics against the pawn, gouging and tearing savagely at his skin. Through it all, the pawn held on.

Such a noble sacrifice, Fenrir thought, raising his sword. Though if you really wanna make it stick, I’ll help you along.

Shutting one eye, he aimed the ginormous blade at the struggling duo. A bloody smile appeared on his face as he locked his muscles and said, “Blade Launcher.”

The handle bucked against his wrist as the sword’s blade rocketed off towards Kaiser. Fenrir saw the split-second fear, the desperate movements, before the pillar of iron impaled their chests, plowing through their flesh, bone, and organs as one. The two Deathbound stood still for a moment, swaying in the darkness, then collapsed sideways, the blade weighing them into the bloodstained dust.

Grim silence fell over Fenrir as he stood alone on the cliff. He turned away, dreading the report, the panic, the future that this meant for him. The mountainside looked steep and rocky from here.

A single groan, carrying on the night wind, broke the silence. Fenrir froze, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, rigidly, he turned his head to look.

Kaiser’s glasses were luminous in the dark, his teeth set in a grimace. Moving his hands forward, he dragged himself along the blade, dying the metal with his blood. And all the while, the Queen stared directly at Fenrir, reaching out with his haunting gaze to shake the Rook to his very core.

Horror sank into Fenrir’s chest, melting at his courage until there was none left. He ran, ran, and ran down the mountainside, vanishing into the sweet haven of darkness.

That night, the immortals bled, and the Deathbound knew fear. A storm was coming, ready to fight them into eternity, and humanity could only guess what came next.