A Night of Dragon Wings - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,48

have felt the heat. Some beast, some evil, crawled outside the cell. Its breath snorted as if sniffing for flesh, and claws clanked against the floor, and the shadow neared, and finally the creature appeared at the doorway.

Treale froze. Such terror pounded through her she couldn't even scream.

She had faced wyverns in battle over Ralora Beach. She had seen the death of her parents. She had sailed from Osanna to Tiranor and survived for days in these dungeons, witnessing the blood and gore and agony of Tiranor's torture. Yet she had never seen anything that filled her with such pounding, twisting, screaming terror. Her teeth clenched, sweat drenched her, and her knees felt soft as wet cloth.

"Stand behind me, Mori," Treale whispered. Without removing her eyes from the creature, she knelt, placed Mori upon the floor, and straightened again. She raised her club with shaking, clammy hands.

The creature regarded her, one eye bright yellow, the other milky white and swollen. It crawled on hands and knees, body long and lanky, its bones thrusting against leathery skin. It looked almost like a man, but far too large; Treale guessed it would stand fifteen feet tall, if it had room to straighten. Leathern swings sprouted from its back, and its claws were long and thin. As it stared at her, its lips pulled back to reveal fangs like daggers. When its tongue lolled, drool dripped and sizzled against the floor.

"Stand back!" Treale warned and raised her club. Her knees shook, but she snarled and stayed standing. "You will not enter this place."

Its tongue licked its chops, long and wet like a sea serpent. Its white eye spun madly, the size of a melon, oozing pus.

"Fleshhhh," it hissed, eyes blazing. "We must eat, yes, we must lick blood, we must suck marrow. Fleshhh."

Quick as a spider, it scuttled on hands and knees into the chamber.

Treale yelped and leaped back. She swung her club, and it clanged against the demon's shoulder. The beast barely seemed to notice. Its head whipped from side to side, taking in the cell, like a starving man stumbling upon a feast and for a moment overcome, not sure which dish to devour first. Mori crawled into the corner, face pale, and Treale stood over her, club trembling in her hands. The beast gave them a stare, then looked back at the prisoners who mewled upon the floor. It finally seemed to make up its mind.

It pounced onto one prisoner, a man with dislocated arms and severed fingers, and began to feast.

Treale winced and Mori yelped. Blood and entrails splattered. The prisoner gave a last scream, then died as the beast fed. It ate greedily, claws lashing and teeth ripping flesh, then turned and pounced upon a second prisoner. The man screamed as the creature sucked up his entrails. The third prisoner, back lashed and legs broken, whimpered and began crawling away, but the demon leaped upon him too, and more blood splashed.

"Come on, Mori!" Treale cried. She grabbed the princess and pulled her up. "Run, Mori!"

As the demon feasted upon the third prisoner, crunching bones and sucking organs, the two young women stumbled out into the hall.

A second shriek, coming from ahead, tore through the dungeon. Walls cracked and dust rained. Treale screamed and Mori whimpered. More shadows stirred, and a second beast scuttled into the dungeon, licking its chops. This one's flesh was so rotten, it hung in tatters, revealing white bones. It crawled forward, long and rail thin. Its nostrils flared, and with a howl, it burst into a cell where children hung from a wall. The beast began to feast, splattering blood. The children screamed and died between its teeth.

"Nephilim," Mori whispered, her arms around Treale's shoulders. Her voice was weak, and her arms shook.

"Demons?" Treale whispered.

"Half demons. I read about them in my books. Their fathers were demons from the Abyss who took human brides; these are their spawn." She began to limp forward again. "Hurry, Treale!"

They rushed down the corridor as the nephilim screeched and slurped and feasted behind them. As they passed by cells, they saw that the prisoners had already been devoured. The doors lay shattered, and only bits of hair and bloodied chains remained beyond them. More screeches rose above; the dungeons were swarming with these creatures.

"More flesh!" rose cries behind them. "We must drink more blood! We crave more bones, comrades, and marrow to suck."

Treale's feet slogged through blood. The nephilim screeched behind her. Every step seemed a mile long.