Lenk, she thought, craning her neck to survey his hole, I’m—
Her gaze lingered upon the empty grave for a moment before a new thought struck her.
Where?
The question was answered in an instant as he came, silent as a shadow, silver as the sword he held high, cutting through the smoke. Fast, far too fast for the demon to notice, far too fast for her to flinch, the blade came down in a rainbow of steel.
She felt herself falling, felt fingers loosening around her throat, felt herself collapsed to the ground. She blinked, heedless of the ooze crawling into her eyes, and surveyed the black limb lying limp on the ground beside her, severed neatly at its thin biceps.
If the demon were capable of blinking, it would have, too, as it glanced down at the stump of its arm. It wiggled the remains of the appendage momentarily, shifted its vacant stare about: first to its arm upon the ground, then to the man standing before him, blade bloodless. It tilted its head to the side.
Then, the demon screamed.
The wail was so violent as to pierce even the wall of slime filling her ears, so terrifying as to make her forget the rest of the sludge as she strained to cover her ears. She had heard it laugh, pray, preach and chuckle before. She had heard such things and remained silent.
Only now, when she heard it in pain, did she feel the need to scream.
Lenk, however, was unmoved. His sword lashed out immediately, carving a deep gouge in the creature’s wispy torso. Black skin was rent like paper, globs of thick ebon spilling from the wound to plop in quivering jellies upon the earth. The creature shrieked at the wound again, its voice arcing into a high-pitched wail as it grabbed at the cut, straining to keep further parts of itself from slipping out.
‘Stop!’ it wailed. ‘Stop! Stop! You’re not supposed to do that!’
Lenk did not stop.
He lunged at the creature as it retreated backwards, thrusting his weapon into its leg so that the tip burst out of the other side in a fan of black. The creature collapsed to its knees and its shriek terrified the gloom, chasing the smoke further from the beach. Its hand quivered, darting between wounds, seeking to contain the thick liquids pouring from it at an alarming rate.
‘Not fair!’ it screamed. ‘Not fair! Get away from me! GO AWAY!’
Lenk did not go away.
His stride was soundless, his blade held loosely at his side as he advanced casually upon the creature. The victory was already decided, but rather than end it quickly, Lenk chose to take his time, walking so slowly as to suggest he wasn’t even aware that Kataria was nearby, covered with slime, still and breathless upon the ground.
‘Mother!’ the Abysmyth howled. ‘Mother! Help me! HELP ME!’
Lenk did not hear.
The demon made a lunge at him, feeble and sloppy, hurling its arm out to claw empty air as he stepped backwards. When the thing landed hard on its hand, he was quick to act, sidewinding about it like a serpent. His boots scraped against leathery flesh as he leapt and raced up the creature’s back, seizing it by its great black crest. His sword flashed, a steel fang sinking into the creature’s collarbone.
It was in that moment that Kataria realised the Abysmyth was making a sound she had never heard it make, never even thought it was capable of making before that moment: the demon was sobbing.
‘It hurts! It hurts!’ the thing cried out as Lenk wrenched the blade deeper, its mouth gaping wide. ‘MOMMY! MOMMY! IT HURTS! MAKE IT STOP!’ It batted at the weapon, digits suddenly becoming pudgy and helpless. ‘MOMMY, I DON’T LIKE IT! MAKE IT STOP!’
Lenk listened.
His foot came up and came down in one quick movement, heel upon the sword’s crossguard and burying it to the hilt. The silver blade burst out through the creature’s ribcage, sunlight through stormclouds, and shone defiantly.
The demon stopped its wailing. Lenk sprang off its back.
Its breathing was heavy now, laboured and ragged, shining rivers pouring out of it with every gasp. Even as it swayed upon its knees, its eyes could not express the despair it clearly felt as it stared blankly at the weapon. The sword looked back up at it through metal eyes, cruel and remorseless, denying the pity the Abysmyth so desperately wanted.
The wind moaned in the distance. Smoke parted above. A beam of light descended warily to