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[3]-Baptism by blood


The quiet night in the countryside was illuminated by a large fire. Deep within the forest stood a large mansion. The gardens and maze in the front were destroyed. Sounds of rumbling and ringing steel could be heard inside the main mansion as huge stones crumbled and fell. The inside of the mansion was much bigger and spacious than it appeared on the outside. Within the center was a huge atrium several stories tall with multiple statues of Greek gods and gargoyles perched on its ledges.

A dirt road marked by endless tire tracks and surrounded by trees connected the mansion to a small village resting beneath. Night turned to day as an illumination round shot into the sky like a second sun. Taking shelter in the blazing village was a small French girl, with chestnut eyes and pigtails. She cowered behind the door frame of her home as her parents and fellow villagers were killed. Huge, wolf-like beasts that walked like men dripped blood from their foaming mouths as they ravaged the village.

They scaled and hopped along the roofs of various buildings, crashing through windows, slaughtering animals still in their barns. Uniformed soldiers with assault rifles and machine guns intervened to preserve any life they could. The girl looked onward as the soldiers themselves were killed by the wolves that ripped and shredded their flesh. Tonight, she would forever be baptized by fire and blood.

She turned to see Drake bellowing through the village in a blood drunken state, slaughtering everything in his path with a scythe borrowed from death himself. Blood sprayed his black and white suit as he cleaved a wolf in half. His crimson eyes glared in the night, complementing the blood on his body. One werewolf, much more influential than the others charged him as he opened his massive jaw to devour Drake whole. Drake swung his scythe overhead, with a savage swing he gutted the wolf as it leaped past him.

He turned his attention to the fleeing couple running past him before impaling them both in one stroke. Drake released a roar, a monstrosity in human form. He butchered another group of villagers fleeing for their lives, hacking a helpless farmer into pieces. Bullets collided into his body as more soldiers appeared. Drake ignored the hail of bullets, sprinting towards them to unleash his fury. A lone photographer, hiding in the grass could only observe as his comrades were carved to pieces.

Tall blades of grass waved back and forth with the wind as Drake rushed past the bloodied soil and corpses. The small girl from before left the safety of her home as she ran through the fields. Sensing her fear and despair, Drake set his sights on her, catching up to her in mere seconds. She wailed as she looked back, only to see her face mirroring on Drake’s steel. He waved his scythe down only to be deflected by Lyn as she shielded the girl from his wrath.

“Run!” Lyn told her, using her bow to block the scythe. “Drake! What’s wrong with you! It’s me, Lyn!” she cried.

Drake growled as he pushed her back several feet. Lyn bounded back as he decapitated the grass and wheat between them. He continued his assault, hitting only air. Lyn kept his attention, allowing the surviving villagers and soldiers to flee.

She spotted an opportunity to parry the scythe away and grab his wrists. Her emerald eyes were red with tears. “Drake stop! Don’t you recognize me!”

He snarled and snapped at her like a rabid dog, immune to her pleas.

“Wow, the Warden wasn’t kidding when she said this stuff would drive Drake mad...” a cheery voice said.

Lyn spotted a woman leaning against a destroyed house. She wore a black catsuit that showcased her athletic body. Her long, red cherry hair was wound in a large bun that left several strands hanging out with honey-colored eyes. She was strikingly beautiful in every aspect. Within her palm, she juggled a small bottle filled with a strange liquid that looked like gold.


“After all, you can’t spell slaughter without laughter!” Anna guffawed.

Drake’s strength would soon overpower her, Lyn had to act fast. She thought of a wrestling move he had shown her. Lyn gave in, throwing her body into him while grappling an arm and a wrist. She planted her feet and shifted her weight back, throwing Drake over her via a lateral drop. She pinned him to the ground and injected a sedative into his neck. He thrashed and fought against her and his face relaxed as the narcotic kicked in.

Lyn shot Anna a hateful glare. She readied her bow. “What did you do to him?”

They circled each other like two wolves. “Fascinating what a little Ambrosia mixed with Wisteria will do. Even to one as powerful as Drake. Just one drop in his tea,” she teased.

“So you’re responsible for this. You lead them here,” Lyn accused.

Anna unsheathed the broadswords resting on her back, she held them as if they were weightless. “No,” her voice was serene, “Prometheus planned the party, I only brought the guests.”

“It’ll be your last party...” Lyn gritted.

“Lyn...” Drake groaned.

She sped to his side as Drake sat from the ground rubbing his head. His eyes were a cool, crystal blue now. The scythe had returned to its original form, the golden scarab. He patted the soft soil until he felt the scarab’s smooth alloy in his grasp.

“It’s okay I’m here,” Lyn consoled.

“What happened?”

Lyn shook her head. Tears of joy fell from her face. “You lost yourself for a moment, but you’ve come back to me now.” She held him tightly. “I love you,” she murmured.

Anna had a scowl. “I remember he used to look at me like that. But sooner or later, he’ll just throw you away. Like a piece of trash-”

“Enough!” Drake intervened. “Anna, haven’t you forgotten,” his voice was tense. “You were the one that chose to leave after all...”

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