Icarus Page 13

  “Fuck!” he yelled as he hit the ground, then sat up and shook his cuffed wrists at the door. “Just open up so I can get out of here!”

  A voice emanated from behind the black door. “I can’t do that sir!” That pissed Dante off even more, the guy was fucked either way – why make things more difficult for him? He stood up and kicked at the steel-plated door, but it didn’t budge at all.

  “That won’t do you any good, you might as well surrender,” the voice said, and Dante tried his next strategy of glaring a hole through it. He scoffed and kicked at the ground, muttering to himself until his eyes locked on one of the prone guards, and more specifically the key ring hanging off his belt.

  “When I get in there, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

  “I’d like to see that, but I guess we’ll never know since you won’t get in.”

  Dante smirked, and enjoyed the guy’s little commentary now, knowing that it would be his last. He made slow strides toward his unconscious comrade saying, “Yeah, you’re a real tough guy when you’re safe behind that door, bet you wouldn’t be if I removed it.”

  “I’m tough with or without the door. Why, I’ll—” His voice stopped abruptly when Dante removed the keys from the unconscious guard’s belt, the jingle echoing through around hallway. The light of the torches reflected off them, causing it to give off a sharp yellow tinge, and Dante smirked as he pinched it between two fingers.

  “What was that?” the voice behind the door said, frantic now.

  “I’m gonna come in there and kick your ass.”

  “N-no you’re not.”

  “Ooooooh yeah I am. I’m gonna shove your head right up your ass,” Dante said as he placed the key in the lock. This one didn’t fit, but there were two more to try.

  “You won’t be able to do that, the other guards don’t have the key to this door, so don’t even try.”

  “Well, there’s no harm in tryin’ though,” Dante said, placing the second key inside. No luck.

  “Y-you’re not really gonna shove my head up my ass, right?”

  “No…” Dante said, trailing off as he placed the third and final key into the opening. He gave a demonic smile, his eyes shining.

  “I’M GONNA SHOVE YOUR ASS UP YOUR ASS!”

  “That isn’t even possible!” the guard shouted in retort as the door flung upon and Dane leapt in, grasping the guard’s butt and trying to shove the man’s entire body, including his ass, up his ass. Dante shouted and pulled as the man screeched his protest. As Dante struggled to forcibly remove another man’s pants, something dawned on him. This image… if taken out of context… may be interrupted wrong. He stopped mid-pull, the guard stopping his screeching and panting, awaiting his fate.

  No, Dante did not like this at all.

  He stood up, his face pale and devoid of expression, then looked down at the guy, who was pressed onto his stomach, his knees upturned and swaying. It reminded Dante of an image from a magazine he kept under his mattress, only featuring this guy instead of the hot chick.

  “Argh!”

  He yelled in anger and clawed at his eyes as the image attempted to burn itself into his brain, and he stomped on the man’s body until he was sure that he was unconscious.

  Dante underestimated that guard’s power.

  His eyes shut painfully tight for fear of the terrifying image coming back to life, Dante felt his way along the wall. He walked like that for a few minutes, until the image drifted away into his subconscious, suppressed and never to return. He shook his head, and took solid steps down the corridor, torches blazing at each side. He’d done this walk half a dozen times in the past two days, so he already knew the layout pretty well and what awaited him.

  The last couple of times, guards jumped out of the woodwork to try to attack him on his way to the large arena-like room. Not this time, as Dante was pretty sure he had taken out the entire staff, except for maybe a receptionist, who couldn’t be all that tough or else he wouldn’t be a receptionist. Now all he had to worry about was that fucking warden, but the warden was the problem.

  All the others guys were nothing, so it wasn’t much of a problem for Dante to take them out, but the warden on the other hand was tough. Dante had gotten a few good shots in, sure, but the warden wasn’t the type of person he wanted to fight in his current condition. If it was just his Sol, he was sure he’d be out by now, but he was also handcuffed. He wanted to grab the guy, clinch up, and blast him with knees like he did that one chick, but he just wasn’t letting it happen. So far, he was lucky to even get a solid kick in.

  All of this went through Dante’s head as he reached the door at the end of the long hallway. He gripped its handle and took a sharp intake of breath, aware that it would be unlocked by now. He tore it open and walked confidently in, where the warden awaited him.

  “You ain’t gonna just let me through, eh?”

  “Hardly. I enjoy this far too much to allow my most entertaining prisoner to escape. Do you understand how little work I get to do around here?”

  “Stop creating hippies and maybe they’ll do some shit to keep you busy.”

  He threw his head back and cackled. “Hippies? Ah, I see. So you’ve come to learn the truth of the nuef, have you? You’re far more entertaining than I could have imagined,” he said, but his face hardened, and the usual playfulness that Dante saw when they fought leached out of him. “Although you shouldn’t have told me that really. Keeping the population docile leaves them easy to control. They don’t commit crimes, which makes my job nice and cushy, and they work without a single complaint. And Her Will, they won’t so much as think of destroying it. But if you go blabbing to those troublesome comrades of yours? Who knows what will happen.” He stepped into the center of the fighting stage, extending his hand. Energy gathered there that sent his robe and hair flapping. “This will be our final battle.”

  Dante clenched his teeth so hard that they clicked and he bent his knees, ready to spring as soon as the massive attack was unleashed. The warden swung his hand forward in a showy display and a rush of air tore through the arena, seeming to distort even the image in front of him. Dante leapt as hard as he could to his side, still feeling the violent gust tug at his clothes. He hit the ground, rolled, and darted forward, where the warden threw out several bursts of energy as fast as he could. Dante kept pressing on – these were nothing compared to giant fucking spears.

  This guy was dead set on taking Dante out now, so he didn’t want to take any chances. Dante was sure to conceal that his final trump card was a clinch until now: he always went for an attack first, so he had no doubt that the warden assumed Dante was just trying to kick him in the head and knock him out in a full-on frontal assault. With this in mind, Dante wanted to act like that was indeed his game plan. He charged forward, taking special note that the attacks had stopped. The warden was standing directly across from him, his arms folded in an ‘X’ across his chest. His clothing whipped around violently and it was evident that he was gathering a huge amount of energy. Dante knew it was in preparation to counter his charge, but he had to play along.

  “Fuck you!” he shouted and rushed onward. He spotted a slight smirk on the warden’s lips and he took that as his sign to get the fuck out of there. He abruptly bolted off at a right angle, leaving a very confused warden frowning at him. Still, it was too late for the guy to stop his attack and violent turbulence lashed out all around him.

  Despite the fact that Dante had predicted this, he wasn’t able to avoid it. It was an omnidirectional attack, and as Dante rushed forward it caught up and plowed into his back. It didn’t hurt, but it pushed hard, and his eyes widened as he realized he was heading straight for a wall.

  Not one to give up, Dante placed his feet outward with his knees bent. Just before he hit the wall, he kicked out. He was pressed between this air wall and the physical wall for a moment, but then broke through and came tumbling out of the other side of the thick wind, landed on his backside, then tried to prop
himself up, but found it difficult with the handcuffs. He had to use just his lower body, which sucked, and firmly planted one foot, before following with the other. He almost fell flat on his ass when he got to a stand, and for some reason the warden hadn’t taken the opportunity to attack him again. Dante wondered why this was, and quickly turned to face him.

  He was panting. It looked like somebody had put all their eggs in one basket.

  Dante ran forward, and although the warden tried to keep his cool, he could see a twinge of nervous sweat running down the left side of his face. Dante smirked and doubled his speed, racing toward the man as fast as he could. He recalled all of the asshole’s smirks, the cheap shots, all the times he looked so cocky even though they both knew he wasn’t playing anywhere close to fair.

  Dante shouted and avoided the desperate attacks his opponent launched at him. As he came in he tried to punch him on instinct, but he couldn’t with his hands bound. During that hesitation a blow hit him dead in the shoulder, but he didn’t care. It didn’t even hurt, the worst it did was offset Dante’s momentum by knocking his shoulder out, but he could use that to his advantage. He turned all the way with it and spun around while launching his leg outward. His heel connected with something solid, and Dante smiled. When he came full circle, the warden was stumbling backward, clutching his temple. Dante wasn’t going to let him off that easy, and he lunged for him.

  As he looped his arms around the back of his opponent’s neck time seemed to stop. In that moment he stared into the eyes of a man who didn’t seem to really know where he was, or who he had pissed off. Dante almost pitied him, but then his pupils expanded with a trace of recognition, and that was all Dante needed to get going. He pulled down on the man’s head as hard as he could, bringing the guy’s face into his knee. He heard something crack as it made solid contact, and the warden’s head jerked up, forcing him to a standing position. But Dante wasn’t finished. He pulled his head in again and gave him a powerful wallop. The image of the warden smirking as Dante lay banged up on the floor flashed through his mind, and he let another knee fly upward.

  Blood sprayed everywhere as the man’s nose exploded. Dante had probably broken it in two places, if such a thing was even possible. The knee of his jeans were damp with blood, and the floor was becoming slippery to stand on. Dante bent over and pulled the guy out of the pool of his own gore, then slammed his knee into his stomach. With each hit Dante heard a loud thump, like he was hitting a damp mattress with a bat, and the guy wheezed out a cry he could no longer manage due to the intense pain in his belly.

  Dante continued tearing into the man as he sank lower with each blow. He was coughing up blood and muttering silent words that had to be pleas for the beating to stop. As he lay on the ground, blood pouring out of his ruined nose, Dante felt a twinge of empathy for him. Then he scoffed at his own weakness and patted at the man’s robe until he felt a small metal key. He grasped it, then delivered one last knee into the man’s midsection. He stood up, taking the key and unlocking his handcuffs. They snapped open, and Dante realized how much he missed the feeling of fresh air coming into contact with his skin. He smiled, then tossed the cuffs and the key over his shoulder as he walked away.

  When he reached the steel gate Dante inspected it closely, looking for a way to raise it, before he stopped abruptly. He just had a devilish idea. Smirking, he held his palms against the gate, then blasted his energy out, leaving nothing but twisted metal and screws. Fuck me I’ve missed blowing shit up, he thought.

  His next obstacle was a long staircase poorly lit by torches. The steps creaked and protested under Dante’s weight, and he came to realize that the oldest part of the building had to be the entrance. They must have kept digging deeper and deeper over time, so the place they locked him up in was kind of like a fresh new suit or something. He could see the ceiling coming into view, and flickering within the light cast by the flames was a small square etched into it. It looked like the entryway to his attic, and had to be his way out. When he was underneath it, he lifted his palm up, then shot out his energy, sending the square hatch flying into the air. He heard it smack into the ceiling then hit the floor, and Dante leapt out of the hole, his hands before his face like claws.

  “I’ve got you now fucker…” he trailed off as his eyes bulged and took in the figure before him. He was expecting some generic weak-ass guard, probably the weakest of them all since he was the receptionist. Instead, his eyes were faced with the worst opponent he could imagine: Lennon.

  “Fuck,” Dante mumbled.

  Chapter 10

  Jake waited with Sara and Elizabeth in the plaza where the festival was held just a few days earlier. It was midday, so he expected the place to be bustling with people, but it was the exact opposite. The whole place was silent, the only sound being the howling wind. His eyes shifted from one abandoned building to another, expecting to see a black creature emerge. That was ridiculous, of course – their opponent would be coming from the sky, but all that time killing Malice that plagued villages taught Jake to be very wary of deserted silent spaces.

  There was some kind of flapping noise, and Jake turned his head quickly, grasping his sword, only to be disappointed when he saw it was just a flag fluttering in the wind. He looked around frantically, noting that his comrades were doing the same. They’d been waiting for several hours, their calm outward demeanor the same as always, but there was some sort of thick tension steaming up from the very ground that told him some deadly confrontation was imminent.

  Then a roar bellowed out, seeming to come from every direction at once. Jake turned his head to the sky and spun around, trying to pinpoint its location, but it was impossible. Then there was a dreadful screech of wind – the sound the creature made when it powered its wings up and down. It was near, no doubt toward the edge of the island, and he could tell by the shifting sound that it was circling the entire landmass. It would come up and unleash its attack soon. Jake locked eyes with Sara and nodded. She was the only one with ranged attacks to take that thing down, unless Jake decided to test out his Sol rifle, but he was told to only use it in a serious pinch when a large amount of Sol was being emitted.

  The roar resounded again, and the screeching wind blew stronger. The dark figure on the horizon drew closer, soaring through the sky with its wings outstretched. It pulled its neck back just before it got over the plaza, and Jake knew this would be it.

  Just before it unleashed its deadly disease, a flurry of sharp icicles slashed into the creature’s snout and mouth, piercing it and causing it to roar with pain. The mass of liquid it had gathered spread out and fell, and Jake and company had to run to avoid being sprayed. It seeped into the ground like some kind of acid, but Jake was surprised to find that no Malice emerged from the black liquid as he expected. Perhaps interrupting it mid-attack had stopped their spread.

  Before Jake could think any further, a momentous torrent of wind bore down on him from above and forced his head into his chest. He pushed against it, and shielded his eyes with his forearm. The creature was beating its wings in the air, creating pressure that restricted Jake’s movements. It pulled its neck back once again, then launched it forward, a steady stream of black liquid pouring forth.

  “Take cover!” Jake shouted, then ran into a nearby building. There was a solid splat, followed by some runoff, then a disgusting sliding and popping noise – the sound of the Malice being birthed from the strange liquid. Jake flung the door open, gritting his teeth. Rising out of the ground all along the street were Malice. Jake drew his blade, then charged at them.

  Was that gust of wind meant to keep Sara’s icicles away? Jake thought as his eyes focused on the large dragon Malice, steadily beating its wings so that it remained hovering in the air, as if monitoring their battle.

  “I’ll focus on the large ones!” he yelled, as he took off the arm of a brute. He glanced at Sara and Elizabeth to see if it registered, and they both nodded, although Elizabeth seemed to have some apprehensio
n at the idea. He directed his attention back to the large Malice he was fighting and jammed his sword into its belly, and it screeched in agony. “I’m more used to fighting them,” he called over his shoulder, then ripped his sword out of the creature. He held it at his side, and turned fully to Elizabeth. “Got it?” he said.

  Her eyes were wide, and she seemed in awe of Jake for some reason. It was as if time was frozen for the two of them, if only for a few seconds, before Sara, still fighting at Elizabeth’s side, broke the strange trance.

  “A little help over here!” she yelled, her arms outstretched and sending a rapid-fire storm of ice barreling into several Malice in front of her. They continued walking toward her, despite the onslaught, only stumbling a little bit on the way. Elizabeth turned away from Jake, giving one last glance over her shoulder before slicing into the creatures.

  Jake felt tingling along his back, and took that as a sign that he should take some kind of evasive maneuver quick. He tucked and rolled forward, hearing a large crash from behind, and as he did a few chunks of dirt sprayed over his back. As he rose he turned around to see another large Malice ripping its arm out of the ground. Jake yelled and stabbed into it.

  The rest of the battle had Jake swinging his sword wildly from one foul creature to another. He’d stab into one, then have to pull back quickly as another tried to smash into him from behind. Sometimes Sara or Elizabeth would call for his assistance, and he’d rush to them and cut another down. By the time the last one was felled, his blade was dripping with blackness, and he could feel a little bit of it running down his cheek as he panted. He looked up at the large dragon that still hovered over him, like some kind of monstrous referee. It beat its wings quickly once again, sending that same torrent of air bearing down on them. Jake turned to Sara and Elizabeth, who looked at him anxiously. Once again the three of them ran for cover, and once again that steady stream of liquid stained the ground. The monsters rose from it, and once again Jake exited the house, slashing and stabbing his way through the horde.