Page 79 of Grave Mistakes
Jerif bellows again, and the need to get to him grips me, body and soul. I can’t let fear stop me, so even though I want to run away and hide, I surge forward, trying to get to him. I scythe demons left and right, clearing a path in the direction of where it sounds like Jerif’s screams are coming from.
I have no idea where the other guys are, and I’m shaky with fear and adrenaline, but I don’t think anyone is coming for us, so it’s up to me. My weapon is the only thing that keeps me from being overwhelmed by Outer Ringers who keep trying to snatch me. I wonder if anyone is trying to take the guys too or if their agenda is to end them instead. My jaw sets with determination. I’ll just have to take out as many as I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.
After ashing dozens more of them, I continue to push my way through the overwhelming crowd, and the horde surrounding me begins to hesitate. It seems they’ve smartened up, and they’re second guessing about how wise it is to keep rushing at me.
I’m panting, covered in ash, blood, and sweat. I blow the hair out of my face and turn in a circle, gripping my scythe. “If you hurt my demons, I will fucking kill you all,” I promise through haggard breaths.
I feel murderous. Violent. Black ink bleeds into my vision as I’m filled with all-encompassing rage, and I don’t care how outnumbered or inexperienced I am, I will dust all these fuckers if Jerif and the others are dead.
I push through, swinging the scythe and feeling buoyant with satisfaction when they back away with growls and squeals, but another group of demons shoves ahead in challenge. “Get her!”
Poof. I swing the scythe like a bat, smacking right into the demon who issued the order.
Three more go down right after him, and that seems to scare some, because a good number of them suddenly launch into the air and take off.
With the pathway somewhat clear, I can just make out a circle of demons surrounding the lava asshole that I just swore I’d protect at all costs. I’m so relieved to see that Jerif’s still standing, albeit shakily, that I rush forward, ashing four more Outer Ringers who close in on me and try to keep me from seeing what’s going on.
Through a gray cloud, I watch as several demons in the circle around Jerif go up in flames. But just as he’s burning some of his attackers, others swoop in and slash at him. The blades they’re using are as long as my arm. They’re black and shiny, like they’re made out of jewels instead of metal.
Jerif is stabbed again when a demon lands on his back, and another pain-filled cry pours out of his mouth as he goes down on one knee. He’s already bloody, exhausted, and wounded in multiple places. Even his flames are starting to sputter, as he only tosses out small spheres of fire that don’t even come close to landing on any of his assailants.
As soon as Jerif manages to throw off the demon on his back, another one is there, taking its place, stabbing straight into his side. This time, Jerif doesn’t manage to get back to his feet. Another one tackles him from the other side too, sending him crashing to the ground, barely stopping the demon from slitting his throat.
Tears fill my eyes, and rage fills my heart.
They’re killing him.
He’s going to be murdered right before my eyes, and the horror of that realization makes the black edges of my fury intensify.
Outraged by what I’m seeing, I start slashing my way to him. I take out dozens, but there’s dozens more ready to flood in to take their place. It takes me too long to move mere feet closer, because the horde is closing in, and that’s when I see the net.
They’re going to trap me like I’m a fucking animal and haul me away.
I scream, impotent fury bouncing off the walls and echoing back to remind me just how helpless I really am.
I ash everything around me, tears streaming from my eyes as I try to get to Jerif. He must hear me coming, because he turns to me from where he’s lying on the ground, bleeding, fighting off more of the attacking demons who brave the dimming fire surrounding him.
His firelit eyes meet mine, but instead of seeing hope in them, because he knows help is coming, I see stony resignation. “Run,” he mouths to me, his voice lost to the cacophony of snarls and hisses around us.
It takes me a beat to comprehend what he’s saying. I shake my head no. I won’t just leave him here. I can’t.
He sees the defiance on my face. “Run, Delta! Now!” he yells at me, and I watch as he taps into the last of his reserves and shoves painfully to his feet.
They slash at him as he burns them, and I renew my efforts to get to him. He can shove his order right up his tight ass. I release a savage bellow and curse every being between me and him, but he’s still too far away. The net is getting closer, and for every demon I kill, three more take its place.
I fight with everything I have, but it’s not enough.I’mnot enough.
We’re being pressed further down the passageway as we fight, and the crowd around us grows even more oppressive and overwhelming. Iceman, Crux, and Echo are nowhere in sight, and I refuse to think about what that means. All I can focus on is trying to get to Jerif. There’s a wall of demons between us and the Duo portal, but a gap opens up in front of me, and I’m surprised to see that the way is clear.
The mass is coming from behind us, and a plan surges through me. If I’m an Unus, maybe I can take Jerif with me through the portal? I’m not sure if that’ll actually work, but what do we have to lose? If neither of us can get through the portal to the First Ring of Hell, then we’re dead. Duo is already blocked, so fuck it, what alternative do we have?
My arms are leaden from slashing and slicing everything around me, but I scream at myself that I can do it. I can get to Jerif. I can save us. I have to.
Ash and flames dance all around me as I renew my efforts and move closer to him like I’m some Hell-blessed battering ram. I make progress, but I shove that excitement away because I’m still not near enough or able to protect him from the onslaught still raining down on his body. The demons are attacking him to kill, which answers my question about whether I’m the only one they seem interested in taking.
My body is exhausted, my arms shaking every time I swing the scythe, but I keep pushing, keep moving, even as the injuries in my limbs scream at me with every step. I keep going.
Closer.
