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6) For Whom the Bell Tolls

“3”

It seemed now that the stalkers had picked up our scent. They were straining at their chains, making the blade minions they were attached to nearly stumble. The minions cursed in their vile tongue and yanked on the long chain leashes, eliciting a yelp from their pets.
Some of the blade minions were missing one of their hands in place of a large metallic claw grafted directly to the bone. The other hand was accompanied by a wrist gauntlet with a fixed jagged sword blade protruding from it. There were even those that had pincers for both hands. These were more savage, their lust for carnage insatiable to the point of mutilating themselves beyond any semblance of reason. More dangerous again were the minions equipped for long range. While some still possess the metal claws, each has any sort of energy cannon grafted directly to the bones in its forearm. They would oft have one free hand to wield any sort of demonic or human weapon to suit their needs. Or, empty-handed, they would simply grab a man by his throat and take a good size chunk out of his head with their massive jaws. A sight witnessed by few surviving humans.

“2”

As they move slowly into range, we take aim to cause the most destruction. My fire shield spell will take effect at the first damage I receive, while Dahvid’s mantra begins at his first shot. While it is unlikely that we will survive, we have a very good chance of crippling their operation in this sector for some time. Maybe they’ll have operable suits ready by the time there is a problem again.
We both breath calmly- knowing any vibration, from sound or movement, could quickly alert the minions to our exact location. Having count-downs like this were a common occurance, so we both know to go after one and not on it… to go on zero.

“1”

As we both line up our final sights, our Geiger meters begin screaming in our helmets. The noise is so sudden, and so sharp, we both recoil in pain stifling a yell. The noise is like that of an antique “television set” from the turn of the century losing any signal at full volume. I can only imagine a nuclear weapon having gone off in our very close proximity to cause that kind of feedback spike.

Needless to say, we didn’t fire. As I shut down the Geiger and reclaim my bearings, I expect the demons to be on top of us… if we aren’t all about to be engulfed in nuclear flame. Yet what I see is beyond understanding.

The demons are attacking what appears to be each other. Firing chaotically into the center of their group or swinging at thin air as they each are constantly taking damage. The sound of automatic gunfire is easily distinguished amongst the sounds. I stare dumbfounded with no comprehension of what is happening.

“C’mon man! Let’s get out of here!” Dahvid says eagerly.

I hear him speaking without listening, noticing something wrong about the pandemonium I observe. The demons are not, in fact, attacking each other. They are attacking around each other, as if the very air were menacing them.

“We can take them. Let’s go,” Without waiting for his response, I draw my sword, prime my thrusters, and leap toward the combat, no more than twenty feet away. I bring my blade down to lop off a minion’s arm as I land. I notice each monster riddled with bullet wounds and long gashes across every part of their body. I notice the blade minion I am fighting is encumbered by the corpse of the stalker it was “walking.” It looks as if the beast’s skull has been pierced through with an invisible skewer. This extra weight provides me the handicap I need to quickly sidestep the minion’s thrust and remove its other arm with an upward swipe. Following through with that momentum, I spin around in a 360 and cut the thing in half at the waist. As I realign myself, I notice Dahvid’s rockets hailing down around the area, splashing the demons with explosive shrapnel.
More importantly, I notice a disembodied blade flickering in and out of existence around the surviving minions and stalkers. Likewise, the muzzle flash like that of a submachine-gun erupts from thin air around the vicinity.

The weapons seem to appear and disappear in the blink of an eye, from all around the area. They are never from the same place long and are always opposite the explosions. The blade slashes wildly at a minion’s torso while the gunfire tears apart a stalkers hide. I wade into the fray and begin to quickly dispatch the severely wounded enemies. I remove a head here and a leg there, my prey far too bewildered to put up any legitimate defense.

I quickly realize that they are all dead or dying on the ground around me. I also realize I didn’t kill them all.

I hear a clink and feel a sudden pressure against my chest plates. What appears to be a dueling pistol with several barrels materializes from front to back out of the air. An arm follows quickly behind, which is in turn followed by a body and head. The other hand holds a rapier in a non-threatening manner. In front of me stands a “clone” of my suit, with several distinct differences.

The helmet design is dark purple, as that of a black light, in the shape of what can only be explained as two sevens facing each other. A triangle pointing down with curved sides, split in half. Instead of titanium alloy, the suit is comprised of a crystalline structure. I know for a fact that it is a form of carbon- diamond. The diamond was specially treated to soften it for bending, then made into strands to weave the suit’s underlay. It was then made into plating for the suits fortification.

The suit is not nearly as durable as the one I wear. However, it allows much more freedom and flexibility due to its special treating. Also, the underlay is woven and the plates are bent in such a way that it is in effect a fiber optic shell. It can absorb light at the will of the wearer and effectively forms a “cloak” around the wearer. It renders them invisible. It can translate light into other wavelengths of energy i.e. infrared, x-rays. Beta-particle radiation.

I know all this because I helped design and build the suit.

“I told you I could pilot it the best,” an expectedly cocky remark from the man in front of me. He seems indifferent to the fact that Dahvid has his spark rifle almost pressed against the back of his skull.

“Hello Somsien.”