Seeker: Demon Killers [Fantasy/Action | Complete]

Chapter 39: Time is Fleeting

From the comfort of the fog and unconsciousness, Damien clawed upwards. He didn't dare look down. The malevolent stares of his parents and the villagers burned into the back of his head. They wanted him dead. They'd always wanted him dead. Devil's spawn, monster, demon...

If they only knew what real demons were like.

The unease dug into him. It wasn't because of the flashbacks. Something horrible happened, and it was going to get worse. He couldn't move his limbs, though. It was like someone had bound him or paralysed him, and he was helpless, only able to watch.

Voices came from nearby. They were no mere conversation. They spoke each word with delicate precision, every syllable dripping with threat. He squinted. He could barely see through the darkness. Flickers of candlelight showed him the fallen pillars and rubble. Had an explosion gone off?

The dialogue cleared the more he gripped onto reality. The deep timbre of one was familiar. Markl. The other spoke with a higher pitch, in an accent he'd never heard before. It stirred anxiety in him. That voice meant bad news.

He spread his mind around. Ross was somewhere not too far away, still knocked out. Her mind was still stuck in her flashbacks. At the far corner, he got some kind of response.

Carlos?

Oh Jesus hell, my head...

Car, you there?

Ugh... yeah. Yeah.

Damien could feel Carlos scrabbling for the nearest post to hoist himself up.

Don't try to move. Play dead.

Why? Ugh, my head. What the hell happened, man? I wanna go back to bed...

I think... I think the demons knocked us out, but didn't kill us.

Right. I'm going back to bed.

I'm serious! Demons, Braverley train station, remember? Those shadow demons?

Carlos's mind woke up at the words.

Aw crud. Now would be a good time to get our butts out of here.

Damien squinted. He made out two shapes about ten metres away. The closer one was human-shaped, broad-shouldered, and crouched. That must be Markl. The other one was further away and lean, with a long, thin tail. A demon.

"Tick, tock," said Markl. He didn't sound at all worried about the situation, even though all his teammates were defeated.

"You think too highly of yourself."

Damien recognised that voice. It was the demon from the shopping centre, the one who seemed to be targeting Tora. The Shifter.

Um, why's Markl butt naked?

That should be the least of our worries, thought Damien to himself. He lifted his head. The air chilled him to the bone. The shadow creatures must still be around. There was no way to make them out in the dim light.

A third presence alerted him. He turned his head. There was a bundle in front of the crouching Markl. The mind was confused, disorientated, but it was a powerful one nonetheless. Damien imagined facing the third being head-on might be the very last thing he would do.

"Oh, you're awa—"

Markl's voice was cut off. There was a whistle of wind and Markl darted backwards, something gleaming in his outstretched hand. The Shifter closed the space between them, a snarl in the depth of his throat. He attacked Markl in a fury of swipes that was too quick for Damien to see, even if there was enough light. His footwork was light; each jump from the ground barely made a sound. Damien could imagine talons at the end of each hand, like an eagle's, and one swipe could easily take off Markl's arm.