Seeker: Demon Killers [Fantasy/Action | Complete]

Chapter 4: Monsters of the Deep

Damien was a sitting duck. Strong as his telepathy was, turning away everyone who approached the barrier was no mean feat. Coupled with the absurdly powerful demons that have surged through, it was just short of a miracle he was in one piece – but the same couldn't be said of Markl.

Two more monsters later, Tora, trembling with exhilaration and adrenaline, just about managed to drag her half-dead body to where Damien stood with a heavy frown on his face. She turned her neck both ways, easing the joints with a crack. Seven huge dead demons lay around him, charred. The air smelled of roasted squid.

"Tora!" Relief was palpable in his voice. "Thank god you're here. It's Markl..."

"What is it?" Tora said, alarmed. She coughed, hitching a breath. She spat the contents out: there was blood still in her saliva.

Damien gestured, helpless. At his feet, the shape Tora had at first taken to be a dead demon yet to start decomposing groaned. Blood covered him from head to toe. His arms and legs were blackened and shiny. The remaining fleshy parts surrounding the burns were a horrible red and blistered.

Holy crap.

"Turns out those demons have quite sharp teeth."

As Tora flipped the leader over, her stomach did a flip of its own.

A long, jagged gash ran down the front of Markl's body, almost halving him down the middle. Blood pulsed out in a steady stream from his abdomen. Bits of grass stuck to open wounds. His face was white as marble, his lips blue and eyes fluttering beneath his eyelids. She could spot the beginnings of an organ – the liver? – stitching itself together below his ribs. She gagged; the combined smell of decomposing demon around and the sickly scent of blood and body parts were stomach-churning. The initial thrill of killing demons drained away.

"Hang in there, Markl," she said, more for her own benefit than anything else. Why couldn't they have a healer on the team? Could Markl even regenerate all the blood and tissue he'd lost? Either way, he was out of the fight. It was just typical. Markl never asked for help. Tora wasn't sure if it was out of his own confidence in regenerating or he wanted to uphold his leader image, but it was always frustrating to see him ripped to shreds – sometimes literally – when he could have asked.

If he had only asked.

"I think Ross is taking down the last ones," she said, taking off her t-shirt and leaving on a tank top. She stuffed it over the wound, stemming some of the blood. Markl's eyelids fluttered open. "Can you seal the rip?"

"Not whilst I'm still turning the humans away," said Damien through gritted teeth.

"I can take down my barrier. If you just downsize the area, we can get the rip sealed. We need to buy some time for him to heal—" Tora glanced down. Markl's organs had reorganised themselves and the layers of fat between organs were squeezing in. "—but we can't afford the rip converging again."

"Right." Damien panted, exertion evident on his little face. Humans started to flock in from the distance, no longer being reminded of sudden important events that required a detour. Ross made her way to the group, covered partly in dead squid innards and partly in grass and dirt, dragging a weak Carlos behind.

"Oh, bloody hell. What happened to him?" Carlos took in Markl's wrecked body and his mouth fell open.

"One guy, seven demons?"

He whistled. Tora straightened up, wincing as her back spasmed. The bones were healing, leaving a tingling in her spine.

"Damn. Not our leader for nothing, but he looks like something that should hang in a butcher shop."