Plot Pieces

Demon Destroyers

--Based off a Dream--

Gillyen felt the incubus, pulsating threw is veins. 

"Let me out."  It pleaded sternly.

"Not a chance." He denied aloud as another attack from the smoke demon Reykur blurred his senses. 

A cough raked through him. This struggle against the Named Demon Reykur seemed pathetically futile and yet Gillyen remained standing.

"If you come out," he reminded, "you'll never go back in."

"If I don't come out," the creature scolded, "we'll both die."  

Gillyen turned suddenly, his special blade instinctively coming down to block a solidified attack from Reykur. 

"Say my Name." the incubus prompted.

"Demon don't have names." Gillyen shot back, impulsively repeating the words of the Church, before realizing his error. He was stuck in not one, but two battles that contradicted this. One battle was physical, the other mental, and each was with a Named Demon. 

"Sin." He cursed under his breath.

He could feel the incubus's laughter scorch through him.

"Oh but I have a Name. You gave it to me, in your darkest hour."

Gillyen managed to dodged out of the way from another smoke attack, but only just. Searing pain erupted from his left calf where corrosive smoke had grazed him. 

After all this time the fact that he was still able to feel pain continued to amaze him .

"You took that Name!" Gillyen accused, anger momentarily replacing his desperation. "It was never yours to have."

He could actually feel the parasitic incubus shrug within his body, its emotional control unnerved him. 

"That name is a symbol of the Church. It was the name I gave to my son at his dying mother's bequest. It is NOT the name of a fire leech that took advantage of me during a time of grief." At the end of the sentence, Gillyen's sword slashed through what looked like a thin layer of smoke. The painful hissing from Reykur told him otherwise.

He grinned, but his small victory was too soon celebrated.

Vapors enveloped his sword. Anger bellowed outwards from the Smoke Demon. A great force swept under his feet, knocking him down suddenly. 

He gasped, instantly wishing that he hadn't, as the thicker particles of low hanging corrosive smoke rushed into his lungs smothering him. 

"You mock us?"  The incubus inquired. "If we could survive the Crust without such pathetic hosts, do you think we'd be so easy to dispatch, Destroyer? Only a handful of you vessels are strong enough to hold even our weakest." 

Gillyen wheezed, his vision blurring further in pain. He needed to find Gene. She always had an answer when the dice were down. 

But no.

She'd disappeared, taken by one of Reykur's Fodder Demons. 

If he was truly the last hope the Church had for ending the struggle against Reykur, then humanity was screwed. How was he suppose to fight this intangible monstrosity that had whipped out entire cities.

"Reykur,"  there was palpable spite in the name, "was lucky. Pulled onto the Crust by a fanatic Summoner while some of us had to crawl our way up through the Mantle and past bedrock. Then he received a fitting Name chosen by Radical whose body is barely able to keep him attached to this plane."