Mad As A Hatter (Completed 2015) [WATTY AWARD WINNER *Featured Story*]

Chapter thirty: THE FIRST WAVE

Our first lineup up boats rocked and I ran to the edge, seeing Hell's sirens and aquatic devils using fangs to climb the ship. Isaac had his hands held back with two tusks of a demon. He yelled over his shoulder, "There's too much fog! We can't see who we're fighting!" I could sense our men dropping already.

Suddenly, the rumbling of cages shook the seas and I grabbed onto the railing. Then a soft click followed over hundreds of our boats. A thundering roar sent an earthquake to the sky and the wooden boards trembled below us.

Forty feet long feathers darted through the clouds, eyes from the ground only catching the blurs of festival colours. All lined up in rows, the wingspan of phoenixes and other flight creatures blocked the sun, the day darkening to night. Taking up the whole sky, one particular phoenix in the centre made a crying squawk and instantly, all their wings beat at the same time. A wave of wind pushed us around and we held the railing tighter.

The waves of wind heightened and even the shadows clung to each other, some lost in the violent gusts. Unlucky demons and men were tossed off the boat.

Squinting through the sharp wind, I saw clumps of fog sticking together, twirling to form one big cloud of darkness. Although the seas were now visible, the fog transformed into this growing, monstrous tornado. As the beat of wings grew—so did the tornado. It began to swallow an enemy boat, demons thrown around the tearing ship.

The creatures of flight made a throaty call and their wings shifted in a different direction. Downwards. The fog tornado dove into the water, the seas intensely bubbling. It became a large pot, the water stirring and boiling.

With the building pressure, an abrupt water geyser shot up. Then another. And another. The birds swooped down in a line, curving around the geysers as the sun returned—night back to day. The enemy fired but their shots kept hitting the geysers. A phoenix sunk its talons into the side of the enemy boat and rocked it. Demons fled, others tossed across the deck. The boat flipped as did other ships who shared the same fate.

Our soldiers roared in triumph, the strength of their voices sparking the fire in my chest. Some geysers transformed into water tornadoes, twisting around the water and sucking Hell's aquatic devils that tried to scale our ships.

"Forward!" I cried out.

Weapons were thrust upwards and gleamed in the light. Men charged towards the incoming enemy ship, tension within their shoulders released.

The demons swung on ropes and onto our deck, some sweeping in with wings and claws. One snatched our man, digging its talons into their shoulder and threw them off the ship. There was a splash.

I removed my two swords, my feet swift as fox tails, cuts clean and smooth. Limbs fell to my boots, blades taking throats with them. My legs entrapped necks and snapped them in a heartbeat.

The water wildly thrashed, eating up any poor creature that fell into its arms. Heads ended up in hands, throats ripped and thrown across the deck. Black blood splashed across the flag, painting this day of hungry murder.

Painful cries were swallowed in the gust of beating wings. I caught glimpses of talons sinking into spilling flesh, beaks stabbing through one part and out the other.

Every heartbeat meant another body hitting the water, anyone could've been fooled to think it was raining.

The rain of the dead.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, blood smearing across my lips. The wind battled against my back, hair whipping to the side. I felt someone watching me. I turned around and piercing blue eyes met mine.

Hello old friend, I thought with a grin.

I circled around the blond haired man, a blue vest and trousers covering his pale skin. Romane; Lord Death's main soldier—captain. Jessie's ex.

"Apparently we were lovers," I said.

Out slipped from his back were a pair of duo swords. The white glass blades were already dipped in blood, dripping on the wooden deck.

"Apparently," he said, his body facing me as I continued circling him.

I sensed cold blood running through his veins and where there was supposed to be a heartbeat was the humming of his body. His shoulders were relaxed and a casual look rested on his face.

He said, "What a pity. Our race will be down one Cold Blood." No pity was laced in his voice.

"I'm not like you," I said.

"Ah, right." His pink lips curled up. "You're a dirty traitor and absolute coward." I may have been a traitor but I was no coward. "But we have the same blood so I guess I could go a little easy on you," he said with a smirk.

I remained quiet. This wasn't the time for talking. "May the best Cold Blood win," he said, knees bent, one arm back.

Or perhaps I could say one more thing. "I may be my father's daughter but I am not identified as your kind," I darkly spoke.

"Really? Oh, how is your old man doing?" He was grinning. He knew.

That was when I noticed the golden watch hanging by his belt.

Suddenly there were no more cries. No beating of wings. No Levi. No Isaac. No Grim. Not even Alice or Romane. Just the ticking of the watch.

Someone's time was up today.

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