Of Guns and Gore

I'm not a Monster

"So you want to leave my suit to be in a body of your own?" The Slayer could honestly say that this was the happiest moment in his life.

"Bingo."

"So give me another order, let's get this information." The Slayer ignored any option of his previous therapy attempt, and sought peace in having his suit back to himself when this was all over.

"Whoa, someone seems eager all of a sudden." The Slayer merely nodded, too ecstatic to speak.

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(?????'s POV)

The goal of life was merely to spread blight to all crevices untouched by the darkness. Most vessels understood only this, but she was different. She had lived many lifetimes, evolved from what was once flesh and hatred, learned. Now her purpose was to rally, to lead. The desire was always there, but the need for her services had been unrequired for centuries. That's why her teeth rose in a grotesque grin when she felt the familiar tingle of action.

Her cocoon split open, her peons squabbling amongst themselves the whole way, desperate for direction. Clawed hands lifted her lithe form from the remnants of her shell, careful in their proceedings. Her eyes beheld the gorey landscape she called home, a triad of the red skinned warriors knelt staring expectantly up at her.

Show me

Her Physic powers reach out and touch their simple minds, each at the earliest stage of their evolution. Their response was swift, the eldest of the three turning and barking for the others to follow.

She glided after them, her feet never touching the ground. Upon extiting her den, the problem became apparent. That which fueled her was out of balance. Usually free-flowing, the connection she had felt strained. Limitless energy now felt finite. It wasn't until the the warriors led her to the edge of the birthing pits that she truly understood.

Gather more

The Warriors left to complete her bidding as she stared into the anomoly that now faced her. Above the pits lay a storm of Hell's life essence, raging and shifting angrily. The storm hungrily pulled at her latent energy, hoping to add to its vast stores. The storm hadn't caught her focus however, but rather the rift within it.

Although most could do little more than call upon Hell's fire with their gifts, She was far more powerful. The energy around her was but a pile of thread, and she was the most delicate needleworker around. Clearing her mind, she reached out to the rift, willing it towards her. After all her years of hibernation, her powers were not at peak performance, but the rift began to float lazily towards her after a few seconds.

Now it was but a few lengths away, repeatedly opening and closing thousands of times a second. She became encapsulated the moment she reached out to it with her mind, so much so, that she barely acknowledged that the warriors had returned with more of their kind in tow, including one of the more impressive denizens of the pits. Standing at eight feet tall, with an excess of rippling muscle covering it's body, they were a force to be reckoned with. There were more important matters in that moment however.

Unlike the rifts she could open, which were quite similar, this rift ran it's energy the opposite way. Even with all her knowledge, she couldn't begin to fathom how this could be so. It went against everything she understood about the energy she thought she understood. To understand, she scryed into into it, wishing a glimpse of where it led.

The sight that beheld her made the crown she wore heavy. Responsibility dictated that she was to intervene. She could feel Him after all, the tainted energy she possessed residing in that monster. She turned back to the warriors.