The Slayers: New Recruits

Chapter 5: Ankle Breakers

Ash screamed in pain as the burning red hand gripped his ankle, sinking its black ragged nails into his flesh as Ash fell back recoiling from the pain. The scorching hand burned through his jeans and into his leg as boiling blood splattered his skin as a silver blur suddenly severed the hand letting go of Ash and flung into the air spilling scarlet ichor all over the tainted grass before colliding back to the dirt as muffled screams are heard beneath the earth along with the sound of sliding metal as John sheathed his sword.

Frantic but catching his breath, Ash crawled away from the severed hand then looked to his ankle. The nails dug deep and his skin was blistered as a steady flow of blood started oozing from his wound. "Are you alright?" John asked Ash, his eyes darting around the ground for more. Ash didn't answer. He leaned forward towards his ankle grasping it before quickly letting go from the pain felt from the burns. "Sir, if I may," Ceris inquired towards John. "It's clear that Mr. Storms is badly wounded. I recommend calling medical services, and I can also offer to-"

Another bloodied hand broke through the ground reaching for John's ankle, but as fast as it appeared, John jumped away unsheathing his sword and cutting away the hand sending it flying to the side as more muffled screams disturb the earth. "What the hell are these?!" Brass said with bent knees ready to jump. "What the hell is going on?!" John looked to Brass sharply than to the others, sword still drawn.

"Everybody off the ground, NOW!"

And just like that, The Slayers scattered looking for anything above ground. John at that moment leaped onto a tombstone almost gracefully and balanced himself nearly perfectly. Brass saw John and attempted to do the same jumping onto a tombstone-cross, but part of the stone broke as his foot fell after it scraping his shin hard against the block. "Shit!" Brass cried out clutching his shin and noticing a dirt mound digging towards him. With little time, Brass put his good foot upon the top of the cross pushing himself up and balancing himself with outstretched arms as the mound stopped at the grave. Brass was left at quite an awkward position as his arms were apart teetering on one foot as his bent scraped leg bled slowly dripping droplets of blood onto the graveyard dirt. The ground seemingly let out a disturbing, distorted, and disharmonic bunch of laughter.

"Floor is lava! Floor is lava!" the voices mocked.

With John and Brass balancing atop gravestones, all that was left were Ashton and Ceris. The mound at Brass's gravestone shifted then dug toward the only remaining Slayers left: Ash and Ceris. As Ash struggled to get up and struggled to crawl, he looked to Ceris who not only was just standing by him, he stood looking at Ash with another soft but present smile."Do you need assistance, Mr. Storms?" Ash very much needed assistance and there was panic coming over him as the mound got closer and closer to them, but once again, as Ash tried to speak-

"Pick Ash up then head for the tree!" John ordered.

"Right away sir!" Ceris replied, instantly putting Ceris into a sprint towards Ash, picking him up under his arms and legs with surprising ease, then carrying him towards the graveyard tree in a dash as the dirt mound hastily followed.

"Can you still move, sir?" Ceris asked Ash. "Yes!" Ash said defiantly. "I can still help myself!" Ash knew he was hurt, Ash knew Ceris was only trying to help, and Ash knew that his words sounded selfish, but Ash hated himself. It hasn't even been two hours in the job, but not only has he greatly injured himself, and not only has Ceris proven to be better than him at - everything, Ash has fallen to the point of being carried through the job. Literally.

Reaching the tree, Ash grabbed the closest limb and started pulling himself up with the help of Ceris pushing. "Do be careful, sir," "I got it!" Ash shot back. Ash eventually adjusted, sitting atop the tree limb and holding on to a branch above as he offered Ceris a hand up, but as Ceris grabbed his hand, a bloodied hand broke through the ground and grabbed Ceris's ankle within a flash.

He did not scream, and he did not flinch, but he did bleed, and he did burn, and instead of falling back and recoiling in pain, Ceris simply let go of Ash's hand, looked to the bloodied hand watching its ragged black nails cut and scrape his leg digging its burning crooked fingers deep into his flesh, but instead wailing or howling out in pain, Ceris curled up his right fist then punched the bloodied hand over and over again.

Ash's eyes widened in surprise watching the act knowing the pain he went through when a hand grabbed him, yet Ash watched with disbelief as Ceris landed only four heavy punches at the hand before the hand finally let go completely mangled as it receded back to the crying earth. Afterward, Ceris simply turned back to Ash, smiled, then continued to climb up the tree.

"My apologies for the interruption, but thank you for offering your hand to me."

Ash was speechless.

"JOHN!!" Brass cried, calling the attention of both Ash and Ceris as well, but then reminding Ash of the pain of his ankle causing him to winch back to reality. "What the hell is that?!" Although still shaking and balancing on one leg, Brass managed to point towards the gates outside to a disturbing figure. At first, Ash couldn't make out what it was from the distance, but as he squinted and looked closer, he could make out a man, an oddly dressed man. He wore a hood and a cape, a cloak, but with the sun behind him, the man's face and actual appearance were wrapped in shadows, but it looked like he was holding something. There was something in his hands...

Suddenly, the gates flew open in a crash breaking apart the lock followed by concrete and earth breaking into cracks all from the standing figure. It threw Brass off balance causing him to fall from his gravestone and on to the ground. Many swears were heard from even up Ash and Ceris's tree as Brass frantically recollected himself, but now multiple mounds dug towards him as John started leaping from gravestone to gravestone towards him. A burst of loud distorted laughter encompassed the graveyard as the figure at the gates started to seemingly float away.

"My apologies, but I must help Mr. John and Mr. Knuckles, Mr. Storms," said Mr. Newton. "Wh-what?" Ash asked, but before he could be heard, Ceris already jumped off the tree and started to sprint towards Brass with impressive speed completely ignorant of the demon-hand-gophers. There's... I know there's something... something about Ceris... Ash didn't and couldn't finish the thought, for he felt drained. Zombies, demon hands, the hooded guy, Ceris, The Slayers in general, all of it was becoming too much for Ash. He knew that... he hoped that becoming a Slayer would be good for him: he thought it'd be the perfect job for him, the perfect escape, and he hoped that he would maybe finally find answers for himself, but this, all of this... Is it really what he's looking for? All this hoping. All this running. Is this... Is this what I really-

Hey, said the familiar voice again.

Hey, Ash thought back. You've been pretty quiet, don't you think?

Excuse me for playing it safe, she said. You don't trust these people as much as I.

It would've been much nicer if you'd paid more attention to what's going on, Ash thought, looking at his bleeding ankle.

Oh my god! She gasped. What happened? What have you been-... oh. Right...

Yeah, Ash sighed. He felt himself growing wearier and wearier swaying his head side to side trying to keep himself upon the tree while also trying to ignore the pain and blood dripping from him.

I'm so sorry for not being fully present with you until now, but... I'm at least I'm here now. Ash closed his eyes. He doesn't know how long he can stay awake.

It's okay.. You can rest now.. Just rest now, Ashley.. I'm here for you now.. Just rest now.. Just... Rest now...

And just like that, Ash felt himself fall backward and lost control.