Chapter 30 The Armor and The Rage 1
Callin sat up and rubbed his eyes, his ears and his nose immediately hard at work cataloging everything around him. As if the instant he woke up, he needed to understand his surroundings completely, even if he could see that he was simply in the bedroom he shared with Carmen and Raina.
Their breathing patterns were slow and steady, matched by their heartbeats, telling him they were deep asleep. His ears and his nose caught nothing unusual, but he knew something had woke him. He swung out of bed and padded out into the living room, the hardwood floor cool on his bare feet, his head up as he sniffed the air constantly. Still nothing.
He stood in the heavy shadows and closed his eyes, focusing his senses outwards. Sending a ring of increasing awareness outwards. Questing. After a few minutes, he growled under his breath as he still caught nothing unusual. It was extremely rare that his senses woke him up with a false alarm. He suspected whatever he had sensed had left, that it was no longer close enough for him to detect.
He gazed towards the closed door to Ahleenas bedroom, wondering how awake she was at that moment. He held no doubts that even in sleep, she had sensed him moving, was even now tracking him. Suddenly it occurred to him that their mind-link was always active. Even now, as she slept.
He grinned darkly and immediately set his imagination to work, his eyes closed as he focused on creating as detailed imagery as possible. What would happen to her dreams if he flooded the link with all manner of interesting thoughts, images, and sensations?
He narrowed in on the recent, and oh-so vivid memories of kissing Carmen and Raina, sending as much of his reactions into the link as possible. He could feel his heartbeat ratcheting upwards in response, as he remembered the heat of those kisses. As he re-lived the experience by bringing the memory up into the very forefront of his thoughts.
Then his eyes flew open as he heard a soft moan from the bedroom. Raina! He had totally forgot how her empath power was also always active! He clamped his thoughts, sensations, and emotions down under tight control, feeling his cheeks burn in the dark. He hadn't intended to torment her dreams, too!
He abruptly felt an overpowering urge to get away from the three girls, to get some space to think and breath and just live. He knew the urge to run was due to feeling like he had Ahleena perched on top of his every thought, watching him 24/7. And he knew living in the same small cabin as Raina and Carmen was also wreaking havoc on his control, like an unstoppable machine bent on tearing down his walls and leaving him open and vulnerable.
He stepped out into the night, his eyes flicking left and right as he checked his flanks. It was a honed habit, one that was borne out of a lifetime of danger. It was an instinct he had been slowly letting go of, as the relative safety of the mansion set him at ease. Now, his every instinct was fully alive, fully alert, and he stalked out into the woods with the hunters precision and silence.
The sensation of his instincts fully alert and ready was fierce, hot. Like life accelerated. It was always thrilling when he ramped up his senses, but now, with his power having grown so much lately, it was completely intoxicating. He walked for an hour, lost in thought, lost in examining how his power had grown and changed.
Then, as he stood in the moon shadows under a towering pine tree, he found himself contemplating his bone armor. That lattice of glittering white bone that had grown up out of his body and covered him, protected him, and gave him wicked spikes on his forearms, shoulders, and calves. It had burst out of him uncontrolled, in reaction to the Flayer, and he hadn't thought too deeply on it ever since. It had been agony on a core-deep level, and it was not something he wanted to remember.
Now, though, as he stood in the woods, he wondered if he could will the armor out. If he could control it, so it wouldn't slash him to ribbons as it exploded outwards. He looked down at his hands, deciding to start there. Deciding to see if he could will his armor to just grow out of his arms alone, instead of his entire body.
He shut his eyes as the seconds passed, feeling no change, feeling nothing happening. He growled in frustration and focused on his breathing, centering himself as Ghost had taught him. As Ahleena, also, had taught him. And then his power flared bright, right in the forefront of his thoughts, and he felt a burst of excitement flash through him. With his power here, like this, he was actually in control!
He immediately pictured his arms covered in that lacy, shining bone armor. Then, once the image was as complete and as detailed as he could make it, he merged it with the flaring power in his running thoughts. Immediately, he felt the bone-deep agony of it, as his power forced his bones to grow and slice their way up out of his muscles and skin.
He swayed on his feet, eyes clenched tight, and waiting for his healing power to accommodate the changes in his body, using the knowledge that this searing pain would end soon to keep himself from screaming his throat raw. Then, the pain faded and he found he could breathe evenly again.
The latticework of white bone covering his arms and hands was covered in blood, but it still glittered in the moonlight, lines of crimson and pale white in gentle, complex curves. He grinned, very impressed, very amazed, and so excited it felt like lines of ice were running down his legs as his adrenaline ramped up. He immediately closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on the rest of the armor around his body, allowing his power to dart into the image like a bolt of colorless lightning.
He dropped to his knees with a shriek, unable to maintain silence, as his bone armor exploded outwards, wrapping him head-to-toe in less than a second. But this time, his healing power was equally active, equally charged and ready, and it repaired the agony and damage in an instant. He opened his eyes once the pain faded, looking down in awe at the armor. Evilly serrated spikes grew from near his wrist and curved back along his forearms towards his elbow, three on each forearm, and the bone armor now had entirely wrapped around his chest, with joints for his shoulders, waist, and legs. Only his face was completely bare.
The moment he stood a wave of sour dizziness washed through him, followed by a severe pounding in his temples. He breathed deep and waited, standing still, his hands clenched at his sides. He knew his healing power must be working overtime right then, trying to adjust and accommodate all the violent changes.
And then the wind shifted slightly, now presenting an unmistakable scent to his heightened senses. He looked around in shock, his claws fully bared and his power beginning to burn even hotter. He could have sworn he had just scented the Flayer!
Fear flooded into him like a freight train made of ice, and in its cold embrace his muscles suddenly felt sodden and thick. How could it be? Didn't Ahleena and Jacob say it would never be able to cross the Silver Line, the psychic ward around the mansion lands? Why was it here still? Was it hunting him, or just playing with him?
Then he sensed it, straight in front of him, and all doubts about it really being here vanished. He stared into the thick shadows, already in a balanced crouch, ready for fight or flight. He couldn't understand how he could sense it so close but wasn't able to see it. Then, he watched in shock as he saw the colors of the woods right in front of him blur and shift, a nauseating swirl of unnatural colors, until finally the Flayer appeared.
It was standing not even fifteen feet away. He understood immediately that it had some form of color blending camouflage, which was why he hadn't been able to see it until it was so close. Like a curious puppy, it had its massive, misshapen head cocked slightly as it studied him. It was a demented counterpoint, a normally sweet-puppy gesture on this hate filled killing abomination.
Its eyes were sharp, shining with bright intelligence as it examined his bone armor. Clearly analyzing it for weak points. As Callin was backing up, back towards the cabin, part of his mind wondered if his bone armor would protect him from its psionic ability to rip the skin off its prey. The other part of his mind was screaming telepathically as loud as he could, trying to call Jacob or Ahleena, or anybody, calling for help. For some reason, he couldn't link to anyone. It was as if he were standing in a vacuum chamber, or a void. His telepathy felt crippled, sluggish, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold a telepathic conversation with someone unless they were no more than ten feet away.
Cold realization flooded through him as he recognized it was the Flayer, it was blocking him, keeping his mental voice from reaching out to the others. This terrible truth, this aspect of the beasts power and intelligence added a whole new element to the already crushing fear that was making him so unable to prepare for battle.
Then his power surged wildly, hotter than ever before, and at that same moment Callin decided to let it free. It seemed the only way to survive this. Then the Flayer attacked. With a ground-shaking scream, it rushed him, its unnatural speed turning it into nothing more than a silvery blur. Callin tried to throw himself back and away, but its straight thrust still connected solidly with his shoulder. Its claws, ten inches of thick, dirty, razor-tipped bone didn't pierce his armor, but the force of the blow lifted him completely off his feet and threw him against a tree.
Stunned for only a split second, Callin scrambled to his feet, feeling his control dissolve as the rage inside went completely, ravening mad.
He stood with his head bowed forward, his elbows out slightly and his hands held palms up out in front of him, as his claws slid out even farther. His power was running rampant now, snapping crackling lines of frigid, blue fire tracing around the lines of his bone armor in bursts. The tip of each claw was adorned with a pin-point of harsh blue light that hissed with lethal intent. Callin slowly lifted his head and met the Flayers eyes. The depth of rage, of pure animal bloodlust in his gaze made the Flayer pause for a second. Then it threw itself at him again.
This time he was ready. He launched himself directly at it, and they slammed face first into each other. The Flayer threw its massive arms around his torso and began to squeeze, snapping its yellowed fangs in his face. Despite its fearsome strength, it couldn't even begin to flex his bone armor. Callin laughed viciously in its face and smashed both hands together on either side of its face. It roared in pain and tried to shake its head, but Callins claws were sunk fully into its cheeks, biting deep into the bones under its skin.
He threw every bit of strength he had into holding it still long enough to get it to meet his eyes. Then he savagely ripped his arms towards him, his claws furrowing through its face, sending chunks of flesh flying as they tore free. This time the Flayer screamed in pain and threw him across the clearing. He went completely through the trunk of a tree, the lush canopy overhead suddenly pierced by bright moonlight as the entire tree fell, splintered to ribbons by the force of the impact. Callin rolled fluidly to his feet and leapt back at the Flayer, his war scream ringing out through the woods.
This time, the moment they touched, Callin dropped like a rock. He writhed on the ground, blinded and gasping. His face felt like it was being held in a vat of molten steel, a dazzling star of all-consuming agony displacing all thoughts, all awareness. Just one part of his mind was left, just enough to dimly recognize that the Flayer had lived up to its name, it had used its power to flay the skin off his face. The only part of him not covered by his bone armor.
Faintly, through the storm of pain, Callin heard the Flayer moving away. It was enraged, he could hear it literally smashing its way through the woods. It sounded like it was slashing at every tree and bush it encountered, howling like a demon the entire time. The darkness in his mind began to swirl, and he knew he was about to pass out. He desperate ran from the blanket of blackness, trying to focus his mind enough to get one last message out. Trying to reach Ahleena. And he felt relief wash through him when his mind touched Ahleena's, as she instantly sent him a wave of strength, through their mind link.
"Focus, Callin! Your healing power is not going to work on this wound, so you need to focus! Hold your thoughts, your very life force, down and into one, straight line as I've taught you!"
"Keep talking, keep our link active!" Callin sent, his mental voice jagged and unfocused, cracks of agony scattering the patterns of his thoughts all about.
Ahleena kept talking, and Callin could feel how she was channeling strength to him. He could feel how just having her presence in his thoughts allowed him to channel his own strength into the wound. And behind her telepathic presence, he could tell she was distracted by something happening back at the cabin.