War in the Mountains

Chapter Three: Infernus

(This is going to be GORY. So, leave if you don’t really like blood and guts. Also, the title is slightly based off of Doom. The gore is for lore reasons. And also because).

Pyro snaked through the thick undergrowth, relying not upon his eyes, but his smell. A nightmare from around two years ago was on his mind, and finally, he gave into it.

A fire, ravaging the Imperium. A massive, crimson wyvern with another five Demons following it and thousands more circling and killing indiscriminately. Blood and bodies of the slaughtered and wounded lay scattered on the grass, horrible screams of those who burned echoing in his mind. The feeble cries of the near-dead. The overwhelming smell of burnt flesh and the sharp, metallic taste of blood. The sight of absolute carnage as the Demons ran at the survivors who were huddled around the entrance to the dens. A terrifying howl of rage and misery came from nearby as a young female raptor saw her eggs being crushed. Pyro flickered around, his eyes locked on a nearby wyvern. He lunged, claws a-blaze with fury at the sight of the many dead. Many young who would never grow up. Elders that died in pain.

His father on the ground, torn throat seeping blood.

The raptor grabbed the Demon by the throat, the other arm prepared to slam into its throat. Three of the claws on his hand stabbed into the Demon facing him. He threw it to the ground, jumped onto it, and practically ripped open its chest, uncaring of his own injuries. ‘Suffer, Demon. My kind shall be tormented no more.’ Pyro said, his own words reverberating through his head as he remembered them. ‘I do not die, worm,’ the wyvern had hissed. It reared up on its hind legs, wings making feeble attempts of flight. Blasts of lighting launched from its jaws, leaving a large slash along Pyro’s side. He remembered it now, tracing a claw along it. The screech of a young raptor had renewed his energy to fight, and he launched up against the Demon’s mouth, shutting it as he clawed at its eyes with the talons on his hind legs. He launched himself off as the beast fell. Satisfied with the kill, he scanned for the younger raptors. Seeing a small group cornered, he ran towards them, sliding to the side when he reached them, putting himself between the Demon and the litter of raptors. The small ones roared their defiance at the Demon, and Pyro smiled. ‘I will not let you even touch the young of Imperium. Die.’ he said, rearing up and slashing at the Demon’s throat. It danced back, out of the way. Purple stood his ground and beckoned for the wyvern to come closer.

It took the bait, and Pyro jumped onto its neck, claws ripping its wings, jaws sinking into its flesh. Shaking its head like an angry dog, the Demon tried to throw him off. ‘Morieris, vermis. Non me.’ it tried to say. (Translation: ‘You will die, worm. Not me.’). ‘Si morior, si morior. Vivere volo, daemonium.’ Pyro replied. (Translation: If I die, I die. But I intend to live, demon). Pyro bit into its right wing, nearly ripping it off. The beast roared in pain, slashing at the Praetor with horrible fury. Three claws marred the Heir’s right arm, a burning pain spreading through him. ‘Clawlock. Help…’ a poisoned Pyro weakly said. His brother, nearby, darted over. He was the battlefield medic and an experienced fighter, and thus carried the Wyvern-cut antidote. The wyvern was nearby, bleeding to death. Clawlock poured a small amount into his wounds. ‘Let it rest. We’re retreating into the Lower Dens, so gather the young and run to the Bunker.’ Pyro’s brother said. The Praetor and his brother gathered up the surviving children. (Surviving. The very thought of young dead sickened the Heir). There, they and the last of the Guard went into the Lower Bunkers. And, five days later, Chapter One happens.

-Ranger