Violent Vampire Story Purely For Fun

Violent Vampire Story Purely For Fun

by Tom Lazur

A word of warning from the author: This is a violent story about a medieval warrior fighting a band of vampires in an uninhabited town. I wanted to write this story because at the time had nothing better to do and I wanted to practice writing action. Keep in mind that since we have vampires in this story, I might as well give some characters magic powers as well. It adds flavor. Enjoy!


The old man's eyes were pleading, and his tone was that of desperation. "Over the last ten days, they've killed half of our able bodied men. They've stolen our children and defiled our women. Most are too scared to utter their cursed names." The old man began too speak in a frenzied voice. "There's no one left to fight them! Please, you are our last and best hope."

Fin's face was bleak. "I want to help you, but one man against a dozen members of the Kindred…"

The old man interrupted. "One man? One warrior! One wizard! You are strong, well trained, and versed in the art of spell casting! And you are a nobleman." The old man started to show anger. "It is your duty to protect those weaker than you. To protect those abused and persecuted. If we fall, surely the other hamlets will follow! Do it for honor if not for pity!"

"I'm sure they're just as strong as I am! Probably even more so. God only knows how long they've been alive. My friend Delano will be here within a day or so with more soldiers, and they will surely…"

"A day or so? Listen to me! In a day or so, we'll all be dead. Those beasts want our blood, and wherever we run, wherever we flee, they will find us, and kill us! You must fight!"

"How do you expect me to fight? I don't even have a weapon!"

"If you did, would you fight?"

"The question is moot because there isn't a blacksmith for…"

"Just answer, if you had a good, strong weapon, made of the finest tempered steel, would you fight?"

"Well, maybe. Why? Do you have one?"

The old man turned away from Fin and limped to the side of the room. He pulled a quilt that was covering something… a large chest. After pulling an iron key from his tunic, he placed it within the lock, and twisted. The mechanism clicked, and the lid popped open. He reached inside, and with a grunt lifted up something wrapped in a white cloth. He hobbled back to Fin, arms outstretched, and offered the bundle to him. Fin took the bundle, unwrapped it, and dropped the cloth to the floor. In his hand he held one of the fiercest looking short swords he had ever seen. It was of good weight, and shined like it was new polished. It was double edged; yet one of the edges was serrated with sharp curves.

"It is called Holy Fire," said the old man. "It has been protecting this village for two centuries. It truly is a mystical sword. If anything can help you defeat those monsters, it is this."

Fin looked from the sword to the old man, then back to the sword. He sighed and said, "Alright, you've got yourself a hero."


The enormous church bell started to toll, and scores of bats sprang from the belfry and poured into the night like some dark bile spilled upwards into the moonlit sky. Fin stood alone in the Town Square. The bell rang ten… eleven… twelve times, then stopped, leaving a long lasting, but fading resonance. Although it was very cold outside, sweat still beaded on Fin's forehead. His brow was furrowed, and his ears twitched as they tried to listen to his surroundings. The combination of the bell's vibrations and the bats' screeching in the distance, he couldn't hear the subtlety of the sounds he would need to hear. In the pitch of the night, his sight couldn't be well trusted, and his hearing would be imperative to his survival of the cursed night. He needed to hear the first sign of movement, the displacement of dirt, the scuffing of clothing on the side of a building, the cracking of a knuckle, but he couldn't hear anything because of the damned screeching! The screeching. No.

Fin spun around to see nearly a dozen, winged rodents swoop in toward the open road. They came down screaming and Fin quickly unsheathed his sword and cut towards the hellish creatures. Two and three times his vorpal blade went snicker-snap, but it cut no flesh. The eleven bats kept on flying and disappeared behind nearby buildings. Fin stood in a ready stance and tightened his grip on his hilt until it gave out a leathery squeak. Fin could hear the beating of his own heart as it pumped blood through his body, and resounded in his temples; but he heard nothing else.

Then a fog started to rise and billow from the adjoining streets, a thick, bluish, supernatural vapor that flowed towards him like plump, fat fingers greedily reaching for something to consume. At that point, Fin started to charge his power, commanding his inner magi to collect and manifest itself into physical reality. Fin stuck out his unencumbered hand and gritted his teeth, as the air in his palm seemed to twist and contort. The shifting space began to spin and twirl with increasing strength, until a strong wind started to emanate from Fin's outstretched digits. With a gasp, Fin released the pent up gale wind, and sent it flying towards one of the fogs. The wind swept through the wet air and dispersed it. The wisps and ghostly fingers split apart from each other and Fin could swear he heard wailing.

"He's dispatched Jervis!" one of the beasts yelled. Fin looked over his shoulder to see that three members of the Kindred had returned from their state of mist form. One in particular looked very unhappy. They were dressed totally in black, except one who wore a purple vest lined with a gold fabric. They all had twisted, demonic faces which revealed their true inner natures. They were vampires, predators, and his sworn enemies. They all looked at Fin with a hungry loathing. A look that seemed to resemble one that a farmer would give to a chicken that had squawked at him before he was going to chop its head off. Fin noticed that one of their party had a different expression on. The one that had yelled wore a face that seethed with disgust, frustration, and pure hatred. At this point, the remaining seven vampires had appeared and joined the others. There were ten in total.

"Go ahead. Kill him, Nessir," said the vampire in the purple vest. The enraged vampire looked appraisingly at its leader, then turned to Fin with a snarl.

"You're a dead man!" roared the un-dead creature, and it sprinted towards Fin at break-neck speed. Fin leveled his weapon, and set his feet in the ground. Once the vampire was upon him, he sidestepped to his right slashed his sword. The vampire spun out the way, then stopped facing Fin with it's now sprung talons at the ready. Fin didn't give the beast a chance to start. He lunged at his opponent, and thrust his blade forward. The vampire parried the thrust with its arm, but Fin disengaged his blade and reposted, planting the sword three and a half inches into the vampire's chest, just piercing its heart. The vampire fell back with an agonized expression on his face, and slowly the flesh burned and melted from it. It looked as if in a matter of seconds, a corpse had aged one hundred years, then putrefied until it was just a mound of dust and ashes.

"There are only nine of you left," thundered Fin. "Who's next?"

Fin promptly ran from the mob and darted into the nearest building that had been abandoned by the townspeople. Loud screams, wails, and roars followed him inside. He then ran through the kitchen and up a flight of stairs that led him to a small hallway. As he heard a roar close by, he realized it had come from a window. A moment later the window flew to pieces and in leapt one of his pursuers. The vampire's eyes were ablaze in a red color that seemed to mimic the most imposing hellfire imaginable. Its lips curled back to reveal a set of ivory white, pointed teeth, with its canines extending a full two inches past the rest.

"I'll take your heart!" spat out the vampire through its enlarged teeth, then it roared again. Fin lashed out with his fist and landed a solid blow upon its left tooth. Fin heard a thick snap, and the vampire flinched, then immediately threw out its fist into Fin's side. The vampire's blow sent Fin sideways and off one foot. The vampire kicked into Fin's stomach before he had hit the ground. Fin was on his back. He looked into the vampire's face and saw that its left canine had been knocked in half. The vampire arched its back and prepared to lunge, but not before Fin summoned his inner strength, his mana, into a tangible ball of energy, and sent it flying towards his foe. The Kindred jumped up in an attempt to dodge the intense vertigo of magic, but it caught the vampire in the leg and sent it into a forward spin that slammed its face into the ground. Fin wasted no time in rising, pointing his sword downwards, and embedding it into the vampire's back with so much force that Fin fell to a knee. The vampire writhed and wriggled, screaming under the sword's deadly placement, and after a few moments, had decomposed into an unrecognizable heap.

Just as Fin got up, he heard the footsteps surging up the stairs. Fin ran into the adjoining bedroom and continued to the nearest window. Fin threw his hands up to protect his face from the clear shards that flew all around him as he broke through the glass. Fin landed on the roof of the neighboring one-story house, and started running again. As he reached the end of the roof, he saw another vampire appear on the edge of the next house. Fin still didn't stop. He sped up. The vampire looked at him recognized Fin's challenge and broke into a run as well, and upon reaching the end, jumped towards Fin with a war cry echoing through his throat. Fin growled and leapt up into the air, his sword coming down in a slashing cut that took off the left arm of the vampire, which quickly stopped yelling. Fin landed on the roof that the vampire had just occupied, and the vampire slammed into the side of the other house, and then fell into the alley. Fin turned around to see if he was being followed but saw none of his pursuers. Then confusion struck him. He couldn't breath, his throat hurt, and his feet were off the ground. He came to the conclusion that something had grabbed him by his neck from behind, and was proceeding to choke him. The vampire didn't try to choke him. Instead, it reached its other hand back and into a fist, then gave such a punch to the back of Fin's head that if he hadn't raised a shield of magic behind it, it would have burst open like an over ripe watermelon. The blow still sent Fin flying, and Fin started seeing swirling colors and bright lights that danced and disoriented him. Fin landed somewhere that he couldn't discern, and felt himself bounce and skid like a rag doll. After painstakingly rising to his feet, he heard the rasp of someone nearby. It was the armless vampire, and it was spilling mass amounts of blood onto the ground. The vampire was on its knees bent over and trying to lap up the lost blood while whimpering. Fin had fallen into the adjoining alley.

"Oh lordy, lordy, lordy. Can't lose it all, oh no. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, can't, can't, can't, can't." the vampire was obviously in shock. Fin shook himself back into his senses, raised his sword, and brought it down mercifully onto the neck of the creature. The head popped off spurting puss and blood every which way, and the body twitched, fell, then both burned up and were reduced to dust. At that point, Fin realized what pain he was in and put his hand to his chest. He had suffered an uncountable amount of scrapes, cuts, and bruises, and had cracked at least two ribs. It was getting hard to breathe and he knew this would have to end soon one way or the other.

Fin kept to the alley, running away from the main street and towards the east most side of the town. As he ran he could hear the stamping of feet above and behind him. The hoots and hollers of before were gone. All Fin could sense from the vampires besides their footsteps was their animosity and unequaled hatred. If they found him, death would be a blessing compared to the torture they would wreak. Running from them would gain him nothing, so Fin set himself, charged his legs with magical energy, and leapt onto the roof of the building on his right. As soon as his feet touched the wooden plank, he heard something coming towards him from the side. He brought his sword around, barely parrying the thrashing talons of another vampire. Fin dove into a roll and came up onto his feet facing the opposite direction. Before him stood two of his enemies, one of which that was considerably taller than the rest. He was easily seven feet tall, and had a heavy, barrel chest. The other took out a particularly nasty looking dagger that was curved and had two smaller points coming from the bottom of the blade.

"Looks like a tasty little thing, don't 'e Lich?" smirked the shorter one.

The big one said in a monotone voice. "I'm gettin' pretty hungry Verdin."

Fin pulled his elbow back and leveled his sword. "You want supper? Here's the main course, licks! Ya!"

Low pitched at first, then steadily higher, Fin hummed louder and louder. Focusing kinetic energy, and bringing his true faith into the physical realm, he forced ethereal power into his sword, making a blue flame appear around it. The vampires lunged at Fin, talons, tooth, and dagger, set to rend his flesh from his bones. Fin dodged the attack, and then countered with his own volley of thrusts and swings. His sword cut, and his feet kicked, and every second passing the three combatants sped up. The rest of the world appeared to be a swirl of space that couldn't keep up. The armed vampire snaked his weapon, as if it was a living creature, trying to pierce Fin's skin to drink up its own share of his blood. The blue flame from Fin's sword illuminated the surrounding area, and everyone's body seemed to be a strange warping of its past self. The demons of the night appeared to be ghastly apparitions, with shadows accentuating all of their grotesque features. In the light, Fin appeared to be an avenging archangel, sent forth from the heavens to smite Hell's detestable creations.

Fin drooped to a knee to avoid the fearful knife's swipe, then brought his own blade around in a vicious semi-circle that cleaved the leg of the armed vampire off its thigh. The sickening sound of blood squirting from the vampire's veins was followed by the wet thud of the leg tumbling and rolling off the roof, which was also followed by the vampire's screams of pain. The vampire fell on its back and grabbed its bleeding stump, its other leg kicking and thrashing. The large one scowled and roared. It snapped his arm out as quickly as a viper, and grabbed Fin by his collar. The vampire held him high up into the air then threw him crashing down through the roof. Fin rocketed towards the ground and landed on his back, a table breaking his fall. Bits of ceiling fell on Fin, partially covering him from the moonlight that shone upon him. He had lost his sword, couldn't feel his right arm, and felt the blackness of fatigue seeping into his mind.

Fin struggled to keep his grip on consciousness. He tried to concentrate and focus on something in the room, but it seemed to spin in a confusing rush of nausea. He was afraid he would vomit, but soon realized that he lacked the strength to gag up the bitter tasting sludge. Fin was barely able to see the figure loom above him. He felt something on his leg, and felt the ground underneath him shift. He was being dragged out of the house. Fin could hear the horrible laughs again. They were like a group of young boys cheering on their biggest for throwing a stone at a bird and killing it. Fin found the strength to vomit. The laughs became louder, and faster. And jolts of pain shot through his body where the demons were kicking him. The end seemed all to near. The air was cool now, and Fin could see by the luminescence of the moon that they were outside, and back in the Town Square. Fin's eyes finally began to focus again, and he saw the hellish grin of one his enemies. It was the imposing beast, the seven-foot giant among men. A large, red, and dry tongue pushed through the vampire's teeth. The vampire drew nearer and the disgusting appendage scraped against Fin's neck like an old, dried out slug.

"Now, I am thirsty. I think I'll pop open a fresh red." The vampire said in a low, heavy, husky tone. "This may hurt a little, but probably it'll hurt a lot."

The vampire arched his back up, getting ready for the final plunge, when its forehead exploded in a rain of brain and gore. The rest of the body shriveled and smoldered like a rotten apple set on fire then stamped out. Within the fragile skull lied a large bolt of a crossbow. Fin looked beyond the body, and saw standing thirty yards away his longtime friend Delano, dropping his crossbow and then reaching inside his long cloak. He pulled out two slim, three-foot long daggers, with ten-inch hilts. It was now Fin's turn to smile. He already felt safe. Contrary to Delano's usual, jovial demeanor, a set, grim expression rested on his face. The vampires were still in shock, and were very much surprised by this turn of events.

Delano took the two daggers, and began twisting them together at the hilts, and soon he possessed a very deadly looking stave. As always, Delano was dressed for the occasion, sporting a forest green tunic, studded with bits of half-plate. His pants were of baggy black leather, and a gray wool cloak covered the most part of his body. Delano shook the hood off his head, and stared at the monsters with blazing hazel eyes.

He said with a calm and confident voice, "I think you've been paying a bit too much attention to my friend. I'm starting to feel neglected. That makes me angry." Delano still had his quirky sense of humor.

The remaining six Kindred formed a phalanx with the vampire in purple in the middle. One had in its hand Holy Fire, its possession of the sacred weapon an intolerable blasphemy. They were all wearing expressions of fanatics, even the one that was missing a single leg, who was leaned up on the shoulder of another. The vampire in purple gritted its teeth, and started to growl. It was a low, guttural, and bubbly growl. It sounded as if the vampire's blood was swelling and boiling inside of it. Suddenly, the vampire thrust its hand into its own mouth, and when he pulled it out, it was coated in blackish-red, vile smelling, syrupy blood. It then stuck its bloody talon into the wounded vampire, and the wounded vampire through its head back and let out a cry that would cow a banshee. The moist stump of the wounded vampire began to throb and spasm. A red mist started to lift off the stub. Then the appendage grew. A new block of flesh started to protrude from the wound, and a small foot began to form at the base. Within seconds, the vampire had a new, and as healthy a leg that an un-dead beast could have.

"Delano," Fin rasped through his battered lungs, "he's a blood mage. Look out."

Delano never broke his stare with the leader. "Don't worry friend. This'll be over soon."

The vampire mage broke in, "You are right, this will be over quite shortly. We have other things to do."

"Well then," Delano said winking, "let's tussle."

Delano took off, headed straight for the band of evil that had but one immediate goal: to kill him. After pausing for a second, the entire pack set itself upon Delano, save the blood mage that held its ground. Right off the bat, one vampire leapt into the air, its arms outstretched, and legs tucked in, like some sort of ghastly panther. In mid-stride, Delano planted one of the stave's points into the vampire's stomach, and pushed it to the ground. Delano kept running, and cart wheeled over the downed vampire, his blade still in its stomach. Upon landing, Delano snapped his stave back to his front, bits of the vampire flying off the edge, and he spun around, bringing the sharp edge down into the waist of another vampire. The blade cut halfway into the midsection of the vampire, and it screamed shrilly. Delano twisted and spun again, bringing the other blade into the uncut side of the vampire, completing the slice. The top half of the Child of Cain fell forward, and the lower half fell back and both halves burned and crumpled into nothing more than ancient dust. Another vampire grabbed onto the hand grip, and twisted its arm around it, bringing itself close to Delano, and making it impossible for him to use the stave. The vampire made two quick jabs into Delano's face, then hoisted the stave high up with Delano still holding on. While in mid-air, Delano kicked out at the vampire, and struck him in the nose. The vampire didn't let go. Instead, he slammed Delano down on his back. Delano half grunted, half yelled as he hit the ground, and the offending vampire threw itself onto Delano's chest, trying to crush his windpipe with the long hilt. Delano roared as beams of light shot from his hands and knocked the vampire back onto its feet, the stave flying to the side. Delano continued to unleash the line of white light onto the vampire, its flesh burning and crackling. The vampire yelled and covered its head, allowing its back to take the brunt of the damage. Before Delano could react, another vampire kicked him in the stomach, and brought both fists crashing down on his head. The other one still standing brought his foot high in the air, and sent it down in an axe-kick. Delano rolled away, grabbing the stave as he returned to his feet. The previously impaled vampire had risen, and so had the burned one and all started to advance on the hurt and out of breath Delano.

The burned vampire suddenly exploded. The loud timpani boom sent searing entrails and bones flying all over the place. As soon as they hit the ground, they started to dissolve. Everyone stared at the singed ground where the vampire had a few moments before been standing. Then all eyes went to Fin, who was standing on his own two feet, his right arm extended, and fingers spread wide.

Delano used the distraction to its fullest potential. He lunged at the back of one of the three remaining vampires, and with his trusty stave, perforated its grayish blue skin. The point went through bone, muscle, and tissue, straight to the other side, carrying the demon's heart with it. The vampire gagged and choked while its skin peeled and slid off its body. The uninjured of the two remaining beasts turned around, but not quick enough to see Delano's face as he chopped of its head. The head popped into the air, with a surprised expression on its face. The expression didn't last long for it burned away within moments, and the empty, frail skull fell and broke upon the ashes of its own corpse. The last minion stood facing Delano, its hand on its stomach trying to stop the bleeding. Delano twisted his stave and jinked it back and forth while thrusting. The vampire retreated a step or two, staying out of the stave's fatal reach. But before Delano could slay the beast, a figure came sailing through the air and crashed into Delano. Delano was sent sprawling and the figure tumbled and rolled along with him. When he had finally stopped moving, he looked at the figure and saw Fin's battered face. His eyes were swollen shut, and blood dribbled from his mouth and nose. He could barely partake of life giving air with his clenched mouth and broken ribs. Bruises and cuts were evident on his body where clothing didn't cover, either from design or rips in the fabric.

"Fin! Speak! Can you hear me?" Delano's concern had almost fallen to hopeless anxiety. Fin could only gurgle in reply, and his right eye, puffed out as it was, twitched a little. "The bastard! The heaven-scorned bastard!" Delano's eyes filled with rage. The mage had thrown the beleaguered Fin at him. Delano laid Fin on his side, and then jumped to his feet, his stave at the ready. The wounded vampire charged at Delano and Delano reacted in the same. Delano didn't even bother making eye contact with the insect, just snapped his stave around and be-headed the monster without giving it a second look. Delano dropped his stave and reached inside his tunic and withdrew a knife. Delano hopped into a running somersault and discharged the knife. It sped upon its way, and found itself buried within the chest of the unholy mage with a wet thud. The mage grunted, took a step back, grabbed the knife, plucked it out, and tossed it on the ground.

"Hmm, a little bit lower and to the left, and I may have had something to worry about. Well my dear sir…" the mage sighed to Delano. "Time to die." The mage struck its hands to its side then started that horrible groaning gurgle again. Delano stood transfixed, he didn't want to see what the demon would do, but he dared not look away. The mage's skin rippled, and its moan got louder and louder. Its joints enlarged and swelled, and its moan strengthened into a call. Its eyes seem to coat in blood, its hands grew bigger and sharper, all while its voice grew to a yell. It threw its arms into the air, and its body shook, as it seemed to pupate into another being. The hair on its head was shock-white, its muscles huge and brawny, its nails now jagged talons, and its fangs of grotesque proportion. And that awful, disgusting, stomach-churning scream had evolved into a roar like that of a wild berserker. It stood nine feet tall, and was as thick as a sycamore. It truly was Hell on two legs.

Delano turned on his heels and ran. He had almost reached his stave when a blow from the hulking Fiend detonated on his back, and sent him sliding on his knees, then face. Delano rolled up to his feet and dashed for a nearby alley. He barely escaped the grasping claws of the Fiend, and ran to the middle of the alley. The Fiend tried to squeeze inside the alley, but its massive girth was too much for the narrow passage. The Fiend snarled in frustration, and then disappeared form Delano's vision. Delano could still hear it tramping around, its mammoth feet crushing the earth and cobblestone beneath it. Then all was silent. Delano tried hard to detect the Fiend, but it made no sound. The inability to detect such a being disturbed and scared Delano. Where could it be? His hackles were raised, and he couldn't think straight. Never before had he encountered such an abomination, and he wasn't sure how to react. Every plan he thought of seemed to give way to the image of the stinking creature leaping from nowhere to consume his soul. His contemplation was broken however, when one of the walls exploded in a shower of dust and rock. The Fiend had stealthily entered a home, and busted through a wall. Delano ran from his cranny, in the opposite direction from whence he came, and the Fiend once again disappeared from sight. Delano ran through the town streets, and found himself at a house with a destroyed front. He wouldn't have stopped, but something was glinting in the moonlight, (Great Gods, the night was still upon him) and caught his eye. It was a sword. It had a strong hilt, and looked to be newly made. One of its edges was serrated, giving it an air of severity and effectiveness. He quickly snatched up the sword, and the image of Fin's battered face reappeared in Delano's mind. Delano gnashed his teeth and set out to return to the square.

Delano weaved in and out of the streets and arcades of the town, and eventually found the town square again. The deceptive tranquility had also found its way back to the Town Square. Delano paused, sword in hand, and let out a quick shudder. He was having a premonition of something dreadful, and it would be happening soon. Delano saw something move out of the corner of his eye, and he brought his sword to attention. It was Fin. He was again trying to regain his feet, but he could barely control his bowel functions, much less his footing. Delano ran to meet his friend, picking up his stave on the way.

"Great gods, Fin. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?" Delano took Fin gently by his shoulders, and leaned him back against the village well.

"I, was, was, doing what was, was, right." Fin was barely coherent. "I have to finish. I've got to, to, I, I…"

"Quiet you dork. Save your strength. At this point, I don't think it matters why you're here. You are," Delano tried to comfort his stricken ally, "and so am I."

"How did you, you were supposed to…"

"What, be here in a few days? After seeing the trail of bodies and burned homesteads, I turned up the pace, and with a little mystic help from Orten's teleportation skills."

"The garrison…"

"It'll be here in roughly a day and a half. I don't think they'll be in time to help us finish this."


"Oh right," Delano stood up and put the sword in Fin's hands, and gripped his own stave. "There's one last, very nasty, extremely vicious loose end to castrate."

"The vampire in purple…"

"Well, sort of. Just hold onto the that sword, Fin."

"Holy Fire." Fin wheezed. He seemed relieved as soon as he recognized what he was holding.

"Eh, hilly what? Damn, no matter." Delano stopped talking and stared. Slowly, almost casually, the Fiend came into view. It strolled out of a street, and started walking towards the two. Delano held his stave out at struck an aggressive stance. The Fiend still didn't change its pace. It slowly walked closer, its face a grim approximation of a smile. Perspiration started to appear on Delano's temples. It trickled slowly down his cheek and jaw. The drip of salty water limped its way down his neck, then was swiped away by Delano as he muttered an oath. Delano blinked and refocused on the creature, flexed his entire body, relaxed, then took his fighter's stance again. The tension was thick and tangible in the air. It seemed to be a humid press of emotion trying to smother him, and push him into the ground. The cursed Fiend still did not slow down or quicken. The steady motion was almost hypnotic. The wait was maddening! If only someone would make a decisive move.

The Fiend was upon them. In the space of two seconds, the Fiend seemed to disappear then reappear at their faces. The Fiend sprang at Delano, its massive fist moving in a backhand swipe. Delano tried to move out of the way, but couldn't escape its reach. The fist caught Delano in the gut, and all of his air rushed out of his lungs. Delano's stomach wrenched, and he could feel a warm wetness in his midsection. On instinct, Delano twisted his arms and brought one of his blades sinking into the Fiends arm. It seemed not to notice. Blood spat out of the wound as the Fiend flexed his arm and spread his talons into Delano's stomach. Delano screamed with pain, and instinctively stuck his sharp stave into the face of the fiend. The point went past the Fiend's nose, and bored its way into the Fiend's eye. The eye popped like a grape and the fluid within sprayed out at Delano. Delano kept on pushing, and he could hear a mushy tearing and ripping as the blade grinded further and further still into the Fiend's head. The Fiend started to make odd clicking sounds, and started to twitch. Delano's whole world seemed to be turning red, and he could barely hear Fin's cry.

"DEL!" Fin stood, lifted his sword high into the air, reaching to the heavens, then struck like a godly lightning bolt, smiting the foul blight that was the Fiend. Holy Fire lived up to its name, for once it pierced the heart of the Fiend, a white flame engulfed the being of evil. The flame seemed to give no heat; Delano was unburned, yet the Fiend was totally incinerated. Then Delano's red hazed world fell black.


Fin opened his eyes, and immediately shut them tight again. The brightness of the sun was a welcome, yet painful sight. As Fin tried to remember what happened last night, his thoughts turned to Delano.

"Del. Where's Del? Where is he?"

"Don't try to move to much child." Fin recognized the old man's voice. "Your injuries are many, and severe."

Fin shook his head in frustration. "No! Where's Del? Where's my friend! Where is he? Where?" Fin's voice was a tinged with anger and fear.

"He is right next to you," the old man said.

"Is he okay?" Fin craned his neck to the side and saw Delano. His comrade's pallor was deathly pale. Fin's voice was trembling. "Will he live?"

The old man remained silent for a few seconds. "I don't know. Just rest for now."