Chapter Eighty-Four: The Carnage Below

  The wind howled through the trees, its mournful wail swallowed by the wet squelch of footsteps from the approaching horrors. The moon above cast a sickly light, bleeding through the twisted canopy, illuminating the grotesque figures that lurched into view. Their limbs hung at unnatural angles, twisted and broken as though something had forced them to keep moving long after they should have fallen apart.

  “I’ve seen this before,” Jace whispered, voice low, like the air itself was too afraid to carry his words. His eyes locked on them, grotesque parodies of human life, their flesh sagging, draped over bones too long, too sharp. “Sophie... she wasn’t as far gone.” His voice cracked, the memory clawing at him as he clenched his fists.

  The creatures dragged themselves closer, jewelry—once beautiful, now tarnished and dripping with gore—caught the pale light, sending ghostly shadows dancing across their misshapen faces. Eyes, or what was left of them, glowed faintly, empty sockets staring into the abyss, or maybe through it. The smell of rot hit them first, thick and cloying, like meat left out too long in the sun.

  Dex’s words trembled, a nervous laugh bubbling out like the last gasp of sanity. “Any tips for not dying?” His hands tightened around the hilts of his daggers, as his voice betrayed him, the fear creeping in.

  “Keep them off me. I need to try something.” Jace’s words came out with a deadly calm, his fingers twitching, feeling the pulse of Soul Sense stir inside him, like waking up a beast that shouldn’t be touched. “There’s a chance someone’s still in there.”

  The creatures lunged, and the world exploded into chaos.

  Dex was a blur, his body moving faster than the eye could follow. He spun, slashing wide, the sound of metal cutting through flesh, mixing with the wet splatter of blood on the dirt. The beasts shrieked, a high-pitched wail that scraped at the inside of their skulls, like nails on a chalkboard. Dex danced through the carnage. His grin twisted, like he wasn’t sure whether he was still fighting or running for his life.

  Ell shimmered in and out of existence, her form slipping through the onslaught, like smoke through fingers. One second she was there, the next she was gone, her blade flicking out of the shadows to slice through exposed spines. The crunch of bone under steel made Jace’s stomach lurch, but he couldn’t look away. Blood sprayed, painting her ethereal form in crimson, but she moved on, a ghost among the dead.

  Alice’s hands crackled with power, her lips moving in a low hum as she called on her magic. The ground beneath the beast rippled, the earth itself writhing and alive, and dragged the creature down into its depths. It shrieked, limbs flailing, but Alice’s spell held it fast, burying it alive as the ground closed over it with a hollow moan.

  Jace’s heart raced. He could feel the tangled mess of soul energy wrapped around the creatures like barbed wire, ripping through the fabric of whatever was left of their humanity. His breath came in ragged gasps as he reached out, Soul Tether snapping to life with a visceral jolt. The connection hit hard—empty, wrong, like staring into the void and finding it staring back.

  There was nothing. No one was left inside.

  The largest beast lunged at him, its claws slicing through the air. Jace flickered out of existence, reappearing just in time to see its clawed hand swipe through where his head had been moments before. His sword flashed, cutting deep into its side, but the wound only seemed to anger it. It howled, turning on him with a savage snarl, its eyes burning with the madness of a thing long dead but not yet finished.

  Pain exploded through Jace’s ribs as the creature’s claws found purchase, tearing into flesh and muscle. He gritted his teeth, biting back a scream as blood poured from the wound. The Word of Power surged through him, cold and searing at once, mending flesh even as the creature struck again.

  “Jace!” Dex’s voice cut through the chaos, his face slick with blood, eyes wild with adrenaline. “If you’ve got a plan, now’s the time!”

  Jace focused everything he had on the Soul Severance. The connection between the creatures and whatever dark force bound them together buckled under his will. His vision blurred as he pushed harder, forcing the thread to snap.

  And then, with a breath of surrender, the tenuous thread binding the demon to the husk of its human shell snapped. Jace felt it, a sigh leaving the world, a moment of fragile release. But the outcome was not what he had hoped for, not what he had dared to believe might happen.

  The creature staggered, its form quivering as if caught between worlds—but only for a heartbeat. Then, with an audible crackle, its skin began to peel away, curling back like paper scorched at the edges. A hollow ache settled into Jace’s gut as he watched, realizing the truth. The human soul had long since fled, and what remained was a grotesque parody of flesh, held together only by the demon’s twisted purpose.

  Jace’s mind raced, the terrible realization taking shape. Perhaps this was why Ponos had chosen Sophie for the ritual—perhaps the demons needed something more, a final shove, to fully sever what was human and step entirely into their monstrous form. A chrysalis needing to split, leaving behind all that was mortal, and emerge as something that was only hunger and hate.

  Jace’s chest tightened, a cold knot forming as he stared at the peeling skin. He hadn’t freed the host; he had only pushed the demon closer to what it wanted to become.

  Jace’s stomach twisted as the flesh sloughed off the creatures in thick, wet chunks, revealing what lay beneath—twisted bones and sinew, blackened and rotted, eyes that glowed with a hellish fire. What had been human was now something far worse, something that had been rotting in the dark, waiting for the moment it could crawl out and feed.

  “I think I made it worse,” Jace whispered, barely more than a rasp. Horror clenched his chest, an icy hand wrapping around his lungs.

  Ell’s voice was sharp, cutting through the rising panic. “Are we still staying non-lethal, Jace?”

  “There’s no one left.” His words came out low, seething with raw fury. “Kill them all.”

  The creatures howled in unison, a sound that rumbled through the earth, shaking the trees. They surged forward, faster now, more desperate, their hunger palpable. Jace felt it clawing at his mind, dragging him down into their madness. But his Word of Power was a burning flame in the pit of his soul, and he used it to fight back.

  He Soul Stepped again, his sword driving deep into the exposed bones of a creature. Blood—thick, dark, and rancid—sprayed across his face, but he barely noticed. His Soul Affinity hummed in his veins, guiding his strikes with precision. His blade was a blur, cutting through flesh and bone as if it were nothing. But the creatures kept coming.

  Ell moved beside him, her blade flashing through the moonlight as she drove it through the neck of another beast. The creature convulsed, blood pouring from its severed spine.

  Jace’s muscles screamed, each breath ragged and hot, but he pushed forward. His Affinity pulled him through the pain, through the madness, guiding his hand as his sword cleaved through another twisted form. His chest ached, the wound from earlier still bleeding, but he healed as fast as he was hurt, stitching him back together even as the creatures tore him apart.

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  A creature lunged, its jaws snapping at his throat. Jace flickered, disappearing just in time to reappear behind it, driving his blade into its back with a sickening crunch. The creature’s body spasmed, its death rattle, a howl of a thousand screams.

  But still, they came.

  Finally, after what felt like hours, the last creature fell, its body collapsing with a final, wet thud. The clearing was silent, save for the rasp of their breath and the thick drip of blood onto the earth.

  Jace stood at the center of it all, soaked in blood, trembling from the aftermath of the fight. The power that had driven him was fading, leaving behind only exhaustion and a bitter taste in his mouth.

  Above him, the stars stared down, cold and uncaring, as if scorning the carnage below.

  They stared at the bodies of the monsters, now twitching, grotesquely contorting as they returned to something resembling human form. The sickening sound of bones snapping and grinding echoed in the silence, like dry branches breaking underfoot. Flesh that had stretched beyond its limits began to sag, deflating like overfilled balloons as it shriveled back into place.

  One of the bodies—once a towering, monstrous brute—lay collapsed in a heap of wet, glistening muscle and skin. Its jaw, previously distended with rows of sharp, jagged teeth, snapped forward with a horrifying crunch, leaving a mouth frozen in a grotesque scream. Pieces of skin, like torn fabric, hung loosely from its face, some still clinging to the raw muscle beneath, while others sloughed off, landing with soft, wet thuds on the blood-soaked ground.

  Another body twitched violently, its limbs jerking in sharp, erratic spasms as the twisted form fought to return to its once-human state. The eyes—once glowing with an unnatural, hellish light—now flickered weakly, fading into dull, lifeless orbs. Blood oozed from its cracked lips, mingling with the thick, black bile that still dripped from its throat. The hands, once vicious claws that had ripped through flesh like parchment, trembled and curled inward, now just limp, broken fingers covered in shredded tendons and peeling skin.

  Each terrible figure had a brass item somewhere on its body, shining with an uncanny brightness. Against the grime and filth clinging to their skin, the brass stood out—spotless, polished, untouched by dirt or blood. Even the foulness that seemed to soak into everything around them left the brass pristine, almost mocking the decay it was surrounded by. The metal gleamed, a perfect, unblemished shine amid the muck, defying the dirt and filth that seemed to consume everything else.

  The stench hit him first, a foul mixture of rot and decay, thick and suffocating, as though the bodies were rotting away on the spot. Flies circled, buzzing in frantic, greedy swarms, drawn to the gore—settling on exposed muscle and torn flesh, feasting without pause.

  Jace’s breath hitched, heart lodging in his throat as he stumbled upon the one body that shouldn’t have been there.

  “No,” he whispered, voice catching as he stared down at the familiar form. Damon. His mind reeled, trying to make sense of it. “What happened to you?” His words barely audible, crushed beneath a silent vice.

  Damon’s body lay twisted and lifeless, half-concealed beneath the wreckage of battle, his once-vibrant energy snuffed out, a candle in the wind. Jace swallowed hard, forcing bile back down his throat. His friend must have come looking for clues, hunting for answers in a place that held none. But why? How had he ended up here—like this? The question clawed at Jace’s mind, relentless, but no answer came. He wore a brass necklace, a thick chain of smooth links that shone far too brightly. A small pendant hung from the center, etched with simple swirling lines. The brass looked new, though Jace was learning better.

  Jace took a shaky step forward, his boots sinking into the blood-soaked earth. His eyes were drawn to the last creature still twitching in its death throes. It let out a final gurgle, a grotesque rattle from deep within its chest, then fell still. What was left of its face—if it could even be called that—was little more than a jagged, hollow cavity where its skull had been shattered. Bone fragments jutted out at impossible angles, and bits of brain matter splattered the ground like discarded refuse.

  The scene was wrong in every way, twisted beyond recognition. And yet, all Jace could do was stare at Damon’s broken body, a raw ache building in his chest.

  Why were you here, Damon? Did you find something about Sophie, about Ponos?

  Whatever humanity had been left in him was now gone, buried beneath ruined flesh and shattered bones. Jace reached out, his fingers brushing against the brass necklace. The instant he made contact, a vision burned into his mind—a monstrous form, twisted and grotesque, much like the creatures before him. But there was something else, something darker, looming behind it. A shadow, a presence that seemed to lurk just out of sight, a figure hidden in the dark.

  Despair swept over him, a bitter wave that left him breathless. The world around him crumbled, and in its place, he saw his foster parents, their faces blank, empty eyes staring at him without a flicker of warmth. He saw his brother, standing just as hollow, his gaze heavy with disappointment. A pang of grief, fierce and cold, pierced Jace’s heart.

  No. This isn’t real, he thought, shaking himself, trying to hold on to what was solid. He felt the darkness reaching into him, trying to crawl into his mind, into his very soul. It crept forward, like ice in his veins, until suddenly, it was pushed back. Jace’s Mostly Dead boon flared to life, a shield between him and the encroaching darkness.

  The force shattered, recoiling violently, and in that brief, electric moment, Jace caught a glimpse of what lay beneath it all—a face in the shadows, one he knew too well. The umbral form of the Dark One. He staggered back, his breath catching as he stepped away from Damon’s body.

  “These poor people,” Alice whispered. Her gaze lingered on the still forms, her eyes filled with something deeper than pity. Her voice was unnervingly calm, too measured for someone who had just witnessed so much death.

  Ell knelt beside one of the fallen, her fingers lightly brushing the hilt of a sword stained a dark crimson. She looked at the blood on her hands. The tears came then, silently at first, then streaming down her face, glistening in the dim light.

  Dex hesitated, his fingers hovering mid-air before slowly retracting. He looked over at Ell, her face crumpled with grief, and his bravado melted away. He stepped closer, his expression softening. “Ell...” he murmured.

  She shook her head quickly, trying to wipe the tears away, her voice tight. “I’m fine.” Dex ignored her protest, wrapping his arms around her. She tensed, trying to push him away, but he held on tighter. “I’m fine,” she said again, her voice cracking, repeating it like a mantra.

  They stayed there, silent in each other’s presence, until finally, the tears slowed, then stopped. Dex loosened his grip, giving her space, his own eyes red-rimmed from tears. He nodded, letting her go.

  “You know,” Dex said, his voice barely above a whisper, “you don’t have to be so tough all the time.”

  Ell glanced at him and, without hesitation, punched him hard in the arm. “I’m tougher than you,” she said, her voice steadier now, a spark of her usual fire returning.

  Dex raised his hands in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of disputing it.”

  A brief moment of levity passed between them before Ell’s gaze shifted back to the corpses. Her body stiffened, her shoulders squaring once more as the reality of the scene returned.

  Alice hadn’t smiled or looked their way during the exchange. Her eyes were fixed on the smallest of the bodies—the youngest. The one that must have been the postman’s assistant. She crouched next to him. Her face was pale, her eyes unreadable, as she stared at the fallen, her thoughts elsewhere.

  “The jewelry,” she said, her brow furrowing. “It doesn’t feel right. My senses blur around them, like they’re cloaked in illusion. We need to gather what we can and get back to the University.” She rose, her hands tightening into fists, her expression resolute, though Jace caught the glisten of tears threatening to fall.

  As Dex reached for a brass bracelet on a creature, Jace grabbed his arm just as his fingers hovered inches away.

  “Don’t touch them,” Jace snapped, gripping Dex’s arm firmly. “They’re cursed. This is what Ponos had on him when he... when Sophie died.”

  Alice stepped forward, pulling a pair of alchemical gloves from her inventory. “Here, use these,” she said, tossing them to Dex. “Silver Rank gloves. They should protect you.”

  Dex caught them, turning them over, a brow raised. “Why do you even have these?” Jace asked, glancing between Alice and the gloves. “And wait, there are gloves specifically for this?”

  Alice gave him a look like he’d just asked if water was wet. “Of course. Anything above a Bronze potion needs proper handling. You knew that, right? Please tell me you knew that.”

  Jace nodded quickly. “Of course, absolutely.”

  With the gloves on, they gathered the items, removing the brass pieces from the bodies and dropping them into a cloth leather sack Dex took from his inventory.

  Dex grimaced as the cursed jewelry clinked inside. “This bag’s basically ruined now. Wasn’t cheap, you know.”

  They ignored him. When the last piece was collected, Ell stood and brushed her hands off. “We should get moving. We’re done here.”

  “Not quite,” Jace said, adjusting the weight of his sword across his back. “Before we go, I want to hear what Marcus has to say about bailing on us during the fight.”