 
# Contents

Copyright

Novel Philosophy

Seeds of Corruption

Memories

Humanity's Haven

Getting Acquainted

Welcome Home

Bloody Mary

Trials of the Heart

Vampire Nest

Ambush

Dead Men Walking

The Gathering Part 1

The Gathering Part 2

The Uprising

The Many Faces of Battle

The Right Flank

The Centre

The Final Confrontation

Epilogue

Acknowledgements and Contact

# Copyright

The Grey Templars: Humanity's Haven

By Anthony Condos

Copyright 2016 Anthony Condos

Smashwords Edition.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

#  Novel Philosophy

I am the punishment of God... If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you... _Genghis_ _Khan_
CHAPTER 1

# Seeds of Corruption

...SUBJECT: Possible heretical takeover...

...TARGET: St Andrews Cathedral, Bishop Laris presiding...

...Grey Templar Unit enroute...

...Unit arrived at destination at 06:00 hours...

...Officer in charge Templar Captain Donis...

_VOICE_ _1:_ "Having sighted target, sir!"

_VOICE_ _2:_ "Any signs of activity, enemy or friendly?"

_V_ _OICE_ _1:_ "Neither, sir! Not even parishioners, sir."

_VOICE_ _2:_ "...Alright, men, we're going in."

The large entrance doors to the cathedral loomed ahead of the five armoured figures in the morning twilight. Templar Captain Donis ordered his men forward, "Pistols ready and keep a sharp eye."

He pointed two fingers at his eyes then his index finger at his chest as a signal for them to cover him as he stepped forward. He cautiously attempted to open the doors to no avail. Even when he used his superhuman strength, it did not budge. Seeing his plight, his men moved to help, but he pushed himself away from the door, waving them back. They watched as he took one deep breath and commanded them to cover him.

They all watched in amazement as he spun and charged his heavily armoured shoulder guard into the difficult doors. Hitting with the power of a charging bull and encased in armour strong as a tank, he burst through the entrance, shattering both doors in his wake. He tumbled into a crouch position, with his pistol out and level with the ground, his men automatically at the ready behind him...

The cathedral was empty and void of any common sound. However, their keen sense of smell could detect a rotten stench, as they walked further into the cathedral. This was an uncommon pungency that could only be decay, filth and detritis.

"Looks like no one has been caring for the place in a while!" noted Templar Pellos.

However, the troops also sensed something else...the unmistakable pall of death, but there were no bodies to go with it.

Taking in the scene before them, they saw an altar at the front of the room with a door on either side. Rows of pews led up to the altar, behind which, in the corner of the room, was a birdcage-shaped object. It was covered by some sort of felt material. Judging it to be of no importance, they moved toward the door on the left.

After a signal from Donis, Templar Brackis kicked the door open; it was empty except for another door on the right. Standing in front of it, Donis nodded to Templar Pellos, who with a wide grin aimed a low kick at the door.

The grin disappeared as his foot punched a hole the size of a man's head through the door. Donis rolled his eyes and smirked as realisation set in. He punched his hand through the door, grabbed the locking mechanism and wrenched it out. The doors swung open slowly toward them. Inside were nine finely handcrafted relics.

Templar Rictus teased Pellos, "Usually you kick open a door that opens outward not inward!" Pellos' reply was short, rude and rather dexterous in nature. Donis chuckled at their childishness. Then deciding there was nothing else of interest in the room, he cut the jokes short.

"Alright, that's enough, ladies, next room." Without another word, they re-entered the altar room and continued through the door on the right side of the altar. Again, this room was empty except for a small pool of holy water.

"Doesn't make sense, where is everyone?" asked Templar Daedelis in a frustrated tone; Donis couldn't blame him.

They all spun around, as their superior hearing picked up a sound, barely audible even to them. Stepping out of the room, it sounded like it was coming from under the altar. Donis stepped forward and rapped his knuckles against the marble altar; a solid 'tonk' emerged from it.

"Can we move it?" queried Brackis.

Calculations stormed Donis' mind; genetically modified servants of God as they were, they each had several times the strength of a silverback gorilla. But even they would struggle to move the altar. Even if they did manage to move it, they would exhaust a lot of energy in doing so; Energy they might need for any hidden foes that might linger below...

No, he thought, there has to be some way of getting down there. From the corner of his eye, he spied the stand with the felt-covered birdcage object on top of it. Its position in the corner of the room is the reason why he dismissed it earlier. Stepping over to it, he removed the felt cover. Inside the hollowed-out object was a base with a peculiar shape imprinted deeply into it. Rictus seeing it over his shoulder said, "Looks like something is supposed to fit in there."

Raising an eyebrow in amusement, he turned away, "Daedelis!" Donis called. "Sir?" was the Templar's reply from the other side of the room.

"Retrieve those relics for me," a few moments later, he appeared with all nine in his arms. "Thank you," said Donis.

The first relic didn't fit nor did the second, but the third slotted in perfectly. As Donis twisted the relic, it rotated. After it reached about a 180 angle, a rumbling sound could be heard from behind. He saw as he turned around the marble splitting into sections and lowering down into the ground to form a flight of steps descending into the dark.

Peering down, Donis heard Brackis mutter, "Doesn't look like what's in your average cathedral these days."

Donis looked at his men and nodded; Brackis pulled out his flame blaster; Rictus connected ammunition feed chain to his large automatic machine gun, which resembled a shorter version of a mini-gun clipped onto the underside of his gauntlet. Daedelis and Pellos both kept their pistols on hand, while Donis ratcheted his bolt launcher, an advanced version of a crossbow, thinking it might come in handy for a silent kill, due to its special ammunition, which delivers a powerful electric charge capable of killing a man easily. Weapons ready, they descended the stairs.

Walking down into a narrow corridor illuminated by an occasional lantern on the wall, again they heard the sound from before but louder now. Donis' acute hearing heard another closer sound, muttered speech coming from around the corner ahead of them. Signaling for a halt, he walked forward slowly, his back against the lichen-covered stones of the walls. Reaching the corner, he peered around it. Ten metres up were three guards standing in front of a door, wearing cloaks with the cowls pulled down, holding automatic rifles. "Cultists," he muttered after taking in their regalia. The centre cultist was talking aloud.

"Oh man, last night was one in a million! Boy did that girl know how to scream," with the other two egging him on, he continued to explain the rape and torture of his victim. Feeling revulsion at some of the acts committed, Donis was relieved when he saw what he was waiting for. Both men on either side were patting the centre cultist on the shoulder in approval.

Donis smiled wickedly as he quickly stepped into the open, raised his weapon and fired. He took great pleasure in seeing that the centre man's shocked look froze on his face, as the bolt flew straight into the middle of his chest, killing him instantly. The other two died moments later, as the powerful electric charge passed from the dead man to them. Before their bodies had hit the ground Donis and his squad passed them and went through the door they had been guarding.

As they continued down another corridor, an overwhelming stench hit them; fortunately for the group, the auto filters in their facemasks kicked in. They stopped as the corridor opened up into a larger room. All five of them felt a deep revulsion at what they saw. The bodies of monks and priests hung from the ceiling, mutilated, skinned and some with limbs missing. Large pools of coagulated blood had formed on the floor underneath the bodies. They heard chanting coming from a door up ahead, which they recognised as the sound heard earlier upstairs.

Standing in front of the door, Donis looked to his men who nodded they were ready. Putting away his bolt launcher, he drew back his fist and struck. The door flew open and partly shattered. As they moved in, they heard the booming sound of a large beam of wood, which had been attached to brackets on the back of the door as it bounced to the ground.

As they stepped into the hall, the chanting stopped as the fifteen cultists standing in a semicircle turned to look at them.

"Oh, I do hate interruptions!" announced an inhuman voice, which sounded more amused than annoyed at their interruption. The cultists parted and what strode forward from the centre of the assemblage was a creature that could only be called a demon. Two human-looking feet, large talons extending from them, joined to two goat like legs. The torso and arms also resembled a human's, but the head looked like a goat skull with brownish skin, stretched tightly over it. The eyes that stared at them were merely black, lifeless orbs.

Donis stepped forward, "By orders of the holy church and the Grey Templar order, we are here to retrieve Bishop Laris; tell us where you hold him, demon."

"My name is Lo-an-Gorg, as for your Bishop, he is in the safest place possible!" the demon responded full of mirth as it touched its chest, drawing their attention to the scraps of clothing on its body. They resembled the vestments a bishop would wear.

Donis' eyes narrowed as he asked the already answered question, "You possessed him?"

"Yes!" it said. With a laugh it added, "A worthy gift for a worthy servant."

Donis' eyes burned with rage, as the full meaning of the demon's words hit him. The bishop had betrayed them, those poor monks and priests who had trusted him, and their reward was a horrible death. With as much control as he could muster in his enraged state he shouted, "Then prepare to die, foul traitor! Templars advance!" And with that command, they moved forward.

The cultists charged bearing rifles, knives and other assorted weaponry. Brackis fired his weapon into the advancing men, the foremost who was hit and screamed as his flesh melted. After the impact, the screaming only stopped as the white of bone could be seen. Moments later, all that was left was a puddle of ooze. Two more cultists fell as the large-calibre bullets of Rictus' heavy weapon blew massive holes through their bodies.

As bullets pinged off the Templars' armoured bodies, the fight came to close combat as Pellos unsheathed two mantis-like short swords. Like a speeding cheetah, he charged. Leaping through the air, he landed his heavy form onto a cultist and bore him to the ground. Even as he landed, his hands shot out, gutting the two men on either side of the fallen cultist, whom he decapitated with a scissor blow as he tried to rise.

There was an earth-shattering roar, not unlike that from a bear as Daedelis charged in, bearing two heavy military picks in his hands. As his first blow landed, the cultist it was aimed at tried to block it with his rifle. Such was the power of the blow that it cleaved through the rifle and right through the unfortunate cultist behind it. The second blow caught another in midair, cutting him in two.

Brackis vaporised another cultist before putting away his flame blaster and quickly pulling out his glaive as another attacked. Swift as a viper, he ducked into a low crouching stance, avoiding the charging cultist's knife. Such was the man's momentum that he impaled himself on the outstretched glaive.

Rictus laid about himself with heavy blows of his two-handed sword, unleashing a loud tiger like snarl as he sent two cultists' ruined bodies flying across the room.

Donis strode forward toward the demon through the carnage that his squad had caused. Before he could reach his quarry, the last three cultists intercepted him. These men stood out from the others his men had faced. Firstly, their beige robes had golden-trimmed edges and they had the look of experienced killers, scarred veterans, cold-blooded men who wouldn't hesitate to kill anybody. All three charged Donis.

It was over in a matter of seconds; one moment Donis was just walking toward them, his religious symbol-encrusted Templar sword still in its scabbard at his side. The next he exploded in movements too fast for the human eye to see; he became a blur, a shadow of his silhouette moving between the men. He came to a halt behind them, his sword in his hand now dripping with fresh blood. The three adversaries' bodies fell limply to the floor, like rag dolls, spurting fountains of blood from their copious wounds.

"Impressive! But it won't be enough to stop me!" gloated the demon as it flexed its muscle laden body, its talons gleaming in the dim lighting of the underground chamber. Donis sunk low as he prepared to leap; he bared his teeth and a low hiss came from his mouth, which changed to a roar, like a mythical dragon from one of the ancient stories, and then he attacked. Donis' men watched as they charged one another, demon to Templar, talons clashing with sword, the sound emitting from it was that of metal striking metal. They stepped back from each other and then circled one another.

The demon shot forward, the brutal swings of his arms parried by his opponent's gleaming sword, whose return sent a cut across the demon's chest. The demon unleashed a scream of pain. But the fight was far from over as it backhanded Donis off his feet. He rolled backwards and back onto his feet as soon as he hit the ground, just as his opponent landed where he previously lay.

Breathing hard while preparing for another attack, he was surprised as the demon just stood there, staring at him. It was then that he felt the pressure building inside his head.

The demon could feel Donis' mental resistance; it was like an elastic being pulled. The further it was stretched the harder the resistance against the pulling. Lo-an-Gorg was forced back slightly, but continued and the elastic continued to stretch. Looking at Donis, he saw his opponent's face sweating profusely from the effort of resisting the demon's advances. Then suddenly the fight was over, the elastic had snapped and Donis' straining face went slack.

These humans are so weak! the demon thought to itself. "Will you obey me?" he asked of his new puppet.

Donis' reply was low, almost a hiss, "Yesss."

"Are you mine now?"

Again, in a low voice came the reply, "Yesss."

"Then kill your companion!" without a reply, Donis leapt at Daedelis before anyone could react. He slapped aside one of Daedelis' military picks with his sword and snatched the other out of his fist with his free hand.

Donis stood in front of Daedelis poised to attack, a crazed look on his face, and then it happened.

Laughter, hysterical laughter, loud and full of mirth, its source...Daedelis.

Lo-an-Gorg was confused; was the human insane, laughing in the face of death? He snapped out of his shocked state, "Kill him!" he ordered to the now prone Donis, but Donis didn't move.

"Obey me and kill him!" Lo-an-Gorg screamed in frustration at his pawn's unresponsive manner. Then Donis suddenly grinned, "Not today!"

Lo-an-Gorg's shocked look from Donis' words remained on his face as he was hurled from his feet. Both military picks stuck in his chest from simultaneous throws from both Daedelis and Donis. He stood back up to find Donis facing him, sword in hand and ready. He seethed with anger; the human had tricked him so he could regain his breath. "How? How did you resist me?" he asked.

With a look of contempt on his face, Donis replied. "I'm a Captain of the Grey Templars. Did you really think your little parlour tricks would affect me, asshole?" Lo-an-Gorg trembled with rage at this insult, his black orbs burned with fire and he charged with Daedelis' weapons in his hands. Donis met his charge with one of his own.

The ensuing conflict was expedited so quickly that it could hardly be seen even by the Templars' enhanced vision. Such was the power of the blows being traded; sparks flew from their weapons as they clashed.

A large explosion of blood flew from the whirlwind of their combat and they spun away from each other, both huffing and puffing like blown-out horses. During their melee, Donis had miscalculated a parry, and the result was a huge gash in his shoulder pad, but Lo-an-Gorg's triumph was fleeting as Donis' return stroke, sheared his left arm from his body, sending it flying across the room

They were staring across at each other, both still breathing heavily. Suddenly, in a flicker of movement, Lo-an-Gorg dashed forward, his speed astonishing, the blow aimed at Donis' midsection.

Donis was tired as he had kept toe to toe in his dance with this demon. But in the end, despite his enhancements, he was only human. Especially when compared to this supernatural being of the underworld. The attack coming at him would disembowel him at the very least. Fast as it was coming, he wasn't going to get his guard down in time to stop it. He couldn't jump back or dodge to either side as his opponent would expect this and be able to compensate for it and still hit him. So he did the only thing possible to get out the way. The last thing anybody, especially the demon, expected him to do was dive over the low blow. Such was his momentum that missing his target sent Lo-an-Gorg sliding along the floor, underneath his intended victim, missing him by inches.

Donis tucked and rolled, coming to his feet, and reversed the grip he had on his sword. He spun on his heal and hurled it like a javelin. Having missed his target, Lo-an-Gorg turned to face his quarry in time for the sword to enter his throat up to the hilt. He slowly sank to his knees, blood flowing from his nose and mouth. "Fool! I cannot be killed, I am immortal!" he choked out a defiant look on his inhuman face as Donis came closer.

As Donis' hand gripped the hilt, he looked at his downed foe. Even as it spoke, its wounds started to stop bleeding; soon it would begin to heal. "I know, I know that even such a grievous wound as this won't kill you. If I was lucky, the best I could hope for is to destroy the human vessel that contains your essence. But then it would only be a matter of time before you possess another I know all of this!" he stated.

Then an evil grin played upon his face, "But it never was my intention to kill you in that exact sense. I have a worse fate planned for you!" With that said, he closed his eyes and began to chant in Latin using a low whisper. As he did this, the sword began to glow. The defiance in the demon's eyes was replaced with fear as he comprehended what Donis had proclaimed and was proceeding to do.

Lo-an-Gorg started to moan as smoke began to drift from his body. Soon his body itself started to become incandescent and turn into smoke. As it did, the blade grew brighter and another form became visible through the misty haze: the treacherous Bishop Laris. Eventually, the wraith-like form that had been Lo-an-Gorg was drawn into the sword and its blade glittered with a light too bright to look at. Then it was over; the glow was gone from the blade. The chamber was silent, and all that remained of the demon was the body of Bishop Laris lying on the floor. His chest shredded, left arm missing and a gaping wound in his throat. Looking at the corpse, none of the group felt pity. The man had been a traitor to God and would burn in hell for it.

Putting the matter from his mind, he turned to his men just as Daedelis was picking up his weapons. With a smile and a mocking tone, he said, "Dae, mind explaining what happened back there?"

Daedelis chuckled as he answered with, "Sorry, Don, but I couldn't stop laughing, you're a very bad actor! I almost pissed myself laughing, imagine the rust stain that would've left!"

Donis laughed as Rictus gasped in fake shock, "Such language from a warrior of God!" A raised middle finger let him know what Daedelis thought of it. They all burst into laughter at their childishness. After the laughter had finished, Donis said to these men who were like his brothers, "Good work, guys, now what, say we go home?" Their wide grins were all the answer he needed.

## Demon Hell

Lo-an-Gorg found himself in an alien environment; it looked to be a nexus of energies, colours of all different hues were floating around, acting as the walls of a room. Before him appeared a loathsome creature that looked as if it had been pieced together with different body parts. It was a writhing mass of arms, legs, fur, scales and tentacles. The beast also boasted several heads that all looked at him.

"Who are you?"

"I am the Collective. I am all that remains of the previous inhabitants of this place!" it replied as it moved toward him, it sounded as if several voices had spoken.

"Stay back, or prepare to fight me and die!" he said as it came closer.

With a tone that bordered on sadness, "Yes, you must as only one can exist inside this prison. But in the end, no one wins; if I win you will be added to the Collective, another voice to be heard among the many, with no control. If you win, you become the Collective...You will be the master voice that no one will hear...Yours will be the ears that hear all our pain and eternal torment...Now, no more words, now we fight!"

When outside, Donis stopped, letting his friends go on without him, looking down at his sword. "You fed well again, my friend!" he said with fondness. Donis smiled as he felt the hilt of his sword grow warm. Lo-an-Gorg was no doubt fighting for his very existence with the other inhabitant of the sword, he thought to himself. And the winner would continue to exist; if you could call living in a sword existence. The warmth died away, signaling the battle had been fought and won. However, it would be a hollow victory for the winner. It just meant that they would have to wait alone in the dark until another came and the cycle would start over again. This is the fate Donis had mentioned. It was indeed for a demon the worst fate they could endure, eternal imprisonment in a place where their powers mean nothing until their death, and being immortal makes this an eternal wait. To them it would be hell and he was glad to be the one to send them there.

He soon found himself drifting into reminiscence of the sword's past.
CHAPTER 2

# Memories

In the year 2090, man had finally taken steps into the dawn of his self-destruction. Nations of the world set upon one another, alliances were made between countries and then broken, neighbor battled with neighbor. World War III was upon them, on a scale incomparable to any other war in this world's past. It was fought by all, not against oppression or against tyranny, but for greed; led by politicians full of deceit and malice. They saw no consequences in sending men and women to die for their own purposes.

In the last stages of the war, it turned nuclear...

Small nations with no allies were decimated as examples. Finally, after more than a quarter of the world's population had perished, revolution started worldwide. Civilians tired of war, led coups all around the world and governments were overthrown, politicians were killed and those that weren't fled. The depleted military forces couldn't contain the crowds, and most deserted their units to join the people.

Now leaderless, the people wanted to know who would take charge. No one stepped forward until disaster struck. Word spread that a few countries including America, Australia and England in particular reported paranormal activities occurring. People were disappearing, there were sightings of in-human creatures and strange cults began roaming the streets at night.

The holy church stepped forward to deny these reports as rumors and hearsay. They comforted the populace by offering the leadership they craved and encouraging other religions to do the same, which they did.

The people accepted that perhaps religion could succeed where politics failed. Officially, they weren't aware of any extraordinary activities. Unofficially, the religious sect's trusted clerks were undertaking clandestine operations in order to confirm their worst fears.

At some point the denizens of hell decided that man's total lack of unity was a signal for the advancement of their domain into our world. As a result, unnatural creatures were seen roaming about at night. Some with fur, some with scales, even some with horns. The dead were starting to rise from the grave, evil necromancers leading them. Vampires creating brood nests, bolstering their numbers by making thralls out of their victims. More frightening of all were the cults, dedicated to the dark one or his minions, turning their backs on humanity.

Keeping the populace ignorant of these events was paramount to keeping panic from mounting while they organised countermeasures to combat this burgeoning hell on earth with the remaining military servicemen, mostly made up of the elite units that didn't desert.

Things were looking bleak, with the original attempts of military men forming hit teams using state-of-the-art technology weapons and armour failing. They performed a number of raids against the satanic cults, which were successful as expected considering they were only treacherous humans.

But as the hit teams came against the cultist's demonic masters, vampires and other supernatural creatures, they found their weapons in the main ineffective. Neither bullets nor steel blades could pierce their inhuman hides. If they did, it was a minor irritation for the creatures as they tore the teams of seasoned veteran soldiers apart, or at least that's what the survivors, if any, would say.

It all came to a head, on January 5th, 2091, in Sydney, Australia, at St. Mary's Cathedral. Father Rodriguez Morales was conducting his daily sermon to his usual crowded service. His quiet aid, Brother Lucien, was standing off to the side. He stopped speaking as five dark figures entered the front entrance. Four of them had the obvious look of cultists based on descriptions obtained from successful raids: black-hooded robes with red blasphemous symbols adorning their clothing. But the fifth figure is what made Father Morales stop. It obviously was once a man, dark skinned with dreadlocks wearing a dark leather coat. On particular parts of his skin, dark green scales had emerged. He had thick black talons instead of nails and his eyes glowed red with an unearthly light.

"Woo hoo! Now look at this beautiful place with all these fine people hiding inside!" he screamed excitedly as he strode toward Father Morales down the aisle. His companions stayed at the rear to block the doorway.

"Who are you? What do you want in the house of the good Lord?" the priest asked, failing to keep the fear from his voice.

The warped one laughed as he answered the scared priest. "Who am I? Who am I, little man? I am one of the favoured of the dark one! And I must recruit you and regretfully slay those that spurn the offer of MY LORD. I'll be starting with you, Father!"

As he reached out for the priest, a squad of armed troopers appeared from one of the back rooms behind the altar. With expert precision, they opened fire, wiping out the four cultists before they could draw any weapons in retaliation. The soldiers then converged their firing onto the leader. He stumbled back under a torrent of bullets that ripped into his body but he did not fall. The firing stopped as the soldiers were stunned into an inactioned silence. The warped one flicked its head back, flinging the dreadlocks out of its face, their movement more like snakes than that of hair. The soldiers now took a step back as he stepped forward, his arms out wide, showing the places where they had hit him. Several bloody holes had been punched into his mid-section, which were leaking a black substance that evaporated into wisps of smoke as it touched the ground of the church. He laughed as they began to heal and reseal themselves and continued his approach to Father Morales.

"Well, Father, you disappoint me! Relying on men of war to protect you...Tsk, tsk...You should be showing these good people the power of your God. Where are the guardian angels that you can call to protect them?" After a brief pause, he continued. "But you can't do that, can you? My God gave me regenerative powers and supernatural strength! What has your God done for them?" gesturing to the parishioners who were frozen with awe.

Father Morales was desperate. This demon's oratory skill was phenomenal, almost hypnotic, and was starting to enthrall the crowd. Pulling a small gold crucifix out from his pocket, he held it out before him as he took a deep breath to calm himself.

In as strong a voice as he could muster, he said, "He's given them faith, joy and love. You can't offer them these, can you? And as for me, demon? He's given me strength too, the strength to resist your evil!" The warped one's laughter abruptly stopped as its taloned hand came into contact with the crucifix... Smoke started to drift from the warped one's hand. A yell of extreme pain was unleashed as he drew his hand back. The skin on the hand had peeled back and was blackened by a burn mark.

"That is another gift my God gave to me also, demon! Purity!" The priest yelled at it. The cult leader shrank back for a moment, examining his injured hand, anger rising in him as he noticed the wound wasn't healing. He snarled and then suddenly lashed out with the back of his hand, sending Father Morales reeling to the ground, which brought a gasp from the crowd.

"All that purity that your God has gifted you with, won't save you now!" With that said, he aimed an overhead blow at the stricken priest. Such was the speed of his attacker, Father Morales couldn't move to avoid it and just closed his eyes. But instead of pain or agony, he heard a very loud clanging sound right in front of his face. When he heard more movement, he opened his eyes and almost choked in shock when he saw the scene before him. The shocked look on the crowd's face equaled his as before them stood Brother Lucien sword in hand, facing the cult leader.

Brother Lucien Wilbanks was by nature a gentle soul. A short, thin man always soft spoken, he had never a violent thought let alone done a violent deed in his entire life. When the cultists first appeared, he shrank back in fear. As the cult leader spoke, his fear increased but as the leader struck at Father Morales, he felt the fear melt away. It was replaced by feelings he had never felt before: 'hatred' and 'rage.'

Father Morales was a kind-hearted man who looked after sick children when he wasn't comforting the huddled masses with his sermons. What gave this thing the right to harm him? He knew he had to do something, but what?

He looked around until his eyes rested on an old marble figure of a saint; beautifully crafted, but it was the sword in its hands that drew his attention. It was really an old relic from a long forgotten past. He picked it up from the statue's hands just as the demon drew back its hand to finish off Father Morales.

And so a man who had never known violence ran forward, brandishing the ancient weapon. He swung wildly to parry the blow just before it hit its target. Such was the power behind the cult leader's attack. Lucien felt as if his shoulders had been dislocated. He could barely hold the sword aloft. With a swing that used all the energy he had left, he cut across his opponent's arm as he tried to ward it off.

Another howl of pain was unleashed, which then turned into a snarl as the cult leader known as Drax saw that he had received another wound that wouldn't heal. He then smiled for he could also see the wariness in his opponent. Seizing the opportunity, he leapt forward, bowling Brother Lucien from his feet.

Drax landed heavily on top of him, winding him. Drax stood up in a bid to finish him off. It was then that he noticed the ancient sword sticking out from his chest. In his rushed attack, his speed had worked against him. So fast was his attack that Brother Lucien didn't move at all, not even to lower his sword, which his fatigued state was forcing him to do. Drax had impaled himself upon it, the keen edge finding its way to his corrupted heart.

The cult leader stumbled and then fell to his back and started to moan as his skin began to smoke, which turned into a tortured scream as his flesh began to melt. The screaming continued until there was nothing left except for the sword lying in a puddle of ooze. The decaying stench from this mess had more than one person in the crowd retching.

The crowd who were mainly silent through the whole ordeal started cheering as Father Morales walked over to Brother Lucien to help him to his feet. The gleam in their eyes spoke endlessly about what appeared to be a great victory. Mere mortals had destroyed a hell spawn. While not a demon, he was still a powerful servant of the dark path and still a servant on the hopeful path to demonhood. It was after all what these cultists desired to become, like their masters. But every clergyman knew it was a forlorn hope.

"Others must be notified of this triumph!" Father Morales said excitedly. Brother Lucien sensed the overwhelming jubilation in his voice. But he also sensed a feeling of fear with it and he could understand it completely. While they had indeed vanquished a powerful evil, an event they could possibly draw a solution from, now they had no choice but to find that solution because as he looked at the crowd he realised denial of the situation was no longer an option.

## The Debate of Survival

On January the 15th, ten days after that miraculous event, representatives of all the different religious sects met at St. Luke's Cathedral in New York. The large building's pews were packed with eager listeners.

Cardinal Fergus cleared his throat and finally spoke, "Gentlemen, gentlemen, as the Pope's representative, I implore you all that we must come to an understanding, an agreement and finally we must come to a solution! The first is an understanding, gentlemen. We were lucky, we saw the defeat of one of our demonic invaders in Australia and similar events have occurred worldwide in the last ten days. We now have the weapons. Relics of ancient times or even weapons blessed by the holy church seem to have an effect on these heretics' demonic masters. Technology as we have observed during our military raids are more than capable of handling their cultist servants."

He paused in his speech to allow all the information sink in. "Our military forces are losing morale from constant losses and are starting to lose faith. We as priests and holy men cannot fight these forces of evil. Are we agreed on this?" The general nods and affirmations showed that they all shared this view of the situation.

"And now to the solution. We need warriors superior to us in every way, physical and mental, and their faith in the lord as strong as ours! But where do we find them, I hear you ask? Well we must test our faith. God may have made us in his image but like our cave-dwelling ancestors, we too must evolve if we are to survive! Doctor, please come forward!" A man wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a white lab coat came forward. "Gentlemen, this is Dr. Reinfeld, the world's leading geneticist."

Dr. Luis Reinfeld, a wiry man with shortly cropped red hair, stepped forward. "Gentlemen, gentlemen, with the work I have been researching, we will be able to create genetically modified men with greater strength, resilience and fortitude, both mentally and physically. They can be grown to full adulthood within a week or two of their life. Life expectancy can range from two hundred to five hundred years of age. They will be immune to most toxins and poisons. Any questions?"

A Shaolin monk from China raised his hand. "If you raise them to adulthood within a week, how can they learn to speak, to think or to fight? It takes years to learn these things."

"A good question but I must apologise. When I said they would have a strong mind, I understated the significance of this. With the help of virtual reality and state-of-the-art computer systems, we can teach them what they need. Basic educational needs, military strategy, martial arts, marksmanship and so on. We are completely prepared for this. All we need is your approval. Believe me, this is the only way humankind will survive into the future..."

Donis smiled at the memory. It was his history as much as his sword's. He was one of the first. The good doctor wasn't wrong; now man has moved amongst the stars, alien races are added to the long list of enemies as well as their short list of allies. Leaving his reflections behind him, he joined his men and left the cathedral behind.
CHAPTER 3

# Humanity's Haven

Templar Captain Donis stomped down the crowded hallway, his armour still bloody from his latest mission. Priests, scientists, engineers, all inhabitants of the fortress Humanity's Haven, recognised the Captain's agitated state and respectively moved out of his way.

Donis' pace quickened. He had been with his men changing from their armour when the call for his summons was heard on an intercom. The Grand Master of his order had told him that some clergy representatives wished to discuss his actions on his latest mission and requested he bring his suit camera. That could only mean one thing...yet another investigation. He understood why they were so concerned when a mission of his didn't go to plan. He put the thoughts aside as he approached the lavishly decorated doors ahead. Standing in front of them was a familiar figure, but by no means a friendly one. A mean smile played across Captain Titus' brutal-looking face.

"In trouble yet again, Captain Donis? Maybe they'll finally get rid of you!"

Donis looked at his rival. For the last fifty years of their existence, they had never liked each other.

"Well I do try to be like you, a shining example, but I couldn't quite attach my lips to my superior's arse," Donis retorted.

Titus' face turned into an ugly snarl, his sharpened white teeth gleaming in the well-lit corridor, his fierce visage resembling the great white shark that his DNA had been spliced with.

"You're a disgrace, Donis. I can smell the taint of the demons you hunt on you. No wonder the clergymen are afraid of you!" A heavy breathing sound emanated from his chest while his mouth was closed.

Donis snorted and patted him on the shoulder, "Sorry, gotta go, shark boy. Didn't mean to get your gills in a ruffle."

Titus' glare blazoned as he balked for a return comment as he watched Donis' departing back as the door closed behind him. Titus turned and strode down the hallway, growling as he went.

Donis' entrance was welcomed by a deep throaty laugh, "Won't you two children ever get along?"

Donis snickered, "Sorry, Master, not unless you give me permission to wire his mouth shut!"

Donis studied his old mentor as he chuckled. Grand Master Tyrius, the first Templar ever to be born. He was a tall man, dark skinned, broad of shoulder with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Even though he only was wearing robes, his powerfully built body presented a definite aura of strength. It was at this time Donis noticed that they were not alone in the Grand Master's spartanly furnished office. He about faced and saw two men sitting on a couch in an adjoining room. One, an elderly man with snowy white hair cropped short, was obviously a priest due to his regalia. The other was a middle-aged man with styled light brown hair, his clothing was expensive as was the cologne that Donis could smell from the room he was in. The man wore an expression on his face that was cocky and had an air of superiority to it. This was a man used to people being afraid of him; a lawyer, Donis surmised.

"I'm afraid we're neglecting our other guests. Come along, Donis." With that, Tyrius led him to the other room. As they approached, neither man rose to greet him. Tyrius made the introductions.

This is Father Alexis, newly arrived from Rome, acting as the pope's representative.

"Captain Donis, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Even in Rome we have heard of your many exploits," stated the priest with a slight Italian accent.

"Thank you, Father. It is a pleasure to be in the presence of one of the Pope's very own," Donis said as he bowed to the priest.

Tyrius continued, "And this is Maxwell Sheridan, a lawyer from downtown."

"Mr. Sheridan," Donis said as he bowed again.

The man did not rise and just nodded as he replied, "Captain."

Silence descended upon the small group, the air was filled with a nervous tension as they all looked around at each other.

Mr. Sheridan was the one to break the silence. He cleared his throat and said, "Gentlemen, perhaps we can dispense with any further formalities and come to the point of this meeting."

Donis decided now was the time to ask a question of this abrupt, pompous fool. "Well perhaps, Mr. Sheridan, you could start with, why am I being called up?"

Sheridan didn't even flinch at his irritated tone. His face broke into a grin as he opened a small black folder and said, "Certainly, Captain, as you well know as a ruling passed down by the court from the Moran case, any discrepancies or abnormalities in missions you participate in are to be investigated."

Donis nodded, but his eyes narrowed at the mention of the Moran case.

Not looking up from the folder, Sheridan continued, "Now, Captain, please if you could confirm the information we have gathered from conversations between you and your men on your radio-coms. Now you arrived at your target destination six o'clock in the morning. Is that correct?" he quizzed.

Donis nodded in the affirmative.

"And you successfully completed your mission at approximately half past six?" Donis nodded again.

"But, Captain, you were specifically ordered to retrieve Bishop Laris, not slay him, so how could you consider your mission successfully completed?" asked Sheridan, raising his voice as if to intimidate Donis.

Undaunted, the Grey Templar Captain answered with, "Our mission entailed us to find or discover the whereabouts of Bishop Laris and counteract any possible heretical activities. Since the late Bishop was the head of the heretical activities, which included the torture and murder of the cathedral's priests and monks, his death was inevitable!"

"But, Captain, could you not have detained or captured him?" asked Sheridan with a raised eyebrow.

"No, Laris had allowed himself to be possessed by a demon by the name of Lo-an-Gorg, and as I said, his death was inevitable as well as richly deserved!"

"Granted such treason does deserve such harsh punishment but do you have any proof of such treachery?"

Donis grinned as he produced the memory disc from his suit camera and claimed, "Just my word, oh, and the visual and audio feed from my suit camera!"

"Show us then," ordered Sheridan with an amused look on his face. He had an air of arrogance about him Donis could not understand. The memory disc would clear him of any doubt.

Donis walked over to a screen panel in the wall across from where he was standing. He pushed a small button and a compact disc slot pushed itself out from the wall. He inserted the disc and pushed the slot back into the wall.

Donis didn't return to the seated group; instead, he remained standing against the wall to the left of the view screen. The blank screen lit up as it started to load the input of the suit camera memory disc with a few clicks and whirs. The screen came alive with familiar images that Donis recognised as the front of the cathedral. But as images of the main door came up, the visual feed fades to static. Although voices could be heard on the audio, it was garbled and incomprehensible. Donis closed his eyes, as he knew this did not bode well for him.

As if reading his mind, Sheridan said to him, "This doesn't look good, Captain. If you can't prove that your slaying of Bishop Archibald Laris was justified, then the court has the power to disband you and the four other members of your unit, brand you as traitors of humanity and have you executed as such!" His eyes were lit up with joy.

Before Donis could say or do anything, Tyrius cut in. As indeed, he noticed a slight movement of Donis' hand imperceptibly toward his side arm at the mention of him and his men being called traitors.

"Now just one moment, Mr. Sheridan, I think I need to refresh your knowledge of the law. The court can't make that sort of ruling on a Grey Templar unless the pope himself or I agree. Is that not correct, Father Alexis?"

Amused by the proceedings, he smiled, "It is, Grand Master, it is, although I am the pope's representative when he is absent."

As the smile and cockiness faded from Sheridan's face, Tyrius continued. "As the pope is not present, Father Alexis, I'll pose the question to you. Do you think that Captain Donis' lack of evidence, while disappointing, is grounds for such a harsh punishment!"

"No, I don't think it is, Grand Master. At least not without further investigation into the matter," he responded.

"Now, Mr. Sheridan," Tyrius said with a penetrating gaze that his target couldn't meet. "I assume that the courts gave you an alternative course of action since they knew I would oppose it. Also, they are smart enough not to give some gung-ho lawyer the power to execute one of 'my' Templars without consulting me!" His voice was rising, showing that his temper was barely being held in check.

Totally deflated, Sheridan croaked out in a low voice. "The alternative they set was close and constant surveillance, whether it is at home or on a mission — a chaperone of sorts." Sheridan spoke into a wrist communicator, "Please come in, your services are required. Now may I... Mother of God!"

They saw him wide-eyed looking at the wall screen. The static had disappeared and the feed was clear; it showed Bishop Laris or at least what was left of him after the banishment of Lo-an- Gorg.

Sheridan's cockiness returned with vengeance, "Sure of your decision now, Father?" as he turned to look at Father Alexis.

Alexis met his gaze, "Yes, Mr. Sheridan, I am despite the gruesome sight before me. It is not the first I've seen. I have witnessed many Templar missions, none of them a pretty sight. This image neither condemns nor supports Captain Donis' innocence and therefore I will not let it influence my judgement." He looked disturbed by the scene before him, but his words were firm and showed that he wasn't embellishing his earlier claims.

Sheridan looked defeated and disappointed, but before he could say anything, the door opened and in walked a young man. He looked to be about twenty-five years of age, average height and weight, with thinning, wavy brown hair. The white collar around his neck and black regalia identified him as a priest. Sheridan stood as the newly arrived guest entered the room they were all sitting in.

"Gentlemen, this is Father Luis Harkon. He is a priest as well as a teacher from right here in the Humanity's Haven fortress. He is also the court's appointed watchman of Captain Donis," announced Sheridan.

The man bowed then righted himself to look at them with a mixture of awe and pride. "Father Alexis, Grand Master Tyrius, Captain Donis. It is such an honour and a pleasure to be in the presence of such powerful personalities," he said by way of formal greeting.

Both Alexis and Tyrius returned his greeting, while Donis remained quiet. He then rolled his eyes and turned to Tyrius. "Master... this can't be happening."

A confused Father Harkon asked, "Is there a problem Captain Donis?"

Donis had the good grace to blush as he realised what he had said. "Ahh...No offence intended, Padre, it's not that I'm against your actual presence within our group. The effect your presence will have is what I'm concerned about. On a mission a non-combatant such as yourself is a liability to us. The danger in a combat situation would increase with your presence."

Seeing a non-comprehending look on Harkon's face, he continued in the hope to explain his point better. "What I mean to say is that while you watch us, my men will have to risk themselves to protect you. While they will not mind doing just that, Padre, it would introduce extra variables and could jeopardise any mission we are on."

Harkon nodded understandingly, "I understand your position, Captain Donis, but unfortunately the courts..."

Sheridan cut in, "The court's decision is based on the fact that while he assumes responsibility for certain risks, he will be under your protection. They believe this will also provide insight on your personal character and your relation to the clergy. This is one of the court's conditions on the surveillance being conveyed upon your group I shall now recite.

"Your appointed watchman will record all missions.

"Said watchman will report any actions deemed treacherous or heretical, which will then be investigated and acted upon by the courts if necessary.

"As well, said watchman shall also report any behaviour of a suspicious nature, which will then be investigated and acted upon by the courts if necessary.

"And lastly, should any form of harm befall said watchman by you and your men or any enemy targets you are engaged with, it will then be investigated and acted upon by the courts if necessary. Do you understand these conditions I have set out and agree to follow them to the best of your ability?"

Donis nodded as he said, "I do!" He looked to Tyrius as if imploring if anything could be done.

"Sorry, Donis, there's a limit to my power allowed by my rank. I can alter a verdict passed by the court on one of my Templars, but I can't overrule it."

Donis took a deep breath as if accepting his fate and then he looked to Harkon and said. "In that case, Padre, I ask that you forgive my rudeness and welcome you aboard. So come along, you might as well meet my men, since we will be staying very close for the immediate future."

He bowed to the others, "Good day, gentlemen." He inclined his head as he bowed to look at Tyrius. "Master?" Tyrius nodded in answer to his pupil's request to leave. With no more words, he turned and left the room. Harkon remained a step behind him while quickly making his own farewells.

As he went to make his exit, he couldn't help but notice the big grin that had formed on Sheridan's face. He guessed the man was happy with how the proceedings went. Their voices grew fainter as they continued to converse with one another as he left the room and closed the door behind him.
CHAPTER 4

# Getting Acquainted

Donis led Harkon through a series of corridors until they ended up at a huge glass door with a small terminal next to it.

"I've never been here before," stated Harkon.

"This area is off limits to anyone but Templars!" Donis said as he approached the terminal and turned just in front of it. An evil grin played on his face, revealing his fangs. "On pain of death, but in your case I'll make an exception! Although I speak only for myself so it's best you stick close to me!"

He laughed when he saw that Harkon had stopped a few meters behind him.

Seeing that he was being made fun of, he joined in on Donis' mirth and walked the rest of the way to Donis' side. Donis turned, typed in a code on the terminal, then placed a hand on a flat pad and positioned his head before a small camera lense. The terminal beeped as it collated the information from the handprint and retina scan.

A feminine mechanical voice said, "Welcome, Captain Donis, please enter!" The glass door slid open and they entered a long, brightly lit corridor. As it branched off into several sections, which led into various training halls, Harkon heard the unmistakable sound of shooting. He recognised the different sounds of the variety of ranged weapons employed by the Templars as they passed a section with a large sign that said 'Shooting Range.' Donis turned into a branched section with a Close Combat Training sign. The turnoff led into a large hall, which was sectioned off into six glass cubicles, five of which were in use.

As they came to the first cubical on the left, Donis stopped and pointed at the occupant.

"This is Pellos, he is my second in command; he is also the only other member of this group trained in the use of my sword. Or more precisely, the incantations needed to banish a demon from its host's body." Pellos was of average height, well built with a tanned complexion and dark spiked hair.

"Pellos' DNA was spliced with that of a cheetah; he naturally has the speed and agility equal to that of his parent animal. As well, he doesn't tire from constantly moving at a fast pace, he acts as our scout and is, because of his inherited abilities, a very effective one. He also acts in some circumstances as our group's personal assassin."

As they spoke, Pellos circled his droid opponent. It, in turn, assumed a basic Tae Kwon Do guard stance. Then it launched its attack. A quick jab followed by a hook punch and finished with a step-in sidekick. It was well executed and very fast...but not fast enough. Pellos was ready for the punches. He blocked them and as the droid was halfway through its kick, he quickly sidestepped so that he was now facing its back. A low kick to the back of its knee brought it down on it. Now off balance, it was sent to the floor with a backhand blow to its head. Before it could even process getting up, Pellos stepped heavily on the back of its neck. Such a move would have broken a normal man's neck. The combat droid merely regained its feet and bowed, signaling the end of the bout as Pellos bowed back.

Donis moved onto the next cubical with Harkon trailing behind. In this one, the combatants were already sparring, trading blows with one another. The Templar inside was tall, skinny and pale skinned with close-cropped, dark brown hair.

"This is Brackis; he is the squad's tactical weapons officer. In given circumstances, the squad may be called upon to do a mission, which they are incapable of performing with their normal weaponry.

"It is the role of the tactical weapons officer to anticipate the squad's need. Then supply them with the necessary weapons and services in order to complete their objective mission.

"Brackis' DNA was spliced with that of a python. His swift and supple movements combined with his ability to inflate his muscle structure larger than someone his size should, all make him a deadly adversary."

Just as he finished, Brackis' droid opponent manoeuvred itself behind him. Its arms encircled him in a bear hug, its grip's pressure increasing to spine-crushing proportions. They noticed Brackis' body swell up, the muscles of his body expanding ever so slightly before the attack as if to resist the pressure being exerted on him.

But before the droid's crushing strength could come to bear, Brackis deflated the air in his body, shrinking his body so he was now held loosely. He wasted no time after that. Before the droid could retighten its grip, he struck as swift as a serpent. In fact, no sooner had he loosened the grip did he sink low and split his arms wide, the movement breaking open his opponent's grip. He then fell forward onto the ground and lashed out with his foot, buckling its legs as he delivered two sharp blows to the inside of its knees. He sat up, grabbed its hips and placed his foot into its lower abdomen. He rolled backwards and then kicked out launching it over him. This sent the droid flying through the air for it to land in a great heap on the other side of the cubicle.

They turned to face the cubicle behind them, "This is Rictus, our artillery officer, whether it be for anti-personnel or anti-tank purposes." The Templar mentioned was a tall, well-built man with dark well-combed hair.

"Rictus is another of feline origin. His DNA was spliced with that of a tiger and as such, he is powerful, fierce and proud. Pride is a warrior's greatest asset as well as his greatest enemy, making him a very unpredictable adversary to face."

They looked on as Rictus dodged several blows from his opponent, but unfortunately the droid had been setting him up, attacking with a particular combination. It then suddenly switched it as Rictus had become accustomed to it. The result of this manoeuvre was a hard blow to Rictus' mid-section, which drove him back a couple of steps into the wall of the cubicle. Rictus snarled like a wild tiger whose domain had been challenged as the droid closed in to finish him. Full of burning rage, Rictus did not wait. He leapt forward, swiping aside the attack intended to finish him with a high step in side kick. Then he exploded with a powerful hand strike combination to its head, chest and mid-section, sending the combat droid reeling to the center of the cubicle. Before it could recover from this onslaught, he pounced again. A low kick to the inside of the thigh, splitting its legs apart and bowing its upper torso down in time to meet the clawed hand strike that removed its head from its shoulders. The droid did not budge nor did it fall, it merely stood there. Then it bowed to Rictus who eventually returned the 'end-of-combat' gesture.

Father Harkon's eyes were wide with shock at the sheer brutality of the scene before him. Seeing this, Donis chuckled. "The combat droids are made of a titanium alloy. They withstand anything we can throw at them," he explained. They walked onto the next cubicle. The occupant of this one was huge. Equal to any of the other Templars in height but his body bulked twice the size of any of the others. With arms like tree trunks and a head of shortly shaved blonde hair, he truly was a terrifying sight to behold. "Now this is Daedelis, our transport officer, both driving and vehicular weapons. If we go anywhere, then he drives or flies us including naval and space travel."

"Daedelis was spliced with the DNA of a grizzly bear. He has immense strength, an unmatched ferocity in combat and he..."

Before he could finish, an ungodly roar filled the hall. They turned to see Daedelis duck under a punch from his opponent. He then grabbed the outstretched arm and rammed his elbow into the droid's chest. The blow landed with enough force to send it flying across the room, crashing into the cubicle wall. Daedelis still had its torn-off arm in his hand. Before it stood up completely, he hit it hard in the mid-section with its own arm. A second two-handed blow with his impromptu weapon to the back of its head caused it to flip forward and land flat on its back. All was silent then the combat droid stood and caught its arm as Daedelis tossed it back to it. It then reconnected its arm and bowed to its victor who bowed back.

"Alright, boys, come out here!" called Donis. After they had assembled in front of him, he continued. "Guys, this is Father Luis Harkon. He'll be with us for a while." They all nodded to Harkon by way of greeting. He returned their greeting in kind.

Harkon noticed another unintroduced Templar in a nearby cubicle. He was young, roughly about twenty years of age. He was of average height, a medium build, shortly cropped dark hair. He had a sword in each hand, which he twirled about himself in a circular pattern. He started off slowly, increasing the pace until his arms became a blur of motion.

"Who's he?" asked Harkon.

Donis turned to see who Harkon was referring to.

"Oh...that's Flamius, my protégé, each Senior Templar is charged with the duty of mentoring the younger members of the order of the same genus."

"Genus?" queried Harkon.

"Same DNA species. It is this way because we can relate to any changes they may be experiencing because we have gone through them ourselves."

As Donis turned and prepared to walk away, he heard someone clear his throat to get his attention.

Rictus then stated, "Perhaps it would be to your students' benefit if his mentor didn't try to skip out on his training exercises!"

As Rictus started laughing, Donis turned around with a big grin on his face. "Luckily Padre, none of Rictus' protégés have yet to develop into a smart ass! So we're just hoping it's a genetic defect!"

Rictus stopped laughing at the mild insult, but joined in as everyone burst into laughter.

Donis stepped forward and said out loud, "Computer, please configure cubicles one to four into a single cubicle." As soon as he had commanded, glass walls disappeared into the floor as new ones rose up. Finally, one big cubicle had been formed and the others left the cubicle. Donis, who stood at the center, was soon surrounded by the four droids. Finally, a fifth droid entered the cubicle but hung back as the others charged in...

The first two droids approached him one behind the other; the first attacked with a swift hook to his head. Donis ducked under the punch and bowed the droid over with a low uppercut to its mid-section. Gripping its chin and the back of its head in his hands, he twisted, creating a body motion that sent it flipping off to the side. With the momentum gained from this move, he continued to spin around. He caught the second droid — who had manoeuvred itself to his side — with a spinning back kick, which was powerful enough to propel it across the room. The droid bounced off one of the walls and landed in a heap on the floor.

Donis charged at the second pair of droids, who were in a side-by-side formation six feet apart. As he closed in, the droid on his right dashed forward, turning low with a leg sweep. Donis jumped over it and while in the air, he spun into a jumping crescent kick, knocking the second droid off its feet. As he landed, he brought his foot down on the still extended leg of the first droid, pinning it to the floor. He then proceeded to send it flat onto its back with a forearm blow to the throat.

Harkon watched as Donis faced the last of the droids. They both just stood facing one another. The droid began pushing buttons on a digital display on its left forearm. Soon after, Harkon could hear motor engines and pistons starting up.

Harkon turned to Pellos, "What is happening?"

Pellos faced him as he answered, "Droid 1A has been specifically modified for Donis' special needs." Seeing confusion on Harkon's face, he continued. "You see...Donis' DNA was spliced with that of a rare giant reptile called a Komodo dragon. Because of this, he is fast and very strong; in fact, his muscle structure, like Daedelis, is equal to that of his parent animal. But unlike Daedelis, Donis' weight ratio is nowhere near equal. Whereas your average Komodo Dragon can weigh up to one hundred and fifty kilograms, Donis only weighs seventy-five kilograms. This ratio differentiation means that his muscles are overloaded for his body size. This, in turn, leads to his body being able to move at impossibly fast speeds, so that he is no more than a blur of motion. Unfortunately, even his increased metabolism can't handle this. So he is only able to produce short bursts of speed; the longest we've seen is about one minute. It doesn't tire him completely though. Now back to what I was saying. This droid has been modified to match his speed. So he now faces an opponent that can not only match his speed but exceed it and is quite capable of beating him."

As he finished, Donis and Droid 1A charged one another. They were, as Pellos described, blurs of motion. Blurs that were moving all over the cubicle, back and forth, side-to-side and every which way.

To Donis, the world around him was moving so slowly that to him it was a frozen image of familiar faces. Meanwhile, he and his opponent were moving at normal pace. Donis knew he had to hurry while he was starting to tire; his opponent had no such worry. He waited for an opportunity to appear, and when he saw it, he took it.

The droid A1 had dashed forward using its strength and speed combined to create a straight punch to his face. It was designed to render him unconscious as a minimum and could potentially kill him by crushing his skull. Donis took a gamble when he used all his remaining energy to jump forward and a little to his right. He was guessing from its positioning that A1's attack was coming from its right. As such, the attack would just miss him. Although if he was wrong he would get wiped out. He got himself into position and just stopped... he guessed right.

To the others it looked as though Donis had stopped dead still, coming out of his shadow dance just as the other shadow came at him. It all came to an explosive halt as the punch sailed mere inches past his face. He then grabbed and pulled A1's wrist, making it ram its head full force into Donis' waiting palm strike. The droid's arm was then released as the combination of Donis' strength added to its momentum. It all resulted in A1's head being bent back at a ninety degree angle and its body bent in a vertebrae-crushing position. A normal man would have been dead before he felt anything. A1 merely began to bring itself upright until it discovered Donis was not finished. He had drawn himself back with a big intake of breath. He then released it with a powerful double-palmed strike to A1's chest, sending it flying through the air. It bounced several times as it crashed to the floor.

Donis turned to see Flamius watching him in awe and then bowing to him as a sign of respect for his mentor. Donis returned it. He then bowed to the five droids who had all picked themselves up. The cubicles reset themselves to their original configuration as Donis exited.

Looking at Rictus, "Well are you happy now, Ric?"

Rictus chuckled, "Not bad for a fifty-year-old! Sorry, Captain, I never tire of your handiwork.

You're like an artist with your fists and your feet."

Donis raised an eyebrow and leaned back as if distancing himself. "Ric, I don't know which is more worrying to me. The fact that you're cultureless enough to think that my beating a couple pieces of metal with my fists is art, or the fact you're watching me that closely."

They all laughed as Rictus replied, "I think I can guess!"

Donis said. "Come on then, let's go home, it's been a long day!"

Harkon took note of what he was witnessing as they all walked away from the training hall. The relationship he saw between these men was not that of troops with their commanding officers but that of brothers. He was intrigued to see this human trait. It seems that it was possible to be humane while not entirely human.
CHAPTER 5

# Welcome Home

As they were walking toward the entrance of Humanity's Haven, Father Harkon saw two of his young students running down the hallway; this in such a crowded environment where most were armed was not allowed. He stopped the boys in their tracks and admonished them for their lack of discipline and consideration for the rules. He added that they would need these rules to be as good as the Templars that stood behind him. And at the rate they were going, they wouldn't even pass for janitorial staff. The students were young, perhaps only about fourteen years of age.

He could tell his words had stung them. So be it. If it was the only way he could get them to listen, he thought to himself. One had started to say something, but Harkon silenced him with a quick shushing sound. But when the student persisted with saying, "But Father..." Harkon raised his hand as if to strike him. The boy fell silent. The shocked look on his face turned into one of anger. Harkon held back his blow.

Harkon spun at the sound of hissing. It was Donis whose gaze went from the two youths to his own men. He then stopped and dismissed the two boys who walked away with their heads bowed, eyes looking toward the ground. Without another word, he continued walking with his men following his lead. Harkon followed in their wake, unsure and confused at what had just happened.

## Home Sweet Home

They were driving back to their living quarters in their All-Terrain Vehicle. The All-Terrain Vehicle resembled a Humvee without wheels; it hovered about two feet off the ground. Its suppressor bands were not visible as it sped along the empty highway. It was followed by a small, sleek hover bike piloted by Rictus.

As they glided along, Father Harkon noticed a change in his companions' behaviour. Even Daedelis who was driving seemed a little bit tense. Harkon couldn't understand why but it had all started with that incident with his students as they were leaving the Templar fortress.

Whatever it was, he was about to find out as they pulled up at a large apartment building. It was over fifty stories high, a combination of metal and glass. Every two levels which housed three connected apartments on each level hovered a couple of metres above one another, held up by what looked to be static electric fields. These types of apartments are more commonly seen in the city with more expensive and classy apartments neighbouring. Although no stairways connected the separated levels, Harkon knew that each contained a small teleportation unit, which acted sort of like a portal to each and every level of the building.

As they entered the building, Harkon noticed that the configuration of the unit on the first level was a corridor about three metres wide. There were three doors on the left and a staircase leading up to the second level. Their rooms were located on the first and second levels.

As the others went to their rooms. Donis took Harkon by the shoulder. He led him to the teleportation unit, which was at the end of the corridor.

"Walk with me, Padre, talk with me." They entered the unit one at a time and were zapped up onto the roof. They were alone as Donis walked to the ledge and looked out across the vista of the city in the afternoon light. It resembled an industrialised jungle, buildings everywhere. Old and new, some of the old ones had been standing for centuries; new ones like the one he was living in only a few years.

Harkon's voice broke his thoughts, "Captain, with all due respect, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"The incident that occurred at Humanity's Haven." Donis answered him, not turning around. "It was a bit curious; why did you hiss at those boys and your men? Did they do something to offend you?"

Donis chuckled and turned to face him, "No, Padre, I wasn't upset. That hiss you heard was a challenge that saved your life."

"But why would you challenge them, they're only little boys!" asked Harkon, taking on an irritated tone.

"To save you from getting killed, Padre, because the student you admonished wasn't willing to accept any insult to his pride. This is something we are taught at a very young age. Also, his companion was going to attack you for threatening his squad brother with physical violence."

"But they're only children!" protested Harkon.

"Well, Padre, those children have the capability of killing you with their bare hands in a matter of seconds. You are, however, quite correct in saying that they are children. So even with their strength, they are still emotionally fragile and this is a delicate time of their lives."

"And your men?" Harkon asked as he took these unknown facts into consideration.

"Well, Padre, we can't sire children. The order has ensured that it is genetically impossible for us to do so. So while we don't see ourselves as their fathers, we do try to be their older brothers and protect them as such. I thank God for both of our sakes you didn't strike the boy."

"Why?" Harkon queried.

"Because I wouldn't have been able to stop them from drawing their pistols and executing you. Then I would be in even more trouble, as it was I still had to warn them away from such action."

"Your regard for my safety compels me to heed your words, Captain!" Harkon retorted with a voice heavy with sarcasm.

"You know, Padre, you remind me of a priest I knew; Father Joseph Moran."

"I've never heard of him."

"Undoubtedly, you wouldn't have. He was a priest at Humanity's Haven over fifty years ago. Like you, he believed that a Templar child could be disciplined with a harsh mouth and a firm hand. He found out the hard way that he was wrong."

"Really, how?" asked Harkon, curious to know where this was leading. "He died; he was killed by one of his students," Donis said plainly.

"I take it the Templar was punished for this blasphemy?" Harkon asked, shocked to his very core by this news.

Donis smiled, "I'm still being punished for it to this very day."

Harkon took a step back, "So the rumours are true? You did kill a clergyman?"

Donis sighed, "Yes I did, but perhaps you would like to hear my story before you judge me, OK Padre?"

Harkon nodded, shocked to silence by all these revelations.

"Have you noticed, Padre, that other Templar squads contain six members while we only have five?"

Harkon nodded. He had noticed this but had never paid attention to it.

## Pain in the Past

"We did have a sixth member, his name was Silus. He was of the panther genus. When we were about the same age as your students, I disapproved of Father Moran's teaching techniques. He once hit my hand with a ruler for trying to touch a gold statue of Jesus on the cross, which he had warned us never to touch. He missed my palm and connected with my pinky finger, breaking it. I later complained to Grand Master Tyrius, who was my mentor at the time. He spoke to Moran of my complaint, who claimed it was an accident brought on by an undisciplined child's behaviour. Tyrius didn't have the power then that he does today so all he could do was warn Moran. Still, he wasn't pleased as the next day Moran berated me endlessly. I soon discovered his problem. He wasn't a bad man, his temper just got the best of him sometimes. This blinded him to both emotional and physical pain, which he caused. I found this out when he caught Daedelis leaning back on his chair against a wall asleep, something he had been warned not to do time and time again. Already angry from my complaint, Father Moran responded by kicking the chair leg closest to him. The chair skidded forward and tipped over, causing Daedelis to crack his head against the wall.

"Get up, Master Daedelis!" Daedelis got up slowly. Just before he could reprimand him, one of the other students announced, "He's bleeding, Father! I saw his face go white with panic then take up a handkerchief and applied it to Daedelis' head and sent Daedelis off to the infirmary. He then asked me to stay behind to discuss something. For what reason at that time I did not know but as I attended his office I soon understood.

"He sat there just watching me, his fingers together forming a tent before his mouth. Just when I thought he wouldn't speak, he began explaining. 'I'm not an evil man, you realise this? Don't you, Master Donis?' He paused. 'That today's incident was brought on by Master Daedelis' inability to listen to my orders. I don't think you young men realise that I am trying to make you as good if not better than the present Senior Templars.'

"He was trying once again to shift the blame away from himself and was undoubtedly taping this for an official hearing. I took a deep breath to calm myself and ease my anger before I spoke. Two could play at this game.

"I understand, Father, that you are not an evil man. You are, however, a man who allows his temper to get the best of him sometimes. This blinds you to the fact that we are not normal children, that Daedelis' actions are not intentional. That others of his genus suffer the same consequences. This and several other incidents are examples of my theory.' I paused to let this sink in. 'I do apologise, Father, but it is my duty as a Grey Templar to report today's incident to Grand Master Tyrius!"

"As it is my duty to report to the clergy that particular students in my class are disorderly and insubordinate. If the fault is mine, then it is through a lack of knowledge and not through my being derelict in my duty. You're dismissed, Master Donis."

"As I left his office, I realised his conversation with me served two purposes. The first was to tape the conversation. My lack of anger at his actions would prove his earlier statement true; that his actions were through a lack of knowledge, not dereliction of duty. Secondly, the only one who could oppose him was the Grand Master, but he had timed his recourse well. He timed it so I hadn't left until lights out. A time that no Initiates living at Humanity's Haven were to be outside their dorms. So I wouldn't be able to tell the Grand Master till the next morning, which would be too late. If I tried to go tonight and was caught, my standing on the matter would be severely damaged. Naturally, I'm no coward so I decided to try anyway.

"Most of the lights in Humanity's Haven were out; the dimly lit corridors were perfect at providing cover. Silus — who had asked to come along — and I had to sneak past the roving patrols of security droids who protected the Haven. Outwardly searching for intruders or runaway Templars, the droids missed the two now making their way to Grand Master Tyrius' quarters.

"When we got to within twenty metres of Tyrius' office, my cautious nature lapsed. That would be the reason we both failed to notice two shadows detach themselves from the dark. They came out from a dark corner to grab both of us by the shoulders. 'Gotcha!' one said out loud. I closed my eyes; I had been tricked again. Father Moran had set me up. A man with no military training had outsmarted me; I felt so ashamed. I recognised the voice of the man holding Silus as Godric. A large bald man who served as a clerk to the Haven. I knew the man holding me was Father Joseph Moran himself. Silus, on the other hand, didn't recognise any of these facts and acted as such. He twisted his head so he could bite down on one of the hands restraining him. He bit down hard with his fangs, drawing blood. Godric yelped in pain as he flung out his arm. Still maturing, Silus was strong but he still weighed as much as a teenage boy. Fueled by his pain, Godric sent Silus reeling backwards until he hit the waist-height railing and flipped over it. His scream was cut short by the one-storey drop.

"Father Moran released me to go to the railing. Godric was still stunned by what had happened. As such, he didn't see when I planted a kick to his lower abdomen, which sent him sliding across the floor of the corridor. I ran to the railing to see if Silus was alright. When I saw him staring vacantly up at the ceiling, I knew he had broken his neck in the fall. Father Moran was hyperventilating, repeating, 'Oh my God!' and after a few iterations, he continued. 'Godric, you fool, what have you done? You see? You see, Donis, what you have led me to?'"

"I burned with fury, my anger overriding my training. The man had not heeded my words and caused the death of one of my squad brothers. Yet still, he would not accept responsibility. He was sorry for himself and not my slain friend.

"Well I decided I would make him accept responsibility and the consequences. Instinct took over now; logic was right out the window. I grabbed him by his clothing and threw him over the railing. Moran landed hard and probably had broken a bone or two but was still alive. Incensed by this failure, I leapt off the balcony just as I heard the Grand Master shout, 'Donis, don't!' I picked up speed as I sailed through the air. I landed next to Moran, my knee smashing into his chest. The blow caved in his ribs on his heart, killing him instantly; his shocked look froze on his face. I ran up the stairs to enact my next execution, only to find Grand Master Tyrius standing in my way. 'You don't want to do this, Donis!'

"My voice trembling with barely suppressed emotion, I managed to say, 'He killed Silus, sir... he killed my squad brother, he deserves to die!' I leapt forward with blistering speed but as fast as I was, Tyrius was faster. He caught me in mid-leap. I tried to break free but couldn't. I eventually sank to my knees, exhausted. Tyrius' hands remained on my shoulders as I sobbed uncontrollably.

"It was at this time Godric decided to stand up. He had seen all that had happened. 'Grand Master Tyrius, the little bastard killed Father Moran. If it hadn't been for your noble efforts, sir, he would've murdered me too. I thank God for your intervention!'"

"In one fluid motion, Tyrius drew his Templar pistol and fired. A fluorescent green blast of light emitted from the muzzle of the weapon, which flashed through the air and within mere moments it had passed through Godric's left thigh. It burned hot enough to score the floor beneath him. Tyrius left me where I was and walked over to Godric. He aimed his pistol at Godric's forehead. Godric shrank back when he saw the anger burning in Tyrius' eyes. 'You dare to plead with God's name? You dare plead innocence with me after you killed one of my Templars!' His breathing was ragged and uneven as his finger tightened on the trigger.

"He didn't fire; he took a deep breath and calmed down. 'I really should execute you right now and nothing would make me happier but I'll leave that decision for the courts...'"

Donis stopped to look at Harkon, who was looking at him with an intensely interested visage on his face. As he made to leave, he heard Harkon ask, "Then what happened, Captain?"

"The court's verdict was that we were both found guilty of murder. When asked if anyone would champion our causes, no one spoke up for Godric and he was consequently executed. To my surprise, Grand Master Tyrius championed my cause. He faced the Trial of Champions and was the first ever to pass it. As a result, I was allowed to appeal their earlier sentence. It was decided that a probation of sorts was to be established, in which all my missions and my actions during those missions are recorded. These recordings are then studied for any future heretical acts of mine. Should any be found, the death penalty would automatically come into the equation. No second chances this time, just a quick execution."

"Look, here I am fifty years on and still paying for it."

"What is the Trial of Champions?" asked Harkon.

"Well that is another story altogether and one that can wait."

Harkon smiled, "Fine, Captain, but I would like to say, I don't judge you for your past actions. I will heed your advice and consider the students' feelings in the future."

Donis smiled back. "I was wrong about you, Padre, you're not like Moran. You are a good man and a smart one, I think. And I, for one, am glad."

"Why is that, Captain?"

Donis was at the teleporter when he turned with a sheepish grin on his face. "Because I wouldn't want history repeating itself."

He then entered the portal and disappeared, leaving Harkon to ponder his words. He looked around the rooftop, 'He couldn't have meant to throw me off the roof if he didn't approve of my reaction...could he...would he?'

Harkon shook his head clear of these thoughts as he approached the portal. Just when he thought he understood these men, he'd find something else to baffle him about them. He concluded that he'd learn more about them as he got situated in what was to be his new home. Perhaps then he could make an assessment of them. As he entered the portal to go down a thought hit him...It was the Captain's idea to come up here...
CHAPTER 6

# Bloody Mary

Donis entered his apartment, which was located at the center of the first floor, to find his men sitting at his dining table. To the left were two doors, which led to the kitchen and the bathroom. To the right was another door leading to his bedroom, which was the same size as the other two rooms put together. Finally, there was a large window on the far wall behind his dining table, which at that moment had its shutters closed, relying on the apartment lighting system to illuminate the place.

"Where is the Padre?" asked Pellos. "He's upstairs in his unit."

A loud thump coming from upstairs made them all look up; they heard someone mutter and a door slam shut.

"Apparently, he's just discovered the step in the middle of the room!" stated Rictus with a grin.

"Which I assume you neglected to warn me about?" Harkon quizzed as he entered Donis' apartment, closing the door behind him.

"Must have slipped my weary mind at the thought of some rest," Donis replied with a sleepy smile.

"Well you can have that later, we just got a call, we're on assignment tonight," Brackis said, with no hint of joking in his voice.

Donis rolled his eyes and then asked, "Who and where?"

Pellos continued, "It seems the police have got another tip on Bloody Mary; she's going to be down town near Town Hall."

Donis turned to Harkon, "Sorry, Padre, but we're going to have to leave you here tonight. You won't be able to accompany us on our mission."

"That must not be...Why?" protested Harkon.

"Because, Padre, we're going in under cover and a priest at a night club will sort of stand out. It may alert this little blood vixen to our presence," Donis said pointedly.

"Who is this Bloody Mary? I've never heard of her?" asked Harkon.

"She's a vigilante; she targets serial killers, rapists and so on. She does us a favour in killing off this scum. Unfortunately for her though, her kills are unsanctioned by the Templar order or any of the policing authorities, which makes her actions no better than those she hunts. Her usual method is that she calls the police to inform them that a particular criminal has been sighted in a particular part of town. Usually they're found in a club or pub back alleyway. Time of death of previous victims tells us her calls precede her kills by about two or three hours. The police's inability to catch her is why it has been assigned to us." He turned to Pellos, "So who is her target for tonight?"

"The Slasher, if you can believe it."

Donis chuckled, "We're in luck, Padre, the Slasher is one of our most wanted serial rapists. His style is that after he's used them, he then fills them full of a particular drug until they overdose. Those that don't die are too traumatised to give any real details of him. His calling card is that he carves a heart outline on their right cheek. He usually leaves a descriptive poem of what atrocities he performs on his victims. With Bloody Mary hunting him and us her, if we time it right we can nab both of them at the same time."

He continued when he noticed Harkon's uncertainty in his theory. "Look at it this way, Padre, it can go one of three ways. One, we grab her after she's done it. Two, we grab her before she's done it. Or three, we grab them both during it."

"You forgot one, you miss both of them!" inserted Harkon. "No I didn't, we never miss!" Donis said with an ironic smile.

Daedelis stood with a yawn, "Speaking of missing, I seem to be missing my sleep. Wake me when you're ready. If I don't miss my guess an hour?" Donis nodded.

"Don, do you mind?" he asked as he nodded his head at the bedroom. "Nah, go ahead," Donis said, waving him away.

As Daedelis disappeared, Harkon asked Donis about Daedelis' need for sleep at this time of the day.

"A fair question. Daedelis, if you remember, is of the bear genus. As you probably know, bears usually hibernate in winter. Since we can't afford to have Dae out of action for so long, he grabs a rest whenever he can."

Changing the subject, Donis turned to Pellos, "Was there anything else?"

"As a matter of fact, yes we've been told to be extra careful. Blade Wind is apparently in town, up to his usual tricks. The Dan-Yeeki ambassador has asked us to be extra cautious in dealing with him."

"The Blade Wind?" Brackis asked incredulously. Pellos nodded, adding, "They found some of his handiwork down the road. Twenty casualties all dead, one with his, ahhh...special treatment."

"Who's..." Harkon began.

"Blade Wind? He's another vigilante but one so stooped in so much evil that he could be nothing else but an agent of evil. His own people have offered bounties on his head. They are known to call him The Torturer because his selected victim is often found in the most worst of states.

Granted no one is going to miss rapists, murderers or paedophiles. Sadly for him, though, the kills are unsanctioned and no one is safe. Those nineteen other casualties were more than likely security or bodyguards. Men unaware that their chosen place of employment was going to cost them their lives."

"Sounds terrible," exclaimed Harkon, shocked that such a being could exist.

"That's putting it lightly, Padre, an alien serial killer loose on our streets. A man who knows no remorse, no forgiveness nor compassion for any of his victims. His inherited abilities of his race just make things worse. He's fast as lightning, he has a gracefulness we could only dream of. An intellect that is frighteningly superior to humans. Now it's our job to stop him..." he paused in his speech.

Then he flashed a smile, lacking any humour, "But hey, welcome to the life of a Grey Templar," he shook his head and snorted. "Is it any wonder why we relish things like tonight's mission? Going in amongst and interacting with normal human beings!"

Then Rictus added to this, "Yes, I agree, I wouldn't mind a drink and a hot woman to keep me company tonight."

Donis waved an accusing finger at him, "Just don't lose focus on the mission again, OK?"

"That only happened once!" Rictus said in defense. "Besides, they were identical twins, do you know how...how..." Rictus stopped as he noticed Harkon, who's jaw had dropped wide open.

"Something wrong, Padre?" he asked.

"I...I thought...well, I just assumed that you...I mean I've never been told otherwise." Comprehension of what he was babbling soon dawned on them.

Donis' smile held no mockery in it.

"Few do and even fewer care enough to ask!" he shrugged. "Look, Padre, we may be warriors of God and I'll fight demons, but celibacy has never been high on my list." He continued when he saw the dubious look on Harkon's face.

"Padre, you serve God one way, we serve in another. We each have to make a sacrifice; for you it's denying the pleasures of the flesh. For us, it's dedicating our lives to combating evil. Until it no longer exists or we die trying." The logic seemed to be reaching Harkon as his expression became less skeptical.

"Personally, if you ask me, I believe your sacrifice to be a greater tax on your willpower than ours could ever be. You were neither born nor raised to resist these temptations, while we, on the other hand, were bred for battling the forces of darkness."

Harkon's face took on a more friendly aspect, clearly moved by this show of respect. "Thank you, Captain, I appreciate your kind words. I agree whole heartedly with you; we both do serve God just the manner in which we do differs."

"Enough of this mushy talk, let's eat, I'm starving!" announced Rictus as he walked to the kitchen, the others following him in.

After watching the Templars eat enough food to feed a family three times their number, Harkon waited in the living room. The others went to change into casual clothing not of a military aspect. When they came back, he saw that they wore an assortment of clothing, ranging from turtle necks to tight tops, jeans to pants and each had a jacket of either leather or suede.

"Hey, Padre, how do I look?" asked Rictus, looking into a mirror to make minor adjustments to his hair.

"Sharp, Master Rictus, very sharp!"

"I better, I haven't been laid in so long, I could almost count myself celibate, eh Padre?" he jibed with a wink.

Harkon snorted at the bad joke, "I'm a priest! What's your excuse?"

All was silent after his return comment; Rictus just looked at him, had he pushed too far? Had he insulted this prideful warrior?

Rictus burst out into a fit of laughter, joined in by the others as he slapped Harkon on the back.

"Good, Padre, you're learning, I'm really starting to like you now!" he walked him over toward Donis' bedroom. "Be a good fellow and wake up Daedelis for us?"

"Ok," Harkon said uncertainly as he was led to the door.

He opened the door and disappeared into the dark room. Rictus looked at Donis who had an unamused look on his face.

"Relax, Doni, I'm sure the good father is fast enough to get away from Dae!" Donis raised an eyebrow as he said, "For your sake I hope so!"

When they heard shuffling in the bedroom, Rictus raised the five fingers of his left hand. He then started closing them one by one as he counted down. Five...four...three...two...

As he reached the count of one, a roar that vibrated throughout the apartment was unleashed. Then they heard sounds of great movement and Daedelis' enraged voice. "Come here! Don't run! I'll get you!" It was right at that moment that Harkon burst out of the room and slammed the door behind him, his breath coming out in great gasps as he leaned against the door.

"I don't think...I don't think he was ready to wake up yet!"

"Sorry, Padre, I should've mentioned, Dae...well he can be a bit of a grizzly bear when he wakes up!" announced Rictus, a wide grin on his face.

Harkon's eyes narrowed, "You're a mean man, Master Rictus!"

He then joined in on the laughter, which was cut short by Donis who shouted to Daedelis. "Wake up, sleeping beauty, time to get your heavy ass ready!"

A few minutes later, Daedelis appeared dressed similarly to the others, then the doorbell rang.

Pellos answered it, "Oh, hi honey..." his voice fading as he stepped outside.

Harkon threw Donis a questioning glance, "Honey?"

Donis smiled as he answered, "Pel's the only one of us to actually settle down and date someone. Templars are forbidden to have a relationship with anyone. Unless, of course, they work for either the order or other policing authorities who are fully aware of our existence and our identities. This usually isn't a problem since we can't offer a woman much. We are not able to bear children nor could we offer them a peaceful life so relationships tend to be short lived. Michelle is a police forensics expert. Pellos has been with her for over a year now!"

Just as he finished, Pellos returned with a tall and lithe young woman. Her hair was blonde cropped to just above her shoulders. She was dressed in a shimmering one-piece blue dress that was cut at thigh length. Harkon thought she looked more like a movie star than a police woman.

"Father Luis Harkon, this is Michelle Silovska," announced Pellos by way of introduction. "Father," she said in a sweet, soft-toned voice as she stuck out her hand.

"Miss Silovska," he replied, accepting her firm grip. He now looked at her in a new light with the strength hidden by her slim figure now exposed.

"Well now that we're all acquainted, we can discuss tonight's game plan," Donis interrupted.

"You three," Donis said, pointing at Rictus, Daedelis and Brackis, "are with me! We will check out any suspicious-looking single females tonight. Be subtle, guys, let her target you." Pointing at Pellos and Michelle, "You two are on couple's patrol, if anyone seems a bit resistant to you joining them, keep an eye on them."

He walked to the door, turning as he opened it. "Padre, do me a favour, have some bandages ready for when we get back. I have a feeling our quarry won't go down without a fight."

Donis looked to the others and exclaimed, "Let's do this!"

## A Nice Night Out

The music was fast paced with a heavy beat but not so loud that it made conversation impossible. Donis, Rictus, Daedelis and Brackis entered the small club together. They were followed by Pellos and Michelle a few moments later. The four Templars studied the various young women at the bar.

"Alright, boys, divide and conquer," Donis ordered.

"How about that one, she's definitely got potential!" said Rictus, indicating a young, attractive, busty redhead; she was wearing a small, short red dress that left nothing to the imagination.

"You horny bastard! Can't you for once think with your brain and not your..." began Brackis in mock outrage.

Daedelis interrupted him with, "Nah, Ric, you should try that one!" The young lady pointed out was sitting at the end of the bar by herself. While attractive, she wore a purple knee-length skirt, as well as a cardigan of the same hue, which did nothing to accentuate her bodily features. Reading glasses rounded her outfit off to give her an innocent little-girl look, almost bordering on nerdy.

Rictus laughed. "Oh please, she looks like a choir girl!" Tilting his head, Donis watched her for a bit. "I'll take her."

All three of his companions looked at him, "Are you serious?" they asked simultaneously.

"How many choir girls do you know of that carry a knife in their boot tops?" he whispered to them conspiratorially. Sure enough when they looked, they noticed the tip of the hilt of a knife. It peeked out at the top of her right leather boot.

"Get to work!" he said as he turned away from them.

As he approached, he took a deep breath and ran his right hand's fingers through his hair. "Is this seat taken?" he asked her.

She looked up at him and smiled. When he saw this, his earlier summation of attractive changed to beautiful. "Not at all, sit if you want."

"Are you waiting for someone?" he asked to keep the conversation flowing. "What makes you think that?" she asked, answering his question with a question.

"Well a young and attractive lady such as yourself sitting alone, isolated in a crowded place like this. To me that either says you're waiting for someone or you just like your own company and just want to be left alone. If such were the case, then you wouldn't have accepted my intrusion into your privacy!"

Raising an eyebrow, "You've come up with a fairly accurate perception for someone you've only just met," she said with a suspicious tone.

"Well these days it pays to be perceptive; you never know what dangerous secrets a person could be hiding from you!" he explained.

A flickering of her eyes told him he had her interest.

He turned for a moment to see his men as they talked to various young women. Rictus noticed him and tapped a finger on his cheek twice signaling a negative response. Both Brackis and Daedelis signaled the same response. Pellos and Michelle didn't seem to be having much luck either. Meanwhile, Donis drew a line across his cheek with his finger signaling to them of a possibility.

He turned back to his target who noticed nothing amiss as his interaction with his men had taken mere moments. He asked some more common questions. With these, he gathered a name... Mara, her age...twenty-four, and an occupation...a receptionist. Having studied basic interrogation techniques, Donis surmised the first two were true as she answered them quickly and without having to look elsewhere. The last answer she looked to her upper left indicating she was lying.

Also, it was betrayed by her hands, both palms were callused but of varying degrees, which told him that a variety of weapon hilts and grips had constantly been grasped in them. All these observations led him to believe with little contradiction that the woman sitting next to him was their Bloody Mary.

As he contemplated his next move, a thought came to him. Donis himself had looked at the reports of her previous crimes before they had left the apartment. In all instances, forensic evidence showed that it had been the victim leading her out to the back alleys or other quiet places.

She was waiting for him to lure her away from the crowd and victimise her... "So you still haven't answered my first question," he said.

She smiled as she answered with, "Well while I am waiting for a particular man, a particular type of man will do me for now!"

"Would I perhaps be that type of man?"

She leaned in close with her lips mere inches from his and asked him in a husky voice, "I don't know, are you?"

He grinned evilly. This was it, make or break time, his chance to get her without making a scene. The Slasher hadn't shown up yet so he would have to settle just for her...so be it.

He leaned in closer and whispered in her ear. "It's a bit too loud in here to find out; perhaps we should find a quieter place?" a tilt of his head indicating the back exit.

The grin that appeared on her face was both malicious and triumphant; the kind a wolf would give a rabbit it had cornered. Of course, she didn't expect that this rabbit was really a lion in disguise.

"Lead the way!" she said with an air of arrogance he could almost smell. Taking her by the hand, they exited the bar under his men's watchful eyes. The alley they walked into was dark and hazy from all the smoke fumes seeping out of the club. He pulled her forward and then pushed her against the wall of the club. Holding both of her hands up above her head, he kissed her.

There was no tenderness in it but a sort of hunger on both sides.

Then he felt pain as she bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed; he pulled back from her. A soft chuckle emanated from her as he heard her whisper.

"Oh, my dear little Slasher, did I hurt you?"

Donis grinned; he knew foreplay where he saw it, no matter how demented it was. He pulled out his combat knife and held it to her throat as he said. "Not as much as I could you," he leaned forward and kissed her neck.

"Hmmm, you don't disappoint, do you?" she said in an all too pleasurable tone that had to be fake.

"Not when it's one of my greatest fans!" he said in her ear. He then kissed her mouth to stop her from saying anything else. He felt her slip one of her hands out from the one he was restraining her with. Her next movement was seductive as well as purposeful. He felt her leg slide up his side. It felt good...but he smiled at her as he knew it was also bringing her concealed knife in range of her newly freed hand.

Her hand never made it to the boot top holding her knife. They both froze when they heard a voice coming from the entrance to the alley. "Well, well, get a load of this would ya', Riff !"

"Yeah bloody indecent it is! Having at each other in our alleyway!" answered a second voice.

A third said, "Man...look at her, dis one looks like a tasty treat!" Three shadowy figures detached themselves from dark corners of the alley. Two came from the entrance of the alley, a third from the shadows near the rear exit of the club.

"Sorry, boys, I've only got time for real men so piss off !" said Mara, as she and Donis separated.

"What?" said one of the first two, shocked at this insult.

"Get her!" he ordered his companion standing next to him. The second man jumped at her in an attempt to tackle her. She blocked the outstretched arms and produced a kick to the groin that brought him low. A knee to the face then finished him off. With a quick glance, she saw that Donis was fending off the third thug who was armed with a long metal pipe.

Her distraction gave the first man the time for one strike. An open hand slap connected with her face, which dislodged her glasses. Her glasses bounced on the hard cement ground and broke. The man stepped back when he saw the fury burning in her eyes. The man howled in pain as her clawed hand strike grabbed his groin, which changed to a high-pitched screech as she viciously twisted her hand.

She heard a dull thump and winced as she realised it was metal connecting with flesh. She looked at the man in her grip as she said, "Well so much for my first victim! I guess you and your friends will have to do!" With that, she head butted him and let him fall to the ground. She drew her knife as she spun to face the third man.

She watched in amazement as he flew through the air, screaming until he hit the alley's brick wall. There was a terrible crunch as the man's face hit the wall. He then slid down to the floor of the alley unconscious. It was then she saw Donis rubbing his wrist. The metal bar lay on the ground bent. Their eyes met and an understanding passed between them. The time for playful pretence was over. Now two hunters stood before one another and only one outcome could come from that.

She leapt forward into the air with a jumping kick. Donis noticed she had a good sense of balance, for after he dodged her attack she spun and kicked out at him as soon as she landed. It worked well as a way of warding him off from any counter attack.

She was fast too but she was no match for him. She came at him again, this time stabbing out with the knife. He merely rapped his knuckles on a pressure point on her forearm. The sharp and sudden pain made her drop the knife. It soon became a dull ache as the blade clattered to the floor. Frustration at not being able to hit him sent her into a frenzy. She ran in at him once again with a series of kicks and punches that would've decimated a normal opponent. Donis either blocked or evaded her attacks. Her last attack, a spinning kick to his face, was grabbed inches before it connected. He threw her leg away, spinning her off balance and sending her stumbling back.

Her back hit the wall behind her. As she went to stand up straight, she grasped a scrap piece of long hardwood. She swung at him with all her might. Donis lashed out at the impromptu weapon; his fist connecting with it. Mara was showered in splinters as his fist decimated the wood in mid-strike. Astonished by this act, Mara could only watch as Donis leaned back against the wall opposite her. He casually stood there and plucked splinters of wood out from in between his knuckles. Her eyes widened as she saw that the wounds, though only minor, had begun to seal themselves up. All that remained of the wounded areas were pinkish bits of skin.

"You're not human!" she exclaimed.

"Finally figured that one out, did you, Bloody Mary?" he teased with a small grin on his face.

Her eyes widened even further as he used her professional name.

"Well, Slasher, you're more troublesome than my usual victims, I'll give you that!" she said in mock bravado, which was greeted by his laughter.

"Who said I was the Slasher? Not good to assume, Mara!" He said, wagging a finger at her. "You're not..." she began, taken aback.

"I'm afraid not, just a very good actor!" he said, cutting her off mid-sentence and then began to chuckle.

She gasped when she saw his fangs.

"A vampire, is it? Well, I'll be ready for that next time!" She said as she reached for something behind her back.

"What makes you think there will be..."

Before he could finish, she had withdrawn a small throwing knife and flung it in his direction. It flew through the air to pin his hand to the wall. He looked down at his hand as he reached out and plucked it out. He turned to look at her only to see he was alone.

"... A next time."
CHAPTER 7

# Trials of the Heart

"You know, Captain, when you told me to prepare some bandages, I didn't realise you would be the one in need of patching up!" announced Father Harkon as he brought the bandages to Donis. Donis smiled; he sat in his apartment alone with the priest. He had left his men at the club to enjoy themselves.

"Neither did I, Padre; believe me, I wish it wasn't!" as he winced in pain. "So I thought you never missed, Captain?" Harkon said in humor.

"I didn't miss, Padre!" Donis answered with a confident smile. "But you didn't catch her!" Harkon pointed out.

"True, but she will come to me very soon!" he said in a matter-of-fact voice. "How..." Harkon began.

"With this!" he said, holding up the throwing knife. "This is going to bring her to me!"

"Really?" said Harkon with a voice heavy with sarcasm. Clearly, he thought Donis had lost the plot.

Donis merely smiled that annoying, confident smile. "You'll see tomorrow, Padre."

When she did come the next day, she wasn't dressed as a choirgirl; this time she was dressed to kill...

Donis was talking to Pellos in his apartment when there came a knock at the door. Pellos went to answer it. He opened the door only to see no one there. Not a microsecond later, Bloody Mary swung in from above the door. Her feet hit Pellos in the chest, sending him flat onto his back. She landed in front of him with a pistol aimed at Donis' head. She held up high a sharpened piece of wood in the other hand. She was wearing a streamlined dark red leather getup with a series of black buckles and holsters on it.

"Time for you and your friend to die, vampire!" she announced with a voice full of righteousness and a facial expression full of confidence. Her face changed to one of confusion as Donis started laughing at her.

"What's so funny, bloodsucker?" she asked with a little uncertainty at his complete lack of fear.

"Well firstly, you've been watching too many vampire flicks. That sharpened table leg won't kill a vampire. It lacks the special Latin incantation that banishes a vampire like this one," he said, holding up a beautifully hand-crafted wooden stake with writing engraved on it.

"Secondly, who said I was a vampire?"

"You're not a vampire?" it was then that she noticed he was standing in front of the window where the sun was shining through upon Donis' skin.

"What the hell are you then?" she demanded whilst throwing the wooden stake to the ground. "You tell me, Mara, if I'm not a serial killer or a vampire and I'm hunting you specifically, then what am I?" She didn't say anything so he added. "Think about what you saw last night and what I've said right now. Mara, think, don't assume. Think because it may be the last wrong assumption you make." His tone was more matter-of-fact rather than threatening.

After she thought about it for a few moments, he saw realisation come into her eyes. "Holy shit, you're a Templar, aren't you?"

He smiled and nodded as he said, "Yes, Mara, we're not rumours or bogeymen, we're real and we've been looking for you!"

Her voice was incredulous as she stuttered, "I...I just broke into two Templars apartments?"

"Well, actually, five Templars" he replied.

"What?" it was then that she noticed two red dots on her chest. Rictus and Daedelis stood in the doorways on either side of the room with their standard-issue Templar pistols aimed at her.

"Well I only see four and one of those is on his back!" she shot back at him, sounding like a defiant child amongst adults. She looked up as a loud thumping sound came from above her head. It started and then stopped just as suddenly.

"That would be Brackis aiming at you by listening to your voice." Mara felt a gust of wind hit her face.

"As for Pellos being on his back, well..." She looked down and saw the area in front of her vacant. It wasn't until he cleared his throat that she realised he was in the doorway behind her with his pistol aimed at her head.

She sighed in resignation as she said, "So now what happens?"

"Now you drop your weapons and surrender. Now is the time for you to assume they will shoot you if you don't," Donis said in an emotionless tone.

"Much as I've enjoyed your lessons, I'll have to decline!" She announced with a returning confidence and a large smirk across her face.

Confused by her change in attitude, Donis then saw she had her pistol aimed at the heating unit to her right. If she hit it, the explosion would be big enough to wipe them all out.

Donis became a blur of movement as a small object flew from his hand. The object impacted with her gun hand. Mara looked down at her hand as the pistol fell from it. She saw her own throwing knife embedded deep into her flesh.

"I guess that makes us even!" Donis said, holding out his bandaged hand. He removed the bandage to show only a small, healed scar where a gaping wound had been the day before. He grinned as he added, "More or less."

"You goddamn bastard!" she screamed as she drew a hooked short sword with a barbed edge with her uninjured hand. She took several frantic swipes at him, which never came close to hitting. Exhausted and feeling faint from her wound, she fell forward into his arms, her head slamming onto his chest. He felt tears fall onto his chest; he looked down at her as she looked up at him. Her eyes locked onto his, her gaze unwavering. He smiled. She was tired and beaten and yet still defiant. He could kill her with ease, but he wouldn't. He shook his head and she understood. It was then he felt the cold steel of her blade on the side of his neck. She had reached up from behind him, concealing her movements. She smiled at him as he heard the sword clatter to the floor.

"Now we're even!" she said as she held his look for a few more moments, then her eyes rolled up and she went limp as she finally fainted.

"I'm confused, Captain," announced Father Harkon a few hours later. "What about Padre?" Donis asked him.

"Firstly, how did you know she would come?"

"The throwing knife," he said as he held it up with the jewelled hilt shining brilliantly. "There's a tracking device in the jewel. What else?"

"How is it that your hand has healed already?"

"Inside every Templar are tiny healing nano-machines that resemble tiny metallic spiders.

They travel through the blood stream to sites of injury."

"Lastly, why did you let her live after she tried to kill you?"

"I don't know, Padre, that's the truth, I honestly don't know," he said as he walked away to his bedroom.

"Why did I spare you?" he asked himself as he looked at the resting figure on his bed. "Perhaps you're fond of her?" Pellos said over his shoulder as he stood with Rictus behind him.

Donis turned to them. "Don't you think it a bit discourteous to interrupt a man when he's talking to himself?"

"Well, it is the first sign of insanity, our poor confused brother," answered Rictus.

"Well in answer to your statement, Pel, how would I know? I wasn't created for those kinds of feelings," he said with an almost bitter tone. He then entered his bedroom and left them behind.

Mara awoke with a start; she winced at the pain in her hand. She saw Donis standing nearby watching her.

"Why am I still alive?" she asked. Her tone was more curious than fearful.

"I've been asking myself that same question. I think...you touched a chord in me. Your courage was impressive. Even though you knew you had no chance against us, you still tried to win. You at first thought me a vampire and a monster. When you discovered what I was, you seemed to change your stance. Also, when you had your blade to my neck, you could've killed me. You are the first human ever to get that close to me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She nodded with slight uncertainty.

"Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?" he asked her. "I think because I don't view you as a monster or some bogeyman."

"Yes, that's right. Even now laying there wounded with the knowledge of what I am you hold no fear of me. I must thank you for all that you've given me, something no one else has."

"What is that?" she asked.

"To feel like an ordinary human being, not something I have to hide from most people." She finally got it.

"You are human, granted your abilities make you exceptional but they are not the defining points of your humanity. Your heart and your mind are. You showed compassion for me, not only in your actions but I saw it in your eyes. That's a very human trait and plus..." she added with a smile, "I wouldn't be having this conversation with some mindless automaton of destruction or a monster!"

He smiled at her and bowed his head in thanks.

Rictus came into the room, whispered something into his ear, and then left them alone once again. She saw his features harden and sensed the anger rising in him but they softened as he continued. "With this small conversation, you've given me so much more than others I've known for a lifetime. You have treated me like one of your own. No one aside from my Templar brothers has done that. Although I still feel separated from them as they do not share my views on feeling separated from humanity. I've often wondered if perhaps I was born with a fault. Not even the Padre can view me as you do. True, he holds us in awe and not fear. But it is still the same feeling of not belonging; of being alone in a world of millions."

His words touched her like nothing else had and once again tears formed in her eyes.

"I am grateful for it and now I must ask you a favour. How did you locate your vict... targets?"

She told him of after hunting down one of her victims and searching her home. She discovered an Internet chat room full of those types who would converse with one another. Murderers, rapists, paedophiles; all scum of the earth that would converse and occasionally meet. She posed as her last victim, a serial killer called 'Miss Distress.' She had used this method successfully five other times and organised a meet with the Slasher.

"You know the story from there on!" she said with a mischievous grin. "So why do you ask?"

He sighed as he answered her, "It seems that while you and I were tangoing in the alley, the real Slasher did accept your invitation and left a victim in an empty storage area behind the bar."

The grin melted away from her face, "Who was she?"

"The club's bar assistant, a twenty-year-old girl," he said in a sombre tone.

She bowed her head in sadness, "It's my fault."

He walked over to her, reached out and raised her chin with his finger so she looked at him. "No, Mara, it's not. It was ours but we can make it right."

"I want you to help us bring this animal in. Send another invitation to him and meet with him. We'll be there ready for him. You'll have your justice for this girl and if you agree to help us we will help you."

"How so?" she asked him.

"If you don't help us you go to face your trial before the courts. In all likelihood, you will be found guilty and executed. If you do help us, you still go to trial. Releasing you isn't an option; we can't betray the Templar order. I will speak in your defence and try to convince them to hand down a lenient sentence. She looked into his eyes and saw neither lies nor deceit, only truth.

She nodded as she said, "Alright, I'll do it."

Later that night, they stood outside the apartment building his unit was in. They had spent the last few hours talking, discussing themselves, their lives. She told him about her life before and after taking up her current profession. He, on the other hand, let her in on secrets about him that no one knew. He was astounded at the fact that he would tell her these things even though he hardly knew her.

The ATV swung in around the corner and stopped in front of them. "Daedelis will take you home."

She did a double take, "Wait, how do you know where I live?" she shook her head and chuckled. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

After she left, he spent a few minutes looking down the road the ATV had gone. He shook his head and bowed it in sadness. She wasn't going to understand. He then trudged back into his unit. After Daedelis had left her, Mara entered her two-storey apartment. The girl's death made her want to stay. She didn't bother turning on any lights in the dimly lit living room. She collapsed onto her couch and closed her eyes. The last few days had been exhausting and in moments, she was drifting off to sleep. Perhaps if she weren't in such a tired state she would've noticed the draft coming from the open kitchen window.

A dark shadow stalked through the kitchen and continued into the living room. A taloned hand reached out for the figure sleeping on the couch. The unknowing victim didn't awaken until the hand gripped her neck. A thumb talon was pressed against her throat to stop her from moving. Her eyes snapped open as did her mouth, but a finger was placed upon it.

"Shhhh, my sweet," whispered a soft, sibilant voice as the thumb talon pressed harder on her throat as a warning. She flinched and hissed in pain as a talon slid along her cheek. Half a heart had been cut into her smooth skin when the lights flicked on. She saw Donis standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen. His armour gleamed in the light as he stood there. He was like a knight in shining armour.

The midnight attacker stood upright and approached him. He was a short and squat figure with roughly cut black hair. He was wearing an assortment of dark clothing that was ripped and torn in most places.

"Mara, get out of here now. The others are outside!" She got up and slowly backed away from her attacker. She opened the door, stepped through swiftly and slammed it shut behind her.

The would-be stalker swiped his clawed hands at Donis. The first he blocked as he did the second. He countered with a low kick to the inside of the thigh, making his opponent stumble back. Donis swept in and grabbed a tall lamp with a long steel tubing base. He smashed one of his opponent's hands with his impromptu weapon. The lampshade and light were knocked clean off, exposing the end of the tube. He ducked one last swipe, dashed in and impaled his attacker through the stomach. Enough strength had been used to send the steel shaft into the wall behind him. He watched the man lash out in his last death throws until he stilled. He hung suspended two feet off the ground; the hatred burning in his eyes died with him. Donis studied his dead adversary. He then froze. He looked at the man's hands and saw that they weren't carrying clawed weapons. Vile-looking talons actually grew out from his fingers. Seeing this made him remember a previous conversation. "He usually leaves a letter of poetry..." Looking at the deformed fingers, he realised this man couldn't have written the poem and that meant...

The apartment door shattered and Donis stepped out only to find he was too late. The man in the hallway was tall, skinny and bald. He looked much like a schoolteacher; an impression disrupted by the knife he held against Mara's throat.

"From your appearance, I take it the dwarf is dead. Good, the little creep was cramping my style!"

"Who are you?" Donis asked, already knowing the answer.

"I am the Slasher, the toad you dispatched was my accomplice. Or perhaps I should say my lackey. You know, someone to do the dirty work for me." Seeing Donis' confusion, he continued, "It was a simple enough arrangement; I'd write, he'd mutilate, and we'd both enjoy the spoils." He saw Donis' hand edge for his pistol and smiled.

"I know what you're thinking; could you draw your gun and kill me before I slit her throat?"

"There's only one way to find out!" answered Donis with an icy-cold voice.

The man known as the Slasher tensed, adding pressure to the knife he was holding. A small bead of blood fell from Mara's neck. Suddenly, his chest exploded as a Templar pistol went off. Mara couldn't believe it, Donis had barely twitched. His gun was now back in its holster and yet the man beside her was dead.

"I didn't even see you draw your pistol!" she said with a voice full of disbelief. "That's because I didn't," he added, looking over her shoulder.

"Thanks, Dae."

She turned to see Daedelis' pistol drawn and smoking.

Daedelis nodded and walked away. She looked down at the dead man.

"I can't understand it...How could he have known where I live? He must've known who I was..." It was then she looked over at Donis and saw the guilty expression on his face.

"You son of a bitch, you knew!" she said before she took off down the hall to a staircase leading to the roof.

Donis followed but then stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He turned and saw his men behind him.

"Well?" he asked.

"Go after her, Don," Pellos answered.

"And say what, Pel? Sorry you thought something was there but I was only doing my job?"

"Nice try, but you can't hide that you have feelings for her. No more than you can hide the fact that doing what you did hurt you more than anything else has," Rictus countered.

Donis smiled sadly at them before he turned to run up the staircase. He reached the top and opened the door leading to the roof. He stepped out in time to be greeted by a thick iron bar. It whacked him across the back of his head. He stumbled forward and leapt away to avoid another blow.

"You miserable bastard!" she yelled at him with another swipe.

"You lied to me; I actually thought someone was starting to care about me!" another swipe. "You set me up and used me as bait!" another swipe.

"I did it because I do care!" he said as he ducked another swing at his head.

"You're right, I did lie and set you up but not for the reason you think. In his last victim, he carved in your name...your actual name, Mara, not your cover. He knew who you were. It was only a matter of time before he knew where you lived. I wanted to catch him before he got you. I had to do it this way. Also, if I told you, you would've gone after him and gotten yourself killed. I couldn't live with that if it happened."

She lowered the pole a fraction, "Why?"

"More than anyone in this world I don't want anything to happen to you. I care more about you than I thought possible."

Just when it looked as if all the fight had gone out of her. Her eyes hardened...

"Liar!" she screamed as she leveled the pole to chest height and thrust it like a spear. He twisted his body to dodge it. He then slapped down on it, knocking it out of her hands.

"Come on, Mara, stop this, you know you can't win, don't do anything rash" he said as she approached him again.

He backed away from her. He kept doing so until his feet had reached the edge of the rooftop. A wild and feral grin appeared on her features as she said, "Well you know we humans don't think rationally when our emotions are involved!" With that said she launched a step-in side kick at him, of which he slipped out of the way. He turned to see her twist and try to regain her balance and fail. Lastly, he saw the terror-filled look on her face as she fell off the rooftop.

Donis didn't think he just reacted, with a blistering burst of speed he launched himself off the roof. He managed to get a hold of her shoulders before she had fallen less than a meter. He swung her around so that he was now underneath her.

Time seemed to slow as they looked into one another's eyes. She couldn't believe it, he'd thrown himself off the rooftop to save her. As she looked into his eyes, she saw it all. The emotional vulnerability, the guilt of his betrayal, and saw something else but what was...

Then they hit the ground; before they had hit he drew her into a tight embrace. The impact was as hard and shocking as it was sudden and both of them were winded by their heavy landing.

She slowly stood up. A worried and panicked look came upon her face when he didn't budge and just stared up. Rictus was at his side a moment later. He felt under Donis' chest armour and around the ribs area.

"A broken rib or two," he announced as he helped Donis to his feet.

"Really, genius? I would never have guessed! Are you sure?" Donis asked sarcastically but obviously in pain as he winced. In response, Rictus cruelly jabbed a finger into Donis' side, who grunted in pain as Rictus said with a grin.

"Yep, pretty sure!"

Mara stepped up to him and asked only one question. "Why?"

Donis thought about it for a moment and then smiled.

"I guess because we humans don't think rationally when our emotions are involved."

Before he could say or do anything, she jumped at him. As her lips touched his, it felt as if an electric current had just passed through his body. Donis wasn't a romantic. The world didn't spin on its axis around them. Nor did time freeze for what seemed like an eternity but this small act shocked him to his very core.

She hugged him, laying her head on his chest plate. Suddenly unsure of himself, he slowly and gently placed his arms around her. He looked over to Rictus who rolled his eyes and walked away. When he was out of hearing range, she asked another question.

"Tell me, why me?"

Although not a romantic, Donis had the skills of a poet and would use it as a sort of self therapy in his spare time. An ironic circumstance but he would be the first to say, 'I write poetry, I don't live it!'

He recited a piece from one of his poems.

"The pain I feel is great but I must go on though myself I bemoan.

For I am one man in a world of billions and yet I still feel alone."

He pushed her back so he could look into her eyes.

"That's why, Mara, because in the time I've spent with you, short as it has been, I have never felt like that before. In the last two days, I've not once felt alone."

Standing there in the middle of the road, she finally realised what she had seen as they fell. It was something that she thought impossible. That someone could feel for her or that she could in turn feel for them. For even as she thought about it, she knew she did. Whatever their individual fates, she knew hers would be entwined with this wonderful and mysterious man. She was mixed up; she felt joy that someone could feel for her. Yet she despaired that this fantastic feeling was going to end up costing her life.

It was one week to that very day that Mara found herself in the court stand awaiting her fate. She looked back on the last week she had spent with Donis under his 'supervision.' In the short time they had they'd become lovers. A passionate yet caring bond had formed between them. Donis allowed her past the defences he had up to keep the outside world from hurting him. She in return allowed him to get closer than anyone had ever been. His friends had accepted her and one might even say had become fond of her. Now on this fateful day, it was all going to end.

The lawyer put in charge of her defence had done as good a job as was possible. Alas, her act of assisting the Templar order couldn't counteract her previous crimes.

"Please stand," ordered a delegate of the judge's panel.

"Marana Siranos, also known as the criminal 'Bloody Mary.' You have been found guilty of thirty counts of unsanctioned criminal executions. The high judges of this court hearing have decided the sentence of said crimes will be the death penalty. However, this panel has taken into account your assistance. Due to your help in the sanctioned execution of the serial killer known as the Slasher, we have decided to be lenient. So it is with regret that I must still announce that a life so young must be cut short. You are hereby sentenced to die by Electro Coronary Closure."

Mara closed her eyes; she was going to die. True, she wouldn't feel much as an electric impulse would be sent through her body to shut down her heart. I'm still going to die though, she heard a small little voice in her head say. She thought of Donis, no dashing heroics this time; he couldn't betray his order. Perhaps the last week in which she had taken in so much is the reason she felt no anger toward him.

The delegate continued, "This sentence will be carried out immediately. Unless there is one among you who wishes to champion her cause?"

There were a few moments of silence. Her eyes snapped open when she heard Donis' voice. "I will champion her cause. I will face the trial of champions!" An intake of breath followed his announcement, which was followed by loud chattering as the crowded court broke its silence.

"Order...Order...We will have order please," announced the delegate. He then continued to address Donis.

"You understand, Captain, what you are doing?" Donis nodded in answer.

"Very well. Prepare him!"

Mara was taken by Pellos to the entrance of the trial room. She watched as Donis was stripped of his armour and left bare chested, waiting to be allowed in.

"He truly must love you," said Pellos in awe. "How do you know that?" she asked him.

"Because he is willing to die for you!"

"What is the trial of champions?"

Pellos took in a deep breath before answering, "We don't know; no one is allowed to witness it." He paused to sigh. "What we do know is that twenty Templar's have attempted it. Ten of those have succeeded in saving their charge's life. Of those ten, only one has survived the trial and he's over there."

She turned to see Grandmaster Tyrius talking to Donis. The younger Templar then turned to look at her. The smile on his face greeted her terrified look. He then entered the doorway and was gone.

Donis had listened as Tyrius spoke to him. He spoke of how proud he was of him. That he was a symbol for all the future generations to see. He put his hand on Donis' shoulder as he asked, "Are you sure about this, my son?"

Donis turned to look at Mara and saw her anguish at his decision. He smiled as he answered, "Yes, Master, I am."

"Then God be with you, my son, for I wish I could tell you what you are about to face but cannot." Donis bowed to him, walked to the entrance and looked up at the door he was about to enter.

Above the door, he saw a Latin inscription that read,

'When faced by death remember and know who you are and you shall prevail.'

He entered into a hallway, where a ghostly figure greeted him.

"Hello, Captain, I am Tempus. I will be your guide for the trials." He was a tall, thin man in carefully tailored clothes. He looked like an olden-day English gentleman.

"You shall face three challenges. The first is the search for truth," he opened a door ahead of them. The room ahead showed a flat pathway bridge leading to another door, and on either side of the bridge was a dark abyss.

"Simply walk the path to the door ahead and know the truth."

Donis studied the path for a moment then smiled. He stepped off to the side into the abyss; instead of falling, he felt solid ground. He walked across to the door without once touching the path. When he reached the other door, he stepped back onto the path. He found Tempus there waiting for him.

"Excellent, Captain, how did you know?" he asked.

"The road for truth is not always the one set ahead of you." With that said, he opened the door and then ripped off the handle. He saw a new one grow back onto the door. He threw the one in his hand onto the path. As soon as it hit the floor, bolts shot from both sides of the corridor. One hundred bolts were unleashed along the length of the corridor. Not a moment later, three large axe-like blades swung from the roof all the way from Donis to the beginning of the path.

"Ouch!" Donis said, cringing.

"Not exactly the words your three brothers who failed this test used," Tempus said with a grin.

All seriousness returned to his countenance. "The next challenge is the search for justice."

Donis entered the room and walked to the center of it. As he stood there, three ghostly apparitions appeared around him. Their voices filtered throughout the room in creepy whispers.

"Is your cause just...Do you belong here...You will fail...She will die...Is she worth it... Does she deserve to live..."

As one brushed past him, he felt a deep chill. He knew they could kill him just by their touching. Their questions echoed continuously in his mind. It dawned on him that they were testing him and his faith in his cause. He knew now if he faltered they were both dead.

"I am a Grey Templar, my mission is just, my cause worthy. My charge indeed does deserve to live and no one will be able to convince me otherwise!" After his words, they hesitated and then bowed to him. He went to the final door to once again find Tempus standing there.

"A fine speech, Captain, it was very touching and straight from your heart."

"How do you know that?" Donis asked.

"They wouldn't have let you live otherwise," answered Tempus. "Now you face your final challenge. It is called the four deaths," he announced as he opened the door.

"Sounds cosy!" Donis said as he entered the room, which was empty save for a chain that hung from the ceiling.

"You will experience death in its purest forms. You will suffer pain unlike anything you have ever felt before. If you wish, you can pull this chain and the pain will cease. However, if you choose to do so, you will die instantly as will your charge. The deaths are based on elements in this world that cause death and destruction. The first you will face is fire..."

It was then as Tempus' voice faded away that Donis noticed he was alone. A fire built up on the ground about six feet away from his position. With a burst of movement, it travelled around until he was surrounded by a ring of fire. Occasionally, it would burst again and close in on him; the circle thickening with each burst. First, the heat hit him with almost unbearable discomfort. The discomfort was forgotten as the fire made contact and his skin began to blister. He screamed unashamedly at the excruciating pain as the fire travelled around his body. Soon the smoke from his burns choked up his throat so much so that he could no longer scream. Just as he felt he could take no more, he faded into darkness as the smoke inhalation took its toll and he finally fainted.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was in the center of the room again. The fire was gone but he knew it was no dream. The stench of burnt flesh and faint burn marks on parts of his body confirmed it.

He heard Tempus' voice say, "Now water."

A second revelation came to him. The room was fast filling with water. Already it was up to his waist. Mere minutes later, he was at the very ceiling of the room taking his last intake of air. The longest time for a normal human being to hold was four minutes. He lasted eight minutes. In the eighth minute, his lungs started to fail. His panic grew as he realised he wasn't going to get out, he was going to die. Panic-stricken, he thrashed about wildly, forcing the remaining air from his lungs. He slowed and became sluggish. He felt something touch him. It was the chain. His dimmed mind could grasp the concept that if he pulled it he would be saved. As he reached out for it, an image of Mara laying dead on the ground with his friends around her entered his mind. He pulled his hands away, hugging his body with them, and accepted he was going to drown. His vision finally faded to darkness.

Once again, he found himself in the center of the room, this time drenched from head to toe and shivering uncontrollably. He noticed a faint wind start to blow. He couldn't detect the direction it was coming from as it seemed to change every few seconds.

"Is this all?" he challenged.

No sooner had he spoken when the wind increased in strength by which he was standing still but his feet were sliding along the ground. The wind howled as it reached out to pluck him off the ground and dash him against the wall behind. It then changed direction and smashed him against another wall breaking and bruising his body. It continued until he had met each of the four walls. He then collided with the floor and then the ceiling as a twister threw him up. He drew back up onto his feet slowly. He could barely stand on his battered and broken bones.

"Can't you do better than that? I've farted stronger winds!"

He heard a noise and turned to see metal spikes slide out of the wall behind him. "Uh oh," he uttered as he realised what was about to happen.

A large gust of wind blew him off his feet and he flew back onto the wall. The pain was indescribable as he was impaled and left hanging four feet above the ground just as the pain became so intense that tears fell down his face. His head dipped and darkness came once again as his eyes closed.

When he opened them, he was in the center of the room burnt, wet and bruised with healed stab wounds pockmarking his body. A more wretched sight could never have been seen.

"Excellent, Captain, you have reached the final death," Tempus said as he appeared out of thin air.

An armed soldier in military attire walked in. He aimed a pistol at his beloved Mara. He hadn't even noticed her until now. She was tied to a wooden stake coming out of the ground.

"I don't understand," Donis said to Tempus with a questioning look on his face.

Tempus smiled a sad smile as he said, "Well what other force on earth can cause enough death and destruction to match the previous elements? No other force but man!" Now this is what will happen. One bullet will be fired from his gun straight at her heart. This is where you make a choice. If she dies, you both die. If you, on the other hand, take the bullet, you will die but she will live. Either one is a decision you must accept, now choose!"

Donis appeared to be thinking about it for a moment; he then straightened his back and walked resolutely in front of Mara.

"I have made my decision!" he announced.

"So be it," Tempus replied without a trace of any emotion in his voice.

The gun fired. The bullet travelled straight toward Donis' chest. A microsecond before it hit, he swivelled his body out of the way. His hand then shot out to snatch up the bullet in mid-air. With his clenched fist held before him, he approached the gunman.

"I am a Captain of the Grey Templars. I may be bowed and broken by the powers of the elements for they are immortal and their power infinite. We were created to save man from himself! When would we ever accept death at the hands of a normal human being?" The bullet fell from his hand to clatter on the ground. He looked up as it lay still to see he stood alone with Tempus who approached him, clapping his hands in applause.

"Congratulations, Captain, you passed! How did you figure it out?" Tempus said as a wide grin formed on his face.

Donis smiled as he replied, "The plate outside, I remembered the Templar creed we are taught.

We ever will be the seekers of truth...We serve as the enforcers of justice...We do God's bidding with an uncompromising will...We are the Grey Templar.

It just all seems to fit into place."

Tempus bowed his head as he said, "It was an honour to be your guide, Captain Donis, goodbye." With that said, he faded from view.

"Goodbye, Tempus," Donis said as he opened and entered the final door ahead of him. He found himself back at the entrance to the trial of champions' chamber. He approached Tyrius who had a warm fatherly smile on his face.

"I knew you'd make it," he said to him.

"I know why you couldn't tell me anything about the trial," Donis said, looking into his master's eyes.

Tyrius placed his hand on Donis' shoulder. "Yes, it is a burden not for the shoulders of others who have not yet walked that path. You personally have saved another's life as well as found yourself and I am so proud of you, my son."

After bowing to Tyrius, Donis walked over to his friends. As he made his way to them, he could sense something had changed in him but couldn't put his finger on what.

Back at the apartment, they were talking at his dining table. As usual, Daedelis was asleep in Donis' room. The court had changed the verdict to serving the Templar order for ten years under the supervision of Captain Donis and his squad.

"So what do you think of your new situation?" Donis asked Mara.

"I'm alive, that's what counts! What about you?" she asked, taking a sip from a glass of water.

"I think you jumped from the frying pan into the fire."

"Speaking of fires," Rictus cut in. "I think I smell Brac's cooking; Mara, could you go wake up Dae?"

"Sure!" she said as she moved into Donis' room. She still held her glass of water. Both Donis and Harkon shook their heads at Rictus as he grinned.

A huge mighty yelp echoed out from the room. As Mara exited, they noticed her glass of water was empty. A pillow flew from the room and smacked Rictus in the face. When Daedelis came out wet and shivering, they all burst into laughter. Donis took Mara into his arms and said, "Like I said, you're in the fire but you, my dear, will do just fine."

Looking at her, he realised what had changed. He felt pride at what he was. He no longer felt it was something he wanted to hide. It was her company that had held this feeling at bay but the trial had erased it. Yet still, his feelings for her remained. He couldn't understand that and for once in his life he was happy not to. Some things were not meant to be known nor needed explanation. His love for her was one of those things.
CHAPTER 8

# Vampire Nest

Beep, beep...Beep, beep...Donis' eyes slowly blinked open at the insistent sound. He reached out and grasped the wrist communicator that was lying on his bedside table. He pressed a button and then spoke out loud.

"Hello?"

Mara awoke next to him as he seemed to be talking to himself.

"Yes...Uh huh...Okay..." he sighed as he continued with, "Yes, we'll be there within the hour."

Then it hit her that he was talking to someone. When she saw the wristband in his hand, she understood how.

The Dynamex Communicator 2200 was a device available to the affluent members of society and military organisations. Apparently, the Templar order had access to these state-of-the-art communication devices too. The DC2200 incorporates advanced nano-technology surgically implanted into its user's body. The hearing piece was attached to the middle ear. This meant that the user and only the user could hear his call. The receiver was attached inside the neck on the throat, where it could pick up the vibrations of the user's voice box as they spoke. The wristband was just a way of answering a call. The band also had a second use in the case of any military associated purposes. It could be switched over from being an on-body phone to a radio communicator; perfect for military squads such as the Grey Templars to keep in touch when on a mission.

Donis clicked another button on the wristband to hang up the communicator. He smiled when he saw her awake.

"Sleep well?" he asked as he leaned into kiss her.

"Well enough," she answered him. "Who was that?" she asked. "The order!" he answered.

She saw him flick another switch on the wristband, which she assumed switched it to a radio communicator.

"Rise and shine, children. Time to go to work!"

A cacophony of moans and profanities greeted his announcement. He rolled over to see Mara watching him.

"Starting work at two o'clock in the morning? I envy you!" she said with a voice full of sarcasm and an impish grin.

"Well you shouldn't...Cause you're coming with us." His grin matched hers as he stroked her face.

"Aghhh! You mean bastard, you took pleasure in that!" she said as she swatted his hand away. All the while, he chuckled evilly.

"Do I at least have time for a shower?" she asked.

"Why do you think I said we'd be an hour?" he answered. "Oh really?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Actually, it's more for Pel and Ric's benefit. You see, it must be the cat in them; they just love to primp and pamper themselves whenever they're getting ready. This usually leaves the rest of us waiting for them — for quite a while."

She stood up and went to the adjoining bathroom door. She turned and struck a seductive pose. Then in a deep, husky voice asked, "Are you coming?"

A big wide grin was his answer. He tossed off the covers. She watched as they flew up in the air. When she looked back down, he was gone. It was then she heard the shower turn on. She turned to see him waiting for her in the shower.

"Ready when you are," he said with a boyish grin on his face. As she closed the door behind her, their laughter could be heard throughout the unit.

Approximately one-and-a-half hours later, they all sat at a clean metal-slab table watching a large projected image showing a map of the area known as Central.

An orderly pointed out a particular part of the map. "How many?" Donis asked him.

"Thirty missing so far," the orderly answered.

"Thirty! Why weren't we told sooner?" asked Pellos in shock of this revelation.

"Because, sir, it's only been happening in the last two days!"

Silence fell on the group at this announcement.

Pellos turned to Donis, "What do you think, Captain? Vampires?" Donis nodded with uncertainty. "Yeah, but it doesn't make sense."

"What do you mean, Captain?" asked Harkon.

"Well, Padre, vampires tend to keep their victim numbers low and spread throughout different city areas. They do this so as not to arouse suspicion as to their nest's location. Usually, we can never find them this easily unless..."

He looked to the orderly, "Were there any bodies?"

The clerk checked a report he had in his hands, "Aaaah...No, Captain, no bodies have been found!" he said as he looked up from the report.

"Damn!" Donis said as he slammed his fist on the table, forcing a few of its contents to jump.

"What's the matter, Don...Captain?" Mara asked. She saw how everyone else was maintaining formalities whilst in the orderly's presence. Donis noticed her struggle and dismissed the orderly, who was glad to leave in the wake of Donis' rising anger.

After the orderly had left, he turned to Mara and said, "The problem with the absence of bodies means that these vampires aren't only feeding, they're turning their victims as well. Basically, someone is putting a small but powerful army together and quickly. It means we're going to have a busy night tonight. With them outnumbering us six to one, the odds are slightly in their favour."

"Why not take more men?" Mara asked.

"Well the number-one reason for not taking the other units is that they have their own duties. I checked already. There are no other units available tonight. Every day or night they're going at it. It's either a vampire nest, a cultist coven, a demon, a serial killer, unsanctioned mystics I could go on for days. The world has gone to hell and for every bit of evil we vanquish, more just seem to be waiting to pop up. It's just like a blazing inferno and we're the droplets of water expected to put it out."

The bitterness in his voice was almost palpable. Both Mara and Harkon could understand his frustration. Evil was eternal. Even when he died, whether it be in action or of old age, evil will still be here. They could see how his efforts could be thought of as futile, even when they were not.

As if reading their minds, he said, "We may not be able to stop it but at least we can hold it at bay. This is more than could be claimed before the situation first came about."

After a big intake of breath, he continued, "The second reason coincides with the first. There are not enough of us. The clergy limits our numbers for the purpose of protecting humanity."

Seeing their confusion, he went on with asking them, "Do you know how many Templars there are in Australia?"

Mara and Harkon shook their heads in a negative fashion.

"One thousand. There are four fortresses like Humanity's Haven in Australia. Stationed at each is two hundred and fifty Templars and equal that number of Initiates and students. You see, when man created us, he created a solution to a problem. He also, in that moment, created a force capable of conquering the earth for itself."

He took a deep breath and continued, "What the clergy discovered was when hell decided to make its big entrance so long ago, it did it via ancient gateways. The gateways are direct links to the plane of existence known as hell. They can only be opened by the dark one or one of his more powerful minions but at any time. So when a minor demon has its followers summon it to our realm, it's on the behest of a more powerful demon lord. We know of only four gateways that exist and a Templar fortress was placed at each of them. We expect that there are more out there but we will eventually find them and deal with them.

"Each fortress is equal in number so that if one fortress were to turn heretic then there are equal-sized forces to combat it.

"The last reason is that in order to organise when Templar squads work together on assignment, we need his Holiness' permission and we don't have the time. This needs to be done now!"

He paused as to allow all this information to be taken in by Mara and Harkon. "That is why we, as in the people present right now, are going to face off against an entire vampire coven tonight."

"Why at night?" asked Mara. "Wouldn't it make more sense to attack during the day when they are vulnerable?"

Donis nodded as he answered, "A good question. Indeed, during the day they are vulnerable. That's why they hide in the hours of daylight. Like I said, they're good at hiding. We'll never find them that way. But on the plus side, they need to feed regularly. Whether it is on people, livestock or even the rats that roam the sewers! They come out at night to feed and then they are confident and hungry. This means they are more likely to fall for the bait we set for them."

"Bait? What bait?" asked Mara.

At that question, they all turned to look at her.

Realisation dawned on her and she rolled her eyes as she said, "Oh crap!"

"Welcome to the Grey Templars, sweetie!" Donis announced with a nervous smile on his face.

But she could see the fear in his eyes.

## The Bait

The girl ran for all she was worth. Her pursuer, while he seemed to be walking, kept pace with her. His movements had a weird trail-like effect, like he was moving too fast from one place to another for her eyes to catch up.

Although he could've easily overtaken her, he kept his distance, almost as if he was herding her somewhere. Too late did she realise the ambush that had been set for her. The vampire had been sitting on top of a shopfront cover. As she passed beneath him, he reached down from up top, grabbing the back of her jacket. Her feet fell straight out from under her. As she fell, he used her weight to pull him down from his perch.

He landed nimbly as a cat while still maintaining his grip on her. He flung her down the alley so hard that she slid after she landed. She stopped at the feet of two waiting vampires.

"Nice," one said in a sibilant voice as the other leaned in close toward her and took a deep inhale of her scent.

He shuddered with the pleasure of it as he said. "Mmm...Can you smell that fear?" His face was mere inches from her own, his grin revealing his fangs.

It's amazing what features you notice when you're moments from death, thought Mara as she was confronted by those jaws of death. Both men wore similar clothing: black pants with dark-coloured tops. Although one was wearing a turtleneck and the other a shirt, they both wore the same black leather jackets that came down to mid-thigh. Mara closed her eyes and just had the one same thought travelling through her head: I'm gonna die...I'm gonna die...I'm gonna die...'

"Yes you are, but not just yet," said the vampire in her face as if he had heard her thoughts. He ran his finger along her face, picking up a small bead of blood that had dripped down from a tiny cut on her forehead, which she had received when she was thrown to the ground.

The vampire put his finger to his tongue and said, "With such a tasty morsel, we like to take our time." This brought an evil laugh from his companion, which he joined until their laughter echoed throughout the alleyway.

As he came closer, the second vampire stopped and tilted his head as if listening to something. The first vampire copied this action. It was strange, she thought, as she couldn't hear anything and there it was. The sound was a roar. It was non-stop. Soft at first but building in volume as if its source were getting closer. As she turned to the opening of the alley, she saw the source of the sound.

A heavily armoured form burst out of the darkness into the light of the alleyway's lamps. It was Donis coming at them like a thunderbolt.

Donis didn't slow down as he charged forward with so much vigor that it looked as if he was going to run right over and trample Mara. He leapt into the air just before he reached her. As he travelled over her head, he launched a vicious split kick at the two vampires. There was a sickening crunch as his heavily booted foot crushed one of the vampire's nose.

The vampire's damage began repairing itself. Even though he was practically immortal, the vampire wasn't immune to pain caused by the nasty blow. As he stumbled back, clutching his broken nose, his companion fared little better. The second vampire reeled back as Donis planted his other foot square into its chest. Several ribs cracked from the force of the blow. Donis wasn't finished. The vampire bounced off the wall behind and fell toward him. Before it could react, he stabbed it through the heart with one of the holy-inscribed Templar stakes he'd previously shown Mara.

The result was not short from amazing as the power of the incantations inscribed on the stake battled against the ancient evil magic binding the vampire to this realm. The vampire's body shuddered with the fury of an internal battle. Eventually, the evil binding magic was overcome and a bright cleansing fire erupted from its heart, coursing its way through all the veins and connecting arteries. Its body was entirely consumed by the mystic flames until all that remained were its bones, which fell to the ground as ashes as they were also eventually consumed.

Donis swiftly whipped around, drawing his bolt launcher as he faced his second foe. The other vampire still clutching its ruined nose did not see the first blow. As Donis smashed the reinforced structure of the bolt launcher into its mid-section, the vampire bowed over and clutched the new site of pain in time for the second blow. Donis came around full circle to land another blow to his opponent's already ruined nose. The vampire's eyes squeezed shut from the immense pain erupting from its face. It was then it felt a hand clamp down on its shoulder. The vampire knew it was over as it felt the cold and hard exterior of a Templar gauntlet dig into its shoulder.

Donis pulled the vampire down, while at the same time he rammed the bolt launcher up, so that it was now pressed firmly against its chest. He pulled the trigger and a smaller inscribed wooden stake punched through to the foul beast's un-beating heart. The bolt hit with such force the vampire's body jerked violently upward, breaking from even Donis' considerable grip. He watched as its body combusted the same large bright flame that its companions had. The vampire's body was ash before it hit the ground.

Donis offered his hand to Mara and helped her to her feet.

"You did well. They really believed they had you," Donis remarked.

"They weren't the only ones." It was then as she was made to walk past him that he realised how shaken she was by the whole experience.

He gathered her into his arms, holding her head to his chest. "Hey, it's alright. You know I wouldn't have let anything happen to you."

"But you used me as a pawn. Pawns are invariably expendable." The reproach in her voice stung him.

He leaned back a little so he could look into her eyes. "Listen to me. You will never in my eyes be expendable! If I lost you, I don't know what I'd do. It is my duty to serve the Grey Templar order but it is my desire that I protect those that serve with me."

"Your subordinates?" she asked.

"Nay, my family, my friends and my lover," he answered with a sad smile.

No sooner had he said this she hugged him tight with her chin resting on his shoulder. She then suddenly loosened her grip.

"Uh Donis..." she started, but he could already sense their presence before he heard the voice.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here, boys?" Donis spun around, pushing Mara behind him as he faced the three vampires standing behind him blocking the alleyway entrance.

"Why it's Dorothy and her Tinman!" said a second vampire on Donis' right as it looked around to take in the surrounding area. "I think they've taken a step off the yellow brick road."

Donis didn't flinch at this new source of danger as he said, "Come on! I'll dust you blood hounds like I did your two friends here!"

The vampire on the left snarled as it said in a raspy voice, "By the time we're finished with you, Templar, you'll be only good for one thing...canned goods!" All three of the vampires' laughter echoed throughout the alleyway.

They stopped when Donis started chuckling. Then he ceased and all traces of humour fled from his face.

"Have a good laugh now, blood suckers; it will be your last. Now!"

The vampires halted in their approach as all three heard something. It sounded like a continuous tapping of footfalls, as if someone were running rapidly toward them.

Pellos burst into the area like a speeding train, his swords out and ready. He aimed for the vampire on Donis' right. Such was his speed that he ran up and across the wall next to the targeted vampire. It turned to face him as he drew alongside it and flipped off the wall. His head was just above his victims head as he reached the apex of his somersault. His swords came down in a scissor-like motion that decapitated the vampire below. He landed in time to see its head burst into flames as it sailed through the air. Its headless body followed suit.

The raspy voiced vampire closed in on Donis as the centre vampire turned to be faced by Brackis.

Brackis charged forward, his glaive held up high in both hands. He smashed the blade into the cement and vaulted himself into the air. Both of his booted feet hit the vampire's chest, knocking him off his feet. Even though surprised by the sudden attack, it was far from helpless. The vampire flipped to its feet and darted forward with phenomenal speed, its eye-blurring speed making its charge almost unstoppable. Almost. Unfortunately for the vampire, Brackis was already waiting with his bolt launcher aimed up and firing. The pressure of the bolt launcher's gas propulsion system combined with the vampire's own momentum allowed the stake to pass right through its shoulder. The sheer power of his speedy charge meant that the impact did not fling the creature backwards. Instead, it spun it around in time to see Donis face off against its remaining companion.

Donis and his opponent were both primed to charge. Donis' eyes flickered to his right as the stake Brackis fired passed right through its intended target. The raspy-voiced vampire noticing Donis' momentary distraction struck in the hope to catch him off guard. Donis saw the attack coming and dashed to the side, just barely avoiding the wickedly clawed hands intent on gutting him. In a show of superhuman dexterity, Donis snatched up the speeding stake in mid-air as it travelled past him. He spun inside the vampire's guard and rammed the stake into its chest. Before it could burst into flames, he continued to spin and lashed out at the surviving vampire as it was recovering from its forced turn. The kick that Donis drove into its mid-section sent the vampire flying back down the alleyway past Brackis.

No sooner had it landed it got back up on its feet and made to flee out of the alleyway but stopped when it found Rictus and Daedelis blocking the entrance.

The vampire known as Vlado snarled at its situation. All of its companions were nothing more than ashes now and he was surrounded by foes. He had no doubt that one on one he could kill them but he decided that discretion was the better part of valour.

Mara watched as the vampire leapt into the air to land on the second-storey fire escape of the building on their right. A second leap had him land on the fourth-storey rooftop on their left. As this happened, she noticed that Donis and his men had made no move to attack the last vampire. Only after the fiend was out of sight did she finally see them react.

Donis didn't say anything. All he did was point at Pellos, then at Daedelis and then he pointed to the roof the vampire had escaped onto. They both nodded to him in acknowledgement. Daedelis then sank low, bending his knees and cupping his hands together. Pellos ran and jumped with both his feet landing on Daedelis' hands. With an audible grunt of effort, Daedelis launched Pellos into the air. Daedelis' bear-like strength in addition to Pellos' lighter weight load and leg strength meant his throw could lift Pellos all the way to the rooftop.

Mara turned to Donis as she asked. "Why did you let him go?"

He motioned that he would answer her in a minute as he said out loud. "Pel? Talk to me."

Only he and the other Templars heard Pellos as he replied. "I've still got him in sight, sir, he hasn't seen me. I'll notify you of the location as soon as he stops."

Donis faced Mara as he said. "The reason we let him go is he's panicking and not thinking rationally; therefore, he's more likely to run and lead us..."

"To where the other vampires are," she finished for him. "Very clever strategy," she added, showing her admiration of how ingenious these men she worked with were.

Donis tilted his head as Pellos' voice chimed in. "He's stopped." There was a pause. "I've found them! Three blocks down from your position, Captain."

"Give me numbers," replied Donis.

"I count it at thirty fledglings, four full bloods plus the one I followed and a master," answered Pellos.

"Hmmm, that doesn't sound good," Donis muttered.

"Uh oh, Captain, you're not going to like this," Pellos said.

"What is it, Pel?" Donis asked with curiosity at Pellos' uncertainty. "The master...It's Stragnos, sir!"

Donis paused for a second, "Doesn't matter, hold tight, we're coming to you." As they walked, Mara asked Rictus something that was playing on her mind.

"Why did Donis say that it wasn't good? There's only thirty-five of them, the ease with which you dusted these ones..."

Rictus cut in as he said. "Because we took them by surprise, if we hadn't we would've definitely lost you and Donis at the least." He took a deep breath as he added. "Vampires don't usually stay in groups larger than five or ten. The fact there are forty including the dust piles back there means the whole coven is out and with their master as well. It means we are seriously out gunned. But the master being with them is good as well as bad. He is their greatest weakness as well as their leader.

"I don't understand," said Mara.

"Let me explain. When vampires are first turned, they are what we call fledglings. They are new to all their powers, uncertain and very dependent on their master. So much so that a psychic link is developed between the two. A fledgling after a few years becomes more powerful. These are what we call full bloods. A master vampire is a vampire who has lived for decades and in most cases centuries. In that time, they will have created their own coven or taken over another's. Turning victims into followers, fighting other full bloods for either keeping or attaining the leadership of a coven. They are a fearsome foe. In our history, we've never heard of anything short of a full team of Templars killing one and they lost three of their number.

We, on the other hand, have to face thirty-plus vampires in addition to their master. Like I said before, we have a chance. The psychic link between fledgling and master is so strong in the first few years that if the master dies, the link passes his death onto his new children. So if we kill Stragnos, those thirty fledglings will burn up as well. This will leave only the full bloods who are strong enough to resist such a fate."

"Ok, I'm getting that. So who is this Stragnos?" Mara asked.

Before Rictus could say anything, Father Harkon answered her. "Stragnos is a powerful vampire master. From what we gather, he's been around for about three centuries. They used to call him Stragnos the Beautiful, Stragnos the Beguiler, Stragnos the Seducer — take your pick. It has been said that such was his beauty that he could entrance anyone including Templars and many have fallen to him. That is until one enterprising young Templar managed to deny him his good looks. Vampires can regenerate any wound unless it was made by a weapon blessed by the church. This particular wound split his face from crown to chin."

Mara winced at the description.

"He's gonna love seeing, Donis," piped in Brackis. "Why?" Mara asked.

"Because I happen to be the enterprising young Templar who introduced him to his new image," Donis interrupted.

"Now quiet; we're approaching the area they were sighted in."

He handed a communicator wristband to both Mara and Harkon. "To keep in touch," he said as he stopped by a ladder.

"I thought we were going with you?" questioned Mara.

"No, this smells like a trap so I want you on the roof to cover us." He handed her his bolt launcher.

"Where we'll be safe?" she asked him sarcastically.

His tone was as serious as was his expression as he answered. "Not really, but you can snipe for us. Another reason is if any of us fall, you'll have to put one of those between our eyes." Seeing the uncertainty on her face, he added. "You don't want any of us coming back."

She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes as she contemplated all that she had been told. She opened them, leaned forward and kissed him quickly.

As she pulled away, she whispered to him, "Stay alive." He smiled and winked at her, after which she turned and without another word started up the ladder, Harkon following behind her.

Donis and the rest continued on and stopped just short of the alleyway entrance where Pellos stepped out of the shadows, "They're just in there, Captain," he said, indicating the entrance three metres away.

Donis nodded to all of them. They all had their stakes and other weapons out. They stepped into the alleyway entrance and stopped in their tracks...

There stood Stragnos at the end of the alley but his thirty or so followers were nowhere to be seen. Donis flashed a look at Pellos who shrugged as if to say they were there before. He turned back as the fiend started talking.

"Welcome, Templar Captain Donis, I've been expecting you. It warms my blood to see your face again," Stragnos said with an evil grin splitting his nightmarish face.

He was a tall man, thin to the point of being lanky; his long dark hair was brushed back and fell to his shoulders. It was his face, however, that was the most notable feature. Two very dark eyes — so dark they appeared black — watched their every move. They looked more like pools of infinite darkness that would drag you in if you stared into them for too long. But even these paled in comparison to the long vertical scar that ran down his face. It was stitched together with what looked like thin whipcord. It was stitched on the forehead, the upper and lower lip and the chin, while three metallic studs had been passed through his nose. The ghastly impression it projected was that of a split wound unhealed and barely being held together. This impression was heightened when he smiled at Donis and it slightly split the wound, allowing a few trickles of blood to drop from it down his face.

As Donis made to walk, he felt a hand restrain him. He heard Pellos ask, "Sir, it does look like a trap, so why are we springing it?"

Donis gently removed his hand as he answered, "We are not, I'm going in alone. You will all stay here so they can't surround you."

Donis walked forward as he responded to Stragnos, "Really? Seeing your face again makes me want to puke!" He stopped about ten feet from Stragnos. His men were still at the entrance.

The smile turned into a snarl, which made his face look even more repulsive, if such a thing were possible, as he said, "You will pay for that, you pious pig. I would gladly kill you but an order is an order so I need you alive. Come, my children. We have guests!"

"Uh, Don..." Pellos began.

Donis spun at a scuttling sound to see there were thirty or so vampires climbing down the walls like spiders between Donis and his men.

"Kill them, but take him alive and unspoiled." Stragnos ordered, pointing at Donis. Five vampires moved in to surround Donis while the rest approached the remaining Templars who, unlike Donis, blocked enough of the alley so they couldn't be surrounded.

They were all primed and ready to move but none did. The Templars stood with their weapons out, a stake in one hand and their own Templar weapons in the other. Brackis and Rictus being the exceptions; their sword and glaive being too unwieldy in such close quarters, they carried a second stake instead. The vampires had an assortment of weapons with some just relying on their talons.

Fingers flexed open and closed as anticipation built. Still no one moved. Suddenly, there was a loud 'thoomp' sound as Mara fired Donis' bolt launcher. The Templars spun around when a scream sounded behind them and a vampire who had managed to sneak up on them burst into flames. After that, the battle was on.

Vlado who was leading the attack on Donis felt pain as Donis sent a powerful sword blow down onto his shoulder snapping the bones there with ease. He fell onto one knee, which saved his life as Donis' return stroke flew over his head and sheared through the neck of the vampire next to him. Donis continued to spin and kicked a vampire behind him off its feet. As he finished his spin, he sank low and brought his sword down on the fallen vampire's neck.

Mara watched as Donis coldly and cleanly took out two of the vampires facing him but she could see that the odds were still against him. As he stabbed a third vampire with his wooden stake, it managed to unleash one slash with its claws before it died. An open tear in the black material covering his mid-section — known to be able to stop a sword blow — was the result of its vampiric strength. Blood began to run from the wound.

Donis winced at the pain of his wound. It hurt but thankfully it wasn't fatal. While the first vampire he attacked was still on its knees, he engaged the last vampire of the group attacking him as it lunged at him. He tried to feint with a sword slash to its head and then finish it with a lunge with the stake to its heart. It leaned back from the sword slash, swung out of the way of the stake and grabbed onto his extended arm. The rest was a blur as the vampire pulled on his arm while at the same time kicking into his rib cage, which dented the armour protecting it. It felt like his arm had been pulled out of its socket. The vampire landed two quick hook punches to his face, followed by a leg sweep that shot his feet straight out from under him and he landed flat on his back.

Vlado watched with satisfaction when Kenshi, who took Donis down, proceeded to jump fifteen feet into the air with one knee up and ready to bring his foot down onto the prone figure of Donis. His satisfaction changed to shock when Kenshi, at the zenith of his leap, was flung backwards. It looked to him as if an invisible hand had grabbed and yanked him back. But as he began to burst into flames, Vlado saw the wooden stake in his chest. He then saw the source of the offending missile: Mara. He hissed and bared his teeth as he recognised the human bitch who had helped set up his men and himself earlier.

Mara watched in horror as the vampire glared at her. She could feel its absolute hatred and its desire to tear her apart. She saw him leap with a fury, allowing him to boost all the way to the height of the building she was standing on. She felt paralysed with terror at the sight of the nightmare descending upon her. In that moment, she knew it was too late. She wouldn't be able to ratchet and fire the bolt launcher...she was going to die.

Donis could feel the healing nano machines release painkilling toxins into his blood stream, but it still hurt like hell. He watched as the last vampire leapt into the air to reach Mara. She had saved him and now it was his turn. He rolled back onto his feet. Like Zeus casting his bolts of lightning, Donis hurled his sword straight up.

The sword sliced through the air, to spear through Vlado's thigh and then into his overextended chest, effectively stapling them together. Vlado fell back down into the alley like a bird with its wings clipped. He howled in pain as he rolled this way and that.

Donis spared a quick glance at his men. The occasional flame blast told him that they were still causing damage. They were fighting in teams; two would fight while the other two would recuperate. Right at that moment, Rictus and Daedelis were fighting while Brackis and Pellos were assessing their damaged armour and their many wounds. While they were holding, Donis knew it was only a matter of time before they would be overwhelmed.

He turned back to face Stragnos as he heard the vampire master say, "Fools, I'll just have to do it myself!"

Donis staggered back, dropping his wooden stake. One moment Stragnos had been talking and the next his fist was crashing into Donis' face, cracking open his face mask. Donis dashed in with a vicious hook to Stragnos' face. With little effort, the vampire master caught his fist in midstrike. He then offloaded a heavy punch to Donis' chest, cracking his chest plate and sending him reeling backwards. Stragnos wasted no time and launched forward with a front kick aimed at Donis' already damaged chest plate. No longer surprised by his opponent's speed, Donis spun to the side to end up facing the same direction as Stragnos with him standing right next to him. A back fist to the groin and a low-level kick to the side of the knee brought Stragnos down onto his knees. A quick knee strike to the face just under the chin sent the vampire onto his back as he let loose a howl of agony.

"I'm sorry, did that hurt?" snarled Donis at his floored opponent.

His hesitation to push the attack cost him, as Stragnos, in the blink of an eye, got to his feet and picked Donis up over his head. He then threw him against the alley wall, dislodging and crushing several of the bricks on it.

Donis landed on his hands and knees. He shook his head in an attempt to get his vision back into focus. That was when he saw it just laying there — his fallen wooden stake. He rolled forward, picking it up as he went. He stabbed out aiming for the vampire's chest, only for his hand to be caught in mid-strike again. However, Stragnos adopted a new strategy this time. His free hand wrapped around Donis' throat and began to squeeze while the other increased its pressure forcing Donis to drop the stake.

As Donis hung from Stragnos' one hand, his own two dangled at his side as he weakened in the iron grip on his throat. His vision was starting to blur and darken as he heard a strange sound — 'whoom, whoom, whoom' — he realised it was an object falling down and a quick glance up confirmed this.

Donis reached up with every last ounce of strength he had left, grabbed the hand gripping his throat and then launched the other in a palm heel strike to Stragnos' nose. There was a hideous squelching sound and a yell that almost made him deaf was unleashed. The grip on his throat finally loosened. He took the time to reach out and catch the falling object. Not a moment too soon as he felt the grip tighten once again and he was yanked forward.

Stragnos' ruined face set in the meanest-looking snarl met with Donis' own smiling face. Stragnos' expression changed to one of curiosity; he looked down as something touched his chest. When he looked back up at Donis, all the Templar could see in those eyes was mortal fear.

Stragnos flew back against the wall at the dead end of the alley as the bolt launcher discharged at point blank. Donis was also pushed back by the force due to the close proximity of the target. Gripping the sides of his head with both hands, Stragnos swung about wildly as if resisting some sort of attack. It hit Donis that this was what was exactly happening. The vampire master was too powerful for the incantation of a single stake. He fired two more stakes into the vampire's chest; still, it didn't die. Donis picked up his stake and dashed forward, ramming it into Stragnos' chest with all his might.

"Go to hell!" he yelled. "And take your damn children with you!" With this, he gave the stake a final savage twist. He then jumped back as Stragnos screamed a most unwholesome cry that sounded as if it echoed up from the very bowels of the earth. Then he quite literally exploded into flames, which was equaled by another impressive pyrotechnic display as Donis turned away from the bright blaze. He saw all the vampires facing his men burn up into a fantastic series of fireballs that lit up the dark alley. All that remained were piles of ash, through which his men stepped. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw them. They were battered, bruised and bleeding, but nonetheless, they were alive.

"Took your time!" said Rictus with his childishly infectious grin.

Donis stopped smiling when he heard a faint sound. 'Chink, chink...chink, chink...' It sounded like someone was walking with a limp. He looked up and saw Vlado staggering across the scaffolding of the fire escape. Donis' sword was clenched in his hand, the hilt wrapped in cloth so as to keep the ancient blessings on it from burning his hand. Then he disappeared onto the roof.

"Awww crap!" swore Donis. Here he was near death and now he would have to go chase down yet another vampire. He started for the fire escape when he heard a scream from the rooftop the vampire had just gone onto.

It was Vlado as he fell from the rooftop to land on the ground hard on his back. Donis' sword was impaled through his stomach; someone had stabbed this vampire and then kicked him back down here. From the smell of burnt flesh on the hilt, it appeared they weren't human...so another vampire or a demon. It didn't matter now, he thought as he put his foot on the vampire's chest and pulled out his sword. The vampire moaned in agony.

Daedelis stepped up with his stake at the ready, "Hush, blood puppy, I'm going to put you out of your misery!"

"No!" Donis ordered.

"Well, what are we gonna do?" Daedelis asked him.

"We're taking him with us to Humanity's Haven for some questioning. I, for one, want to know what the hell is going on!"

"Nooooo!" screamed the vampire Vlado as more hands grabbed him and dragged him out to the entrance of the alley, where his scream faded into the distance.
CHAPTER 9

# Ambush

The vampire known as Vlado couldn't move; his arms and legs were strapped to the table he now lay on. Facing him was Donis and the rest of his team minus Mara whom he had told, 'she didn't want to see this.' By the tone of his voice, it was clear, even to Vlado, that it was not a suggestion but an order.

"Captain, I must say I'm a little hesitant at having this... this vampire at Humanity's Haven!" protested Harkon.

"That's fair, Padre, but he's here for a few reasons. Firstly, Stragnos was working for someone, which is weird in itself for Stragnos wouldn't work for someone unless they were more powerful and he feared them," responded Donis.

"Which means what exactly?" Harkon asked, clearly still confused.

"Someone is brewing up a shit storm and we don't know whom." He looked meaningfully at Vlado, "Yet! So we need him alive for now."

After Donis walked back to Vlado, Rictus stepped up to Harkon. "You see, Padre, you have to look at it from Donis' perspective to understand his reasoning."

"And what is that?" asked Harkon.

"Consider, Padre, that in the last couple of weeks, we've had a minor demon take over one of our cathedrals and base his coven there. Now we have a vampire coven recruiting dead smack in the centre of our city. On both accounts, armies were being gathered and built. Where others might see nothing or coincidence, Donis sees conspiracy and a possible new invasion. Admittedly, he's been wrong as many times as he has been right in the past. In the end, it's a possibility we can't afford to overlook.

Harkon nodded his understanding and then he and Rictus joined Donis at the metal bed that Vlado lay strapped upon.

Donis looked into the vampire's eyes as he said, "You will tell us who Stragnos was working for. The only question is do we do it the easy way or the hard way?"

"What's the easy way?" asked Vlado.

Donis pulled out his stake, "Tell us what we want to know and I'll finish you quick." He continued as Vlado snuffed a laugh, "Even if we were to let you go, how long do you think you'd last with your injuries?" Donis nodded his head at the pool of blood, which had come from Vlado's unhealing wounds.

"Screw you!" Vlado spat at him. A small glob of blood splattered on Donis' face.

Donis calmly wiped off the blood and snarled back at Vlado, being sure to bear his fangs. His hand shot forward, grabbing the vampire's jaw in a vice-like grip. He held Vlado's face only inches away from his own when he spoke in a low, menacing tone.

"Now you listen to me, I haven't got time to play games with you. Now I'm fairly averse to torture, especially with my knowledge of perverse acts done in the name of religion."

He started pacing from his captive's head to his toes and listing examples as he went back and forth. "The Inquisition, the atrocities they committed in the name of Catholicism. Islamic fanatics, whose suicidal delusions were in most cases condemned by their own people and scriptures. But..."

He stopped pacing and stared down at his captive square in the eyes. "Since those incidents didn't include your ilk, hell spawn, I have no deliberations about tearing you apart to get my answers!"

Vlado grinned as he retorted with, "You don't scare me, Templar! I heard what you said to the fag with the white collar." Vlado nodded at Harkon, "You need me alive so you can get your answers."

Donis reached over to a nearby table and grabbed up his Templar sword, brandishing it in front of Vlado's face. Vlado's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon that had caused him so much pain already. It was a deep instinctive fear of this ancient weapon that bore into his being, making him tremble.

Seeing the vampire's fear, Donis gave him a feral grin as he stated, "I said I need you alive, I said nothing about needing you in one piece!" With that said, Donis placed the blade against Vlado's groin, who in return began to whimper and shake his head in a negative fashion.

Donis' smile faded; he gave a small nod to Vlado. You had to give credit where it was due, he thought; despite his obvious fear, the vampire continued to resist.

Donis then nodded to Pellos, who walked over to a control panel and flicked a switch. The table on which Vlado was strapped to rotated until he was upright, facing the wall behind Donis. It was then he noticed that the wall — a solid grey concrete slab — had a portal of some sort, directly in front of him. It was a sleek, shiny, flat metallic material. It began to roll up at the top and sunlight began to project out to just under where his feet lay suspended. To his horror, he realised it was a window opening up and it was going to bathe him in sunlight.

Donis nodded once again and Pellos stopped the window. Donis quipped, "Now I don't think you need to use your imagination too much to guess what happens next."

"No...No...Nooooo! I don't know anything!" the undead creature screamed as tears ran from its eyes when it saw Donis raise his hand to signal Pellos. An alarm went off before he could finish the gesture.

"Breach!" shouted Donis, "Come on, let's go, let's go!" he ordered his men. As they ran out, he turned and said, "Padre, stay here and watch him."

Harkon obeyed without question. He knew an order when he heard one. He was unarmed and untrained logic stated that there wasn't anything he could do out there. Besides, the vampire was strapped down firmly; it couldn't go anywhere. So even he could watch it and — as Donis probably wants — stay safe out of harm's way.

Donis ran down the corridor with his men just behind him. They came to a 'T' intersection and were joined by another Templar group coming from the other direction. Their leader appeared shorter than your average Templar, which was because his huge muscular torso was hunched over in an almost ape-like fashion.

"Sergeant Hulius, give me a situation report," ordered Donis as he and his men ran alongside Hulius and his troupe down the adjoining corridor.

"Sir, one of the technicians went out for some air and found a wandering little dog; a shi-tzu, no tags..." began Hulius.

"Tell me he didn't let it in?" Donis asked interrupting him.

Hulius responded with, "I'm afraid he did sir. As it turns out, it was a blood fiend, it changed into its 'wereform' and then all hell broke loose."

"I bet it did. Techs and priests would've been running for their lives!" Pellos said from behind them.

They all heard a voice come over the Templar main channel frequency. "All units, attention all Templar units. We have the blood fiend cornered in Section D, Area 3. Repeat, we have it cornered in Section D, Area 3."

Section D, Area 3, the area code ran through Donis' mind. That was the priests' living quarters and it was just around the corner. Another thing that concerned him, 'they have it cornered, why hadn't they killed it?'

As he came around the corner, he saw the answer to his unspoken question. The creature was huddled against a wall. It had a hostage and was using it as a shield against the twelve Templars already facing it at the other end of the room.

Father Mike Hogan was a bull-necked priest who was known for his large appetite. At six foot and one hundred and twenty kilograms, he was a very imposing personage even in the regalia of a priest. The creature behind him, on the other hand, was about five foot ten inches, gangly and covered in fur. Its limbs were long and thin but well-muscled. The head on top of its neck resembled that of an enlarged shi-tzu with two notable differences. Two large glistening fangs protruded from its flat, furry face. Together with the two eyes that looked like balls of blood created a hellish canine visage.

The creature was strong. Despite their apparent size difference, it held the large priest by the back of his neck a full foot off the ground by virtue of one clawed hand. It showed cunning as it used its smaller size to hide itself effectively behind its human shield. Two of the Templars facing it edged forward and to their right in an attempt to get a clear shot.

The blood fiend turned its head toward them. "Another step closer, Templars, and he dies!" It warned them whilst tightening its grip.

The two Templars froze on the spot at its words; Donis was just as shocked. Blood fiends were the servants of vampires, unlike the vampires' blood enemies' werewolves, who were a species in their own right. Blood fiends were canines who had been turned by vampires. They were created to act as the daylight bodyguards and spies of their daylight vulnerable masters.

Also, unlike werewolves who can return to their human form at will, blood fiends, on the other hand, have no human form but can still change between their canine and were forms at will.

While all interesting facts stormed through his mind in mere moments, he was only now interested in the last one about to come.

Blood fiends possessed an adult-level thought capacity but had to be taught to talk by their masters. Most cases, if not all, in which these creatures had been confronted showed that they had been taught only the basics. Simple commands could be easily understood and obeyed. The creature before them, however, spoke with a voice that was both cultured and well educated. Obviously, its master was one who saw value in educating it beyond basic commands.

It was then Donis noticed something the others had missed: this beast was indeed very smart, while the Templars surrounding it were preoccupied with the safety of the priest dangling from its grip. Donis further away could see what they couldn't up close as they were. While it distracted the Templars with Father Hogan, it had hooked one of its heel claws into the grill just above ground level.

Before Donis could shout any warning, the blood fiend kicked its leg forward, tearing the grill out and sending it flying. No sooner had it done so, it then dropped Father Hogan and slashed its claws through some overhead pipes. Smoke erupted from them, which became a dense cloud that swallowed Father Hogan, his aggressor and some of the surrounding Templars.

They all heard the sounds of screaming and breaking bones. Some assumed it was the beast savaging Father Hogan before it would make its escape, but Donis knew better. That was the sound of its transformation into its canine form. A transformation of the bone structure of a five foot, ten-inch bipedal creature into that of a quadruped barely a foot-and-a-half tall was a painful one, hence the screams.

Donis' summation was proven correct as air filtration units in the room quickly dissipated the cloud, only to reveal Father Hogan lying on the ground stunned but otherwise unharmed. The blood fiend had transformed in order to flee through the escape hatch it had created.

Hulius came up beside Donis as he said, "Shall we give chase, sir?" His tone indicating he already knew the answer.

"No, forget it. That shaft leads straight outside; he's long gone by now." Donis paused before he asked, "How many casualties were there?"

"None, sir!" answered Hulius.

"None?" Donis asked, perplexed.

"Sir, as soon as it entered it just ran around the place, not bothering to engage our forces. Hell, it didn't even finish off the tech that brought it in after it knocked him flat on his ass!" answered Hulius in a confused tone.

"That doesn't make sense and where was its mast...Unless...Awww shit!" Without another word, Donis bounded down the corridor with his men following closely, only to discover they were too late.

When they entered the interrogation room, they stopped in their tracks at what they saw. A very large hole had been punched through the concrete wall to the left of the window. The vampire was gone and the bonds that had held him had been slashed open. Over against the wall adjacent to the improvised opening sat Father Harkon holding a white handkerchief against his head. Donis had let out the breath he had held onto as they'd entered. He saw that the Padre was alive...a little shaken but nonetheless alive.

## Surprise

They were back at the apartment sitting in Donis' unit; they had left Humanity's Haven an hour or so after the incident. Harkon had spoken to Grandmaster Tyrius and the higher-ups of the clergy based at the fortress. Though they waited for him, on the way home he had not disclosed the contents of that meeting.

He did not disappoint them though, they all listened intently as he regaled them with what had happened.

"One minute I was just standing there, then the vampire started to whimper again, looking around as if he were looking for the source of his fear." He paused to lightly rub at the now stitched-up wound on his forehead.

"Then the wall just explodes and I fell as a piece of debris hit me in the head. Suddenly, in walks this dark-cloaked figure. It was so covered up I couldn't see any of its features. Once it moved out of the sunlight, it removed its cloak. I gasped for — God forgive my blasphemy — he was one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen. He had long blonde hair that was so pale it was almost white. He had the pale complexion vampires are known for. About six feet tall, his physique was not skinny but well built. He walked with a style and confidence I've not seen; especially in one who had just broken into a Templar fortress!"

Harkon looked at them all; no one had said anything for a while. He continued when he saw that they were all wrapped into his recollection.

"He stopped though when he reached halfway to the other vampire. He took a deep inhalation, reason for which at that time I did not know. He then turned to look at me but he looked in my direction, not at me. Then it dawned on me when I saw his eyes, they were white orbs...like that of some blind people. As I thought of how such an atrocious thing could be, he approached me with all the poise and stability of someone who could see."

Harkon took a deep breath as the memory of those eyes and the angelic face they were in came closer to his own. He then continued...

"He stopped his face mere inches from my own. At that moment, I knew I was dead. He was going to finish me off now that I was down and helpless to stop him. With all the resistance I could amass in my injured state, I pulled out my cross and held it before me."

Harkon sighed as he continued, "He didn't even flinch; he simply reached forward with his left hand and grasped my hand and the cross it held, while with his right hand he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a white handkerchief. He placed it on my wound, 'Here, Father, hold this!' he said in a voice that was like silk. I did as I was told; a little shocked he knew what I was. As if reading my thoughts, he smiled as he said, 'It wasn't hard to tell, Father, I smelt it on you. You clergymen have a particular smell about yourselves unlike any other, somewhat holier, if you like.'

Harkon now had a perplexed look upon his face as he said, "It was then I witnessed something most unusual. I noticed that his hand wasn't burning against my cross at all."

"His skin didn't blister or peel?" Donis asked.

"No, Captain, I was under the impression that all demons and un-dead creatures were burned or scalded when in contact with a holy icon?" Harkon asked him.

"That's correct, Padre," answered Donis, after which he then turned to his men. "Talus, you think?" Donis asked the others.

"Sounds like it!" answered Pellos while all the others nodded in agreement. "Talus? Who's that?" asked Harkon.

"A myth supposedly. He's steeped in so much mystery we mostly doubted his existence. Guess that will change with your encounter now, Padre. He's the only known case of vampires to have a disability. You see, vampires can regenerate any wound over time, unless they were injured before they were turned. In that case, it cannot be healed. There have been many sightings and stories of a vampire with white orbs as his eyes.

They vary from him walking the streets as a blind man as he selects his victims to him being a sad and tortured creature; tortured because as a vampire, he can never see the day, but as a blind man he can't even enjoy the night. One story even suggests he was in a church, an impossible feat for all but the most powerful vampires.

"Many have gone to find him: witch hunters, bounty hunters, mystics and even individual Templars. None have ever returned. It was always assumed that in search for him they had stumbled into whole covens. Even vampires we've captured and questioned have no real knowledge of him either. Although there are a lot of these sightings and stories, they all have one detail in common...No one is safe from him, not even other vampires. Whole nests have been wiped out and latecomers to the scene — both human and Templar — have insisted they saw a lone figure walking away. The figure would turn for one moment and they would see his white shining eyes..."

"Hmmm, that does fit in more with what happened," said Harkon.

"Please continue, Padre," replied Donis, realising that Harkon wasn't finished.

Harkon appeared to gather his thoughts. It was apparent to all of them, even Mara, that he was nervous about what he was about to divulge.

"Well as he knelt there before me grasping my cross he asked, 'Do you think He would answer my prayers?' The question perplexed me; why would a creature such as he even pray to God? He answered my questions as if I had spoken it out loud. 'I prefer, Father, to follow the faith I chose when I was mortal than the faith that was forced upon me to embrace when I turned into this monster! So what do you think, Father, would He?'

"I could only answer what I felt, 'I don't know.' He then asked another soul-crushing question of me.

"'Then perhaps you would pray for me, Father?' I was aghast at such a thought but it made me think, could I? Would I?" Harkon had a fearful look on his face as if he feared his companions' reactions.

"He stopped me before I could answer as if he knew it already and he said, 'It's best if you don't answer, Father. It keeps at least one of us holy.' The smile on his face was so sad it brought a tear to my eye. Then I heard cackling; it was disgusting, more of a gurgle than a laugh. It was the other vampire. It was laughing at its apparent saviour. It then said with a cruel tone, 'You're pathetic! You haven't changed since we turned you! You're still the same whelp!'

"The blind vampire or Talus, if you like, sighed, turned and drew himself up to his full height as he approached the injured vampire. All cockiness fled from the injured one's face and all I could see was his fear. Talus spoke to him in hushed tones so I couldn't hear what he asked but the other spoke aloud.

"'Never!' it hissed. I then saw Talus take a deep breath. He took one of the ends off his walking staff to reveal a double-sided blade, about one-and-a-half feet long. He twirled it in a quick figure-eight; I barely saw him move and yet those restraints were sliced open. The wounded vampire plopped onto his feet unsteadily while Talus covered the blade, converting the weapon back to a walking staff.

"I then heard Talus speak out loud. 'Tell me what they wanted to know. This is the second last time I ask you.' The wounded one just laughed at him but stopped as the blind one smiled as well; there was nothing friendly about it. Again, he moved so fast I barely saw it. Quick as lightning, he plunged his right hand into an already open chest wound. He gripped the breast bone and lifted the vampire two feet clear off the ground!"

Harkon stopped to let his words sink in; Rictus then spoke up, "He attacked the other vampire?"

"Yes, that and more, if I may?" Harkon responded.

Rictus waved his hand as a sign for him to continue after realising he was interrupting.

"He held the other vampire up by the strength of one arm. He then walked over to the opening, where a long wall of light projected out of the hole he had created. He held the wounded one near the light. The back of his head, which was just touching the light, started to burn, creating a sick sizzling sound. 'Now this will be the last time I ask you!' he said. The only response from his victim was a scream, but it was a silent scream no more than a gasp. 'Are you going to tell me?' he asked. The tortured vampire nodded as tears ran down his eyes; Talus brought him out of the sunlight. He listened as the other whispered something too low for me to hear.

"The blind one dropped him, turned around and approached me. 'The name you were looking for, Father, is Kavouris.' He tilted his head as if listening to something before he said 'And now, Father, we must bid you adieu, goodbye, Father.' With that said, he covered himself with his cloak once again and pulled out a spare to cover the injured vampire. They disappeared into the hole in the wall, out into the sunlight and that was when you came in."

"Guess we were a bit late, sorry, Padre," said Donis with sincerity.

"No harm was done, Captain," replied Harkon. "Anyway, I was expressing my wishes to research this Kavouris to my superiors and they agreed this must be done." Donis sighed as he heard this.

"What is it, Captain? You disagree?" asked Harkon.

"Not so much as disagree as feel wary of taking a demon at its words, even one that spared your life. It could be a ruse to lead us astray."

"In any event, I still believe it's worth investigating," Harkon persisted.

Sensing no give in the priest's conviction, Donis gave in as he said. "OK, Padre, by all means look into it. As for the rest of us, it's been a hell of a long morning so I suggest a rest before we're called back out."

Seeing Daedelis asleep on his couch, Donis added very loudly, "For those already taking my advice, go to your own room!" Daedelis woke up, groggily got to his feet and left with the others.

Mara made her way to the bedroom then she turned at the doorway when she noticed that Donis wasn't following. She saw him still sitting at the table. His hands were clasped before his face as he stared into space.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked him.

"No, you go, I'll be there soon. I've got some issues to sort through," he replied.

After she disappeared, he got back to his train of thought. He had been going over the events of the last couple of weeks, trying to find a common link besides the building of armies. Their being linked was not in doubt but his search continued fruitlessly; his search for a clue as to why, where and, most importantly, who was behind this? Another consideration was what they wanted from or with him. Stragnos wanted him alive, something he of all people would not have wanted. No doubt for some nefarious purpose but he...

A yawn ripped out from his mouth, interrupting his thoughts. He realised just how tired and beat up he was from his fight with Stragnos and his vampires. He rubbed at the bruised area where one of the vampires had kicked him. He felt really drowsy, his eyes were closing and he surrendered to his body's need, laid his head on the table and dozed off.

## Visitors

He awoke with a start; it was dark outside and he couldn't believe he'd slept so long like that. Surprising as that was, it wasn't what had startled him. He had heard something but it had stopped so suddenly. It had sounded like booted footsteps. His head snapped up, he took a deep breath in through his nose, there...Men, many of them. He could smell the salty stale sweat and body odour emanating from their bodies. Clever, very clever they had somehow managed to muffle the sound of their footsteps. The hair on his arms stood on end like when priests chant or mystics cast their spells. Magic was being used. Clever as they may be, those responsible made some mistakes. They had cast the spell too late as they had awoken him. They also underestimated his sense of smell, which at times was more reliable than his hearing.

He switched his communicator to radio-unit mode. "Alright, people, we've got company, get ready to repel intruders." He stood up as he reached for his pistol; he ducked and rolled across the floor to the other side of the room as his door burst open. The men that entered opened fire immediately. They were dressed in military attire but their gear was ill-looked after. Their body armour, scant as it was, was covered with the blasphemous symbols of cultists.

The first of the four that entered his room fell as his chest was torn apart by a volley from Donis' pistol as he ended his roll behind a cabinet. As one cultist continued firing at him, another went into the bedroom and opened fire with his own automatic weapon. The last cultist ducked back outside the doorway to reload. He looked up as a loud crash sounded from the room above. He brought his attention back to the scene as the cultist firing at him ran dry. He turned to see him draw a long-bladed knife and run at him. Donis pushed against the cabinet, sliding on his back. He raised his pistol as the cultist leapt through the air, preparing to drive his blade into Donis.

Donis let loose with a quick shot. The plasma discharge all but tore the cultist's stomach apart. He then rolled to his feet to avoid the falling cultist who then landed flat on his stomach. The cultist groaned as he struggled to push himself up. Donis coldly stomped down on the back of the dying man's neck, ending his pain as well as his struggles as the blow broke his neck. No sooner did he do this, he heard a 'click, click'; the third cultist had reloaded. Donis unleashed an extended burst at the wall the sound had come from. The pistol shots tore through the wall with ease. A scream followed by the dull thump of a body hitting the floor told him at least one shot had hit.

Now without the gunfire echoing in the room, he heard the sound of a struggle coming from the bedroom. In a panicked instant, he realised the significance of the last cultist going into the bedroom. Mara!

He hurriedly entered the room to see Mara and the last cultist struggling on the floor. Both grunted with effort as he tried to push a long combat knife down to her throat. Donis quickly surmised what had happened seeing that bullet holes had raked the wall above the bed. Mara had avoided the oncoming storm of gunfire and attacked while he reloaded. The cultist had then drawn his knife, gained the upper hand and was now using his superior weight to drive the knife down onto her.

A snarl of satisfaction came across the cultist's face as his blade touched Mara's neck. A small bead of blood started from the contact. So consumed by his inevitable victory, he didn't see the shadow appear behind him.

The man screamed as his hair was grasped and his head was yanked back almost to the point of breaking his neck. The scream turned into a high-pitched wail as another hand grabbed at his groin. A horrible crunching sound was heard as he was clenched in a grip that would have crushed stones. Donis ignored the cultist's screams as he hoisted him off the floor and smashed his head through the gyprock wall behind him. The screams stopped as the cultist went limp, still held up by his head that was no longer visible.

Donis walked over to Mara to help her up. As he leaned over, he heard a sound behind him. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw a cultist in the doorway aiming a pistol at him. The man was bleeding heavily from a shoulder wound so he leaned against the doorframe to hold himself up. Donis sensed movement below him. The cultist convulsed as bullets whizzed through the air bare inches under Donis' groin and slammed into his chest. Donis looked down to see Mara holding a rifle between his legs.

She smiled as she asked, "Enjoy feeling the power between your legs?"

"Felt more like my testicles crawling into my stomach," he muttered out loud.

As he helped her to her feet, he touched the small cut on her throat as he asked her, "You OK?" She nodded in reply as they heard gunfire from all sides of the complex.

Donis moved into the living room as he heard a voice full of fear address him on his communicator. "Ah, Captain?"

"Padre, is that you?" Donis asked.

"Yes, why is there a group of men trying to kill me?

"I don't know, Padre. Where are you?" Donis asked, relieved the priest was still alive.

"I'm in my room. I managed to drop one of my cabinets in front of the door as I heard the other doors being kicked in! Captain, what should I do?" The desperation and fear in the priest's voice could be clearly heard.

"Don't panic, Padre. Alright, all the rooms are connected so try to get to either Dae's or Brac's room," Donis said in a calm voice.

"It's a little late for that. They're almost through!" Harkon announced hysterically.

Donis thought for a moment, warring with his frustration. Then he grinned as an idea came to him. "Padre, stomp your feet a couple of times and then stand very still."

Harkon stomped his feet, "Why? Why am I sta..." His eyes widened as realisation hit him, "You wouldn't..."

"Just stand very still!" Donis ordered.

"Oh dear God he would!" Harkon said to himself whilst grasping his cross as if his life depended on it.

Suddenly, the floor around him exploded as bolts of plasma energy passed through, sending chips of wood flying. A rough circle was being cut out, just as his attackers forced the door open and pushed the cabinet away. A groaning sound emerged from the floor beneath his feet.

Just as the seven cultists who entered brought their weapons to bear, there was a loud snap and he fell through the floor. The section of floor crashed down into Donis' room; dust and clouds of smoke followed it down. No sooner had it landed that Donis grabbed Harkon and propelled him out of sight of the opening.

Shocked by the disappearance of the priest, four of the cultists moved toward the hole, only to be assaulted and cut down by Donis and Mara who had been waiting for them. The other three were stunned as they saw their comrades cut down by a combination of bullets and plasma bolts. They themselves fell as Daedelis and Brackis came in from both sides at the far end of the room, mowing them down with their Templar pistols blazing. Another cultist entered the room. Unlike the others, he wasn't attired in military clothing. He wore a long purple robe with its hood off to reveal a bald head and a middle-aged face with a black goatee shot through with grey hairs. As both Templars attempted to reload their pistols by ejecting the spent energy cells, they felt the hair on their arms stand on end. They saw the man wave his arms and chant in some unknown tongue. As they watched, they noticed a fireball start to build up between his hands. They knew what was to come and had to make a decision quickly — fight or run. Run!

The others watched as Daedelis and Brackis came plunging through the hole in Donis' ceiling. They didn't stop though and dodged out from underneath, as a fireball exploded from above, sending flames shooting down the hole.

"Run, run, run little Templars! I will find you!" they heard the mystic cackle insanely.

The floorboards creaked above Donis as he finished reloading his pistol. As he did with Harkon, he fired and cut a rough circular pattern from where he heard the sound. The man shrieked in fear as the floor erupted in blasts of plasma all around him. He then felt a sinking sensation as the floor gave way and fell.

Before he could hit the ground, Donis lunged forward and grabbed him in mid-air by the throat. "Who sent you?" he asked in a menacing tone. The mystic responded by gripping Donis' arm, sending bright blue flames crawling along it, which burnt the skin. As the scent of burning flesh came to his nose, Donis growled and tightened his grip. The flames stopped instantly as the man lost his concentration due to choking.

The next sentence he choked out froze Donis. "Kavouris, aid me!" he began chanting. As he did so, Donis could feel a presence of whoever or whatever this mystic was summoning and it was getting stronger. Donis reacted the only way he could. With a quick jerk, he broke the man's neck. The presence disappeared and a dead silence fell over the group.

Pellos, who had entered unnoticed, broke the silence, "I don't understand why so many were sent after the Padre and so few after us?"

"Because they were meant to distract us, not kill us, while the others killed the good Father," answered Donis.

"But why?" asked Mara.

The question hung in the air until realisation hit Donis. "To stop him from researching this Kavouris. Whoever he is, he doesn't want us knowing him too well." He thought for a moment before continuing. "Padre, under the circumstances I agree that you must research this Kavouris. All that you can find on him, but bring it straight to us; report to no one else. Someone told Kavouris your plans to research him and where we live. There's a traitor at Humanity's Haven...

"We shall trust no one, but those here and Grand Master Tyrius, with what we know and find!" The significance of what he said sunk in and once again, the room became a place of complete and uncomfortable silence.
CHAPTER 10

# Dead Men Walking

The room was quiet as everyone was lost in their own thoughts of recent events. They all sat in one of the meeting rooms at Humanity's Haven; only Father Harkon was absent. They were gathered around a large rectangular table made of a chromish-coloured material. Their reflections each staring back at them off its surface. They were waiting for word from Father Harkon about the results of his search for information on the demon Kavouris.

Donis' communicator rang; its shrill beeping snapped everyone out of their personal thoughts. Donis answered, "Yes? Donis here."

"Oh good, Padre, bring it right over!" he said excitedly, then sighed as he heard something else.

"Doesn't matter, Padre, bring it anyway..." He then closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Hey, Don, what's happening?" Rictus asked in a concerned tone.

"Nothing, the good Padre has found some text referring to Kavouris," Donis replied without looking up.

There came a knock at the door, "Come in, Padre," Donis said as he sat up once more.

Father Harkon entered the room and walked toward an empty chair. He clasped a heavy and thickly paged book in his arms. As he sat down, he laid the book down opened up on a yellow and decayed page.

"I found a paragraph referring to this Kavouris, in one of the tomes of the "Kin-Ya coven..."

"The followers of Kin-Ya?" Rictus asked. "Weren't they the..."

Donis cut him off as he said, "The demon cult that fell apart just minutes before a Templar attack. They all surrendered to the Templar group without a fight. They seemed lost and confused. The cult leaders, when questioned, said that their demon patron was no more. That even the gifts he had bestowed upon the higher ups of the cult were gone as well..."

"What happened to all of the ex-cultists?" Mara asked.

"They died...as the place was burnt down to its foundations," Donis answered without any emotion.

"That was a bit excessive. They could've been innocents enthralled by the demon!" Mara said aghast.

"So were the crimes that they committed! In a sacrificial chamber, the dismembered bodies of several dozen children were found. Even if they were in the main innocent, the crimes they perpetrated could not be forgotten or forgiven," Donis shot back in a raised voice.

"And the church just accepted it? That this group of Templars took upon themselves to judge and execute these people!" Mara said with indignation.

"Of course they did. They knew, as any Templars do, that the squad involved in that raid did what they thought was best."

"How do you know it was all true? That the Templars didn't just do it out of hatred and prejudice or just got lost in the moment and..." Mara began but then was cut off as Donis said in a low voice.

"... Because we were the squad that performed the raid," the sadness could be easily heard in his voice.

Mara fell silent and looked down at the table. She said nothing more but they all couldn't help but notice the droplets of tears as they fell onto the table's shiny surface.

"Well as I told you on the communicator, Captain..." Harkon said to change the subject. He continued when all present looked at him, "I only managed to find these few pages on Kavouris from the cult's high priest's journal. The high priest Ramoth noted that one of their mystic visionaries — through whom they could contact their demonic patron — was acting agitated. Something was bothering the demon lord Kin-Ya so much so that the visionary was receiving psychic feedback from their lord's angered state. It was then that the visionary saw what had agitated their master so. He was being confronted by another and the mystic saw the confrontation from afar. His astral body was in hell."

Harkon looked around at them all as he said, "Here it is, the paragraphs I spoke of..."

"'I watched my servant as he travelled the astral path. I decided to enter his mind and magically copy what he was seeing. It appeared I did so not a moment too soon as the mystic screamed in anguish.

"'He let loose another yell. This time it was one of immense pain. His eyes then seemed to explode into balls of fire. The fire crawled up and consumed his face. It continued to spread until it consumed his entire body. The smell of charred flesh wafted in the air. The mystic continued to scream until finally he fell to the ground, a blackened husk. He then turned to ashes and blew away on a slight breeze coming from outside of the coven hideout.'

Harkon traced his finger down the page to pick up another set of paragraphs and continued.

## Ramoth's Diary

'"As I trod along the mystic's path to review my servant's last vision, I saw an image that would break my heart. It was a clash of Titans. My lord Kin-Ya was already an accomplished demon lord, second in power only to the dark one himself. Despite this fact, this other being with a gleaming sword of light in its hand was powerful too. The combatants would trade blows and step back to inspect any damage, none of which appeared to be healing. The other being dealt a savage blow to my lord's chest, which opened a terrible wound that gushed blood. It was then I saw something pass across my lord's features; it was fear...

'"Realisation soon came to me as I saw that their wounds had not healed at all. Unlike on our plane of existence, in hell they were mortal. This wasn't a simple case of losing one's host or vessel form. They were in their most pure and basic forms. If they died there, it would mean an end to their existence. My lord's fear proved to be his undoing as he froze momentarily. He was dealt another terrible blow, this time to his leg, and he was cast down to the floor. As the sword of light was raised and then fell, my lord Kin-Ya screamed the name Kavouris!

'"After seeing my demon patrons head roll away, I finally had a good look at his killer. He was quite simply the most beautiful being I had ever witnessed. His skin was a smooth pale white; his features were delicate, angelic almost. Bright blue eyes shone like beacons of heavenly light. Ethereal wings like a black mist flowing and following behind him. An evil grin passed over the beautiful one's face as he looked directly at me. Although I knew this was just merely a replayed image of my servant, I shivered with fear as that gaze fell upon me. I then heard voices. It was my mystic servant and this Kavouris.

'"Who are you?" my servant asked.

'"Who am I? Who am I, little man?" asked the being with amusement. "Very well, I shall tell you before you die!"

'"D...D...Die?" my servant sputtered. My view changed as he tried to flee. A thin white light shot out from the being's hand and surrounded my vision.

'"Oh no, I'm afraid there will be no escaping to the sanctuary of your body for you, my little mystic. Now where was I? Oh yes, who am I?"

'"The pale one said something in some weird language. After he had finished, another malicious grin passed over his face.

'"And now that I've told you who I am, it's time for that death I promised you,' he added casually. Fire began to emanate from his hand. It suddenly shot up and engulfed my vision then all faded to darkness.

'"As my eyes snapped open, a great sadness struck me. Not only for my master's demise but my powers too as I could feel them slipping away. Pushing aside my sorrow, I remembered the language Kavouris used in the vision. I had seen such a dialect before. After scouring our most ancient texts, I finally identified it. It was an ancient biblical tongue called Syrian Aramaic. Not possessing the linguistic skills to decipher such a language, I turned to one of our many digital reference books. These devices were created by some of our scholars in order to translate certain languages, whether verbal or textual. The machine read the vision from my mind as if it were merely a memory now. It translated to:

"'I am he who is damned by his Lord and Master...

It is I who has the eyes of an Angel and the heart of a Demon...

Though strong are my powers, I am still one who has fallen from grace...'"

Harkon stopped reading and looked up to see all at the table staring at him intently. When he said no more, Pellos asked, "Is that all of it?"

"Not a lot to go, Padre," stated Rictus as Harkon nodded to Pellos. "Still it's something," added Brackis.

"Can I ask a question?" asked Mara, finally breaking her silence. Her voice remained barely above a whisper.

"Mara, you don't have to ask for permission, just ask away," Donis said without turning to look at her.

"How is it that you didn't know this already? I mean, since you were the ones who... who..."

Her eyes welled up with tears again as she said, "I'm sorry, excuse me for a moment." With no other words, she stood up and ran from the room. They all looked to Donis, who bowed his head and sighed.

Mara ran as hard as she could; it felt like forever until she felt a gust of wind behind her. Even though she knew two men who could run that fast, she knew who it was as a hand was placed on her shoulder. Whoever it was, they applied enough strength to slow her down and eventually stop her, but the pressure eased before the fingers could even dig in. She turned and allowed herself to be swallowed up into Donis' waiting arms, sobbing into his chest as she said, "Don...I'm sorry...I have no right to judge you...You've seen things I couldn't possibly imagine...I don't know what came over me!"

He pulled back from her as he placed a finger gently under her chin and tilted her head back.

He could look into her eyes, yet still he did not say anything. "Baby, I'm not angry with you," he said finally.

"You're not? But I..." she began with confusion.

He cut her off as he said, "You spoke your mind, that is all. It's...refreshing that someone in this relationship has a conscience." He gave a wry smile, which eventually vanished.

"Look, we're not above any rules of morality here. The day people stop questioning our actions is the day that we are. But in our defence, I will say this. When you jump into the beast's pit, you seldom come out looking your best. Do you understand?"

She thought about it for a moment and nodded. "We live in a harsh and cruel world and we have to adapt to our surroundings. Even if it calls upon us to do things we don't want to."

"You do understand! I think that's why I love you so much," he said suddenly.

She said nothing but wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him long and hard. They began entwining their arms around each other and pressed their bodies together firmly until they remembered where they were.

When she pulled back from him, she saw a sheepish grin on his face as he said, "Alright, enough dawdling time to get back to work before the bosses make us do overtime."

She snorted a laugh, "Yeah, that's not exactly good for your health in a profession where too much work can literally kill you."

Both burst into laughter as they turned back to the meeting room. They walked to the door hand in hand. Just before she entered, she released his hand, turned to him and said, "I love you too, Don." He smiled at this first-time declaration of hers.

They entered a room full of mischievous smiling faces; even Father Harkon couldn't contain himself.

"What's happening?" Donis asked with one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Grandmaster Tyrius was just on the comm, we're on call tonight," answered Pellos. Strange, why didn't he call me? Donis thought to himself.

As if reading his mind, Pellos continued. "He, ahhh, didn't want to interrupt your meeting with one of your subordinates. A very lively one if I heard correctly." Donis closed his eyes and bowed his head in embarrassment."

Rictus picked up from where Pellos left off, adding, "He also requests that if such a meeting is required again, that it not occur in a main hallway...especially in front of one of the main security cameras."

Donis' eyes snapped open as he stuck his head out the door. Sure enough, a camera was pointing down where he and Mara had been standing.

"Damn!" he said. The others could not contain their mirth any longer and burst into great fits of laughter. He looked to Mara for her reaction to this. To his amazement and relief, the usually emotionally fragile Mara was laughing along with the others. A beeping sound on his communicator indicated someone wanted to talk. He pushed a button on his wrist remote control and answered, "Donis."

A hardy chuckle on the other end told him who was on the other line, "Yes, Master?" Tyrius stopped laughing, "I see Pellos didn't waste any time," he observed.

"No he didn't, Master," said Donis, smiling.

"Do try to be more discreet with your... liaisons." Then his tone became more serious. "Do try to be more careful, my son. That lawyer Sheridan is really digging deep to find anything about you to deem heretical."

"I will, Master! What does the church require of us tonight?" he asked. "Reported disturbances at a cemetery not too far from here..."

"A necromancer! Damn, I hate them," Donis said, cutting Tyrius off.

"It could be nothing but...the police sent two officers to investigate the situation, they didn't return or call in. So I called for your group because..."

"Someone is building a small army in our midst — while it's nothing new — it is a bit too coincidental in light of recent events," Donis said, finishing the sentence off for him.

"God be with you, my son, and remember my words," Tyrius said, dismissing him.

Tyrius sighed. The part of him that was a commander of the Grey Templars understood the necessity. But the part of him that saw these men as sons always despaired at having to send them on missions that could end up killing them. His sombre mood passed as, just before he switched off his communicator, he heard Daedelis say, "Speaking of requests, Don, do you mind taking off your comms wrist control before you and young Mara go to bed? You have a tendency to accidentally turn on your comm during your... extra-curricular activities!"

This was followed by a low, "Damn," from Donis, which in turn was followed by a roaring wave of laughter from the other occupants of the meeting room.

Tyrius allowed himself a small smile, which went flat as there was a knock on the door and in walked Sheridan.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Sheridan?" he asked while he thought to himself, What are you looking for?

After the laughter had passed, Donis continued from where they left off, "So shall we continue? In answer to your question, Mara, the reason we didn't know about that particular incident that was recorded is that it is forbidden for us to read heretical texts."

"Why is that?" she asked.

Father Harkon answered for Donis, "Because it is widely held that to even just read the texts of a heretical nature can corrupt you."

"And yet you are allowed to?" she asked him.

"Yes, clergymen, due to their lack of desires or requirement of material needs, are considered incorruptible..." It was at this time Donis pointedly cleared his throat as a way of disagreeing with that statement. Considering less than a week earlier, Donis and his men had cleared out a cultist coven hideout that was led by a clergyman. Harkon had no option but to agree by saying. "...Though there are exceptions. Happy?" he asked Donis with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes!" Donis answered and then continued with, "Now that we have that out of the way, let's go onto tonight's assignment."

"What's the op, Captain?" Daedelis asked.

"Yes, what do we have the pleasure of doing today?" Rictus asked in addition. "Graveyard shift!" Donis answered with an ironic smile on his face.

"Awwww shit! So a necro, skellies and bee's! That's just great!" said Brackis in a none-too- happy tone.

"A what?" Mara and Harkon asked simultaneously.

"A necromancer, a mystic whose dark arts consist of reanimating the dead, which are either skeletons or zombies," Donis answered.

"Sounds like you've just walked into one of those old horror flicks. 'The dead rising to feed on human flesh' Mooohahahahaaaa..." Rictus started but cut himself short as he caught an unamused look on Donis' face.

"Sorry, it kinda sounded better in my head," Rictus apologised.

"Well the acoustics are better in an empty space so sounding better in 'your' head is understandable!" Donis said with a cruel expression on his face. "Now back to what I was saying. A necromancer is served by the living dead, which is why you two are staying back out of this op," he said to Mara and Harkon.

"What?" asked Father Harkon.

"Why?" asked Mara. "If this is about what happened before..."

Donis held up his hand to stop her, "No, it's not that, but skeletons and zombies are something only Templars are really able to deal with. Skeletons are only slightly slower than your average human and they can only be stopped by crushing the spine or skull. They're basically skeletal puppets with no intelligence to speak of, which means they need to be magically guided but it also means they can be armed.

"Zombies, on the other hand, are the recently departed, therefore, they still use their decayed brains. They possess a limited thought capacity, which makes them slow and incapable of weapon use. No cohesive thoughts other than to kill and feed on anything in the area range of their master's spell.

"Weighed against that, they feel no pain, no fear and when in sufficient numbers, they can even drag down a Templar. You can tear one to pieces and even the pieces will still try to kill you. Only the destruction of the necromancers' spell holding them up can truly stop them.

"An added nasty is that if you die, the spell that keeps them functioning will raise you as well. You'll try to kill your friends, your family, your lover, everyone!" He took a deep breath before he continued.

"That's why we can't have you there. If you die, you will join them. Or worse yet, if one of us fall, you will have to kill us and a zombified Templar is one of the worst things you could face."

Although his argument was finished, Mara could see the reasons he hadn't mentioned but she knew he had been thinking them. He didn't want to have to kill 'her' if she turned nor did he want her to die by his hands if 'he' turned.

"So anymore questions?" Donis asked, looking at Harkon and Mara. They shook their heads, convinced that Donis' decision was the most logical.

He turned to face the rest of his men as he asked, "Alright, gentlemen, weapons for tonight's op, Brac?"

Brackis seemed to think about it for a second, "Well, I would say bolt launchers with repeller ammunition for you and me. That should take care of the skeletons and keep the zombies off our backs until Pel finds the necromancer."

Donis turned to Rictus, "Ric?"

"It's gonna be too tight in there for anything heavy that can really hurt them, so I'll have to go for the same as you two," answered Rictus.

"Agreed!" said Donis "Alright people, let's move, we've got eight hours to get it all ready and get some sleep. We have to be ready to hit the place at sunset. I just remembered we have some things at that cemetery that I hope the necro doesn't know about." The other Templars knew what he meant and moved off to their assigned duties.

"Why sunset?" Harkon asked.

"Because necromantic arts can only be performed in the absence of sunlight," Donis answered.

"What things do you have at that cemetery that the necro could want?" Mara asked.

"Just some old friends of mine. We'll be staying here to sleep until we're assigned new lodgings. The Padre can show you where." Without another word and a quick peck on the cheek, he walked off to make his own preparations for the upcoming mission.

## Grave Times

The four armoured figures stalked through the graveyard of Rockwood Cemetery, their weapons up and ready to fire. They couldn't see anyone but a distant theatrical moaning sound; 'Aghhhhhh' told them that zombies were near.

"I hate it when they do that!" whispered Rictus.

"Shhh," Donis hushed him. A faint noise could be heard along with the moaning. It was like wood creaking and the ground in front of the nearest tombstones was heaving like something was trying to push its way out. Nobody needed to be told; they all quickened their pace.

"Sir, the enemy has been sighted!" Donis heard Pellos state over his communicator. "Where?" Donis asked.

"About two hundred metres ahead of your position," Pellos replied.

Donis looked ahead but could see nothing but darkness. It was then he noticed that the ground in front of him was freshly dug. It was a long trench about forty metres long; strange he thought to himself. He then brought his mind back to the matter at hand of the apparently sighted necromancer.

"You sure, Pel?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm looking right at him!" Pellos said.

As the words left his mouth, he noticed a flicker in the image of the necromancer. When he looked more intently at the figure below and in front of his position, he noticed it was slightly transparent. Son of a bitch, an illusion, he thought to himself. He looked back at where Donis and the others were. To his horror, he saw a complete square outline of freshly dug dirt.

"Oh shit! Donis, back off, it's a trap, it's a..."

Donis and the others were trotting when they heard Pellos' warning. Unknown to them, they stopped right in the centre of the square outline. They started to retreat but it was too late, the trap had been sprung.

A brilliant white light stung their eyes as a ball of energy appeared above them, illuminating the scene around them.

"Welcome to my parlour said the spider to the fly," said an old raspy voice. At first, all they saw was an old man with stooped shoulders, short well-groomed hair and a trimmed goatee. As the light expanded slightly, they saw on either side of him two younger acolytes. All three were similarly attired with long flowing crimson robes lined with gold trimming. The acolytes' heads were bowed as if in prayer.

The light expanded once again to reveal a small horde of zombies slowly approaching the area behind the necromancer. About fifty or so of the walking corpses in varying states of decay stumbled past their master. Loose flesh hung off wasting bodies and rotting skin stretched taught over decayed muscles.

"Situation seems 'not too bad,' Captain! There are only fifty of them," Rictus said to Donis.

"Rise, my dead children, rise!" chanted the necromancer. His voice carried across the thirty or so meters between them. The earth in the trenches surrounding the Templars began to shift. It was as if something were pushing its way up through the dirt. A canvas cover was lifted off to reveal its surprise. Two hundred skeletons crawled out of the trenches. Their bare bones clicked as they moved, which created a sort of horrid melody.

As the unholy creatures surrounded them, Rictus turned to Donis and said, "Better make that the situation seems 'not too good,' Captain!"

"And it's about to get worse!" added Brackis with his head cocked to the side as if he could hear something. They all then heard a heavy clanking sound as if someone were walking in heavy armour; almost as if their movements were jerky and the protective plates were clanging against one another.

While Donis and his men were far taller than the skeletons and zombies slowly surrounding them, the latest monstrosities that entered the field of light were at the least equal and in two cases greater than the Templars' height. There were four of them. Three of them shambled forward; their spoiled flesh instilling a great sense of revulsion in Donis. The fourth one moved a lot faster but his movements were disjointed and non-fluid. Revulsion soon changed to sadness as Donis recognised the faces of the three zombified Templars. The fourth having died a lot earlier was merely an armoured skeleton that he could not recognise. He turned to Rictus and asked, "How does the situation look now, Ric?"

"How does 'screwed up' sound, sir?" Rictus answered as he raised his bolt launcher, fired and ratcheted another repeller round and fired again. The first impacted an approaching skeleton; the impact initiated the repulsion field. A milky blue sphere of energy expanded from the bolt. The skeleton hit was ripped apart; the concussion wave of the repulsion field tore through the joints holding its bones together. Two skeletons on either side of the targeted skeleton were sent flying.

Although limbs were ripped off by the impact, amazingly, both continued crawling their way toward Donis and his men despite this. The second bolt grazed a zombie's shoulder and activated the repulsion field as it bounced off its initial target. Four zombies were hit by the field as it went off in their midst. Two were hit in the back and sent sprawling forward. The other two were hit front on and reeled backwards. As the hit zombies stood back up and started walking again, the Templars saw that no obvious effect had taken place. They then noticed one walked with a limp courtesy of a snapped ankle but despite this, the creature continued to still walk on the busted limb. Donis looked about himself; they were dead if things stayed this way. If they stayed on the defensive, they would be overrun in a matter of minutes.

"Pel, talk to me! Can you get him?" Donis asked into his comm.

"Negative, sir! He's got a load of bees between him and myself. He knows I'm here, boss, he's got about ten of them under me and trying to climb up here!"

It's times like this I wish I were a sniper, he began thinking to himself.

It was then Pellos realised something; in his arrogance, the necromancer had left himself standing far too close to Pellos' position; falsely assured that with him trapped up in the tree he was safe from any attack from that quarter. He was mistaken as Pellos drew out his pistol and took aim.

The laser-sighting dot appeared on the back of the necromancer's head.

"Sir, I've got him!" Pellos announced as he fired. The bright green blast streaked across the distance in less than a second. It flew straight and true at its mark but it was deflected about a foot short of its target by some unseen protective field.

"Damn it! Captain, he's protected by some sort of mystic shield..." It was then Pellos felt a hand grab his ankle. A zombie had managed to claw its way up to his branch. It pulled itself forward, intending to bring his foot into range of its foul and disgustingly rotted teeth.

Pellos aimed and fired his pistol. At such a close range, the zombie's arm was severed at mid- forearm. As it lost its balance, Pellos pushed himself slightly off the branch and rolled through the air, lashing out with his other leg. His foot crashed against its jaw, sending it flying off the branch. He completed the roll and landed back on the branch in his original position.

He then heard Donis on the comm, "Pel, go for the acolytes, they must be holding the field over him, take them out now!"

Pellos didn't waste any time; he drew bead on the acolyte closest to him and fired. This time the projectile hit. The acolyte fell as it entered his back and burst out of his chest in a gout of blood.

Strangely, the other acolyte stiffened, fell to his knees then landed flat on his face, where he convulsed for several seconds and then lay still. Pellos pressed a button on his belt and two small lenses extracted themselves from his respirator on little mechanical arms and settled in front of his eyes. Like binoculars, they magnified his sight so he could see the blow dart jutting out from the base of the dead man's head. Pellos recognised the dart's craftsmanship; it had a tiny skull on the end of it signifying that it was poisoned. Blade Wind, it's gotta be Blade Wind! he thought to himself.

He shifted his view as he said, "Sir, the acolytes have been eliminated...Whoa shit!"

Pellos threw himself off the branch as his magnified view picked out movement; it was the necromancer whose hands were drawn back above his head. In each hand formed a ball of dark midnight-blue energy surrounded by thin veins of purple lightning. The necromancer threw out both hands and the evil balls of energy flew out, one aimed at him and the other at another tree a small distance to his right. As the ball aimed at him came closer, he noticed that it was in the shape of a screaming skull. Pellos' free hand thrust out to grab the same branch he fell off; his fall halted as his hand grasped the branch. His gun hand was held high as the energy ball shot low over the branch. It passed through the pistol, shearing the front clean off. Pellos looked with resignation at the sparking ruin that was his pistol. Suddenly, he felt a sharp jolt as a pulling sensation hit his feet.

Donis paused as he saw Pellos discard his pistol to gain an extra grip on the branch as a sea of questing dead hands grasped at his dangling feet. He saw at least two zombies latch onto Pellos' legs as he tried to pull himself clear. He succeeded in getting clear of the un-dead crowd below, but with two still hanging off him, he couldn't pull himself back onto the branch. Donis did the calculations in moments. At best, Pellos could hold for a few minutes, then his muscles would fatigue and he would fall into what would be, in all likelihood, certain death.

Donis surmised they themselves only had a few minutes before they were overrun. He finally caught a glimpse of the necromancer over the crowd of approaching un-dead. As he scanned the battle field, he noticed the right flank consisted mainly of skeletons. With this in mind, he quickly formulated a plan and conveyed it to his men.

"Ric and Brac, concentrate on whittling down the right flank. Try to clear a path for us. Dae, you and I will cover their backs!" With that said, Rictus and Brackis poured as much of their fire power into the right flank. Repulsion fields blossomed along the centre of the approaching right flank, tearing skeletons apart.

Donis drew his sword and holstered his bolt launcher and he pressed a button on his left forearm guard. From the single protective plate connected to the guard rotated out several other plates to form a complete oval shield. Daedelis dragged out his two military picks as he moved to face the front ranks of the enemy while Donis moved off to face the left flank.

Both Templars charged in at their respective targets and their first few foes were decimated. Donis cleanly sliced through neck and limb, severed spines and crushed skulls with sword and shield alike. At the front ranks, bodies were flung left and right with huge gaping wounds in them as well as huge sections of ribcage smashed in as Daedelis lay in with his two heavy weapons. Despite this brave show, things were not going their way. The enemy just kept coming and they were slowly forced back.

The situation became more dire as skeletons and zombies were pushed aside as two large figures engaged Donis and the third zombified Templar attacked Daedelis. Both Donis and Daedelis inched backwards while deflecting blows and striking out occasionally in order not to be surrounded.

Donis blocked a high blow from the dead Templar on his left. He then lashed out with his sword, smashing the skull of a skeleton that tried to flank him. His arms were a whirlwind; he flung his shield around to block another blow on his left. His sword swung around to sever the right dead Templar's hands at the wrist as it reached out to grab hold of him. The loss of its hands didn't stop the dead Templar as it lunged forward with its head, its foul and rotten teeth flashing for his face in an attempt to bite him. It staggered back off balance as Donis smashed his shield into its face. He spun on his heel and slashed with his sword, aiming for the other dead Templar's neck, but it was deflected by its shoulder guard. He planted a side kick into its pelvic region, which bowed it over. Instead of pressing the attack, he wisely chose to back off. He struck left and right as he retreated and was becoming more and more frequently surrounded. Daedelis' situation was no better. He activated his shield as he lost his grip on his left hand's military pick as it held fast, embedded in the shoulder guard of the dead Templar facing him. He saw some success as his right hand's military pick parried a blow from the Templar skeleton and then proceeded to smash its skull in, after which it fell lifeless to the ground. Overall, though, the situation looked dire indeed; the noose was tightening. It appeared being overwhelmed was inevitable.

The necromancer Kelman could also see this.

"Why do they even try? Can't they see it's a doomed defence?" he asked no one in particular as he stepped closer in order to get a better view.

Indeed, he was correct in his summation, or at least he would've been if Donis' objective had revolved around the defensive. But Donis' plan wasn't defensive; it was an offensive and the necromancer saw it too late.

"Captain...we're clear on the right flank!" Donis heard Brackis say on his comm. Donis stepped back a couple of steps so he could turn and have a look at Brackis and Rictus' handiwork.

Together, they had decimated the right flank, its original compliment of fifty-plus skeletons had been cut down to only ten. Not enough to hold back one Templar let alone four.

"Alright people, this is what we're going to do: Ric, Brac you make for the right flank, Dae, like we did in the vampire alleyway, then you follow them out OK! Go!"

Brackis and Rictus made a break for it, attacking all the while. Those skeletons that weren't torn apart by repeller rounds were clubbed down and broken by swings of their bolt launchers. Only after they had cleared twenty meters from their original position did they turn around to see what Donis and Daedelis were doing.

Donis and Daedelis by comparison hadn't moved much; they were still backing up slowly. They'd be surrounded in moments if they stayed any longer. When only meters from one another, Donis looked over his shoulder as he shouted, "Dae, now!"

Donis lashed out one last time and then jumped back so that he was in line with Daedelis' back. Daedelis made one last wild swing that knocked over anything in close proximity to him as he turned to face Donis who now stood six meters away. At the same time, he positioned his weapon hand under his shield. Donis then dashed forward, leaving a shadowing silhouette trailing behind him, reaching speeds in six meters that no other runner could hope to duplicate. Donis then leapt onto the shield. With a heavy inhalation of breath, Daedelis heaved and with an astonishing display of strength, he launched Donis into the air. Weighing heavier than Pellos, Donis could only be thrown up to half the height that the former had. Still, he managed to reach twenty feet and with the momentum gained from his initial burst, he seemed to sail over the wall of undead minions.

The world around him seemed to slow down, almost as if it were underwater. He wasn't delusional though, he knew the world wasn't moving slowly. But his mind and body were working at such speeds that it only appeared that way. His acute senses and picture-perfect memory allowed him to take in the scenes surrounding him. To his right he saw Daedelis running toward Rictus and Brackis, barging over anything that got in his way. In front stood the necromancer who was frozen in shock at Donis' actions. As he looked to his left, his heart broke as he saw yet another raised Templar skeleton shambling along in its armour. This one, however, was different. It was smaller than the others...a Templar child. Of the few that had fallen at such a young age, Donis knew of only one buried there.

Donis had no doubts in his mind whatsoever that he was looking at his childhood brother in arms, Silas arisen. Seeing his lost friend in a most disgusting parody of life after death angered Donis beyond all reasoning. The man was no longer in control; the beast inside now had command.

No thoughts of defence or strategy, it was all about hunting down the prey. His gaze once again fell upon the necromancer as sheer, unadulterated anger like hot lava burned through his brain. He landed in front of his target and in a fit of brute savagery, tore him apart. The first slash removed one arm, the second cut away the other, a spin and another slash removed the necromancer's head. Before it hit the ground, it all exploded in a puff of dark purple smoke. Donis seethed with rage as it was a decoy, a mystical copy; he had been duped again. He looked around but saw no sign of his quarry. He stopped as his sights fell upon a scene of sheer desperation. Most of the still standing zombies and skeletons in the cemetery had fallen to the ground, once again lifeless, except those still trying to drag Pellos to his death.

Pellos had no hope; although he had lifted his feet clear of the crowd below, the two zombies hanging onto his feet were still within reach. The other zombies pulled and climbed up the two hanging from him, who unlike Pellos, didn't feel muscle fatigue and so their death grips never slackened. Pellos felt his arms giving way; he knew he was going to drop and when he did he was dead. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of something moving fast, a shadow with a glint of light sticking out the side of it.

'Shhhink,' as it passed by the group below, three zombies fell to the ground cut cleanly in half at the mid-section. Despite this, they still tried in vain to attack. Pellos watched as the shadow solidified into Donis as he stopped for a moment. Then his form blurred again as he darted back in. Another pass and three more zombies fell, now only four remained; the two that still continued to hold onto him and another two that had in turn climbed up them. The shadow darted through the air first on the left side and then back on the right. The two outer zombies fell to the ground, their arms severed at their forearms. Pellos struggled to dislodge the last two zombies as one had managed to climb up to the only unarmoured place on his body: his face. Struggle as he did without the use of his arms — it was hopeless. It was then he noticed Donis had materialised again.

He stood in front of Pellos, his sword sheathed, a Templar pistol in each hand. "Close your eyes, Pel!" Donis ordered him.

Pellos complied as he knew the reason for this was that with his eyes open and Donis' shooting so close, he might move to avoid getting hit. In doing so, he might inadvertently put himself in front of an incoming plasma bolt. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was the zombie's face lunging for his with its disgusting teeth bared.

Not more than a millisecond later, Pellos heard a rainstorm of plasma blasts sizzle past him.

Some came so close to his face he could feel the heat they emitted.

Pellos must have heard twenty individual shots in just over five seconds; he opened his eyes as he felt the two zombies fall off him.

He looked around and saw the two charred corpses; chunks of flesh had been blown right off as had limbs. The one that had been about to bite him had no face to speak of. All that remained of it was a few pieces of blackened flesh. He began to feel sick as the nauseating smell of cooked meat hit him but he immediately forgot about it as he saw Donis.

His old friend was exhausted from his present and previous exertions. Breathing hard and crouched over, it looked to Pellos like he couldn't catch his breath at all. Pellos then saw Donis straighten up and suck in a deep breath. However, this inhalation wasn't an attempt to get his breath back; he had smelled something; now he was hunting. Pellos was still holding onto the branch even though his arms were dying and felt like they were going to fall off. But it mattered little to him now; he didn't dare drop down. The last place one wanted to be was in the way of a Templar on the hunt, lest he wished to make himself the prey. He then saw Donis tense up and stare at something in the distance.

They'd been tricked twice using their sight; Donis wasn't taking any chances this time around.

His keen sense of smell had pinpointed the direction of his prey. With his limited knowledge of necromantic spells and his logical thinking brain, he calculated the distance. A tree was where he had approximated. He drew out one of his pistols and his sword as he stalked toward his target about twenty meters away.

The necromancer Kelman felt fear swamp him, the remainder of his army had now crumbled due to him not being able to maintain the required distance of the spell he was channeling through his now destroyed mystic copy. Worse than this, his prey was now the hunter and approaching his current position. Deciding to abandon his deal with Kavouris in order to save his life, he started to weave the magic that would help him escape.

When Donis was ten meters away from the tree, he dashed forward. He moved slightly slower than usual due to his exhausted state but he was still too fast for a human to catch sight of. Just as he passed the tree, he flipped and twisted so that he landed on one knee, facing the tree. The instant he landed, he squeezed off two rounds at where he surmised the necromancer's legs would be. They blasted into the tree, sending chips of bark in every direction, but of the necromancer there was no sign.

Kelman's eyes widened with terror as he recognised his attacker, but he couldn't even scream as he opened his mouth though no sound came out. As he had been casting the spell that would affect his escape, he had failed to notice the loop of near invisible cord that lowered behind him. It swung forward and turned to loop itself under his chin, and before he knew what was happening, he was yanked up into the air. He soon realised his assailant must've been standing on the branch above his head. As he was launched into the air, the cord went slack and he felt a hand grab the back of his collar and lift him the rest of the way. Before he was put down, his assailant — whilst he was still being carried — jumped to the branch of another tree close by. He felt something cut across his chest just before he was lowered to sit down on the branch. As he noticed five barbed metallic claws dripping with fresh blood...his blood, he felt his tongue swell and his throat close and his limbs felt like balls of lead. It was then he got a close look at his kidnapper.

It was an alien face he had not seen before; it was the ritual tattoos and the clothing that brought recognition to his mind. He tried to scream; he'd take Templar justice as opposed to this butcher's methods...he opened his mouth but no sound came out. He could barely breathe let alone scream. A low, inaudible moan was all that could escape his lips as he saw the dark figure pull out a small machete and grab one of his hands.

The Templars found Donis on his knees staring at the tree in front of him. When they all stood before him, Rictus asked, "What happened, Don? Where is the necro?"

"The bastard got away...I screwed up...again!" Donis said without looking up at them.

All of their shoulders slumped at this news as the realisation hit them that they had failed. All they'd just done had come to naught...

They turned their heads as they heard an audible thud from the base of a nearby tree. Brackis went to investigate and a moment later, he called out to them, "Ahh I don't think it was a total loss..."

"You found the necro?" Donis asked whilst turning to face the direction Brackis had gone in.

"What's left of him anyway..." Brackis responded. The disgust could clearly be heard in his voice.

Puzzled looks passed over their faces as Donis jumped to his feet and they all ran to where Brackis stood and saw for themselves.

The body was slumped against a tree, its mouth frozen open wide in a sort of silent scream.

The eyes conveyed only one emotion: sheer, unadulterated terror. They all swallowed back bile as they got closer and saw what had been done to him.

They saw that both hands had been hacked off and his tongue cut out. From their awkward and deformed look, it appeared his arms had been broken. Donis — also the group's medic — moved forward as he removed a gauntlet; he then opened the necromancer's robe slightly and felt around.

"All his ribs have been broken," he reported to no one in particular and as his hand went lower, he drew it back suddenly. A look of revulsion appeared across his face. It was then they noticed the hand he drew back was slicked with blood. Donis swallowed and winced as he told the others, "He's been gutted!"

He pulled open the robe to expose the corpse's chest but left the opened stomach concealed. He saw what he expected to find a verse cut into the flesh. He read it aloud.

No more shall your evil tongue be used to raise the rested...

Never again will your hands weave and wield dark magics...

Your wings are broken; they can no longer carry you on the dark winds...

You have raised the skeletal dead, only so that their bones may be broken...

And now so have yours...

You have awoken beings of ruination, so that their flesh maybe torn and their guts spilled...

And now so have yours...'

In larger letters below the verse, they all saw the word 'Redeemed' on it.

Donis looked to the treetops above, "Very poetic, Blade Wind, but we could've used him alive!" He called out.

"My apologies, Captain, I'll try not to be so inconsiderate next time," a voice called back as its owner retreated. Donis shook his head in defeat; none of them could hope to catch him, let alone fight him in their present states.

"Next time you will be at my mercy," Donis muttered in a poisonous tone.

As the sun started to rise, it revealed five armoured figures carrying another five armoured bodies. Although one seemed to be carrying a smaller body than the rest, this Templar seemed to be struggling the most as his shoulders heaved with heavy sobbing.

## Just Passing on Through

Sunrise saw five very ragged-looking Templars enter Humanity's Haven. Pellos hobbled to the infirmary while the other four Templars walked toward the shower rooms. They stopped when a call came on their communicators from Humanity's Haven's communication system. "Captain Donis, please come to the Space Range Centre."

Rictus looked at Donis as he said, "Looks like visitors."

"Let's go find out," was Donis' reply.

They walked through the maze-like corridors until they reached their destination. They walked through a doorway and into a large room that had all sorts of displays and machines taking up a lot of the space in the room. A human technician in a white lab coat approached them. "Captain, our long-range scanners picked up a ship travelling in stealth mode through our sector."

"What was the ship's signature?" Donis asked. "Foreign, sir," the technician replied.

Could be an allied race or a not-too-bright enemy race, Donis thought to himself. "Are the gun emplacements ready?" he asked the technician, referring to the large cannons they had floating out in space in the event of an attack from space.

"I don't think we'll need them, sir; whoever they are, they've hailed us and asked for you and Grand Master Tyrius," answered the technician.

"Put them on the communication screen," Donis ordered the technician.

A huge display screen dominating one of the walls flickered on to show a being who superficially looked human but on closer inspection you could notice differences.

He was about five foot six inches in height; the crimson robe he wore showed a body that was lean yet muscular. He had long, light brown hair pulled back in a top knot. But it was his eyes that really showed he wasn't human; the eyes themselves were larger than a human's and the irises dominated a lot more of the white of the eye than a human's did. Donis relaxed as his mind collated these features and recognised the caller as a member of the Dan-Yeeki race.

The Dan-Yeeki were a space-faring race whose culture was dominated by the studying of the arts, but they also placed a lot of dedication into the art of war; each man and woman was trained from birth to fight. This has come from being surrounded by enemies trying to subjugate them. From the war-like morlocks to the Dan-Yeeki's own piratical cousins, the dan-yale. The Dan-Yeeki had been a valuable and much-needed ally of man since they first started travelling across the cosmos.

Donis now smiled as he recognised the caller as an old comrade, "Commander Kaelis, what a pleasant surprise," Donis said by way of greeting.

"Captain Donis, always a pleasure," replied the man Donis referred to as Kaelis who continued with, "As it is to see you as well, Grand Master Tyrius." Donis turned with a surprised look on his face as he saw Tyrius standing next to him as he replied with, "And you, Commander."

Kaelis chuckled as he said, "Given the Captain's expression, I assume Templars get sneakier as they get older."

All three men laughed at the light-hearted joke. Soon after this, Donis dismissed the technician and asked, "OK, Kaelis, can I ask why you're coming in stealthed in our little sector of space?"

All traces of humour disappeared from Kaelis' face as he answered with, "Absolutely, I apologise for the intrusion. To be honest, I was so focused on my mission I didn't know I was in your sector until my ship almost bumped into one of your tracking stations. Now as to my mission, my men and I are hunting down a morlock raiding party."

Donis took this information in. The morlocks were another space-faring alien race, but unlike the Dan-Yeeki, they had no redeemable qualities to make them an ally of humanity. They were a war-loving race whose sole purpose in life was to find the biggest and best fights. Short of that, raping and pillaging were also favourite hobbies of theirs. Though barbaric and uncultured on any civilised level they were some the most fearsome opponents you could find on a battleground. They were trained for war as soon as they could walk.

Donis had faced them before and had never forgotten their fearsome countenance. Their height average was two metres and their average weight being about one hundred and fifty kilograms. Their faces resembled that of a demonic pig with horns sprouting from the skull and two big tusks protruding from their lower jaw on either of their big snouts.

His mental review of the morlocks only having taken seconds, Donis didn't miss a beat when he asked Kaelis, "What happened?"

Kaelis sighed as he answered, "They raided a Dan-Yeeki settlement on one of our planets not too far from here. There were no survivors; the men they killed straight away, but the women and children suffered the likes of which I have not seen in my lifetime. I'll spare you the details but let's just say it was far from civilised. There were only fifty morlocks in the raiding group. I'm certain they are part of a larger group so I'm shadowing them until they lead us back to their leader. Once they do, we'll obliterate them, every single one."

There was a pause as they took in what had just been said.

Then Tyrius spoke up, "Kaelis, you have our permission to continue on and our blessing in dealing with that scum. We'll alert our fellow Templar orders around the globe that you're not to be stopped again. If we can help in any way, just ask."

"Thank you, Grand Master, I'll take my leave now and continue the hunt. Kaelis, out," with that said, the screen went blank.

"This week just gets better and better, doesn't it?" Donis asked Tyrius.

"Truly a week of many tragedies," answered Tyrius, after which they both exited the Space Range Centre.
CHAPTER 11

# The Gathering  
Part 1

After having picked up Pellos from the infirmary, the Templars hit the showers. Thirty minutes later, they exited the shower rooms in fresh civilian clothing. Father Harkon came walking down the corridor.

"Gentlemen, how did the mission go?" he asked as he came within a few meters of them. They filled him in on what had occurred, with the necromancer's demise at Blade Wind's hand and the recent visit from the Dan-Yeeki hunting party.

"A shame that you couldn't question him to see if he was in league with Kavouris. It would've made things a bit easier here." He then looked away; he seemed very ill at ease.

"What's wrong, Padre?" Donis asked as he noticed Harkon's troubled look.

"Mr. Sheridan...He ahhh wanted to speak to you about you leaving your appointed watcher behind when on a mission," he said nervously.

"And who alerted him to this fact?" Pellos asked.

"I did..." Harkon answered as he bowed his head in shame.

The usually neutral looks he was accustomed to were now all suspicious, except for Donis.' "I'm sorry, but I have to report everything," he explained.

"You know, Padre, I'm really starting not to like you right now!" Rictus said in disappointment as he wagged a finger at Harkon.

Harkon opened his mouth but was cut off by Donis who said, "Forget it," almost as if he had read Harkon's intention to apologise. "We all have a job to do and yours is no easy task." He took a deep breath. "Now, as for Mr. Sheridan, let's go get this over with."

Father Harkon had a crooked smile on his face as he said, "Oh, there's no need, see Mr. Sheridan did want to speak to you. That is, until I told him that it was my idea that you go without me." Then he assumed a more serious face. "But something does bother me, Captain, more than lying to Mr. Sheridan."

"What is that, Padre?" Donis asked.

"How many more sins will I commit under your bad influence," he said dramatically.

Donis snorted a laugh, "Good Padre, very good...Alright, I have to go get the key cards to our new place since the old one got the shit shot out of it!"

Harkon held up a set of five key cards, "Already done! Mara's gone ahead to go cook something. I hope you don't mind my taking the liberty of choosing a place but it has a grocery store and a dry cleaner nearby. It also has a local bar so you don't have to travel far at times when you need to unwind or are in the mood for companionship."

Rictus walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder, "You know, Padre, I'm really starting to like you now!" Their laughter echoed throughout the hallway as they made their way to the exit to go to their new home.

Ten minutes later, their ATV came to a stop in front of a building none too different from their old apartment. As they walked to the front door, Donis was smiling at some witticism Rictus had made. His smile went flat as he saw the front door. A small section of the glass had been cut out in order for the cutter to reach in and unlock the door. Donis burst through the door of the first unit with his pistol at the ready and his heart pounding with an overwhelming panic. He ran into the main room and stopped dead in his tracks. He held his breath as he saw two bodies on the floor. He started breathing again when he noticed both corpses were wearing military attire like those that had attacked their previous abode. They had been killed by a large kitchen knife, which lay on the floor slicked with blood. It appeared Mara hadn't gone down without a fight. After his men had followed him in, they all fanned out.

Pellos returned from the bedroom and announced, "Two more bodies in there...no sign of Mara though." A few moments later, the others came back and reported the same. But Donis wasn't listening. He followed a trail of bloody footprints leading to the bedroom.

"Don, where are you going?" Rictus asked. "Pel's already been in there!"

"I know!" Donis snapped; there were tears in his eyes as he took a deep breath to compose himself. "I'm just retracing her steps. Maybe we can find a clue as to where they went." He turned around so that they couldn't see the agonised expression on his face. He entered the bedroom and saw the footprints stop at the end of the room. At his feet lay two more corpses in military garb. Throwing knives protruded from one corpse's throat and the other's chest. A small splotch of blood had marked the floor just behind them.

Talking himself through it, Donis re-enacted the scene.

"She came in here to grab her weapons...She took out the first two with her throwing knives...She wounded a third with another...A fourth man came in, a big man judging by the footprints he left after stepping into the blood of the others...Size thirteens...The fight was over quick, no blood..."

Sadly, that was all he could glean from the scene. He sank to his knees as futility flooded over him. Pellos came in to see his captain in despair. He moved forward to comfort his friend but he stopped halfway. He tilted his head as he noticed something with his super-keen hearing.

"What's that noise?" Donis' eyes snapped open as he concentrated and then he too could hear the faintest of noises. It was an insistent 'beep, beep, beep.' It was coming from the bed. Donis moved toward it. Pellos couldn't see anything on it. However, from his vantage point on his hands and knees, Donis saw something under the bed. It looked like it had been put there haphazardly; as if someone had just quickly kicked it under there.

Donis smiled as he picked it up, "That's my girl!" he said. "What is it?" asked Pellos.

As he held up the object, which appeared to be nothing more than some sort of small display screen. "It's her tracking display for that knife of hers. Which is probably stuck in that wounded heretic, which means we now have a trail to follow. He rushed out of the room, "Come on, let's go!" he said with a renewed vigor and energy that lifted his men's hearts. They exited the apartment and jumped into their ATV, which peeled away from the curb and sped off down the road.

They drove for an hour. The beeping sound on the display got faster and the dot on the display got closer to the centre of the screen.

"It's only a couple of hundred metres from here!" he told Daedelis who was driving.

"Ahhh Don..." Daedelis started. Donis looked up and saw a body on the road...Their ATV came to a screeching stop just before it. They all got out to examine the body; it was another of the heretical military men.

"Mara, do you think?" Pellos asked. Donis shook his head. The man's neck had been broken. "Not her style; besides, this guy's head has been rotated 180 degrees the wrong way. She couldn't do that! It must've been our large friend from the apartment," Donis stated.

"But why?" Rictus asked.

"They figured out about the tracking knife!" answered Brackis, pointing at the hilt sticking out of the man's shoulder.

"Why not just pull it out?" asked Daedelis.

"It's barbed! It would've taken surgery to get it out and they wanted it gone quickly in case we followed," answered Donis.

"How do you know it's bar...Oh never mind!" Rictus stopped as Donis raised his hand, showing the slightly scarred area where Mara had hit him with that same knife.

"All very well and good, but doesn't this mean we've lost them?" asked Father Harkon. "Possibly, Padre, but this road only leads to a few..." Donis stopped, he wrinkled his nose as he caught a whiff of a familiar scent. "What is that smell?" he asked the others.

"It's our friend here!" Rictus said, pointing at the corpse. "Kind of salty!"

Donis' memory flashed. The mystic that had attacked them at their old apartment had a stale salty smell just like this man. He was silent for a moment as he was lost in thought.

"I've got it!" he shouted, startling all of them. "Salt water! This guy and that mystic, they've both been staying near the ocean!"

"There's a salt water treatment plant about twenty kilometres down this road. It would be a good place for them to hide; it's completely self-automated," Daedelis chimed in.

"Get out a map," Donis ordered.

Pellos whipped out a display unit about one foot by one foot in size, which showed a display of the whole city. He tapped twice on a particular part of the map. It then centered and enlarged the image. He punched a button on the side of the device. It brought up a 3D display of three long rectangular buildings. All three buildings sat one next to the other, located the near the edge of where the land met the ocean.

"Shiiit!" cursed Donis.

"What's wrong?" asked Father Harkon.

"Three buildings, Padre, three possibilities, too many for all of us. We need more men." With that said, he walked away from them and clicked a button on his communicator's wrist remote.

"Yes?" he heard Grand Master say.

"Master, I have a request of the utmost importance..." Donis explained the situation, "We need another two squads in order to conduct an effective entrance."

"Sounds reasonable...but you know the law. We need his Holiness' permission and that could take awhile."

Donis' heart sank until a thought popped into his head. "What about Father Alexis? He's still there, isn't he?" Donis asked hopefully.

"Why yes, he's right here, just a minute." Donis waited as Tyrius explained it all to Father Alexis.

"Donis, it's a go! The good father believes this is an opportunity too good to miss..."

"I object to this...this obscenity!" Donis rolled his eyes as he heard Sheridan interrupt his Master.

"The law specifically states that Templar groups can only work together, when approved by the Pope himself — not one of his priests!"

"Mr Sheridan!" Tyrius said in a raised voice. "I tire of your constant eavesdropping and bursting into my office unannounced or without my permission! Lastly, I am aghast that you would dismiss Father Alexis' authority so lightly; he is the Pope's representative!"

Father Alexis smiled at Sheridan who scowled back at him.

"This is not the end of this! I will now call the High Courts and inform them of this blatant disregard for our order's rules!"

Tyrius stood up drawing himself up to his full height. He then looked down at Sheridan. "Then you shall do it outside my office!" He motioned to two Templars stationed at his door. "Gentlemen, escort Mr. Sheridan into the corridor. If he tries to enter again without my leave, shoot him!"

"With pleasure, Grand Master," said one of the Templars with a smile who then motioned to Sheridan with his pistol.

"Gladly!" said Sheridan just before he stormed out, dialling on his communicator at the same time. Father Alexis looked at Tyrius with astonishment, "So, Father, what say you?"

"First things first, let me call the High Courts to undo any legal problems we might face because of that fool." He called up on his own communicator and placed in a queue. He looked at Tyrius after waiting a few minutes, "On second thought, Grand Master, screw it, this is going to take awhile. Send out the request and I'll explain the urgency to his Holiness. He'll understand."

Tyrius switched his communicator to all Templar frequencies. "All Templar squads, this is Grand Master Tyrius. We have a request for two squads to assist. Captain Donis needs assistance at the salt water treatment plant just outside the city. Are there any volunteers?"

He switched back onto just Donis, "OK, we have two squads coming your way now. Sergeant Hulius and his men just cleared out a vampire nest not too far from your position. Titus' group is en-route, ETA thirty minutes."

"Titus? He volunteered to leave the fortress and help me?" asked a clearly shocked Donis. "Maybe he's had a change of heart?" hypothesised Tyrius.

"He'd have to have had one to change in the first place," Donis retorted. "Now you behave yourself, remember the mission comes first!"

"Yes, Master; Donis, out." With a touch of his wrist control, he hung up. Donis turned to his squad, "Alright, boys, let's get it started, weapons...Brac?"

"It looks like we're gonna be underwater for at least a bit of this operation, so I'd say Bolt Launchers for everyone. For inside dry areas, I'd say our pistols will be fine but it could get a tad close in there so I'll be at the front with a Flame Sprayer."

"Donis nodded his approval, "Right, Ric?"

"Well for underwater, I'd say a 'Whaler,' for dry I got nothing that safe in close confines, so I'll stick to my pistol," answered Rictus.

"Right, OK, let's get it done, our backup will be here soon..."

Sergeant Hulius and his group arrived ten minutes later. Donis greeted him with, "Sergeant, you took your time."

Hulius smiled at that as he replied with, "Sorry, Captain, had a flat tire."

Donis chuckled as he looked at Hulius' ATV, which had no conventional wheels. "A big nest?" Donis asked him in a serious manner, the joke now forgotten.

Hulius shook his head, "They only had three full bloods and five fledglings."

"And the Master?" Donis asked.

"Yes, we nailed him first from afar and then finished off the full bloods. We had gotten word that a few people had gone missing in that area. So after what happened with you, we decided to investigate. Luckily, they hadn't recruited too many."

Yet another example of this Kavouris' planning, Donis thought to himself, shaking his head. "Good work, Hulius, let's get your men ready. No armour, body suits only, its underwater and a tight squeeze down there."

"Yes, sir!" Hulius said as he moved off to advise his men.

Twenty minutes later, Titus pulled up in his ATV, got out and walked over to Donis. He nodded his head at him as he said, "Donis."

Donis nodded back as he replied, "Titus, good to see you out and about."

"Good to be out and about!" Titus said with a grin. "Thank you for accepting my company."

"Thank you for volunteering," Donis responded.

"We all know how much she...this mission means to you," Titus said. He then grabbed his suit's camera microphone and rubbed his fingers over it, warbling the sound as he leaned forward as Donis did the same with his equipment. He spoke conspiratorially, "If she's there, Donis, we'll get her back." He extended his hand, which Donis accepted and smiled as he felt the chasm between him and Titus close a fraction.

They all gathered to stand around the map display as Donis assigned each group a building.

Hulius was to take the building on the right, Titus the left and the centre for himself.

"Donis, that centre one appears to have the largest section underwater; would it not be better if my men and I went down there since I am the fastest swimmer present?" Titus threw in.

"True, but there's a very tight culvert that leads into the main area that only Brackis could have any hope of fitting into," answered Donis.

"Oh, OK Captain, good luck everyone." After saying that, Titus and his men moved off to their appointed building. Donis nodded at Hulius who moved off and made his way to his own building. All three groups moved to a sealed manhole maintenance area about fifty meters ahead of each of the three buildings. Daedelis lifted the heavy lid up and off the hole. As they looked down into it, they could see that slow flowing water ran beneath them. Pellos lowered himself down head first as Daedelis gripped his ankles and then pulled him back up.

"OK, there's a platform above the water, you just have to drop straight down onto it," Pellos announced.

They all jumped down with Donis in the lead and Harkon — who insisted he come along — at the rear.

They walked along the metal two metres above the slow current of water, which was so clear they could see right down to the bottom. Above the water they were surrounded by lichen covered brickwork. It was a dark and dank place with a silence that felt as if it held a secret danger.

The tunnel split into a 'Y' as they walked further along. Donis chose to go down the right tunnel. They continued down the walkway until it terminated into a brick wall.

"Dead end?" asked Harkon from behind.

"Not exactly," Donis replied, pointing at a large hatch on the wall below the water's surface.

He motioned for Harkon to stay as the rest of them began to descend down a ladder on the side of the walkway. When underwater, they swam to the hatch, Daedelis turned the fly wheel at the hatch's centre and then nodded to Donis who then proceeded to edge it open slightly. His eyes widened at what he saw...

It must have been at least twenty feet long, sleek and grey. It was a massive great white shark gliding effortlessly through the water. Although he only looked for moments before he closed the hatch, it was all the time he needed. He sighed as he recalled seeing the controlling device on the beast.

"What is it?" Rictus asked.

"I think we just found Jaws' big brother!" Donis replied, keeping his voice down as he continued. "Great white, a big bastard too. It's got a neural system control unit on it, next to some small bite marks. Probably from whatever they used to attach it. We better move; if it picks up our scents, we're finished. This hatch certainly won't hold it. Pel, you and Brac stay here to keep an eye out and warn us if we have an extra guest for dinner. The rest of us will go to the other tunnel."

As they swam away, leaving Pellos and Brackis to hop out of the water and back onto the platform, Donis shook his head and snorted, "It's amazing; here we are, the greatest advances in evolution in the history of mankind. And we're still second best to a creature that has been around for millions of years and has never evolved..."

Further pondering on that thought was left behind as they approached a similar hatch to the one in the previous tunnel. He nodded to Rictus who moved forward to open the hatch slightly. As he looked in, he saw several figures swimming through the water. Their movements contained an alien gracefulness as they glided around the room they were in. As graceful as their movements were, they also conveyed a level of menace. This was heightened by their clawed, webbed feet and taloned fingers, the centermost of which blended into bone-like scythes that were about a foot long. Rictus closed the hatch and put his back to it as he whispered, "There is a group of reapers in there."

"Dammit, how many?" Donis asked.

"Looked to be about eight of them," Rictus answered.

"Alright, we'll go back and discuss our options with the others. Did the reapers see you?"

Right at that moment as if in answer to his question, two scythes punched through the hatch on either side of Rictus' head.

"I think that's a yes!" Rictus said as he pushed off and away from the hatch. They all drew their bolt launchers as Rictus joined them about ten meters from the hatch. There was a hideous screeching sound as the creature on the other side of the hatch struggled to extract its blades. Rictus whipped up his Whaler — a gauntlet-mounted harpoon gun — and fired at the hatch. A harpoon the length of his forearm shot through the water trailed by thousands of bubbles. It punched through the hatch, leaving only a few inches sticking out on their side. There was a thrashing sound on the other side and as they listened closer, a loud screeching that died down with the thrashing after a few moments. Then they heard other screeches... angry-sounding screeches as the hatch began to open up to reveal the dead reaper pinned to the door and then they came...

The reapers looked like a distant relative of human beings. Their look spoke of an evolution opposite to that of humans; that while man became a land animal, they stayed in the water. Humanoid in shape, they had developed a scale-like body armour as their skin to protect them from their harsh environment. Their faces, however, bore no resemblance to anything remotely human aside from a sci-fi film. Their faces looked like a combination of mask and skin. They had large, opaque, round eyes, no nose and a maw with large teeth designed to tear apart flesh and scales.

Donis fired a bolt at the first to approach. It swerved with an easy grace and then shot forward with a burst of speed and lunged at Donis. He raised his bolt launcher and blocked the creature's claws away. Up close, face-to-face, the reaper didn't see Donis pull out his combat knife and gut it. As it tried to hold its stomach together, Donis' knife sliced through its throat and the creature soon ceased struggling.

Donis took in the scene around him in the blood-tinged water. He saw another reaper shoot backwards as it was hit by one of Rictus' harpoons. It twitched for a while then stayed still and just hung suspended in the water slowly rising to the surface. Daedelis wrestled with another; neither was able to best the other. The reaper grappling with Daedelis was larger than the rest. The fact that it was able to stay on equal terms with powerful Daedelis spoke of its great strength. It was obviously the leader of this group. The other five reapers swam around, evading bolts and occasionally dashing in only to have their blows blocked by Templar bolt launchers. Another fell as it swung in on Daedelis' back while he was preoccupied with the leader. A warning screech from its leader halted it. It then, despite the warning, continued on with its charge to be nailed in the head by a precise shot from Donis.

Donis heard his communicator click and then heard Pellos' voice.

"Ahh, Captain, Jaws here is going crazy, he's banging the shit out this hatch. Is there any blood in the water where you are?"

Donis looked around at the red-tinged scene before him. He dodged as a reaper came in and then fired a shot, which missed, as he replied, "Ummm, a bit."

"Alright, well get out of the water! I don't think the hatch will hol...Whoa shit!"

Donis heard what sounded like bolt launchers firing as Pellos came back online saying, "Don, get out, get out now! He's coming! Brac shot the neural system control on it, so no one is gonna be safe. We're on our way!"

Donis peered down the tunnel from which they came. He spotted a large shadow come around the corner about fifty metres from their ensuing conflict. His view was blocked as a reaper swooped in with its scythes aimed to come in on either side of his neck. Donis dropped his bolt launcher in order to grab the Reaper's arms. Unlike its leader, it wasn't overly strong and Donis overpowered it, keeping the scythes at a distance. But his opponent was a canny fighter and jabbed its knee into Donis' groin. Donis grunted in pain but still held the scythes at bay. As they struggled, they sank lower and lower, until their feet were touching the ground. Donis noticed the small transmitter on the reaper's body. He postulated that this would send out a signal that would activate the neural system control unit. When activated, it would send a pulse through the wearer of the neural system control unit — the shark — if they came within a few metres of a transmitter. A pulse that would cause extreme pain to the shark's nervous system.

Donis now saw that the shark was only ten meters away and coming in fast. As it came in low, he pushed off the ground and launched himself upwards. The reaper, on the other hand, stayed completely still, confident that its transmitter would protect it.

It was wrong as the shark didn't stop, didn't swerve or swim away. The shark ploughed right into the unfortunate reaper. Two rows of razor-sharp, saw-like teeth came crashing down, parting sinew, muscle and bone with ease. The shark bit right through its mid-section and continued on leaving what was left to float away leaking copious amounts of blood into the water. A second reaper fell victim to this behemoth as it dived through the water to get at Donis. Donis had reached the walkway's ladder and climbed onto it. His feet cleared the water just as the shark swept in beneath him just missing his ankles.

The shark circled for a moment and then charged back in. Its targets were Daedelis and the reaper leader, both of which remained locked in their struggle and had not immediately noticed the greater danger. They both sensed its approach before they saw it. It was only a few metres away and had its enormous mouth gaping open wide. Daedelis had maybe a second to act...

It was the reaper leader, however, who reacted first. He let go of Daedelis' hands, raised his knees to his chest, planted his feet on Daedelis' chest and kicked out. The blow pushed Daedelis back just out of the way as the shark brushed past him aiming for the reaper leader. The reaper kicked with his powerful legs and webbed feet and shot through the water to avoid the shark. He then continued to outmanoeuvre the large predator as it twisted around in order to get its allusive prey. The reaper leader then charged in over the top of the shark, shearing off the tip of its dorsal fin. The last two remaining reapers joined their leader in harrying the shark. The conflict with Templars was all but forgotten now. Unengaged now, Daedelis and Rictus took advantage of the situation and joined Donis and Harkon on the walkway. Like wolves attacking a stag, the shark would face one reaper and be attacked by the other two. Soon the creature was a mass of cuts and gashes, but it was not to be undone so easily. Donis watched on as he was joined by Brackis and Pellos. They all witnessed one of the reapers now being cornered by the shark. Ignoring the pain inflicted by the other two reapers, the shark charged in. The trapped reaper tried to dodge as the shark came in. It had almost succeeded in its escape attempt but the shark had managed to clamp down on one of its trailing legs.

The reaper screeched in pain, which was then cut short by a louder more enraged screech from the reaper leader. In a most daring attempt, bordering on suicide, he swam in over the shark's head, dragging its right hand scythe, which cut deeply as it went along. There was an almighty roar as the bladed bone cut across its right eye. As its maw gaped open, the third reaper swung in and grabbed its newly freed companion. The shark turned its head in order to get at the leader who swam across its face. He evaded the attempt and looped in under the beast, dragging both scythes across the underside of the shark, which cut in deeply. The leader swam down the tunnel with the shark in hot pursuit. This gave its companions the chance to escape onto the walkway. As they reached the walkway, the uninjured reaper began tending to its companion's wound.

Daedelis turned to Rictus, "Ric, give me your Whaler!" Rictus pressed a button on the side of the gun and detached it from his gauntlet. Without another word, Daedelis attached the gun to his own gauntlet and then jumped feet first into the water. The Whaler was heavy enough to keep him on the stone bottom of the tunnel. He then saw the reaper leader swing around the corner. Exhausted from the fight and its wounds, the shark appeared around the corner a few seconds later. As they approached, Daedelis noticed that although the shark was moving slower, it put in a last desperate burst as it caught sight of its elusive prey.

It was just behind the reaper with its mouth gaping wide open in anticipation of catching its target. Daedelis took aim as the reaper leader came within the ten-metre range, the shark by then was dead on its heels. At ten metres, Daedelis signaled the reaper by tilting his head to the left. The shark's open maw enveloped its legs. Before it could close its mouth, the reaper leader cut sharply to its right, just as Daedelis fired. The foot-and-half-long harpoon shot through the water at an incredible speed. Before the beast could turn to match the reaper's move, the harpoon passed into its still open mouth. It then punched into the roof of its mouth and skewered its brain. Though dead, its momentum carried it forward, where it plunged lower into the water until it crashed into the ground. After losing its momentum, it simply floated to the surface where it was still and leaking blood from its many wounds, then began to be slowly carried away on the slight current of the water.

Daedelis climbed up the ladder and was hauled up onto the platform. He looked up at the rest of his squad and smiled as Rictus gave him a thumbs up.

"Nice shot, Dae! Though I'd be surprised if you missed...I mean, it wasn't like you were under any pressure!" Rictus chuckled at his own joke as Daedelis smiled.

It was then they noticed Donis was not among them. They then saw him communicating with the reaper's leader. The leader moved his hands in a form of sign language. Donis was signing as well, though they were communicating far too fast for them to understand anything they were signing.

After a few moments, Donis nodded his head and held out his hand. The reaper extended his own and they gripped one another's wrists in an old warrior fashion. The reaper leader turned to his remaining warriors and helped his companion carry away the wounded reaper.
CHAPTER 12

# The Gathering  
Part 2

Donis rejoined the group to a confused and upset Harkon, "Captain, why did you let them live? They are the enemy!"

They had never heard Father Harkon so daring. Nor had they heard anyone speak to their Captain like that, who was not over the rank of Captain. They looked on with amused looks, wondering how Donis would react.

Donis sighed, "Padre...You are quite correct...They were the enemy...Until they surrendered to us!"

"When did they..." Harkon started.

"Just now, I was discussing their terms with their leader, Wraeth. Or do you think I've done wrong and should've slaughtered an outnumbered and surrendered enemy?"

Harkon was shocked, he never meant...and yet he did think they should've killed them, but couldn't think of why.

"Padre, they're mercenaries. They fight as long as the reward is worth the price. He's lost well over half his men. He stopped fighting us long ago and was just trying to survive. Even still, he showed honour when he saved Daedelis!"

"But..." Harkon began.

"No buts, Padre!" Donis interrupted him again. "Only fanatics fight to the bitter end, and besides his saving of Daedelis who already acquitted his debt by saving Wraeth in turn..." Harkon blushed as this was what he had been about to say.

"... It looks like they may have saved at least one more life. It appears the culvert I was going to send Brackis into is home to a school of Piranhas. Opening it would've released them upon us. They would've stripped Brac to the bone before he could even think of getting out."

"So what's the plan, Captain?" asked Brackis, who was still a bit shocked about the chance that he almost ended up as fish food.

"We test the culvert and if Wraeth was telling the truth then we go to plan B!"

"Absolute?" Rictus asked with a mischievous grin, which Donis returned with one of his own. He then walked down the walkway in the direction of the other tunnel.

"I don't recall, umm, what's plan B? What did you mean by absolute?" asked Harkon as they followed Donis.

"What our plan Bs usually are...Absolute bullshit!" They all laughed quiet little chuckles.

They arrived at the entrance to the room the shark had been originally guarding; the hatch had been torn off its hinges. When they entered, they saw the culvert at the other end of the room closed off with a grate.

"Life signs?" Donis asked as Pellos consulted a small display unit.

"About two hundred, boss, but it could be anything."

"Brac!" Donis called out.

Brackis came forward with a strip of shark meat in his hand — looking none too happy about his appointed task — which he poked through the grate. He turned on the small torch light attached to his bolt launcher. It illuminated the piece of meat as it hung limply in the water. A small cloud of blood emanated from it. At first he could see nothing then a sudden darting flash of silver. But all he could see was a small chunk missing from the bait. There was an explosion of movement; his view of the bait was flooded by a mass of silver bodies eager to get at the flesh, then as quick as they came, they disappeared and none of the bait was left.

Brackis looked at Donis and nodded his head. "Alright, plan B it is!" announced Donis. "Pel, you take Ric, Brac and Dae back to the other tunnel and wait for my signal. Padre, you're with me!"

The others moved off down the other tunnel while he and Harkon swam to the entrance in the shark room. They jumped up onto a cement platform in front of the door. Donis stepped forward and studied the door. It was an old-fashioned-styled door; wooden and stained with a brass door knob. He tested it...it was locked... He put his ear to the door. He couldn't hear anything even though his hearing was superior to that of a normal human.

"Captain...Ahh, can I ask you something?" Harkon asked.

"Sure," answered Donis softly.

"How did you know Wraeth was telling the truth?"

Donis turned to look at him as he answered. "Although alien, reapers follow an understandable code of honour. As you know the main vocation amongst them is piracy. They raid harbour cities, they attack and plunder merchant vessels that cross the sea and commit other heinous acts. Yet they maintain an iron strong code, 'Though our blades are stained with the blood of innocence... Though we take what is rightfully others...Our hearts shall always remain truthful and never express fallacy.' The short of it, Padre, they're killers and thieves but honest ones!" Donis finished with a grin.

Harkon thought on this for a moment and said, "And you made Wraeth swear on this code?" Donis nodded, "Correct, Padre."

"Captain, please forgive my outburst earlier, I am...I admit still unfamiliar with knowledge of alien races and warfare but I am always willing to accept more knowledge."

"And that, Padre, is why I'm not worried about you. You will learn and become a great asset. Alright, enough talk, Padre, we've got to go."

With that said, he took out a small cylindrical object. It was metallic, artistically ornate, covered with scroll work and the same size as an adult's index finger. He held it just off the key hole in the door knob. He pushed a button and blue line of light shot out and moved up and down the key hole as if scanning it. As Donis pressed another button, Harkon noticed a sliver of metal protrude from the device and enter the key hole. There was a whirring sound as the lock picker rotated the protruding metal in the lock until there was a click and the door opened as Donis tested it again.

He opened the door slightly and poked his head through and found himself looking down a red brick corridor. Unlike other parts of this subterranean lair, the area before him was clean and had the look of constant maintenance. The corridor ahead broke into seven entrances, three on the left and three on the right, which led to — if he had read the map correctly — small five metres by five metres rooms. The last entrance was the corridor continuing onto the left right at its end about fifty meters ahead. With the door now open, Donis heard voices coming out from the centre room on the right.

"... an honour Nathaniel, to not only take part in the lord's summoning ritual but to complete it as well. Truly, you are favoured amongst your peers."

"Thank you, father!" said an obviously proud voice. "How will the ritual work, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"You may indeed. The others that were chosen, nineteen of your brethren, have despoiled her as ordered. After you have performed the deed yourself, she will be sacrificed! The combination of the sacrifice and the release of her despairing soul will call across the distance to her Templar mate and he will come. So driven by it will he be, he will come alone, and when he does we shall be ready for him and will capture him as our lord wishes."

Donis felt as if an icy claw had gripped his heart, Despoiled her? Performed the deed? They didn't...God no..., he thought to himself as he grappled with what had just been said. "I'm sorry, Mara," he whispered. But there was a glimmer of hope...she was still alive. He motioned Harkon to stay as he slipped on through the doorway and into the first room on his right. He stood still in the small room as he heard two sets of footsteps on the concrete floor. The two men had exited the room they were in and started to walk down the corridor one after the other.

Before the men had walked more than a few steps, he struck, he became a blur and before the man called Nathaniel knew he was being attacked, he was dead. Donis had darted in and as he seized Nathaniel's forehead from behind, he smashed his elbow into the base of his skull, breaking his neck. The other man turned as he heard Nathaniel's body hit the ground, not realising that the small gust of wind he felt signaled his death. Before he had even realised, Donis had shadowed past him and slit his throat with his combat knife all in one motion. The soon-to-be dead man turned to look at him. He gurgled as he tried to say, "You!"

He then fell face first to the ground, twitched once and then lay still in a pool of his own blood.

Donis called Harkon in as he dragged the bodies off to the left-hand third room, which turned out to be an armoury. As he looked at the two men, he took in their regalia. The man Nathaniel was wearing a normal, undecorated, brown cowled robe. The other man's robes were covered in insignias and symbols; a dark priest of sort. He grinned as an idea came to him when Harkon entered the room. "Oh, Padre?"

"You want me to do what?" asked Harkon a few minutes later with an incredulous tone. "Take his place in the ritual!" Donis answered whilst pointing at the corpse of the dark priest.

"I'll impersonate the disciple. All you have to do is get me close to Mara. From then on, all you have to do is keep her out of harm's way. Now your knowledge on heretic cults and their rituals is extensive, true?"

"True," agreed Harkon.

"Have you heard of this ritual?" Donis asked with every part of his being, hoping he had. "Yes I have..." he sighed, "If I'm to lead you in, then that means he — pointing at the dead man — was a dark priest. Who leads the chosen one to the alter where a second priest waits to officiate," he said with a disgusted tone of voice.

"Alright then, let's do it, Padre!" Donis said as he handed Harkon the robes whilst pretending to be jovial on the outside and yet on the inside he had a mixed feeling of dread and fury.

Harkon grimaced as the bandolier strap twisted and chaffed the skin of his chest, all the while he walked in front of Donis. Both had their cowls to hide their faces; the bandolier had been Donis' idea. They had noticed that the robes did not quite hug his body as it had its former owners. Before he knew it, Donis had said, "Ah ha!" and strapped on the bandolier with a bunch of hand grenades. Donis, who was slightly larger than the heretic he was impersonating, chose to carry nothing he already did not and left his bolt launcher behind.

As they walked, Harkon whispered to Donis just behind him, "Lucky you brought me along to be your walk-about arsenal."

As Harkon picked up a sacred candle burning with an eerie green light, Donis whispered back, "Luck had nothing to do with it! Wraeth told me this cult was led by dark priests, so I figured you were the best choice of companion."

"Oh well...thanks!" replied Harkon who was both exalted that Donis was relying on him and terrified at what might lie ahead.

"Padre...uhhh..." Donis began.

"Don't ask me, Donis...Please!" pleaded Harkon, knowing Donis had been about to ask about Mara. Even as he thought about it, he began to shake as they turned the corner, leaving the six rooms behind. They approached another door, ornately decorated with symbols and Latin wording. Even though their cowls covered their faces, Harkon knew their guise wouldn't work. His shaking became a full-on tremble until he felt Donis' hand on his shoulder.

"Luis...you can do this!" Donis said as he gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze before adding, "Just don't fuck up."

Harkon would've laughed if he weren't so terrified, but the trembling stopped. Donis' faith in him and usage of his given name for the first time gave him strength. He was resolute, he was determined, he wouldn't fail Mara. He opened the door and when he walked inside and saw what was ahead, he froze and despite himself said two words, "Oh shit!"

The cultists had obviously reworked the area as the room they entered — according to the map — was supposed to be able to fit around thirty people comfortably. They stepped into a recently built room: twenty metres wide and five times that in length. A little over one hundred cultists occupied the room. They were all on their knees in front of a row of seats. All in the room faced toward the altar at the front where another dark priest stood watching the amassed cultists pray.

On the altar lay Mara with her arms tethered to it...She wore only a light brown shift, which was ripped in some places and had splotches of blood stains in others. From the bruises on her arms and legs, it was obvious she had fought all the way through her ordeal.

Harkon snapped out of it and continued to walk toward the altar, waving the candle in the manner he had read it was done. He had hoped no one had noticed his pause. Fortunately, none had. The cultists were too busy praying and the dark priest's back was still turned to them as he cleaned a ceremonial knife.

They arrived at the altar and the dark priest turned toward them, "Approach, chosen one!" Donis walked over to him. As he stopped, the priest handed him the ceremonial knife.

"Take this blessed item and in the Lord Karvouris' name perform your sacred duty," the priest said as Donis turned to the altar and leaned over Mara. He looked at her face and saw it was bruised along the jaw line, left cheek and right temple. Her lip was cut and her left eye was dark and slightly swollen.

She did not look at him but he heard her whimper, "Please...no...more.

It tore his heart in half to hear her broken like that. He whispered to her, "Don't worry, baby...They won't touch you ever again!" Her eyes snapped open and she looked into his eyes and tears fell from hers. Donis was here...he would save her...but no, he can't be here...he can't see her like this...

She began to sob; Donis shook as he gripped the knife he held tightly and reached into his robes to pull out his combat knife just as a hand seized his shoulder.

"What are you waiting for? Do it!" said the dark priest, shaking his shoulder as if trying to awaken him from some deep slumber. Then Donis quickly rounded on him. The priest had less than a second to register the look in Donis' eyes, but that second was all he needed to know he was going to die. Donis' fist sailed through the air and smashed into the priest's forehead with devastating force. Such was the power of the blow — fuelled by Donis' rage — that it lifted the man clear off his feet, who flew over the seven steps in front of the altar to land at the feet of the still praying cultists. Staring vacantly at the ceiling, the man was very dead indeed as his skull had been crushed by the terrible blow.

He quickly slashed Mara's bonds and turned to face the cultists. Some had noticed what had happened but the majority continued to kneel there praying, oblivious to the situation. Donis picked Mara up and laid her down behind the altar. He stood up straight, walked to the top of the stairs in front of the altar and flicked off his cowl to reveal his face. Brandishing a knife in each hand, he yelled at the cultists, "You want me so bad? You got me!" He unleashed a terrifying roar.

Over one hundred pairs of eyes snapped open to look at him as his roar reverberated throughout the hall. All of the cultists now stood watching him, but Donis merely glared back at them as if daring them to come to him. But he didn't wait. He took two quick steps and with a bounding leap, cleared the staircase and landed right in the front row of the amassed cultists. His charge had bowled several men from their feet. He struck left and right as blood sprayed from open arteries or flowed out of punctured organs. For every blow that had been struck, another man fell, never to rise again. In the ten seconds since the fight started, as many men had died.

The roar and Donis' yelling had snapped Mara out of her sobbing fit. She had never felt so tired, so hurt, so...dirty. She peeked over the altar to look at Donis. He was a whirlwind of mayhem and destruction, leaving broken and bleeding bodies in his wake.

Even as she watched, five men died in a matter of seconds. The first Donis swept from his feet. No sooner had the cultist's back hit the ground, that a knife was plunged into his chest. As the bloody knife was extracted, three cultists approached with automatic rifles raised at Donis. He hurled the combat knife right into the throat of the centre cultist. Before the other two could move, Donis dashed forward with blurring speed. As his form became solid again, he ripped out the combat knife from the dying man's throat. He spun around so that the dying man fell forward onto his back. At the same time, he thrust his hands backwards, ramming both of his knives into the chests of the cultists on either side of him. He abandoned his knives as the body draped over his back shuddered as bullets ripped into it. Donis then drew out his two Templar pistols from their thigh holsters, which were concealed underneath his robes. He spun, discarding the corpse and sent the firing cultist straight to hell with a precise shot through his forehead.

As he looked around, Donis saw that many of the cultists had grouped together. They were unarmed — apparently only a few guards had guns during the ritual — but had a very determined look about them. It was a standoff where the cultists outnumbered him eighty to one and could eventually drag him down. But they had no firearms and none were too keen to be the first to die at the hands of his Templar pistols.

It was only a matter of time before they gathered their courage and charged. Donis wasn't about to give them the chance; it was time for a little confusion as he took aim and fired. The lights went out as the power box was blasted to pieces then shouts of confusion and fear started echoing around the room. Auxiliary power then started kicking in, which created a strobe light effect. Donis estimated he had about ten seconds before the auxiliary power lit the area fully once more. He could see enough in the flashes of light to locate his prey. He fired several fast volleys at the groups. His hands punching out with each shot were hazes of movement as he fired twenty shots in a few seconds, all hitting their marks. Obviously, some of the cultists had picked up some of the fallen fire arms as there was sporadic firing from the other side of the room. The screams of other cultists told Donis that it was panic fire. They were blind, shooting wildly and hitting their own comrades.

Donis knew he only had a few seconds and darted back to the altar; snatching up a rifle as he went. As he did so, something occurred to him. Where were his men?

Mara jumped! One minute she was all alone in the dark, and the next thing she knew the lights came back on and Donis was next to her kneeling behind the altar. He was looking at her with an unreadable expression. He reached out and placed his hand on her face to caress it. The warmth in his hand comforted her. It was then she saw a tear run down his face. She leaned forward and hugged him. She pulled back when he laid something beside her. She looked down and saw the rifle and they both smiled...they both knew what he wanted her to do...they both knew what she needed...to kill.

Donis jumped out from behind the altar, bounded down the steps and opened fire with his Templar pistols blazing. The cultists, thinking Donis had fled, were taken by surprise as several of their numbers fell. They quickly got over their surprise and charged in as two great masses.

Just before Donis had headed off, he had called Harkon over who had been hiding behind a nearby pillar. Harkon ran low and slid to his knees behind the altar.

"Padre, help Mara."

Without another word, he was off.

"Help me?" Mara asked Harkon with clear confusion.

"I'm your personal armoury!" he replied with a grin as he opened his robe enough to reveal the bandolier strapped to his chest.

The cultists had split into two groups numbering thirty or so cultists in each. The first ran in at his front, the other on his right. The group on his right came to a halt as two fragmentation grenades were thrown into their midst. They didn't have to contemplate for too long as the first explosion ripped into their ranks and was followed by a second. Two waves of razor-sharp fragments scythed through their bodies and flesh was torn away. Men screamed in agony before they died as throats, groins and other arterial veins were punctured. So fierce were the blasts and the ensuing waves of flying metal, a full twenty men fell to the ground. Some were burned-out husks, others little more than torn-up pieces of meat.

The surviving cultists decided to go after this new threat. One of them fired on the altar as they approached it. Chips of stone were blasted off the altar but Mara ducked down again. She then stood back up with the automatic rifle in her hands. She pulled the trigger and didn't let go; ninety rounds were expended in seconds as she sprayed the area in front of her. All of the approaching cultists were hit, although one fortunate man was only hit in the shoulder. He continued on, pulling out a knife as he went up the steps to the altar. He then dove head first over the altar with the knife bared for Mara's throat. Mara grabbed the front of her rifle, which was still hot as it burnt her hands to hold it whilst she swung it like a baseball bat. Whack! The butt of the rifle smacked firmly into the diving cultist's head, spilling him over to her left where he lay still.

Donis faced off against the remaining cultists as they surrounded him; his two smoking Templar pistols held at his sides were now completely expended.

"Now these odds I like!" he shouted at the twenty or so cultists. He then rushed in at them. The first cultist went down quickly as one Templar pistol smashed into his stomach followed by the second that broke his jaw. Scores of others were felled by single crushing blows of the heavy pistols.

He dropped the pistols as he caught one cultist in midair — who had tried to jump him from behind — with one hand while he fended off the feeble attacks of another. As the held cultist choked, Donis blocked another blow and then sent a return thundering into the attacker's diaphragm. As the cultist bent over winded, Donis' knee came up and smashed into his lowered head. The man then fell back as Donis heard the sound of his nose breaking. He grabbed the cultist he already held by the groin with his free hand, hoisted him up and threw him headlong into three approaching cultists.

Harkon watched as Donis dashed around the group once again as they tried to corner him. Only ten men now stood against him. Harkon grabbed Mara's shoulder to get her attention. Transfixed as she was on Donis' fight, she only took notice as he began shaking her.

"What, Father?" she asked without turning around. "We have to go!" he said, trying to pull her away. "What? Why? We can't leave Donis..." she began.

"He was the one who said for us to!" Harkon said, cutting her short.

"He what..." she thought about it for a second. He's trying to isolate himself as this trap was for him. He didn't want them to suffer anymore consequences than they already had. Also, I'm a distraction for him right now; I can't let him get hurt or captured because of me.

She turned to Harkon and said, "OK, Father, let's go."

Donis flashed a glance in Mara's direction who he saw nod to him and mouth three words. He smiled at her as he saw Harkon pull out a small device, put his hand on Mara's shoulder and push a button on the device. A bright flash enveloped them and they were gone. The smile vanished as he turned back to his foes with a bloodthirsty snarl and bared his fangs.

He charged at them with a burst of speed so fast that the cultists lost sight of him. The first man died as a quick blow crushed his throat. Even as he sank to his knees choking, a second man fell. The first blow smashed into his pelvis. Even as his body bowed, Donis' open hand wiped across his face, forcing it to twist and snap his neck.

The third came in with a tackle. Donis slipped around it and punched down to smash the man's spine as he passed by, which sent him crashing to the ground. Donis sped off again and a fourth man fell, then a fifth, a sixth and a seventh dead just before they saw him. Now only three cultists stood expressing no fear whatsoever as if they hadn't just witnessed their comrades being torn apart. Damn fanatics! Donis thought to himself.

The first came at him throwing a wild hook at his head. Donis ducked and came up with an uppercut hook combination that sent quite a few of the man's teeth flying before Donis swept his legs out from under him. The second came leaping in trying to flank him. He caught the man with a side kick in midair. The cultist was propelled backwards to slam into the wall behind him where he crumpled to the ground.

The third and final cultist stood before him. He made no move to attack him as he said, "I enjoyed taking your woman...I was the first of the chosen...oh how she screamed as her blood flowed upon the altar whilst under Groot's tender administrations." The cultist Groot threw his head back and laughed.

## Oops, my mistake

Mara blinked the tears out of her eyes as the bright light faded and she could now see her surroundings. They were back in Humanity's Haven in what she recognised as Harkon's office. Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, she sank down into a chair. Her head was in her hands; Harkon thought it best to leave her alone. As he reached the door, he heard her gasp. She looked up at him and said, "How could I forget?"

"What is it, Mara?" Harkon asked as he moved back to her.

"I forgot to tell him about Groot! He's the giant that caught me..."

## Groot

The man in front of Donis was not overly tall, only about five foot and eight inches. Lanky and with stringy black hair, there was a look in his eyes that spoke of his sanity that had departed long ago. Must be why he's so confident, Donis thought to himself.

Donis' eyes were drawn to an object dangling from his throat. It was a long shard of a green gem stone. Donis' eyes widened as he recognised the shard for what it was. It was an Essence Keeper; an archaic device capable of containing a demonic essence. Similar to how his sword works, this shard could be used to trap a demon within it. But unlike his sword, it had an unholy ability that made it an evil artefact. The owner of the shard could for a while borrow the powers of the trapped demons. It could transfer the demon's strength, agility and speed...Even its hellspawned powers of regeneration.

Donis ran in as the man known as Groot grasped the shard and it glowed with a sickly yellowish-green colour, which began to engulf Groot himself. Donis lashed out but incredibly Groot caught his fist with his free hand. He twisted Donis' captured hand and kicked him away with an ease no human ever had. Even as he stumbled back, he saw a change come over Groot as his muscles swelled and he grew taller. He began to hunch but still stood over seven feet tall and his arms were the same size as some big men's thighs. His hands were equal to dinner plates; his eyes now burned with the yellow-green fire of the shard. Some dark rune had burned itself into his forehead where it glowed with eternal fire. Donis recognised the insignia and the demon it belonged to, "Abraxis...bet he's not too happy about this," Donis muttered.

The monster chuckled, "Not that it matters, he's my slave!"

Groot came in, he moved with a speed Donis would not have believed possible of someone so large. Before he could react, a big ham-sized fist smashed into his face. As he fell back, pain ripped into his face as the blow broke his nose.

Donis jumped in, ducking under a wild swing and then threw two punches, which would've decimated a normal man's ribs. Groot didn't even flinch. He grabbed Donis by the shoulders and sent him to the ground with a vicious head butt. Before he could even think of standing up, two large hands grabbed him. He was lifted up and thrown, after which he sailed through the air to smack concussively into a wall. Just as he stood back up, now more than a little shaky, Groot was upon him again with his large hand grabbing Donis' throat and lifting him clear off the ground. The tips of thick fingers dug into his flesh, closing off his breathing passage.

Donis knew he only had a few moments before he faded and then blacked out. Donis had to do something and quick. He grabbed the wrist of the hand that was holding him up with both of his hands. Using his grip as leverage, Donis lifted his entire body up, draping his left leg over Groot's forearm. Realising what Donis was about to do, Groot released his throat and tried to bring his other arm into play, but it was too late. Donis reefed himself backwards, pulling Groot's arm down, while he kicked up with his free right leg and striking the triceps area above the elbow. This double impact applied enormous pressure on the elbow until, crack! Groot's arm bent forty-five degrees the wrong way. Donis plonked onto his feet as Groot released him. He didn't have much time to celebrate as the fist of Groot's uninjured arm came in aimed directly for his face. Groot screamed when his fist smashed into the wall, chipping off some of the brick work as Donis ducked and slipped under the blow. Groot unleashed another howl of agony as Donis came up beside him, leapt into the air and brought his foot down on the side of his knee. With an audible 'snap!' the limb gave way.

Groot was confused; why did his injuries cause him so much pain as they never had before? Why weren't the demonic energies healing him? Why hadn't the bones fused together? He sensed Donis behind him and turned, he then stumbled back against the wall behind him as his shattered leg was unable to support him. He held up his uninjured arm. It was then he noticed the hand on it was a normal human one, but how?...He focused on Donis, who stood there with a feral grin on his face with the green glowing shard in his hand.

"Give my regards to Abraxis!" He leapt forward and rammed the shard into Groot's chest. There was a low moan as Groot's soul was sucked into the evil device and he collapsed like a limp chicken. As the glow in the shard died down, Donis could have sworn he heard a hissing serpent-like voice say, "You're mine!" which was followed by an agony-filled scream.

Donis collected his pistols, his knife and opened the door from which his men were supposed to have emerged from. He closed the door behind him and locked it.

Donis asked into his comm, "Pellos, report..." There was no answer.

He swapped over to Hulius' squad comms, "Hulius, report! Any contact with hostiles?" There was a small bit of static before he heard Sergeant Hulius respond, "Negative, Sir!"

"Alright, get over here, we need a purge kit. I got about one hundred heretics here that need burning, about only half are dead. The others are unconscious so getting here quickly would be a good idea! We also need to conduct a search for four Templars that are so far M.I.A."

"Yes sir, on our way!" Hulius responded.

"Titus, what's your situation?" Donis asked as he switched channels. A wash of static was the only answer.

He finally looked at his surroundings, noticing immediately that they were formed similarly to the other entrance he entered earlier. Once again, six rooms spread out before him; three to each wall on his left and right. He then saw the track marks on the ground. The several long continuous tracks leading to the third room indicated more than one person had been dragged in or from there. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and he picked up the scent of Templars. He walked to the room but found it empty. The room hadn't been used in a while and had a fine layer of dust covering it. However, large disturbances in the dust on the floor showed where the dragged bodies had fallen and then been dragged out. The result still didn't answer what he wanted to know...Where the hell were his men? If he could smell the scent of Templars, they should be near. His reflection on the situation was interrupted as he heard something. He edged to the entrance of the room as he heard what sounded like brick sliding along brick. He reloaded his pistols as he heard footsteps coming closer. He saw someone approach. His jaw dropped as they stepped under an overhead light source, illuminating features he recognised. He stepped out and confronted the man who stopped in his tracks.

"Sheridan!" Donis said as bile rose in his throat. "Now you die, traitor!" he cried as he raised his pistol to fire.

He paused when he saw Sheridan's terrified look change to a confident smile and was looking over his shoulder. It was then he heard the all-too-familiar sound of a weapon ratchet, but before he could turn, pain ripped into his back. The whole of his body screamed in agony as an electrical charge surged through his body. It wasn't enough to take him down straight away, but it did put him down on one knee. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. He sensed someone behind and spun around, though his vision faded as he aimed at the blurred figure. A sharp blow smashed into his gun arm and something wet splashed onto his face as he felt himself fall lower and lower until his vision finally faded to black.

## Could be worse

Donis was in complete darkness. Light leaked through as he opened his eyes but then returned to darkness as he closed his eyes again. The scene continued in this fashion as he slowly blinked his eyes open and shut. His eyes snapped open. He was wide awake now but his vision was still unfocussed and blurry.

He looked around and saw that he was in a white-coloured room but no other details were yet ascertainable. He started when he saw a giant silvery metal spider on his chest. He raised his hands to defend himself and it jumped at him, only to hover a few inches above his face. Strange, he thought to himself at the weird behaviour of this creature. He raised his left hand to grab the spider but he didn't see his hand come into view. Instead, the spider jumped to the right of his view.

A thought popped into his head. As he felt himself bring his left arm back, the spider returned into his view. He felt himself clench his fist and the spider curled up into a ball. His vision finally cleared and he saw what was really before him. It wasn't a metallic spider curled into a ball, but a metallic hand balled up into a fist.

He reached out with his right hand and felt the cool metal underneath the skin of his hand, tracing patterns on the prosthetic limb, feeling the tracks and divots as he slid his hand along onto a multi-jointed wrist. The smooth exterior casing of the forearm, which was attached to a rotation joint, in turn terminated into the flesh of a lower forearm. He pinched the skin and felt it on his left arm; it was his flesh, his forearm...

In a panic, he sat upright in the bed. A silent gasp of pain escaped from his lips as all manner of electrodes and IV needles pulled tight on his chest. Two pairs of hands grabbed him on both sides as Mara and Father Harkon came into his view.

"It's OK, baby, just relax, just relax and lie down. You're gonna be alright!"

He lowered himself back down onto his back and heard her sweet voice again. "That's it, just relax..."

"What happened to me?" Donis asked as he turned his head to look at the bionic prosthetic arm. He repeatedly opened and closed the hand to come to grips with it.

"We were hoping you could tell us? What do you remember?" Harkon asked.

"The fight with the cultists...that guy Groot..." Donis answered whilst wincing as he reached up and felt his reset broken nose.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that one!" Mara said guiltily

"Uhhh, I was looking for my men and stumbled upon Sheridan."

"Sheridan?" asked Grandmaster Tyrius who spoke for the first time as he stood in the doorway.

Donis looked up at him as he approached, "Yes, master, the little bastard was playing us!"

"It explains where he went after I kicked him out of my office," Tyrius replied. "What happened next?"

Donis thought for a moment, "Before I could shoot him, I got shot from behind...I vaguely remember trying to turn and shoot whoever it was..." He looked at his new 'arm' as he said, "Guess it didn't work!"

His head snapped back around to Tyrius, "What about the others?"

"They're OK, they're just outside. They got shot from behind just like you," supplied Mara. "What about Hulius' and Titus' groups ?"

Harkon answered with, "Hulius was the one that found you and lucky he did..." He continued as Donis looked at him questioningly, "It appears your attackers weren't just set on maiming you. They intended to abduct you but had only dragged you ten feet before Hulius and his men came along. Unfortunately, your attackers split before he could identify them and Titus... well..."

"Titus and his group are M.I.A. and presumed dead!" Tyrius finished for Harkon.

"Damn..."

Donis had his problems with Titus but he still felt sadness at the loss of him and his squad. He closed his eyes to contemplate and drifted back off to sleep.

Donis woke up again, this time he was alone and free of the electrodes and IV needles that had plagued his body earlier. He must've slept at least another day as the swelling and aching of his nose was gone. He sat up and swung his legs off the bed and stood up. Wearing only a pair of hospital pants, he made for the door of his room. He stepped outside and found his men waiting there for him.

"Well, well, the sleeper awakes!" Rictus joked, although the relief at seeing his Captain upright could be seen in his eyes.

"How do you feel?" Daedelis asked him.

Donis initiated the rotation sequence on the bionic arm and the whole unit rotated 360 degrees. He then picked up a glass of water, which shattered into shards after which he said, "Fine and dandy!"

He looked around, "Where's Mara?"

"Here!" came her voice from behind a couch, turned away from his view. Suddenly, her head came into view.

He walked over and sat with her. "How are you?" he asked.

She shrugged as she replied, "As best as can be expected." But her eyes couldn't hide the horrors that were still terrorizing her.

"We on call?" Donis asked no one in particular, not taking his eyes off Mara. "No we're off for tonight!" Pellos announced.

"Really?" Donis asked as he gathered Mara into his arms when she leant into him.

"Nothing's happening in our sector and nothing obviously related to Kavouris," responded Pellos.

"OK we'll take today off...but we're back into it tomorrow, setting our minds to finishing off Kavouris' plans once and for all. It's time we hatched a plan of our own rather than react to one of his," Donis said with a determined voice.

"Are we going to a new apartment?" asked Mara.

"No, we'll stay at Humanity's Haven. Although Sheridan's gone, there could be another leak and I won't put any of you into danger because of me again!" Donis said in a determined voice.

Despite his words, Donis did not join his men the next day. Although still weak from his wounds, it wasn't the reason he stayed back. The real reason was Mara. He was fearful of what she might do. Although he had psychology theorems and examples implanted into his brain, it was of no help to him. He was aware of battle-related psychology — battle fatigue, fear, etc. — but rape victims were way out of his league; he simply had no way of knowing what was going through her head. He soon discovered his lack of knowledge was a serious problem that night.

As he slept next to her in their room at Humanity's Haven, his almost supernatural ability to perceive his environment detected something wrong. Just like with the heretics that had attacked their first home, his senses were telling his mind to wake up. His eyes snapped open and he caught sight of a glint of metal as the knife shot straight down at his face. He grabbed his attacker's wrist, just stopping the blade point millimetres from his eye. He then twisted his opponent's wrist, forcing them to drop the knife. He dragged on the wrist in his hand, pulling his assailant forward as his other came back to strike. He froze as he saw a line of moonlight illuminate the would-be assassin's face and saw it was Mara. Her eyes were red-rimmed and unfocussed.

"Mara!" he called out to her. The sound of her name seemed to snap her out of it as her eyes locked onto his. He saw a look of shock come upon her face as realisation of what she tried to do hit her. She threw herself off him and buried her face into her pillow, where he heard the unmistakable sound of her sobbing. He was at a loss at what to do now, but as he lay there unsure, she shifted again and laid her head on his chest. Only when he heard her breathing regulate to indicate she was sleeping did he relax.

He thought about how she had attacked him even though he was the one who rescued her.

She had been humiliated and dominated by those men. But they were now all dead; they couldn't hurt her anymore. So why attack him...

Suddenly it hit him, her anger was not at him but at dominating males, and Donis had to face reality; he was as dominating as they came. She had to defeat the remaining male that had dominated her.

As he now realised what the problem was, he would be able to address it tomorrow. He then settled himself down to sleep once again. But to be on the safe side, he picked up the knife off his bed and hid it under the bed mattress. He then fell into a wary light sleep.

The next morning, he woke up alone. He heard a noise come from the kitchen of the small unit they were staying in. He got up and approached the adjoined kitchen slowly. Mara was at the counter cooking something. He wondered how he was going to help Mara's condition. Perhaps the opportunity would arise by itself.

He stepped up behind her as loudly as he could and placed his hands on her shoulders. He felt her muscles suddenly become tense under his hands. Perhaps the opportunity was on its way. She spun and lashed out at him. Her face was an image of rage. The kitchen knife cleaved through the air toward his throat. Donis didn't move a muscle as he placed a shocked look on his face.

The knife sliced through the air and continued on past his throat, its blade now stained with blood. Mara looked at Donis incredulously, not believing what had just happened. Donis raised his hand to the small knick on the front of his throat. He had guessed right...Mara's intention was to defeat him, not kill him.

Now as he looked into her face, he saw the woman he had always known back in command, instead of the shell she had become. He heard the knife clatter to the floor and felt her arms around him.

"You back with us, my love?" he asked her in a whisper.

He heard her muffled voice as her head was buried in his chest. "I'm fine, I think..." Just at that moment, an alarm went off and the room flashed white and red.

"Perhaps I spoke too soon?" she said as she pulled back and looked at him. She saw a weird look on his face; it appeared the noise confused him. "What's wrong, baby?" she asked him.

"It's just that I haven't heard that siren in a long time, but now I know what it is!" he said.

"What is it?" she asked in fear.

"It's an alert; we're being warned that an army is on the march and approaching...We better go get ready!" he told her as they left the room in a hurry.
CHAPTER 13

# The Uprising

Donis looked into the dark expanse that was space. All was silent except for his bionic arm that would occasionally whir or click as he shifted positions. Sitting in the command seat of his attack ship, Striker One, he looked out the front vision screen and saw others of the contingent of ten attack ships flying around.

Their small force floated around a large strike cruiser, the Persephone, commanded by Grand Master Tyrius, which was soon reinforced by four human strike cruisers, which then unloaded their own batch of fighter vessels, all under the command of Admiral Jeffrey Greeves, leader of the Australian Space Service.

"Ah, Captain, Grand Master Tyrius is on the line," Pellos announced at the communication and radar system array.

"Put him through, Pel," replied Donis. On a display before him, Tyrius' grim-looking face appeared. "Donis, it appears our guests have arrived. Our long-range scanners have picked them up. The Dan-Yeeki's piratical cousins, the dan-yale, have two hundred fighters and one command ship coming right at us!"

"The dark ones! Damn this Karvouris has planned well. He has even managed to enlist those reavers."

"I guess, but whatever their cause we have to stop them!" announced Tyrius.

"Yes, master, we'll try and provide a warm welcome for them. Donis, out," he said without any great enthusiasm. The odds weren't good while their attackers numbered two hundred ships and their own force consisted of ninety ships, only ten of which were piloted by Templars.

He looked to his men in their positions; Daedelis, who was situated in front of him, piloted the ship as well as the nose-mounted cannons. Rictus and Brackis were off to either side of him in separate wing capsules manning rotatable gun batteries. Pellos was situated behind him where he could control communications and the ship's radar system. He also maintained the ship's shields, armour and other such combat systems. Secure in the knowledge that his men knew what they were doing, he looked about his own station in the centre of the ship. He could see various displays as well as weapon systems, including the weapon of his main arsenal, a large energy cannon. It could tear a small ship apart but generally fired too slowly. However, it was exceptional at critically damaging the larger, slower-moving command ships.

He turned his attention to one of the other displays. It showed a view of the soon-to-be battlefield. It showed the Templar army with fewer than two hundred senior Templars standing in their squads with their weapons bared. About thirty yards behind to the left and right there were two groups of the Initiates. There were two hundred and fifty of them armed with a variety of weapons. Behind low protective barricades it was obvious that the purpose was for them to stay as far away from combat as possible. Most of them looked about fourteen or fifteen — mere children.

Behind them was a contingent of regular human soldiers numbering close to one thousand. Their task was to offer fire support with their tanks and artillery and act as a military reserve force in case the Templars failed.

Facing them was an army of five hundred cultists following their own leaders and about fifteen hundred renegade military men. Unlike the cultists, they were trained soldiers similar to those that had ambushed his squads' apartments earlier.

He looked back to his own forces to see his protégé Flamius and his troupe at the head of the senior Templars. Flamius and his group were kneeling down on one knee with their weapons planted into the ground, leading the rest of the senior Templars in prayer. With Grand Master Tyrius and his own presence absent from the battle along with Titus' disappearance, Flamius, as one of the most superior sergeants both in experience and skill, was given command until either of his superiors resumed command.

As Donis watched his men finish their prayers, he noticed the enemy army had not moved or given any sign of the imminent attack. What were they waiting for?

Even as he thought this question, the answer came in the form of the enemy fleet accelerating toward them. He stood up without taking his eyes from the approaching mass of dark silver vessels. "Pel, patch me through to all of our ships!"

"Yes, sir," came the reply. "Done"

"Attention all ships. We have a hostile fleet intending to bombard our ground forces. I repeat, the enemy intends to bombard our ground forces. Set up a blockade. Do not let any get past us. Assault all that intend to do so."

"Acknowledged, Captain," came the replies from the other ships. As the logic of his words shone through, he heard Admiral Greeves give the same order to his own contingent. Almost as soon as he smiled at this, his smile went flat when he saw the flotilla coming closer.

"God be with us," he murmured.

While their own ships were large, blocky and cumbersome-looking, the enemy fleet, on the other hand, moved like a pack of metallic eels swimming swiftly and agile through the ocean water.

With the exception of the command ship, which resembled a giant cray fish and moved at a more sedate pace and with less manoeuvrability, the other strike ships looked like giant insects, their wings curved like pincers and their weapons were overhung and underslung like stingers.

Then there was no time for such thoughts as the battle commenced and the two forces clashed. From Donis' point of view, the scene before him had a surreal effect to it as if what he was seeing was an intricately choreographed dance between these ships as they weaved and wound their way in and out of each other's paths. The light flares from their weapons were like fireworks as the ships they hit exploded.

Donis shook his head as he was jolted back into reality when he felt several impacts on the hull.

"Hey, someone's hammering our ass, shields are almost down on our rear. Someone take him out!" shouted Pellos.

Both Brackis and Rictus swivelled in their battery stations to converge their fire on the lone ship attacking them. Having limited choices of evasion, the dan-yale pilot brought himself up above their line of fire only to be brought level with Donis's arsenal, which had been rotated around to target the pesky attacker. He fired and blasted the enemy into oblivion before he even knew what hit him.

"Eyes front!" they heard Daedelis shout.

Donis turned to be confronted by three enemy strike vessels heading straight for them as Brackis and Rictus continued to cover the flanks.

"Dae, centre!" ordered Donis.

Their combined fire completely destroyed the centre ship. Fast and agile they might be, but heavily armoured they were not. Daedelis rotated the ship ninety degrees upright, squeezing just in between the two oncoming ships and blasting through the remaining debris of the destroyed ship.

The two dan-yale pilots were so surprised by this manoeuvre they didn't see the two Templar ships trailing behind Donis' vessel, who shredded them to bits.

They came into an empty zone, no strike ships were in the vicinity but their front view screen was encompassed by the answer. The enemy command ship loomed ahead of them. A bright flash from one of the many gun emplacements gave them mere moments of warning.

"Ohhh shiiittt!" screamed Daedelis. As he yanked the controls hard to the port side, the ship banked to the left, just barely avoiding the oncoming energy blast. Unfortunately, one of the two trailing ships behind them wasn't as lucky and was blasted to pieces.

Donis' heart sank when he heard a panicked voice come over the communication system, "Breach!"

He turned to look in his rear-view screen as Daedelis avoided yet another blast from the enemy command ship. What he saw let him know they had failed. As one of the human vessels fell away, half of it sheared off. Three more human ships were shredded to pieces as ten of the enemy vessels joined for a combined assault and were well on their way past the blockade.

"Pel, patch me through!"

"Done," replied Pellos.

"Come in, ground forces, come in!"

"We read you," came Flamius' voice over the communication system.

"Flamius, you've got an incoming air raid, I repeat, an incom..." He stopped as he saw the ten ships that previously had broken through their barricade get torn asunder by a barrage of fire power from a direction none of his ships were in. He then saw a new host of ships approaching, similar to their attackers in shape and form but the enemy was dark silver in colour where this new group had a shiny golden bluish hue.

"Sir, it's the Avengers!" said Pellos in an excited voice.

"Kaelis!" Donis said in reply with a big smile.

He watched as the tide turned on the dan-yale now that they faced an opponent that could match them in both speed and numbers. The balance was tipped as the remaining human and Templar ships joined in and the mutual enemy retreated in haste.

Even the large command ship found itself in trouble as it was hounded by several Dan-Yeeki strike ships. Too fast for it to target, the large vessel tried to flee from its attackers. Donis knew at any moment it would go to warp speed and in seconds jump to another system.

"Oh no you don't!" Not willing to let it get away, he primed his main weapon. "Dae!"

"Already on it, Chief," Daedelis answered as he put them at maximum speed, aiming for the rear of the enemy vessel. When they were half a click away, Donis shouted to his wing gunmen, "I'll hit the engines, you guys hit the power supply module."

"Yes, sir!" Brackis and Rictus replied simultaneously.

A snap-hiss sound announced the detachment of their pods, which floated aimlessly until two wings and a stabilising fin unfolded. Twin bursts of blinding light appeared from the rear thrusters of each pod. As they boosted toward the command ship, Donis primed his main weapon.

"Dae, bring us about," ordered Donis. "Aye, aye, captain."

Donis smiled and shook his head as Daedelis turned the ship to starboard. Running it across the rear of their target, now only a quarter of a click away, Donis saw the command ship's engines start to glow a bright light blue. They were about to go into warp speed.

Donis fired the main energy cannon, the ship's rear shields held, but eventually they faltered then failed and the bright beam stitched a line of destruction along the rear of the command ship where the engine compartments were. The engine glow died down to nothing as they suffered critical damage. Not enough to destroy it but enough to disable the engines and leave it stranded until the damage could be repaired, which it wouldn't be, Donis thought as he saw Rictus and Brackis reach the ship.

Rictus and Brackis didn't have time for idle thoughts; such was their speed. Instinct alone is what kept them from crashing to their deaths. They entered one of the many hanger bays, but this particular one housed the ship's main power supply module. They opened fire on the grounded ships in case any took off to block their way, while they locked their targeting computers to their target.

It resembled four cylinders: two coming from the ceiling and floor and the other two from the sides. The inside ends tapered to a point but did not meet around which a yellowish field surrounded, which itself in turn was surrounded by two spheres of some unknown metal that were propelled in a circular pattern at an angle.

A shrill beep told them both their computers had locked on and they both fired. A single missile from each pod fired out, both curved in their flight paths and both impacted into their target. They were set to go off on a time delay rather than on impact.

Rictus then spoke to Brackis, "All right, Brac, we've got ten seconds. Let's burn!"

"Let's go! All units clear away from the command ship, repeat, clear away from the command ship!" Brackis communicated on all known allied frequencies.

They rocketed forward through the hanger bay, until they shot out through the exit on the other side of the bay. Half a click away, Brackis looked at his timer. It said six seconds. At five seconds, they were a full click away. At four seconds, they were two clicks away and passing by their own strike ship. Three seconds they travelled another click, and with two seconds to go, another click. With one-and-a-half seconds to go, they reached the Templar strike cruiser Persephone and the remnants of the A.S.S fleet.

Nearby also, their Dan-Yeeki saviours and their command ship had reached them. One second to go, Donis' ship Striker One joined them a full five clicks away from the striker enemy vessel.

The first explosion was mainly internally contained, but the ship's internal systems and mechanical power modules were gutted and then went critical. There was a pause then a series of explosions ripped throughout the ship. The first three explosions were small but blew out showers of small pieces of the ship's hull.

The fourth explosion was larger than all the previous explosions put together. It came from the very bowels of the ship and tore the ship in half, this time sending large pieces of debris flying in all directions. They didn't go far as the blast radius that reached up to half a click and vaporised everything within.

The shock wave sent out by the blast would have destroyed any ship within three clicks. Such was its power; even at their great distance, a vibration hummed through all the ships present in the allied fleet.

Rictus and Brackis' pods flew under the wings of Donis' ship after which small tractor beam devices guided them back into their emplacements. After they were secure, Daedelis docked their ship in one of the hanger bays on the Persephone.

A ramp lowered from underneath the ship and they exited to find a welcoming committee on deck waiting for them. Grand Master Tyrius and Commander Kaelis approached them as they disembarked their vessel.

Donis bowed and said, "Master." He then looked to Kaelis and said, "Commander."

Kaelis nodded, "Captain, as I was just telling Grand Master Tyrius, we just happened to be passing by and thought we would join you. My apologies for doing so without asking your leave," he said with a wide grin.

Donis chuckled. "No need. Your company was more than welcome." His face became one of curiosity. "However, I am curious as to why your hunting pack is at this particular location?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, it wasn't a coincidence that brought us here. We tracked the morlocks and their leader Gorax to here," Kaelis replied with an upraised eyebrow.

"Gorax?" Donis asked perplexed.

"It appears he and his band of miscreants have decided to join your little get together down below," he answered whilst nodding to a view screen over Donis' shoulder.

Donis turned to the display that showed a bird's eye view of the battlefield. At first, he noticed nothing different to what he saw before. "Computer zoom out," he commanded. The picture of the armies became smaller but more vast and the view more widespread. Then he saw them. Several large ships landing about five hundred metres from the left flank of the Templar army. They looked like they had been pieced together with parts of all different ships. Human and Dan-Yeeki. He even noticed a few Templar ship parts.

"Damn mercenaries," he muttered as they disengaged their cargo of at least two hundred and fifty morlock warriors. Like their ships, their armour and weapons were made of varied components, ill kept and crudely constructed.

"Damn! Those mercenaries would have no chance against our senior Templars but they will wreak havoc on the Initiates on the flank!" announced Donis.

Kaelis turned to Tyrius, "Grand Master, with your permission I'd like to lead my men down there to confront those murderous scums."

"Permission granted, Commander. I am sure you and your men will provide those deviants with the right kind of welcoming," Tyrius answered with an evil grin.

Kaelis nodded and with a grin that matched Tyrius', he pressed a combination of buttons on an array of gadgetry on his forearm. A low hum began from an object on the lower abdomen of his armour. It looked like a round gem encased within a flat disc of metal.

While this was happening, Donis examined the armour Kaelis was wearing. Instead of one of the usual Dan-Yeeki nobility robes, he wore a segmented suit of body armour. It was a golden material that appeared to be more plastic than metal. It was light, flexible and didn't appear to hinder its wearers' movements. But appearances can be deceptive. He knew it could take a blast or two and even withstand a few sword blows. Given how fast its user could move, it was all they would need it to withstand.

Suddenly, a bright light emanated from the gem, which grew until eventually it consumed his form completely. It began to recede until eventually there was only a small sphere of light, which ultimately winked out of existence. It was only then they noticed Kaelis was no longer there. Like the light, there was no trace of him.

"Ah...Captain?" Donis heard Flamius' voice in his ear. "Yes, Flamius," he answered.

"What was it you were saying about an air raid?"

"Never mind, is that all you wanted?"

"No, it appears our guests have gotten restless, they are preparing to charge."

"Any sign of this, Kavouris?"

"No. The only leaders are the cultist ones," Flamius answered, "though I could hazard a guess."

"Where?" asked Donis.

"About one hundred meters behind their army, there is that group of abandoned buildings. The centre one is showing a lot of weird activity."

Donis' finger touched the screen that showed the battlefield and dragged it across, shifting the picture until he could see the buildings that Flamius had mentioned. Bright lights of all different hues flashed from the windows of the centre building. Mist rose from openings in the building, adding to the effect that whatever was happening wasn't natural.

Flamius continued after a few moments of hesitation, "Uhhh, captain, that's not all we found..."

"What is it?" Donis asked him.

"We found Titus and his men..." Flamius began.

"Where?" asked Donis.

"On our right flank..." Flamius started again.

"They made it back to us..." Donis said, interrupting him; joy could be heard in his voice.

"But they're on the wrong side of the line!" Flamius said, now interrupting him.

"What?" Donis asked, his jubilant feeling seeping away.

"Donis, they're on the enemy's side leading their left flank and giving commands to their centre," Flamius said matter-of-factly.

Donis didn't say anything for a few seconds as what joy he had felt had turned into a knife stuck in his stomach.

Seeing his distress, Tyrius put his hand on his shoulder as he asked, "Donis, what is it?"

Donis didn't answer at first; finally, in a slow and emotionless voice he said, "Titus and his men have betrayed us, Master."

"What?" Tyrius asked disbelievingly.

"Their leading the enemy's left flank." Donis responded.

"No...That's not possible...it doesn't make any sense," argued Tyrius.

But Donis didn't answer him; his mind was elsewhere. As the others asked each other questions, shocked at the revelation, he turned away alone with his thoughts.

Suddenly, Donis blurted out, "Of course!"

They all looked to him as he turned to look at them, "Apologies, Master, but you're wrong, it does make sense." As he looked to his men he asked them, "That great white in the cultist's hideout, did anyone else wonder how they got that control unit on it?"

It was Rictus who answered, "I just assumed it was the reapers."

"As did I, but on the shark I noticed small bite marks on its side. Titus must have latched onto the beast so he could attach the unit."

He let that sink in and then continued with another theory. "And when I was attacked I could smell Templars near me, but you guys were long gone by then; it must have been Titus and his men."

He then hit them with a third theory, "Sheridan must've called him to warn him where I was going."

Again, the others broke into confused conversations about Titus and his men, but now he was thinking of something else. Flamius said Titus was leading the left flank and giving orders to the centre. So the question was where was Kavouris instead of leading his army?

Then it clicked. Why wasn't the demon leader of this force at its head? "Son of a bi...!"

"What is it, Donis?" Tyrius asked.

"They're summoning him. That's why we've not seen him! That's why we've only been dealing with his lackeys! That's why the big bad is a no show at this major conflict!"

Tyrius nodded, "Makes sense."

Donis' eyes were wide with excitement. "We can stop it or we could banish him! You know...just after the summoning."

"What about Titus?" asked Pellos whilst stepping forward.

"He and his men will be found and will be dealt with accordingly and..." began Tyrius.

Donis interrupted him with, "They will die. They will die for their treachery. They will die for attacking us. They will..." In moments, he had gone from excited and jubilant to brooding and vengeful.

But then he in turn was interrupted by Pellos, "Then you're gonna have to make up your mind on what you want to do."

"What?" asked Donis, clearly confused by the statement. He turned to see that Pellos was looking over his shoulder so he spun to see what was on the view screen. Titus and his men were taking their places to lead on the left flank of the enemy army.

Then he heard Daedelis swear, "The gall of those bastards, showing their faces here." Then they heard him chuckle.

"What?" asked Rictus.

"It's lucky of Titus to have placed himself on the far right flank. I imagine there are two hundred senior Templars in the centre who would love to rip him apart," he answered, after which he chuckled again.

Everyone except for Donis joined in, but he appeared more focused now. The mindlessly enraged look had gone from his eyes.

"Damn...it has nothing to do with luck. They set themselves to hit the Initiates on the right flank. They can avoid our strong centre and run unopposed right into our young ones!"

"So what if they do? Our boys behind that barricade can just roll them back and keep that flank covered," countered Rictus.

"But against one of their own Captains? It's psychological warfare. Titus may be treacherous but he isn't dumb and he'll play on this advantage. It may just give them enough to wipe out those boys."

Also, another fact to take into consideration is the left flank and the Morlocks are duplicating this effort as well. If both flanks of Initiates were wiped out, the human soldier reserves would more than likely break. Who could blame them if they saw mere children slaughtered? But it wouldn't stop there. The young ones' demise would demoralise the senior Templars who would then be surrounded on all sides. Donis didn't have to convey this to the others. He could tell by their dim expressions that his earlier words had led them onto this same train of thought.

Donis made his decision. "We have no choice. Kavouris can wait. We have to go after Titus and his men."

"No," said Tyrius, "I will personally deal with my misguided students." Although he hid it well, they could sense his anger at his student's betrayal.

Donis argued with his decision. "Master, with all due respect, no one doubts your battle prowess, but to take on six Templars by yourself? Even you would be sorely pressed to accomplish this. We have sufficient numbers to do so.

"Also, you are the heart of this army. If by some chance we lost you, the whole army would fall apart. Even the senior Templars would falter. One of us has to stay with the line. I am a frontline soldier and have never been the brilliant tactician you are. If we do falter, the men need you to look to. For not only are you a father to them, you are a symbol of what the Grey Templars are!"

His arguments seemed to cut through Tyrius' anger. He nodded, "All right, Donis. You and your men will go. Show no mercy to the enemy. Not even your...I mean, those men who were once your brothers." He paused then added, "God be with you, my sons."

His words amused Donis. Why would they have any trouble showing no mercy to traitors?

They all bowed to him.

"All right, let's go," Donis said as they turned to make their way to the teleportation chamber. Father Harkon met them in the doorway. "So where are we going?" he asked with a smile on his face.

Donis looked back at his men, then back to Harkon. "We are going into battle to confront Titus and his group. You, on the other hand, will stay here."

Harkon answered with a raised eyebrow, "Oh really? I didn't know I was under your command. The conditions of your surveillance was that you could 'advise' me on my actions; this ruling was passed on down by the courts."

"You don't realise the danger you'll be in down there. Random gunfire from both sides would cut you down in seconds. We at least have armour!" Donis pointed out. "Besides, don't you have other texts on Kavouris to translate?"

"My aides are seeing to it. As for me going down, it's a danger I will risk. Those youngsters down there may be brothers and sons to you, but many of them are my students. I've often lectured them on ideals like bravery and moral beliefs. How brave and moral would it look to those boys if I didn't follow my own examples? Imagine, Captain, the lift in their spirits when they see me, a clergyman standing beside them against the tide of evil. It would be a symbol that God indeed is with them." Harkon continued with a mischievous grin across his face, "As for me getting shot, I am sure your 'armour' will prove efficient in protecting me as well, provided I can hide my bulk behind one of you short skinny runts."

Donis smiled for their armoured forms did indeed make Harkon look like a small and insignificant target. "You know, Padre, I think I liked you better when you were shy and quiet."

Harkon's grin turned to a smirk.

Donis' face then became serious. "Padre... uh, where's Mara?" so consumed with the mission was he that he hadn't noticed her absence until then.

"She was behind me when we were listening to your conversation with Grand Master Tyrius a moment ago," replied Harkon.

"Captain!" shouted the Templar in charge of the teleportation control station. He walked back into the room he had previously been in.

"What is it?" Donis asked as he stood next to Tyrius, behind the seated Templar.

"Sir, someone overrode the controls and performed an unauthorised teleport to the surface." Donis' heart sank as he realised who it was. "Damn it!" he said, hitting his fist against the console. "What does she think she is doing?" They sensed his anger as it showed in his voice and saw it in the fear painted clearly on his face.

"You suspect treachery?" Tyrius asked.

"No, something worse. An insane desire for revenge. She suffered greatly at his minion's hands. She's going after Kavouris by herself," explained Donis.

"But she doesn't know how to defeat a demon," stated Pellos. Father Harkon gasped as he said this.

Donis turned to him. "Does she, Padre?"

Harkon looked like he was going to be sick. "I didn't think anything of it at the time. We were passing time. She asked me how you destroy demons. I thought her interest was purely of your actions. I didn't think. I'm sorry. I am so sorry!"

"What exactly did you say, Padre?" asked Donis.

"Well, that demons don't actually have physical bodies. That they have to possess and take over another's body in order to exist on the material plane like humans do. That they are ethereal beings and they can't literally be destroyed by human means.

"That their essences can be trapped within certain blessed weapons of the past of our religion and that of other sects. That the best a normal mortal weapon could hope to do is destroy a demon's mortal vessel. Although most demons can regenerate any wound, destroying the heart by cleaving it or the brain by severing its head will banish it from its mortal vessel.

Unfortunately, unlike trapping it with one of those blessed weapons, this is a temporary solution. When its mortal vessel is destroyed, its essence is returned back to hell after which its followers can summon it back to another vessel. That is all I told her. Unfortunately, I think it was enough."

When no reply came from Donis, they all turned to him only to see him staring into space as if his two choices had consumed his world. Would he abandon his troops down there in their time of need or would he leave the woman he loved to face a powerful demon lord all by herself. The decision was all but tearing him apart. Finally, Pellos spoke. "Set coordinates for that group of buildings one hundred metres behind the enemy," he ordered the teleporter operator.

"Cancel that order," came Donis' voice. "We have to deal with Titus' threat before we go after Kavouris, for if the army fails, nothing else matters." His voice was strong and showed nothing but determination. A single tear fell down his face, which showed how much his decision was hurting him. He straightened his back, "Let's go," he ordered them.

Harkon looked at him meaningfully. Donis paused then nodded and unholstered his bolt launcher. "Here, Padre. If you are coming with us, you will carry this," he announced as he handed the weapon to Harkon.

Harkon looked down at it as he accepted the offered weapon. "Captain, I can't use this. You know that."

"What I do know, Padre, is that we will be facing six Templars. There are only five of us, which leaves one unattended. In all likelihood, that one will come after you. You have to keep him at bay. It has a reinforced metal structure," he said, indicating to the weapon. "It will take a few nasty blows. All you have to do is fend him off until one of us can help you."

Harkon said nothing but he nodded to Donis. They could all tell he was scared but he was willing. Without another word, they left the room to go to the teleportation chamber. They all moved onto the circular plate at the centre of the room. The last thought that they all had in their minds was were there any more surprises for them down on the battlefield they were about to enter? Then a blinding bright light engulfed them.

Unfortunately, the enemy army did have at least one more surprise. It was revealed as Flamius watched the armies' centre that comprised of five hundred cultists. All were kneeling except for a small number of them who remained standing. His eyes widened as those kneeling began to chant, while those that were standing began to writhe as if suffering some sort of fit or seizure. "Mother of God," he muttered as the writhing cultists bodies began to warp into larger, more disfigured bodies.

The same thought rippled through the Templar ranks. These were not Kavouris' cultists; they were the followers of other demon lords allied to this cause — demon lords who were being summoned by their minions at that very moment.

As they began to form, features became more recognisable. Most were minor demons, not well known but formidable nonetheless. Although, to his horror, Flamius recognised some of them. They included the most powerful of demon lords noted in scriptures or witnessed in previous incursions.

Septus the Vile, a loathsome creature of long limbs attached to a small unproportioned body. His body was covered in weeping sores and bulbous pustules. But this was by far the least horrifying of his features. His neck terminated as a bloody stump where his head should have been. While this useless limb that constantly leaked blood and puss was his most horrifying feature, the most bizarre was that his missing head was in his body protruding out the front giving the weird impression that his body consisted of a head and four limbs.

Another familiar figure was Skal-Raw, the Hound Master. Skal-Raw himself was nothing special. He looked more or less like a werewolf, that is to say he had the body of a seven-foot male human to which the head of a wolf-like creature was attached. But there the resemblance ended. A werewolf's look is of a primed well-kept creature whereas Skal-Raw, while muscular, had patches of shaggy fur, which made him look like an overgrown mangy mutt. However, it was his hounds that commanded most of the attention.

They were huge. Standing on all fours, they stood at four-and-a-half to five feet tall. Instead of fur, they had reptilian scales covering their bodies with smoke emanating from them. They had horned protrusions all over their bodies from the ridge of their noses and their temples to even dorsal spines, which were connected to an exposed spinal column. Their faces resembled a pit bull terrier's with long fang-like teeth extending from both the lower and upper jaws. Their tails, so unlike a dog's, they resembled a scorpion's stinger. One creature alone was enough trouble for a whole squad of Templars. Skal-Raw had four of these gigantic beasts in his hunting pack.

Flamius's eyes widened as he witnessed something he never thought possible. An immense figure, almost twelve feet tall and six feet wide, pushed its way to the front of the enemy centre. Underneath its reddish-black skin rippled bands upon bands of muscles.

Its hands were half the size of a man's body. Its wrists were two feet thick. In each hand it carried a large demonic axe with wickedly curved blades. Their hafts had faces on them that moaned and screamed. It was said they were souls of the warriors slain by them, entrapped in them for all eternity to be tortured by their master. The face was a bull's head with far too many sets of horns.

He wore a warrior-like helmet out of which poked a stream of hair tied into a topknot. A large gold ring hung from his nostrils, which was connected by chains to an earring in each ear.

His eyes were the most determining feature. The old texts were completely accurate when they described them as balls of fire resting within his eye sockets.

Flamius felt a tingle of fear pass through him. This creature coming to the fore fit the description of the legendary demon lord Kil-Rah. His names were many but the most common of them was the Devil's Disciple.

There were two reasons for this name. The first is that it is rumoured that Kil-Rah was once human; a satanic cultist that through some vile service was elevated to demon hood by the dark one himself. This is the only case of this obscenity ever happening. Other demons are not converted mortals but rather more a species of their own. The other reason is because it is said that he is second to none in power than the devil himself.

Proof of this power was that in the last hell incursion, he slayed several high-ranking Grey Templars, including Grand Master Tyrius' squad. Although he was vanquished by Tyrius, it was a feat to haunt Templars for generations. Some of the greatest warriors of their order slain; their own Grand Master barely survived the encounter. Flamius could see in the eyes of his fellow Templars he wasn't alone in his despair.

"Motherfuc..." began one of the other squad sergeants, a Templar named Menaleus.

"What?" Flamius asked. When he got no reply, he turned to see him looking off to his right to the enemy flank. Flamius saw Captain Titus leading the enemy left flank. Flamius sighed and looked at his friend, the anger was clearly written on his face, heaving breaths coming from his gilled ribcage, but he also sensed his companion's confusion.

He placed a hand on Menaleus' shoulder plate. "I know this is hard but it has to be done." That was an understatement. Seeing a man who was a teacher, a brother and a father to you turn traitor and knowing that he has to be slain by your hand or by one of your companions didn't sound hard...it sounded unbearable.

Menaleus finally spoke. "Mentor or not, he has betrayed us and so must die. I'd expect you to do the same for me."

He paused then his face broke into a grin. "Besides, knowing your mentor, I don't think either one of us will get a say in Titus' punishment, unless you want to try to beat him to it?"

Flamius laughed. "No thanks. Knowing Donis, it would take all of us to peel him off." Laughter belted throughout the Templar ranks from those that overheard them. Others began joking with each other and soon the tension ceased. Movement brought Flamius' attention back to the front. With their masters now there, the enemy began its charge.
CHAPTER 14

# The Many Faces of Battle

The battle commenced on many fronts. The main battle was between the senior Templars and the cultists in the centre and the two flank attacks on the Initiates by the heretical military men. Also, the morlocks who found themselves now confronted by a Dan-Yeeki war host, which had materialised in front of their original target.

Another army was on its way, unknown to the Templar army. The necromancer Krell smiled as he and his horde of clicking skeletons and shambling zombies made their way to the ensuing combat two kilometres away. Their goal was to attack the human reserves and after they broke them, they would help surround the main Templar force.

"Templar bastards!" he spat out as he thought of his poor brother Kelman falling at the hands of one of their foul members. He stopped his army of the recently arisen as a most unusual sight crossed his path. Two lone figures stood ahead. One looked to be a blood fiend, the other who carried only a walking staff and wearing a cloak was obviously his vampire master.

As he took a closer look at the vampire, it flicked its hood off its head to reveal a shock of long white hair and two white orbs. Talus...well, well, so he has come to stop me and my righteous army of the dead. How could a blind vampire and his servant possibly stand up to his mighty host, which numbered nearly two hundred?

He pointed at them, "Kill them," he ordered the front rows of his army. Ten skeletons attacked Talus while five zombies shuffled toward his companion.

The blood fiend jumped at his slower opponents. Men had been known to empty entire clips of modern-day assault rifles and barely phase these monstrosities, but the supernatural strength and sharp talons of their enemy all but tore them apart like wet papier-mache. The skeletons didn't fare any better. Talus twirled his staff and smashed two of their skulls with one blow. He spun around and another two fell as he broke his way through their legs. A fifth charged in only to have the staff planted into its ribcage, lifted off the ground and then flung away. It sailed through the air toward the blood fiend, who with one mighty swing of one of its taloned hands, shattered it in mid-air.

Talus quickly flicked the ends of the staff off to reveal two one-foot blades. The bladed staff sliced through the air and separated a spinal cord just under the rib cage. He kicked up to connect with the underside of another skeleton's pelvis. Such was the power that it crushed and grinded the vertebrae against one another until they dislocated themselves and it fell to the ground in a bone-ridden heap.

He turned to see bony fingers reach out in an attempt to grasp his throat as he turned. He snuffed a laugh as the skeleton's move baffled him; he was already dead so choking him was pretty useless. It really was a moot point; however, as before they reached him he performed a figure eight with the bladed staff cutting both its arms off at the shoulder. He spun and then removed its head with a horizontal slash.

As the last two assailants closed, he adjusted his grip on his weapon and with a click, the bladed staff separated into two short swords. The first skeleton swung at him with another skeleton's leg bone in its grip. He blocked it with one sword and sent the other in a riposte that crashed through its ribcage and cut it in half. The second skeleton didn't even have the chance to attack as he swung the swords in two brutal arcs that cleaved into both its neck and lower spine. He spun to a standstill as it fell, its existence finally over.

Krell was horrified. Although he had more of his army to throw at his enemies, his vanguard was demolished. Nothing stood between him and this un-dead combat monster who stood stock still only five metres away. It hit him how close to mortal danger he was and his heart was beating so hard that this fiend could probably hear it. As if reading his mind, Talus smiled. It was then Krell realised he had read his mind. Another realisation came to him as Talus looked right at him, or more accurately, at his chest. Talus had heard his heart beat and used it to pinpoint his location. But his heart froze icy needles of fear piercing his chest as Talus raised and pointed one of his swords at him and said one word softly but loud enough for him to hear, "Gotcha..."

Back on the battlefield, Gorax, leader of the morlock mercenaries, surveyed their waiting enemies. He was a full head taller than all of his men, making him stand out amongst his men who ranged about two metres in height. A thin layer of drool dripped from his tusked lower jaw. He spotted the Dan-Yeeki leader and growled at his men in a very low and guttural voice, "Dat pretty one's mine. Anyone touch him and I'll rip off their head and stick it up their arse!" His men didn't doubt this threat as they'd seen it done to one poor bastard that had doubted.

"Alright, me little brothas, let's kill us some pretty boys!" With that said, they charged, screaming and howling war cries and waving their weapons wildly as they went.

_Disgusting_ _savages_ , Commander Kaelis thought as he watched the morlocks approach. To hunt this scum, to have to face them on the battlefield was almost a bad joke.

What rabble, for that is what they were. They weren't an army. Where was their formation, their squad differentiation? All they had were warriors running blindly into a brawl.

Meanwhile, he had his warriors, the mainstay of his army, The Avengers of Kalth, who were named after the Dan-Yeeki's God of war. They were armed with diamond eye rifles for ranged combat and the pistol equivalent of their rifles and Dan-Yeeki combat swords for close combat. They numbered one hundred warriors, which formed the centre of his defence.

On both flanks, he had about thirty Shades — Dan-Yeeki scouts — deployed. With their individual cloaking devices, they were near impossible to detect, making them effective ambushers, snipers and assassins.

Lastly, he had deployed his mobile heavy artillery on a nearby hill so they could fire over their fellow troopers' heads.

Being a rapid-response hunting force, they couldn't take any of the heavily armoured vehicles available to most Dan-Yeeki forces, but he made sure he had at least a small portion of his force dedicated to heavy support fire. That's why twenty of his men were on that hill with a variety of heavy weapons including anti-personal, anti-tank and anti-aircraft.

One such weapon was the Dan-Yeeki 'Youll Seether Light' energy assault cannon. It consisted of a main chassis, a round and organic shape about three feet long, an inner concealed trigger and hand grip. It had one large barrel surrounded by a ring of smaller rotatable barrels. It could fire a slow but powerful blast that could pass straight through the strongest tank armour or it could lay infantry and aircraft to waste with a volley of faster, less powerful blasts.

Despite these advantages, he would not underestimate his foe. Slovenly beasts, thoroughly untrained and undisciplined as well, but formidable and deadly warriors they were. It wasn't in their skills for they possessed none; it was in their genetics. They are an unbelievably hearty race, fast healers and little to no nerve response to pain.

He'd seen one, after having its arm shot off, continue its assault by hacking four warriors apart until he removed its head from its shoulders. That was a lesson he had taught all of his men, "You either kill them outright or they will kill you."

Few commanders had made the mistake of underestimating these killers. Those that did paid a high price and Kaelis vowed he would never be among that number.

The first wave of the morlocks reached the heavy weapons' range. Kaelis signaled them and all hell was unleashed on the approaching warriors as they opened up with a variety of weapons.

Some were melted by incendiaries, others were blown to pieces by explosives and some even fell torn to shreds by fast-moving, high-impact energy blasts. Kaelis ordered Sub-Commander Regis, leader of the Shades, to attack the flanks of the stationery second wave of which Gorax was standing in the centre.

As the first wave reached the fifty-metre range from the main Dan-Yeeki force, Kaelis and his men opened fire. The resulting storm of shots decimated the running warriors. Of the one hundred that charged, only twenty made it to close range and fired their own weapons. Primitive slug weapons and damaged modern weapons were fired but those that did hit couldn't penetrate even the Dan-Yeeki's light-weight armour.

When they were ten metres away, the Dan-Yeeki that looked to take the brunt of the charge pulled out their swords and pistols. The diamond eye rifle was vambrace mounted and thus did not interfere with their operational movements and allowed them to draw alternative weapons fluidly.

Kaelis ordered one more volley; he and his men fired their pistols when the morlocks were only five metres away. Only ten of the morlocks made it into combat while fifteen Dan-Yeeki, including Kaelis, had moved to intercept them. The morlocks' fierceness in their charge truly made up for their lack of numbers. Several Dan-Yeeki were quite literally bowled off their feet. They swung wildly all around with their large cleavers, axes and clubs, but most didn't stop...

They continued on toward the hill that contained his heavy support team.

Two morlocks sought to distract Kaelis. When it was clear that this is all they were attempting to do, he quickly dispatched both. While their attacks were in the main attempts to distract him, he shot one in the groin with his pistol at point blank range. The other was dispatched with a quick thrust of his sword as he spun to face it. The sword reached under the rib cage then up into its heart. He ignored the other monster's high-pitched screams.

As he turned to see how his men were progressing, he sensed something by his feet. He lifted his leg so his knee touched his chest, avoiding the blow aimed at it. The morlock must have had its leg shot off at the knee during one of the volleys and dragged itself forward unnoticed to take a swing at Kaelis. After avoiding the attempt, he brought his heel down on the back of its head and cracked its skull.

Unengaged, he could now see what the enemy was planning. He saw the five morlocks that had made it past his men reach the bottom of the hill.

Gorax growled in anger as another of his men fell, a blast sniping him expertly in the head. They couldn't find their invisible assailants. They'd be revealed only for a moment as their rifles would disrupt their cloaking devices and then vanish again.

Gorax was sure their attackers were on both flanks, as a handful of his men ran from the attack on the left flank and then screamed as they were cut to pieces by invisible blades on the right flank. He was certain that they hadn't hit any of these silent assassins. In fact, he was pretty damn sure that the only casualties his men's wild and uncontrolled firing had caused were several of their own. Gorax smiled as he saw his men reach the hill and its occupants turned to face them. He knew now was the time to attack.

Impressive, thought Kaelis as he saw the morlocks' plan start to come into play. It was a simple plan borne of a simple mind but no less effective. The first wave, or what remained of it, would try to distract or silence the big guns, buying the second wave the time it needed to reach Kaelis' centre. The centre ranks as a natural reaction — when the morlocks passed by them and posed no threat — left them to the heavy weapons team. Kaelis didn't panic, he didn't obtain the rank of commander in one of the most elite units in the Dan-Yeeki military by being tactically inept. The enemy had just gained an advantage but the fact that he'd anticipated the enemy's plan before it had been implemented meant he could still stop them, and he set about doing just that.

Firstly, he ordered Sub-Commander Grelis leader of the heavy weapons team and his men to ignore the approaching warriors, who had now reached the base of the hill and concentrate on the second wave. Grelis looked uncertain about that order as he eyed the five berserkers starting their ascent up the hill.

"Trust me, they'll be taken care of before they reach you!" Kaelis reassured him, sensing his unease.

"Let's hope so," Grelis muttered under his breath so his communicator didn't pick it up.

Although Grelis didn't realise it, Kaelis was thinking along the same lines. He hoped this worked otherwise it could lead to him ham stringing his own army.

Next, he ordered a squad of his own men to intercept the five morlocks behind their lines. Ten peeled away including his second in command, Sub-Commander Kaisar. He was taking a gamble but he was sure his men could make it.

While the morlocks' genetics gave them physical attributes of great strength and even greater resistance against physical damage, they didn't appear to be a race that bred fast runners and it was a steep hill they were running up. He hoped his calculation would allow his men to get within shooting range by the time the enemy got halfway up the hill. If they got too close to the heavy weapons team, shooting at them would risk their own companions' lives.

His gamble paid off as the morlocks reached halfway up the hill, just as Sub-Commander Kaisar and his men reached maximum firing range. They lined up and let loose with a withering round of shooting, which tore into the backs of their targets. The energy blasts punched through their crudely armoured bodies.

Four fell although one still managed to stumble to the top before dying, his life pouring out of his many wounds. His last sight was of the flat of Grelis' booted foot rushing toward his face.

After Grelis had sent the mortally wounded morlock rolling back down the hill, he then joined the rest of his men as they opened fire. Once again, they wreaked havoc on the enemy, artillery raining down on the second wave, decimating them. The second wave had started out with just two hundred men. But with the artillery hammering them and the constant ambushing by the Shades, only seventy-five made it, only to be fired upon by Kaelis and his main group. Another twenty-five fell as they reached within fifty meters.

After seeing how ferocious and devastating their charge could be, Kaelis decided to charge them and counteract their advance. He thought it would be a better option than staying stationary and accepting it. He and the hundred or so Dan-Yeeki warriors with him drew out their pistols and swords. Kaelis took a deep breath and stepped forward, turning to look left to right at his men. He then turned to look at the approaching morlocks and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Charge!"

The Dan-Yeeki line leapt forward, unleashing their high-pitched war cries. The two forces clashed...

It was a battle of speed verses strength, grace verses brutality and trained skill verses sheer bloodlust.

Two morlocks attacked Kaelis, this time their intention was to kill him rather than distract him. The first swung downwards with a club. Kaelis stepped back and the club just missed him. He then swiped down with his sword onto the club, which overbalanced his opponent. Kaelis' sword reversed and sliced back to open the vulnerable morlock's throat.

He blocked the second's thrust and then cut the morlock's thigh with a quick riposte. A kick to the solar plexus sent it reeling back.

Before he could even think of charging in to finish his opponent off, something unusual happened to his enemy. It was as if a large invisible hand had hurled him away to Kaelis' right. As Kaelis looked forward again, he saw the answer to what had happened.

Gorax stood before him, brandishing a large war axe, "I told you this one's mine!" he shouted out in the direction he had hurled the wounded morlock. He then turned to Kaelis as he said,

"Time to die, pretty boy!" With drool dripping from his jaws and a blood-curdling roar, he attacked. He came at Kaelis with brutal swings of his large axe. Kaelis didn't even try to block them; instead, he dodged out of the way of blows that would smash his sword to shards if he did try. He ducked under a swipe at his head, which brought him alongside Gorax's flank. Two quick slashes left wounds in both his opponent's thigh and ribs area, just under the armpit.

They didn't appear to even tickle him, as he turned to look at Kaelis. "I'll enjoy eating your heart, little man!" Then with an unexpected turn of speed, he jumped forward with a shoulder charge, the blow launching the Dan-Yeeki commander off his feet.

Kaelis rolled over to his right as Gorax's axe came thundering down toward him. It missed by mere inches and firmly planted itself into the concreted ground. As Gorax tried to retrieve his imbedded weapon, Kaelis quickly leapt to his feet and capitalised on his opponent's preoccupation. A quick strike at Gorax's arm made the morlock leader draw it away from attempting to retrieve his stuck weapon. As it was, he received a terrible gash to his left forearm. This was followed by a low thrust that penetrated just above the knee.

The blade slid smoothly in and out in less than a fraction of a second. Still the beast didn't fall. In less than a second, an idea formed in Kaelis' mind. The morlock was top heavy, most of his muscle being in its upper body, maybe if he...

He ran in as Gorax reached for one of the many weapons hanging from his body. Kaelis stepped onto and jumped off the morlock's wounded left leg. The morlock leader managed to get his hand on the grip of one of the guns holstered on his hip as Kaelis spun through the air. A spinning heel kick connected with the side of Gorax's face. The combination of the power in the kick and Gorax being top heavy sent him spinning off his feet to land flat on his stomach.

No sooner had he landed did Kaelis then reverse his sword and once again leapt into the air.

His intention was to drive his blade down deep into his fallen opponent.

Unfortunately, Gorax was ready for him. Barbaric he may be, but he was intuitive enough to know he was going to be attacked. He rolled over to reveal a short double-barrelled shotgun. He fired when Kaelis was in mid-air a few feet away.

Normally, at such close proximity, he would have been cut in half. But the blast caught the teleportation unit on his lower abdomen, which was subsequently destroyed. Although the unit took the majority of the pellets, a few penetrated his armour, but none were fatal. The force of the impact, however, was not lessened, and as such, he was badly winded and had sustained broken ribs where pellets had dented in his armour.

He was launched through the air to land flat on his back. Kaelis closed his eyes as the pain of his injuries barked at him like an angry dog. He heard Gorax say, "Bet that hurt!" His eyes snapped open as something cold and hard touched his nose and he heard, "Bet this will hurt even more!"

He saw Gorax was back on his feet, with the shotgun in his hand. The barrel was touching Kaelis' face. Kaelis' thoughts were desperate, Maybe I could...No, I can't do anything I'm going to die...If today is my day, I will face it like a man should...

As he edged his hand to his pistol, which had landed next to him, he was shocked as another thought came into his mind. What was shocking was that it wasn't his thought that he heard in his mind as it said, Sometimes you can be so melodramatic, Kae!

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glistening silver object streak through the air to impact on Gorax's gun hand. There was an explosion of blood as it lodged itself into Gorax's wrist. Kaelis recognised the weapon; it was a curved throwing knife of intricate design, not something commonly seen on a battlefield. He turned to see his apparent saviour even though he knew full well who he would see.

It was one of the few of his people known to use throwing weapons as his signature weaponry; the only person who would know and use his childhood name. Someone who he once considered a brother but hardly recognised now. A man who was once a respected fellow commander, but now a homicidal serial killer wanted dead by his own people...

In a full-length leather coat with the arms slashed open to mid-bicep walked the man known as Blade Wind. He walked as if taking a mid-afternoon stroll in a park and not a war-torn battlefield.

One unengaged morlock decided to take advantage of this seemingly unarmed opponent. The warrior came in with a hefty swipe of his huge cleaver. Barely breaking his stride, Blade Wind blocked the blow by smashing a pressure point in his opponent's bicep. Just as the cleaver fell from the pain-wracked arm, using the same hand, he buried his knuckles into the morlock's throat, crushing its windpipe.

He continued striding on as his foe fell to his knees and choked to death.

He passed near a morlock who hammered relentlessly with an iron-clad club at a Dan-Yeeki warrior's upraised sword, which had forced the warrior to his knees. Intent on finishing off his enemy, he didn't see Blade Wind pass behind him.

The morlock didn't know what happened as the black-clad vigilante kicked the back of his leg, forcing him down onto his knees. He especially didn't know what had happened when he died as Blade Wind placed both hands on his head and gave it a savage twist. Breaking his opponent's neck stopped him only a moment as he continued onto his target: Gorax.

The morlock leader drew out a pair of pistols as he saw that this little crazy man — who had killed two of his better warriors — was coming after him. Up until that point, Blade Wind had been moving slow and purposeful. But as Gorax brought his pistols to bear on him, he exploded like lightning. Only six feet away, he leapt into the air; a split kick knocked Gorax's hands wide open. A third kick from Blade Wind whilst still in the air broke his nose. Gorax rocked back on his feet, stunned by the punishing blow that had also broken one of his tusks.

He didn't have a chance to retaliate as a low kick to the inside of his unwounded knee buckled both legs as his wounded one couldn't support his weight by itself. A blow with the back of Blade Wind's fist to the groin that bowed Gorax down was followed by one to his already broken nose, which sent his head back and his chin up, only to be met by a powerful uppercut that lanced under his chin to snap his whole body upright.

With his target's body wide open, Blade Wind extended his arms. A mechanism on his wrist guard shot out two blades that reached about half a foot over his fists. He went into a frenzy of stabbing attacks to Gorax's body.

Gorax fell to his knees. He was dying; his chest and mid-section quite literally torn to shreds. He was in too much pain to notice or care as Blade Wind stepped behind to grab his hair and lash out with his other arm to decapitate him.

As Blade Wind threw the head on the ground next to Kaelis, morlocks around the battlefield stopped to see the death of their leader. Some fled at the loss of the leader of their group. Others stood slack jawed as their greatest warrior was vanquished. The shocked morlocks were in turn killed as their opponents took advantage of their astonishment.

Five more enterprising morlocks closer to the scene saw the demise of their leader as an opportunity. They themselves could obtain the leadership of their group if they could kill the man who felled their previous leader. This is why they disengaged from their opponents and charged at Blade Wind.

The first two fell as Blade Wind drew out two throwing knives from his belt and threw them.

One was struck in the throat, the other in one of his eyes.

He flicked his arms out and a second device on his wrist guard rotated two knives into his waiting hands. A third charged in but stumbled as one of the knives plunged into its groin. As it was bent over, Blade Wind grabbed its head, twisted and brought his knee up to smash into the side of its face. A thunderous blow it was; it twisted the morlock's head further, snapping his neck like a dry twig.

A split second later, Blade Wind reclined to his right to avoid the fourth morlock who had attempted to tackle him. The extended leg he had left out tripped it as it passed by. It then collapsed as a blade darted into the base of its skull. The fifth morlock was standing stock still about four meters away, shocked by the ease in which his companions had been disposed of.

Blade Wind walked amongst the corpses to pick up his knives. As he did so, he cleaned them and put them away. As he passed the stunned warrior, two quick flicks of his wrist left an 'X' cut into its chest a little to the left of the centre. He then walked over to Commander Kaelis who was just getting to his feet.

"So how..." he began but was interrupted by a very load roar. The warrior he had marked was incensed to a near mindless fury after having been dismissed so lightly. It would show him what a mistake he had made; it would tear him limb from limb, it thought, as it roared in anger and charged its opponent's back. The morlock landed flat on its back next to Blade Wind's feet as it tumbled and rolled to the ground dead. Without taking his eyes off Kaelis, Blade Wind's hand had flicked out behind him. So phenomenal was his alien dexterity that the blade he had thrown had pierced the centre of the 'X' he had carved. The blade reaching the heart, which — like a human's — was located there.

"As I was saying..." he said as he retrieved his knife. "So how long were you going to wait to kill that big ape, Kae?" he asked Kaelis.

"Soon enough, I thought it would make for a better ending," he replied before he could even think not to answer to this traitor.

Blade Wind snorted, "You always did like to play the grand hero. I guess some things never change, Kae."

As he viewed the carnage Blade Wind had wrought, "And I guess some things do, Blade Wind!"

Blade Wind smirked at the mild rebuke and the use of his professional name. "True enough but onto another matter. I saved your life several times and killed your enemies. How will you pay me, Commander?"

"So now you're a mercenary as well as a murderer!" Kaelis blustered. Then an evil grin played on his face as he said, "Besides, I didn't need your help, I could've killed them myself!"

"True, but doesn't an old proverb say, 'It is the thought behind the gift that determines the value and not whether it is needed or not!'"

With that, Kaelis finally understood what Blade Wind was doing. By Dan-Yeeki decree, he should kill Blade Wind on sight but in his present state, he would have no chance. But honouring a debt owed to him would make an exception of this case; Blade Wind was trying to avoid having to kill him. This fact in itself convinced him that some part of his old friend remained in this dark stain on his people and it influenced his decision.

"Very well, for saving my life I offer you a reprieve on your own life's ending until next time," he announced.

Blade Wind bowed to him, "I accept, my lord, until next time!" He looked up at him with a playful grin on his face. "If I were you, I would have those wounds looked at before throwing yourself into another battle. Even heroes can bleed to death!"

Kaelis snuffed a laugh, looked down at his damaged armour and looked back up to see Blade Wind had disappeared. He brought his attention back to the battle; he had lost about fifteen men, the fleeing morlocks were gunned down as they ran. It was a dishonourable act but he believed honour and mercy were luxuries to be given to those that deserve it. These bastards who had tortured and killed innocent women and children certainly didn't. As he gathered his men to order them to strike the military men on the enemy's closest flank, he once again felt a thought not of his own come to his mind. He grinned as he heard, Thank you for sparing me any further grief... my old friend. The smile faded as he brought his attention back to the matters at hand and walked off to get his wounds seen to.
CHAPTER 15

# The Right Flank

On the Templar right flank, the attacking cultists fell in droves to the Initiates firing at them. But still the Initiates despaired for they had yet to fell their treacherous captain and his band of followers. Even though they were at the very front of the approaching enemy, not one of the Initiates' torrents of shots hit them. Their shots appeared to bounce off some sort of protective field; it appeared to be a yellowish green haze that surrounded the renegade Templars.

Titus smiled as he ran forward; nothing could stop him. It was as lord Kil-Rah said; his patron demon lord had blessed him with gifts. He could read another person's mind and communicate with them. He could throw balls of fire from his bare hands. He was also stronger and faster than he had ever been.

He looked down at his short-handled glaive. What need did he have for such a weapon? He could tear most things apart by virtue of the thick black talons that had grown from his fingers. But he needed it in order to follow his ambition; he only served Kil-Rah as a means to an end. After he had sufficient power, he would banish him and take his place as the devil's champion.

From then on, he would learn all he could, then in turn dispose of his future master and assume his fate as ruler of the Underworld. Only when he was in charge would there be peace on earth...

...That, after all, was what he was trying to achieve. He wasn't a traitor like his former brothers thought. He was just taking a different approach. He knew that the only way to defeat a great and powerful foe such as evil was to turn its power back upon itself. He would fight demonic power with demonic power and he would succeed where so many hadn't. An inevitable death, fighting a futile battle, he for one wouldn't give his life like his predecessors, just to fail.

He would fight evil on his own terms and he would win. But first he would have to defeat his former comrades, which would probably involve him slaughtering the young Initiates ahead. So be it, he thought, when playing chess in order to win you may have to sacrifice some pawns. On the other hand, he would need followers, if some could only be convinced that this was the cause to follow. As he contemplated this, his eyes settled on one of the Initiates who was of his genus. As he ran forward, he pulsed a thought to the young Templar. Do not fear me, have I not been like a father to you? The student stopped firing as the question was put to him.

Titus continued his mind speech, Come now, you know in your heart I am right! he pulsed. As he projected his thoughts to the Initiate, he saw the youngster wavering, Join me!

Kulkis was confused as any fourteen-year-old would be when posed with the question on his mind. What is right? Embrace and join a lesser evil in order to stop a greater evil? Damning himself a traitor to be hunted down by his own brothers? Or does he go against the only father-like figure he had ever known, whose argument made sense? The fight against evil did indeed seem futile and desperate.

Titus bared his teeth in anger as an energy blast from the young Initiate — that would have nailed him between the eyes — was deflected by the protective aura surrounding him. He growled as the student's thoughts came to him... So how will it help if I abandon and turn against my brothers in this desperate and futile fight, to help you achieve your own ambitions!

Titus sent out a mind pulse so powerful all the Initiates heard it, I'm going to enjoy eating your hearts!

The youths faltered; the power needed to perform such an amazing feat shook their resolve and most ceased firing. When he was twenty-five metres away from the barricade, he had to avert his eyes as a big bright light came down from the sky to land just behind the Initiates' lines. As the light died away, he saw Grand Master Tyrius striding toward the Initiates' lines.

He spoke in a calm but loud voice, "Stand fast, my sons! For you are Grey Templars! You are humanity's last stand!"

Titus heard Tyrius' words and bristled with rage as he saw that while the Initiates didn't turn to look at Tyrius, they stood more straight backed at his words. Once again, they commenced firing and decimated the soldiers with Titus.

Titus howled in fury as the protective aura covering him started to flicker. Self-confidence — that was the fuel for all demonic powers. Or so the Demon Lord Kil-Rah had told him. Lose your self-confidence and your powers fade. He remembered himself saying back then, "I don't lose my self-confidence."

But now it was different, the sudden and unexpected appearance of his former master and renewed determination of the students was indeed worrying him. The Grand Master couldn't take all of them on but he could take at least one of us with him. What if it's me? Titus quickly changed his train of thought as the aura flickered even more.

They were but ten metres away from the Initiates when another white light landed upon the ground. This time right in front of him, a concussive wave of force exploded out only a few metres, but it was enough to blast Titus and his men off their feet.

The aura disappeared altogether as he heard a voice that sent a chill down his spine. "Did you miss me?"

He knew that voice; he hated it, detested it, he despised that voice and everything its owner stood for. This was confirmed as the light dissipated to reveal Donis and his squad armed and ready. Titus and his men got back to their feet to face the brothers they had betrayed. Room was left around them; none of the soldiers dared to interfere with this clash of titans.

With similar loud roars, Daedelis and Syphonius launched themselves at each other; consumed by their bloodlust, they didn't even bother to pull out their weapons. They tackled one another and went down in a storm of punches.

Decidius and Brackis howled and hissed at one another, then Decidius leapt forward to bring his scimitars down on Brackis' head. Both swords landed on the haft of Brackis' upraised glaive. Both were warriors of equal strength, straining against one another to no apparent avail.

Letais raised his gauntlet-mounted heavy-calibre machine gun at Rictus. But, before he could fire, quick as a flash Rictus drew his pistol and fired. The energy blast hit the barrel of the heavy weapon; the impact skewing it partly off its mounting. Letais growled in anger as he ripped off the now ruined weapon and then drew his knives, only to see Rictus aiming his own heavy weapon at him. A gauntlet-mounted compact missile launcher with a magazine feed was aimed right at him. Since he was only five metres away, he couldn't dodge fast enough. With both of his knives in hand, he couldn't even duplicate Rictus' earlier effort; he was dead to all rights. He then saw Rictus smile as he flicked the launcher's trigger back into his gauntlet, disabling it, and drew his long two-handed sword.

Letais let off a hyena-like laugh as he shook his head and said, "I've always said pride would be the death of you! Now I get to prove it!" With that said, he charged in.

Valtais and Pellos circled one another. Occasionally, one or the other would dash in to attack, Pellos with his short swords and Valtais with his twin-bladed axe, which would then be blocked as they went back to circling one another. They were evenly matched; while Pellos was faster, Valtais was stronger.

Adrius flashed a feral grin with his lizard-like teeth as he noticed Father Harkon standing off to the side of the ensuing conflicts. The priest was standing behind a nearby shack that was pockmarked with holes from the awesome amount of fire power that the Initiates had produced. The priest had not seen him yet; now it was time to do what his genus did best.

While these melees swirled around them, Donis and Titus stood dead, still staring at one another, then Titus broke the silence.

"While I'd love nothing more than to kill you, my deal with lord Kavouris must come first!" he said in a matter-of-fact-like tone.

"Why? What could he possibly offer you that was worth betraying us?" asked Donis.

"The devil's secret, his one true weakness! The knowledge I need in order to complete my quest!" Titus hissed at him.

Donis raised an eyebrow as he brandished his sword. Obviously, somewhere along the line of becoming a traitor, Titus must have lost his mind. Donis said as much, "You know, Titus, your mind has really taken a step forward...and left the rest of you behind!"

Titus snarled as he drew back his hand and a fireball the size of a human head appeared upon it. The ball of fire then shot forward as his arm snapped toward Donis. Donis rolled on his shoulder and dropped his sword as he dodged out of the way. When he got to his feet, he saw Titus draw his arm back for another fireball. As the arm came down, Donis dashed in and knocked it to the side as he parried it with the forearm of his bionic arm. He then countered with a quick right hook that split Titus' lip. Donis then danced back a step to scoop up his sword while Titus' hand reached for his pistol.

Donis came up with his sword in hand, just as Titus drew his pistol and drew bead on him. The pistol discharged as the blade of Donis' sword smote the side of it. The shot went wide as Donis jumped in for another hook; this time a more powerful punch that smashed Titus' cheekbone and put him down on one knee.

A scream from behind Donis told him that while Titus missed him with his shot, someone else hadn't been as fortunate. He brought his attention back to his opponent as Titus picked up his glaive. He charged in with a heavy swipe at Donis' mid-section. Donis jumped back so fast he became a blur of motion. Titus was nonplussed; he had seen Donis pull off his 'shadow tricks' before. He didn't realise until it was too late, however, that the blur wasn't going back anymore; it was getting closer.

Titus flew backwards through the air; the last thing he had seen was Donis' form solidifying from its blurred state. His view then was soon encompassed by the oncoming metallic fist of a bionic arm. It was a devastating blow that broke Titus' nose, turning his face into a bloody mess.

"Rrraaahh!" With a scream, Titus was back on his feet, his eyes blazed with an insane rage. "To hell with Kavouris, you're dead!" With that said, he charged in again.

Titus, going down two times, seemed to swing most of the melees Donis' team's way.

Daedelis' and Syphonius' brawling continued with both taking and receiving some of the most powerful blows a Templar could unleash. Even with the abilities inherited from their parent genus animals — those of the grizzly bear and the elephant — such power had never been seen before by the Initiates witnessing their fight. Close to killing each other with their bare hands, the brawling ceased as weapons were drawn.

As they pulled away from one another, Daedelis drew out both of his heavy military picks and Syphonius his large-headed war hammer. Syphonius came in with a lusty swipe at Daedelis' head, which he ducked underneath and then threw his shoulder into his off-balanced opponent's mid-section. Syphonius stumbled back a few steps and then came in once again, this time with a heavy downward swing. Daedelis avoided the blow and stepped on the haft of the war hammer as it thudded down onto the ground, which wrenched it from Syphonius' grasp. Daedelis swung down with one of his own weapons only to have the haft grabbed by his opponent, halting its swing. Syphonius then struck a blow to Daedelis' face, stunning him, and pulled the military pick from his hand as he spun away to avoid Daedelis' second weapon's swing. Now armed similarly, strengths and weaknesses began to show.

While Syphonius was strong and his blows powerful, Daedelis was the master of his weapons, which he proved as he took measure of and parried all of Syphonius' attacks. He then parried another blow and sent a riposte that took a chunk out of Syphonius' armoured thigh. Syphonius launched an upward swing that Daedelis dodged back from, which was unexpectedly followed by a two-handed downward swing with the reverse end of the pick.

The cruel spike of the reverse end halted a few inches above Daedelis' head as he was forced to block with the haft of his weapon.

Syphonius had the advantage of gravity; with a heave, the spike came down an inch as Syphonius said, "You know something..." Another heave, another inch, "I really am sorry I shot you in the back before..." Another heave, the spike was now poised only an inch above Daedelis' head, "This way is so much more fun!"

With that, he gave one last mighty heave. Just as he applied the pressure, Daedelis swung out from underneath it. With the loss of resistance against his efforts, Syphonius lost his balance and control of his swing.

Thud, clink. Thud was the sound of the spike embedding itself in the ground. Clink was the sound of the now upright tip of the front blade puncturing Syphonius' chest plate as he fell over it. It pierced the armour but stopped before it penetrated his chest too deeply. He was in pain but not dead; it was then he felt a weight on his back.

"Consider this as apology accepted!" announced Daedelis as he slammed his foot down, pushing Syphonius down onto the blade, forcing it deeper into his chest and through his heart, killing him instantly.

Brackis and Decidius danced around one another; the agility being displayed was the equal of their parent genus animals. Like a wolf, Decidius' movements were sleek and explosive, while Brackis, like a python, was sinuous and slippery.

Brackis lashed out with a high-low combination slash. In response, Decidius ducked the high attack and followed with a cartwheel over the low swing, catching Brackis in the side of his face with his leading foot. Brackis spun away from any possible follow-up attacks as a bruise began to form on his left cheek.

Now Decidius came in with his own attack; it began with a double swing of his scimitars to the mid-section, which was swiftly followed by a scissor blow to the head and finished with a second scissor blow to the legs. Brackis sucked in his mid-section to avoid the first strike with the blades flickering barely centimetres from him. He then evaded the second blow with a back bend that nearly reached a ninety-degree angle. Brackis, without hesitation, brought himself upright — anticipating the follow-up low blow — and dived forward. Brackis' dive took him over Decidius as he ducked low to strike at where his legs were.

Brackis rolled up onto one knee and spun around with a horizontal slash. He was rewarded with a screech of metal rending metal and a scream of pain from Decidius. The glaive had cut deeply across the base of Decidius' spine, his swords fell from his hands and he collapsed to his knees. Decidius distantly felt a hand grab the back of his head and a forearm wrap around his throat; it was then he heard Brackis speak.

"May God forgive you, brother, for I cannot!" With that said, Brackis' forearm and bicep expanded, his specially tailored armour expanded as well to match the increasing size of his arm. The solid surface of his armour with the rapid expanding of his muscle structure conspired to produce a lot of pressure until finally...Crack!

In a single moment, Decidius' throat was crushed and the vertebrae behind it broken; he fell to the ground in a limp mass as Brackis released him. Brackis' ears twitched as he whirled around, dragging out his flame blaster as he heard a cry of pain behind him.

Father Harkon was lost; he stood still next to the shack, unsure of what to do. Several times he had taken aim but couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. He was a priest, for God's sake; he was trained to serve out sermons and prayers, not death and destruction. Bullets and energy blasts tore up all around him. It was then he heard something over the sound of the battle surrounding him; he could only hear it faintly.

"Father...behind you!" He saw the source of the voice calling him, one of the Initiates was pointing behind him. It was Patrius, one of his students who was of the chameleon genus. He spun around but could see nothing but the plain brick wall of the shack.

What was Patrius going on about? he thought to himself. Just then, a sudden chill passed through him. It was an intuitive feeling that most humans got when it felt like they were being watched. Despite this feeling, he could still see nothing but then he saw them, two beady eyes staring at him. As his sight adjusted and focused on this invisible stalker, an outline of its form became clearer for him to see. It hung about two feet off the ground.

Harkon gasped as he recognised who it was, "Adrius!" he managed to choke out.

"That's right, Father, goodbye!" Adrius said as he flashed his sharply pointed teeth in a big smile. Then Harkon saw the sword, which was a large, heavy falchion swinging in on his left.

There was a nice big "Clang" as Harkon blocked with the bolt launcher two-handed and was jolted by the blow. The sword came down for an overhead blow. "Clang," Harkon blocked again but the superior strength of his opponent was beginning to tell as his knees bent with the effort.

"Clang, clang, clang," Adrius rained down three more overhead blows at Harkon driving him lower and lower with each blow. The third blow brought him to his knees and despite his more than heroic effort, his own strength finally failed.

His tired arms couldn't even raise the bolt launcher to fend off Adrius' next blow. The falchion sailed down toward his exposed head. A bright flash of light reflecting off the forte of the blade was the last thing Harkon saw as he bowed his head. He was expecting pain...excruciating pain, but none came...

Adrius snarled as he looked at the remains of his falchion. The pommel, the hilt, the cross guard and an inch of smoking blade was all that was left. The rest of the blade had flown off to his right when the energy blast had hit it.

But who? he asked himself. He got his answer as soon as he looked up. It was in the form of Grand Master Tyrius, his Templar pistol raised and smoking. He was a sitting duck for the sharp eyed Grand Master. Fortunately for Adrius, it was at this time the military men had regrouped and returned to their attack on the barricade.

Now that Tyrius was occupied, Adrius brought his attention back to Harkon who had managed to scramble back a few steps. Adrius leapt off the wall, detaching his remaining hand that had been holding him up via the adhesion gloves his genus were known for using. He flew through the air as he dove at Harkon, bowling him off his feet. Something pressed against his chest, but he didn't pay it any heed as he slammed Harkon onto the ground. Unfortunately for him, Harkon was severely winded with the pain making him clench his fist. This led to him accidentally depressing the trigger of the bolt launcher, which was at that moment pressed against Adrius' chest.

The result was nothing short of spectacular; with a yelp like a whipped dog, Adrius was launched at least ten feet into the air. His pain was short lived as he exploded into flames. Harkon turned away from the melted wreck that landed near him and saw Brackis standing a little way off with his Flame Blaster out and ready; a puff of smoke emanated from its barrel.

Although not severely wounded, Harkon didn't escape unscathed; the force of the bolt launcher going at close range was significant. The recoil was strong enough to dislocate his shoulder.

"Ok, Padre, I think you've had enough fun for one day," said Brackis. After which he spoke to someone else through his communicator.

Positioned as they were behind the enemy's lines as the bulk of the army avoided the Templar conflict, Harkon didn't see a reason for leaving and then along came one. A small squad of heretics had rallied and returned just then. They were returning to the front until they caught sight of Harkon. A priest standing out in the open was too easy an opportunity to miss. They raised their weapons as their fingers touched triggers.

One screamed as he was hit by a shot from Brackis; half his body was consumed. In moments, the man's skin and the underlying muscle and bones liquefied and sloughed away by the intense heat of the flame blast.

Despite Brackis' intervention, this wasn't going to save Harkon as the five remaining men opened fire. Everything seemed to slow down as the bullets came at him. It was as if God had decided to slow down what would be his last few moments on earth. Harkon screamed as a blast of white light blinded him...

As his vision started to return, he could see he was in a chamber of steel plating and a white haze surrounded his vision.

"Am I in heaven?" Harkon asked no one in particular.

"Ah, not exactly, Father," answered a confused voice.

As his vision returned completely, Harkon responded, "Funny, I never pictured hell to be all nice and shiny. High-polished steel plating, it's a very modern-era look!" Harkon said as he snuffed a laugh.

"Father, please!" pleaded the voice that he now recognised as belonging to one of his aids, Karl.

Father Harkon got to his feet and shambled into the Templar's recreation room. He picked up a half empty bottle of vodka and took a large swig. The extreme burning sensation in his throat seemed to cut through his disorientation and bring enough of his senses back to realise he was back on the Persephone.

"Father?" asked Karl who was clearly confused at Harkon's behaviour as he was followed by two other aids.

"Believe me, my sons, compared to other sins I've committed today, these are nothing!" he slurred as the full force of the alcohol went to his head.

After a few moments of silence, another aid called Simon spoke.

"Father, we've discovered more texts concerning this Kavouris that you better see."

"Show me!" Harkon ordered as he stumbled after the aids as they left the room.

When Valtais saw three of his brother warriors fall, the game had entered a new stage. They were now outnumbered almost two to one. He would have to think of a better way to end this fight. Even if Titus did win, and that was still in question, they would still be outnumbered.

That is why he decided he would retreat; to fight on his own terms, he would lure Pellos away from his group and then kill him.

He wouldn't have to worry about being blindsided by one of Pellos' companions afterwards and if his other brothers failed, he could still carry on their legacy.

Valtais snuck a quick look at Donis and Titus trading blows with one another; it was a mistake. Pellos capitalised on his opponent's distraction and a quick scissor blow smashed its way through the reinforced wooden haft of the twin-bladed half-moon axe. Valtais jumped back — with what was effectively a double-bladed axe in each hand — to avoid any follow-up attacks.

He then turned and ran from Pellos, leaving the battlefield in haste. Perplexed by this behaviour, Pellos froze for a few moments before he gave chase. He forced himself at a wary pace as he knew Valtais was up to something for he was no coward.

He had run but a few meters when the trap was sprung. Valtais had dropped an item on the ground as he fled. That item was a sensory inhibiter grenade, a unique disabling device. Its uniqueness comes from the fact that it doesn't attack one singular sense; unlike a stun grenade, which only attacks one of the five senses humans possess. The first attack was a bright flash of light that would have temporarily blinded Pellos had his inhuman sense of hearing not picked up a suspicious sound, which turned out to be the near inaudible sound of the grenade blowing its top cover off in order to unleash its multiple effects.

While Pellos avoided being blinded by turning away, it was his great sense of hearing that was attacked next. The device emitted a wave of high frequency sound that reached up to a six feet diameter in range. The effect was based on the target's proximity to the device in three range intervals.

If a victim was within five to six feet of the wave, they would have a severe headache and affected hearing for a few moments. Within three to four feet, the victim's sense of balance would be affected and they would become disorientated. When the victim was within two feet, they were simply rendered unconscious.

Pellos was within the three to four feet range, and as such, he stumbled as a sharp ringing sound reverberated through his head. The grenade finally let off its final attack; it blew up with a large puff of black smoke engulfing Pellos.

Disorientated and in pain from the constant ringing in his ears, Pellos couldn't avoid it. The cloud contained an eye and nasal irritant not too dissimilar to pepper. His eyes watered heavily, he sneezed and sniffed as mucus blocked his nasal passages. He could hardly see and not hear or smell at all. As he staggered out of the cloud, he instantly felt the effects lessen as his body fought to counteract them. He blinked several times to clear his eyes and he saw Valtais running toward a four-storey warehouse. There could only be one reason Valtais would flee...his sniper rifle.

A traitor he may be but he also remained the finest marksman of the Grey Templars. Pellos knew he couldn't allow him to continue with his plan or they would all be dead. With that thought in mind, he set off after his quarry half blind, practically deaf and with no sense of smell whatsoever.

Like Pellos, Rictus wasn't doing so well as his fellow Templars with his fight either. Titus' stray pistol shot had passed straight through his right bicep, leaving a gaping bloody hole in it.

The wound made lifting his two-handed sword all but impossible and striking with it totally impossible. Rictus snarled in frustration; before he had gotten shot, the fight had been kept to a vicious stalemate; the balance of their fight on the tip of knife, but now the balance had tipped.

And boy am I sliding down that knife edge on my nuts! Rictus thought to himself as another shock of pain hit him.

For the first few moments, Rictus kept Letais back with a few one-handed prods but Letais was just trying to wear him down. His opponent let off a hyena-like giggle. It angered Rictus that he was being toyed with like a cat does with a mouse.

Rictus focused and forced his anger back, now was definitely not the time to lose his temper as Letais' knives took a chunk out of his shoulder armour. Finally, his left arm couldn't bear the weight of his heavy sword and he was forced to drop it to allow him to defend himself.

The first few blows he took on his forearm guards, but it was a doomed defence. Letais was too experienced a warrior not to overcome the defence of an unarmed and wounded opponent.

A stab wound to the thigh and a gash to his flank under his ribcage were the first wounds he suffered. Blood dripped from a slash on his cheek as he backed away. A kick to his injured bicep made Rictus roar with pain as he fell to one knee.

A weak backfist from Rictus warded his opponent off, giving himself some space. Letais giggled once again as he backed away a few meters and then leapt into the air, his knives poised high in order to drive them deep into his opponent. Rictus was almost too overwhelmed with pain and exhaustion to do anything...

Meanwhile, Donis and Titus continued with their enduring melee. "Clang" was the sound of Donis parrying a blow from Titus who then danced back as Donis riposted.

"Chunk, chunk, crack," were the sounds that filled the air as they both came in with an attack. Titus' glaive came down and carved a chunk out of Donis' shoulder pad. Donis' sword caved in the left hand side of the breast plate covering Titus' ribs, breaking two of them. As they backed away from one another, Donis flicked a glance at the only other melee going on nearby and saw what trouble Rictus was in.

Titus charged in, thrusting his glaive at Donis' mid-section, hoping to catch his distracted opponent off guard. But Donis had anticipated this action; he slipped forward and to the side, spinning out of the way. He grabbed the haft of the glaive with one hand and tossed his sword hilt first to Rictus with the other.

With his back now facing Titus, he grabbed the haft with his other hand. He yanked it forward with Titus still gripping his weapon; he was pulled forward as Donis threw his head back.

There was a fleshy smack as the back of Donis' head connected with Titus' already battered face. Titus' hands released the glaive to instinctively grab at his pain-inflamed face. As he was distracted, he was sent reeling as Donis spun and planted a kick to his solar plexus. But Donis wasn't finished; he completed his spin and lashed out with a downward-upper combination with his newly acquired glaive.

Titus backed away clutching his chest plate, which had two very big rends in its smooth surface. Donis shook his head and tossed the glaive aside as he said, "Unlike you, I still have some notion of honour!" With that said, he raised his hands in a defensive guard then, quick as lightning, he dashed forward.

Rictus caught the sword by its hilt as it flew by him. Momentary calculations flashed through his advanced mind. It concluded for him that there was no way he could raise the sword in time to stop Letais who was flying through the air and poised to strike. Letais' blades came down with a double swishing sound. He brought them down to plunge into the unarmoured joints between the neck and shoulders. But they hit nothing but air as Ric rolled onto his back, which gave him the room to raise the sword. Missing his intended target, Letais stumbled as he landed to fall on the extended blade. The blade point punched through the upper abdominal area and passed all the way through Letais to exit out a higher point of Letais' back only to be stopped by the back of his chest plate.

Impaled on the sword, Letais looked down at Rictus; he snarled as he lashed out with his knives only to find himself a few inches short of his target. Rictus drew his knees back into his chest and kicked out his longer legs, easily making the distance to Letais' chest. Letais was launched off his feet, the sword pulled loose from his body as he crashed to the ground.

Letais scrambled back to his feet; he hissed as the pain from his wound set in. Letais knew he was hurt badly. He also knew that as bad as it was, with minimal medical attention and rest, the healing nano-machines in his body could seal and repair the wounds and stop any internal bleeding. But while he was still fighting Rictus, his heart would continue to rapidly pump blood out of his wounds and would bleed to death. He would have to finish Rictus off right now.

But before he could do anything, Rictus attacked. While not a master of his present weapon, he was at least proficient as was any Templar with all types of weaponry. Letais desperately defended himself but even still, Rictus managed to dent his armour in several places and open a small wound in his side.

Rictus backed off; he could see the fury burning in his opponent's eyes and knew what to do. He let off a giggle that was a fair imitation of Letais' hyena-like cackle and the fury turned into uncontrollable rage.

With a scream, Letais jumped forward with a wild swipe at Rictus' head, who in turn ducked underneath it. Letais sucked in his mid-section to avoid the expected riposte from Rictus. He didn't see the trap until it was too late. Having avoided the blow, his head had moved forward in reaction to his evasion, exposing his throat. Rictus had quickly reversed the swing of the sword, its blade sweeping through Letais' jugular.

Letais stood upright and froze for a moment as the knives dropped from his hands; he then fell to his knees. Now desperately grasping at his throat, he looked up at his victor only to see Rictus standing in front of him with his Templar pistol inches from his face.

"I will grant you the quick death you don't deserve!" Without another word, Rictus pulled the trigger. "Fvvtoo," Letais' head snapped back and he fell forward to land on the ground with an audible and very final "thud."

Unlike his fellow brothers who went off to attack the back of the second wave of the heretical military men, Rictus stopped to watch his leader fight for his life.

The fight between Donis and Titus continued, only now it was unarmed combat but it was no less intense or vicious for that fact.

Both combatants were captains of the Grey Templars and both were well versed in all forms of unarmed combat.

Titus was all too aware of his situation; four of his men were dead and Valtais had fled. This didn't bother him as he knew what Valtais was planning. Indeed, it had been Titus' idea that should it look dire for them or their cause, he would retreat to his sniper rifle. Once there, he would take position and no one would be safe from his sharp eye!

But he was now the only one of his squad present. He would have to, at the very least, stall Donis if not kill him and he had just the trick for it. It was his neglected Templar ability.

Up until now, Donis had been gaining the upper hand because he had been relying too much on his demonic powers; powers that were new to him, powers he was not used to using yet. But his Templar ability was something he had used since he was born. It's time for the balance in this fight to shift, Titus thought as he closed his eyes.

Donis watched as Titus opened his eyes to reveal that his pupils had grown and covered most of his eyes. Only small portions of white to the sides of his eyes remained. Not good, Donis thought as he recognised what Titus had done.

Like most sharks, Titus has another visual sense other than his normal sight to rely on. He could see the electro-magnetic fields produced by all living creatures. This had two effects: The first being that Titus could see anybody regardless of whether they were hidden in the dark or camouflaged; electric fields cannot be hidden by these methods. The second — and more unfortunate for Donis — effect was that Titus was so in tune with these electro-magnetic fields, so much so that he could read tell-tail signs that allowed him to predict an opponent's future movements. An ability that effectively, while not physically, slowed down his opponents.

Donis' main advantage had been that he was faster than Titus. Titus was naturally stronger but more so now with the help of his demonic master. But with Titus' ability, Donis' advantage was gone. He could use a burst of speed that not even Titus could stop but he realised that this was exactly what Titus wanted. He could do it but the chances of him causing a fatal wound on another Templar unarmed were unlikely. It would only serve to exhaust him and allow Titus to finish him off. There would come a time, but it was not now. Now he would have to rely on his other skills to pull him through.

Titus moved toward him in a Mui Tai Kick Boxing stance with arms raised. His leading leg was raised up on the ball of the foot. In reply, Donis assumed a basic Kung Fu stance.

Titus came in with a low Thai kick, which Donis evaded by raising his leading leg's knee to his chest. He proceeded to block the two hooks that followed. But Donis suffered as Titus' superior strength came to bear. An elbow swing crashed through his defence to hit him in the side of the head, sending him reeling to his right.

Titus came in once again with a low Thai kick, this time Donis jammed a low kick into Titus' inner thigh, which deflected the leg away.

This off-balanced Titus enough to make him unable to react to a quick straight punch to the stomach, followed by a palm strike to the underside of the chin. His head pushed back by the last blow; Titus didn't see Donis draw back and unleash a powerful double palm strike to Titus' chest. Titus was launched off his feet, landed flat on his back and continued to slide backwards, kicking up a small cloud of dirt.

Titus jumped back onto his feet in a Boxing stance; seeing this, Donis switched to a Tae Kwon Do stance.

Titus came in with a series of jabs and straights and finished off with a heavy hook punch, the last of which Donis spun under, sending Titus sailing right past him. Now it was Donis who attacked, launching a combination of kicks to Titus' head and mid-section as he came in again. While he didn't hit Titus, he succeeded in keeping Titus — with any of his shorter-ranged boxing attacks — at a distance.

Donis then tried to get a quick low front kick in, with the hope of getting past Titus' high-held guard. But thanks to his enhanced sight, Titus was ready for this as he slipped around the kick. Now facing Donis' back, Titus unleashed two uppercuts to his ribcage, Donis arched his back and grunted in pain as the plates protecting his ribs were dented in. A stinging blow to the base of his skull sent him staggering forward.

Donis turned in time to see Titus rushing in to finish him off. He lashed out with a low side kick, which stopped Titus dead in his tracks as he rammed his groin into it. A quick-spinning back kick to Titus' already ruined chest plate propelled him back a few steps.

Donis' minor victory was short lived as Titus tackled him and lifted him off the ground, his arms wrapped around the small of Donis' back.

Donis cried out as Titus tried to crush his spine and the grip grew tighter and tighter. Donis struck with both hands in fists with the middle knuckle of each pointing out. Their targets were pressure points on either side of Titus' neck. Titus screamed in pain as Donis' knuckles dug deep into the pain-causing point, forcing him to let Donis go.

Donis landed on his feet as Titus backed away, grasping his neck. Donis surged forward, throwing out a jab-straight-punch combination. But once again, Titus' enhanced defensive abilities made Donis suffer. Titus blocked the jab and caught the fist of the second punch. Donis' bionic arm screeched as Titus bent the wrist and the resilient prosthetic struggled against Titus' strength. Titus planted a front kick into Donis' side, making him fall to his knees. Still holding onto him, Titus threw another front kick; this time into Donis' face. Donis' head snapped back but luckily his respirator took the brunt of the blow.

Titus walked back and dragged Donis, ensuring he couldn't stand back onto his feet. Another front kick broke the respirator off and it fell to the ground in pieces.

Donis gripped his arm just before the flesh ended and terminated into the machinery of the bionic arm. He initiated the rotation sequence. As Titus still held it in a hold that would not permit it to rotate, it was the rest of Donis' body that did.

Donis rotated a full 180-degrees so that his back was now facing the ground and his feet planted firmly on it. Now able to centre his balance, Donis yanked down hard, his good hand now holding the bionic arm so as not to have it ripped off.

The sudden resistance dragged Titus forward as he had been about to kick again and pulled him off balance. He stumbled forward in time to meet with Donis' rising foot as he raised it in an arc to kick Titus in the throat. Such an awkward kick couldn't generate much power but Titus still gagged and released Donis' arm.

Donis flipped back up onto his feet to see Titus' retractable claws extend out of his gloves as he charged in. Titus snarled as he cocked his arm for a powerful blow intending to remove Donis' head. See this none-too-subtle attack Donis saw it for what it was: an act of frustration.

Titus had thought with his advantages he would win easily but what he hadn't counted on was Donis foreseeing his plan of trying to force him to use a burst of speed and tire himself out in the process. Instead, Donis hadn't used it; he had taken damage as well as given it and he had stayed alive.

The fight was one of attrition and had been kept to a bloody stalemate of sorts but now the balance had tipped as Titus unleashed his mighty blow. The talons ripped through the air and continued to do so as Donis was no longer where he had been standing.

Donis had sidestepped the blow right at the last moment. As the talons sailed past him, he smashed his forearm into Titus' face. This sent Titus' legs shooting out from under him. Such was his momentum; he flipped completely to land on his stomach.

Titus' body ached as he started to push himself up, he had landed on something and he grabbed it without looking. He smiled as he realised what it was; he turned and lashed out at Donis. Donis threw himself backwards as Titus' glaive sliced through the air. Even still, it bit into Donis' chest plate but not too deeply. Donis ducked, weaved and jumped out the way as Titus attacked, but it was clear though that he couldn't keep it up forever.

He sensed something slide at his feet, he put his foot under the object and flicked it up into the air as Titus came in with an overhead blow aimed at his crown. Donis caught his sword in both hands and raised it to block Titus' strike. He riposted with a crescent-shaped blow that cut Titus' leg just above the knee. He stumbled back, which saved his life as the sword whistled past, just missing his throat.

But it mattered not as the fight was now over. Titus saw this as Donis became a blur of movement.

An accumulation of cuts, tears and gashes began to appear on Titus' person. He was unable to stop his opponent, even though his defensive capabilities allowed him to see Donis' attacks. Due to the speed of the attacks, the fraction of a microsecond he had to react was just not enough warning for his physical reactive response.

Donis came out of his shadow dance and Titus screamed in pain. Donis' sword had lodged itself into his left gauntlet. Instead of pulling it clear, he pushed down on it. This forced the arm down while at the same time he kicked up at the arm's elbow. There was a nauseating 'crack' as the opposing forces snapped Titus' arm.

Titus' screaming was cut short as Donis dashed forward and past him, his sword slicing into his mid-section. Donis spun, lashing out and the blade sliced into flesh once more; this time at the back of Titus' knees, forcing him down onto them.

Titus was defeated; he couldn't move his legs, the wounds he had sustained were bleeding profusely. He struggled to get his battered body to respond, but he froze as he felt the blade on the side of his neck.

"Any last words before you die, traitor?" Titus heard Donis say between puffs as he breathed very heavily now, tired from his previous exertions.

Titus responded with "Words no...but this!"

Donis stiffened as myriad of images entered his mind. The momentary flashes were caught by his picture-perfect memory. These were Titus' thoughts, his ambitions and his plan. Donis had to admire the single mindedness of it all. Titus was willing to damn himself a traitor in the eyes of those he sought to protect. But it was a doomed and forlorn hope. Even if Titus did succeed in destroying the dark one — and that was a big IF — and take control of the Underworld, it would soon corrupt him. Power always does, but if he had the support of others of a strong will...

Titus could hear Donis' thoughts, he could sense him turning his plan over and over in his mind. He could sense Donis' skepticism and yet he could also sense a rising excitement at its possible outcome, far more intense than he would have expected of Donis.

Donis would indeed prove a powerful ally and he felt his own excitement rising. But a dark cloud fell over his thoughts; Donis had bested him, it was obvious he would try to take the plan as his own. Titus snarled internally; it was his plan, it would be his victory and the glory would be his and his alone...

Titus raised his right hand in front of his chest and summoned another fireball. He twisted and unleashed it to incinerate this rival to his future plans. Donis saw his shoulder twitch; he dove forward over the opposite shoulder as Titus' hand flashed out. He tucked and rolled and came to his feet; he spun around and moved so fast he practically disappeared.

One moment he was standing in front of Titus, the next he was standing behind Titus. His sword was extended out behind his opponent's neck and dripping with fresh blood. Titus stood still staring absently straight forward with a shocked look frozen on his face. Then his head simply slid off from his shoulders and the rest of his body collapsed to the ground.

He turned his back away from his fallen brother to see how his men were faring. He saw that they and the Initiates had routed the second wave of the heretics but a third was on its way.

Donis' group all froze as they heard a terrible scream on their communicators. They all turned to look at Donis who cringed at the sound. It was a scream of immense pain, it was human, it was female and since it was on their squad frequency, it could be only one person: Mara.

Donis and his men minus Pellos, who they couldn't see, marched on toward the cluster of buildings that was their objective. Any heretics unfortunate enough to get in their way died.

Donis took a shuddering breath as they approached the building, showing the weird activity, fearful of what he would find in there.
CHAPTER 16

# The Centre

True to form, the demons sent their human followers in first to act as cannon fodder. The cultists ran forward, bearing basic melee weapons; some even looked like kitchen utensils. They shouted blasphemous hymns as they approached the well-structured Templar ranks, which were ordered into well-trained phalanxes.

They were composed of four ranks; the first of which contained Templars with single-handed weapons and their vambrace shields activated to form a shield wall.

The second rank consisted of Templars armed with pole-arm weaponry. Spears, halberds, glaives and other such weapons were held over the first rank's right shoulder.

The third rank's Templars were armed with all sorts of ranged weaponry. From rifle-sized flame blasters and gas-propelled bolt launchers to heavy artillery-sized missile launchers and heavy-calibre machine guns.

The third rank held their weapons to the left of the first rank; over their shoulder in the case of the rifle-sized weapons and at the first rank's hip with heavier gauntlet-mounted artillery. The fourth and final rank was a reserve company and stood several paces behind the other ranks.

Flamius watched as the massed cultists ran at them. No thoughts of strategy were involved in their headlong rush, but then these were not military men; unlike those that attacked the Initiates' position and who fought in squad formations and had words like tactics and strategy actually mean something to them. The cultists approaching them were more like a mob, but even a mob could pull down well-trained and armed troops with sufficient numbers.

This mob, however, came with extras in addition to the demons following behind herding along their fanatical followers. Other cultists appeared to be mystics holding globes of fire or lightning or dark energies of every hue. Several spells were unleashed; most fell short but a few of the more powerful spells reached the Templar formations. Flamius' eyes blazed with anger as a few of his men fell to the hell-spawned magic of the cultists.

One Templar was blasted off his feet as a lightning bolt shot straight through his shield and speared into his chest. He was hurled back, knocking over the two Templars behind him. The charred hole in his chest and his vacant expression meant he wasn't getting back up. But his companions got back up onto their feet and into position as one Templar from the reserve rank took his fallen comrade's place.

Another Templar fell as a fireball engulfed him; the heat from the conflagration making the surrounding Templars step back. The engulfed Templar took two steps forward and then fell to the ground: a blackened husk. Again, his companions moved back into rank and one of the reserve rank stepped in for his fallen brother.

Further down the line, a Templar blocked a light purple energy ball with his shield. The ball exploded and emitted a cloud of gas of the same hue, which encapsulated the Templar and another to his left. As the gas cleared, no effect could be noticed and the two Templars continued to stand strong. Then Flamius noticed that the Templars' hair suddenly began turning grey and stringy where moments before it had been thick and full of colour. He saw their skin wrinkle and sag where once it had been smooth and taught. Although they still stood, he noticed them shaking as their arthritic limbs struggled to hold up their weapons and armour. Soon their flesh grew tighter and tighter till they withered away to nothing. Their hair fell out and they fell to the ground in a pile of bones encased in armour, which soon turned to dust and blew away in the wind. Again, reserves moved in and no one seemed phased by the loss, but Flamius knew all their grieving would come after the battle, as would his. As he turned back to the enemy, they reached the furthest range of his long-range weapon squads.

"Third rank, prepare to fire! Target priorities are the mystics!" He raised his sword, lowered it down and shouted, "Now! Fire all!"

The Templar weapons roared as the third rank opened fire with all manner of weapons and the cultists fell in droves. At first, the heavy artillery pummelled them as explosions of fire, plasma and shrapnel blossomed and a storm of heavy-calibre shells rained down on them. When they came within twenty-five meters, the rifle-sized weapons sung them a song of pain. As bolts punched home, flame blasts melted flesh and plasma shots burned holes through bodies. As they reached the ten-metre mark, several flame sprayers fired, letting out a sheet of flames. Cultists screamed as their flesh charred and burned. Even those whom the fire had not caught completely screamed as they discovered the hard way that a flammable caustic agent was used as the fuel of the flame sprayers. The acidic substance ate away flesh and bone just as effectively as the flames. Yet still their quarry came and now moments before they closed, Flamius yelled to his men,

"Templars, hold! Ranks one and two ready...Let's send these bastards back to hell!" A loud roar that shook the ground around them was his men's response.

There was a great silence...then the two sides clashed as a wave of living flesh crashed down on a wall of armour, shields and sharp pointed blades. The fanatics launched themselves forward, frothing at the mouth; some even having bitten their own tongues causing bloody foam to drip from their mouths. The first of the cultists impaled themselves on the pole arms of the second rank. No sooner had they done so the shield bearers dashed them off the weapons, leaving their points ready for the rest of the incoming wave. It was a massacre. The cultists skewered themselves as they came upon the steel grip and deadly accuracy of the second rank. Screams of pain and death were heard as they plunged their weapons into the sea of yielding flesh repeatedly.

Some cultists even managed to sidestep the wall of pole arms, only to face firm shields and shorter sharp weapons stabbing at their vital organs.

In what had been a few minutes, a full half of the cultists had fallen and the rest were now fleeing. Then the first demons struck the line...

It was obvious that even among demons, a sort of hierarchy existed. Although it was primitively proven as the more powerful demon lords were in their place at the rear. It was the smaller, less powerful demons that smashed into the Templar phalanx now. A lot were impaled on the extended pole arms, although a few did manage to avoid being skewered and struck out. Unnaturally sharp claws and teeth-rendered armour and flesh alike and soon Templar blood stained the ground.

Flamius ducked the swipe that would've removed his head. He then put up his shield to avoid another blow. But the demon could come no closer, transfixed as it was on the ends of two pole arms holding it at bay. He lunged forward and stabbed the creature in the heart; it screamed in pain at the mortal wound. The scream became a howl of terror as Flamius recited the incantation of banishment. Just as he finished, the demon's essence parted from its host and was sucked into the sword, leaving only a shattered human carcass to fall to the ground.

With a small respite from the battle, Flamius took stock of the situation as he looked up and down the Templar ranks on either side. Of the forty minor demons that had attacked, only a few still fought on but they were quickly vanquished. Flamius swore they had lost at least one Templar for every demon that fell and it was about to get worse. The phalanx wouldn't hold the larger demons at bay, the smallest was seven feet. Their reach was longer than the extended pole arms of the second rank. They could slaughter both ranks and remain unscathed.

"Break ranks! Break ranks! Squad formations now!" As he said this, the massed ranks broke into individual squads and spread out. The demon lords charged in and were swallowed into the groups of Templar squads. Flamius was aghast to see the damage that had been wrought upon his men by the demons' attack.

Most squads had been lessened by one squad member, some even more. A few squads had been wiped out, one Templar even stood alone as the last member of his squad. There were two squads facing most of the demon lords that attacked. The lone Templar found himself facing a large red-scaled beast that walked on all fours.

The demon known as the Kray-a-koth stalked forward on its four legs approaching its lone Templar prey. It charged forward head down to expose its impressive array of head horns. The lone Templar known as Glacius stood his ground. His weapon — a long-handled two-handed sword that resembled a spear — held up ready to take the charge. The demon came in fast for a creature of its size. As agile as the black panther that his genus was based on, Glacius slipped to the side at the last moment. His spear/sword raked the Kray-a-koths flank leaving a deep wound that bled an acidic black blood. The Kray-a-koth skidded to a halt about ten meters from Glacius as it turned to face him.

The demon was filled with rage at the insult of being wounded by this lone target. It bellowed like an enraged bull and charged in again. This time, instead of standing his ground, Glacius charged in as well. A few feet from the charging demon he leapt into the air. He flipped and twisted his body to land on the creature's shoulders. He then plunged his blade down into the base of its skull severing its spinal column. The Kray-a-koth's front legs went limp and collapsed, its momentum making it slide on the ground, causing a large dirt cloud to plume behind it. Glacius wasted no time. He pushed the blade deeper until it plunged into the ground, effectively pinning it to the ground. He jumped down and came to the wounded demon's side; its breathing was heavy and laboured. He pulled out his fallen sergeant's short sword; the hilt was gold and heavily decorated. He stabbed the sword into its flank, the short blade reaching the heart, and he began the incantation that would banish the demon. He was new at the recently memorised Latin phrase, his sergeant telling him with his dying breath. It was on his third attempt he saw the demon's skin begin to smoke and drift into the air. The smoky essence was drawn into the sword and a human carcass fell to the floor.

Another demon lord had fallen to Flamius' swords, his squad still intact; he scanned the battlefield. It was then he noticed that the cultists seeing their masters join the fray had regrouped.

He pushed a button on his chest plate, "Hulius, attack now!" He watched as two hundred or so cultists ran in coming down on their right in an attempt to flank them. A faint whining sound became apparent, which progressively got louder and louder. The source of that sound soon revealed itself; two squads of Templar cavalry joined the fray. They were mounted on Templar fighter gliders, which was a hover-capable platform that a rider controlled with a combination of foot controls and balance. They swooped in on the rear of the attacking cultists, many of them falling to the underslung blasters that the gliders possessed. The Templar cavalry came in low with their free hands holding their Templar weapons. Heads were severed, throats slit, bodies impaled and twelve dead cultists fell to the ground. Hulius and his group overpassed the cultists and swung around to come again. The cultists broke and ran again rather than face another charge. Hulius' men pursued them, mercilessly shooting down no small number of the fleeing cultists. He and his group broke off the pursuit after only fifty cultists were left running for their lives. The cavalry then joined the attack on the remainder of their demon masters.

The demon lord Seether was a bit of an anomaly amongst demon lords. He was not overly large or strong unlike his brethren. He offset this with other abilities, the most useful of which was his ability to become insubstantial.

Now in his ethereal form swimming three feet underground, no Templar could see him. He approached his intended victim, the leader of this army with the twin swords. He would leap up, become corporeal, slaughter his prey and then disappear underground once again. He prepared himself for the attack, teeth and claws bared, confident his actions went unnoticed by all...he was wrong.

To Menaleus, the battlefield was a host of magnetic fields and electronic signatures. His ability was so refined he could identify friend and foe alike. The demons' electronic signatures were like red lightning; his fellow Templars were bluish-white. Certain individuals stood out like Flamius whose signature was brighter, more vibrant and more dynamic in colour than others. As he went to look away, he caught sight of something, a red lightning signature creeping up on Flamius from behind and underneath him. Realisation came to him and he ran; he ran for all he was worth. Even as he did so he knew he couldn't make it in time. As he continued to run, he touched his communicator channel control on his chest plate. "Hulius, I need a slice and dice run."

"When and where, Menaleus?" came the reply in his ear.

"Seven seconds behind Flamius, mark!" Menaleus answered.

"Onto it!" Hulius responded.

Seether glided closer until he was only six feet away. As Flamius began to walk forward away from him, he attacked. With a burst of speed, he swam forward and leapt out of the ground, his body solidifying as he sailed through the air. A mere moment before he would land on his victim's back and rend it to pieces, he saw his target twitch.

Flamius thrust backwards with his right hand sword aiming high as he heard a mechanical whizzing sound coming from behind him. He felt a weight on the end of his sword blade as a body of flesh impaled itself upon the extended weapon. He turned to face his opponent, pulling back his left hand sword in order to finish off this demonic assassin. As he came face-to-face with the demon, he halted his blow, its eyes were closed and its head hung limply...It was then he noticed he had penetrated its throat with his sword. This, however, had not halted his blow; it was because its body now terminated at the base of its neck. The remainder of its humanoid form lay on the floor flopping about like a freshly caught fish. He looked up to see the source of the whizzing sound as he caught sight of Hulius' departing back as his Templar war axe dripped with fresh demon blood.

"Thanks, Hulius," Flamius said into his comm.

"Not a problem lad, but you should thank Menaleus; he saw your attacker," Hulius responded. Flamius looked down at the demon's body. It had reverted back to its human sacrifice's form as its demonic essence rose into the air. It then sped off to a circular stone seal, which was the gateway back to its realm about twenty feet away.

Flamius turned to see Menaleus approaching, "My thanks to you, brother."

Menaleus merely nodded; Flamius threw himself to the side as Menaleus' spear entered the space his throat had been.

"Menaleus, what the hell..." That was all he got out as Menaleus attacked again; a series of lightning-fast thrusts and lunges, all of which were dodged or parried. Flamius took a few seconds to study his treacherous friend. His eyes were blood shot, the irises and pupils were blood red... Possession he thought to himself. It was then he saw a heat shimmer just over his friend's shoulder. Flamius swung around another lunge and he then dashed forward and turned to face Menaleus' back. He attacked with his right hand sword, aiming for the base of Menaleus' skull.

His left-hand sword was aimed at the base of his spine...

"Shink, shink." The two blades had sunk into flesh and yet they had been stopped about an inch from Menaleus' body.

The parasite demon lord Wraith had a natural cloaking ability. Unlike a chameleon who blends with its environment's colours, this demon's skin actually refracts light in order to become practically invisible. It is only at certain angles its outline — which resembled a heat shimmer — can be seen. It had been this flaw that had alerted Flamius to its whereabouts.

Now seriously wounded in both its upper and lower spine, the demon lost the concentration needed to maintain its ability. No longer invisible, its corpse-grey-scaled hide could now be seen. Nerves were severed and limbs went dead. Its tentacled hands lost their grip on its prey's back and ribs. The tentacled membrane where a mouth should've been fell away limp from the back of Menaleus' skull. Now only held up by Flamius' two swords, he got a good look at it as Menaleus stumbled away from it. It was the size of a grey hound, it had no legs to speak of but a thick serpentine tail on which it could balance, slither and leap with.

The demon Wraith felt no pain; strange, the demon thought, when considering the swords stabbed into its body. It looked on in horror as its former puppet righted himself and then looked at the demon. Its supposed prey's eyes burned with rage.

Wraith heard the Templar holding him shout, "Stick him, Menaleus, he's yours!" Fear gripped the demon as the one called Menaleus roared and rammed his spear into its chest. The spear head smashed through ribs passed through the heart and came out clear through the demon's back. The demon Wraith felt its essence rise from its damaged mortal vessel. It knew it would return back to hell via the gateway. Its followers could resummon it and then it would have its revenge. The demon's essence floated away from its ex-host when suddenly it froze unable to move. It was then Wraith heard the dreaded words of banishment. As it did so, it felt itself dragged back to the blade that proved his undoing.

Menaleus smiled as he felt the haft of his spear grow warm. He turned to Flamius, "Thanks, Flame, I owe you one and I'm sorry for attacking you!" he said as he bowed his head.

"No thanks needed, Meni, if you hadn't saved me first, I wouldn't have been able to do anything ever again."

"That reminds me, how did you..." Menaleus began.

He was interrupted by someone's death scream then that someone landed on the ground at their feet. The corpse slid along the ground kicking up a small cloud of dirt. They both bent down to examine it; it was Templar Narmenius. He had suffered a blow that had opened him up from chest to lower abdomen. A bellow of victory brought their attention to the culprit of the slaying of their brother Templar; the demon lord Kil-Rah. Standing in the middle of a circle of Templars, his two soul-reaving axes raised above his head. The two Templar sergeants both bristled with anger when they heard his bellow of victory.

"Mine!" announced Menaleus, turning to look at Flamius.

"Not if I get there first!" returned Flamius, his form blurring as he sped off.

Menaleus smiled as he bent down to pick up the fallen Templar's weapon. It was a short spear only one-and-a-half meters in length, unlike Menaleus' Templar spear, which was an impressive three meters. He hefted up the short spear, took up a few long running steps and hurled it like an Olympic athlete does a javelin. The spear sailed long and true through the air and with unerring accuracy, the projectile plunged home.

The demon lord Kil-Rah roared in pain and enraged at the spear sticking out of his chest. He tore the offending object out, he then scanned for the offender and spotted the sergeant standing apart from his men. Kil-Rah's large leathery wings snapped open and the demon lord took to the sky. He covered the distance to Menaleus in mere moments but hovered in the air ten meters away from him.

With powerful beats of his wings, the demon lord managed to stay where he was as he bellowed, "You dare, little man, to challenge me alone?"

Menaleus didn't flinch, he stood with his spear at the ready as he responded, "Do I dare? Yes! Alone?" he smiled as he saw a flash of movement behind Kil-Rah. "Not exactly!"

Kil-Rah was confused at the mortal's confidence. He then felt a weight push against his back. Pain ripped into his thoughts and he felt himself fall forward onto the ground.

Flamius had stopped in his head-long rush and turned to look as Kil-Rah swept through the air over his head. He turned to see the demon lord hover in the air not twenty meters away. As it engaged Menaleus in conversation, he saw his chance. He dashed forward and leapt into the air, his feet landed on the small of the demon lord's back. Now in close to his target's back as he allowed his knees to bend, he lashed out with his swords in two circular arcs, severing the wings keeping the demon lord aloft. He pushed off Kil-Rah's back as he plummeted to the ground.

Kil-Rah pushed himself back up slowly; he turned to see who had attacked him but no one stood behind him anymore. When he turned to see the Templar whom he had been speaking to, he saw that he was no longer alone. Another stood with him; they were in some form of pose. His memory flashed a word in his mind 'a phalanx.'

As they circled Kil-Rah, Flamius stood at the fore with his vambrace shield activated and one of his swords in his other hand. Behind him stood Menaleus, his spear extended over his brother Templar's shoulder aimed at Kil-Rah's chest.

They didn't flinch as Kil-Rah spoke to them in a hideously chilling voice, "How noble using ancient and outdated fighting techniques; it is a shame you're not too honourable about facing me one on one..."

"You guilted our grandmaster's squad into giving their lives away last time when there is no such honour to be had against your kind!" Flamius said, cutting him short.

Then Menaleus added with a smirk, "Besides, when one deals with vermin, one does so practically and efficiently!"

Kil-Rah roared and screamed, his deep base voice booming across the battlefield, "I'll show you who is vermin!" He swung in with his right hand axe; Flamius blocked it by throwing his shoulder and weight behind it so he wouldn't get thrown back by the powerful blow. He held his ground; before Kil-Rah could bring his left hand into play, Menaleus thrust his spear into the demon lord's left shoulder. Kil-Rah stumbled back as the wide spear head slid in and out cleanly from his shoulder. He leapt forward with both axes thundering down; both were blocked haft against haft as Menaleus raised his spear. Though they were held at bay, even Menaleus' prodigious strength was being tested and began to fade. The axes inched down slowly toward his head.

The pressure suddenly eased as Flamius dashed forward and plunged his sword into Kil-Rah's stomach, bowing him down. Flamius quickly stepped up onto one of Kil-Rah's huge knees and leapt over his shoulder, planting a back heel kick into the back of his head. Kil-Rah stumbled forward and tripped as Menaleus sidestepped him and swiped at the closest leg with the thick haft of his spear.

The demon lord went down on both knees, exposed to both Templars for the final thrust, but he was not so easily undone. He swung one axe at Menaleus, the flat of the blade swatting him off his feet. He spun and lashed out with the other where he sensed Flamius was standing.

Flamius ducked the blow that would have decapitated him but couldn't recover in time to avoid a kick to his chest that sent him sprawling. Flamius looked up, expecting to see Kil-Rah standing over him to finish him off. After a few moments had passed uneventfully, he jumped up to see what had become of his adversary. He saw Kil-Rah now standing above a prone Menaleus; his right hand axe raised for the coup-de-grace. Flamius drew his second sword and dashed forward. He moved at a blistering speed; the axe had fallen barely an inch as he prepared to parry the blow. He saw the trap a microsecond before it was sprung as Kil-Rah's body twisted and the left hand axe swept in at him.

Still on the move, Flamius flipped over the axe, his head mere inches above its blade. His own sword arm swept down while still in the air. His momentum added to the power behind the demon lord's strike allowed his blade to pass all the way through Kil-Rah's thick wrist.

Kil-Rah howled in pain, which turned into a snarl as he left Menaleus alone and turned to face Flamius. Flamius didn't have time to celebrate as Kil-Rah came in swinging impossibly fast for a being his size. Even with only one weapon hand, the beast kept Flamius on the defensive, his blows falling like thunder bolts.

Kil-Rah barked an evil laugh as he saw Flamius' struggles to avoid his blows weaken and slow. A slow dodge from Flamius left a good-sized rend in one of his shoulder guards.

"How does it feel knowing you're about to die, little Templar?" gloated Kil-Rah.

"You should be asking yourself the same question, demon!" a voice shouted from behind him. Kil-Rah turned in time to see Menaleus, with his spear held high in both hands, lunge forward with all his strength. The spear head plunged into his chest, bursting through his rib and into his corrupt heart.

Menaleus began to shout the incantation of banishment, but as he reached halfway through it, he stopped abruptly. Kil-Rah's large hand free of its axe had reached out and grabbed his throat. As he tightened his grip, Kil-Rah could feel the strength fading from Menaleus. Though the wound he suffered was sapping his own strength, he still had enough to crush the Templar in his hand. Kil-Rah looked up as he saw a shadow flit over his head but all he saw was a blurred form.

Flamius flipped and twisted through the air, to land agilely onto the thick haft of the spear. Flamius spun in a kneeling position with his sword held in both hands. He lashed out with all his strength; the sword cut a brutal horizontal arc through the air. The grip on Menaleus' throat loosened as a small red line showed on Kil-Rahs neck, which travelled along until it went from one side to the other.

Flamius somersaulted over the demon lord's head, seizing the hair sprouting out from the top of the helm he wore. There was a fleshy peeling sound as Flamius' momentum and weight conspired to pull the demon lord's head off. With a final crack of vertebrae that hadn't been completely severed, the head came loose.

Flamius stood there with the grizzly trophy in his hand as Kil-Rah's body collapsed to the ground. Such was the power of his foe that even though his essence had fled his body, it maintained its monstrous form. Now having the time to look, Flamius studied the battlefield to see all the surviving Templars looking at him. All the demons and cultists that had attacked the centre of the field were dead but at a high cost. From his estimate, another fifteen Templars had fallen. Nearly sixty in total had died in battle.

Flamius unleashed a roar into the sky; it was echoed by the remaining Templars, creating a wall of sound that travelled across the battlefield. He held the demon lord's severed head up high and screamed, "Dark one, your champion is vanquished once again!" Again, a roar ripped through the battlefield, only it wasn't his fellow Templars. This time the sky lit up with red lightning, the thunder was deafening. It sounded as if the sky and all of its clouds were being torn apart by the furious maelstrom.

In a slight pause, Flamius heard Menaleus' voice, "Uhh Flame..." It was then to his horror he noticed that he was standing on the stone seal. One of the gateways to hell itself lay right beneath his feet.

Red lightning lit up the sky once more; Flamius looked up as bolts of red lightning speared down onto the earth. Too late did he realise that one of these javelins of pure energy forked toward him. There was an explosion of light and then all was dark for Flamius.

It felt as if he were floating but not rising up. He finally managed to open his eyes and gasped at what he saw. He stood on the stone seal although his feet levitated a few inches above the ground. What had shocked him though is that he could also see himself lying prostrate on the ground, Menaleus leaning down by his side. His friend was checking his vitals as he said, "He's still alive!"

Flamius shouted to get any of the Templars around his body's attention, but to no avail. Flamius gasped once again as he reached out to Menaleus and his hand passed right through him and saw Menaleus shiver.

He then saw Menaleus touch a button on his chest plate as he said, "Attention, all Templars, attention, Templar Sergeant Flamius is down. He is alive but incapacitated. I repeat, he is alive but incapacitated. This is Sergeant Menaleus, I will be taking command of the centre formation, Menaleus out."

Flamius watched as Menaleus ordered two Templars to carry his body back to the medical post. He followed them; a little uncertain about the situation. As soon as his feet hit the edge of the gateway's seal, he was pushed back by some unseen force. Again, he tried and again he was pushed back, it appeared there was some sort of field surrounding the stone seal.

"Only one way to go, my friend." A man suddenly appeared before him; he was a plain looking man at first glance. Medium height, medium build, scraggly black hair hung down to his shoulders. Flamius then noticed his eyes were slit like a cat and his whole body was slightly transparent.

"Which way is that?" Flamius asked this mysterious figure.

"You can't stay here...You need to let go, surrender yourself so you can move onto the next world."

"But I'm not dead."

"You are in a coma, Flamius, if you awaken your soul will be drawn back to your body. If you stay, you'll be easy pickings for the next demon to be summoned through this gate."

"OK, OK, I'll do it. How is it done?" agreed Flamius.

"Just take my hand and close your eyes," the man said, holding out his hand. Flamius followed his orders and he felt a weird sinking sensation. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was no longer solid but transparent; he could see through his own body. He gasped as he looked down at his hand, for the hand holding his was no longer human. It was a huge hand of a dark reddish hue. As his eyes travelled up the arm, he knew straight away who it was. He looked into the balls of fire that were the demon lord Kil-Rah's eyes and saw in them the hatred and the burning desire to tear him apart.

Even as he struggled to get free of his captor's grip, Flamius heard, "Let us go, Flamius, my boss is waiting for you and after he deals with me for this failed venture, I will personally torture you for an eternity for all the pain you caused me!" Flamius remained silent, his head bowed in sorrow, even as they sank through the floor of the gateway into what he knew would be the depths of hell.

Flamius had been wrong though, not all of the demon lords had been vanquished. The demon lord Skal-Ra decided not to join his brothers and sisters. He led his hell hounds not to the tough centre, but to the sweet limbed and soft-skinned Templar children on the right flank. The heretical military men had been decimated, the young Templars had mercilessly cut them down with waves of fire power. Resistance still existed amongst the military men; mostly small squads hunkering down behind cover, snapping off the occasional shot but enough to keep the youths behind the barricade protecting them. Skal-Ra and his hounds charged through the storm unleashed by the Templar young. Bullets and plasma bolts impacted harmlessly on their unnatural hides, like rain pattering on a rooftop.

The first two hounds broke into a faster run, moments later, as they reached the barricade; they leapt at the students. Their teeth bared for young Templar throats, consumed by their hunger they didn't hear the whining sound of motor engines. The Templar glider swooped into the side of the first hound, his spear plunging into the hound's side. Ribs parted and broke as the spear head point drove through the hound's heart and out the other side. The slain hound became an instant deadweight and dragged the Templar from his glider. As he fell and landed heavily onto the ground, the riderless glider slammed into the second hound.

Both hound and glider disappeared in an explosion of fire, as the glider's engines were ruptured by one of the hound's many horns. All that remained of the collision was the Hell Hound's smoking hind quarters, which plummeted to the ground.

The fallen Templar knocked unconscious by the bad landing lay still, not too far from Skal-Ra and his two remaining hounds. Disgusted and disappointed at the easy defeat of the first two hounds, he sent his last two forward. They stopped at the fallen Templar to sniff him out; one opened its jaws wide enough to encompass the Templar's entire head.

The jaws never closed, those terrible teeth didn't cut through flesh or crush bones as both hounds backed up. Skal-Ra saw an armoured figure leap over the barricade and approach him; a large two-handed sword grasped in his hands.

The demon lord recognised this Templar instantly; in the last hell incursion, he saw this man and his squad being slaughtered by the mighty Kil-Rah. "Tyriusss," he said with a smile that displayed all his sharply pointed teeth and lengthy incisors.

When Tyrius didn't respond, he continued, "I'm going to enjoy watching my hounds tear you apart, old man!" he looked down at the two hounds. "Kill him!" he ordered them.

The two hounds stalked forward, eyeing Tyrius carefully, almost fearful after witnessing the demise of their two canine brothers. Skal-Ra growled in frustration as he brought his hand back with a whip of pure energy appearing in its grasp.

"I said kill him!" he shouted as he lashed out, both hounds yelped as they each received a lash that left dark, burnt and blistering scars on their backs. Tyrius noticed they bore similar scars that had healed over and an idea formed in his mind.

"Sit," he ordered in a commanding but soft voice. He smiled as the two Hell Hounds actually sat at his command.

"Well they're obedient, I'll give you that much, Hound Master," he mocked Skal-Ra and followed it with a hearty chuckle.

Skal-Ra bristled with rage, "Useless pair of runts!" he screamed as he lashed out with the whip again but it was blocked before it could land. The whip wrapped itself around Tyrius' sword blade, who then dragged down on it. Skal-Ra snarled in anger at the burnt and blistering scar on the palm of his hand as the whip was ripped out of his grasp.

"Heel," commanded Tyrius and the large hounds moved to either side of him and turned to face their former master as their new one patted the rough ridges of their scaly heads.

"My, my, they are loyal, aren't they?" Tyrius teased.

Skal-Ra screamed in frustration as he raised his hands and two balls of energy appeared in them. They were sent shooting down at his former pets as he spat out his barbed tongue, which sped at Tyrius' face. Tyrius batted the tongue aside but the energy balls travelled so fast not even Tyrius could hope to block them... He needn't have bothered. Both hounds stood up, inhaled deeply and breathed out. From the hound on his right, a cloud of flames emanated from its maw to engulf the energy ball. The other hound's mouth unleashed a cloud of icy mist; the energy ball froze and shattered as it fell to the ground.

Skal-Ra raised both hand's palms up to create a small field of energy as Tyrius leapt in with an overhead blow. The sword rebounded off the field and Tyrius dashed past him.

Without bothering to turn and face Tyrius, Skal-Ra gloated, "Ha ha ha, you have to be faster than that to beat me, old man!"

As he made to turn around, his right leg gave way and Skal-Ra was brought down on his right knee. So quick and fluid was Tyrius' second blow, the demon lord had neither seen nor felt it.

Skal-Ra knew he was undone when he felt the tip of Tyrius' sword touch his back. "Fine then!" he said, accepting his fate and added defiantly, "Banish me if you will!"

Tyrius started to chuckle as he noticed that red lightning still lit the skies and struck the ground.

"You would like that, wouldn't you? The Dark One didn't give permission for this invasion, did he? You'd rather face imprisonment than certain death at his hands!"

Skal-Ra was now visibly shaking with fear; Tyrius was, of course, correct, the Dark One hadn't known and would punish all involved. He stopped shaking as he heard Tyrius say, "I've decided to be merciful!"

Skal-Ra smiled; he would be banished into the sword and be safe from his master. Who knows, he might be able to escape at a later date... He then heard Tyrius whisper into his ear, "As merciful as you were planning to be, when you came to slaughter these children..." The smile disappeared from the demon's face as Tyrius added, "Give my regards to your master!" With that said, he stepped back and lopped off the demon lord's head with one mighty swing of his sword. He watched as the demon's essence rose into the air and dragged to the stone seal gateway at the centre of the battlefield. It clawed at the air as if to slow its passage. A thin reedy voice moaned as the essence was lost from Tyrius' sight.

Tyrius looked into the distance and saw Donis and his group approach a cluster of buildings. He made as if to follow them but was forced back behind cover as the remaining squads of the heretical military forces opened fire on him. There was still a battle to be won; Donis and his squad were on their own for now.

He looked at the hell hounds who were still waiting obediently for his command and oblivious to the bullets pinging off them. What to do with these two? he asked himself. His eyes widened as a change came over them. They shrank in size down to about three-and-a-half feet in height. Scales and horns seemed to disappear from them and their shapes moulded into a recognisable canine species. Now two large but apparently normal Rottweilers sat before him. He pointed to the barricade and said, "Go." They understood and easily loped over the barricade and stayed there now safe from enemy fire. Tyrius spared one more look for Donis and his men.

"God be with you, my sons!" having said that, he joined the Initiates and his hounds behind the barricade.
CHAPTER 17

# The Final Confrontation

Donis and his remaining men stood before the building they suspected housed the elusive leader of this invasion. Multi-hued lights flashed in the windows as a thick mist seeped out from anywhere it could. Donis wrenched open the door and out wafted a thick cloud of colour-filled smoke. It blew right into their faces. All except Donis still wore their respirators so only he could detect a chemical tang to the surrounding cloud. As his nasal cavities tested the air, they detected the presence of several narcotics. It took his body a few seconds to adjust to the hazardous environment. It also released its own chemical mix that would retard the effects the narcotics would have.

They entered the hazy environment, which they discovered emanated from braziers hung at intervals along the walls of the hall they had just entered.

As the hall expanded into a larger room, the mist had almost dissipated to nothing and they could make out something at the far end. As they stalked closer with their weapons at the ready, the mist cleared and they froze at what they saw.

It appeared to be some sort of pulley system and at one end hung Mara. She was bloodied and bruised; obviously, whatever fight she had been in had not gone her way. Her hands and feet were bound and she was held to the pulley via a rope wrapped around her chest. Below her was a wide hole, it was lit up with an orange light and emanated a heat haze as if it contained a hot fire.

The uncomfortable look on Mara's face confirmed this but Donis then saw something that made his heart stop.

Surrounding the hole was a pentagram with five candles at each point. It wasn't a hole at all, it was a portal to hell. Small and temporary it had just been summoned. This was affirmed when a large dark-scaled hand reached out of it, falling short of Mara's dangling feet. Donis breathed a sigh of relief; the portal was too small for a demon to reach far, let alone come through. But it was just large enough for Mara to fall into if she were lowered down into it.

Donis' sigh of relief was followed by a sharp intake of breath as he realised that the hand that had reached through was corporeal. The magic that had created the portal was also allowing a demon onto earth without a host body. This was no novice's spell; this was the work of someone deeply well versed in the dark arts.

It was then his gaze followed the line of rope from above Mara to the other side of the pulley system, where it was held in one hand by a somewhat familiar figure...

"Sheridan?" Donis asked.

"Not exactly!"

Even before his voice boomed across the room, they could tell the young cocky lawyer was no longer in possession of his body. He had changed; his body now bulked more in muscle than the soft-bodied lawyer ever had. It was well formed, a warrior-borne physique. His topless body was pale almost to the point of being alabaster white but it gave off an almost aura-like light blue glow. But it was his eyes that caught all their attention. They were icy pools of light that looked like they could pierce your body right to your very soul.

Once again, the being's voice boomed out, "Welcome, Captain Donis, so nice of you to come. I've been expecting you," it announced in an almost courteous manner.

"Well it would have been rude, Kavouris..."

The being smiled at the mention of his name. "Considering all the trouble you went to arrange a meeting!" Donis responded with clear sarcasm in his voice.

Kavouris' smile disappeared.

"You could not possibly imagine how irksome it is to think that after all the alliances and bribes I made, that you came here on your own accord," Kavouris added with a sneer.

"Your little invasion is over, Kavouris, your allies are destroyed and your army is routed!" Donis announced triumphantly.

"Invasion?" Kavouris queried with a chuckle. "Well that would be the case if it were my intention to invade!"

"You don't want to invade?" Donis asked, now uncertain and a little confused by his enemy's latest statement.

"Don't you think that if I wanted to invade I would have used more than that rabble out there, which was so easily defeated?"

Kavouris' face split into a grin as he continued, "Besides, I have what I want now." Kavouris' finger shot out at Donis. "Without the rest of the Templar army to back you up."

"Well that was one hell of a rouse, not to mention sacrifice," challenged Donis, still not convinced.

"What do I care for demon-worshipping scum?" Kavouris responded, brushing off the challenge.

"A bit ironic coming from a demon, who only has scum to worship it!"

At first, Kavouris didn't respond, he just continued to smile at Donis. After a few moments he spoke, "My need was great given my previous failed attempts. Lo-an-Gorg underestimated you greatly and it cost him dearly."

"That fool vampire Stragnos was so consumed by his desire for revenge he tried to kill you! Yet you still managed to turn the tables on him."

"Then there was the old necromancer... Well, I really didn't foresee him running afoul an alien vigilante."

"There was the kidnapping of your lady friend here; you managed to find her and wipe out almost my entire coven. But still it was so nice of her to bring herself back into my clutches!" As Kavouris laughed, Mara looked to Donis, anguish clear on her face as she mouthed the words, 'I'm sorry.'

Kavouris continued, "Finally, we have Titus and this little sham of an invasion. What a disappointment he turned out to be. What with all those demonic powers Kil-Rah gave him? Not to mention all that false ambition he had after I told him about 'the Devil's secret.'

Donis exploded as he shouted, "You evil son of a bitch! You lied to him, you let him damn himself for nothing! There is no devil's secret!" The rage could be heard clearly in his voice.

Kavouris raised his hand as if to halt Donis' accusations, "Oh no, you misunderstand, there is a devil's secret! It was Titus' high ambitions that failed him. I mean, who did he think he was? The new leader of the underworld? Please, it was a jest of momentous proportions"

Though Titus had betrayed them, his intentions had been good. Despite his hatred of his fallen brother, Donis wouldn't suffer this demon insulting him and made to step forward with his sword raised. But he stopped as Kavouris moved his hand a little and Mara dropped lower so now the grasping hands were caressing the bottom of her feet. Then she was yanked back up out of reach.

"So now, Captain, we're going to play a little game. You're going to walk over here and toss your sword to my feet. Otherwise, the young lady will die." He jiggled the rope to emphasise his point.

Seeing no other immediate option, Donis raised his hands above his head. "Alright, alright!" he said with defeat sounding clearly in voice.

When Donis was only ten feet away, his men saw him grimace and clutch at his side where Titus must have hit him. They watched as his hand traversed around to his back. Perhaps Titus had injured their leader more than they had thought. As his hand pulled away, they noticed something while his hand moved from his side to his back. He had inconspicuously slid his pistol holster along the belt from which it hung.

As his hand grasped the pistol's grip, his men questioned the sanity behind his actions. The Templar pistol is a powerful weapon, more than adequate of killing a human being with one shot. But against this being of supernatural powers, it would barely cause a flesh wound.

Swift as lightning, Donis whipped his body into action, his sword arm swung down. The sword spun through the air to plunge into Kavouris' chest. The blow sent him flying off his feet and as a consequence, he lost his grip on the rope. Mara began to drop; it was at this point in time his pistol arm snapped up and fired. But it was not aimed at Kavouris as his men had thought originally.

A single bolt of dazzling energy lanced across the room and flashed by just missing Mara's ankle. So close in fact that it partially hit the rope binding Mara's ankles together. The heat from the blast burned the rope, which frayed until it parted, as did Mara's legs just as her feet reached ground level. Her feet plonked onto the ground on either side of the portal. As if sensing the closer proximity of her feet, the grasping hands renewed their attempts with greater vigor.

As she made to back away from the hole, a dark green scaled hand shot out and grabbed her ankle. An energy blast impacted on the hand. More shock than actual pain made the demon let go of Mara's ankle. Before she knew it, Donis was there. He didn't waste time on words; he simply grabbed her in both hands and threw her across the room.

Mara, with her arms and legs flailing, sailed through the air into the arms of the waiting Daedelis who put her down and turned her around to slash her bonds.

She could now see what Donis was doing. As he ran past the portal, he pulled out two small fragmentation grenades the size of table tennis balls. He depressed a button on each of them and dropped them into the portal. Just as they passed ground level, he kicked over some of the candles disrupting the pentagram that held it open. There was a muffled explosion followed by some inhuman screams that were cut short as the link between the two realms was broken.

Donis found himself in the centre of the room as he turned to face where Kavouris had landed, but saw no sign of him.

A whisper of movement alerted him to his enemy's position before he heard a soft voice say, "Donis." He turned as quickly as he could to be met by a heavily loaded hook punch that spun Donis off his feet and skidding along the floor until he hit one of the walls. He was visibly stunned by the powerful blow and he propped himself up against the wall and watched as the rest of his men engaged this most powerful foe.

The fight was not going well; in fact, it looked hopeless as the Grey Templars attacked. Rictus, Daedelis and Brackis all came in at the same time, a little hesitant and cowed by how easily their leader had been floored.

With Donis' sword held negligently in one hand, Kavouris faced his opponents. He dodged Daedelis' side kick, ducked under Brackis' hook punch. He came back up and attacked so fast his opponents hardly saw any of it. An overhead punch hammered Brackis off his feet. A spinning back fist nailed Daedelis in the face and sent him sprawling. Continuing his spin, Kavouris slipped to the side, avoiding Rictus as he came in with a running front kick. Kavouris then grabbed the outstretched leg's foot by its booted heel and gave it an almighty heave. Rictus' legs shot off the ground and he was flipped over to land flat on his stomach. As he tried to stand back up, Rictus felt a bare foot come to lay on the back of his neck and he knew it was over. Kavouris cackled as he raised his foot to crush Rictus' neck.

"The first to die!" he announced just before he heard an almighty roar. Daedelis came in with a low tackle, making Kavouris stagger back a few steps. Kavouris then centered himself and regained his balance, grabbing the now bowed Daedelis by his shoulder guards and ramming his knee into his chest. He did it once, twice, on the third time Daedelis roared again, this time in pain. Ribs broke as his chest plate armour was dented in by the harsh blows. Still maintaining a grip on Daedelis' shoulder guards, Kavouris pivoted on the spot. With what seemed like little effort, he hurled Daedelis across the room to smack concussively into the wall, which Donis leaned against and slid to the floor unconscious.

Brackis came sprinting in, his glaive held high. The blade smashed into the concreted ground and Brackis lifted himself into the air. He lashed out with both feet at Kavouris' chest. But he sailed through the air as his target was suddenly no longer there, then he felt pain.

Kavouris had bolted to the side to avoid the attack; he then smashed a powerful open-palmed strike to Brackis' sternum. Brackis lost his grip on his planted glaive and flew across the room to land heavily on the ground where he lay still.

A whistling of air was all the warning Kavouris needed, as he ducked and Rictus' blow flew over his head. With his arm still too weak to use his heavy two-handed sword, Rictus had now armed himself only with a large combat knife. It hissed as it swished through the air. Rictus attacked with a flurry of blows but to no avail as Kavouris either dodged, weaved or ducked them. After ducking a rather desperate swipe at his head, Kavouris came up with an uppercut that smashed Rictus off his feet. Rictus flew up into the air to land several feet away; all the consciousness driven out of him by the nasty blow.

Kavouris stood at the centre of the room, his hands now placed upon his hips. "Is this the best you can muster?" His head dipped back as a deep throaty laugh emanated from him, which soon turned into a scream of pain. Distracted by his own mirth, he failed to notice that Mara had collected her sword from where it had fallen. She swept past and he looked down at the deep six inch gash across his mid-section.

The blood that seeped from the open wound flowed slowly, almost sluggishly. Then it stopped flowing altogether and it started being drawn back into the wound, almost as if it were caught in a vacuum of some sort. After all the blood had returned, the wound began to seal itself back up, until no sign of injury was left.

He chuckled and flashed a smile at her that possessed neither friendliness nor mirth. He brandished Donis' sword and swept it around in a few arcs as if trying to take the weapon's measure, before he stalked his way to her.

As he approached, Mara had her hooked short sword up and ready, saying to herself, OK, I can do this, I can do this.

Kavouris dashed forward and with a quick swipe, the blade of her hook sword snapped and twirled across the room.

Then again maybe not!

Kavouris attacked with blistering speed, his swordsmanship was astonishing and yet Mara still lived. He was playing with her, allowing her to live when he could have killed her with his first strike. He prodded, he feinted and he held back killing blows to increase the suspense and her fear.

But as Mara tired, his blows started to connect lightly but painfully. Seeming to lose interest in prolonging the inevitable, he drew back his sword arm for the killing blow, knowing this lent Mara last-minute energy borne of desperation.

She twisted her torso as he lunged the sword's smooth side sliding along her flat stomach. It was followed by a quick spinning kick that forced her to bend backwards, her athletic body performing an almost ninety-degree back bend. It wasn't until she did this that she realised her mistake.

He had set her up into a position where she couldn't avoid the final blow. As he finished the kick, he brought the sword down aiming for her now exposed neck. Time seemed to slow down as it had when Donis and she fell from her apartment's rooftop. Only this time she wasn't realising she was falling in love; this time she was realising she was going to die.

As the blade came down toward her slender neck, she cast her eyes to her left to see the man she loved one last time.

But Donis was no longer slumped against the wall.

A blur of motion behind and to the left of Kavouris indicated to her where he was. Donis came in with a jumping front kick, a scissor-like blow that connected under Kavouris' sword hand. As soon as he landed, he unleashed a powerful side kick to Kavouris' solar plexus, which merely propelled him back only a few feet.

Donis caught the sword just as it came back down whilst Mara drew her two large throwing knives. They worked in tandem covering each other; when one attacked the other would cover and then follow up with an attack of their own. It was a good tactic that kept Kavouris on the defensive and as Donis knew, you could only defend for so long.

A howl of victory rent the air as Donis' blade wiped across his opponent's throat. As Kavouris staggered back clutching his throat, Mara seized the opportunity. She cast both of her throwing knives at their wounded adversary. Kavouris did nothing but smile as the two shiny streaks of light flew at him.

At the last moment, Kavouris removed his hands from his throat to reveal an already sealed wound. His hands flicked out to catch the oncoming projectiles with ease. Fast as lightning, Kavouris flipped the blades and sent them hurtling back at her. One flashed for her eye, the other for her stomach. A cruel combination that would have her writhing in absolute pain until she finally expired.

Donis, however, was prepared; he smote the one aiming for her stomach but such was the power behind the throw it unfortunately deflected into her thigh. Mara screamed as at least two inches of blade plunged home. Her scream cut off as she stared at the second blade, which had been stopped mere millimetres from her eye. Donis' bionic arm had snaked out to snatch the other knife out of the air.

Mara stumbled to her left as Donis shoved her to avoid Kavouris as he came in with a front kick. Now standing between them, Kavouris drew his arm back, cocked and ready to drive his fist into the bowed-down Mara. But he felt two hands grip his arm and wrench him to the side as Donis performed a hip roll throw, sending Kavouris crashing to the ground.

Not to be deterred though, Kavouris came straight back at them with his arm raised in order to hammer it down onto the back of Mara's neck and finish her. Once again, Donis intervened as he ducked in front of Mara, crossed his hands at the wrists raised himself up and caught Kavouris' blow halfway down.

With a snarl of frustration, Kavouris grabbed Donis' shoulder guards and rammed his knee into him. A sharp hook punch to the side of Donis' head spilled him over to his right.

As Donis lay on the ground, Kavouris picked up Mara by the sheer strength of one arm. His hand held her neck as his thumb pressed against her throat and Mara began to fade...

Without looking at Donis, Kavouris said to him, "Oh, Donis, I think you might want to watch this!" He smiled as he added, "You won't get another chance to watch the light fade from her eyes!"

He looked at the barely conscious Mara as if directing his question to her, "What do you think? Will he put up more of a fight after he watches you die? Or will he just give it up?"

Kavouris turned as he heard his voice in a soft whisper; when he looked at Donis, his smile went flat. Donis was on his knees, his sword in his left hand, his Templar pistol in his right and aimed. But it was not pointed at Kavouris; the barrel lay against Donis' own temple.

"Release her or else," Donis warned in a barely audible voice.

"Or else what, mortal?" Kavouris challenged already knowing the answer. "I'll pull the trigger and you lose your chance at using me as your vessel!"

"Do it then, I'll just take one of your men!" shot back Kavouris.

As Donis' finger tightened its grip on the trigger that would end his life, he saw Kavouris gulp and he smiled, "No you can't, it was 'me' who you sent your men after. It was my girl who you arranged to have kidnapped and ravaged in order to goad 'me' into coming to you. It is 'my men' and not 'me' who are the true Templars and are uncompromising with all evil."

Donis took a deep breath as he continued. "Whereas I have already proven that I am weak and a most recent example of that weakness is at this present moment dangling from your hand. By championing her cause... By allowing her to live... By allowing my feelings for her to influence my judgement, I damned myself."

Kavouris smiled and for the first time there was no mockery in it as he bowed his head respectively, laying Mara on the ground in front of him and said, "You truly are a remarkable mortal, Donis, the perfect subject for my resurrection. So now I am going to do something against my better judgement. I will tell you the truth. You are quite correct in that you possess the qualities that I require in order to complete a transformation that will bond my essence with your flesh."

He stopped for a moment to let what he had said sink in and then continued. "But you are wrong in saying that it was weakness that drew me to you; it was not weakness but nobility. I need the ritual not to possess an unwilling candidate but for another reason. I can possess any man at will without any effort really unless their soul is not their own..."

Donis looked confused, "I don't understand what you mean."

"You say this young lady is proof you are not a true Templar? That may be but she is also the reason I could not possess you at will or with a ritual. Your love for each other has bonded your souls effectively shielding you from me possessing you. That is why I tried to have her killed, to weaken that bond so I would be able to use a ritual to overcome the weakened bond. But you have thwarted my efforts time and time again."

Donis' fist tightened on his sword, but Kavouris took no notice as he continued. "Now to your thinking you are lesser than your brothers. The type of person I require for my true resurrection is one who is noble of spirit, or in other words, a champion. Who better than the man who passed the trial of champions? Where even the tester applauded your efforts, Tempus wasn't it?"

"You saw that? That's impossible; Humanity's Haven is surrounded by wards that keep out demonic entities including their scrying and sight spells!" Donis blurted out in disbelief.

"Which tells you what?" Kavouris asked.

"That you are not demonic...What the hell are you?"

Kavouris smiled and merely said, "Something much better! Unless I miss my guess, your lady has minutes to live with that leg wound so unless you can get help to her, I will be able to use the ritual to possess you soon."

Donis said nothing; he dashed forward with his sword raised...

## Revelations

At that moment on the Persephone, Father Harkon was reading a particular paragraph. "And so on that fateful day, two more of the celestial had fallen. Kavouris and Rylous for their crimes were cast down from the kingdom of God to earthly grounds. Blackened were their wings as a sign of their fallen status. Blue, their angelic eyes remained as a hope for redemption..." Now he read the piece he had shown Donis previously.

Harkon looked up in horror as he said, "My God, they have no idea!" He jumped up and ran to the communications compartment as his wrist communicator couldn't make the distance from the orbiting position.

Entering the communications room, he addressed the Templar at the control console. "Comms officer, can you make contact with Captain Donis, it's an emergency!"

"Immediately, Father!" the Templar responded as he switched to Donis' group frequency. "This is strike cruiser Persephone calling Captain Donis, come in, Captain Donis." All that answered his hail was a wash of static.

"Sorry, Father, there appears to be a lot of interference wherever Donis and his men are," the Templar announced and Harkon's heart sank.

"Wait, Pellos' comm is still receptive." The comms officer repeated his hail. Instead of static, there was an audible click followed by a dead silence.

"More interference?" asked Harkon.

"No, Father, that click was Pellos switching his communicator off," responded the Templar.

Hmmm why would Pellos turn his communicator off? Harkon asked himself.

## The Hunter and the Hunted

Damn! Pellos thought as he switched his communicator off, wincing in pain as he did. His hearing had just cleared up and then his communicator blared to life in his ears.

As he stood in the dark and dank warehouse Valtais had gone into, his keen hearing was the only sense of real use in locating his quarry now. He heard a small clicking sound that ominously sounded like an armour-piercing plasma cartridge being loaded into a sniper rifle. Pellos burst into a run and dove just as a blast lanced the air above his head. He rolled and landed behind some packing crates, safe for the time being.

Damn! he thought again, he needed to find Valtais' position but he couldn't do that while trying to avoid being nailed. Another 'click' and he sighed; Valtais had reloaded. He had been lucky to dodge the first shot but knew the second wouldn't miss. He looked down at the ground in resignation. It would be only a matter of time before the sharp-eyed Templar got him. Then he saw something that renewed his hope and he smiled.

Valtais also smiled as he watched from his perch, which was located on a platform suspended high in the three-storey warehouse.

He saw Pellos for the second time run into the open; Valtais shook his head in disappointment. Pellos should have known that the first chance was his last. He put the rifle's scope to his eye and he aimed where Pellos would dive when he'd hear the shot fired. His finger pressed on the trigger and the rifle fired.

But the shot didn't hit its mark; in fact, Pellos was not even in the scope's sight. Valtais shifted the scope down and saw Pellos on one knee, his pistol in both hands aimed right at him, the scope's lense flaring as the pistol fired.

It had been as Pellos had looked down in resignation that he happened upon Valtais' position. A professional sniper, Valtais had set up perfectly. It was dark and his position could not be illuminated by any of the few existing windows. Since the closest one was several feet away, and because the window was facing due east, light from the sun giving his position away this time in the afternoon was highly improbable.

Unfortunately for Valtais, improbable did not mean it could never happen. How could he have known that a red burst of lightning would flare brightly outside? Not only did it flare brightly, it hit the window at the correct angle to illuminate his position. It cast a shadow on the ground, betraying his position for but a moment, but that moment was all that Pellos needed.

The first shot impacted on the sniper rifle blowing it apart, the second glanced off Valtais' shoulder guard and the third smacked right into his chest. It rocked him back; crouched as he was, he lost his balance and Valtais fell. A three-storey drop wasn't a long trip; in fact, it only took a second before "Wham!" he hit the ground hard.

Valtais got back onto his feet slowly and a little shaken only to find Pellos waiting for him with his swords out and ready. He approached his opponent as he himself brandished his own weapons, two half moon axes that were once one.

They circled one another and after a moment, they charged. Both were fast and exceptionally dexterous. After trading a few blows, they broke off and circled once again.

Pellos came in with a twin blow to Valtais' head. Valtais trapped the swords within the hooked ends of both his axes and then dragged them down. Pellos struggled fiercely as his blades were forced down lower; now with his guard down his upper body was exposed to attack.

Thinking quickly, he allowed his arms to go limp; the lack of his resistance to Valtais' efforts caused Valtais to overbalance and fall forward. He was met halfway as Pellos thrust his head forward and butted him in the face. The crown of Pellos' head broke Valtais' nose who then backed away as his eyes closed in pain. Valtais shook his head as if to ward off the pain shooting through his face.

Valtais quickly opened his eyes to look at his opponent, an act that saved his life as he managed to duck the blow that would have decapitated him. He then lashed out with the points of his axes digging into either side of Pellos' right leg armour. Valtais then levelled a front kick at Pellos' chest while at the same time dragging back on his axes. Pellos' legs shot out from underneath him and landed heavily on his back.

Valtais raised his axes as he said, "Die well, my brother, enjoy the fires of hell!" He leapt forward and lowered himself down as he planted both feet on either side of Pellos' mid-section and the blades flashed down.

Pellos managed to just get his swords up in time to block the blow, halting the axe points inches from his face. He then sent a kick arcing toward Valtais' lower back, which propelled him forward over Pellos.

Valtais stumbled into a large crate, the impact making him drop his left-hand axe. Valtais felt a presence right behind him and he knew Pellos had regained his footing. Just as he estimated where Pellos' head would be, he quickly lashed out. There was the sound of a blade sinking into something and Valtais froze just as he realised it was metal parting flesh.

The hook axe was out hanging mere centimetres from Pellos' face. Pellos' left-hand short sword was buried in the haft of the axe holding it away from his face.

It was when Valtais looked down that he found the source of the sound of flesh being parted. Pellos' right-hand sword was lodged into his chest just below the breast bone and the protection of his chest plate. He fell forward and slumped limply onto Pellos. He then felt a hand grip the back of his head and yank it back.

Valtais looked into eyes that blazed with fury as Pellos spoke, "It seems that I will not be entertaining the fires of hell quite yet. But I take heart in knowing that you will be there to greet me when I do...Farewell, my brother!"

Without another word, he rammed the sword as hard as he could into Valtais. The blade pierced his lungs and then his heart, and with a final gasp of his last stolen breath of air, Valtais died. Pellos gathered his weapons and resheathed them and was then off. He knew where the others were, he just hoped he wasn't too late for the vanquishing...

## The End Cometh

Donis circled Kavouris who remained still on the spot only rotating in order to face Donis. Mara was off to the side after Kavouris had set her down. Donis became a blur as he dashed forward and once more became a shadow as he charged Kavouris.

The first blow slashed through Kavouris' mid-section as Donis swept past. A second skated along the lower back as he turned to face his foe's back. The third cut a deep furrow into the forehead as his opponent turned to face him.

Donis paused as he noticed that once again, the blood flowed reluctantly and the wounds sealed themselves. He also noticed that Kavouris' movements were slower and more sluggish; hope renewed in his heart as he charged back in.

Donis was practically on fire, such was his speed. He dodged to the side of a right-hand blow of his opponent and sent riposte that cut into the bicep of the extended arm. He then spun low as Kavouris followed up with a left-hand blow, this time sweeping his sword deep into Kavouris' mid-section just below the ribcage. Now facing his opponent's back, Donis gripped his sword with both hands and delivered a bone-crushing blow to the spine.

Kavouris arched his back as he howled in agony. It was the first sound of acknowledging pain the creature had made, but there was no more time to contemplate this as Kavouris spun around and lashed out. Donis flipped over the attack, twisting in the air. As he landed, he sent a powerful blow thundering down on Kavouris' shoulder.

The snapping of bones underneath the broken flesh brought another howl from this pain wracked supernatural being. Kavouris turned in time to be met by a reverse slash that ripped up his chest, leaving a deep gaping wound in it. This was followed by a front kick that sent him stumbling back with his arms flailing.

Donis cocked his sword arm, his Holy Templar sword held high, light glinting off its sharp enchanted blade edge. Without any words, he lunged forward, the sword heading for Kavouris' heart.

Blood exploded from the terrible wound...

Donis then fell to his knees, his sword clattering to the floor as he reached up and felt the warm tide of his own blood seeping from the wound in the side of his neck. He pressed his hand against it, trying to stem the bleeding.

Donis replayed the last few seconds that had felled him. As he had lunged, Kavouris had slipped to the side and sliced his hand into his neck, his fingers cutting into flesh with ease.

Donis looked up at his victorious opponent as he heard his sword being picked up. He knew now Kavouris had only been toying with him, giving him hope where there was none. He now noticed all the fiends' wounds had healed and he moved without all the sluggishness he displayed as they fought. Donis felt himself being raised slightly as Kavouris gripped his chest plate.

Donis then heard Kavouris start to chant in a low droning voice using a familiar language; it was Latin. A language he himself had used to dispossess demons of their vessel bodies was now being used to steal and possess his body.

He used what was left of his strength to listen as he could understand some of it.

"...with this ritual, I will bind your flesh with my spirit. The physical and spiritual shall bind! The physical and spiritual shall bind! The physical and spiritual shall bind! They shall be bound with your blood and my blood."

As Kavouris chanted, the blade grew brighter as if some inner light were shining from within it. Without any other words, he raised the sword, the tip aimed at Donis' chest with Kavouris' own blood dripping from it.

Strangely, all was silent at this moment for Donis. That is until he heard a tapping sound as if someone were running very fast and very lightly on their feet.

Pellos had entered just as his leader fell and now was running fast, so fast his feet barely touched the ground. He was now only ten metres away from them but instead of slowing down he seemed to pick up even more speed. At five metres away, he ran up the wall close to their right in an arc.

At the apex of the arc, he was just behind Kavouris. He then pushed off the wall in a flip with his speed carrying him over Kavouris. As he passed over Kavouris' head, his hands shot out and grasped the hilt of the sword just below the hand guard. The combination of speed and gravity conspired to rip the sword right out of Kavouris' supernaturally strong grip.

Pellos landed facing Kavouris with the sword now held at the ready in his hand. Kavouris stalked toward Pellos. Until now, Kavouris' mood had seemed playful, almost casually friendly. But now his bright blue eyes shone like beacons, clearly displaying all the pure, unadulterated fury and hatred he felt toward the foolish mortal that had interrupted his ritual.

Mara's eyes snapped open and she looked over at the still ensuing combat. To her horror, she saw that Donis was no longer fighting Kavouris. He was now on his knees, blood flowing through the hand clasping the side of his neck. Mara saw also that only a few feet away from her dying lover was Kavouris approaching Pellos while the Templar just backed up. Her vision started to fade and suddenly darkness engulfed her as she passed out again. The last thing she saw was Donis struggling back onto his feet.

Donis was drowning in a sea of pain. Titus aside, never before had an enemy hurt him this badly. He shook uncontrollably as he tried to stand. He managed to get one foot beneath himself and push up.

Although he used all his strength, he slowly rose and hissed as a new wave of pain hit him. Blood started to trickle from his mouth. With his extensive knowledge of anatomy, Donis knew things weren't good; he'd lost quite a bit of blood and his vision was starting to blur. Kavouris had missed the main arteries like the carotid or the jugular. Donis knew this because he was still alive. He turned to face Kavouris' back and stumbled forward. His movements were stilted and jerky as he made his way to his target that stood a few metres away.

Pellos felt unsure of himself as his opponent stood before him with his hands at its sides and all his fellow Templars strewn around the room. What could I possibly do? he thought to himself; this being had put down his squad and their leader. He only had a glimpse of Donis when he ran in and that was enough for him to see he wasn't in a good way.

No! Pellos thought as he stopped backing up and raised the sword, sinking low for the fight to come. If Donis was dead or dying, then he would be damned if he let this thing get away with it.

Karvouris smiled as if he could read his mind and heard the conflicting emotions in Pellos. The powerful being now stood over him and smiled as it clenched its fists with loud cracking sound emanating from them. His body then tensed as if about to attack. But then Kavouris arched his back and screamed as he was lifted off the ground.

Donis had staggered up behind Kavouris and wrapped his arms around him. His hands grasped one another on the other side, completing the bear hug. He then jerked back so hard that he could hear the nauseating crack of crushed vertebrae over the sound of Kavouris screaming as his spine was crushed.

Kavouris went limp in his arms; Donis knew it was only temporary. Even now he could feel Kavouris start to struggle. He also heard the odd crack and grinding as his unnatural opponent's spine realigned and repaired itself. He could feel his arms being slowly pulled apart; they would have to act now or never.

"Do it!" he screamed at Pellos, "Do it now!"

Pellos didn't hesitate; he rose up and plunged the Templar sword into Kavouris' chest. Kavouris struggled to get the blade out, but Donis held firm. Pellos said the Latin incantation of banishment.

Smoke drifted from Kavouris' body and as it became transparent, another form became clearer. The smaller and less muscular form of the heretic Maxwell Sheridan could be seen in the midst of Kavouris' fading essence. The essence finally detached itself from its host's body and flowed into the sword.

All that now remained was Sheridan transfixed on the sword in Pellos' hands. The mortally wounded man was barely alive; kept from death a few moments more only by the insignificant amount of lingering energy left by Kavouris.

"Sheridan, it's over! I hope you burn in hell, you evil little maggot," Pellos said to him in low tones that dripped with poisonous hatred.

With his last vestiges of life left in his body, Sheridan looked up and spat at Pellos, which sent a gobbet of blood splattering onto his chest plate. Sheridan reared his head back and screamed an ear-piercing howl as two hands appeared on either side of his body level with the sword. Pellos' eyes widened as there was an explosion of blood and half of Sheridan went one way and the other half went the other as his body was torn in half. All he saw where the heretic had been standing was Donis heaving with heavy gasps for air.

"Now it's over!" was all Donis said as he looked down.

So shocked was Pellos by the sheer brutality of Sheridan's demise, Pellos only noticed now that the sword held in his hands was sticking out of Donis' chest plate.

Pellos let go of the sword as Donis sank to his knees and fell back. He opened his mouth as if speaking, but no sound came out as he just stared blankly at the ceiling. Finally, his mouth remained still and he closed his eyes.

# Epilogue

They all stood solemnly outside in the hospital ward cafeteria. Pellos had tears in his eyes; he had been one of the last to see Donis awake before he had slipped into a deep sleep.

The guilt of being the one who had struck the blow that had felled his captain was almost unbearable. Even Michelle's comforting could not erase or even lessen it.

He replayed the scene in his mind over and over again.

Donis had been passing in and out of consciousness too frequently to speak to in the ambulance. Only he and Mara were able to fit in the ambulance as it travelled along to their destination. Finally, they stopped outside a hospital that had a closed-off ward that was designed to cater for Templars wounded too grievously to heal without help.

Donis remained unconscious until he was in a bed in the recovery room after his wounds had been seen to as best as they could. Various tubes, machines and needles were attached to him.

Pellos held onto one hand and Rictus the other on either side of him as if holding onto his very life force, while Mara stood at the end of the bed staring at her lover's face. The others waited outside as the staff would allow no more into the room.

For only a few moments did Donis open his eyes as he lay on the bed. Seeing him awake, Pellos said, "Forgive me, my Captain, my friend."

Followed by Rictus saying, "We're here for you, brother, always." Donis squeezed their hands, his blue eyes bright with tears. His eyes started to flutter as if he couldn't keep them open any longer.

Both Templars moved aside so Mara could get to his side. But as she made it to his side and opened her mouth, his eyes finally closed. She froze for a moment in dismay for missing her opportunity. Then she caressed his face as she whispered, "I will be waiting for you when you next awaken, my love."

Now they all sat in silence, all staring into space, all thinking their own thoughts about the situation. They were all brought out of their revelries by the arrival of Father Luis Harkon, who had been talking to the doctors responsible for Donis' care.

They all looked at him expectantly.

He took a deep breath before he spoke, "Donis has fallen into a coma, the doctors have done all they can. The healing nano-machines inside him can handle the neck wound but the chest wound was especially grievous; they're not sure even a Templar could even survive such a wound."

Pellos bowed his head in grief at this as Rictus stepped up to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Harkon continued, "But I have faith. If anyone could it would be Donis but..." he faltered..."He may never wake up from his coma."

Mara had been standing when the news had been delivered, but Michelle caught her as she fell and hugged her as she sobbed into her shoulder.

As the two women stood there, Harkon drew the others away from them. "Tell me everything that happened. The Order wishes for my report on what occurred during my absence." He could see they were exhausted and beaten, but orders were orders. Pellos sighed and stretched himself on a bench and closed his eyes.

"What's to say, Padre? Kavouris had planned it all along; he wanted Donis as his human vessel and we played right into his hands." Pellos' voice broke but he got it under control as he continued. "To have Donis, he needed to perform a ritual but he failed. Even still we were all beaten and injured. If Donis hadn't held him up, I wouldn't have been able to banish him!" his voice was thick with emotion and came close to breaking again.

Harkon's eyes widened. When he did speak, his voice was low and stuttering. "Y...Yo...You banished him? Ho...How?"

Rictus answered, "How we always do it!"

Harkon turned away. He was shaking as he spoke, "No, this cannot be happening. It's not possible! Why?"

Rictus starting to get irritated, grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "Padre, what the hell is the matter with you? We banished him just like every other demon and right now he is residing inside Donis' sword for all eternity!"

"No, you don't understand! Kavouris wasn't a demon! We made a mistake with interpreting the translation. It said, 'I am he who is damned by his Lord and Master...It is I who has the eyes of an angel and the heart of a demon...' Now we assumed this meant that he was a demon with bright blue eyes..."

Pellos' eyes snapped open when he heard that.

"...but after reading a few more sources on his background and seeing a picture drawn of him by a survivor of one of his massacres, he looked human, a beautiful human with black feathered wings and bright blue eyes. He wasn't damned by the devil, he was damned by God because he was a fallen angel! Evil yes, but still a celestial being and therefore could not be banished!" Harkon finished in near hysteria.

"Then if we didn't banish him, where is he?" Rictus asked.

"I don't know, I don't know!" answered an exasperated Harkon.

"What do you think, Pel?" asked Rictus. Pellos was not listening; he was thinking back to those last few moments with Donis as tears fell from his blue eyes.

"Blue eyes!" he said aloud, surging up quickly into a sitting position and repeated, "Blue eyes!" He was looking in Rictus' direction, but his eyes were unfocused.

"What are you going on about, man?" asked Rictus, seizing his shoulders. Pellos' eyes focused on him then as he said, "Donis has brown eyes!"

"Yeah so..." Then he stopped as if something had occurred to him. He shared a look with Pellos as if an understanding had come between them.

Without another word, both were sprinting down the hallway. They ran as hard as they ever had with the others just behind them following in confusion.

As they raced toward the recovery room, Kavouris' eyes snapped opened. He smiled when he saw he was alone except for a nurse who was checking charts and had her back to him. The tubes and IV needles all lifted out of his body where they lightly fell to the ground and he rose from the bed ever so silently. She did not even hear him get up or move toward her, she did not know until his hand fell upon her shoulder...

Pellos had reached down the hall when he heard a blood-curdling scream. When he and the others entered the room, they froze at the scene that lay before them.

The nurse with her clothing ripped, torn and bloody was whimpering in pain, standing against the wall with her arms extended out to either side of her. It was then they noticed that her hands were bleeding. She had been nailed to the wall. Pellos and Daedelis quickly got her down and she passed out as she was pulled off the wall. Meanwhile, the others were mesmerised by the message scrawled in her blood on the same wall that she had been pinned to, it said...

' _This is only the beginning!'_

To be continued in Book II The Grey Templars: Tale of a Torturer.

#  Acknowledgements  
and Contact

## Acknowledgements

There are a few people I would like to thank; firstly, my friends at 93 Made Games for supporting me. Jacqueline for always believing in me, even at the times I did not. Nicholas for always being honest with me. Karen for being there for me to talk to. To Sean and Stefanie for editing. Lastly to my wife Lucia for being my inspiration to do better in life.

Book Cover Art credited to: SelfPubBookCovers.com/LittleHippieMama

## Contact

Contact the Author and have your say or ask any questions you may have. You can reach me on my email condosa2001@gmail.comand I will attempt to get back to you as soon as possible.
