Light of Epertase 01: Legends Reborn Page 2

  Red-hot embers showered the darkness as the torch smashed against the ground. Rasi rolled onto his stunned foe’s chest. The man struggled beneath. Rasi drove fist after fist into his face until all he could hear was bone against bone.

  He looked up from the bloody mess he had caused with short bursts of excited breaths. He sprang to his feet but before he steadied himself another attacker plowed him to the ground. He crashed onto his back, his new foe landing on top of him. He didn’t see the fist until his lip exploded in pain and blood. He clutched the stranger’s wrist with both hands and pivoted his hips to the side. The attacker struggled against his grip but Rasi was too strong. A brutal snap rang out. The stranger wailed, clutching his mangled elbow. Rasi shoved him aside and rolled to his hands and knees.

  He looked up to see the bottom of a military boot rocketing toward his face. Unable to move in time, he braced for the impact. Whiteness flashed behind his eyes followed by the worst headache he’d ever had. He crumbled face-first to the ground.

  What happened?

  The weight of another climbed onto his back. Two thick hands grasped his ears. The soft underside of his neck pulled taut and then his face hurled toward the unforgiving stone floor.

  Rasi’s head screamed with stabbing pain as he opened his eyes. He wondered how long he’d been out. The ground was cold, even through his clothes, and he shivered. He squinted but it only made his head throb more. When he focused to remove the dull film from his eyes, what he saw made him wish he had kept them closed.

  Less than a horse-length away he saw, for the first time, the source of the frail whimpers from before. The light of a torch highlighted the delicateness of her gentle, oval face. Her back lay jammed against a wooden crate and her exposed breasts heaved as she struggled to suck air into her tired lungs. Her tattered blouse dangled from her purple-and-black-stained arm. She stared at Rasi through swollen, innocent eyes that pleaded for his help.

  A pair of muscular hands reached from the shadows and clutched her throat.

  Rasi tried to yell, “You sons of bitches, I’ll kill you,” but barely a whisper emerged. He rolled to his stomach, his movements doing little to help the spinning in his head. He steadied himself.

  Although the voices sounded distant, he knew they were right beside him. “He’s moving again, sir,” one of them said.

  Rasi envisioned himself leaping from the ground and bringing justice upon them, but his body moved like he was stuck in mud. He pushed to his knees. His brain pounded against his skull.

  The voice, the one he somehow recognized, ordered, “Take care of it.”

  Rasi lifted his head in defiant resignation. The young girl stopped struggling. She stared at him as though he were her last hope for life, which he knew in his heart he was. He begged her with his eyes to hold on. She was ready to give up; he wouldn’t let her.

  Get up, he willed his body. A man’s leg appeared between Rasi and the girl’s lifeless gaze. A piece of knotted lumber hung alongside the man’s thigh. Rasi reached out to her, grabbing nothing but air.

  Just let me up. That’s all I need, you b… He swayed and shoved his hand against the ground. He was angry at his body for its failure, for its weakness, and cursed it under his breath.

  The stranger drew the lumber back like he was chopping down a tree. Rasi fought against that damn mud that held him down. The stranger shuffled to the side in search of a better shot.

  Rasi focused on the beaten girl again. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed. In the torches’ flicker, her eyes went blank and Rasi swore that he saw her soul leave her.

  The stranger held the lumber against his shoulder.

  What are you waiting for? Rasi wondered.

  “Well, sir?” the stranger asked. “Now?”

  The hands around the girl’s throat released. Her breasts no longer heaved. Her killer stepped into the light and nodded. Rasi’s stomach sank.

  Elijah? Why?

  “Uhmph!” Rasi’s world went dark.

  CHAPTER 3

  THE RASHTA

  Rasi fought to open his eyes. His head throbbed like in an ever-tightening vise. His entire mouth ached like his teeth had suddenly rotted. He tried to focus. The stale rock walls around him were devastating in their solitude and coldness. Three torches burned with fresh wicks in discolored metal cages along the walls.

  His nostrils burned with the stench of blood and feces and wet dog with each pull of air. Puffs of warm breath from his lungs met the chilled air and hovered like he’d taken a toke from a weed stick.

  A salty wad of goop trickled down his throat, gagging him. Even more spilled onto his chin and he wiped its warmness from his stubble. The torch’s light revealed what he’d feared. Blood.

  He gagged and vomited a dark mass of coagulated blood that choked him with its thickness, making him gag even more.

  Something’s not right. He poked his finger into his throbbing mouth causing 10,000 raw nerves to scream for him to stop. He winced away from his own touch as a realization smashed him in the face like an axe. He prayed he was wrong. He tried to speak. “M ’ong!”

  By the gods. Those bastards cut out my tongue …

  He was stunned, unable to move for a moment. One of the torches rested above his head and once he finally gathered himself, he yanked it free. Though its heat was welcomed, he was more interested in its light. The floor was littered with skulls and ribcages and femurs, some with rotten chunks of meat and maggots still attached.

  His fingers ached from the cold’s frigid bite. He sat up. He wasn’t at the castle anymore, that much he knew.

  Some kind of cave. Or a cell.

  Someone yelled from an opening high above, diverting his attention. “You have been tried and found guilty of the murder and rape of a young woman of Thasula. The great Prince Elijah has sentenced you to death by rashta.”

  Rashta? How far from Thasula did they take me?

  Rasi’s mind shot to his wife, terrified at what she must have heard. I’m coming home, Edonea, he silently vowed. Then he pictured the cold, dead eyes of the young girl he was too weak to save. I’m coming for you, too, Elijah.

  He collapsed to his rear, feeling like his guts had been ripped out. Something jammed against his back and he reached for it. His torch revealed a bone of some type. A femur. A man’s femur.

  He struggled to his feet. A constant rat-a-tat-tat beat in his head and he realized it was his teeth clanging together. He gagged again and coughed up another glob of syrupy goop, which he spat to the dirt. The dark, coagulated blood dangled from his bottom lip like a string before splatting to the ground.

  A deep, wall-shaking growl reverberated from the darkest recess of the cave. Rasi turned his head, fearing what awaited him. He’d heard of the rashta from legends, though had never seen one. He squatted, picked up the intact thighbone, and slammed it against the wall, snapping it into two splintered points. He slid one of them into his waistband.

  Another roar rang out, this time closer and louder. Rasi swiped his forearm across his chin, leaving a trail of smeared gore on his cheek. Show yourself, creature!

  A blood-red tentacle slithered along the floor from the blackness. Then another one emerged, floating slightly above the first.

  Rasi held his torch out with one hand and gripped the ball of his new boneshank with his other. The rashta leaped into the light with a hungry cry. Snot and spit sprayed from its dried-blood-caked, wolf-like snout. Rasi stood to the beast’s chest, staring up at it. Seven tentacles protruded from its back, dancing above the creature like snakes. With each of the beast’s movements, the tentacles snapped like whips and hissed in the air, alive and thirsty.

  The creature lifted its massive front claws with another deafening roar.

  I do not fear you, creature, Rasi thought even as he nervously backed against the cave wall. The creature crouched but hesitated.

  Maybe, Rasi wondered, just maybe it fears me. Maybe …

  The rashta lunged. Rasi dove to the side an
d barely out of range. The creature’s teeth snapped past his head and he felt their wind on his ear. One of the tentacles grabbed his ankle and flung him along the cave floor.

  His back collided with the merciless wall; his torch jarred from his hand. He rolled to his knees, taking in gulps of moldy air. Another meaty tentacle smashed against his cheek, bending him backward onto his own leg. His knee screamed and he squirmed to straighten it. Another tentacle hurled at him. He dropped to his back as it whiffed past his nose. He rolled to his hands and feet. Another attack shot at his head but he dove out of its path.

  The creature sniffed the air and licked its lips. Its tentacles floated above their master, preparing to strike again. Rasi tried to catch his breath as he backed away.

  He didn’t see the blow until the tentacle crashed against his chest. His body smacked against the stone wall and he crumbled to his knees.

  Instinctively, he yanked the bonespike from his waistband as he fell to his back. The creature drove its mammoth claw downward. Rasi closed his eyes while thrusting his bonespike upward. The creature yelped; the weapon sunk into its foot. Rasi twisted his spike with both hands before yanking it free. The rashta, shrieking with pain, scurried back against the wall.

  Rasi hadn’t time to savor the small triumph as one of the tentacles crashed against his side, hurling him across the cave. His weapon slipped from his hand and slid into the shadows. There was another torch above him. He fumbled above his head until his hand met it and he wrenched it from the wall.

  The creature announced its anger with a howl. Rasi’s own anger built to rival it. With a deep breath, he sprinted toward the beast like a wild animal. One of the tentacles swiped at his legs but he leaped over it.

  The rashta stumbled back, shocked at Rasi’s gall. This was the warrior’s chance. He dodged another tentacle attack as he barreled forward. And then another. The assaults were relentless until one of them cracked the side of his head, driving his face into the ground. He felt his skin tear across his cheek. He didn’t stop but instead crawled toward the retreating beast, torch still in hand.

  The rashta raised its front legs again. Rasi shoved the torch against its gut, sending another piercing squeal through the cave. The creature’s scaly, pale skin crackled and blackened at the flame’s touch. It lunged for him.

  Rasi ducked to the side but not nearly fast enough. His left shoulder exploded in pain as the creature’s hot breath beat against his neck. He tried not to give the monster satisfaction but a scream left his lungs just the same. The creature clenched its jaw, sinking its teeth deeper into Rasi’s flesh. Their razor tips scraped along his raw collarbone and shoulder blade. His grip weakened. The torch dropped to the ground. With his other hand, he pried at the creature’s locked jaw but its muscles were too strong, its teeth too deep.

  The creature jerked Rasi from his feet and shook him like a dog would a small prey. The meat and skin of Rasi’s shoulder ripped away from his bone. His arm and chest dripped with red. His stomach turned. His left hand went numb.

  For a moment he was weightless as the creature flung him through the air until his spine and wounded shoulder bashed against the stone wall. He crumbled onto his face.

  It’s over. I’ve lost.

  His shoulder burned with pain that radiated into the side of his neck. He pressed his hand against the wound but blood squirted from between his fingers. A tentacle coiled around his ankle. He had no strength to fight its grip while it dragged him back toward his snarling death.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his torch laying on a pile of bones. As the tentacle dragged him past it, he clutched it with his good arm.

  The creature hoisted him feet-first into the air. The blood from his shoulder flowed like a waterfall, splashing against the stone and dirt floor. One of the tentacles looped around his neck like a noose and tightened. Rasi gasped, unable to feed his thirsty lungs. He focused the last of his strength on the torch dangling from his fingers. It was his last hope. With every bit of air in his lungs, he shoved the flame against the tentacle that was wrapped around his neck. The beast flinched. Rasi thudded to the ground as the tentacle released and retreated to its master. He heaved his torch at the monster’s chest and it shied backward.

  Rasi struggled to lift his injured arm but it weighed a ton. He dug deep to painfully crawl away from the rashta. Two more tentacles curled around his waist. They squeezed out what little air he had left in his lungs. He was weak, no longer able to hold his head up. The tentacles dragged him along the floor like a piece of dead meat.

  The orange blur of his torch antagonized him from just out of his reach. He wanted to give up. And that’s when he saw it, almost screaming, “I’m here for you.” Something better than any treasure he could ever imagine, better than the torch. It was his chance, his salvation – the bonespike. He outstretched his weary arm and touched the weapon’s rough surface with his fingertip. He wanted to smile but hadn’t the strength. The tentacles tightened around his waist as he clenched his fingers around his precious spike.

  The creature lifted him into the air before lowering him toward its snapping razor teeth. Rasi shifted his weight, leaning away from the rotten stink of its breath. He grimaced and squeezed his weapon. He waited until he was at the creature’s lips. It opened its mouth for the killing blow.

  Rasi thrust his weapon upward. The beast wailed. The tentacles released. And Rasi once again slammed to the ground.

  He forced his head up just enough to see the head of his bonespike jutting from the roof of the rashta’s mouth. The beast stumbled back, shaking its head back and forth. One of its tentacles twisted around the exposed part of the weapon and yanked it free, spraying blood like a fountain from the gaping wound. The creature staggered, then crumbled onto its side. Its wail was so profound that it hurt Rasi’s ears. The tentacles flailed above as the rashta seized in a growing river of red.

  Rasi, no longer strong enough to put pressure against his wounded shoulder, let the plasma pool around him and ooze into the dents and cracks along the floor. You may have gotten me, he thought, but I took you as well, you bastard.

  The world faded around him like a view through frosted glass. Please let me stay awake long enough to watch this monster die, he begged the gods. The creature gasped with full-blown spasms until the seizing slowed and the dying, agonal rise and fall of its chest ceased.

  With the creature’s death all but assured, Rasi’s inevitable tomb was now silent. He chuckled to himself, struggling to keep his head awake.

  Through blurry, blood-soaked eyes, he watched the creature’s tentacles continue to stir on their master’s carcass. One by one, they ripped from the creature’s scaly flesh and scurried along the cave floor toward him. He was too weak to fight, too weak to move, too weak to care. They swarmed his body until he was buried beneath their hot flesh. One of them twirled around his injured shoulder and tightened. He winced. Another dug into the muscle on his back, which he was sure would be the last pain he’d ever feel. He welcomed death. Another tentacle burrowed into his back while he lay helpless. He shivered from the cold, despite the tentacles’ radiating heat, while they ripped into the flesh on his back.

  CHAPTER 4

  STRAPS

  So cold.

  Tired.

  The pain seemed to let up a little, or he’d simply become used to it. He forced his swollen eyelids open. The light of the remaining torch on the wall burned through his blurry vision. His fallen foe appeared to move in the shadows, but as Rasi’s eyes cleared he saw it wasn’t the creature who moved but the bristling maggots infesting it.

  Rasi’s shoulder itched deep into his bone. His back tickled with the sensation of thousands of insects crawling beneath his skin.

  How long …? he asked himself. How long have I been out?

  His stomach tightened and rumbled loud enough for him to fear another creature may hear. His every muscle ached like he’d been gnawed by a dragon with dull teeth. He forced himself to sit up b
ut the skin on his back pulled like his flesh was glued to the wall. He fought against the tug, slowly making it to his feet.

  Something darted past the corner of his eye and he spun around. One of the creature’s tentacles hovered near his knees. He glanced upward. Three more of the flat, red strap-like tentacles floated above him. He flinched and threw up his hands to defend his face, but the tentacles didn’t move or attack. He stepped backward. They stayed with him. The skin on his back tore against itself like a freshly sewn wound trying to heal. He peered over his wounded, yet no longer bleeding, shoulder and followed the straps of meat with his eyes to where they met his own back.

  Oh, gods.

  The straps were melded with his skin the same way his fingers were to his hands or his legs to his hips. He took a step and they floated with him. He counted: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, all equally a part of him.

  Nausea replaced the hunger in his stomach. Panic rose in his chest. His breathing quickened. He told himself to remain calm, but his mind raced to the worse. I’ve become a freak.

  He staggered to the fallen creature, his new appendages hovering behind. As though they had read his mind, they wrapped around their former master’s leg and ripped it away from its body. Some of the maggots fell from the decaying flesh; the others continued their feast. With a dull thud, the straps dropped the leg at Rasi’s feet like a gift.

  He wasted no time brushing some of the maggots away before tearing off a batch of scales. The meat was still warm when he sunk his teeth into it. More maggots, the ones he had missed, crawled through his mouth and against the mutilation that was his tongue. He didn’t care.

  The torch on the wall had burned down to mere flickers, the other two extinguished. He grabbed the one from the wall, careful not to snuff its delicate light. The meat and the writhing maggots blackened in its dull flame. In his haste to feed on the carcass, he burned his lips and let out a painful moan, but the taste was worth the blisters. The straps danced in the air, invigorated by their feast.