Book 2: Chapter 52: An Evil Form

Book 2: Chapter 52: An Evil Form

Inky tendrils spread from the paw that stepped through, so dark that they stood out against the black of night.

A lithe form poured after it. The dog-shaped creature hunched, gathering power in its limbs and revealing a serpent where its tail should be. Two onyx eyes roamed around the gathering, stopping only when they fixed on me. Its gaze narrowed with recognition, and it hunched further, dipping its shoulders as it prepared to strike.

Before it could attack, all hell broke loose.

Pistachio slammed his open claw shut, releasing a sound like two boulders colliding as a blast of deadly force rocketed at the hound. Blue clouds of chi erupted from Snips’s body, propelling her toward the intruder. Corporal Claws launched from the sand with lightning wreathing her limbs. She scooped up Cinnamon and the egg in passing, continuing on the land at a safe distance. Bill took flight, his eyes pinned on the hound. Rocky, both his claws held high above his head, jumped at it, power swelling in the joints of his deadly clackers.

Leroy punched the sand, causing vines to sprout from the ground beneath the dog. Barry shot from the sand, his fist cocked back and ready to deliver violence. The two smiths squatted down as sheets of earth started climbing their legs. Ellis bellowed a single-syllable word I didn’t understand. It seemed to make the surrounding air quiver. Theo snapped his fingers, making a golden light gleam from his entire body.

From the corner of my enhanced vision, I saw the strikes approaching the hound. I turned to watch, my brain unable to keep up with the violence unfolding before my eyes. Pistachio’s shot, Rocky’s dual explosions, Snips’s blue arc of energy, Leroy’s vines, and Barry’s punch struck as one. Each ability and strike traveled right through the hound as its body turned semi-opaque.

Its eyes never left me, and as the attacks passed harmlessly through it, its leg muscles bulged. Without further warning, it launched at me, its teeth bared as it transformed.

***

Just before tearing a portal between realms, the hellhound reflected on the weeks gone since his last visit to the mortal realm.

His body had been almost obliterated by the cultivator’s attack. If the hellhound had been less experienced, he would have assumed that he’d be able to charge through the accidental kick of a mere human. As that bare foot had approached and a thin line of white light extended, however, it drew his attention. The moment it began to expand, he knew the truth of it: that unaspected light promised death.

So, he had grasped at the thin trickle of chi once more flowing through the world, diverting it to cushion his head and torso. His vital points were shielded from the brunt of the blow, but that did nothing to protect the rest of his body. Using the power held within his core, he had torn another portal open to the realm of shadow and slipped through, his shattered limbs and joints thankfully numb. As he crashed to the floor, his consciousness had fled, and when it eventually returned, he found himself alone, the portal having closed as his awareness waned.

The first two weeks had been a haze as he slipped in and out of consciousness, the passage of time marked only by an agonizingly slow reduction of pain. Though power had returned to the world after uncountable years, it wasn’t enough for his body to heal at the rate he was used to. When his last ligament was completely restored and the physical pain was banished, something worse replaced it.

When the gods had fled all those millennia ago, the chi hadn’t followed them immediately. His family—his pack—had one by one left him. With each disappearance, it was like losing a part of himself. Eventually, it was just him and his brother, and then it was just him. The loneliness was indescribable, and with nothing to do while his body healed, he was all too aware of his solitude. Many would rejoice at being awake once more after so long in stasis, especially on finding themselves the lone occupant of a realm as powerful as shadow.

For a pack animal like the hellhound, it was torture.

Even worse was the memory of the creatures and humans that had defeated him. In the mortal realm, where power had historically ruled and all that anyone cared about was themselves, a mishmash of different beings had banded together. In times long gone, it had been his pack hunting down individuals. Somehow, the positions had swapped, and it made his blood boil. Each time he replayed their coordinated attacks, his lip would twitch of its own accord. They even intentionally avoided hurting each other—the least they could have done was take out their rivals and pretend it was an ‘accident’... but no. Their bond was genuine; they were a true pack.

Most egregious of all were the furtive glances they kept shooting back toward the headland. They were directed at his mark—though they came up against a hellhound, a creature that could eviscerate them all given the inclination, they threw themselves at him in unified purpose: the protection of the cultivator he had been sent to kill. This realization was the final straw that broke him and made the hellhound’s fury turn to despair. He longed for that connection—for his family to return. Yet he knew they wouldn’t. Perhaps his brother one day would, but only after more millennia, if at all.

As with his anger, his despair similarly grew to become something else. A profound jealousy took root, and given enough time—of which he had plenty—it bloomed. He loathed those creatures and humans who had cultivated something so rare, so... precious. With a desire—no, a need to once more become part of a pack, the hellhound began forming a plan.

He harnessed the trickle of chi that churned all around him, gathering it within his core. Though he had never torn a portal open without the help of a summon, if he were to enact his plan, it was a necessity. It took weeks to gather the requisite power. Not once did he let his attention waver. When he finally had enough chi, he paused a moment, having second thoughts now that it was time. After expending the chi he’d gathered to open a portal to the mortal realm, he would be left defenseless. There was no retreating, no shielding himself from the death-delivering blows the cultivator could easily deliver. He didn’t have to consider long. Some fates were worse than death, after all.

He channeled the chi, his body trembling beneath the weight of his task. The first line appeared.

Crack.

The portal shook, threatened to close, but he redoubled his efforts.

Crack.

With one last push, the air before him shattered, and he stepped through. After one paw entered, the rest of his body was sucked through the rent in space, and he appeared on the sand before a sea of faces. He scanned them all, and when he found the one he was searching for, his eyes narrowed as a thrill ran through him. He hunched his legs. The creatures—of which there were now even more—attacked. The humans attacked too, and as chi flowed through each and everyone of them, he halted a moment, stunned by their number.

It only hardened his resolve. There were even more of them now, and they held the same fervor in their eyes, the same desperate desire to protect their pack. He went insubstantial so the attacks could flow through him. Then he leaped forward, his eyes never leaving the man he came to find. As he sailed toward him, he scanned the cultivator’s mind for the canine form he found most ferocious; he would need to transform into something intimidating if he were to prove himself worthy of becoming one of them.

When his ability returned a form, he didn’t question the result—his power had never failed him. His body changed shape, becoming that which the cultivator found the most vicious—the most evil—in the entire canine world.

Gary fell to his knees, bowing so his forehead touched the sand.

“I’m so sorry we summoned you, demon. I didn’t know what I was doing—I—“

Gary cut off as Helen dropped down and covered his mouth with one hand.

“Fischer—he’s, uh, just joking?”

I blinked, staring around at everyone.

“Please tell me you guys haven’t been summoning demons.”

Barry held a hand to his heart.

“I swear on my family’s life that we haven’t been summoning demons. Gary talks of the past actions of the Church of the Leviathan,” he said, emphasizing the word past.

“Truth,” Theo added, then shrugged. “For what it’s worth, anyway.”

“Huh. Where is Sebastian, by the way? I just realized I haven’t seen him in ages.”

At the wide-eyed stares and shared glances I got in response, I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh...”

Barry grimaced.

“Let’s just say that summoning demons isn’t good for your health.”

“Damn. He was a little odd, but I didn’t think he was a bad bloke.”

Rocky snorted a hiss—or perhaps hissed a snort?—but then Snips knocked him hard on the carapace to shut him up. Everyone went silent.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna know any more about that.”

"You're... okay?" Barry asked, giving me a kind look. "I thought you'd be a bit more upset."

"I mean, I'm not happy about it, but you just told me he tried to summon a demon. That lands firmly in frack-around-and-find-out territory."

I turned back to the dog, who was apparently said demon, and cocked my head at him.

“Are you trying to join our little gang?”

Despite his terrifying body, he had puppy-dog eyes as he stared up at me. He nodded once, the movement almost unnoticeable.

“All right, mate. If you’re willing to be a good boy, I don’t see why you can’t—” I cut off as a blur of black and white entered my peripheral vision.

All I could do was watch as Warrant Officer Williams, my rambunctious pelican pal, flew parallel to the sand and karate kicked the ever-loving shit out of the nightmare puppy.