Before - Homeworld, Two thousand years ago, After the Burn #5
The demon pulled back, its eyes fixed on her, wide and furious, lips stretching over jagged teeth in something between a snarl and a scream.
“Abomination!” it spat. “You will pay for this!”
Rynna held her ground, blade steady. “Leave the body you’ve possessed and leave this town.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Or I’ll cut you down some more and let them make ropes from your entrails.”
Its teeth flashed, but then, its gaze slid past her, raking over the faces gathered in the street. The snarl died on its throat, and one heavy foot moved backwards in the dirt.
The others weren’t cowering anymore. Their fear had burned off, leaving only anger. Eyes narrowed. Shoulders squared. And hands clenched around whatever tools they’d grabbed in haste—hatchets, hammers, kitchen knives. It wasn’t an army, but they were no longer victims.
Somewhere in the crowd, a man raised his fist. “Kill the bastard!” he shouted, and others took up the cry, voices ragged but loud.
Rynna turned back to the demon, watching as its shoulders sank, the fight bleeding out of its posture.
“Where am I to go?” it finally asked, the words falling flat.
“I don’t give a fuck. You’re lucky I don’t take whatever passes for a soul from your wretched hide.” She pointed her blade at a distant pasture. “What about those goats? You’d fit right in.”
It looked toward the animals, then back at her. “This won’t solve anything. I’ll find your Prophet one way or the other.”
She bared her teeth, pointing at the goats again. This demon wasn’t the first to target Joshua. And it wouldn’t be the last.
“Fine,” it hissed, and the body it held jerked once as the mouth gaped open in a silent plea.
Then, darkness, thick and buzzing like a nest of wasps, poured from his eyes, his mouth, his nose in a writhing stream.
The shadows churned and thickened as they spilled free, spiraling away toward the herd of goats penned at the edge of town.
The animals shrieked, hooves churning the muck, bodies slamming against the pen in blind panic.
The sound chafed down Rynna’s spine, and her stomach contracted.
She let the air go. They didn’t deserve this. Maybe she should’ve just killed the human meat puppet. He’d probably die from losing an arm anyway.
Somewhere behind her, a villager gasped.
The goats had stopped their struggling, and every snout now tipped skyward in eerie unison, eyes gone slick and black as pitch.
Rynna waited, sword ready.
Then, one by one, they turned. The herd shuffled away from the ruined pen, marching in eerie formation as they trudged toward the hills that marked the desert’s edge. Eyes on the horizon, Rynna tracked the mass until the last of the possessed animals had lumbered out of sight.
“Hmmm.” Her heartbeat relaxed, and fingers eased from the sword’s grip, joints cracking as tension bled from her knuckles.
A laugh worked its way up, raw and half-strangled.
I did it.
She slid the golden blade back into its sheath with a soft click.
I saved them.
She tipped her face toward the sun, lips pulling into something close to a smile even as the hairs on the back of her neck prickled.
Ahh. She frowned, knowing what would come next.
Behind her, there was stillness. It wasn’t quiet, but rather a holding of breath. Like that camp thousands of years ago, after she’d killed the giant, and many more since then. The faint scuff of a boot against dirt. A cough, bitten down before it finished.
Slowly, she turned. They watched her now, faces pale, and eyes wide beneath furrowed brows. None of them spoke as their eyes bounced between her and the bloodied ground.
Bodies littered the dirt around them, some broken, some in pieces. Doors hung crooked from their hinges, walls caved in like rotten teeth. And there Rynna stood, untouched among it all, laughing with blood on her face and a sword at her side.
Vampire. The word still echoed in the ruin, spat by the demon before she’d ended it.
Their eyes found her now, heavy with grief, rimmed in disbelief. They knew what she was, and their judgment nearly suffocated her. In answer, the Hunger stirred again, trying to rise. She felt it push against her teeth, slick with the promise of blood.
Swallowing, she forced it down. Not today. Not them.
“Back off.” Rynna raised her voice, cutting through the low murmur rising from the crowd. “I’m not here for trouble.”
But fear never bowed to reason, and pain didn’t listen to words. The people began to inch forward, their faces hardening, grief searching for an outlet.
Damn it. She didn’t want to hurt them, but she sure as shit wasn’t about to let them string her up.
What would Josh do?
She paused at the thought.
That’s it!
Her knees hit the ground, and her hands came together as she lifted her face to the sky.
“Thank you, Joshua, Great Prophet of the Western Sea, for casting out the demon! May he be bound forever to the darkness of hell!” Her voice rang out, carrying across the square.
The crowd halted, hesitation creeping in as confusion slithered into the cracks where anger had lived just moments before.
It was a bluff. A pathetic performance. A mockery of faith from someone who’d spent millennia cursing heaven. But it bought her a heartbeat of time.
Malachi caught on fast, dropping beside her, his hands clasped in a gesture of worship. Even Adam could recognize the danger of the mob turning against them.
“Praise be to God!” He knelt, gesturing to the others from their group who had already spread through the crowd, offering aid to the injured.
And around them, all of Joshua’s followers shuffled in, sank to their knees, and bowed their heads, following Adam’s lead.
He’s going to rub this in for at least a month.
“Praise be to God.” Rynna closed her eyes, holding in the bitter laugh scratching at the back of her throat.
But it was this or bloodshed. Better to fake reverence than give these people the monster they already feared she was. Rynna peeked out from under her lashes, watching as the villagers shifted uneasily from foot to foot, looking around for someone to provide direction.
“I don’t know what happened here.” A wiry old man finally broke from the crowd, cane jabbing forward as he shoved people aside with impatient nudges.
“But we’ve lost too many, and you are outsiders.
” Each prod carved him a narrow path through their uncertainty until he stood where Rynna and her companions knelt.
“Thank you for ending the slaughter…but please, leave.”
“Now see here, my good man.” Adam jumped to his feet, outrage sparking through every line of his posture.
His hand knifed toward Rynna as if to drive his words home with force.
“Our companion just acted as the avenging hand of God Himself! She may be…distasteful… but she saved you all from a hellborn demon. You should be thanking us.”
Rynna rose, catching Adam’s arm before he could wind himself tighter.
“Easy.” She wasn’t about to let his temper catch fire in the wrong direction. “Let it go. People need time to grieve and heal. This is nothing new.”
And it wasn’t. Monsters didn’t get thanked for the blood they chose not to spill.
Malachi stood next, grabbing Adam’s other arm and pulling him back. A quick glance passed between the two men, followed by Adam’s silent signal for the others to stay where they were.
“We meant no harm.” Malachi faced the old man. “Your town has been kind to us. We’re sorry for the pain our presence has caused.” His gaze didn’t waver. “If you’d allow it, we’d like to help make things right. Repair what we can. Tend to the wounded.”
“No.” The elder studied Malachi, his jaw working as if grinding down the words he wanted to say. “You all need to leave. We’ll take care of ourselves, as we always have.”
Malachi inclined his head. “As you wish. We’ll collect our things and be gone.” His hand found Adam’s shoulder, turning him firmly back toward the tavern as he whispered in his ear, “Please, just trust me. We’ll talk about it once we’re on the road.”
Adam gave a reluctant nod and then returned to the tavern, the others trailing after him. Rynna followed, sparing the elder a final nod before crossing the threshold.
Inside, the girl they’d left bleeding on the table now sat upright. Her chest was still streaked with drying blood but bound now in clean, tight bandages. She watched Rynna’s approach with wide, uncertain eyes.
“You’re a tough one, kid.” Malachi moved beside her, giving a crooked grin. “You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”
Rynna smiled, eyes on the stairs leading to her room. The man was a letch, but he was good with kids.
“Thank you.” The words came thin and sure as Rynna passed. And a small, trembling hand lifted to her arm, stopping Rynna in her tracks.
She blinked. “Uhh…” The sound escaped before she could stop it. Words weren’t her strong suit, at least not for things like this. “Sure thing, kid.”
Her hand hovered awkwardly before landing on the girl’s head in an uncertain pat. She gave two quick taps—like knocking on wood—then turned away before the moment stretched too long.
Climbing the stairs, she bit down on the smile threatening to pull at her mouth. It felt foolish. Out of place. But it wouldn’t go.
The girl would make it. So would that woman.
I did that. Didn’t I?
As they gathered beyond the village’s edge, Rynna sat astride Empty Night, the mare pawing at the dirt with restless hooves. Dust curled with each impatient scuff, rising in lazy spirals toward the setting sun. The others clustered nearby, voices pitched low, worry bleeding between their words.
“Where should we go?”
“How will Joshua find us?”
“Should we camp nearby?”
Their eyes drifted to her, waiting. Expectant.
Do they want me to tell them what comes next? She nearly choked on the idea. Surely not.
She coughed, feeling their stares settle on her.