The Birth of the New World

“Are… Lain, are you alright?”

I look up towards Nathaniel as he has his hands partially reached out towards me, wavering between touching me or not.

“Ya… I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t look fine. Doesn’t that hurt?”

“It does, but I’m healing. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you ok-

“I’ll be fine, Nathaniel.”

-after killing someone?” He finishes, his voice sounding concerned.

“… I’ll…I’ll need some time… This hair, could you tie it with some string and bring it to Billybilly for me? I don’t think she would be very happy seeing me right now.”

“I don’t think I should leave you alone right now.”

“She won’t be alone. Go, do as she asked. I’ll be with her. In the meantime, gather up the others and prep for the mission.”

I look over towards LC Roberts as he orders Nathaniel. My healing, burned skin, crinkles and cracks as I move, the smell of burned pork coming off of me and making me want to gag.

“Lain, can you walk?”

“Yes, I can sir.”

“Then come with me to my office.”

“Yes sir.” I say as I hand off the hair to Nathaniel.

“Lain…” He tries.

“I’ll be fine, please, bring that to her. Make sure she is treated well.”

“Mhm, ok…”

Ripping off a burned sleeve and pulling off my ruined Kevlar vest, I discard them by the door.

“We should still have a replacement in your size waiting for you. I’ll have a soldier dig it out for you before you go.” My boss says as he sits behind his desk and moves some papers out of the way.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Of course, come, sit down.”

Collapsing into the chair opposite his, I let out a tired breath.

“How are your wounds healing?”

“It won’t be much longer. It honestly looks worse than it is. Mostly just itches now…”

Itching at my arm causes some scabs and small patches of dead skin to fall off.

Yuck… I don’t want to make a mess on his floor… Interesting that my marks still show even if my skin is destroyed. Must not be entirely physical in nature, but I guess that makes sense.

Making some shadow fire in my hand, I look at it curiously for a second before running it over my skin, erasing all the dead skin I can reach.

LC Rodgers watches for a moment, not saying anything until he reaches into his desk’s bottom drawer, pulling out a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

“Here, have some.”

I look at the glass, moving aside my flaming hand from my face. I can only imagine how bad I look right now, with most of my face still in the process of regrowing from burn wounds.

“Thanks, though, alcohol doesn’t really work for me anymore.”

He pours me a glass and pushes it towards me. “Even still, a drink should help.”

“Mhm… Thanks.” I take the glass and slam it back. “Ahhh… Interesting taste.”

“First time having scotch?”

“Yeah, besides my party, I’ve never really drank anything other than beer and wine.” I say as I push the glass forward. He refills it for me and then drinks from his own.

Ach, burn wounds suck. I should really avoid getting lit on fire again…

“How are you feeling?”

“It doesn't hurt anymore. My pain tolerance has been getting stronger recently. Probably related to my-“

“I don’t mean the pain. I know you’re a tough girl. I meant you, after what just happened.”

“I… “

Running my flaming hand through my hair to burn more dead skin away, I try to gather my thoughts. Wetting my lips with a sip from my glass, I continue.

“I just killed a person… Right now, I honestly don’t know how I feel. He and his people are attacking us. They are our enemy and I have to kill them. Regardless of my contract, they are going to kill and eat the people I love if I don’t. But, they are still people… and I honestly don’t know how I feel about that. I need time to, I don’t know, process I guess…”

He nods his head as he listens to me, sipping from his scotch. “That’s normal. Some people panic, some cry, some get mad, some feel nothing, and like you, some don’t know how to feel. It comes back to them later…”

“Have you ever killed a person?”

“Yes, some I’ve killed myself; I am a soldier after all. Most however, were killed through my orders. Drone strikes, ordered strike teams, artillery strikes. I am personally responsible for many deaths, even if they were our enemies. I even have many good soldiers that died under my orders, and I am accountable for them all.”

“The ones you killed, personally?”

“Hmm. Back when I was still just a low-ranking officer, serving overseas. I was in town with my men, standard patrols and peace keeping, letting the people see us work. We were hit in an ambush. Civilians got caught in the crossfire. Their own people caught up in the attack… We were pinned down and taking cover, waiting for reinforcements to come and break us out of there.”

He wets his lips with another sip.

“My first kill. She was a woman strapped with explosives. A suicide bomber... She was running straight for our position. I had no time to hesitate, no chance to deescalate or to try and stop her. I learned later that her vest was remote detonatable. Even if I got her to stop, I wouldn’t have been able to stop the vest from going off. Not that it matters. I had line of sight and was the first to act. In the heat of the moment, I didn’t even have the time to think. So, I acted. Three shots to the chest with my service pistol. Vest exploded right there on the spot, left a small crater in the middle of the street… Reinforcements showed up soon after and got us out of there.”

“How did you handle it afterward?”

“At first, I didn’t feel anything. That was my first conflict, and I was still high on the adrenaline from it all. It wasn’t until later that, once I had some time to think, that it finally hit me. The weight of taking a life. Of killing a woman. I spent hours asking myself about how things could have gone. If I could have saved her. If she was an innocent person, forced into that vest against her will. If we could have avoided that entire confrontation all together.”

I finish my glass, most of the skin on my arms having finished healing by now and my face no longer itching.

“Later, my friends dragged me out of my office and got me drunk enough to turn my brain to slush.” He says with a half shrug and a sip of scotch.

“And that was it? You got over it?”

“No. I never got over it. After waking up with a splitting hangover, I got back to work. And I kept working. Every now and then, I will remember her and have myself a glass of scotch… You still have family, friends, a lover, your therapist. People that you can go to and confide in. You’ll be fine.”

“Mhm… Thank you sir… Although, now I want to go home even more now.”

“Hmhmhm, ah, I’m sorry about that. One of the pains of being a soldier I’m afraid.”

He reaches across the table to pour me some more before topping himself off and closing the bottle. A serious look covering his face with silent resolve.

“Lain, I need to know that you can do this. That you can go out there and do what needs to be done.”

“Haaaaah… I am not comfortable with killing people. But, I am prepared to do it. As many times as I have to if it means keeping my loved ones safe. You don’t have to worry sir.”

He returns a nod, the two of us sitting in silence as we sip at our drinks. After some time, we get a knock at the door. Nathaniel shows up with an escort.

Downing the rest of my drink, I push the glass forward. “Thank for the drink, and the talk, sir. It helped.”

“Good. Smith, you take good care of her out there.”

“Will do sir.”

He directs his attention to the soldier beside Nathaniel. “Find Lain a new Kevlar vest. We should still have one of her spares laying around in the armory. Give them anything they need before they leave.”

“Yes sir.”

“Lain, you take care of yourself out there. I know that you are hard to kill, but it doesn’t mean you should suffer.”

Standing up to go and stand by Nathaniel, I give my boss a smile. “Thank you, sir, you take care of yourself as well.

He simply returns a nod, pulling a file from his desk to get back to work. “That’ll be all. Good luck on your mission.”

Being dismissed, I head out of the room with Nathaniel and the soldier carrying my ruined Kevlar vest that I left by the door.

As we are walking away, Nathaniel bumps my shoulder, getting my attention. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good. Sam and the others are getting ready to go. We’re just waiting on you now.”

“Alright, then let’s get moving. Sooner we finish this up, the better.”

Father

“Father, what’s the matter? Is everything alright?”

“Gov’es has just died.”

Ski sits up from where she was laying on his lap, the scent of earth carried through the air by her hair. “How could this be? He just went out to scout!”

“His connection disappeared. I can no longer feel him…” He stands, his tall and muscular body of blood red skin standing tall over everyone in the room, and barks out, “Fetch me my gear, now. I am going to find who did this!”

As the females in the room run to grab his armor and weapon, a presence fills the room just as they return and are about to help him dress. Everyone is immediately forced to their knees by the weight of it, though he is able to slightly resist and slowly goes down to one knee.

Around the room, the females whisper and talk, “The Gods. The Gods are here!”

Father looks up to the ceiling and demands, “Gods! What is the meaning of this? My son has just died. Do you know anything of this!?”

What he gets in return is the giggling of two children, their voices full of mirth.

//Hmhmhm~ Why yes, Goblin King, we know of what happened.

//Yes, yes, we do little Goblin King. Would you like to know?

“I am the Demon King! Not this other title that you try to give me! Now tell me what happened to my son!”

//Ah, what a silly Goblin. Sister, he is still calling himself that.

//Mhm, yes, he is Brother. Little Goblin, the Crown of the Demon is already being worn by another. Unless you kill the Demon Queen, you shall remain only as the Goblin King. Calling yourself otherwise isn’t going to suddenly make it real. Call yourself a demon all you want, but it won’t be true. Hmhmhm~

//Oh, but he wishes to know of his son. What was his name, Sister?

//Hmm, I don’t remember, but he had a cute dog. I didn’t enjoy watching her die. Made me want to watch something else, right brother?

//Yes Sister, I hate when movies kill the dog.

Father grows angry as they continue to talk and ignore him, shouting up at the ceiling, flames radiating off his body, he demands, “Tell me what happened to my son! What happened to Gov’es!? Tell me Gods!”

//Ah, ah, yes… Brother, you tell him.

//Alright Sister. Goblin King, he died fighting the Demon Queen. Your 'Grey Demon,' as you call her.

As the words enter his mind, his Aura begins to rage around his body. The female in the room back away as fast as they can to avoid getting burned by the growing heat that is melting the concrete at his feet and setting some of the nearby beds of furs ablaze. It is his own self-control alone that is keeping his Aura from cooking everything and everyone around him into ash.

“My gear, now! The time for my revenge has come!”

The twin Gods giggle at this, the Sister speaking up like she is trying to quell a screaming child.

//Now now, Gobling King, there is no need for that. Now is there, Brother?

//No, not at all, Sister. There is no need for him to leave at all.

//Come on Goblin King. All you have to do is stay here and wait.

“Stop speaking riddles and tell me of what you know Gods! Why shouldn’t I leave?!”

//Hmhmhm~ Because she is coming to you silly. Isn’t that right, Brother?

//Mhm, that right, Sister. She is coming to face you herself.

//All you need to do is wait-

//And she will come to you.

“You would have me wait? Why shouldn’t I just meet her in the field? Go out there right now and hunt her down!?”

//Because you will fail.

//You will die.

//And she will destroy everything.

//But if you stay.

//And prepare an ambush.

//Harden your defenses.

//Then you can face her.

//And you can kill her, hmhmhm~

Father growls towards them, his every desire screaming at him to move forward and hunt down his enemy, but he instead speaks through clenched teeth and speaks. “You have yet to lead me astray, yet. If I do this, will my revenge be fulfilled?”

//We are simply giving you the chance.

//That’s right. Whether or not you succeed, is up to you.

//But one thing is for certain.

//If you leave to go and face her now.

//Your death is assured.

…

The presence of the Gods recedes with their final words, the pressure finally letting up and allowing everyone to stand.

Ski walks up nervously to her King and asks, “Father, what should we do?”

“Hhhhhh… We shall follow the Gods’ advise. Move the mothers to another tower and place them under constant guard. I can’t guarantee that this one will remain standing. And dress me in my gear, I shall await my enemy and prepare for battle.”

“Yes Father.” She says with a bow before running of to do as he ordered.

With a push of his will, Father calls out to all his Sons and Daughters that remain in the conquered city, calling for them to gather.

Several of the females return with his armor and busy themselves with dressing him, tying and strapping plates of monster parts onto his body like a living armor of hide and fur, and of claws and spikes. One female works hard at dragging in his newest weapon of choice. A claw from one of the tower-tall giants that had once called this place their domain.

The weapon is longer than Father is tall, and almost as thick. With a handle for griping, burned into the base of the claw’s body, its entire surface burned black. He grabs it with one hand from the struggling female and lifts it with easy, hefting it onto his shoulder.

Fully armed and armored, he sits on his now burned bed of furs, waiting for those summoned to gather for war.

And for his enemy to arrive before him.

Come to me Grey Demon. I shall make you feel the same fear that I felt back then!