Episode 2 (part 1): She's crazy

It wasn't worth it. The pendant around my neck feels like ice when the brisk wind hits my chest. I decided to repurpose my jacket today and now I'm shivering like I had once did eight years ago beside my mothers corpse. I had just grown into the once large snow leopard coat but it had taken too much of a beating over the years so I had strategized a new garment to wear for battle. A thick coat of coral soot and aspen clay envelops my short, stocky frame. The mixture of the two provided a healing salve that would cover and seal any opened cuts during the fight. I tore the coat into strips and wore it as a loin cloth and a scarf to hold my mask in place. A faint hue escapes from under the coat of protection where my branding is by my waist. The patches of red soot and silver clay acted as an excellent camouflage; paired with my menacing mask, I looked like a demented tiger crafted in the hellish abyss.

The sun fades below the shoreline and the abyssal fog starts to creep into the coast as I stand facing the reef's borders. A small group of survivors stand behind me with their crafted weapons in hand. They are no group of fearsome warriors nor are they wielding weapons as powerful as the ones I possess; but their faith in me is enough to keep their sorry asses out here. I've given up on trying to tell them to run and hide; they are as religious about me as mother was. She didn't turn out so good, and neither will these fools. 

I am here to train, they seem to think my goal is to protect and avenge the people haunted by the ghouls; but I am not my father. They're all such a burden. Well, all of them except for Tito. He reminds me alot of how I was raised escaping the horrors of the abyss; but unlike myself, he has the tenacity of my mother and the cunning of my sister. He's very young to be out here, only twelve, but really all of the coastal survivors are. The "warriors" behind me range from the ages of thirteen to twenty. The average life expectancy out here is around thirty. It would be higher if they weren't so stupid. Gods, I don't know how my father managed to protect all these idiots. I am not my father. I could care less for their praise.

Tito stands close to me, wielding my gun and my mothers short sword. I haven't used them in years, the greatest weapons I possessed were already a part of me. Every part of my body was lethal, each limb an indestructible powerhouse. I put a reassuring hand on Tito as the fog reached our ankles and continued to rise; echoes of the hellspawn creatures invading our ears. His hair was spiked with the red coral soot and he turned to look at me with a maddening grin on his sheepish face. 

Tito: Are ya scared yet?

Damn right I was. I couldn't tell if I was shivering from the cold or the gripping fear in my chest; but to these kids behind me, I was their hero. The promised protector that assumed the role of the legendary vessel Jude Viktor. Fuck them kids man. I have no intention of being someone's legend. My father paid the price of enticing the peak elites and I will not repeat his flaws; but it's nice to lie about my bravery. It helps me believe it too.

Titus: Scared? Don't taunt me lil bro.

I'm less scared for myself as I am of what is about to happen to these poor children. Unlike my father I am not capable of protecting anyone but myself. No matter how much stronger I became, it did not change the outcome. I am no hero. I'm definitely not worthy of these people's praise or faith in me. Tito tilts his head in confusion.

Tito: What's that? I can't hear your muffled voice under that hideous mask, Tyde.

That's the name the coastal people have given me. Dark marine hues scatter across my mask, resembling the waves of the ocean that once inhabited the abyss. I can't believe all that water used to inhabit the abyss where the fog now was. I guess I've grown into my features and I resemble my father too much. None of these kids have seen me without my mask. Even if they tie my actions to my father, I will not have them identify the uncanny resemblance and have the inquisitors snatch me. The name and mask has become a symbol. It serves to protect me from being identified by the inquisitors and to also give strength to the coastal slums. The mask was created from the skull of a hellspawn ox bear. Intricate patterns of tidal waves enshroud the form of the mask. Ox bear's bones are denser than titanium and as tough as diamonds. I knew its tenacity intimately when I slayed the beast. If my bones had not been stronger than theirs, the monstrous ghoul would have crushed me. 

The thick fog has now reached the tips of my two horns on the mask. Only Tito and I can handle the pressure of the fog, because we are vessels enhanced by demons. The band of eager kids behind me that foolishly put their faith in the myth of my power will soon be consumed by the devouring fog if we do not eliminate the threat that causes the fog to rise.

I see the glowing lanterns approaching us from the abyss. Each group of ghouls has a shepherd that leads the hunt. They wear cloaks adorned with bones and the blood of other hellspawn creatures. A makeshift bone flute is used to manipulate the ghouls to do their bidding. Unlike the hellspawn ghouls, the shepherd resembles a more humanoid feature, no one from the coast has seen them leave the fog, therefore nobody knows their true form outside of myths and paintings.

There are several things I have learned about the abyss during my years surviving with my mother and sister as well as the years spent alone now with my powers. First thing to note is how the fog affects us. It burns flesh and deteriorates the lungs of those who are dumb enough to breathe it in. A full year of resisting Lust and multiplying the durability of my lungs was barely enough to keep me alive when in the fog. 

Second thing to note is how the fog interacts with the creatures of the abyss. It is their lifeforce, when battling them in the fog, their strength is two fold. The shepherds never leave the boundaries of the fog and the ghouls retreat to it when they need a second wind; it mildly heals them as well. There is much I do not know about the true nature of the fog but I know the source of it. Beyond what is contained in the abyss, at night the fog level rises along with the numerous glowing lanterns held in the arms of an alpha. 

That is my main goal each time I fight, to eliminate the lanterns. It forces them to retreat and prevents the dumb kids behind me from being eaten away by the fog. Tito is a marked vessel like me. A gash of a claw mark with intricate inscriptions of an ancient language sits right above his brow. It is the branding of the demon of chance. People fear bad luck more than worship good; bad luck is much more common after all. To Tito though, it has been nothing but a series of extraordinary luck that has kept him alive this far. Let's not push his luck though, I have a bad gut feeling about today. Usually I'm right.

I dive head first into the abyss at frightening speed, aiming for the bright lantern burning closest to me. Rage pulses in my veins as my muscles tense and ripple under my skin. This is all for my ultimate goal and purpose, to become stronger and reach my father above the peak elites. After eight years of never yielding to the temptation of lust, my body has been enhanced ninety six times. My skin is as rough as diamond, my bones like titanium, muscles with the strength of quadrillions of men, and every one of my senses tuned to keen perfection. I can hear Tito far behind me pull the trigger of the revolver back and hold his breath for proper aim. The retinas in my eyes shifted shades, allowing my eyes to absorb heat in substitute of light. I could sense the heat outlines of the figures hidden within the veil of fog. 

A polar wolf slammed into me, intercepting my path to the shepherd. These creatures were four times my size and had tremendous strength. Rows of sharp fangs and bloodshot eyes mad with fury matched their frenzy. They had the tenacity of a wolf but the brute power of a polar bear. Despite their comparison in size to me, the gap in strength between us was much greater in my favor. I effortlessly sliced open the abdomen of the enormous beast with my right hand and with a swift maneuver around its tumbling corpse, I continued on my path towards the lantern bearer. These creatures are not more hellish than I am. My movement is beastlike and my methods of combat are no different than a hellspawn ghoul. They have indirectly been my teacher in the art of war for the past eight years, and I have mastered it.

Mix breeds of all horrors were sent in my direction, the ghouls of the abyss did not take kindly to its intruders. I could hear the howls of the shark bats, the slithering of snake owls, and a swarm of lizard wasps closing in on me. The echoes of the flutes orchestrating the attacks on me are starting to drive me mad. Damn bastards. Wait till I get a hold of you.

These ghouls were bred in the depths of hell to devour us above the reef. I was bred within a hell of my own. My hands sliced through the shark bats with no resistance and my kicks left punctures the size of craters on the snake owls. I opened my mouth to munch on some lizard wasps but a flute near me blared loudly, instructing them to back away. I turn my head to the shepherd holding the glowing lantern near my face. An orange hue reflected off of a beautiful pink face. Was I hallucinating? The shepherds always covered every part of themselves, I had never seen one willingly reveal themselves. One miniature red horn protruded out of her forehead and curls of silver hair fell to her shoulders. Two piercing yellow eyes rested under fluttering eyelashes and a finger hovered over her lips. I stepped closer, adjusting my vision to the light, and slowly groped her neck.

Every shepherd deserved death. The dwellers of the abyssal reef never hesitated to commit genocide on the hellcoast. I will happily choke her out if it means returning her to hell where she came from. A quick flicker of her wrist brought a slap across my face. A slap? If she really was a shepherd, her strike would have been meant to be lethal. I leaned in closer till the veil of green fog fizzled to mist and I was inches from her face. 

A long mark traveled from the base of her large eyes down her two rosy cheeks and under her white tunic. A hue matching the color of her eyes emanated from them and the details of the branding resembled a serpent's tail. Her light skin tone dispelled my suspicion of her as a pure reefer. Dark crimson red was the color of the humanoid devils that lived in the abyssal reef. She was a half breed. One that I was familiar with as well. 

With the few friends I have, Dior was the most unique. She was the promised savior from the demon of Lust. The person Lust knew from the abyss that "took care" of the inquisitors those many years ago when everything seemed hopeless turned out to be a half breed alpha. Dior had burrowed her way from the abyss up to the surface and had survived on her own until the demon of Lust made her into a vessel as well. She won't tell me her blessing or curse that she received, as well as her past in the abyss; but over the years she has helped me evade danger countless times so I've learned to trust her. She disapproved of my methods of training and always avoided my hunts so… what the hell is she doing here?

Dior: Let go of me you perv.

I blushed and pulled my hands away from her neck. Thank the gods my mask covered my flustered expression. I awkwardly cleared my throat and scratched the back of my head.

Titus: Sorry, I… didn't expect you here.

Dior: Quiet down, do you have any idea how much your rampage has made us a target? 

Titus: Target? To whom?

Dior: Peak divers. The academy has sent them to retrieve ghouls for the lab. They came in right behind you and have been cleaning up the corpses you've left behind. Senior divers have been impressed with the havoc you've caused and are intrigued to track you down. 

Gods dammit. This is bad. Really, really, bad. While the divers were not as lethal as the inquisitors alone, when banded together they were like ravenous wolves. Hailing from the middle class garrisons of the mountain just below the peaks, divers were the middle men used to extract and attack the dwellers of the abyssal reef. The people of the hellcoast were always caught in the middle and trampled upon. 

I would have liked to do something about it but I wouldn't dare feel confident enough to challenge them now. I am far from where I would like to be in terms of power in comparison to their coordination and battle tactics. Fear struck my heart to the core and I hurriedly grabbed Dior's hand to lead us out of the fog and into safety. 

Dior: What the hell do you think you're doing?

Titus: I uhhhh… thought we were hiding. I'm getting us away from them.

Dior: Who said anything about running? I said keep quiet. We need to utilize the fog for stealth if we want to take them down.

Titus: Take them down? Are you mad? Hell no, let's go before it's too late.

Dior didn't budge, she held firm to my loincloth and glared at me with her pretty eyes. Sheesh, I'm deathly afraid of her much more than the divers. One wrong move and eight years of progress could be reversed. Focus Titus, focus, you need to get to a compromise with this daring women.

Titus: Hey… uhhh we don't really have time to argue. Tell me what you want and I'll get it over with, just please let go of my leopard skin, I don't have anything else on other than mud.

She blushes and reluctantly lets go. Her hand raises to point behind us where the growing sounds of the divers motors could be heard.

Dior: Fetch me some divers. I didn't come all the way out here to run. It's time to avenge the people above us and stop wasting time in the abyss. Let's make our mark on these peakies, fuck do they think they are stepping on our borders?

What the hell was I thinking agreeing to do what she said? This bitch is crazy… but I trust her and she's probably right. That bad gut feeling from earlier is starting to feel really really bad. Why am I always right about the dumbest shit?