Chapter 26
Rain and Fire [2]
The officer turned his head slightly to the right. The rain beat insistently against his face, but he didn't look away.
The charred body from which that thing had emerged. Its mouth was still open.
Amid that blackened mass, his gaze fixed on something: one of the monster's two right arms.
Hanging at an unnatural angle, but still solid. Each drop of water made the cracks sizzle as if they still held hidden embers.
The officer tensed his jaw. He pressed his feet harder against the back and head of the spawn struggling beneath him, ensuring it had no escape.
The creature thrashed, its fingers scratching the deck furiously, and each shake vibrated through the man's leg muscles, who had to balance his weight to avoid being thrown off.
Then, with a calculated movement, he slid his right hand toward his side. His fingers brushed the wet floor before stretching toward the blackened arm.
Every centimeter of that gesture was a gamble: if he lost pressure on the monster, it could break free.
His breathing accelerated.
He kept his other hand braced on his knee, reinforcing the pressure on the body writhing beneath him, and extended his fingers cautiously.
The sound was dry, almost metallic, when his fingers closed around the limb.
CRACK!
The surface of the charred arm gave way slightly under the pressure, shedding dark fragments that mixed with the rain.
The officer squeezed tightly, ensuring it wouldn't slip. The spawn beneath him shook upon feeling the movement, emitting a wet screech that resonated against his back. The man redoubled the pressure of his legs, keeping it pinned to the deck.
With a firm pull, he dragged the scorched limb toward himself. The ship's wood creaked as the dead weight scraped against it, leaving a trail of ash and splinters. The smell of charred flesh mingled with the storm's.
Once he had it close enough, he lifted the charred arm decisively. The limb swung clumsily, rigid in some parts, brittle in others. But what caught his attention most gleamed under the running water: the claws.
Despite the rest of the body being reduced to carbon and fractures, those black, long, curved nails seemed intact. They shone like freshly polished obsidian, relentless.
The officer looked down at the creature trapped under his feet. The monster squirmed, desperate, unaware of what was being prepared.
A flash of resolve crossed the man's face.
"This'll do…" he thought, as his eyes returned to the claw, as if he had just found the weapon he needed.
With his left hand, he sought one of the charred fingers. The surface was rough, fragile, but the claw crowning that bone remained firm, gleaming despite the rain. He closed his fingers around it and pulled.
CRACK!
The sound was harsh, like dry wood splitting. The claw came off more easily than he expected, ripped from the root and leaving a dark hole in the scorched flesh.
The officer immediately released the rest of the arm, which he had been holding with his right hand. The dead weight fell against the deck like a sack of wet sand, and upon impact, it disintegrated into pieces. Black, brittle fragments scattered around, dispersed by the rain like scattered ashes.
For an instant, the officer stared at the ripped claw. Water ran over its black surface, sliding off without dulling it. Unlike the shattered body it came from, this thing seemed incorruptible.
He turned it slowly, testing its balance, then gripped it with both hands. The curved shape fit perfectly in his grasp, rough but firm, as if forged to be used as a weapon.
A different glint ignited in his eyes.
The claw was enormous, more than he had calculated when ripping it out. With a single well-placed slash, it could sever a neck or pierce a torso. His mind measured it silently, and the conclusion sketched itself on his face like a shadow:
"Let's see…" he thought, his eyes darkened by decision.
He advanced with the claw toward the monster's right side, right where a human would have a waist. But this was not human: the gelatinous, charred flesh twisted beneath him, a mess that barely held recognizable proportions.
The officer didn't hesitate. He adjusted his stance, lowered his center of gravity, and held the claw with his right hand, driving its tip into the soaked deck. He kept it vertical, firm as a stake, with the curved edge aimed at the spawn's side.
With his left hand, extended, he traced a wide arc. The movement was slow at first, calculated, like an executioner preparing the blow before delivering it. Every centimeter of the path tensed his muscles further, and the monster perceived it: its convulsions became frantic, trying to break free from the pressure pinning it to the floor.
Lightning tore the sky, illuminating the deck for a blink. The thunderclap shook the air, and in that same instant, the officer unleashed his strength.
His left arm accelerated violently, closing the arc he had prepared. His open palm suddenly glowed, sheathed in a translucent green cube that crackled upon contact with the rain.
The movement was direct: the hand slammed against the base of the claw, right at the end embedded in the planks.
KRAAASH!
The impact thundered like a cannon shot. The wooden deck split under the combined force of the green energy and the claw's edge. Splinters flew in all directions as the improvised stake was torn from the floor.
The claw rose in a brutal impulse, dragged by the blow from the left hand. And before it, mere centimeters away, was flesh.
The edge entered without resistance. A screech tore the air as the monster was split from its side. The claw pierced muscle, tendons, viscera, not stopping even as the creature twisted like a fish out of water.
The officer gritted his teeth and didn't stop the motion. He kept pushing, his arm extended like a moving guillotine, while the claw traced a relentless straight line. The resistance was minimal: everything it encountered was opened, cut, dismembered.
And finally, with a last pull, the claw was held aloft in his left hand. It dripped dark liquid that mixed with the rain.
Beneath him, the creature was no longer one.
It was two.
Two grotesque halves of the same being.
The officer remained seated on what was left of the monster. Despite the clean cut that had split it in two, beneath him he still felt the spasms.
The two halves pulsed, contracted, breathed with an irregular rhythm that seemed to mock logic.
His eyebrows furrowed.
"Is it really… still alive?" he muttered through clenched teeth, incredulous.
The thought turned acidic: "This thing's survivability is ridiculous."
The irony that such a monster kept fighting death wrenched a bitter grimace from him.
The officer raised his left arm. He still held the black claw, heavy, firm in his hand. He lifted it until it was positioned right above the being's convulsing head, pointing like a spear about to finish its prey.
A new lightning bolt tore the sky, and in that instant the claw gleamed under the white light, casting a fleeting flash over the soaked deck.
With a contained cry, he discharged all his weight and strength in a single movement. The claw descended with fury, its edge whistling in the air like a guillotine.
His concentration was absolute. The trajectory was perfect. There was no way to miss… but… despite that fact… something interrupted him.
A memory… no… several memories.
[Körper unconscious and terribly wounded being carried on Hanz's back, entering through the door.]
[When Laios took the six-limbed monster's blow head-on.]
[When Hanz disfigured into that nightmare mass… and how he ended up embedded in the wall.]
The claw trembled in his hands. The black edge, which a second before was heading straight for the creature's skull, stopped centimeters from reaching it.
The officer remained motionless, breathing heavily, his shoulders shaking with the effort of holding back the assault he himself had initiated.
Then, he looked up.
The glow of the burning hall was still there, devouring everything with an insatiable roar. The heat reached his face, dry even under the rain. He stared at it, the edge still held high, while a solemn expression, laden with sadness, formed in his reddened eyes.
The officer looked down at the creature beneath his boots. Still alive. Still resisting, though with only weak convulsions running through its severed remains.
He frowned.
"I'd be wasting material…" he thought, raising his head for a moment, as if that reflection distanced him from the rain and the fire burning behind.
His jaw tightened. As a former adventurer, this would be a mistake. It would be squandering an opportunity.
But upon looking back at the thing beneath him, another idea, more visceral, pierced him: I wouldn't be satisfied just killing it.
With a brusque movement, he removed his feet from the monster's split back and stood up. The being tried to thrash, but barely could, reduced to brittle convulsions.
Standing on the deck, the officer observed it fixedly. Then he flexed both arms, bending his elbows at ninety-degree angles, his posture firm like a perfectly learned ritual.
Then the light returned.
The green crackled in the air and ran along his arms. Rectangles of translucent energy began to appear, overlapping each other like pieces of carved crystal. First they were isolated slabs, then more complex structures, until the accumulation took shape.
In seconds, the officer's arms were enveloped up to the elbows in translucent green gauntlets, solid, compact, radiating a threatening glow under the storm.
The officer adjusted his grip on the black claw. He held it firmly, the edge gleaming in the rain.
Without hesitation, he took a step toward the creature's middle. It stirred weakly, barely conscious of what was happening, but unable to defend itself.
In a rapid, precise sequence, like an executioner, he delivered the edge.
SLISH! SLISH!
The first slash severed an arm, which fell to the ground with a dull thud. The second was equally relentless: the other arm flew off, spinning on itself before crashing against the wet deck.
The two limbs lay to one side, useless, like burnt branches torn from a trunk.
The officer remained upright, breathing heavily, the claw still held high. The glow of the green gauntlets illuminated his clenched fists, and in his gaze there was no hesitation: only cold determination. As he stored the claw inside his shirt.
Now…
With the left gauntlet glowing, he bent down and grabbed the half-monster by what remained of its torso. The creature shuddered weakly, its flaccid arms hanging like wet rags, unable to resist. The officer lifted it with one hand, as if it were a broken doll, and began walking toward the hall's door.
Each step echoed on the soaked deck. The rain beat against the green gauntlets, which crackled as if absorbing energy from the surroundings.
He stopped a few meters from the threshold. There, the memory pierced him: the eight-limbed monster, lurking like a latent threat.
"Good thing it hasn't come out yet…" he muttered through clenched teeth, and took a deep breath before exhaling a long sigh that blended with the storm's roar.
He changed his stance. His left foot stepped forward, planting firmly in the wet wood. The arm holding the creature pulled back along with half his body, tensing all the muscles in his back and shoulders.
A contained grunt erupted from his throat as he spun sharply, reversing his position. And with a dry roar, he hurled the half-monster forward with all the strength of his left arm.
The destroyed body described a clumsy arc in the air and plunged back into the interior of the hall, where the sea of flames and smoke devoured everything it touched.
The impact thundered. The flames closed over the creature like a hungry mouth, and an agonized groan erupted from within before being extinguished in the fire's vortex.
The officer didn't look away until that half had completely disappeared, consumed by the hall's incandescent flames.