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Edgar’s face has been half torn away from below his nose down, stripped of all flesh. His teeth are bare. I observe carefully until I see a faint breath pull at his chest.
All reason tells me there’s no fucking way he’s still alive. But he is, and I find that more tragic.
I turn to look for the rest of them and my gaze lands on Edgar’s fallen comrades. Something odd pulls inside my chest. It reminds me painfully of my own comrades who died just as terribly.
These students are maybe a year older than Edgar, and yet they fought so bravely. Their bodies lie still in the dim light. I don’t need to approach them to find out if they are dead. Two are cut cleanly in half, while the others… They are mere skeletons, dark, burned flesh still clinging to the bones.
The crisping sounds of burning flesh and bubbling blood ceases as I shut them out. I let Velis take more control before my emotions break loose. Then I let my gaze fall on the shoulders of the monster responsible for this.
A commander dressed head to toe in tactical gear stands steadily by the skeletons. His small army of soldiers behind him. His black mask is shrouded in crimson blood and he wields a crescent sword of black fire borne from his Shadow. He is undoubtedly the commander of Noctili. He lets out a loud, crass laugh that echoes from beneath his mask.
I keep my face expressionless.
I’ll end this before Terra sees what I’m going to do to him. I won’t be kind, because although I don’t like Edgar, I despise watching helpless students fighting for one another and dying like they never mattered.
The commander stalks forward and swings his blade in an obtrusive slash, creating a wall of bright white fire around him. The light shines through his mask, revealing his gray eyes.
When I don’t move, the commander stops, perhaps not seeing me worthy of his flames. He tilts his head to the side and waves for his spare soldiers to take me on instead.
I crack a smile. I was hoping for as much—Velis is fucking starving.
I walk toward the first line of unfortunate soldiers. They raise their arms to strike me but they're so slow. I step between them and tap their foreheads with just my fingertips, one on each side of me, not once breaking eye contact with the commander behind them. The soldiers’ heads tilt back, stunned for a moment, before their blood ejects from the back of their skulls like bullets piercing straight through their brains. Their blood coats their fellow comrades, who abandon their magic and pull up their guns, carelessly opening fire at me.
I shudder as Velis slips from my body and creates a wall of shadow, absorbing their bullets. Velis lets out an angry growl that reverberates through the air and the soldiers gasp in horror. I let out a cackling laugh at their fear and think of a fitting end for them. Smiling, I raise my hand and pull down. Thumps sound in unison and their eyes roll to the backs of their skulls. Each falls limply, their spines torn clean from their vessels and stuck in the ground like poles.
A satisfying grin spreads across my lips.
Oh, how I’ve missed this.
The second wave is more hesitant and keeps a wider circle around me. I crack a knuckle on each hand, throwing my head back as if a tender ballad is playing. And it is. The crunching and slurping of their corpses sing a melody that shudders straight through me.
When my eyes open, the soldiers are nothing but nerves leading out from spinal cords. I once saw a similar display in a museum as a child. Dr. Cein took me to inspire my imagination.
Am I the artist he hoped for? Something wicked inside me hopes he’ll see this display and be proud.
I release them, letting the nerves shrivel to the bodies below.
I smirk as I walk toward the commander, who’s now trembling, his eyes wide with fear. His flame sword dwindles at his side.
“E-Elias? No, this was a misunderstanding, please—” the commander shrieks as he stumbles backward.
My smile widens. I love it when the Darkflies realize who I am. That look that flickers over their eyes is satisfying to watch. They are fully at my mercy and mine alone. I walk slowly until I’m standing directly in front of him. His sword has all but withered out.
He doesn’t budge. At least he didn’t run away screaming. There’s something a bit respectable to be said about that. To face death so boldly.
“Goodbye, commander of nothing,” I say bluntly. My smile lowers as my eyes widen with hunger for blood and vengeance. For the recreation of an awful memory.
I press my hand on his armor and nudge the commander backward. He falls so slowly. As he falls, his blood rises into the sky from his mouth and eyes. He screams for the tender bite of death that I withhold.
Until I finally flick my hand up and break each joint in his body apart. Each connection of his vertebrae along his spine and the deep sockets of his hips. The pops crackle in my ears, bringing a satisfied smile back to my lips.
The commander hits the ground in pieces. The entrails steam in coils along the remnants of his torso.
I stretch my arms out and sigh.
I should’ve limbered up first. I think I pulled something.
I walk back to Edgar and kneel at his side. Small, short breaths still rise from his lips.
