Page 65 of Gladiator Moon

The white light surges throughout the heart. Everywhere it passes, the beating muscle changes and seems to collapse in on itself.

Above, the monstrous tendrils shrivel in the light, withdrawing back into the ceiling. The demon birds simply vanish as though they never possessed any true substance to begin with. The grabbing hands disperse as well, melting back into the floor.

The heartbeat falters, its rhythm stumbling...

“I...” whispers the Dark One from seemingly right next to my ear. “I am tired.”

“Must take a lot of work running an evil empire.”

“I never saw myself as evil, Samantha. I just performed a role. A role I never asked for.”

“I know, pal. But it’s time for you to go. You’ve hurt a lot of innocent people.”

“I... I remember...” he says, his voice softer.

I frown. “Remember what?”

“What I was before...” He looks around the chamber, almost as if seeing it for the first time. “I was happy, Sam. I was good, And then, I found myself in this place... and I was so very different. I hated everyone.”

“Well, you’re about to go home.”

“To the Creator?”

“I believe so.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Maybe the Creator will be lenient with you.”

“No, no. I do not deserve it.”

His words hang between us. For just a moment, I don’t hear the entity behind eons of endless slaughter. I hear a creature who had been consumed by the role forced upon him. Compassion tugs at me as it always does. But compassion only goes so far. I need only to think of little Salt Creek fighting for her life... and the endless blood pumping into the disgusting rubbery teat.

So much blood, so much death...

I give the Devil Killer one last shove and twist. “Sorry, pal. It’s time to go.”

The heart splits in half. Brilliant white-gold light bursts out, blazing like a newborn star. The two halves drop to the convulsing floor below, where the Dark One lays face first, unmoving. Dead and dissolving before my eyes.

Chapter Thirty-two

As I suspected, the arena, palace, and dungeons remain solid.

However, Baltazar and I barely escape the Chamber of Creation as it folds in upon itself and disappears completely.

For several moments, we simply stand there in the throne room and watch until the shaking stops. The dungeon remains. So do the ancient stone passages, the stone ceiling, the flagstone floor, and the many wooden doors are all in place still.

Everything remains exactly where they had always been. Except the demons are gone. Every last one of thrm. In my world, the demons had remained, and I had been tasked with hunting them down with the original Devil Killer, a task that had proven dangerous to my family.

For now, I glance around in a state of some shock, trying to make sense of it all. Perhaps the demons were never truly independent creatures. Perhaps they were fragments of the Dark One’s own soul; he gave them shape and purpose. Or perhaps they simply could not or did not want to exist without their creator.

I didn’t know. Either way, they were gone, and the living mortals were still here. The prisoners. The warriors. The slaves. The guards and staff. Everyone who had been trapped inside the Dark One’s nightmare is still alive.

Including me.

Somehow.

***