England, West Coast
Devonshire, Dartmoor
Dyowl's Hollow - Woods of Dartmoor
5 November 1898, 10:50 pm

A deep dark rumble came full-throated from the creature's chest. Kyle could see that it was in a rage. And he couldn't have cared less. If this filthy son of a bitch should be angry and raving, then perhaps he made mistakes in his frenzy. And those could be to their advantage.

It couldn't get any worse and their lives were already on the line. It was now either the thing or them. And just escaping death, to his own surprise, there was no fear rumbling in his stomach this time. The clammy, oppressive feeling had drowned in the black water and given way to dogged resentment.

"It is not possible. This magic far exceeds your abilities pathetic hedge mage." the creature croaked, then its pointed chin slid higher. The long, scrawny nose stretched, nostrils flared like great nostrils, and inhaled deeply.

He squinted his eyes into narrow slits and, teeth bared, his gaze now caught the wizard's hand. The tissue around the thumb, from which red blood smeared across the wrist, inviting more to be torn open, was streaked with a blackish tinge. Then, all at once, realization flashed in his eyes and the contorted grimace widened the eyes, which until just now had been narrowed to slits, in a mixture of disbelief and realization.

"Blood magic..." he murmured then, tasting the sinister word on his tongue, and Kyle could see Benjamin now staring at him from even wider eyes. "How dare you tear a hole in the fabric so recklessly!"

"You made me do it, you bastard." Kyle hissed back dryly, piercing the grotesque figure with an equally icy stare as he now stood up. He wiped the black hair from his forehead and eyes so it wouldn't block his vision. Now, for the first time, he could see the beast that was making their lives so difficult. Grotesquely disfigured forms, so inhuman and gruesome to look at that he would have liked to throw up again. "You almost killed me. Who or what the hell are you?!"

"I am the Dragon of Manaton..." the monster began to hiss...

The dragon of Manaton. Dragon. A switch finally flipped in Kyle's head and now the myriad of pieces meshed together.

The story of the new priest came to his mind. Countless years ago, a knight was supposed to have slain a dragon in this area. That's why this place was called St. George.

St. George, and his battle against the dragon, was symbolic of Christianity's victory over the pagans - and the devil. The slaying of the beast.

People were still afraid of the place in the woods. Dyowl's Hollow. The Devil's Hollow. Kyle's eyes clung to the glowing red feather that danced and glowed on the creature's hide. Little sparks broke loose and scattered in the night before going out. In German and Baltic fairy tales, the devil often appeared with a red feather on his hat.

Now everything suddenly made sense. How could he have been so blind?!

"You're a demon," pronounced Kyle, interrupting the creature who was already in the process of boasting all his titles and false names. "YOU are a goddamn demon." Clicking teeth interlocked and kept the wheels turning in his mind.

"You played the child, made a pact and now you steal the lives and the souls." he snapped and the demon bared its teeth.

"You, wizard, are not supposed to be alive." He rumbled, not responding to Kyle's words. "Fear of you, put your name on the little Annabeth's list. YOU should have drowned quietly in your watery grave... Now I am forced to tear you apart in front of you're precious Doctor. Piece. By. Piece." He clicked his tongue and then wrinkled his elongated nose so that the leathery skin wrinkled thickly. "No one interferes with my pact with impunity."

The sudden wind almost swept Kyle off his feet. It dragged up all the leaves from the ground that clung to branches, root systems, or trees. Endless patches of damp, sticky, and dirty leaves were suddenly everywhere in brown, red, and yellow. A colossal storm slapped against her legs, her face, and into her eyes.

From now on, a sickening pressure settled around her ears, but it was broken by disembodied, shrill screams of shrieking suffering. As if someone were devouring hundreds of them alive, or torturing children, women, and men alike, tearing the flesh from their bones while they were still alive. That's what it sounded like when you filled a torture chamber with people screaming their heads off yet unable to escape their suffering. From the sounds alone, Dr. Archer and Kyle wanted to squirm too. Their ears rang, ached and no clear thought could form in this torture.

Everything happened at once. Sticks hit them in the face. Hard and pointed, sometimes thorny branches and then again just small dry twigs. Leaves slapped between them, stuck to their skin, and were everywhere with the churned earth of the sudden storm. They had no choice but to press their eyes and lips together. Dr. Archer dragged Kyle behind a rock where they huddled together, arms and legs pulled to their bodies, trying to protect themselves. Their pounding hearts were already expecting another attack at any moment.

But suddenly, as quickly as it had risen, the storm collapsed. The icy breath died away. The screams and the roaring died away. The rain of leaves descended, suddenly rushed back towards the ground, released by unseen forces, and poured down on Dyowl's Hollow like a torrent of a downpour. A musty smell was in the air, thick and heavy because the storm had stirred up the already decomposing foliage. All manner of creepy crawlies scurried about on the muddy forest floor and took refuge again in piles of leaves and tree roots. A sea of dead leaves covered the ground, the crowns of the trees had thinned out even more than before and even the firs had now left many needles.

Kyle's breath came quickly as he pushed himself up. Beside him, the doctor also immediately started moving again and their eyes darted around in alarm. The mist crept over the ground again, as if an angry wind had not just bent the bushes like soft strands of hair, set some trees at an angle, and made them all groan under the weight. The demon, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"Shit." groaned Dr. Archer, and Kyle could see the moss-green eyes darting through the gloomy corners. "Where is he?!" murmured the doctor, the sickening feeling on the back of his neck of not knowing where the danger sat and from where it might suddenly spring forth.

"I don't know," growled Kyle, clenching his hand into a fist. The stinging pain squeezed in his thumb. He pulled his hand from the rock, remembering that he still had something to hide from Dr. Archer. "He could be anywhere. The travel spell is powerful and he cast it on both of us. We might even be standing somewhere completely different in a moment." Kyle clenched his teeth and his head rattled on what they could do. "We've got a real problem here."

"Can't demons be banished or imprisoned?" groaned Dr. Archer quietly, his voice pressed down and his eyes rushing erratically to any shadow that showed itself anywhere. But in the end, the moonlight was only playing its games with them. As soon as the clouds in the sky shifted, so did the spots on the forest floor. "He said a grail knight locked him up? Can't we do the same?" he simply couldn't think of anything better to say.

Kyle's gaze slid to the man, then he frowned and finally nodded."I know how to draw a spell circle to trap a demon inside," the mage said, then felt Dr. Archer's sidelong glance. The doctor had heard the demon speak of blood magic and Kyle could literally feel the maw that events and dark words had torn between them.

"How do you know?" the doctor asked and Kyle gave him a sharp look.

"Do we really have time for that now?" he hissed back irritably, pointing at Annabeth who was still lying too close to the hollow and now half-covered in foliage. "Better get the girl to safety, or at least out of the line of fire," he added more sharply, seeing the doctor hesitate for a second. But then the latter finally nodded and Kyle snorted. He was tense and irritable and had no fucking time for such games! He was still soaked to the bone, just about drowned and his wand was at the cursed bottom of some musty well! In spite of everything, he had come here, to Dr. Archer to help him, instead of running away.

There was a crack somewhere and immediately their eyes traveled in that direction. Nothing was to be seen.

Kyle bent down and picked up a slightly larger stick that was splitting further up in a small fork of a branch. The bark was already peeling and crumbling away, but he didn't care about that. It would serve its purpose. "Go on, get on with it." the hissed to the soldier. Then he set himself in motion and crept out from behind the rock.

The moon barely cast any light on the hollow. Only in some places did the dull moonlight venture down to the forest floor. While Dr. Archer moved towards Annabeth in a crouched posture and careful steps, Kyle placed the tip of the stick into the ground with pressure. In his mind, he went over the conditions that his plan would work. A circle was the start. It had to be closed at all costs, the line not blurred. Capturing the demon, however, would certainly not be easy.

His heart fluttered wildly in his chest. Still, it seemed tighter to him than before. When he swallowed, his throat was raw and he felt the need to spit out another two or three times because the disgusting taste of the brackish water still lingered in his throat. Or perhaps the lump of unease lingered stubbornly in his throat.

Not far away, Dr. Archer's footsteps rustled as he reached little Annabeth and lifted her with one arm. The girl did not stir and Kyle deeply hoped she was all right. Countless leaves were hanging in her curls, and her cheeks and face were smeared with dirt. Kyle shook his head, then hurried to draw the circle. Nervously, his gaze slid around. He sensed that bastard was still watching them. What was he waiting for?

Dr. Archer, meanwhile, rushed the little girl away from the hollow until he reached the denser rows of trees. He placed the girl against a larger oak tree among the dense roots, hoping she would be safe there.

A scraping sound accompanied the tip of the branch across the earth. It left a deep furrow and Kyle kept looking around, listening in the darkness, wincing at the slightest sound. Those few seconds and minutes dragged on uncomfortably for him. The tip of the wood cracked as it bumped against a stone. Kyle grabbed the cursed piece of grey rock, shook it, and threw it aside. Clacking, it landed somewhere in the undergrowth.

"Kyle!"

Just as he was about to take another step back, he heard the doctor suddenly call out in alarm. Kyle turned his head and uttered a curse.

The doctor's exclamation broke off abruptly and died away in a pain-distorted gasp that choked in his throat. His mouth opened in a silent scream as the long claws closed around his head and then flung him away in a high arc as if he were no more than a lifeless doll. Dr. Archer's body crashed into a tree. There was a dull, unpleasant sound and Kyle felt his stomach turn once inside because in his worry he could hear the cracking of bones all the way to him. The demon's large mouth twisted into such a cruel grin that it once again made Kyle's blood run cold.

"Did you think it would be so easy?!" hissed the brittle and raspy voice, fixing its piercing eyes directly on the wizard. The latter's gaze slid back and forth between the doctor, who was currently groaning loudly as he tried to pull himself to his feet at the base of the tree, and the demon. The glowing pupils stood out in the darkness, two shining points of horror. It was obvious that he still felt superior to them and Kyle clenched his hand into a fist so tightly that the pain from his thumb cut through his perception.

"Go to hell!" he shouted at the thing, but a spellless mage for some reason still seemed to demand less respect and attention from the demon than the soldier did. 

In the meantime, the soldier had picked himself up and was already aiming his revolver at the scum again.