England, West Coast
Devonshire, Dartmoor
Dyowl's Hollow - Woods of Dartmoor
5 November 1898, 11:08 pm

Benjamin stared. The gigantic firs full of sharp thorns lay torn down on the forest floor, broken branches full of pine needles scattered everywhere, as if after a merciless storm. Then suddenly hands grabbed him and he winced, only to look up into Crowford's tense face. The latter's chest rose and fell heavily from the strain as he struggled to his feet. "That won't hold him for long!" he groaned, his gaze still darting uneasily about.

The forest and the darkness were so thick that the trees seemed to have moved closer in the gloom. The ghostly fingers of mist crept closer again, narrowing their circle around the hollow. After all, they had been through today, both men should have been dead tired. Instead, they were exhausted and wide awake in equal measure. Adrenaline pumped through their veins, keeping them upright. Despite the effort, the constant hoping, fearing, and failing again. An ebb and flow of emotions. Ben could see the mage's left-hand tense. It was smeared with blood, but underneath he recognized an unhealthy, blackish tinge.

"What's wrong with your arm?" asked Ben, but when he tried to reach for the mage's hand to look at it, he pulled it away from him.

"I already told you, we don't have time for this!" the mage hissed tensely. But Ben thought he saw a hint of shame or panic in the blue eyes, which was quickly hidden again behind the tension of their situation. "You can't kill a demon that easily!" the mage continued as he pressed his own hand to the bleeding injury on his left. His nose wrinkled, then his gaze slid to Ben's side and the revolver. "Why didn't you shoot?" he asked, and Ben winced under the question as if he had slapped the seasoned soldier.

"I-" he put in, then his voice broke at the cold fact and his hands began to shake again. Kyle's gaze slipped and perhaps at that moment, he understood that the soldier had not returned unscathed from the distant land of sand and skirmishes. At least not in the way it appeared and Ben wanted everyone to believe. "We're out of ammo." Ben pressed out and his voice took on a rough sound. " I can't shoot anymore. I won't be much help anymore."

I don't want to die. Ben thought and the trembling spread to his whole body. I don't want to die again.

The blow hit him so unexpectedly that his head flew to the side. Kyle had lashed out, slapping him so hard that hot flames rose in his face, and now he stared at the younger man, stunned.

"Get a hold of yourself Archer!" the mage said and dragged the doctor to his feet where he bumped him in the chest. "You're a shit soldier! That monster tried to kill us so many times and we survived it all this time! Get a hold of yourself!" Kyle grabbed him by his coat and shook him. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the mage's features. "For fuck's sake! You said yourself you pray and it happens!"

As if the mage had given a go-ahead for something with that, all at once there was a deafening crash. The trees burst upwards and, as if in slow motion, they slid aside around the clump of black-hot mist, smacking bending flesh and red-hot eyes. The demon swelled, and spread its arms and the sound echoed from every direction, making every tree and stone tremble. The surfaces of the small puddles rippled, and a few stones from the steep, jagged rock faces of the hollow came loose and fell rumbling down into the bed of mud and leaves.

The hulking body fell forward, the spine bending at an unnatural angle in a noisy crack, and it looked as if every inch of the hitherto whitish-grey skin was now blackening with charcoal dust. The earth trembled, a few cracks dug loudly into the forest floor and some of the less firmly rooted trees fell over like matchsticks with a miserable roar. One of the colossi crashed to the ground not far from the two searchers, causing them to leap forward in their rising panic and stare at the image before them.

Blackness drenched the monster's rage-distorted features as they cracked and crunched, breaking and reforming. Screams and wails rumbled in the air, making them thick as the waters of the swamp. So many screams rumbled in their ears and drove into their minds with stabbing pain that it was hard to think at all.

Ben saw only a sea of shadows, ink, and shapeless flesh. With jerky movements and a smacking sound that shook him to the core, the creature's form pulled apart. Suddenly a stuffy, oppressive heaviness filled the air. Ben stared at the leaves, which began to glow under the sudden heat. They curled with a hiss and smoke rose, making the battlefield even more confusing.

"Damn it! Too late!" A strong wind whipped through the forest, blowing the smell of acrid smoke into their lungs. Kyle coughed, then reached for Archer's coat again. "Ben! Ben listen to me!" he waited until the other Seeker finally looked at him. "You pray and things happen you understand!" he shouted, but Ben didn't understand.

Ben looked at Crowford, the pale face with all the scratches, dirt, and blood. The wizard looked at him as if he didn't understand that the world was not a disc, but round. Those big blue eyes looking up at him that he wanted the magician not to think were weak. "Ben, you can heal! This is not dark art! This is a blessing! ETWAS answering your prayers!" Kyle shouted at him, shaking him. "I distract the beast! And you pray! Pray for something to help us, for coyotes or a sandstorm or bullets for your stupid gun for all I care!"

"Kyle this is madness!" groaned Ben at last, but Crowford stared earnestly back at him.

"There are demons and magic! And you still think that's madness? You should start believing, Ben. Whatever helps you, you have his attention!" And Crowford didn't seem to care at the moment what that could be.

Out of mist and smoke wriggled a huge figure. Shiny scales alternated with leathery skin, and great plates rattled and clanked dully. Ben stared in horror. His eyes tried to comprehend what he saw there. Something in him didn't want to believe it. Ben did not want to believe that such a creature could burst a tree trunk with its weight. Curved claws churned the soft earth and made mud gurgle, while reddish, long feathers on its head trembled between a ridge of thorns. The three long, forked tongues coiled, hissing like a rattlesnake, and the serpentine, coiled body more resembled a reptile. The long body ended in a tail that swept wildly across the forest floor, uprooting bushes with superhuman strength.

"If there's a time for your prayers, it's NOW!" said Crowford, ripping the revolver from its holster and pressing it into Benjamin's hands. "Show me what you got, Ben!" he urged him, then took a deep breath and sprinted off.

"KYLE!" roared Ben after him, his hand driving forward but he couldn't get a grip on him. The other man's dirt-smeared coat just slipped through his fingers.

"I'm going to CRUSH you!" the dozens of wild, animal-like eyes were wide and a long drawn-out roar escaped the demon's throat. Now a huge mouth with long, curved teeth full of swords was emblazoned towards them. The gums were black as pitch, the rows of teeth partly grey-brown and then running into yellowish and white tips. Drool dripped from the powerful jaws, above which stood the slitted eyes of a hell-beast. There was a smell of smoky fumes and sulfur rock, though there were no mines or coal mines here.

He heard Crowford speak again, the alien language that came so easily to his lips, and then another blinding flash of light entered the tangle of darkness and mist. But it bounced against the scales and fizzled out as if it had been no more than a ball of cotton wool.

All at once, the huge black beast was gone far too quickly. Then Benjamin heard a cracking and breaking sound and his head went to the side. The monster had done what the demon had been accomplishing all along: dissolve and reform in another place.

"The travel spell." it flashed through Ben's mind and he couldn't breathe.

A long, rumbling growl came from the huge throat. Horns curled out of the massive skull and a trunk snapped under a paw as if it were no more than a graphite pencil. The great claw made the ground groan as the beast straightened a little more and fixed its prey. The demon bared its long, curved fangs and Ben saw the massive creature lunge. The beast hit Crowford squarely in the torso, across the chest.

"KYLE! NO!" this time it was his shrill scream that forced its way from his throat to the air. His vocal cords groaned under the weight of all the anger and panic that manifested in that scream. He saw Crowford fly through the air. Several meters until he crashed into a tree with such a sickening sound that Benjamin felt sick. Then he fell to the forest floor and Ben could no longer see him. Only black scales, a whipping tail, and grotesque, mangled wings that looked as if the leathery flight skin was about to peel off their bony stumps.

Everything became bright before Kyle's eyes. Lights exploded from the pain where there was no light as he slammed into a tree. He felt every bone groan, and heard the telltale crack in his chest. Gravity pulled at his body, yanked him back down and he crashed to the forest floor. He rolled between the thick roots of the large, sloping oak into a hole full of leaves and branches.

Gasping, it pressed the air out of his lungs, he tasted blood and could not breathe. Blind with pain, he wanted to scream, but all he could produce was a strangled gasp. Cramped, he tore open his mouth to breathe in. He gagged, and gasped, but his chest was paralyzed. He felt stones pressing into his flesh, the burning pain in his hand. Dirt and small leaves stuck in the gaping wound, adorning it and making it burn like fire. His head was dull, he felt sick and everything was spinning.

Then he heard the approaching rumble of footsteps of great paws, and smelled the new surge of stinking phosphorus and sulfur. The wind carried the stench of decay to him, making the panting breaths that finally forced themselves into his lungs stiff and thick.

RUN AWAY!

"Get up! Come on get up! You've got to get up!" his thoughts commanded themselves, but his cursed, weak body refused to obey the orders. Kyle gritted his teeth so hard he could hear the groans in his rushing ears and pushed himself up. The doctor would give them victory. He just had to finally understand what he could do, understand what he was capable of. Not shooting or just healing.

Groaning, Kyle pushed himself upwards. At least that was what he intended to do. But then suddenly he heard a clacking sound, like stones rolling. A crack and the groan of wood. It was not coming from the tree, nor from the hollow over which he had been involuntarily hurled. 

Kyle's eyes widened as the earth suddenly disappeared between his fingers like sand. It simply trickled into a black depth, leaving stones and earth collapsing. The thin, withered roots of the dead oak groaned, then gave way under his weight. Kyle felt the jolt. Then he hit it. Once. Twice. Pain everywhere exploded and then everything went black and earth and falling debris followed him into the maw of darkness that engulfed him.