England, West Coast
Devonshire, Dartmoor
Dyowl's Hollow - Woods of Dartmoor
5 November 1898, 11:14 pm

The blood rushed in Ben's ears, drowning out his own thoughts. His breathing was heavy and rapid. His chest heaved in rhythm with his wild heartbeats like a sheet under which panicked birds crashed against the barrier and yet failed to escape. With both hands, he clutched the revolver in his hands so tightly that his fingers hurt.

The monster stomped after the hurled wizard and Ben's thoughts were racing. He wanted to run, but then he stopped as if moved by lightning.

"If there is a time for your prayers, it is NOW!" Kyle's voice rang in his ears.

If he ran headlong now, they would both die. Kyle had bought him time for a reason. He believed in him. This arrogant mage with all his skill had looked at HIM hopefully! So Crowford had to be truly convinced that what was inside him would help them! His prayers and pleas. He couldn't just throw that away. Even if everything in him screamed to follow his comrade because the urge to protect him and perhaps watch helplessly as this monster finished Crowford off almost drove him mad. But he HAD to use that hope, small as it might seem. For it was their only one. Ben's gaze dropped down to his fingers, where the metal of his revolver gleamed. The grip with the wooden insert and the emblem of his family stared back at him.

Beyond the hollow, the creature's footsteps thundered and paws roughly pushed aside a tree, its trunk bursting under the pressure. The crown of the fir tree buckled to the side and joined the wood on the forest floor, rustling. The creature's force caused more and more trees to bend and break aside, laying this place, overgrown by nature, now fallow into a clearing. The sky above them was covered in wisps of clouds that kept moving in front of the moon and then were driven on by the wind. Now the dull moonlight provided a little more visibility where the dim light was not tangled in mist or black smoke.

The slitted pupils of numerous glowing eyes slid across the forest floor, searching for the accursed wizard, this time to finish him off once and for all. But to the demon's annoyance and anger, he could not spot him. A large oak tree had collapsed, bending over a black crack in the ground that led into the depths. As he approached, the earth groaned under his weight and the beast growled so that the darkness of the night began to vibrate under his rancor. But then low murmurs seeped into the air, soaking it with something else.

The creature's long neck swung around, twisting, and the burning eyes in the great skull latched onto the source of that sickening sound that poked him in the head with fine needles: the doctor.

Ben was still standing exactly where Crowford had left him. Among fallen trees, uprooted brush, and boulders amidst the leaf-flooded forest earth and surrounded by billowing clouds of mist. He clutched the gun whose barrel rested against his forehead. His eyes were squeezed shut and he? He prayed. To God, whatever God. The one or the entity of this world that had stood by him and whose origin, name, or intention he knew. Yet he pleaded and prayed for succor. He pleaded with everything he could think of, from the deepest depths of his soul.

The laughter that came from the demon's serpentine throat was deep, coated with dozens of angular coals, and sounded in several voices at once from the creature's maw. Leathery, wormy skin stretched over the creature's body, flowing into scale-like outgrowths and horns that rattled as he turned to face the praying fool.

"The doctor is praying! The man of science is so desperate that he prays!" the laughter rang out in the gloom, echoing Ben from all sides at once, "Do you really think that will help you now?!" sneered the ungodly creature, long tongues sliding over black and yellow teeth as he turned to face him. "I will kill you. I will tear you apart. Your bones will rot here, eaten by beetles and forgotten by all." The demon hissed and growled, then lunged forward.

The doctor clutched at the revolver. The empty revolver. He knew it resembled insanity. He was not a fanatic who threw himself into the dirt before idols, eyes rolling wildly. He did not want to die.

"Please... "

Fear made his heart lurch. The ground shook under the drumming of the mighty claws. Ben jerked the revolver forward. His arms shook and his finger slipped from the trigger. Cursing, he pressed his lips together and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Nothing. Of course not! 

No. No, he had to believe. He thought of Sudan. Of the sand that trickled from his body and his breaths that staggered and were as heavy as those of a child freshly born into the world. Everything was familiar, everything was new. He did not want to die again. He didn't want to feel the cold anymore, the feeling of how everything just... ended.

"Shit!"

He pressed again.

The drum spun.

Click.

The revolver trembled in his hands.

"Please. PLEASE," he said out loud this time.

His whole body was trembling.

Ben thought of the jackals. Out of nowhere they had appeared and thrown themselves at the man. He remembered the tearing of flesh, the cracking of bones. The screams in the death throes were over as quickly as they had begun. How the bloodied muzzles with bared teeth had turned towards him and then... they were gone again.

He thought of the moment in the forest when he had pressed his hand on Kyle's injury and could think of nothing else but the desire to save him. He hadn't doubted then, hadn't hoped.

PLEASE. PLEASE HELP ME.

He pressed again.

Then a loud bang sounded.

The bullet whizzed through the misty clouds and burrowed through the thick horn of the gleaming scales into the demon's sinewy flesh. This time it literally hit its target dead center. Viscous blood spurted, acting in the darkness like ink carelessly blasted onto a page. A pitch-black gush scattered into the air and then pelted the ground like acid rain. The beast screamed so loudly that even in the distance the screeching could be heard that had not shaken this forest for a long time.

Benjamin stared stunned. There had been no bullet left in the barrel. He was sure of it. As if to confirm his thought, he pressed again.

Again there was a bang, the gun jerked in recoil and the bullet slammed into the large body. Bubbles of black blood bubbled in the great ripped maw and a terrible sound escaped the creature's throat. All at once the beast roared, paused in its onslaught, and writhed in nasty pain. As Ben pulled the trigger again, his heart in a flutter of hope and burgeoning joy, he saw a narrow flash of light push through the mist, trailing the bullet like a tail before it tore a large scale from the beast's body. It smacked as the disgusting blood flowed like thick oil to its legs, leaving an acid-like hiss there.

"You bastard! Strangler of a filthy whore!" the demon barked and screamed, its sounds distorted and rage-filled. "I WILL kill you! I WILL KILL YOU!" with each shot his ravings grew louder. Beastly eyes sprayed pestilence and destruction in Ben's direction. The demon squinted his eyes into narrow slits. Pain riddled his thoughts, martyred by the damned bullets that tore his body apart with the torture of purgatory. Billowing like a mirage, the light refracted in a shape behind the cursed human.

Through the treetop, a little moonlight fell spottily on the lurking shadow, protecting or watching, that stood behind the cowering human. A formidable figure, much taller than the ridiculous human. Even though his physique resembled that of a mortal, it merged into a massive skull with large ears and a long snout. The demon let out a wrath-burning roar so that the adversary knew who he was up against and that he was going to tear his little blessed servant to shreds!

Ben had no inkling of this. He could only stare at the pain-distorted demon and pull the trigger. Again and again, the bullets drilled into the massive body, spearing black brew onto the ground and the rustling foliage of surrounding thickets that wailed hissingly below. Then the demon wriggled out of the line of fire and frayed into the black, thick mist that fled from Ben's view in the shadows between the trees.

The doctor's chest heaved and heaved. Ben was frozen in a pillar of salt for a few seconds, then finally regained his control. With hands trembling and thoughts wiped clean, he reached for the cylinder of his revolver and flipped it open. No bullets or shell casings filled the barrel. Only some sand trickled out of the gun onto the forest floor.

Everything spun around him as the small, warm grains simply fell over his hand. The world appeared to him like a swirling kaleidoscope. Everything he had thought he knew before his journey was shattered into thousands of pieces that had to be reassembled. He felt as if he had gone mad and it was all a nightmare. And all he wanted was for it to end.

"Consecrated balls, you Babylonian whore?! So you want to play unfairly? Then let's play!" The wild roar of thousands of voices stabbed his eardrums. Fear heightened Ben's senses and now he noticed again how much it reeked of blood and death. Ben coughed, tried to breathe shallowly and his gaze searched the girl in desperation. Then he saw the blackened shadow, rushing towards Annabeth.

The cylinder snapped back into the revolver as Ben pulled the trigger. He pulled the trigger and there was a deafening pop. The first shot missed wide, but the second hit the demon again and knocked it back. Ben rushed off without thinking much about it.

Annabeth lay among the leaves and smoldering smoke. Small sparks decorated the leaves with devastating ornamentation and Ben rushed as fast as he could toward the small body. He was only a few feet away when suddenly something large came crashing down directly in front of him, like a huge boulder. It made the earth shake and Benjamin lost his balance. 

He staggered back, fell to the ground, and pressed the small child against him. But the next moment the paw hit him ruthlessly and crushed him. Huge claws enclosed him in a cage of gnarled, leathery talons. Earth churned around him and the weight pressed him down. He had only a split second to realize that this monster was about to kill them both.

Ben felt all his bones groan. Out of reflex, he immediately raised his gun and squeezed. A shot banged, went off in the wrong direction, and tore a hole in a tree without there being a projectile there that could have stuck. Then he pressed again and the shapeless bullet from his revolver grazed the dragon-shaped demon on the wing. He jerked his head up, roared, and increased the pressure on Ben's body. His chest groaned and Ben feared he was about to just burst open. Then the pressure eased, but the monster's head drove down and a shrill, bloodcurdling scream cut into the darkness.

Knives like daggers snatched at his arm and clasped it between the two massive jaws. He could only cry out in horror as the razor-sharp teeth pierced through his skin and sliced the tissue effortlessly. His boils groaning and gnashing, Ben felt the long, dirty fangs pierce through his flesh, and in a fierce cry of exploding pain, he let the revolver slip from his hands. The demon released the pressure, blood gushing from ripped-open wounds of shredded flesh. Ben could think nothing, he felt only pain. It exploded in his head, in front of his eyes, and Ben struck out blindly, roaring at the creature.

To his amazement, the beast let go of him. The forked tongues ran over the mouth of slippery gums and bloodied drool. Ben groaned and cold sweat stood all over his face. The dull moonlight and the glow of the charcoal-glowing feather on the beast's head made the drops of agony shimmer. Benjamin pulled at the arm that was undoubtedly broken. Warm blood ran down his chest and again and again, he wavered between fainting and the pain that would not allow him to slide over.

"It's over." the demon's sinister voice murmured through his foggy mind. He wanted to punch the beast in the face. Ben tried to concentrate to heal the injury but there the claw pressed down on his body again, instantly banishing this folly from his mind. "You will die now and I will chew on your souls."

Ben's breath caught. Live, he wanted to live. We are going to die here. He thought instead and clenched his teeth so that the doctor's square jaws stood out more clearly. He clawed at the leathery skin, feeling scales and the sickening coils beneath the surface. He braced himself, trying to somehow protect the child with his uninjured arm, but it was futile.

"Say your last prayer doctor. It won't save you this time."