Bound Evil

Emily watched as the busy robes moved about the ritual circles, putting last-minute touches on everyone's bloody tattoos.

Besides preparing the captives, they also worked to prepare the chamber. Placing massive flaskes filled with a mix of blood and herbs around the place. Jagged red pyrite littered the ground at certain intervals, along with certain reagents of oils and powders.

If she weren't so ‘involved’ in the process, Emily would have been interested in understanding what all of this meant. To her, it looked like real sorcery. Of course, there was no shortage of wonderful abilities in her world, but an established magic system? Forget about it.

Most power manifestations were once off and even if two people got similar powers, they rarely presented the same. Though, there was a case to be made for the strength of the ability. The earlier in childhood, it presented, the more powerful the ability, there were no exceptions to this rule as far as Emily had heard.

She was just inspecting the lines making up her particular circle when the head ritualist put up his hands.

“Enough, that's enough! We are beginning. I will lead the spell, you and you will be my second and third lines. Everyone assemble,” he said as he pointed to two nearby robed men.

“Yes, Head Mage!” they all responded in tune.

Their many voices bounced off the walls of the domed structure.

Moving into position around them, a quiet chant began to fill the room. Which became an uneasy energy rising in the pit of Emily’s stomach.

She would have shivered in anticipation if she hadn’t already been preparing herself to act. During the ritual’s set-up, Emily noticed that all the captives looked completely worn down, as though their strength was leaving them. One by one they fell where they stood or sat, and only a few remained.

The quietest of them all was the young man in the center, who had gone completely still, his head lulling.

Seeing she would get no help from her fellow captives, Emily inspected her ‘shackles’. They were easy enough to break so all that was left was her target. The illusionist would have to be the first to go.

At this point a gentle red mist had begun to creep into the room, emanating from the circles on the floor, as though the blood there were evaporating.

Using the hole in her head covering, Emily looked around for her nearest captors. Spotting three nearby, she saw they were busy with her circle, dipping ladles into a large canister and pouring fresh blood onto the evaporating circle.

The energy in the room was building now.

If these guys were anything like the head honcho, then they probably fought with power manifestations rather than brawn, but she had to be careful.

The circle below Emily began to heat up further, almost as though she were standing above a fire pit. The older man and woman next to Emily began to groan and shake beneath their coverings.

The mist rising from the circle attempted to pull power from Emily's chest but it was child’s play compared to her natural gift. So she batted it aside like one would a fly.

This caused her three captives to grunt as though suddenly under strain. This was not a good sign for them because it looked like whatever mojo they were doing was picking up speed.

The head robe hovered over Emily’s charge and brought his hands above his head. Red mist rushed from the other five circles and pooled in the air above them.

Again Emily cocked her head to the side, feeling that pull of power. As though the ritual were trying to reach in, and hollow her out.

It still wasn’t strong enough to affect her but it was time to act.

Emily couldn’t wait for the guy to plunge a sacrificial dagger in the kid's heart or something, then all of this would be wasted.

She started to scooch towards three men at the edge of the circle, trying her best to go unnoticed. It worked for a while but one of them eventually looked up and his eyes locked with her partially covered one.

Getting her legs under her she dove at the trio. The man who saw her coming reacted quickly jumping out of the way, and because of her bound state, pulled the other two men back with him.

Of course, Emily missed them but that just left her target out in the open. To be precise, the large canister of blood they’d been using to supply the circle. As Emily fell, she crashed against the pail and knocked its contents out, across the floor, spattering it with dark blood. Without hesitation, Emily rolled her body straight into the mess and reached down into her chest the connection was vibrant and immediate.

Suddenly the blood whipped up off the floor, as though given life, shaping into five sharp stalagmites. With a flick of her will, Emily launched the spears at the men. The projectile's speed was so high, that none of them had the chance to react, two were dead on impact and the last got skewered through the stomach.

Emily whipped back to the middle, where the head robe would have no doubt heard the commotion, and launched the largest spear yet with her remaining blood.

The bolt of red shot through the room and the head mage did indeed see it coming. Unfortunately for him, the ritual must have slowed his response. Because all he managed was some half-assed barrier of red light. The Olympian-sized spear tore past it with ease and stabbed through his left shoulder, sending the man sprawling across the ritual ground into the burning coals, unmoving. The moment he was gone the whole circle went to shit.

The two men whom the leader had named his second and third, suddenly dropped to the ground vomiting blood, only to keel over dead a second later.

This caused a ripple throughout the robes as every one of them screamed or grunted as though struck by some unseen force. A few of them even passed out then and there.

The remaining outer edges of the robes were in a panic as the red light began to fill the room at an accelerating pace.

Emily cursed, instead of stopping the spell, as she’d hopped, it looked like she’d just sent it into a tailspin.

Crawling forward, Emily reached for the man clutching his bleeding throat, he tried to fend her off but all he succeeded in doing snagging the corner of the stained fabric bag. Finally exposing her face to fresh air, and more importantly her teeth. Emily was dimly aware this was the first scarred man she’d seen on arrival, but that didn’t stop her from lunging and sinking her teeth into his neck.

His vitality was like nothing she even felt back at home. It was a potent mix of power and life. She wasn’t sure if this was caused by the spell or if this was how everyone in this world was, but it mattered little.

Almost as soon as Emily was done, she twisted her arms, and the ‘shackles’ snapped like plyboard. Standing to her full height Emily released the husk of a man which crumpled to the floor. Flush with fresh life force, Emily looked around the room with a smile.

By now everyone was recovering, and several men were pointing their hands out towards Emily as though preparing to fire.

Seeing what was about to come Emily reached down and grabbed onto the corpses by her feet. Blood poured out of them and wrapped around Emily’s form, like a bolt of cloth. Hardening into a delicate dress of crimson. The flakes of blood marring her skin peeled away to join the flowing gown, while fresh red droplets in her hair lengthened into an incomplete crown.

Emily couldn’t help stretching like a cat that had just woken from a nap as she refocused on the room.

“Boys and girls, you all have something I need,” Emily smiled.

This was too much for the robes near the edge, as they all fired bolts of blood in Emily’s direction.

The match-up could not have been worse because the moment they let loose, her gown expanded out like a beast and swallowed each attack, adding it to her reserves.

Emily laughed, they were feeding her without knowing.

It was only when her blood returned to her form that she saw the head robe was back on his feet, burn marks all down his face and neck.

Grunting, Emily sent two spears toward the man, but he was ready this time. Halting them in their tracks and sending them slopping to the floor. He then began to move toward the young man, perhaps to finish what he started

Realizing blood couldn’t stop him, Emily sprinted towards them, but the red glow in the room had reached its pinnacle.

All it took from the head mage was a single wave of his hands to cause the cloud of thrumming energy to rush toward the young man. Forcing itself into him and causing him to spasm on the ground.

The distance to the robed figure was not large but it still took time even with Emily going full tilt. That was just enough time for the man to place a hand on her charge’s forehead and release some kind of magic into him.

Emily crashed into the wounded man, tackling him backward. Their observers weren't idle either, as they threw more attacks at her gown.

Then the worst thing possible happened: the man in her arms disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Emily's frustration reached new heights as she spun on her heel, her eyes darting around the room, searching. This was precisely why she disdained illusionists—their knack for slipping away was second to none.

The ritual had reached a fever pitch and the red light was coalescing against the young mans skin, then all at once, the power radiating off everything in the room reached new heights and then flickered out. The moaning captives in the five outer circles went permanently quiet as the magic took everything from them.

Whatever had happened looked like it was complete as the light faded from the room.

Suddenly, Emily’s world became a series of sharp colors as something cracked over the back of Emily’s head dropping her to one knee. She had to struggle not to lose consciousness, but she kept her eyes open.

Because of this, Emily saw the leading mage had picked up a piece of the pyrite and whacked her over the head with it.

“You fools, stop using your blood, she’s practiced! Kill her!”

Blinking the salty tears from her eyes, Emily tried to swing out at his form but he scattered into a haze and reappeared at the other end of the room.

“Damn, The Five! Months of preparation, down the drain. I will promote whoever brings me her head!”

The cruel voice sounded distant, as though on the other end of a tunnel, but the others weren't. Vicious shouts went up in the room as they drew decorative blades that would have fit perfectly into a horror movie. The only upside was that of the original seventeen robes in here, five were dead and another four were passed out on the floor.

That still left the illusionist and seven others, but now that things had gone this far, the best course of action was to deal with the weaklings. She wasn’t even sure the image of the illusionist was real, scratch that, it definitely wasn’t.

Shaking her head Emily stood and dropped into her best self-defense form. Bringing her hands up to guard her head, another hit like that would put her down.

The first man to approach got a jab in the throat and her nails slashed across his face, marring his pretty scars and putting out the fight for a moment.

The next Emily sidestepped and brought her foot down on the side of his knee, a satisfying crack resounding through the room.

The illusionist must have thrown something because an invisible object crashed into the side of Emily’s hip causing pain to shoot down her leg.

The third robe used the opening and grabbed her from behind, but she broke the hold by having her gown shift into dozens of spikes killing him instantly. Adding his blood to her defense.

Panting, Emily was just eyeing the remaining four when a tortured scream came out from the young man's direction.

Looking over she expected to see him dying from whatever the ritual had done to him, but instead, he stood there calmly.

At some point, the kid must have gotten his head cover off and procured a knife, because he held it in front of himself, stabbing it through open air.

The rest of the room had frozen, only for the illusionist to shimmer from view, completely fading out.

Blood then began to drip down the kid’s blade, and eventually, the figure of the illusionist appeared. However, unlike Emily’s wide shot, the dagger had not missed the man's heart. The last of the light in his eyes faded just as everyone realized what had happened.

In the chaos, this kid had escaped, stolen a weapon, and somehow located the real illusionist.

All of this could not have taken more than a couple of breaths, and yet the fresh corpse left little to refute.

For a fraction of a second, the young man’s eyes met Emily’s. Gone was the fear and desperation she had seen moments ago, replacing it was a focused gaze that was already sizing her up.

Then time seemed to resume as he broke into a mad dash and sunk the blade into the neck of its next victim.

Temporary alliance cemented, Emily turned to face her remaining two.

One of the idiots had resumed using blood attacks, but Emily made sure to collect as many of those as she could. The other charged her directly, seeing him coming, Emily tried to sidestep again, but the robe must have expected that because he changed directions at the last second.

Hardening the gown around her chest prevented the dagger from plunging more than a couple of centimeters into her chest. But now the man was too close for his own good, Emily wrapped her arms around him and bit into his shoulder.

The man was a husk before he hit the ground and the final robe froze, staring on in horror. Emily took a step forward but the man must have lost his nerve because he made a break for the exit.

Sadly, he turned and ran straight into a bloodied dagger. The young man had appeared in front of him and plunged it straight into his gut.

Emily frowned and glanced over to see the other robes already dead, even her incapacitated one.

As the final man died the room fell silent, save for their heavy breathing, and then the young man spoke as he lowered his weapon at Emily.

“You shouldn’t be alive.”