LUST
Story by LiveIron on SoFurry
'Each other.'
>The thralls thin out as you cut through the corn.
>Their unsteady gait left clear trails through the dead stalks, all coming from the direction of the flame.
>Makes fighting your way to it a little easier.
>Rebecca shouts directions between swings of her blade.
>Not to guide you, but to tell you were the thralls are coming from.
>Some still jump out like cheap thrills in a corn maze.
>Rebecca shreds the ones you don't catch. It's scary watching her up close.
>You don't think she's used a sword more than a day, but her swings obliterate the creatures regardless.
>You stay close to her, inside her guard. You'd rather deal with her swaying hips and stomping feet.
>The thralls manage to close in a few times.
>You didn't spot them fast enough; Rebecca has to step around you; all the little errors and cautions stack up and go wrong.
>One latches onto your arm. Another slashes at your armor, the claws tearing through to the knife-vest layer.
>Talia picks them off easily.
>Rebecca's snarls raise in pitch whenever the monsters manage to get to her
>Like you, most can barely reach past her stomach. Instead they add new stripes to her legs.
>The tigress barely notices.
>She sends thralls flying back into sword-range with her hips, kicks them with footpaws the size of their torso.
>Her voice gets deeper as she calls out bogeys.
>Before long, they're just guttural growls.
>You get slapped with her tail; her sword whooshes over your head.
>You hit the deck with a grunt, chaff blowing up in your face.
>Above you, her muzzle is wrinkled in a permanent snarl.
>Her green eyes glint red in the night.
>"Rebecca!"
>You dance around her feet, taking potshots at thralls.
>"Rebecca! Down here!"
>She finally pauses and glances down at you.
>Her eyes are a little more human.
>"Are we close?" you ask.
>The flames reflect off her teeth.
>"Yeah," she growls.
>You grab her arm before she swings again. You keep your eyes on hers, letting Talia deal with the stragglers that approach.
>"Remember what I said."
>"Don't let it control you, don't end up like me."
>Rebecca growls.
>Then she runs off, charging towards the flame.
>You curse and set off after her through the corn.
>Her path through the stalks is wide, marked occasionally by chopped clearings and cleaved bodies.
>You almost run into her when you catch up. She's stopped at the edge of a large clearing.
>The stalks are all dead and withered, laying on the cold ground. Jagged shoots lie here and there, the whole thing looking like a wasteland.
>In the center lies an inferno, the fire an angry red.
>It silhouettes the familiar, emaciated figure draped in cloth.
>Flames wreathe Patrick's legs; his missing arm is hidden beneath the tattered cloak.
>He laughs, the sound rising to that demonic pitch from before.
>His army howls around you.
>Rebecca answers in a roar.
>She flashes, her fiery, otherworldly mantle wreathing her once more.
>Her stripes burn a blistering white.
>Patrick smiles as she charges towards him, raising his cut staff.
>And then the flames engulf them both.
>You hiss and pull back from the heat; they're infernally hot even from across the large clearing.
>You call the tigress' name and get no answer, save snarling and the clash of steel on steel.
>Your breathing quickens.
>"Rebecca!" you yell again. Your voice cracks.
>The flames flare and push you back; the screech of the thrall behind you is the only way you know it's real.
>You point the Kolibri over your shoulder and fire; there's a bloody gurgle.
>"Talia," you whisper. "Please."
>The pearly metal of the tiny gun glimmers in the flames.
>Your hands are shaking.
>She still doesn't answer.
>"Please."
>Is she upset?
>Does she know?
>Is she even real?
>Guilt weighs more heavily on you than the past six hours of action.
>The chaff is rough beneath your knees.
>Of course she's real.
>Of course she knows.
>She knows what you're too afraid to admit.
>That you wanted to break your vow. That you wanted Rebecca. That --
>"Dumbass!"
>The she-wolf's voice rings clear in your head.
>You're jerked to the side before you can even process it, led by the gun.
>It pops up and spits fire at the nearest thralls.
>The metal feels warm in your hand.
>"Talia?"
>All you get is an exasperated grunt.
>She jerks you to your feet.
>Her warm presence invades your limbs.
>You shudder, memories of Virina bubbling to the surface. The way her moonlit presence --
>"No time," her voice rings out. "Move."
>The voice is hurried, worried, demanding.
>It's Talia, alright.
>"Where?" you ask.
>Another growl; you're pointed towards the flames again.
>"Go to her."
>You can feel her trying to move you, but some part of you resists.
>"Talia, I -- she --"
>" Move!"
>You lean into the heat. The flames seem to die down.
>"You -- letting her -- die?" the she-wolf asks in your head, voice strained.
>Then it all clicks into place.
>An otherworldly evil.
>An idiot with a gun.
>And an innocent woman made to die to prove someone else's point.
>A weight drops in your stomach, but you don't let it hold you.
>The PsyScope whites out as you charge into the inferno. You brush it aside as you run.
>Embers line the ground before the blaze itself. Glowing cracks have formed in the earth.
>You feel the heat for a brief moment as your faith falters.
>But then you leap.