I tried to sense the link this undead shared with her master. There was link, buried deep underneath the creature's own Essence. I was dealing with a stronger opponent, and had no way of fighting back, save for the rusty sword I s.n.a.t.c.hed from one of the puppets earlier.

The banshee dived at me once more, screaming her lungs out. I rolled to the side but the sound wave caught me and propelled me backwards. My back hit something and I felt the air forcefully leave my lungs. I fell down, panting. My head started throbbing. I already started feeling the exhaustion from the previous fight against the horde. I wouldn't last long against this one.

Zoey had fallen unconscious in the circle of light. The banshee hadn't bothered with her.

'Those undead will come back you know,' Eva's faint voice told me.

'I can't even deal with this one,' I replied. 'Do you know how we can repel a banshee by any chance?'

Silence.

'Oy, Eva! Don't disappear on me like this!'

Nothing but a faint sigh reached my consciousness.

The banshee had flown full circle and was charging me right now. I could tell she was going for another shriek that would knock all senses out of me. I was preparing to lunge to the side but the scream didn't come. Instead, the ghastly creature flew right at me and landed a heavy punch at my temple.

I felt her foreign energy seep inside my brain. I heard her screams deep within me. Pain, suffering, and death surrounded me. I held my head and screamed. Then I fell to my knees and my eye closed.

"Hey," a gentle voice called out to me. "Wake up! It's not your time yet."

I opened my eye. I was in a dimly lit cave. A chandelier, crudely attached to the side of the cave, was the only source of light. I tried to move but the rattling of chains made me realize I was restrained. I was held against a wall, naked. My hands and feet were bound. I was beautifully crucified.

To make matters worse, my head throbbed. I brought my tongue to my lips and realized they were cracked, dehydrated. How long was I asleep?

"Ah, you're awake," the necromancer's voice reached my ears. "Your friend had escaped," he said. "You were sent by those nasty Children after all!"

"Friend?" I asked. My voice was so hoa.r.s.e I didn't even recognize it.

"You'll soon talk," the necromancer said. "My sweet Ofelia brought you here alive for this purpose. What do the Children want with me?"

"I don't know what the f.u.c.k you're talking about," I said. "Did mere children beat you?"

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"Open the door," the necromancer ordered some shadowy figure beside him. The metallic door creaked open. A short, stout man appeared under the candlelight. I was honestly taken aback by this. I expected the mighty necromancer to be a bit more intimidating.

The man I had in front me was balding, his three day beard had a grayish tint to it, suggesting his age. He wore a long black robe that rustled and swept the floor as he moved.

"You've caused quite the ruckus back there," he told me. "But you couldn't possibly fight my sweet Ofelia. Tell me what the Children want with me, and I'll grant you a painless death."

"I don't know any children," I said.

"Marcus," the necromancer called out to the shadowy figure that was still standing outside. "Teach this brat a lesson about honesty."

The shadowy figure growled then advanced toward me with heavy steps. The candlelight had finally brought his tall figure to light. He was a big brawny corpse. He wore a pair of withered gray trousers. His chest was bare. I noticed some crude st.i.tching work on his neck and chest. This corpse had seen better days.

The puppet called Marcus grunted and walked in front of me. I knew what was coming, but I wasn't prepared for it anyway. My head hurt and any punch would send a jolt of pain to remind me to stay still. That was exactly what happened. I m.u.f.fled my groans however. I wouldn't give this old creep the satisfaction of seeing me suffer.

Another punch followed, then another, then another. Each one felt like a brick had been smashed against the back of my head. Eva had gone silent. The Fragment of time was locked and Dif decided to disappear on me once more. I was alone in this, dealing with a head splitting headache and hard punches from a poorly st.i.tched corpse.

"Punches don't work on this one," the necromancer said. "Perhaps we should get a bit more… creative."

The grin on the old man's face sent s.h.i.+vers down my spine. I wasn't ready for more suffering. I thought I had had my share of imprisonment and torture. What is it with old men and torturing the young anyway?

"Ofelia," the old man called out.

The banshee soon sprung up from beneath the ground. She looked at me with her hollow eyes. Her non-existent lower jaw creeped me out to tell you the truth. She was wearing a torn white dress, which had black spots everywhere. She flew toward me. Her cold, muddy hands touched my head. I heard her scream at first then I heard other people wail and cry. My head throbbed even more and the pain became unbearable. I screamed in turn. Then I felt myself losing consciousness.

"Let him mull this over." I heard the necromancer say as he beckoned his gooneys to follow him. My eye closed and I was bathed in darkness once more.

The smell of death surrounded me. People screamed, some cried, and some wailed. I saw a man engulfed in fire, running wildly around, trying to fight the flames that devoured him.

"You must remember," I heard a gentle voice call out to me. "You can't escape your past forever."

"Who's there?" I yelled. I looked around, left and right, up and down. There was no sign of the woman who'd just spoken to me.

"Remember who you are Myles. It's the only way out of this!"

I looked around me once more. There were too many dead people to count. The live ones mourned their dead. Their houses had burned and their life had changed, forever.

"Hey," a man's voice this time called out to me. "You alright?"

I glanced at the person to my left. I had just realized that my left eye was back in place.

Where am I was the question I wanted to ask, but I knew better. I was again dreaming of my past. This episode of my life filled me with dread. I didn't want to explore it, I could tell. That voice asked me to face the past. Perhaps she was right. There were obvious consequences to my previous actions and my past. I was paying for them now and didn't even understand why.

"Yeah," I answered the man who was still eyeing me with intrigue.

"The captain wants a word," the man said. "I suggest you go now. He doesn't like to be ignored, you know."

I nodded and headed for the tents outside the village. We were in a village by the way. My memory started coming back now. We'd just raided it and repelled the Auruun forces. Our job was to hold this strategic place until reinforcements arrived.

I knew what was waiting for the remaining people of this village. Those who died were actually blessed. The able men will tirelessly work for the captain. Young women will be pa.s.sed on to lieutenants and their men. Children will either be made into soldiers or executed. The captain didn't like to have more mouths to feed.

I was in a small alley when the sound of a girl screaming caught my attention.

"Please," she said. She was obviously begging my men to leave her alone.

'Not a chance,'

I thought. They'd been fighting for days. They were like rabid dogs now. Any woman would do.

"Shut yer trap," a man answered. I heard him slap her and she moaned in answer. Oh she shouldn't have done that.

"Please, you don't have to do this!" she said.

There was no point in begging actually. She should just accept the inevitable and get on with it. I was about to keep going for the captain's tent when I heard one of the men scream in agony.

"That b.i.t.c.h bit me!" he cried out. "I'll show ya!" I heard another slap then a scream. This time it wasn't the girl's.

"You b.i.t.c.h!" one of the men yelled. "What did you do?"

I followed the sound of the girl struggling, and my men, two by the sound of it, teaching her some manners. Their voices led me to a small wooden house that hadn't been consumed by the flames. I got in.

I saw a young girl, long black hair, dark skin and dark eyes. Her thighs were ample and to die for. One of my men had her pinned on a table while she struggled. The other lay on the ground, in a pool of blood. Upon closer inspection, I realized that his p.r.i.c.k had been cut off.

I looked at the girl and my man struggling against her. His right arm was bleeding. I looked at the girl and realized she was holding a hunting knife. I couldn't help but smile. I liked fighters.

"What's going on here?" I asked.

Both of them hadn't noticed me when I got in. They were both struggling to save their lives anyway. My man looked at me, his eyes filled with fear. Then the girl stabbed him in the neck. Blood spurted out of his mouth and he rigidly fell to the ground.

The girl stood, knife in hand, looking at me with ferocious eyes. Her torn clothes revealed milky white b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her face was smeared in blood. Her wet hair was sticking to her forehead. I couldn't help but admire her resolve.

"You want to fight me too?" I asked.

She screamed then dashed toward me. I only stepped to the right and tripped her. She fell, face first, to the ground.

"The men you killed were useless," I told her. "I won't hurt you, but my captain might want revenge for the men you killed. You either follow my advice, or die after every man in this camp has a go at you. What do you say?"