Operation: Pacifica, Darkest Hour
by DeadLock the Feral (NYAR!), aka CyberPyro (deadlock@one.net)


 DeadLock stepped cautiously into the foyer.  The crisply cut grey
  marble stairs lead upwards into darkness.  Twin daggers slid from their
  leather sheaths as he walked up the forty-five degree incline.


 The stairs ended rather unexpectedly at a shallow, broad landing.
  DL felt around with his feet, finding the edge of the platform, and realized
  empty space surrounded the entire stairwell.


 "No rails, either," he grumbled.  A brief incantation and his long
  bladed daggers flared to life, fire dancing down their edges.  The
  flickering light confirmed his suspicion: the staircase wound up into the
  darkness like a marble DNA strand.



...



[time: 22 coils later]


 The stairs ended on the floor of a small room.  A grayish light
  poured through the doorway, though nothing hung on the hinges to obstruct
  his path.


 "Hmmm," thought DL aloud as he glanced into the room before him.
  The walls were made of roughly hewn lavender stone, but the floor was
  perfectly flat, smooth, and polished.  To his left, an artificial Sun of the
  brightest white burned nestled in the corner, casting its piercing rays for
  all to see.  To his right, another Sun of the darkest blackness smoldered.
  Diagonally from the bright and dark suns were their brothers, casting rays
  back at them.


 DL looked up at the ceiling: four by four by four yard blocks of
  stone formed a checker board pattern.  In defiance of physics, the blocks
  maintained the scarcest contact at their corners to remain aloft. The
  bright, afternoon sky of Pacifica could be seen through the negative space
  left in the blocks' pattern.


 The Maenad looked down at the floor, marveling at the crisscrossing
  patterns the quad suns created.  The absolutes of light, darkness, and gray
  populated the area, locking in an intricate pattern.


 He stepped from the platform and into the room, feeling the stone
  behind him crumble to dust as rubble rained down on to the stairs.  He had
  to find an exit to this room and a path down to the lower levels now.  Chris
  couldn't be left undefended for long before...


 Directly across from DeadLock the wall cracked, then slid open to
  reveal a hideous, black Thanatin.  It hobbled out into the surreal, harsh
  patterns of black, white, and gray of the room.  In its deformed hands it
  held a mockery of the katana and wakizashi, honorable and sacred weapons of
  Ancient Samurai.


 DL sheathed his daggers and drew his Claymore with the long, slow
  scrape of metal against metal.  The all-too-raw memories of Chris on the
  Lyran's table erupted in his mind, bringing a tide of burning rage with it.
  Memories of Caisoko Hiroshi's selfless sacrifice to defend the TRES HQ
  against the X'hirjq onslaught, her Honor, her Samurai's weapons were mocked
  as the Thanatin came to a halt in a square of blackness, shaking its weapons
  like a children's toys and making obscene gestures.


 Anger, pure and wrathful, surged past its boundaries and flooded
  DL's mind.  His attention locked on the Thanatin.  It must die.  Painfully.
  It must be eradicated from the world lest its foul kind continue to exist!


 "Grah!" it bellowed, thrusting its hips suggestively and
  brandishing its weapons.


 "Don't you think those blades are a tad misplaced?" demanded DL.
  Flame rippled over his body the anger began to flow.  "Shouldn't they have
  been used to sever that pathetic head of yours for mounting in a Lyran
  toilet?"


 The Thanatin howled in fury and charged.  It flared into starkest
  relief to cross a white zone, then disappeared into inky blackness.  DL's
  eyes narrowed as he waited.


 The monster's katana rang against his Claymore.  Sparks showered
  between the two.  DL moved sharply to the side, the wakizashi slicing air.
  The Maenad jump-pivoted on one foot, bringing his sword down with all his
  might and momentum towards the creature's skull.


 Metal-against-metal echoed from the walls, the thanatin bringing
  its wakizashi up for defense.  Its katana arrived a split second later to
  hold off the killing weapon.


 The Feral snarled as he applied all his leverage against his
  smaller opponent, intent on cleaving its skull.


 "You poor, twisted creature!  You don't even know what you are!"
  croaked the beast, its words malformed by tumors dotting its tongue and
  throat.


 "At least my existence is my own, perverted creature!"  The beast
  feigned a lunge, freed its katana from the locked swords, and swung at DL's
  lower leg.


 "Your existence is nothing but a mockery of evolution!  I have my
  own soul and am my own master, unlike the bloated pet that you've become!"
  DL's enemy chided, intending to distract him with the absurd.


 The trick didn't work; DL hopped above the blade's path, letting it
  bite into the floor.  In response, the Maenad thrust against his enemy's
  blade with all his strength.  The Thanatin lost the contest of physics and
  toppled backwards, tucking into a roll.  The Jihaddi charged, only to have
  the monster make a broad sweep at his legs.


 DL rolled with the trip, came up standing in a black square.  His
  enemy, likewise in a black square, did a hand-spring and landed on its feet.


 "ENOUGH!" snarled the monster.


 "DIE!!" raged DL, charging the creature.  He ran a few feet, then
  jumped at the creature, his blade poised to rip the creature through the
  center.  Blood rushed into his mouth as a wakizashi bit into his chest,
  piercing between his ribs.


 His Claymore clattered to the ground, both his hands grabbing the
  mockery of a weapon.  A guttural snarl issued from his throat as he tore the
  weapon from his chest and turned to face his enemy.


 "Want this back?" he demanded.  Sensing extreme danger, the
  Thanatin hopped away from him.  DL tossed the wakizashi, magical words
  leaving his throat.


 The blade spun through the air, every turn spawning more of its
  kind until a veritable cyclone of blades hissed towards his enemy.
  Surprisingly, the creature managed to knock several of the blades away with
  its mis-shapen hands before one found a mark.  The blade sliced deeply into
  its thigh, sending a spurt of lavender blood splashing across the floor.


 "Aaarghh!" screamed the creature as it fell to one knee, its
  features mostly obscured by the black square.  The Maenad charged, launching
  through the air feet from his opponent.  His knee connected solidly on what
  remained of the beast's sternum, knocking the wind from it and sending it
  flying across the battlefield.  It came to rest directly beneath one of the
  black suns.


 DL held out his hand, telekinesing his Claymore to a waiting
  gauntlet.  He stared hard at the black sun, found the outline of his
  opponent in the inky air, and charged.


 "You want to play rough?  I'll SHOW you rough!" screamed the
  mockery of humanity.  A giant column of blackness flew from its claws,
  striking the Maenad dead-center.  DL flew backwards through the air, his
  sword departing from his stunned grasp.  A handful of seconds later he
  landed hard in a white square on the floor, flipped over, then landed face
  down.


 The gibbering creature strode across the floor, laughing in glee to
  itself.  Its opponent got its feet quickly, rage driving it.


 "Oh, really?" mocked DeadLock as flames howled around his body.


 "REALLY!" laughed the creature, black flames swirling around its
  body, its eyes burning a blood red.  It kicked the Claymore hard as it came
  to rest in a gray square.  The sword slid across the floor, teetered on the
  edge of the stairwell's shaft, then plummeted into darkness.


 DL jabbed his fingers at his enemy.  Sheets of roiling fire sizzled
  across the space between them, catching the creature unprepared.  The flames
  plucked it from its feet, tumbled it over several times, and dropped it into
  another gray square.


 It got to one knee, face bubbling from third degree burns, and
  raised a column of blackness to protect itself.  DeadLock held his fiery
  palms open to the ceiling at waist level, then snapped them closed.


 Fireballs exploded from the floor around the Thanatin.  The first
  few tore down its defensive wall, then batted it about like a rag doll
  before slamming it into a rough-hewn wall as its clothes caught fire.


 The sizzling creature collapsed into a gray square, inert.  The
  Maenad stalked across the floor, intent on killing it.


 Incredibly, the Thanatin moved!  It quickly stood, its flesh re-
  knitting itself and healing at an incredible rate.  With a snarl the monster
  tossed its katana and wakizashi from its sides and crossed its arms.


 Shadowy plumes of smoke puffed from its fingers until they formed a
  nine inch long, narrow cone on each finger tip.  The smoke solidified into a
  mockery of the Big Ass Claws[tm] given only to Maenads.


 "DIE NOW, YOU WILL, KNOCKER!" screeched the Thanatin.


 "HOW *DARE* YOU?!?!" demanded an incredulous DeadLock, the cords on
  his hands and arm standing out as his fingers curled.  Fiery tendrils
  extended from his finger tips and solidified into Claws[tm].


 "DARE I?  MAENAD I AM[TM]!  NYAR!"


 "NYAR!!" screamed DeadLock in challenge, the Holy Warp Spasm
  seizing his being.  The mock-maenad charged, the real one following a split
  second later.


 The two met at a gray square, Claws[tm] whistling as they attacked.
  DeadLock struck out with one claw at his enemy's chest, intent on ripping it
  open, and held his left up to block an attack.  His right Claw[tm] passed
  through the like-wise striking mock-claw of his enemy.  The left Claws[tm]
  met, clattering against one another before passing through one another.


 DeadLock's hands erupted in blood, his enemy's claws ripping his
  flesh open.  Simultaneously, he heard the satisfying *RIP* as his Claws[tm]
  tearing armor, cloth, flesh, and muscle asunder.  The mote of satisfaction
  was short lived, pain flooding through his body in registration of his
  enemy's attack's success.


 The two combatants bent over, holding their chests in pain,
  ignoring each other.  DL was the first to recover, snarling for vengeance.
  The back of his hand connected soundly with the thanatin's temple, echoing
  from wall to wall with a resounding *crack!*


 His enemy fell to the side, coming to rest in a black square.  The
  Feral fell to one knee in a white square, his physical body dissolving into
  liquid, living fire.  His enemy sprouted four-foot long claws and made to
  slash at him.


 "NYAR!"  DeadLock launched through the air at his enemy like a
  giant fire bolt.  He struck dead-center and toppled the foe.  A fiery knee
  crushed into the thanatin's soft stomach, squishing flesh and cracking
  bones.  Too late, he realized this attack was anticipated.


 Searing, intense pain shot through DL's abdomen in ten places.  His
  enemy's claws pushed deeper into him, intent on ripping him apart.  The
  Maenad shifted his weight onto his knees, held his Claws[tm] tip to tip and
  fell forward.


 His palms slapped dully against the floor, Owsenite2 Claws[tm]
  ripping through the thanatin's sides.  In response, the beast moaned in
  pain, ceasing its attack on DL's abdomen.


 The two rolled apart, holding their wounds and gathering the last
  of their strength for final rounds of combat.  Each healed the least
  grievous wounds in flares of fire or darkness.


 "Die at my Claws[tm], you will!" snarled DeadLock.


 "NYAR!" replied his opponent, springing from its crouched position.
  The two met mid-air.  Thumb-claws punctured each of DL's shoulders as he dug
  Claws[tm] into the Thanatin's back, locked his knee, and fell down.  Tail
  bone met locked knee and shattered.  The Feral yanked his Claws[tm] free
  with a howl of pain, his opponent's blood dripping on him, before he shoved
  hard making his opponent flop onto the floor.


 His shoulders were useless now, an agony to move or will into
  useful action.  The foul perversion struggled to move, its back and upper
  legs flaring in pain.  Magical energy flew from DL's Claws[tm], striking the
  Thanatin squarely in jaw.  Teeth clattered across the floor as it collapsed
  against a rough-hewn wall, leaving a thick trail of blood as it slid towards
  the floor.


 DL tried to collapse to all fours, but found his shoulders unable
  to support him and smacked face-first into the floor.  Blood flooded into
  his mouth before he spit it out.  Were there teeth in that mouthful?


 The combatants laid on their sides in gray squares, trying to find
  the strength to fight.


 "Destroy you, I will!" snarled DeadLock, sucking up the last of his
  reserves for a final attack.  Before he could respond the thanatin was upon
  him, claws digging into his shoulders again and ripping down the length of
  his arms.  Muscle and cartilage tore apart, veins and arteries opened, blood
  spurted everywhere.


 DL choked on blood as life began to fade away.  Thick, red streams
  of blood flowed from his ruined arms.  No!  This bastard monster of the
  Lyrans would *NOT* win!


 Fire exploded around DeadLock, sending the thanatin flying before
  it could attack again.  It squealed in agony as fire carbonized parts of its
  flesh.  A split second later it slammed into the wall, fell, and came to
  rest in a white square.


 The Feral fell backwards, cracking his head hard in a black square.
  Blackness began to loom in his consciousness, not in a good way either.  His
  descent stopped, the noise of stone cracking drawing his attention.  This
  was something important.


 Three figures hobbled from the opening in the wall, laughing
  merrily and talking amongst themselves.  DL flopped his head over to look at
  them.  His heart sank, a desperate urge to kill rising in him.  Thanatins
  approached him.


 "Well, looks like our two *spit* Maenads here saved us all the
  trouble!" cackled their leader as he produced a perverse set of Claws[tm].
  His two companions did likewise, laughing as impotent rage built within
  DeadLock.


 "We will enjoy adding your hides to our collection," laughed
  another, closing in.


 'What?' thought DL through the haze of pain.  'Maenad*S*!?!?'
  Suddenly, understanding hit him.  The rage.  The attacks, the counters.
  They were all too perfect, too well done.  Only one person could have done
  this.


 "No..." croaked DeadLock, his will to live fading away.  He
  couldn't have done this thing!  NO!


 "no..no....no.." came to his ears.  Blackblood.  His closest friend
  and ally.  Denial shattered, leaving him with the cold reality: he had
  almost killed his friend.  They were both dead men, too weak to stave off
  the claws of these Thanatins.


 "C'mon, just have the balls to look at one another,"  one of the
  twisted creatures grabbed DL's head, roughly turning it to look into the
  face of his friend who was likewise forced to look.  The Ferals wept,
  remorse sapping what will they had left.


 "Awww ... it's such a shame.  You can almost kill each other, but
  not look at your own dirty woork," chided one of thanatin holding
  BlackBlood's head.


 "I don't suppose you recognize us, do you?" leered the lead
  thanatin, looking at each of his victims in turn.  He clacked his Claws[tm]
  together, mocking laughter coming from his deformed throat.


 "Clive?" asked DeadLock, not believing this could be one of the
  three Maenads who disappeared during Operation: Phoenix.


 "None other," he giggled, "and my fellows: Torquemada and Slaine."
  BlackBlood and DeadLock groaned, the defeat too much to take.


...




 Elsewhere in the Lyran Fortress, sitting on a throne of pure
  obsidian, Charn'El laughed with merriment and glee.  His plan had succeeded
  even better than he had hoped!


 Cold laughter echoed from wall to wall as the High Mage prepared to
  watch two of his enemies' deaths.



- DLtF(NYAR!)
Copyright, Pyrokinetic Productions (1997)