Drakor lugs the heavy gun in his hands while walking through the dried out field of dirt ponds and yellowed grass. Ruby stains spilled onto the steps, drained of color from the beating sun. Pieces of bronze statues toppled among each other in crumbles. The two front doors were splintered apart, swindling marks among the dead wood leave an impression that more than just Delkatov was here.
“What happened here?” Kayra asks.
“Nothing good, and I can’t convince you to stay outside?”
She narrows her eyes toward him as her wings shoot out to each side. The sun reflects from behind giving an illusion of an aura.
“Fair enough. C’mon.”
His boots slide particles of wood to the side while entering the main hallway. The aroma was far worse than anything he had encountered, pungent and sour, a mixture of decaying corpses and sulfur. It punched him in his gut and tugged on his gag reflex. Kayra twisted her lips and covered her mouth with her wings. They slid together locking at the tips, forming a face mask. Drakor leans over the edge of a counter and sees the remains of what looked like a woman, he couldn’t tell with what was left of them. They continue to walk towards the double doors and push them open, a gust of every vile concoction he could imagine spilled over them both. Coughing, he turns away and looks to Kayra. Even behind her wings, he could see her face showing signs of regret.
The dining area was a portrait of macabre, body parts were slewn across the area, some partially eaten, others were gaunt layers of mummified skin attached to bone. Death was as normal as breakfast for the duo, but this much in one area was overwhelming. Kayra muffles through her mask, “What are we looking for?”
“I’m not sure, there’s no doubt he was here. There has to be a clue, something here to tell us where to go.”
Kayra steps on a bloated leg by accident, the skin was pale as chalk with purple veins sprawled out like catching a glimpse of lightning in a thunderstorm. A few insects spill out of the open top end of it and Kayra jumps away. She could hunt demons, and kill them in the most detestable ways, but the sight of insects brought her inner child out every time.
She bumps into Drakor who turns back to her, her cheeks flush and suddenly she’s embarrassed. Noticing her face turning a pink hue, he says, “We’re all scared of something.”
She doesn’t reply, she just continues to follow close behind. The next door opens to a lobby area with broken remains of a desk. Four hallways stretched out, the first of them had a solified mass of charred remains at the end. The others had more blood stains, pieces of flesh, and loose doors hanging from the frames.
Drakor searches the rooms, one by one looking for anything that might stand out. Nothing was out of the ordinary; prison mattresses with grunge-bar toilets and more remains. Blood trails led in all directions, the patients didn’t stand a chance. He sits down on a bed and leans his head back, on top of the suffocating stench was the bullying heat. He sets the gun onto the floor and revels in the releasing ache of his forearms. “Leviah, what were we meant to find?”
Kayra wanders down the next hallway, her view was the same as his. Except for one room, the door was removed, similar to the others, but there was no blood, no signs of a struggle. Next to a bed was a paint stand with globs of paint spilled onto the ground. A picture stuck out halfway from underneath the bed, the exposed corner had a smear of blood on it. Curious, she crouches down to pull it out. It gets snagged on a sharp edge of the bed frame, tearing it in half. She places the two uneven halves together to form a picture of multiple demonic looking creatures. At the top read LEGION.
“Drakor! I think I found something!”
He jumps up and runs down the hall and to his left, forgetting about his weapon. He halts upon seeing Kayra holding the torn painting. His eyes fixate on the blood smear at the bottom and he freezes, fear drills into his conscience relentlessly. “No, where did you find that! Did you tear it?”
She goes to respond and the paper dissolves into ashes in her palms. She opens her hands and looks around on the floor, “What happened to the painting? I didn’t mean to tear it, it was an acc-”
Drakor grabs her by her shoulder and begins to pull her in his direction down the hall. “S**t, this isn’t good. We have to go, we have to get out of here, now!”
A light rumble shakes the walls from outside, through the sunlight in the small windows they could see shadows passing by. Drakor picks up the pace but stops upon reaching the dining room entrance. The ground shakes under the weight of multiple foot steps, lurching in come hoards of grotesque creatures. All ranging in different sizes, different features.
Drakor panics and looks for his gun. It was back in one of the many rooms he checked. Slowly he slides out two daggers and whispers to Kayra, “Get behind me.”
Shakingly she shifts behind him, the demons begin to stampede towards him.