baronessekat | 2014 writing challenge

My sword arced as I rotated my body, aimed perfectly - a clear shot to the demon’s neck. I felt a surge of primal joy in knowing that it would hit clean and there’d be one less demon in the fray. So of course just as the blade was about to connect, the thing disappeared.

I screamed in frustrated rage and spun around to figure out where it went, only to see that the entire army that we had been engaged with was gone. Typical. As soon as the Light gained the slightest bit of advantage, the Infernal gathered up their unbroken toys and went home. They never were good losers.

I felt the surge of adrenaline wear off and I just sagged to the ground, not even caring what it was I might end up sitting in. I was getting to old for this. War is a game for the young, and at 38 I was one of the older active members of the Warriors. Maybe it was time to have a long talk with Michael about my future. Maybe.

As I sat there, staring off into space, I heard someone approach me from behind and turned to see who it was. He was dressed in a English Army Medic’s uniform from World War II. A shock of red hair stuck out from under his helmet and his warm green eyes surveyed me for damage.

“How bad are you hurt?” he asked simply, a touch of the isles in his voice. I blinked and took a moment to assess myself. There was a cut somewhere on my scalp as I felt that bleeding down the side of my face. But other than that, nothing felt broken or dislocated.

I shook my head and met Raphael’s eyes. “Just a scrape on the noggin. Just give me a compress and I’ll be good. Save your juice for those worse off.”

He reached into his medic bag and handed me a square of gauze with a chuckle. “You know, Cadenza, a scratch to you usually requires stitches or major healing in others.” He stood up as I pressed the compress to my head. “I’ll come back and check on you after I tend to others, if one of the other healers doesn’t see to you first.” I waved him off and he turned and walked over to the next Warrior.

I pressed against the cut, trying to staunch the flow and looked up again to see a BIG mass of muscle on 4 legs heading towards me. It was roughly canine in shape only the size of a pony. It was a good 4 feet at the shoulder and looked like a giant Cane Corso with more of the head of an Afghan Hound. It was surrounded by flames and scary as… well, Hell. As it should have been. It was a Hellhound after all. But luckily I recognized him so I did not actually wet myself in fear. I’ve faced down many a creature from the Pit and I have to say, Hellhounds scare the bejeezus out of me. Just not this one.

As he sat down next to me, the flames extinguished and a solid black, rather ugly looking dog with red eyes leaned against me and whined. I chuckled and scratched behind his ears. “It’s okay Fluff, I’m fine. Just a scratch. You okay?” He chuffled and looked around the field. He and I both sighed simultaneously. “Yeah. Do me a favor?” He turned his head and looked at me, head cocked inquisitively. “Go around after the Finishers and cleanse this place? If you still have the energy, that is.”

He snorted and stood back up. I reached up and patted his back leg as he shook himself and then trotted off, flames returning when he reached his destination. Pretty soon, isolated fires were springing up wherever he went, burning the corpses of both sides of the battle. Leave no body intact; that was the rule. Light or Infernal, you never left a vessel where it could be taken and used against you.

I just sat and watched the goings on that was post-battle clean up, too tired to really do anything else. Then I saw something out of the corner of my eye float by. Without even realizing I had done so, I was standing, compress dropped to the ground, gun and sword drawn and poised. I whispered a word and my Sight came to me as I focused on the thing that caught my attention, expecting a ghost, demon or some other otherworldly thing. Instead, I found myself staring at a dandelion seed floating by with a small red ladybug riding it. I checked again and there was absolutely nothing supernatural, extra-natural or preternatural about it. 100% normal natural.

I clicked the safety back on my gun and collapsed back down with a small chuckle. Maybe I was wound a bit too tight.

I watched the seed carry its passenger away to safety and just shook my head.

I really needed a new job. Or a vacation. Or both.

At the very least, I really needed a stiff drink.

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