Chapter 32: Pure Rage

“Father, please—” Jaenor held back his tears, but they wouldn’t stop.

“Listen to me.” Garrick’s grip tightened on his son’s hand. “I see something in you, boy. Something that scares me and makes me proud at the same time. You have a fire inside you that burns brighter than other men. Don’t let it consume you.”

Jaenor didn’t understand what his father meant, but he nodded anyway. “I promise.”

Garrick’s breathing got even weaker. His eyes started to close. “I love you both,” he whispered. “I’ve been… so happy…”

Then his hand went limp in Jaenor’s grip.

Rosa’s sob echoed off the stone walls.

Jaenor felt like his heart was breaking. This man had been everything to him—father, teacher, friend. Now he was gone, and the world felt empty.

Rosa was crying, holding her dead husband. Just a while before they were laughing, shared a cup of ale and now he was lying dead before her. The reality of the situation fell hard on her.

Both of them were devastated, in the dark empty space.

But their grief was cut short by a new sound.

GRRRRRRll!!

A low growl came from the darkness at the end of the alley. Heavy footsteps approached, and claws scraped against stone.

“No,” Jaenor breathed.

A fiend stepped into their hiding place. This one was different from the others—bigger, with scars across its iron-grey skin. Its four extra arms moved like spider legs, and its long mouth was full of teeth like broken glass.

The creature looked down at them and made a sound like laughter. It was a horrible sound, like nails on stone mixed with a dying animal’s cry.

Rosa looked up at the monster, her eyes wide with terror. She still held her dead husband’s hand, unable to let go.

The fiend reached out with one of its claws and touched Rosa’s cheek. She trembled but didn’t move. The creature’s claws pressed against her cheek, it was making her shiver; there was something evil about it that made Jaenor’s skin crawl.

Jaenor quickly rose to his feet and tried to fight off the fiend but was overpowered quickly.

The fiend grabbed Jaenor by the throat and lifted him off the ground. Jaenor’s feet kicked at empty air as the creature’s grip tightened. He could barely breathe, and black spots danced in front of his eyes.

The monster made that horrible laughing sound again. It was enjoying the desperate struggle, and its eyes were on Rosa; its malicious intent was obvious.

Its other claws moved toward Rosa, touching her face, her hair, and her shoulder. One claw caught the edge of her dress and lifted it slightly.

Jaenor saw the fear in his mother’s eyes. He saw how the creature was enjoying her terror, how it was taking its time. The fiend wanted to hurt her, wanted to make her suffer.

Something inside Jaenor snapped.

Rage filled him like fire in his veins.

“Taking your filthy claws off her, you fucking piece of shit!!!” He roared.

A red haze flickered around the edges of his vision, like flames dancing in the wind. He had felt this before, in moments of great anger or fear, but never this strong.

With strength he didn’t know he had, Jaenor grabbed the fiend’s wrist and pulled himself up. His feet found the creature’s chest, and he kicked as hard as he could. His boot struck the fiend’s face with a sound like breaking bone.

He kept kicking on the face until it flinched.

The creature let go of him, stumbling backward.

Jaenor hit the ground hard but rolled to his feet. The red haze was stronger now, pulsing around him like a living thing.

His hand found a loose stone from the wall.

Without thinking, he leaped at the fiend and brought the stone down on its head. The creature tried to fight back, but Jaenor was faster. He struck again and again, the stone cracking against the fiend’s skull.

The red haze flickered brighter with each blow. The creature’s horrible laughter turned to screams, then to silence.

Black blood splattered the walls, and still Jaenor kept hitting.

“Die!” he screamed, his voice raw with rage.

“Die, you disgusting fuck!!!”

The fiend’s head caved in with a wet crunch. Its body went still, but Jaenor didn’t stop. He kept hitting until the stone broke apart in his hands, until there was nothing left but pulp and bone.

Finally, he stopped.

The red haze faded, and he fell to his knees beside the dead creature. His hands were covered in black blood, and his whole body shook.

Rosa crawled over to him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “It’s over,” she whispered. “It’s over, my son.”

But Jaenor stared at his bloody hands and wondered what he was becoming. The fire his father had warned him about was growing stronger, and he didn’t know if he could control it much longer.

At the center, Morgana and Darian cleared all of the fiends, and Valara also joined with her, though she was suspicious of Morgana’s intention.

The tide of battle began to turn, but the cost had already been terrible.

Half the village lay in ruins, and the cobblestones ran red with the blood of the innocent. The wedding feast had become a funeral pyre, and the age of peace that had blessed Frostvale for so long was ending in fire and screams.

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