Snippet 1, The Dream

John’s blade cut through the first of the three men in front of him, throwing a black mist of blood in the air. He twisted and blocked another attack with his shield, shattering it in the process. Tossing the shield’s remains to the ground he lunged at the second opponent, plunging his green tinted sword into the monster’s stomach. Without warning the third charged John; knocking him off balance and pushing him to the ground, stealing the air from his lungs. Forcing his eyes open, he saw blood red skies passing above him, momentarily disturbed by flaming ballistae. With a crash the projectiles hit a nearby building, hurling burning debris in John’s direction. He scrambled to his feet and jumped out of way, gasping for air as he tried to regain his balance. Instinct made John raise his head to try and find his attacker, but instead he found his best friend, James; who charged the beast, twisting around at the last second to get behind him, then he jumped up in the air and plunged the length of his dagger into its neck. “John, get up! There are more of them pouring over the ridge to the south! Grab your sword and regroup at the well by the Watchtower!” Yelled James as he pointed towards the sword stuck from the stomach of John’s second assailant. John muttered a response and stumbled over to retrieve his weapon.

 As John pulled his weapon free he noticed a couple of things; one was that he was stained black from the blood of these demons, and two that the sword’s glow was fading, which meant that his power was fading. He knew he couldn’t go on much longer at this rate, his energy deposits were draining like sand from an hourglass. His opponents, on the other hand, hadn’t seemed even slightly phased by the strenuous fighting. They weren’t even breathing hard, or at all. Not a single drop of sweat had lay on their brow, and Instead of weary eyes staring back at him there had been dark, bottomless shadows in their place. The rest of their body was just as wretched. Their skin glowed with a red aura, with mouths full of teeth as black as the blood that flowed through their veins. Even the way they fought was upsetting. There was no caution in them, no care for their own safety. They leapt with such ferocity; they fought with a pure thirst for blood, fueled even more by a hatred for the empire John and his Best friend were fighting to defend.

He sheathed his sword and ran east towards the well-watchtower plaza to regroup with James. Buildings burned around him, destroying the town he once called home. As he approached the plaza where his best friend and some other warriors had made their stand, he saw a massive assembly of those monsters heading directly at them. He ran down the stairs as quickly as he could to try and beat the monsters to his destination. James was good, but he could never handle an army with only a few men behind him. There was only one way to ensure the safety of these men, a spell that would drain the remnants of his power. James noticed John running and let out a howl of laughter “Glad you finally make it! I thought you weren’t going to show! Come men, let’s take care of these bastards and finish this!”  John strode up to James’ side, “Stand back James, let me deal with this my way.” And with that John raised his hands to the heavens, ripping a deafening wave of lighting from the clouds above and releasing it on the oncoming horde; demolishing the army in only a matter of seconds. The men around him cheered while he dropped to the ground, exhausted from overuse of his power.

He was still conscious enough to watch the tragedy he had tried so desperately to avoid unfold right in front of his eyes. A dark mist flooded the plaza, and all around him his comrades disappeared one by one, pulled into the mist; only gone for a second before their bloodcurdling screams rang in his ears. The last of which was James, who didn’t even get the chance to scream, he simply vanished from John’s sight in a flash of light. John was now alone in the middle of the blood stained plaza. The mist began to fade, revealing the bodies that just moments before had filled the air with their last gasps of breath. From the mist a lone, dark silhouette approached. John tried desperately to stand, using what little strength he had to try and pull his sword from his sheath and defend himself. Try as he might it felt as if a force was holding him down, forcing him to his knees. He struggled for a moment longer, to no avail. An eerie, unnatural silence took the place of collapsing buildings and the sounds of war. A figure stepped out from the mist and a man’s voice broke the silence. He spoke in a low, terrifying tone,

“You and your father share the same blank expression of fear before you die, did you know that?”