Sunkiller

Tendrils writhing from fresh corpses slowly spread from the temple ground. The eyes of the victims seemingly ripped out by either His hand or by their own. Horrors of unimaginable terror must have assailed their minds as the vines burst through every wound. He appeared when the Moon eclipsed the Sun. Uncomfortably tall, the ghoulish apparition wielded blackened daggers as long as swords, almost scraping the ground as he drifted amongst abandoned streets. A hauntingly tall spirit from the dark recess of a nocturnal sky, he moved in absolute silence and never announced his assassinations. Blood caked wrappings over lanky appendages swishing in sinister silence, no malefic eyes or demonic facade could be observed under His cowl. How could I know for sure though? I could only stand to glance for a horrific moment before the pits of my stomach lurched from abject terror. 

The pious men were the targets of his malice. Hunting. Seeking. Killing. Seeking again. Holy men who beckoned the grace of the Light. I used to think they were heroes, the men of good and righteousness who could do no harm, could heal any wound of body or soul, and would save us from the original sins of our Fathers… but that was before He came. For reasons I fear I am not privy to know, this shadowy figure never killed the townsfolk. It almost seemed as if He could not see us at all. Or if He did, we were not the concern of his unholy crusade. At least, not yet. No child was slain nor woman was harmed. Most common men were still untouched by the macabre specter that sauntered through the town. 

When the moon reached the zenith of the eclipse, like every time before, we did what we had always done. We shepherded ourselves into our humble homes and read from the Scripture to resolve our faith. Even with the daytime darkness, we still held fast to our belief in the Light. We held no fear in our devout hearts that the darkness would linger. Hours passed yet the Moon did not move. There was a growing sense of unease amongst the townsfolk. It continued to hang itself before the Sun as if to defy the natural order of the Heavens. We felt it then, just as we still feel it these days later. An unnatural cold which chills my soul to its core. Hearth fires did nothing to lift the spiritual permafrost the Moon had imposed upon us. Bundles of fur and wool blankets provided even less comfort even when my family huddled together. Trembling hands failing desperately to remain calm. Light, forgive me, I even attempted to warm myself with liquor and ale but it foolishly left me more anxious, more terrified of what was out there.

With great care I crept to the second floor of our hovel, instinctually scared that my unworthy footsteps would harken doom upon my family. I know I need not worry, as this Nocturnal Demon had passed by numerous times without a hesitant pause or murderous inquiry. I kept low and reached the northern window, where I could clearly see our most holy temple of Light. A sight I desperately needed to ensure my faith would not fail me during our extended nightmare. But when I saw the defilement for myself, I felt as if my very soul had been eviscerated by his evil blades. The shining white marble and glorious golden pillars that lifted the divine domed ceiling were infested with massive, vine-like tendrils similar to the ones growing from the corpses of his unfortunate hosts. Statues of long forgotten apostles and revered heroes were decapitated with smaller vines holding their pierced heads as if in open defiance to the Sun God himself. 

Curiously, the encroaching evil stopped before the other houses near the temple, they steered clear of the townsquare and its fountains, only seeking to touch the bodies of holy men who were cut down in the streets while attempting to escape the calamity which befell them.

Suddenly, without warning, a bolt of blinding light raced towards the infestation and exploded with extreme radiance. A screech unlike any sound a mortal being could ever make reverberated across the town, my own ears begging for this to end. I raced down the stairs to my petrified family, hands clasped to my head. By the Light they were ok, but all of us, myself included, could not contain the sobbing that leaked from terror widened eyes. For reasons I don't know, I found myself walking to the door with trembling steps. Whatever possessed my curiosity that day would make me the chronicler of this celestial conflict. 

Another bright bolt shot upward this time, reaching high into the gloomy sky as if it sought to pierce the moon itself. It burst forth in a brilliant light illuminating the entire town. No shadow could hide from awesome radiance. The dark monster screeched again, his unholy echoes bellowing from inside the halls of the all consumed temple. 

A single figure, larger than any man I’ve ever seen and clad from head to toe in gleaming, nigh impenetrable plate armor, strode across the muddied cobblestone towards our desecrated temple. In his left hand he displayed a gold and white banner with our holy symbol of the Sun embossed with golden thread. In his other hand, his polished gauntlet held forth a poleaxe of immeasurable heft. Its wooden shaft affixed with a massive ax head in the shape of the same holy sun symbol, an impaling tip, and a spiked hammer face on the other side of the ax head. 

I desperately tried to recall every hymn, every legend, any far fetched tale of a gleaming golden knight who commanded Light as if it were bolts of lightning. I wondered though, with a heart still smothered in fear from our murderous moon summoned guest; is this apparent challenger a hero or another dominus of sorts? Why would our meager town be the battleground of such a momentous battle? Surely we were not worthy of two higher powers to fight over us. However, our shadowy specter was fear incarnate, so perhaps all I could do in such desperation was pray our salvation had come to save us.

Our brave knight approached the foot of the temple, where ravenous black vines swarming like voracious serpents lashed out. But no vine would touch this holy warrior for it seemed as if he radiated with a sort of protective aura. Still, the vines continued to lash out with vicious hate until the Knight thrust his standard in the ground before him. Hiis declaration of dominance finally breaking the concentrated evil controlling the vines. They slowly slithered back and retreated to the inside of the temple, revealing a gruesome cache of skeletal remains still adorned with their unblemished holy ensemble. 

Pointing his poleax to the temple doors, the golden knight finally broke his mysterious silence, speaking with a commanding deepness like thunder heralding a storm's arrival.

“Sunkiller. You have been found wanted. Exit my desecrated domain. It is not yours to lay claim!”

His gaze from under his intimidating helmet was unwavering. His eyes were singular in their focus, drilling deep into the temple as if he could see through the doors right into the sunken cowl of the midnight monster. For a few moments, nothing happened. The air was still with tension, the massive vines which had swallowed the pillars pulsed softly and grew slower and slower. Where was our murderous lord at? What shadows was he hiding in? As my mind grew into a frenzy of questions, I witnessed the dark apparition slowly saunter from the pitch black depths of the temple. There was no subterfuge to be seen from him. No stalking of shadows in hopes of ambushing the Knight, who continued to stay motionless; mighty weapon pointing continuously at the approaching specter. It stopped at the edge of withdrawn vines, radiating with his own dark aura of death and evil. It raised its long, thin appendage and pointed with a gaunt finger at the knight, speaking to him.

“Too much. Unchecked. Balance is broken.” It spoke with a voice that sounded like bones grinding to dust. Each word and syllable felt like maggots squirming in my mind.

Our angelic champion responded with action and cleaved the shadowy specter with magnificent might. But the specter did not die, as his cleaved torso coalesced with dark magic to reform his visage. The Knight thrust with violent fury into the chest of the fiend where a heart would lie in any mortal man, but it only passed through again. Now pressing the attack with unrestrained fury, our champion swung in deadly arcs time and time again, only to see the apparition still standing; blackened smoke refastening after every swipe.

Unfortunately, the golden knight's furious focus would be his fatal flaw. I saw them materialize from darkened streets, four more gangly moon summoned monsters descending upon him. I couldn't warn him, my entire body petrified from the magnitude of what I was witnessing. As they gathered behind the unchecked rear of our frenzied crusader, a pained cry spewed from the creature who’s fury the knight had garnered. In his ruinous pause two seized his arms, nocturnal knives slicing tendons of the wrist, rendering weapon and magic useless. The other two made swift incisions to the ankle, our doomed hero had dropped to his knees. With arms stretched outward, all five shadowy beings drove their knives through his back, passing through the armor as if it were nothing more than shoddy lenin. 

I saw now how a hero dies. Not in glorious battle, no last stand of unfathomable bravery, but in silent defeat. What remaining faith that flickered in my feeble heart was now extinguished. 

The scavenous vines claimed our fallen hero and dragged the body back into the desecrated den of evil. I do not recall what happened next for soon after, everything went black and I awoke after Light knew how long. My home was shattered to splinters as was every other hovel in our town. I stumbled in confusion towards a reddened rag that blew weakly with the deathly wind. It was my daughter's scarf, or atleast a scrap of what remained. I attempted to pry the pulsating vines to free the scarf in hopes my family was still alive underneath. But the pain in my arm was agonizing. Looking down I saw veins pumping with pitch black blood to the beat of my fearful heart. I could do nothing for them now. 

As if the corrupted consciousness of the vines could listen to my deepest fears, their coils unwound to reveal the mangled remains of my family; viscera pooling under crushed corpses. Miniature vines grew from the fractured bones like maggots bursting forth from rotten meat.

So I ran. I was not in control of myself after that haunting scene. I only remember running with all due haste, ignoring the pain in my cursed arm or screaming of my lungs as I ran as hard and fast as I could away from the desolation of my home. I finally came to a stop when my legs refused to carry me any further, instinct giving way to terror and the unrelenting repetition of the unholy calamity I bore witness too.  

I looked back and saw in the distance all five of the shadowy apparitions standing atop the road that lead to the only town I have ever known. They did not give chase nor did they seem to want my capture. But I couldn't tear my eyes away! They stood together, as if five fingers of Doom itself were rising from the depths of the abyss. After what felt like an eternity, I finally ripped my gaze from the demonic delegation and ran until I reached the end of this land.

This is my tale I am burdened to tell until the end of my days. I lost everything during those unholy days where the Moon blackened the Sun and harkned the doom of all I knew. The sky spins again, as if the nightmare never happened, but I won't forget. I can never forget. Do what you will with this story my friends. Should you choose to remain ignorant to what I said or foolishly find inspiration for delusional heroics, then go. Go and join the corpses of my family and throw your life away to the vines, if they still remain.

The Moon will eclipse the sun soon and they will come again. They are the beasts of darkness. 

Sunkillers.