Brilliant Darkness

A salmon-colored sunset poured radiant warmth over Khanos. His now forty-year-old hands quivered nervously as he counted the empty small and large brass casings that still reeked of sulfur. 

"Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five…" he continues gruffly for a few moments. "Fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-six...." 

He continues to count as he watches the sun just begin to touch the horizon over the sun-scorched prairie. Sweat creeps down the side of his head into his deep brown beard. Pooling within, it eventually begins to drip upon his holy symbol. A triangle divided into thirds houses an eye, a sword with divine light, and an escutcheon of a rifle and pistol. He knew what was to come. Even with the advantage of that, it didn’t ease his mind.

"One hundred and five, one hundred and six, one hundred and seven…"

His pile of empty casings nearly depleted and now all in a leather satchel, he pulls a black piece of cloth from his pocket and wipes himself clean. 

He takes a moment to wipe his talisman clear of sweat and dirt before continuing the last inventory of casings. 

"Two hundred and seven, two hundred and eight..."

The last casing drops from his hand into the satchel. "Two hundred and nine. We have two hundred and nine casings Brother Pilor."

Another man, no more than twenty-five years old approaches Khanos, jumping down from the top of their reinforced six-wheeled vehicle.

Slinging his ivory-colored, lever-action rifle over his shoulder, Pilor removes his leather-trimmed hat and gives it a good shake to remove the dust. A picture falls loose from the inner seam. 

Picking it up, Father Khanos inquires Brother Pilor. "Boy, you better be telling me this is your sister and her kid. Not some woman of yours and your own spawn. You know the Council will have you cast into exile or worse for breaking the tenants of relationship and bloodlines."

Snatching it from Khanos' hand, Pilor looks the picture over momentarily before positioning it back within his hat.

A woman in her early twenties with blond hair and hazel eyes is holding a young boy with hair as black as Pilor's with his golden shade eyes to match.

In a shaky voice, Pilor returns his answer, "Father Khanos, please, tell me when you have ever seen anyone else with my eye color. Of course, he's my son. I beg you not to tell the chancellors."

A deep sigh emerges through Khanos' teeth. "Son, it's not my place to judge members of the clergy."

Pilor's demeanor changes from concerned to relieved.

"However," continues Khanos. Immediately returning a sense of dread to Pilor.

"You are out here, with me. This is the last day of summer. Day two hundred and sixty-five. You do know what that means correct? You know why we are counting these empty casings that we found on the corpses of this town, yes? You do know why there are corpses and nobody else living, correct?"

In a shaky voice, Pilor replies. "Y-yes, Father Khanos. This day marks the last day of sunlight for the year. The next one hundred days will be near to total darkness. We count the casings to know how many rounds we will be able to trade for at a Quartermaster post. The bodies line the street because early awakeners from the Noxxium have swarmed this town. Nobody is living because none of us were here to save them."

Nodding with approval, Khanos returns, once more. "I cannot have your mind wandering upon those you left in the Chamber. Your focus is to prevent the spread of and eliminate any Nox we find. We are posted here. We have no more than thirty minutes of light left before these creatures begin to swarm the land. I guarantee you there are many hidden within this small town already. They're just waiting for enough darkness to get a chance to rip us apart."

Pilor gulps down the knot of unease that grew with every word from the absolute truth that Khanos exerted forth. Looking at the townsfolk who had been torn asunder, it was clear that these creatures were no normal Nox.

Father Khanos calls out towards a ruined stone chapel. “Linear Squad, what’s your status?”

A few moments pass before two males and a female wearing blackened leather dusters emerge from the chapel. One holds the corpse of a creature that appears as though it were a disfigured wolf. Clumped black fur, elongated face, almost human-like hands finished with razor-sharp claws. The creature’s maw hangs open and lifeless. Within, two rows of razor-sharp teeth flank a forked tongue.

Approaching Khanos and Pilor, the trio appears to salute as they near. Pilor looks at the creature, awe-stricken. He feels a warmth fill him from within as he looks at the creature in its lifeless, dull orbs that feel as though they stare back and through him. He almost swears he can hear a whisper being projected into his conscious. 

The whisper grows louder and louder. Almost to an audible and nearly coherent tone. The background sounds of the Linear Squad and Father Khanos fade further and further into obscurity. 

The wolf’s eyes appear to regain some color as he stares into them, trying to find the source of the noise. They flood with a dandelion yellow, nearly matching that of Pilor. The mouth begins moving ever so slightly to match the sounds of the whispers.

Warmth washes over Pilor. He cannot turn away. He feels drawn to this enticing feeling that he can neither explain, nor understand. 

He begins reaching his hand towards the mouth of the creature. “Closer.” He thinks to himself. “I must get closer. Surely, I can understand what it is saying if I were to contact it.”

Just inches short of coming into contact with it, the head snarls towards him. Mouth wide, teeth ready to tear his flesh apart. He yelps as he feels the teeth sink into his neck while lunging backward from the creature. 

Suddenly, he finds himself on his feet. 

Father Khanos’ hand grasping his shoulder firmly and shaking him while repeating, “Brother Pilor? Brother Pilor, what is wrong? Are you alright, boy?”

Drenched in sweat, Pilor looks at the lifeless corpse that now looks completely inanimate. Turning, his stomach drops. The entire Linear Squad has rifles pointed directly at him.

Father Khanos steps between them. “Stop! Stop it, you three!” 

A face full of worry and fear is clear upon Father Khanos. His vice-grip grasp once more is upon Pilor. Only now, Pilor can feel extensive quivering flow through those hands and into his bones.

“What happened?” Questions Pilor.

Khanos’ face remains the same expression. “Son, what did you see?”

Struggling to remember, Pilor grows anxious and distraught. His memories of the last few minutes feel as though they were completely erased. He cannot remember any of it. 

“S-sir,” he stammers out. “I...I don’t remember." He looks to the corpse once more. A brief flash of the creature’s mouth moving erupts from the depths of his subconscious. 

“I heard the creature whispering to me, Father.”

This response makes Khano’s jaw drop. Looking over his shoulders, he tells the squad to check the building for other corpses. It is paramount.

Upon them departing, Khanos once more looks to young Pilor. “Son, in the vision you had. Could you understand anything it said? Did it move? Did…” he pauses. “Did it bite you?”

A feeling of dread consumes Pilor as he replies. “Y-Yes, Father. It did bite me. Why do you ask?”

Looking down at the sand beneath his feet, Khanos lets loose a sigh of disappointment. “Brother Pilor, you have been marked by a Noxxium Deathsower. Even in death, these creatures are able to be inhabited by a powerful Deathsower to surveil a battlefield long after a Nox has died. You seem to have been cursed. There is only one way to lift it and save you from becoming a Nox yourself.”

Pilor feels his heart palpitate and seems like it is on the verge of exploding from within his chest. His hands become sweat-filled and clench uncontrollably.

Grasping his holy symbol, he asks Father Khanos, “What can i do?”

A warm smile emerges from Khanos before he replies. “Come, let us perform a ritual. Let us walk over to this beast and break the curse.”

The two approach the lifeless body. 

“Pilor,” begins Khanos. “Please use your holy saber to remove the eyes of this creature. That will prevent it from influencing you further.”

Pilor brandishes his silver sword which glows a vibrant from the pink, nearly set solar orb. Two quick movements and the beast no longer is able to look at him.

“Now,” continues Khanos. “Kneel before this creature and begin to state our tenets. You must absolve yourself from all worldly sins to be set free.”

Pilor does so. Kneeling before the creature and grasping his holy trigram, he begins to pray. He repeats this a few times before turning slowly towards Khanos.

The unmistakable *click* is heard of the Father’s rifle. “I am truly sorry Brother Pilor,” expels Father Khanos. “There is no cure for the Deathsower’s curse.”

A single tear is shed by both Pilor and Khanos as Pilor spreads his arms wide. Pilor focuses on the setting sun. As the last light fades, he hears an explosion of sound and his vision fades into the brilliant darkness of eternity.