Lilith's Blessing

Chaos engulfed the city as the bombardment continued. When it ceased, gunfire erupted from the compromised eastern wall. Black-clad invaders poured through the open gap, firing at anything that moved—lobbing grenades into windows. Desperate people hid, scrambling from the relentless gunfire.

Trevor found himself in an alleyway, surrounded by purple steam. He touched his chest, ran fingers through his dreads, "What fu....."

A volley of bullets cracked and whipped, churning up bits of concrete upon impact, forcing Trevor to duck. Two men stood at the end of the alley, guns raised. One reloaded as the other covered while the rest of the platoon moved past the alley.

The two gunmen followed their squad, continuing their bloody rampage through the city. Trevor peeked from his hiding spot. Blood splattered against the wall with lifeless bodies beneath it. A switch flipped. Trevor’s mind went unconscious. His body moved at incredible speed without input. Fisa, bulala, fisa, bulala. Fisa, bulala, fisa, bulala, repeated in his mind as he stalked the platoon, mimicking their movements.

Trevor hid in the shadows as the seven-man platoon formed a checkpoint. The men settled in, covering their sectors of fire. A mixed group of wall guards and soldiers attempted to dislodge the checkpoint, but failed under effective mortar fire.

The checkpoint turned into a supply depot filled with enemy soldiers. They used it as a staging ground to push further into the city. The well-trained men covered their sectors, shooting at anything not in their uniform.

Like watching a movie in the first person, Trevor was not in control. He fought the darkness that tried to pull him deeper. And for a second, he gained control of his body. He looked at his hands, each held a weapon. Where did he pick them up? He wondered as he inspected the long curved sword in his left hand and the long handle ax in his right.

The platoon leader removed a small radio with a long antenna from his pack. Then declared the checkpoint danger level low. A black shadow appeared behind him and loomed as he turned around. His head lifted from his body. He felt weightless as the shadow slaughtered his platoon in the split second before his light darkened.

The last man fell as Trevor regained control after he used an ax to split his skull. He wiped the blood from his face and spit out the bits that entered his mouth. He felt nothing. Blood dripped from the tip of his sword as he closed his eyes toward the sun. The blood on his body evaporated into purple steam. He offered their blood and bodies to the gods, without picking a specific god, but prayed anyway. Fisa, Bulala Fisa, Bulala. The repeating words fueled his bloodlust. His eyes darkened, and his body took over.

The radio clicked on and a high-pitched voice wanted a sitrep. Trevor ignored it as a small detachment of invaders turned the corner. He stood over their dead comrades as his mouth moved, but he did not make a sound. Bullets whizzed and bounced off the concrete and stone road. Trevor smiled as bullets pierced his body to little effect. He vanished.

The men, in a v shaped formation, pressed forward as they searched for their assailant. A silver lightning bolt struck the middle, creating a shockwave that blew their formation apart. Trevor appeared and picked them off one by one before anyone gathered themselves. The seven-man platoon decimated before they mounted a response as Trevor removed his ax from the leader’s head. One gasped for air and tried to crawl away. Trevor stopped him with a blade through his back that pierced his heart.

Fisa, Bulala, fisa, bulala. Trevor prayed to the gods above. John arrived with his personal guard. They planned to attack the checkpoint and drive the invaders back. But three seven-man platoons lay dead, strung about the area. Trevor stood in the middle with an ax and sword. His dark crimson red eyes gleamed in the sunlight as John and Meredith approached. He looked at them and smiled. HIs body emanated purple steam.

When John was a child, his father told him the stories of demons that roamed the land. They pillaged villages and small settlements for years. Until years later, they purged them from the continent. It was the blacks that helped with the unknown threat. His grandfather always expressed his gratitude and wished he went to Alkebulan with the others. When he looked at Trevor, he saw a half demon, half human, wondering which one he was.

Bursts of gunfire from across town drew Trevor’s attention. He stared down the alley toward the exchange, then back to John. He grinned, vanishing into purple mist.

John investigated Trevor's smoke trail and inquired to Meredith if she had seen anything like it. She shook her head as John looked in the direction Trevor traveled. The gunfire increased, but soon ended with silence.

General Samia chimed in, curious about what Alexia thought, and why she left him? John stroked his beard and could not come up with an answer. All he could think about was Trevor’s red eyes and his creepy smile. He looked like he enjoyed himself.

Across town, Kira’s squad came under heavy assault. Her small platoon erected a simple fortification to protect the inner parts of the city. Grenades exploded outside the barrier as Kira heard her father's voice telling her to steady her heart and breath. She cleared her mind, focusing her mana into her rifle. Kira sat up, crouched, raised her rifle to her shoulder, peeked, fired two bursts, then ducked. Bullets whizzed over her head as the invaders returned fire.

The loud cackle of automatic rifles increased when a shadow appeared behind the assailants. Four men screamed as Trevor sliced them down. The others turned to protect their flank, emptying their magazines. But he charged forward and separated head and limbs from bodies.

Silence filled the air as Kira peered over the roadblock. The black clad invaders were dead while a blood-covered man stood in the street. Purple steam emitted his body as the sun graced his skin. Her jaw dropped as the blood from his body turned to steam vanishing into the sky.

When his body released his enemies’ blood, and his body cleansed, Trevor looked at Kira. Before his eyes met hers, he had the aura of a predator out for his next meal. His gaze forced her to stumble back behind the makeshift wall.

She peaked out again; Three bullets hit him as he stood. Blood sprayed from the entry wounds, but Trevor did not budge. Purple mana filled the holes as he prayed, ignoring the combatants until they turned their rifles toward Kira.

Trevor dashed toward them, sliced one in half, as the other turned around. The invader pulled the trigger, letting out a full burst. Trevor ducked under the fire, in one motion, lifted his sword, bringing it down on the forward man’s left shoulder. The sharp weapon went clean through, exiting his torso. The trailing invader tried to run, but Trevor took his legs from him. He fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Trevor took the man’s head, then tossed it in a nearby bin.

Someone called out to Kira, but she was in a daze, watching Trevor. The woman shook Kira from her stupor and investigated if she had any wounds. Kira pushed her away, insisting she was fine. They stood up and walked to the middle of the street as her platoon gathered weapons, whispering about the blood ghost.

Kira understood the sentiment as the name fit as she surveyed the carnage. Invaders mixed in with citizens; a horrifying scene. The carnage, left in the wake of the advancing invaders, made Kira sick. She wanted to throw up, but keep it down for her young platoon's sake, praying to Ishtar for their souls.

A young woman latched onto Kira. "what do we do now?" Kira shook her head as they turned a corner where John, Meredith, and General Samia stood surrounded by guards.

John, investigating Trevor’s work, shushed the chattering crowd and mused about the silence. The group paused as the city remained tense. The fighting ended, but the threat still loomed.

They followed the trail of dead invaders to the breach created by the initial attack. Trevor stood in it, facing the defensive line. Purple mana surrounded his body like he stood in a pot of boiling water.

Trevor's eyes returned to normal as the group gawked at him with awe and fear. Blood leaked from his bullet-riddled shirt and pants as he fell to the ground. Kira ran to his side, resting his head on her thighs.

"Good, you're ok. I think I did too much. I have a migraine now."

The intense pain made it hard to sleep, but Meredith knelt down and circulated his mana. Trevor lost consciousness. His mind drifted far away.

Hours later, Trevor awoke under the light of the spire illuminating the night sky. Kira had her head down with her hair covering her face. Trevor sat up, leaned toward her, and moved her hair, exposing her sleeping face. Then he poked her cheek as the urge overwhelmed him. She shifted and then opened her eyes.

"Yo," Trevor greeted her with a soft yet deepened voice. Kira rubbed her eyes as her mind caught up to the moment.

“Are you ok? Any pain anywhere?”

Trevor shook his head; he felt good all his wounds had healed. He looked at his hands, now clean, but his imagination covered them in blood. Kira tilted her head and inquired if he was ok. He brushed her off with. "I'm fine."

Trev had felt it before; in his twenties, he would receive regular panic attacks. It was not until he gained control of his emotions that the attacks stopped. When he found himself in the alleyway, he explained to Kira. His heart raced and thumped. He remembered it all, as if his mind went on a ride in someone else’s body. The thought scared him as he pondered if he would gain control over the mana. His eyes widened as he looked at Kira.

“You stayed by my side the whole night?” Kira nodded. Trevor hugged and thanked her as she reminded him he saved her. "What did you do? What kind of power is that? You vanished, and the weapon you used. What kind of sword is that?"

Kira glanced over at the broken hiltless sword beside Trevor's cot. He shook his head, then shrugged, "It's a Katana. I'm not sure where I got it."

He surveyed the area. The injured groaned and screamed while doctors and nurses tended to them. The cries of citizens wrapped themselves over dead loved ones and filled the night air. Trevor's heart raced and thumped so hard he thought it would jump out of his chest.

Fisa, bulala, fisa, bulala, repeated, ravaged his mind as his heart raced and breathing hallowed. His eyes glossed over as Kira latched onto him. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face against his back. The words grew quiet. "Kira?"

"Your back."

As soon as Kira let go, the words returned. Much quieter, but just as persistent. He grabbed Kira's hand. The words cease. Kira's face lit up, but embarrassed. Trevor, concerned she would deny him, asked to hold her hand. Instead, Kira closed her hand, intertwined her fingers with his. Trevor's mind cleared.

Kira looked up at Trevor. “What does Fisa bulala mean?” Trevor never heard those words before, but he said them over and over in his sleep. Kira told him. He remembered they repeated in his mind, but they were foreign, not his language.

Samia entered the tent. Kira broke contact, unsure if her adoptive mother would approve. The words returned as intense as before. All he could think about was the enemy that infiltrated their city. They lurked outside the city somewhere and Trevor felt the weight of the world lift off when he thought of their deaths. He attempted to suppress them but touched Kira’s shoulder and relief came.

General Samia, pleased to see Trevor awake, pulled them outside, where John and Meredith deliberated on the attack as they scanned the hole created by the invaders.

A wall guard captain joined the group and slipped that they found the enemy camp four kilometers southeast. John unfolded his arms and proclaimed to his troops that they wanted to capture the remaining combatants alive. Trevor, displeased with the order, refused. He didn’t see the reason to keep them alive.

Mere proclaimed they appreciated life, no matter whom it belonged to. Trevor found her response unacceptable.

His heart raced as the silent murmur of fisa, bulala, proliferated Trevor’s mind. It grew more intense as time passed and purple mana leeched off him. He remained in control, but Meredith felt the bloodlust. She stepped back, attempting to break the tension. "Kira’s 3rd platoon is under direct command of General Samia. Your orders are to flank around and hold the eastern escape route. Toward Jackson village."

Trevor, frustrated, did not want Kira in danger. "No."

The Kira and Samia synced their response. “What do you mean, no?”

Trevor looked east. His eyes transitioned from brown to a deep crimson red as dark purple mana surrounded his body. One step, he disappeared into a flash of purple smoke.