Callisto

The Chainmen (pt. 3)

Rain-Born staggered back as the teeth of the deathspitter ripped through her shoulder. She felt pain shoot up her right side and grimaced as she threw herself up the stairway.

She cursed her stupidity.

Jespar had been faster than she had. Or, her call to him had brought the wrath of the Chainman upon her. Either way, the reality of pain and the distorted world that swam before her began to resolve into a single thought slowly:

I'm hit.

She crawled up the final steps, propelling herself into the bedroom as quickly as possible, for already she could hear the cry of fury that roared from downstairs. She could hear the beast that wore the shape of a woman reload the evil fire that was burning through Rain-Born's shoulder right at this moment.

She had never once felt the burning venom of the deathspitter's kiss. Now she understood it's vile namesake.

Now she understood the evil of the Old World.

She thought of the Guthra's firestone still in her pack. But she decided against it. To strike it here would burn the entire place, killing everyone. She wasn't about to throw all their lives away. But she had to fight in a state weaker than she ever had been before. For never had she felt the touch of a deathspitter pierce her flesh and burrow into her bones.

Footsteps began to resound from downstairs. Bounding like a great demon emerging from below the depths of the dead earth. Rain-Born staggered to her feet and ran to the cover of the bedroom as another shot rang out behind her, tearing through the door frame and barely missing the back of her head. She dropped to the floor of the room and scanned her surroundings. No cave. No huts. No dark corners this time. Not here. Here, she was trapped within the iron walls of this cage.

Here, she was in their world.

...

"WHERE ARE YOU?"

She had turned to fire on the little bastard trying to flank her and just missed his tail, launching a bullet that chewed into the front door instead. Martha's incessant barking wasn't helping.

She sidled up the stairway, keeping one hand on the rifle's trigger and one hand on the railing to steady herself. She grit her teeth in pain, and the world began to spin into a crimson kaleidoscope that shook the room and numbed her senses. Already she could feel the small river of blood that ran down her leg and pooled on each wooden step.

It didn't matter, she thought, and with each new ragged breath, she took another step, now focused on the top of the stairs and the room the girl had fallen into. She'd kill them both, and Martha would get the meal of her life.

She pushed her back against the bedroom wall and steadied the rifle, looking through its shaking iron sights for any hint of movement. The vague form of something bulbous and black lay on the floor. Apart from that, the room looked just as she'd left it. But that shape on the floor, was it the Tribal girl? No, no – it was far too big. Too much meat on those bones. Too much-

And then the realization shook her that it was her son, lying there with his neck broken like some twisted marionette, cast aside.

"You little bitch."

She said it as she felt a single drop of blood hit her brow from above. And she knew the sly piece of filth was up there.

She twisted the gun in the air just in time to see two blood-crazed eyes meet hers.

She fired.

...

Rain-Born felt the bullet whiz by her, tearing through her hair and punching the ceiling above. She bore down on the woman and scattered the vile weapon from her hands. It skidded across the room and stopped next to the bed. She reached for her bone knife to deliver the killing blow, but suddenly pain erupted from her still-bandaged hand as the teeth of the writhing woman beneath her sunk into the wound. She cried out and felt herself thrown to the ground.