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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

We learn more about the Mexul generals Hellgate and Mankiller

Chapter 25 (v.1) - Hellgate's Wrath

Submitted: July 11, 2019

Reads: 37

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Submitted: July 11, 2019




Two Years Later


When 1995 rolled around, I felt like a completely different person.  I had lost Daniel only two years earlier in what I guessed was Nebraska or South Dakota during a raid.  This left me alone with Andromm and Thorian, who were conflicted.  

I had heard them arguing often in those first months after Daniel's death.  They argued about why Andromm hadn't chosen to transform Daniel, when he saw he was dying.  I don't think I ever heard Andromm give a clear explanation other than that he doubted himself and lost the chance.  This led to a rift between us, and I began to spend more time with Thorian, who gradually became like my best friend.   In a way maybe Andromm had been right to let Daniel go.  He was suffering too much and too far gone to come back.  He would never have survived the long three day and night transformation least that is what I had to tell myself later in early 1995 when I finally forgave Andromm.  

Another thing Andromm and Thorian argued about was whether to stay on living the way we were or return to the main clan group, where I assumed Shemokk was.  At some point, they decided that we all should travel south and search for other Fallen soldiers, which Andromm and Thorian believed where down south, possibly in Texas or Oklahoma.  

We were gradually making our way south.  And as we did, I continued to practice my hunting skills and tool making skills.  Now I had to learn to do things for myself.  I was having a very hard time learning these things, as the Fallen did some things differently from how we humans had done them.  Among one of the hardest things were building good movable shelters (as nothing could be completely permanent now) and keeping the arsenal of weapons stocked.  

The Fallen had kept their traditional weapons alive, relying on bows and arrows, battle-style axes, machetes and spears.  But making them and fixing them was a whole skill I couldn't seem to master.  I would sit on the log and mimic what Andromm showed me, such as how to create the perfect spearhead. But every single time I tried, I failed, and I grew angry.

There were several times I found myself exploding in anger and standing up and growling as .I shoved my failed spearhead on the grass, startling Thorian.  Andromm would remain calm and would wait for me to calm down then wave me over to sit with him again, so that I could try again.  

This is how things went on those two years after Daniel died.  

I was angry during the day, then at night I was sad and on the edge of despair.  I would think of Daniel constantly and I would begin to remember his warm caresses and hot kisses.  Sometimes without wanting to, I'd recall those special nights we'd had together and soon I would be thinking of how good his lips felt against my skin.  I would inevitably think about him making love to me and as I closed my eyes, .I could even feel his lips against my neck, tasting me, as his body worked feverishly to make me his.  

But as many times as I imagined this, every single morning I'd awake alone and devastated.


[ Western Illinois]


Somewhere in the western part of Illinois, the dying grass was plastered red with blood to match the scarlet skies.  It had been carnage for the inhabitants of the town of Itasca.  

Although the plague had decimated most of the population in the world, there had been scraps of land where people had been able to come together in time and create a new, if vastly different way of life.  People were so spread out in what was once the United States that barely anyone knew about these towns unless they came within physical sight of them.  They were few of these towns but those people that managed to find them often gladly laid down their lives of nomads and chose to live again amongst the populace.  As a town.  

Although there were many perks to living in these new towns, there were also many risks, among them getting raided by the traveling nomads (who raided to steal food, clothing, cooking items and weaponry, even other people).  These attacks were usually dealt with swiftly, as they were common.  The real problem tho, wasn't from these human raiders.

It was attacks from the Mexul soldiers.

Itasca hadn't been attacked by the Mexul yet-at least, not in the way they were attacked that early morning in 1995.

The town had dealt with infrequent attacks by lone soldiers, or pairs of them.  They came, they took what they wanted.  

Tonight tho, the Mexul came for blood.  

The general Hellgate had arrived with his legions, with his right hand and most trusted soldier, Mankiller, both of which had the worst reputations in all of the Mexul legions.  In case anyone is wondering why Mankiller and Hellgate were called Mankiller and Hellgate, I will explain.  

These nicknames had been given to them by humans during the bitterest part of the war, just after the plague had decimated the population.  

Mankiller was a fierce killer of man, woman and child.  He didn't care who he killed.  He was a soldier without scruples and knew no loyalty except to his friend and general, Hellgate, who he revered almost as a god.  

Hellgate was to put it simply, Hell on Earth.  When humans first saw him, he stood upon a mountaintop and spread his wings wide, his arms outstretched in defiance over the waiting human armies below him.  He feared no one- not before he came to Earth, not after he conquered Earth.  His battle roar could be heard for miles, and his ferocity in battle quickly brought most of Earth's armies to their knees.  Hellgate wasn't just cruel and conniving-Hellgate was intelligent and could outsmart the smartest of his enemies.

Itasca was literally destroyed, its inhabitants dragged from their homes while they slept and butchered.

The men and women scrambled to shoot at their attackers, but they had been completely taken by surprise.  Their guards tower people had failed to awaken them, and there was a simple reason for that.  

Dead men cannot sound the alarm.  

Hellgate's knew just what to do as they snuck in, using deceptive tactics on the confused guards who saw three lone hunched over humans approaching them, calling for help for their wounded friend.  In the time it took them to decide whether to open the gates or force them off, they were attacked from above by six huge Mexul soldiers, which tore at their necks and quickly decapitated them with their bare hands.  Below them, the three hunched over figures quickly cast off their disguises and revealed their Mexul identities.  

Within minutes, the sounds of horrified screams pierced the air as the invaders attacked.  The tall winged humanoids of greenish skin were quick and aggressive, shattering into flimsy homes and even attacking and eating the guard dogs and cattle and horses they came across.  

In the midst where Hellgate and Mankiller, who shouted orders when necessary, although their soldiers knew what they needed to do.  

One woman shrieked as her husband was ripped apart by two growling six and a half foot tall Mexul soldiers, who then went after her.  

The sounds of flapping wings was as loud as the infernal growls of the attackers and the terrified screams of the victims.  

Although the people in Itasca fought with every last ounce of strength near the end, they were no match for Hellgate and Mankiller or their demonic looking legion of winged monsters.  

One man had hidden with his family under a cellar that they had specially made for just an occasion such as this.  This man, Geils Decker, stared at the attackers and his eyes glittered with fear.  Those horrific faces he now saw ripping into his neighbors bodies were the faces of demons in his eyes.  Their wings...their yellowish eyes and their fangs.....had he not seen these beings somewhere else before?  A painting depicting the end of life on Earth?  A Renaissance painting showing what Hell might look like?

This was what Geils Decker thought of now as these monsters moved ever closer to his hiding spot.

It was Mankiller who saw him first.  The smell of fear was strong and it drew him in.  

Minutes later, Mankiller and his soldiers appeared outside again, their faces and arms bloody.  Mankiller held two decapitated heads in each hand as his yellow eyes met Hellgate's.  

Hellgate watched him and his eyes observed the way the blood streaked across his face, which was handsome in spite of his hellish reputation.  

"Have them collect the bodies and brought to the center,"- Hellgate ordered, then brushed past Mankiller, touching a hand to his fellow general's shoulder.  This was his sign of approval and appreciation for his friend's loyalty.  

© Copyright 2019 Artic Wolf 1984. All rights reserved.


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