A Small Spark

"Ensure the complete eradication of the entire area. Vanquish those abominable demons, and if you come across any followers of the dark arts, apprehend them. We require more intelligence on this matter as all this only started 6 years ago. I entrust this mission to you, Jake," a resolute voice emanated from the communicator.

"Copy that," Jake responded. He withdrew a sleek crossbow from his arsenal and stealthily positioned himself behind a weathered stone structure. Peering over its edge, he fixated his gaze upon a figure adorned with tribal face paint, engaged in conversation with a loathsome demon. "Now's my chance," Jake contemplated silently, a triumphant smile gradually spreading across his face. With deliberate precision, he unleashed the power of his crossbow, its bolt piercing through the demonic entity's skull. Quickly, he darted behind a nearby pillar, reloading his weapon with swiftness. Taking aim once more, he unleashed a second shot, impaling the vile creature's chest. A sickly green ichor spilled forth, emanating a putrid odor so repugnant it could be likened to poison.

"Alecmadore... where are you?" the man with the painted visage uttered, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. Suddenly, his eyes locked onto Jake, a malevolent grin contorting his features. Without hesitation, the man lunged towards Jake with unwavering determination.

As the man with the painted face launched himself at Jake, his movements were wild and untamed, driven by a savage determination. His hands transformed into wicked claws, slashing through the air with primal ferocity. With a feral growl, he lunged at Jake, aiming to sink his teeth into his arm, his deranged mind set on drawing blood.

Reacting swiftly, Jake deftly sidestepped the man's biting assault, narrowly evading the gnashing jaws. In one fluid motion, he reached to his waist, withdrawing two gleaming daggers from their sheaths. The blades caught the dim light, glinting with a deadly promise, a stark contrast to the man's brutish attack.

Jake, a trained soldier, shifted seamlessly into a military stance, his movements disciplined and precise. He met the man's frenzied onslaught with a combination of strategic parries and calculated strikes. Each swing of his daggers was executed with lethal accuracy, seeking vulnerable openings in his opponent's defenses.

However, the devil worshipper was no ordinary foe. His savage nature allowed him to absorb blows that would fell a lesser opponent. He endured the wounds inflicted by Jake's daggers, fueled by a twisted determination to destroy his adversary. With relentless aggression, he clawed and bit, aiming to tear into Jake's flesh and incapacitate him.

The clash of metal against flesh reverberated through the air, as the combatants exchanged devastating blows. Jake's military training and calculated movements clashed against the man's savage brutality. Each strike carried the weight of their respective fighting styles, a dance between discipline and primal rage.

Despite his skill, Jake wasn't impervious to the devil worshipper's assault. The man's claws raked across his arms, leaving deep, bloody gashes in their wake. Pain coursed through Jake's body, a reminder of the price he paid in this fierce battle.

Undeterred by the wounds he suffered, Jake's resolve remained unyielding. He drew upon his combat expertise, adapting his tactics to neutralize his opponent's aggression. Swift footwork and precise strikes became his allies as he deftly avoided the man's lunges, turning his own momentum against him.

As the minutes stretched on, fatigue began to take its toll on both combatants. The devil worshipper's movements grew erratic, his relentless assaults losing their initial vigor. Jake's own body felt heavy with exhaustion, his muscles burning with each exertion.

In a final surge of strength, the devil worshipper launched one last desperate assault, clawing and biting with reckless abandon. Jake, battered and bloodied, summoned his remaining reserves of energy. With calculated precision, he seized an opening and struck with unwavering determination, his daggers finding their mark in vital areas of his adversary's body.

Both combatants faltered, their bodies strained and their breathing ragged. The devil worshipper, wounded and weakened, collapsed to the ground, his eyes reflecting a mix of pain and disbelief. Jake stood over him, his own body battered but unbowed, his daggers stained with the blood of his formidable foe.

This was the end of the battle, or so Jake believed. But as the dust settled, a chilling presence descended upon the fallen devil worshipper. An ominous black figure, wreathed in darkness, swirled around the lifeless body, sending shivers down Jake's spine.

"Alec... Alecma.... ALECMADORE IS HERE!" the devil worshipper's voice echoed with an otherworldly resonance, distorted and filled with a maddening energy.

Jake's heart raced, his mind grappling with the horror of the situation. He knew he needed immediate assistance, so he desperately reached for his communicator, his voice laced with urgency. "COMMANDER MARIANA! I NEED BACKUP! IT'S AS IF A DEVIL'S ANGEL HAS POSSESSED THIS GUY!" Jake's words carried a mix of fear and determination. "I'M INJURED, BUT YOU'RE NOT TOO FAR. IF YOU CAN BRING TWO SQUADS... WE CAN TAKE HIM DOWN!" he pleaded, his voice echoing into the abyss.

Static filled the airwaves for a moment before the commander's voice crackled through the communication device. "You fought well, Jake, but this is where we part ways. Your service has been commendable," the commander's words held a sense of finality before abruptly cutting off, leaving Jake in stunned silence.

Hopelessness gripped Jake as he looked down, resigned to his fate. Death loomed before him, inching closer with every passing second. His eyes welled up with tears, his body trembling in fear. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he watched the devil worshipper slowly approach, ready to deliver a fatal bite.

But just as the jaws of death closed in, a small figure, a boy of around 13 years old, stepped forward, placing his hand in front of Jake, shielding him from the imminent attack. "GAH!" the boy cried out, enduring the searing pain as the devil worshipper sank its teeth deep into his flesh. Undeterred by the agony, the boy spun around with remarkable swiftness, wielding an axe, and in one swift motion, severed the devil worshipper's head from its twisted body.

Overwhelmed by a mix of shock and gratitude, Jake stared at the boy before him. "You're one of them, aren't you?" Jake whispered, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and apprehension. "A human possessed by a demon, or perhaps you are one yourself. If you're going to end me, just do it swiftly. But then again, why would you even listen? You are born from the very essence of evil itself," Jake's words held a tinge of resignation, as if he had accepted his fate.

The boy, known as Nikolas, looked at Jake with a mix of curiosity and defiance. "What nonsense are you spouting?" Nikolas scoffed, his eyes reflecting an otherworldly glow. He reached down and scooped up the fallen worshipper's blood, pouring it into a chalice and raising it to his lips. "This one's quite delicious. Care to taste?" Nikolas offered, his actions disturbingly detached from conventional human behavior.

Confusion and repulsion intertwined within Jake as he witnessed Nikolas's unsettling actions. "Who are you?" Jake questioned, his voice laden with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Nikolas smirked, his features displaying an otherworldly aura. "Call me Niko, but my true name is Nikolas," he replied cryptically. Jake's gaze lingered on the boy's untamed reddish-black hair, his partially red skin, and his fang-like teeth. It was clear that Nikolas was no ordinary human.

"What are you?" Jake persisted, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and curiosity.

Nikolas chuckled, a bone-chilling sound that sent shivers down Jake's spine. "Questions, questions," he mused, his eyes piercing into Jake's soul. "I may appear human, but I am unlike any ordinary being. I am not privileged like you, living a life of luxury merely because of age," Nikolas responded with a hint of bitterness. "You, Jake, have only glimpsed a fraction of the world as it stands now. At least your life of comfort is coming to an end. Then, perhaps you will experience a fraction of the anguish and suffering that plagues me every day," he continued, his voice laced with a deep-seated resentment.

Jake's gaze remained fixed on Nikolas, a mixture of bewilderment and compassion welling up within him. He began to understand that this enigmatic boy was burdened with a pain far greater than he could comprehend. The revelation sent a wave of empathy crashing over him, overshadowing his own fears and uncertainties.

"I may have lived a life of luxury, but it means nothing if I fail to understand the struggles of others," Jake replied, his voice filled with a newfound resolve. "Tell me, Nikolas, what can I do to make a difference? How can I help alleviate the pain you endure?"

Nikolas's guarded expression softened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He regarded Jake with a mixture of skepticism and a glimmer of hope. "You truly want to help? To go beyond the confines of your previous existence?" he asked, his voice tinged with cautious optimism.

Jake nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Yes, Nikolas. I want to fight alongside you, to understand the darkness that has consumed our world and to bring about a glimmer of light amidst the chaos."

"Then so be it." Nikolas replied. "Today, you are on of us."

February 26th 2049