The Enemy

Historians recount battles through strategies and generals. They don't speak of the frenzy—bodies flailing in crowds, minds clouded by bloodlust. They ignore the metallic tang of fresh blood, the screams of dying men, the cold dread of taking lives. No one mentions the survivors' nightmares, the fear of sleep itself. Only the survivors remember the true horror of battle.

The harpy's neck snapped with a hollow pop that echoed through the clearing. My mind burned with bloodlust even as my soul recoiled. Part of me savored that sound; another part wanted to vomit. Her lifeless eyes mocked me from the ground.

I hated myself. This wasn't me. I wasn't a killer. Yet here I stood over an innocent woman's corpse, her only crime stepping into my feeding ground. Blood coated my mouth, sickly sweet and bitter, driving me to feast on her cooling flesh. I screamed silently, fighting through the syrupy haze of instinct. Slowly, agonizingly, I clawed back control.

Then I collapsed against a tree and wept. Wept for the life I'd stolen, for my loss of control. I couldn't deflect blame—I had done this. This could have been my mother. Could have been Dan. Red tears stained the earth as I realized I was crying blood, the change in me now absolute.

My mind drifted through a lifetime of poor choices. Dropping out of college from laziness. Living on fast food and credit cards. Avoiding responsibility, dodging simple tasks like laundry. A slow descent into comfortable neglect. Now that wasted life had taken another's. I had to be more.

Sorrow crystallized into rage—at myself, at the world, at everything. A seething malice that could fuel purpose. I answered its call.

I dried my tears and stood. The past was done; only the future remained. With a silent prayer, I closed the harpy's eyes. I let the pain burn in my heart, driving me forward. Teras still fought. I could grieve later.

I sprinted after her, following the blood trail until it vanished into the canopy. Then I remembered my new strength. The trees became a highway as I leaped from branch to branch, tracking crimson spatters until I found them.

The gryphon was a ruin. Its head dangled by a thread, deep gashes scoring its hide where Teras had used her knives for purchase. Blood soaked the earth beneath it.

Teras slumped against a nearby tree, drenched in gore. Three massive gashes crossed her chest. She wasn't breathing.

I stumbled to her, each step stoking my rage to keep the grief at bay. No pulse. The wounds had stopped bleeding with her heart. Blood tears fell as I pressed my forehead to hers in thanks. Without her killing the beast, I'd be dead too.

Agony tore through my arm as I reached to close her eyes. Her grip locked me in place, lips sealed around my infinity tattoo. She drank my blood in desperate gulps.

I struggled, bracing my foot against her head and pulling with all my strength. My vision dimmed as she drained me. Just before unconsciousness took me, she released me.

The gashes on her chest had become pale silver lines. She shoved me aside, armor falling in shreds as she lunged for the gryphon's corpse. She tore through flesh and bone, ripping out its heart and devouring the rotting organ.

When she turned, her eyes matched my crystalline lattice, but with one difference—a glittering silver moon hung in each iris. Her smile was a naked blade.

"Run."