by Tenebrae

Part 3

I flew my minions across the leagues the separated our town from the encampment of the Molachaka. I set then down just out of sight of the camp guards and then becoming one with the night, I flew on toward the tabernacle of my foe and fellow da'imon. I assumed the form of a dog, and slipped into the camp. Creeping closer and closer to the temple tents of Nekrotheus.

When I heard the guard call the challenge to my minions, I knew it would be a matter of time. Sure enough, the cry of jubilation went through the camp when the ruse that their warriors were returned with fresh captives was begun. A fastidious rogue rushed to the tent and bowed into tabernacle. I swept in with him, in the guise of a sand flea, and as he bowed before the majesty of my brother, I leapt forward, fangs bared and claws unsheathed.

I closed with the fool, my jaws to his throat, my claws raking his first his joints, then his belly; hot ichors spurted down my throat and quenched ancient hungers and thirsts that mortals will never assuage. We rolled over one another, and out the back of his threadbare domicile, blood, bile and intestines trailing behind us. His priest stood speechless at the sight of his god assaulted so. As I gouged my foe in the bowels, his stomach ruptured and his digestive acids sprayed the confines of the tabernacle. With a wailing shriek, the priest began to dissolve, as he stood rooted to the spot.

All about us there was turmoil and confusion. People screamed and cried as we crashed through tents and lean-tos and crushed his minions indiscriminately. Those that we did not crushed were lucky if they escaped the burning acid that spewed from his ruptured entrails. Fires sprang up and raged unchecked through the encampment as we wrestled for his life.

The camp guards turned away from my minions at the havoc we were creating and my followers acted upon the cue, rushing in amongst the foe and slaying any who were armed. Capturing any who were not, killing the old and shackling all the rest, as per my instructions. Nekrotheus flailed about, trying to score a hit upon me, a bite anything, but I had effectively disabled him with the hamstring attacks. He coughed up a great lungful of blood and began to lose consciousness. I pinned him down and howled my triumph before I began to devour his flesh.

Oh what a night it was. I had feasted on one of my own, a rare treat. The Molachaka were obliterated as a people, their warriors and elders killed off, their women enslaved, and their young set aside to appease my appetites. Nekrotheus' bones picked clean, I left instructions for the warriors to have the slaves bring their dead god with them, for his remains would adorn my temple. Foolish Da'imon, I thought to myself, to try and supplant me here, where I held sway.

Replete with the sustenance of my recent meal, I decided to forgo the usual flight and indulged in a translocation instead of racing the sun's light home. I settled with a satisfied groan in my chambers and dosed as the morning sun crested the far horizon.