8 The Horror Hunt

The two figures were on the hunt in the fields when the slender avian chariot appeared in the sky and darted towards them. The tall woman stood her ground while her slender companion sat waiting. “Revered Aunt. Revered Uncle,” the pilot said after dismounting the silver craft.

“Jaini,” said the Aunt. “It has been an age since we’ve seen you.” They exchange pleasantries and small talk but the Uncle said little outside of polite but curt, body language. “Tell us, child, few seek us, fewer find us and none are happy to have done so. What do you need of these two old fools?”

“Revered Aunt. I'm sure that you've heard I have been struggling since my return. I am a builder. A creator. An artist. Beauty and purpose hand in hand. Because of this, I find myself unable to build what these dark times need. My art cannot suffer this world. Revered Aunt I have come to learn. To be inspired. I have come to know War.”

War laughed. “Always so dramatic girl, though I am flattered to be considered a Muse. The truth is I heard that you cannot compete against the brutalist you inspired. Mass production. Programmed synthetic organics. His ways are alien to your father's teachings.”

The Uncle spoke. “Efficient and effective. The means are irrelevant. He does not seek awe. He provides results.”

Jaini could not speak up to her Uncle so she waited until War continued. “We are on a hunt Jaini. Accompany us and you will see first hand what is needed of your works. I’m sure we can give you a few pointers or so. Ah! Look there. Our informer has news.” Jaini followed the pointed finger to a rat with a small hat on its head. It stood up on its haunches and saluted and was ready to guide them onwards.

“The rats have found a nest.” War took up her weapons and strapped them to herself. “Lead on my Captain!” She laughed as the rat saluted again and began marching off south.

Jaini began to follow her but stopped unconsciously when her Uncle rose. His presence filled the field and the grass began to shrivel and dry. As he walked by he stopped and said, "To know her, young Wright, you must know me too. Are you truly prepared to know Death?”

They followed the rat for a few hours. Death was silent as always. War however was in her typical vociferous mood. When Death lagged behind to admire a butterfly, Jaini ventured the question to her. "Why did you two not defend the Throne from that mortal?"

"The Weapon was a concern. Your father and our brother disappeared from the Monad. But the boy sided with Ahlum so it became a moot point."

The situation in heaven became clear in an instant. "Ah." It wasn't just the Weapon. The boy. Lugan. Son of War. Son of Death. Touched by MOTHER. A mind beyond comparison. Imprisoned as a child by Theranis out of fear.

The beast caught them unawares. It flung the three gods about with its momentous charge. The 'Captain' was killed in an instant, crushed by a spiked hoof. Even now, with the creature amongst them, they could barely perceive it.

It would've appeared to be a huge bovine, three metres tall at the shoulder. Two spindly, humanoid arms protruded from its shoulders. Three whip-thin tentacles replaced its tail. Its head was hidden within a mass of overgrown horns. It was this helm of horns that bashed into Death and sent him flying into a tree. These details were lost upon the gods who could just sense the thing.

They could only see as a shadow at the edge of their vision. They could feel the cold when it looked upon them. It made no sound but they heard its voice pounding in their mind. TRAMPLE. CRUSH. RUIN! Its two spindly arms stretched and gripped War and Jaini by the throats. It then began to run through the trees, dragging them behind it. The two gods crashed through brush and shrub. Jaini’s face was pressed into the mossy ground. War bounced off a tree into a stone and her holy blood littered the forest.