1 Chapter 1: I Sense Something

It takes immense concentration to capture a scent while scavenging in the abyss. Surfing in the clouds above the ruins of hell on our hoverboards, a million shades of different smells invade my nose.

There is a particular scent I want to capture; one that I wish to separate from the chaos of pungent aromas.

My mother's homemade scented candles, the comforting sweet scent that she would permeate in our home, seeped into our bed sheets, our hair, and our clothes.

All that remains of those candles is a hint of the scent on my pendant. An intricate leather croche of a hummingbird hangs around my neck. For some reason, after all these years, the smell of home still lingers on it. 

Candles, by design, burn, and life, by design, ends. In the meantime doesn't it smell nice? That's what my mother used to tell me to comfort me when I had nightmares; and that is what I tell myself each time I go out surfing in the abyss. 

The faint smell of the candles breaths confidence into me and I dig my heels into my board as we get closer to our raid zone. Dior weaves along the clouds beside me and offers me a wink when she catches me staring.

I blush and almost lose my balance. Her silver hair flows behind her like a stream of water, and the two short stubby horns protruding from her forehead give off a subtle red glow as it cuts through the wind. A silhouette of her tall lean figure flashes periodically as she moves in and out of the clouds.

We are surfers: scavengers who travel along the coast of the abyss. Anything the divers left behind from the battles against the ghouls is the loot that we survive off of.

Dior and I are from the orphanage on the outskirts of the northern garrison. Our loot from each trip is what feeds the kids back home.

I am always nervous, being fearful of the responsibility we bare. Dior seems to always have a blast. Enjoying the wind, the feeling of flight, the adventure of exploring the ruins of war. I wish I was more like her. 

My holoband alerts me that we are near the warzone. I glance down to the ruins below. Fresh smoke fills the air and the sickening glow of ghouls' blood litters the craters left behind by the colossal blows.

It is as if the gods themselves fought here. Buildings and vehicles lay waste, crumpled like a piece of paper.

Dior rushes ahead of me and lands on a giant yacht that has been flipped over on its side with a giant hole blasted through it.

She isn't ditzy. Even though this job is an adventure for her, she treads with caution. She is wiser and braver than I could ever be.

I flick my wrist to allow the holoband to scan the area for potential ghouls. It reads clear and I dismount from my board, landing beside Dior.

She slings her spear across her shoulders and rests her hands on either end. The enchanted engravings glow red each time her hands touch it.

"Go ahead Tits, grab all you can, I'll keep you safe" She teases.

I roll my eyes and start gathering goods. I don't like being called that. My birth name is Titus.

Everyone at the orphanage call me Tyde; but Dior has her thing for nicknames, and mine happened to be a body part that I do not have.

Dior's relic that the orphanage gave her was a weapon: a spear that can phase through objects. My relic was a utility: a bag with never ending storage. It fits our roles perfectly.

She hasn't had to use it, we've been really cautious and been lucky so far to not run into ghouls or divers; but if the time ever came, I would be of no use.

She has the warrior spirit between us. I'm very happy with being the gatherer. She can hunt all she wants.

I'd like to think that we've been able to stay out of trouble because of my keen senses. I've always oddly been able to have enhanced control over all of my senses. I will see, hear, or even smell danger before it arrives.

Right now I enhance my hearing to listen to the soothing calm voice of Dior as I scavenge the ruins. Is it weird to do that?

I've always noticed she talks to herself when I leave her. Perhaps it's because of her bubbly personality and that her desire to talk overwhelms the boring part of her job: watching and waiting.

Sometimes, if I'm lucky I get to hear her sing. Her melodic voice is a treat amongst all the noise of what comes after death that gives me anxiety.

The smell of fumes, blood, and burning flesh has a constant presence in the air. Seeing death hurts less than the other senses.

Sounds of hoarse breathing, boiling corpses and the wails of souls muttering their last words find their way into my ear. Dior's voice helps to drown it out. It might be weird to eavesdrop but this is the only thing that keeps me grounded.

I get lost in her voice as I fill my bag with food, clothes, and tools; but a break in the rhythm catches my attention. Her breathing pattern has changed to a rapid pace. The urgent sound of her heartbeat racing causes mine to match it. 

Oh no, what has she noticed? Is it finally our unlucky day? I rush out of the building I was in and look for Dior.

She is about twenty paces ahead of me and facing the opposite direction. Her head is tilted up, aiming at the site of a colossal ghoul.

My jaw unhinges as I stare in awe at the massive harrowing creature. A narwhal with giant feathered wings and rows of shark teeth, is staring down Dior with its giant yellow eye.

Its long spindly horn is pointed directly at her spear and I can hear her breath shaking as she boldly grips her weapon. I can sense her fear but I don't see it. She is too brave for her own good.

I run after her, knowing what I must do. You see, although I don't wield a weapon, and I am much more afraid than she is; I possess something that can get us out of any pinch.

I haven't had to test it yet so I'm a bit nervous but not enough to risk having Dior get killed. My body moves at tremendous speeds and I appear in front of her in the blink of an eye.

With superhuman strength I shove her and her hoverboard a long distance into the air. 

My markings start to burn into me and the flesh around my waist starts to glow with obsidian and pale light. I have been holding onto this secret for a long time.

I trust Dior enough to reveal it to her but I was hoping to never have to use it. With this deadly ghoul in our midst threatening my best friend's life, I had no choice but to act.

The engravings on my waist resemble two dragons, one white and the other black; both representing the branding mark of the demoness of lust.

It's extremely shameful to have made a bargain with a demon, one of lust no less; so it pains me to have to reveal it to Dior. She'll tease me relentlessly for sure.

I am Lust's vessel and she has granted me the ability to grow exponentially powerful each day that I abstain from the temptation of lust.

On the day I bust, my abilities will revert as my body goes undergoes excruciating pain correlating to the period of time I abstained for.

I have been holding back for 4 years.

Being enhanced by over a thousand-fold, I became a force of nature.

My skin hardened and became more resilient than diamond; my strength more powerful than even the strongest beasts, and my senses dialed to perfection.

My pupils dilate as instinct take over my body. In this current state, I am perfect.

I face the monster. I don't have a clue how to fight, I've never had to; but I know that it can't harm me no matter what.

Which is why I take a deep breath, clench my cheeks, and dive into its mouth. My goal is to jump straight in its insides and rupture through it.

The last thing I hear is Dior's melodic voice screaming. It is still soothing even when frantic and loud. The last thing I see is the rows of jagged teeth. The last thing I smell, oddly enough, is the comforting scent of my mothers candle.

I always find a way to find it amongst all else. I touch the slimy stomach acid as I plunge into darkness. My sixth sense goes off as I puncture through the creature.

I've made it to the other side but something feels horribly wrong. My senses never lie.