Skirmish at The Cathedral Basilica

From the perspective of Chase Cringle.

At the main entrance to the Tower of Blood, there was an eerie calm to the atmosphere. Everyone was dead silent. The night was warm and offered no wind, with few clouds overhead. The stars were bright and shining, and the moon was full. I could smell danger in the starkness of the air, so I was on guard, constantly looking over my shoulder.

I was quite comfortable in my new change of clothes consisting of a sleek silver faux leather trench coat, black cargo pants, a silver faux leather belt, silver low top canvas sneakers, and a black crew neck T-shirt. There was also a pair of black metal polarized rectangular sunglasses in a black faux leather case in the left hip pocket of my new trench coat. These will come in handy, someday.

I glanced the tower up and down. The edifice stood menacing, built of matte gray marble. Having not paid much attention to the outside of the tower when I had escaped the day before, I now noticed splotches of dried, crusted dark red blood on the tower's exterior that had dripped far down, giving the tower an even more foreboding appearance. Skulls lined the double doorway. Outside the tower, there, written in blood, was the name of their gang, The Flesheaters, and below that, the name of the building, The Tower of Blood.

The glass doors before us were coated in a fine layer of dust with dozens of bloody handprints. The legionaries stood at the ready, poised for combat. Narceus commanded the legionaries from behind. "Be on guard, legionaries. Go forth, unafraid."

I shivered even though the air was warm. I felt uneasy. I felt as though we should all turn back. My conscience told me death lay ahead. I didn't bother heeding my conscience, for I knew we were doing the right thing, or so we all thought. If he was left alive, he wouldn't stop his senseless violence and killings. Orrus had to pay for his transgressions. That's what mattered.

The first legionary collapsed his shield to the size of a basketball by pressing a concealed button next to the handle, then he maneuvered the shield over his right shoulder and it clung to the center of his back as if it was magnetic. With his free hand, the legionary grasped the left door handle and opened the door slowly and cautiously moved forward, glancing side to side and up and down, back and forth.

Once inside the dark and dank building, the legionary called out, "No sign of the enemy. The place is empty. See for yourself."

More legionaries piled inside without hesitation. Narceus, too, seemed uneasy, but remained quiet. Me and my crew were at the very back, behind the four present members of the Fatal Six.

"I don't like the looks of this," Austin whispered to me and Brandon and Jeriah. "The Flesheaters may be helmed by Orrus, but they're not stupid, far from it. Be ever vigilant."

Just then I heard a snap and the sound of a rope whirring. The next instant I heard a legionary yell "Back up!" over and over again. But it was too late. A dozen or so legionaries were inside the building now, and they all shouted in horror. I ran ahead to get a better look, and when I saw what I saw, I knew I couldn't be of any help. The damage was done. All the legionaries that were inside the building either lay dead on the floor or were in the process of dying, drenched in an incredibly potent acid that quickly dissolved their silver-plated armor and melted their flesh down to the bone.

"I'm gonna be sick," said one of the legionaries standing beside me.

"That is downright brutal," Jeriah said. "I'm so glad I didn't walk in there first."

Narceus replied in earnest. "Yes, be glad you didn't get dissolved like some of my good, decent, devoted friends in there. Be glad you're still alive to tell the tale. Watch your feet while you are inside."

Jeriah shut his mouth after Narceus offered him a piece of unsolicited advice.

Brandon and I walked together, side by side, stepping around the mess of legionaries. It was undeniably sad and disheartening to see people screaming as they die and not be able to help them any. I was sickened, and in my head I prayed for every one of them.

"I am sorry, my brothers. The rest of us can be of no help, less we encounter the same fate that befell upon you. We Prometheans are eternally grateful for your service and sacrifice. May you all live forever in Elysium," Narceus addressed the fallen legionaries, his eyes showing deep remorse. I too, felt deep remorse, knowing Narceus couldn't have said it any better.

I didn't want to continue, but I needed to continue. For all those who have died and suffered at the hand of Orrus and his followers. I wouldn't turn back, not for anything.

"I should have known this would happen. This is Crow's doing," said Micah who crept up behind me. "Crow is devious, sly, and most of all--heartless. He alone could have thought of and built this trap, it's no wonder he fled earlier. Orrus could have never constructed this diabolical trap." Micah turned to meet my gaze. "I am truly sorry for ever getting on your bad side. I hope I can atone for my transgressions. I hope we can one day be acquaintances, maybe more."

I replied with tact. "Save the pleasantries for after the fight, bub."

Micah, with the goal to achieve forgiveness, continued, "I was in the wrong, going along with Orrus. I didn't know any better. I was scared that if I left the Flesheaters I would be hunted down and slaughtered mercilessly if not by another Flesheater, then by someone way worse."

I considered Micah's sincere apology. "If you ever hurt one of my friends again, whether you're following orders or not, I will end you. Period. No hesitation. You will be turned to ash. As long as you heed my warning, we're good. We're okay. We can be friends, whether or not my friends give a shit. It's my life, I make my own decisions, and so do you. Now, let's find C-Squad and make them bleed."

Micah weakly smiled, then replied simply, "Thanks, friend."

"Don't mention it."

We made it around the now dead legionaries and this time I took the lead. I was at the forefront. I knew I should have listened to my conscience, but what else could we have done? Go back to the festival with nothing but the remains of a handful of dead legionaries? No way. In the past I may have been somewhat of a coward, but now I had friends. Now I had backup. I had people to count on, and people that counted on me--I would not fail them.

I led the legionaries and my friends to the stairwell that I had used before to make my escape.

Narceus advised his legionaries, "Search the entire tower. Leave nothing unturned. If you find any Flesheaters, you eliminate them. Understood, brothers?"

The legionaries all replied with "Understood Grandmaster Narceus, sir."

I remained at the lead as we continued up the grim, dimly lit stairwell, watching my feet with every step.

Upon stepping onto the second floor, I realized the building had to be void of Flesheaters, as they would dare not play hide and seek. But we didn't enter the Tower of Blood in vain. After entering one of the rooms whose door was wide open, I came across a note that read: MEET US AT THE BASILICA. BE READY TO DIE. In a hurry, I ran the note over to Narceus who was walking ahead, back in the hall. Narceus took the note and glanced it over, then he flipped the page, finding nothing else.

Narceus, surrounded by the three other present Promethean Grandmasters, heaved a great sigh. "Orrus obviously thought his entire plan through. He was able to kill a dozen of our legionaries without lifting a finger. I'm afraid he is playing a waiting game, one that we are losing. Grandmasters, what do you suggest we do? Blindly enter the basilica as we did the Tower of Blood? Or should we play the waiting game and encamp around the Basilica, waiting for the Flesheaters to leave to hunt more humans and wizards?"

Atropine replied, "I think playing the waiting game would be the best option. We don't need more of our own dying the way those twelve legionaries did downstairs."

My conscience told me I should state my opinion. "I'm not sure which option is best. But if we wait, Orrus would have more time to plan his next move. We need to take the offensive. We need to storm the basilica and kill all but Orrus."

Evelyn chimed in. "Technically, we don't even have to try Orrus in court. But we will attempt to capture Orrus, and we will publicly execute him in broad daylight so that our people and all outsiders understand we will not tolerate attacks against our people."

Nicole contributed to the conversation. "Yes, we will publicly execute Orrus, and only Orrus. The rest of his loyal followers are fair game. I believe Chase is right. We need to take the offensive now. We have a better chance at capturing Orrus and squashing the opposition if we leave and make way for the basilica this instant."

Nobody opposed Nicole's plan. Everyone nodded in agreement.

Narceus then responded, "Then it's settled. We shall leave straight away and make for the basilica."

Narceus turned to address his legionaries with a stern, powerful voice. "Legionaries, our enemy is not present. The enemy has fortified themselves in the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis. We are to leave immediately and make for the basilica. Let's move."

Narceus led the legionaries back downstairs as the other Grandmasters, B-Squad, my friends and I all followed behind.

I had never been to the Cathedral Basilica nor seen it with my own eyes. I was excited to visit a basilica, even if it revolved around slaying the remaining Flesheaters under the control of Orrus. I did love classical architecture.

Outside the Cathedral Basilica, my friends and I prepared for a massive standoff along with our allies against the Flesheaters, though we had little fortifications ourselves outside the basilica. As we all stood outside, from out of nowhere came a barrage of gunfire from a group of Flesheaters camped on the roof of the basilica. "Haha, dumbasses! You think you can eliminate us?" More gunfire and bullets ricocheting off the silver-plated armor of the legionaries who took the blunt of the gunfire.

Everyone at ground level scrambled for cover, behind trees, behind cars, and behind bushes--the only defenses we had.

Narceus immediately began to bark orders to his comrades. "Here's the plan! I figure the Flesheaters have holed themselves up pretty good in the basilica and have significantly fortified the front doors! The group on top of the basilica will shoot at any of us that try to enter through the front doors! But that's folly, isn't it?! We shall break down the walls and storm the basilica! But how, you may ask! See, I have a big friend, the mighty, the magical, the mystical… Gordanus!" Narceus produced a Promethean orb from a pouch tied around his waist, then he raised the orb with stunning confidence.

As soon as Narceus finished his sentence, Gordanus, the giant millipede deity, came trucking through a murky black portal in the sky a hundred or more feet above us. Gordanus landed hard in the street next to the cathedral, then at once came to Narceus' aid, asking, "Master Narceus. Whatever do you need?"

Narceus replied coolly, "I need you to first crawl up to the top of that cathedral and flick those pesky Flesheaters off the edge of the roof so we can finish them off. Second, I'm gonna need you to go full speed and ram the cathedral so we can get inside. After that, I need you as backup."

"As you wish, master," Gordanus replied humbly.

Gordanus didn't take long to crawl up the right side of the cathedral, surprising the Flesheaters on the roof. In one swoop, Gordanus flung the Flesheaters over the edge and to the ground using his bulky, long body. Immediately after, the Promethean legionaries attacked with their spears, I didn't have to move or raise a finger, neither did my friends or anyone under Micah's ranks. I was shocked to see all the black blood. I was shocked to see all the Flesheaters whose lives were taken in an instant. But that hardly mattered to me. I despised all the Flesheaters true to Orrus.

Gordanus crawled back down the cathedral. He then backed away just enough to ram the cathedral with all his might, head first. The legionaries yelled in unison as they stormed the cathedral behind Gordanus, then the Grandmasters, then B-Squad, and then, finally, my crew and I.

KABOOM!!! Instant ringing in my ears. I was partially blinded by the dust and debris. Blocks and pieces of stone and shards of wood and glass flew in all directions. The cathedral collapsed, raining down stone upon all of us. The pain was unreal--it blindsided me. Several glass shards were lodged in my chest. I didn't hesitate to think about how painful it would be for me to yank out the glass shards, but I did it anyway, with a face of extreme discomfort. I heaved, yanking out the shards one by one. Black blood began to ooze out of the holes in my chest, down my ruined white shirt. I was surprised my wounds didn't kill me. But it was horrifying to see so much black blood pour out of me.

As soon as I had walked into the building, I had stumbled blindly right back out, calling to my friends, with one thing on my mind: How did we get lured into another trap? Narceus was nowhere to be seen. A majority of the legionaries and B-Squad were unaccounted for. Thankfully, my closest comrades made it out alive, but barely. Jeriah's foot had been partially crushed, I knew as he hobbled around, and Brandon had some deep gashes on the right side of his face with black blood trickling downward. Austin seemed completely unscathed, being the farthest from the blast.

"DAMNIT!!" Jeriah screamed. "How could we be so dumb! Did no one think this could have been a trap!"

Austin responded, "I don't believe anyone thought of that, sadly. The Flesheaters that were on the roof? I don't think they knew they would be casualties. They couldn't have known. Orrus can't be far."

"You're completely right, Austin Clark," I heard Orrus's voice from behind, then the sound of a gunshot.

I turned to see Orrus and the rest of his followers amassed behind him. Austin seethed with contempt and with a hand over his abdomen as black blood seeped through his fingers. "How dare you!" Austin roared at Orrus. "Scum!"

"Get a grip. You'll live. For now,"

Micah stumbled from out of the rubble and debris, coughing harshly. Then he saw Orrus. "You… you motherfucker. I don't care if you are my brother. And I don't care if I hurt your feelings. You have no feelings. What you did here is abhorrent. And to think I thought serving you was the best option for me. Well, no more. I'm done serving you. "

"Do as you will, little brother."

"Your fun is about to come to an end."

The remaining legionaries and the remnants of C-Squad huddled together behind Micah and Austin, as well as the rest of us. Narceus must have been caught under all the rubble, still nowhere to be seen. I went ahead and joined the others, standing side by side with my battered, bloodied comrades.

Gordanus shook off all the rubble that had rained down upon him. He teetered his head to the left, then to the right, then back to the left. "Master?" No response. "Master!" The giant millipede whimpered. "Oh master! You couldn't have died! No! Please, no! Please be alive!" Using his head, Gordanus bucked the rubble aside in a desperate attempt to find his master. Then he stopped. "Master…" Narceus lay unresponsive, his body crushed and mangled. Gordanus remained silent for a few moments, then his expression grew dark. "These Flesheaters. They have no conscience. Master would want them all dead. All the bad ones."

Micah turned toward Gordanus, reassuring him, "We'll do just that. With your help, surely."

Gordanus nodded. "My name is Gordanus, stranger. Yes, I will help you and those standing with you." Gordanus crawled over to our side, then halted, before raising the front end of his body high into the air, perhaps thirty feet high, ready to strike with his tail end.

Orrus cackled. "Hot damn! You guys have a giant fucking millipede! It must be a hundred feet long! Ain't that something!" Orrus proclaimed. "I'll crush you, insect."

Gordanus harshly countered, "I'm not an insect! I'm a giant millipede. And I'll show you just what a giant millipede can do!" Gordanus' face turned sinister.

"Some big talk for a giant millipede."

Orrus holstered his revolver, then he raised up his bloodied battle ax and shouted at the top of his lungs. "Kill every last one of them!"

The battle was on. I knew our chances of winning were not exactly in our favor. To be honest, I was quite jealous of Brandon. He had a fantastic, shiny, powerful, magical orb he could use to command fire and flames at will. How amazing, I thought. I wondered if I would ever acquire a Promethean orb.

I realized I was daydreaming when an opposing Flesheater ran full throttle toward me with a pitchfork. Why a pitchfork? I thought. Then the adrenaline hit me. My eyes focused on the enemy. It seemed as if time stood still as the Flesheater lunged at me with his pitchfork. How easy would it be to just grab the pitchfork and yank it from his grasp? I grabbed the pitchfork and, to both mine and the Flesheater's astonishment, I broke the pitchfork over my right knee and threw both pieces to the ground. My enemy paled with fear as I displayed my fangs with a wide, bloodthirsty grin. The cowardly Flesheater turned back around to flee, but was intercepted by Orrus who knocked him to the side as if he was made of cardboard.

I faced Orrus, who stared at me with blackened eyes. He was huge, no doubt. His biker jacket was scuffed and smoldered, and his black leather pants a little ragged and torn at the heels, but he himself had not one scratch on him from the battle before. He really was indestructible. Or was I wrong?

"Hey, barfbrain, over here," Austin, weakened, attempted to draw Orrus's attention.

Orrus turned toward Austin for a moment, but then he turned back toward me and bared his fangs, as if he was going to take a bite out of me.

"Doofus! I'm the one you want! Screw the scrawny shitbag! I'm the real prize! You want revenge on me! Remember? Don't make me beat the memory back into you!"

Orrus, this time, turned to face Austin. Orrus was intent on slaying Austin--he charged at Austin full force in a blind rage, his battle ax angled high. Austin must've known Orrus would charge at him, and I did too. Orrus wasn't one to think things through.

Austin, seemingly about to fall over from the pain of his fresh wound, never faltered as Orrus came within several feet of him. Then Austin muttered, "Nigrum mortem." Black death.

Orrus halted completely in his tracks, his eyes no longer black, but white with fear.

Austin went on to condemn Orrus. saying, "You lose, Orrus. I could have killed you earlier, but you forced my hand. Now you're gonna die in the worst way possible."

Orrus' eyes returned to normal while his body began to erupt with dark, ugly blackish-purple blisters all over. He moaned for the first time, and the only time, that I ever saw. "Ugh!" He moaned loud, in agony, in severe pain. He clenched his throat with his free hand. "Ah!" He moaned again as he dropped his battle ax. He began to cough harshly, over and over, unable to stop. He began to cough up black blood. He spat the black sludge out on the ground before him, and went back to coughing. Orrus, wobbling side to side, could no longer stand, as he dropped to one knee, hunched over, coughing up what seemed to be a massive black blood clot. "Ughh!" His eyes were now riddled with blackened veins, his blisters growing to the size of golfballs. "You pig! You swine!" Orrus could barely talk now as he began to gurgle and drown in his own blood as his entire remaining squad was being wiped out.

Micah and Gordanus drew near, both surprised, yet mortified to see Orrus in his current state. Micah scratched his chin while Gordanus tilted his head and gawked at Orrus.

"Serves you right," Gordanus said in front of Orrus' face as Orrus failed to counter with a threat of his own.

Micah attempted an early eulogy. "So… This is how you die. Farewell, brother. What few remain of your gang are now loyal to me. I will steer them in a better direction, in a more noble direction. I'll be the leader the Flesheaters always wanted. I'll be the leader that they need. So, just finish drowning in your own blood, you good-for-nothing."

I had nothing to say to Orrus. He was scum. A loaded gun. A killer. A terrorist. He deserved a gruesome death. I didn't know much about his past, and I didn't care.

Austin confronted Orrus as he lay dying in the grass, as the bright, beautiful orange morning sun rose above the horizon.

"I understand," Austin sympathized. "It hurts. The pain. But you chose this path. We did not. We simply reacted logically. To eliminate you and your loyal subjects. As you can see, Orrus," Austin knelt at Orrus's side and pointed toward Orrus's few remaining loyal Flesheaters being slaughtered like cattle, "you have no backup. You have no trump card. Your gang, though it will live on through Micah and his followers, will never be the same. How does that make you feel? Makes you feel like a dumbass, huh?"

Orrus could only gurgle in response, the light behind his eyes fading fast. He attempted to lift his right hand toward Austin, but Austin simply swatted it away. "Don't even," Austin said. Orrus then glanced at Micah, then Gordanus, then me, then back to Austin. Orrus attempted one final sentence, but he couldn't even mutter a single word as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his right arm falling to his side. Orrus went limp, and, soon after, his body spontaneously combusted into long, flickering black flames so intense that I had to back away ten feet, producing a foul odor that smelled of death. The flames quickly subsided, leaving only ashes and embers.

"Good riddance," were the only words I could muster.

Brandon and Jeriah, together, joined me, both extremely hyped.

"Whoo! Hot damn that was a quick fight! You all should have seen me and Jeriah whoop ass!" Brandon laughed to himself, then looked around, his attitude immediately changing. "Where's Orrus?"

"Dead," Micah replied, his eyes meeting Austin's gaze.

"Oh," Brandon responded.

"I require something of you," Austin said to Micah, rising to his feet carefully, his hand still covering his wound.

"What would that be?" Micah replied.

"I need your Promethean orb. It was to be my payment for helping Chas."

"You mean this thing?" Micah pointed toward the shining yellow orb behind his gold-plated eyepatch. "You really have to have it? I'd hate to see it go."

"I'm afraid so," Austin confirmed. "A coworker needs it for research. Well, my coworker needs it for research."

"Really now?" Micah looked Austin up and down, then he reluctantly removed his eyepatch and removed the Promethean orb from his eye socket. "Fine. You can have the Sight Orb. I can live without it." Micah handed the Sight Orb over to Austin, who then put it in the same pocket with his Blood Orb.

"I thank you from the bottom of my heart," Austin said. "This Promethean orb will advance our company's research in more ways than you can imagine."

Micah replied, "What is your company's name?"

Austin smiled weakly. "It's the Future of Energy Foundation. The FEF. Heard of it?"

"Of course. Orrus talked about it a couple of times. Said your company conducted research on why his skin was impenetrable."

"We did," Austin replied. "Turns out he had a unique mutation. I saved a vial of his blood and had it put on ice just in case for future research purposes. Anyway, it appears all of C-Squad is finished."

"You are correct," Nicole confirmed as she waltzed over to join us with Evelyn and Atropine at her side. "Our goal here has been reached, but at a cost. Only eight legionaries remain, all wounded. Not only that, Narceus was crushed to death, if you hadn't noticed. We'll have to light a funeral pyre for both of them tonight and hold a ceremony for all the Prometheans that died last night."

"I am truly sorry. Narceus was a wonderful friend. It is very unfortunate." Austin acknowledged. "But life goes on. My friend, he will be missed. A lot. I may take some time to mourn over his death."

Atropine joined the conversation. "You can mourn over his death with the rest of us. We have plenty of wine and liquor that we don't care to share. All you have to do is ask."

"Thank you, Atropine. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to do a little drinking, seeing as how I'm already dead." Austin mustered a light chuckle, then seethed in pain as he glanced down at his wound. "I need to go ahead and take care of this wound."

"Indeed you do, friend," Atropine agreed.

Austin chuckled lightly again. He removed the Blood Orb from his overcoat, then held it next to his wound. "Recupera." Recover. The hole in Austin's abdomen sealed itself, leaving only coagulated black blood behind.

Jeriah pitched in. "You couldn't have healed yourself any sooner?"

Austin frowned with a single shake of his head. "I didn't think about it at the time. The pain itself, and the desire for revenge clouded my mind."

"I guess we're about done here, then?" Evelyn questioned the group.

"We sure are," Nicole agreed. "We can send a cleanup team to recover our dead. As for those of the Flesheater's B-Squad that perished. I'm sure what ashes that can be collected from the dead will be collected."

Micah frowned, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, telling the ashes apart from B-Squad members and from C-Squad members is an impossible task. It only seems fitting that our dead shall be memorialized on a plaque. I also promise that our tower will be renamed, and our gang will no longer be a gang, but an organization devoted to helping others. Our purpose will from now on no longer be to use and abuse our neighbors and to kill all who stand in our way. Our purpose will be to help others and to promote prosperity and goodwill, and we shall no longer conduct any kind of harm amongst others, unless it is in retaliation. And, most importantly, there will be no cannibalism nor flesh eating of any kind."

Evelyn replied to Micah. "That's a huge one-eighty for such a terrifying and menacing gang of flesh-eating vampires. I can count on you to make sure those changes you promise are implemented, Micah?"

"Rest assured, these changes will be implemented as long as I am leader of the Flesheaters. I already have a new name picked out. A fitting name."

"What name would that be?" I had to ask.

Micah smiled appropriately. "Goodwill Vampires."

Everyone laughed joyfully, happy that the day had begun on a good note.

Micah continued. "Me and the rest of B-Squad will make our way back to our tower and begin right away at making changes to our gang. I thank you all for your splendid help today. Orrus would not have been eliminated if it weren't for all of us banding together to stop him."

Atropine nodded in agreement. "And we thank you, Micah, for making the tough decision to betray your brother and the rest of the Flesheaters, and we thank C-Squad for rallying to our side. We shall never forget you and your gang's cooperation on this day."

Micah could only smile humbly in response. "Okay, okay. The remaining Flesheaters and I must really get going. We have much work to do. Good work."

Evelyn responded, "We'll be seeing you around, then?"

Micah nodded. "Of course. How about next Saturday? Fivish sound good to you?"

Evelyn nodded and replied, "Five sounds lovely."

"See you all later. Peace."

Micah then shouted out, "C-Squad, let's move out!" and all those remaining of C-Squad followed behind him.

"Well that went great," Jeriah said.

"Yeah," Brandon agreed. "Totally."

"Things definitely could have gone sideways today," Atropine responded. "I'm glad that never happened. But it is sad we lost some good folks. Do you all care to join tonight's service?" Atropine asked my friends and I.

The three of us replied in unison, "Sure."

"Great. It's about time we all left as well."

"True that," Austin said. "Let us all return to Promethean Territory."

Nicole rounded up the six other legionaries and we all marched back to the Prometheans' camp, exchanging our stories along the way, though we were all somber over our losses.