How Did It Get To This?

The coagulated blood splattered against Thax and Max, the crimson essence searing their skin as Max hissed and tried his best to wipe the thick ichor from his face as he hoped that Vice would counteract the foreign substance, but it wasn't working too well. A large group of corpses surrounded the two, stirred water rippling with each move as more seemed to be produced by the earth. Each body varied in different states of decay, the smell putrid as the smell of bloated bodies forgotten seeped off their bodies and assaulted Max's nose. The air was like a thick pestilence that pained Max to suck in breaths when he needed them.

Though the poisonous stench was aiding him, it didn't help that he still had to smell the rot physically. His stomach churned and bubbled as the endless waves of corpses of differing races continued to rise from seemingly nowhere, and like a stubborn hydra, for every one they cut down, more seemed to take its place. The mass of walking dead was becoming a problem for Thax, too, who was proficient at dispatching the undead.

Bodies bloated, decomposing, falling apart, only barely held together with a mix of magic and a unique parasite that infested the bodies. Some were just skeletal remains that had bloated innards that were oozing with the repulsive hoards of parasites, no longer having a semblance of their former life as their unholy screech only seemed to echo through the marsh.

Clambering masses of bleached bones with chunks of meat, others swollen from being waterlogged, the sight was abysmal, Max only occasionally lashing out with magic and sword to cull their numbers. He just wanted to make this manageable, but that was out of the question the moment they awakened the hoard.

Thax had a distinctive fighting style that better suited his 'curse' that resembled some MMA with an array of pummeling, kicks, strikes, acrobatics, and counter-attacks. To compare it to a fighting style from earth was difficult, but with instinct, he recalled a multi-national series of sports competitions that had a similar effect. Taekwondo, focusing primarily on kicks and acrobatics, but even then, it was difficult to pinpoint just what was mixed with Thax's fighting.

Max barely had time to comprehend the sudden movements of Thax, watching the snake move in such a fluid movement that he thought he was watching the ripples from the actions take shape. Like a boa striking their prey, Thax lashed out as his right foot was firmly planted into one of their attacker's sternum. Once the foot met its mark, Thax suddenly launched himself upwards, grabbing the creature's skull and slamming his knee into the forehead, demolishing the center of the ribs and sending a mushy mess of what little grey matter remained with a mix of nasty parasites.

Young Max found it difficult to tear his eyes away from the scene, but he had more pressing issues to tend to as his body ached from all the movement he was performing while his mind idled at the show of Thax. Instinct Foot Work was coming in handy as Max hardly had to pay the surrounding mob mind, avoiding and dancing through their attacks almost like he was a performer admiring the main act.

As a rotting arm made a downward swing past Max's face, he was torn from la-la land and back into the fray of battle, suddenly cleaving one of the decrepit cadavers in twain as the gut-churning creatures within the corpse struggled to keep the body from splitting. He was toiling to properly decode these creatures as the two continued their best to keep the ever-looming threat to a minimum. Suddenly Max and Thax were back to back as they stared down over twenty of the zomboid like creatures, slowly enclosing them as Max suddenly felt a warm and wet cloth pushed to his face.

This was a signal as Max speedily tied the cloth to his face; he prepared himself for whatever Thax had planned. Like a child imitating a crocodile's massive jaws with its hands, Thax had his arms outstretched, and fingers were acting like teeth. His deep blue eyes seemed to glow green as Max watched, mystified.

"Roar Leviathan! Demonic serpent's poison cloud!"

Betwixt Thax's hands, an orb of swirling greens and purples gathered, Max swore he saw a creature take form with open jaws before an echoing boom of a clap shook him. His concentration took hold once more as he saw the zombies weaken and the parasites trying to flee from their hosts. Max saw this as an opportunity to be rid themselves of these pests, beginning to gut as many he could. Each slash with the sword would cause entrails to spill from the wounds as his sword was starting to decay from the acidic blood.

This didn't seem to be enough; even upon splitting them in two, smashing their joints and bodies, the creatures kept getting back up, all be it crippled but formidable all the same. When the rotting mess of puss and bowels would fall on the ground, the worm-like creatures that further fueled the zombies' longevity would fester and begin looking for a new host.

Thax knew what would happen if the parasites entered the body and the sight was anything but pretty. Their enemies were the results, but his poison was slowing their advance, each kick and shattering of the joints was causing the hosts to become more inert, but Max was giving the worms a chance to escape. He had to keep his only friend safe, had to keep the worms from getting Max.

Max was on a slight rampage as his instincts roared for blood and gore, for a mess to be made and his enemies to be nothing more but gunk under his boot. Max felt the incredible rush from the warm water, his skin feeling as if it was on fire as he had an idea. He looked back to see Thax holding him under the water as Max felt embers of an unknown feeling begin to ignite his soul as he managed to escape Thax's grip and breached the surface of the water.

He gathered the surrounding air in his right hand, practically making a vacuum as his left was engulfed in a dark red flame. The blaze roared in his hand as the air was violently moving like strong winds from the mountains in his right; in a sudden movement, he brought the two magics together as an overwhelming bout of blaze engulfed the area. Max was thrown into the air as everything seemed to fade for a moment; how did it get to this?

Last night after the meal, he remembered Thax asking for Max to stay for a bit and hunt, sensing the somehow matured Lizardfolk lacked kinship with others.

"Please, Max! Thax is begging you to go hunting. If ya do, the village will give you armor and like you better! The Sanguine isn't too hard, and with both of us, it'll be easy! I promise Thax promises!"

Max sat in the dark, mauling it over as he wasn't sure what to do. On the one hand, he was wasting valuable time, but on the other, armor would be nice considering that he only had ragged clothes that he kept having to mend with spare materials. The choices before him were not the keenest for him as Max laid restless for the night. His mind was like a stew that needed constant attention with all the stirring going on.

As the morning sun rose, Max had made up his mind. Everything from here on was cut and dry until the two happened upon what looked like the aftermath of a battle from long ago. Soon after, the dead had risen, and the fight began. An urgent buzzer went off in his head, eyes snapping open as he was laying in the mud, Thax's lips against his own as the snake performed CPR. Max was startled as he pushed Thax off and began to panic.

Max was flustered as he tried his best to spit out any venom he could, his blood feeling cold and his skin raw from the accidental explosion. Everything was still attached but his body ached, he could feel the broken ribs being mended by Vice and Thax's poison as he groaned and shook his head.

Gears began to slowly turn, Max's face turning bright red and a flustered feeling spread through his core. His face became flush as he gulped and gently touched his lips cautiously. Thax stole his first kiss!