Mammon dragged Llorente mercilessly through the thin woodland, the soldier had long since lost the will to struggle, his absolute terror unmanning him.
Mammon said nothing; his blood smeared face resolutely pointed forward towards the nearest portal. His hand flexed around the transmitter in his pocket; the sooner he got away from this godforsaken zone the better. Pulling the mechanism out, he saw that the light was now shining a steady blue. Dragging Llorente to his feet, he pushed the activation button once and smiled thinly as the portal opened.
As it shimmered to life, Mammon began again to drag a now screaming Llorente through; the soldier having recently recovered his voice.
The sudden arrival of Ngulu the Broken changed everything. Limbs smashed Mammon to the ground, stomping and tearing in the Demon’s haste to save his new Master. Cornelius for his own part was unconcerned, and showed it as he casually turned and threw bolts of power into the mass of creatures behind him. Someone was repeating themselves and he did not like it.
The Ambryn were a threat, but he saw them now more as a nuisance. They were in his way. He wanted the creature from the fighter. Somehow Cornelius knew that he was to blame for this, and above all Clari’s death. He had long ago forgotten about his sacred quest, the mystical Blade and the Taartun prophecy. Butt wanted blood, death and revenge. Not necessarily in that order.
Llorente opened his eyes and tried to understand why he could see stars, or rather a star. Its incessant blue blinking helped to clear his vision and it all came rushing back. He could see Mammon crawling towards him, dragging his useless limbs behind. The sound of weapons fire, and lots of it, forced his attention away momentarily, and he felt an enormous relief at the sight Burns, although the rampaging demon did make him wonder about his companion’s choice of allies.
Then he swore, as even viler creatures pushed their way through the portal, and grabbed at the transmitter, scrabbling at the ground nearby where it had fallen. Frantically he stabbed his finger against the buttons on its surface; one of them had to do something!
A clawed hand stabbed into his thigh and Llorente mewled in pain and exasperation. He bunched his fist and hit down, mashing a series of buttons randomly in his haste. Various scenes flickered before his eyes; demons, screaming soldiers, knights in shining armour and even a fair-skinned blue-eyed angel, before the portal began to shrink. Burns’ hand grabbed his collar and the hot gases from his rifle curled past Lllorente’s head as he was pulled away from the oncoming monsters.
Mammon saw the portal shrinking and also tried to crawl to safety. A clawed hand snagged into his flesh and he was inexorably pulled into the diminishing dimensional doorway.
“Help me!” he screamed, his eyes pleading.
Llorente pulled away from Burns and scrambled to his feet, running towards the struggling Mammon.
“What are you doing, idiot,” shouted Burns, stalking forward, his rifle snarling death.
“I can’t leave him like this…” said Lllorente, swinging his foot forward and stamping down on Mammon’s hand which scrabbled in the nearby soil, “I need to give him all the help he deserves.”
Burns shook his head, as Lllorente laughed in manic glee. Two more clawed hands snatched a wailing Mammon away and the portal closed with a final snap of air.