The Distortion

Blood slipped into his mouth; it was dripping from his temple.

Ugh, how do vampires drink this…?

His whole world flared up in sparks after that hit. Fierce pain jolting through his body clashed with a confusing dizziness in his head. Made for a charming combination…he could almost see those spinning birds around his head. Still, he wouldn’t complain. Had it been anyone else beside him or the samurais, their body would have been obliterated.

Laith did however worry about his bleeding left arm; the suffering was excruciating. He could still feel it thankfully, which meant the worst outcome was avoided. He checked if he could move it, which he still could. Another relief. Even though he was right-handed and didn’t use his left arm much for combat, it was still needed to maintain some balance in his body—much like a racer still uses his arms even though he runs on his legs. Fighting the Oni with one functional arm would be a grueling task, a lot more than it already was. Luckily, Laith didn’t have to worry about that, for now.

He moved away the pile of rubble trapping him arduously, only to notice he was tangled up. His outfit was an utter mess, his turban and the upper part of his tunic almost fused together into one piece of cloth. Untangling his garments was the last thing he could afford to waste time on when an Oni was standing in front of him. With his right hand, Laith just ripped off any form of clothing nuisance mindlessly and effortlessly. His mama would throw a fit if she found out how her clothing was treated, but Laith would explain it to her when the time came…or probably not. She would probably pass out the second she would hear the word “monster”.

He dusted off his pants before rising to his feet. He grabbed hold of his scimitar before unsheathing it and throwing away the scabbard. Unnecessary weight needed to be discarded, the fight had to be engaged flawlessly. Laith walked out of the wreckage he was stuck in with sure steps, standing tall once again. He was lean, impressive brawn with exceptional muscle definition, but by no means was it considered massive. On the contrary, seeing him from afar, he could easily be mistaken for a skinny man. A typical wiry build.

The blow he just sustained might have been a mean smack, but it served as a much-needed awakening both physically and mentally. It stopped his shaking, it helped clear his mind, it allowed him to regain his focus, it ignited that fire necessary to stand up to the beast in front of him.

“COME BACK ONI, WE ARE NOT DONE YET!” he replicated the same voice from earlier, much more determinedly this time, provocatively even.

The monster fell for it right away—he was curious how someone survived a swing of its club—whilst the few still present at the scene were astonished that Laith was yet again willing to go through the challenge—more of a thrashing really—once more. One man, however, had to shake off his astonishment quickly; he let the first and most foolish attempt slide, but not this one.

“You idiot, stop playing the hero, you’re gonna get yourself killed!” Adam yelled at his brother as hard as his vocal cords allowed him to.

Adam’s retreat was threatened by the Oni’s rampage, stuck in an unfavorable position behind the first boulder he encountered, out in the open. Despite his brother’s attempts, he couldn’t find an opening—that he deemed safe—to slip past without being noticed. All Adam could do was pray he would escape the monster’s wrath. A Scholar like him had no business being in the midst of this mayhem, much like his brother had no business standing where he was. And yet neither Adams’s warning nor the abomination facing him made his younger brother budge.

Laith spat the blood in his mouth and took a fighting stance.

“My job is to ensure everyone’s escape, it just so happened that the exit was relocated.”

“This is not the time to be cheeky, no one is expecting you to defend them from that thing!” Adam’s voice was reaching its limit.

“Maybe not, but I choose to do it anyway. ’Always stay true to yourselves, stand for what you believe in, and never forget to fight for what you think is right’. Call me crazy, but I’m only doing what I think is right.”

Their father’s words…Adam didn’t expect to be reminded of them in this wretched mire of a situation. Any rational individual in their current predicament would think about one thing and one thing only: getting the hell out of there. Not Laith and Ibrahim Kacem. Apparently, his younger brother had taken after his father in his stubborn and irrational—almost absurd—behavior a lot more than Adam had accounted for.

Before the Distortion, and away from all this madness, their father was a lawyer, a militant one at that. He made a reputation for himself as someone who never backed away from justice, no matter the consequences; if he believed his cause was just, he never let go of the fight. Dangerous people had tried to threaten him and his family on multiple occasions—giving birth to his wife’s paranoid and overprotective demeanor—and even that wasn’t enough to faze him. Their father believed that the moment he compromised his values was the moment he lost the battle. He never gave anyone an inch because he knew he’d be giving them a mile.

In Laith’s mind, the raid was over; there was no need for more blood to be spilled. He believed he had the power to stop the Oni from causing any more damage, so he stepped in. That was his stance on the matter at hand, which was fairly reminiscent of how his father often viewed critical situations in such a black-and-white fashion. The gravity and danger of it were irrelevant, if you were in a position to intervene, do it. As simple as that. Adam had nearly forgotten that his brother had spent the first four years of the Distortion alone with his father; it was only natural to be that much influenced by him.

That experience shaped Laith’s character a great deal…and thinking about it, so was the case for Adam.

Despite their long separation after the Distortion, his father’s mindset rubbed off on him alright, Adam just failed to notice it. He too was similar to Laith, in more ways than he would care to admit, and thus had no right to chastise him for his behavior. Him embarking on this journey to begin with was predicated on the same logic his brother was following right now. It was simply easy to forget what you initially stood for when faced with a demonic monster running amuck.

As tough as it was, Adam found himself with no choice but to believe in Laith, to put his trust in his brother, to have faith in him because that might be their only salvation from the current despair. Adam decided he would stick around and watch him, even though every brain cell ordered him to run away. Whatever his brother would go through, Adam would be there to see it through; he owed him that much. That was the only way he could think of to honor Laith’s display of bravery.

Adam held his breath and prayed for his younger brother as the Oni resumed his onslaught.

The ogre closed the gap with seismic steps and brought down his weapon to flatten Laith. The latter lifted his scimitar and blocked the Oni’s club with the flat of his sword. He did stop it, but for how long could he withstand it? It was heavy, all of it, the club, the monster, the strike…Laith felt it in every part of him, in the nicks of his blade growing larger, in every bone in his body being two cracks away from breaking, in his veins nearly strangling from the same blood they naturally hosted, in every muscle fiber almost torn under the immense pressure.

And yet, Laith would not yield. His legs would crush the very ground they stood on before getting crushed themselves. His feet sunk deeper and deeper, grinding against whatever was on their way as the monster kept pushing his club down. Laith’s legs kept getting swallowed up, almost knee-deep, before the Oni stopped. Or rather he was forced to stop, the monster could no longer continue his attack.

It was as if the whole world froze during that single frame, a human in a pitiful attempt to resist the mighty slam of an ogre and not get submerged by the earth beneath him. The sight couldn’t have been more misleading. It was actually the human who was triumphant.

Laith managed to fully withstand the blow using his weakened left arm to further support his scimitar. Before the Oni could even think of following up with another attack, Râad pounced on his right arm seemingly out of nowhere. The tiger hadn’t left the scene just yet, he was just as stubborn as his friend. Laith took advantage of that slight opening where the Oni was distracted and successfully pushed the spiky club away before slashing the monster across the torso. Laith’s strike did visibly no damage; his blade was unable to pierce the Oni’s flesh. It was harder than anything he had come across in his years of slicing wood, stone, metal and flesh. The monster’s durability being in a different league was to be expected from a creature of this reputation.

The Oni did however stagger back a few steps after being hit. A sign that he was not invulnerable.

“In the words of good old Gandalf, ‘You…shall not pass.’”

And just like that, the Oni’s continuous rampage was fended off, Laith successfully pushed him back. No, they successfully pushed him back. The fight had just begun, but that little exchange made it clear that it was no longer a one-sided massacre. Even the mindless ogre had realized it, a fact that led him to a state of complete frenzy. He was enraged and started roaring, snorting and randomly bashing his club against the ground. However, despite his bestial tendencies, the Oni maintained a level of intelligence. It wasn’t long before he regained some focus and directed all his rage towards his two adversaries who looked him straight in the eye, not intimidated in the slightest.

“Alright buddy, you keep going after that right arm. It’d be nice to weaken how much force that thing puts into that club.”

Râad roared, agreeing with Laith who was weighing his options at the same time. Usually, when it came to giant targets like the one facing him, going for the legs was the optimal approach. However, the Oni’s back and chest had bruises all over them making them more vulnerable targets, unlike his legs. And even then, the task promised to be quite challenging as proven by their first altercation.

Laith didn’t like the prospect of the fight extending for too long, he would rather end this as quickly as possible. Fighting a battle of attrition was never an issue, fighting in unknown territory was. There was no guarantee that more reinforcements wouldn’t come, perhaps even people outside the castle would get involved. He’d rather not deal with that.

No more thinking. The fighting resumed.

Laith and the Oni charged, their weapons clashed, shaking the air around them. The ogre had the upper hand in that collision, the resulting shockwave hitting Laith like a violent earthquake. However, the Oni could not capitalize on that opening since Râad was there to play his role as a constant nuisance to the monster, clawing and biting its enormous forearm. Once again, Laith took advantage of that single heartbeat to rapidly swing his scimitar twice at his opponent’s chest.

Still no sign of clear injur—

Before he realized it, a club was in his face. The Oni wasn’t pleased with the situation as he furiously smacked Laith directly in the head, pelting him with his pesky tiger immediately after. The monster let out a boastful roar. Having been flung several meters away, Laith recovered quickly alongside Râad unlike last time; they were fully warmed up by now. A stream of blood was dripping from Laith’s temple, his left eye constantly blinking. It was safe to assume that he could no longer rely on it for the rest of this fight. Nowhere nearly enough to render him useless though.

The fight had just started.

Again, Laith charged side by side with his tiger. The same strategy was to be applied, except this time Laith needed to avoid crossing weapons with the enemy. The impact he felt in the previous two clashes was not pretty, best not overexert his body. This time Laith skid to his knees, sliding below the massive club coming his way. Following Râad’s routine intervention, he propelled himself forward with herculean force to hack the Oni’s chest three times.

I’m starting to really doubt whether this thing can blee—

A kick right to the gut…Laith sent flying again…a tiger followed. He gently got Râad off of him, coughing up blood. Laith’s natural skin color was barely distinguishable by now, it turned into blood-red—the injuries were piling up. The same happened to Red’s orange fur. They very much resembled the monster in front of them.

Still, they stood up.

Again, they charged.

Once in range, the green monster swung, but Laith leapt up, landing on the enemy’s weapon. He began running atop the massive spiky club. The Oni wanted to push him off, but Râad dug into the ogre’s forearm once again, opening the way for his companion. Laith struck in quick succession. Violet blood spurted from the ogre’s broad chest. The Oni bellowed in agony. Both Laith and Râad pulled back rapidly for fear of getting sucker-punched—they had enough of that

Ten slashes to force your blood out…fantastic…

Laith realized how much longer this bout would last; it was concerning. The current pace was far from ideal, definitely not living up to his hopes and expectations. He needed to find a way to speed things up, a way to tear through that green skin more efficiently.

And he recalled something that might just be the solution to his problem.

“Alright buddy, I’m gonna have to ask you to distract him for a little longer just this once. You don’t have to hurt him, just buy me some time.”

Râad grunted in agreement before he charged back. The tiger was content with maneuvering around the Oni, confusing the latter with unpredictable movements, leaping above his club, sliding beneath his legs, latching onto his back…Red was truly a pest and his victim was accordingly distracted.

A perfect scenario for Laith who, despite running circles all around them, went unnoticed. Sparks flew from his scimitar as he forcibly dragged it through cobblestone, the friction generating a heated blade, metal tinged with a bright light red. He resorted to a similar approach the last time he faced an inhuman specimen in the form of two droids. Although the two opponents had almost nothing similar about them, the same approach should, in theory, be effective in this instance as well. Any form of heat should soften the hardened skin thus making it easier to penetrate.

Body entirely soaked in blood, Laith raced in a wide perimeter surrounding the ongoing, ridiculous-looking scuffle between his companion and the giant Oni. After completing a total of twenty laps, Laith swiftly changed his course and headed back for the main attraction. Blade still rubbing against the floor, Laith whistled with the help of his left arm, a muffled sound coming out of his mouth—blood was to blame. Regardless, Râad immediately caught on and moved out of the way lest he get caught in his friend’s attack.

And what an attack it was.

Laith poured all his might into a broad sweep across the open chest of the distracted Oni. The air itself seemed to have been sliced in half, the Oni’s tough flesh standing no chance against the upgraded scimitar. Purple blood splashed on Laith’s skin, mixing with his own crimson blood…a delightful new formula to cleanse your skin…Still, that didn’t stop a satisfied grin from being drawn on Laith’s lips.

This attack comes in pretty handy; I should probably give it a name while I’m a—

It was already too late when he noticed the massive shadow over his head. The giant club slammed him to the ground so hard he bounced right back up like a basketball. While still hovering, Laith tasted the club once more, this time like a tennis ball, crashing farther away than any previous exchange. Poor Râad was next. While his attention was averted to Laith, the tiger found himself suddenly caught in the monster’s grasp—he did entirely fit in his palm—and thrown in the same direction as his human friend. The green Oni unleashed a wrathful scream. He didn’t take very kindly to being toyed with by a lowly tiger and having his chest sliced by a puny human. The monster was dead set on returning the favor.

Laith emerged from the debris he found himself under, slicing whatever was in his way. He couldn’t be bothered anymore, Laith would cut down anything in his path right away, Oni skin or otherwise. Laith then freed Râad who was struggling to do so himself.

“That’s what you get for goofing around, naming your attacks like a Shonen manga protagonist…” He muttered.

He slapped himself and spat some more blood. While Laith was pleased to have found a way to inflict damage faster than before, he was not pleased with how the Oni was just roughing them up like rag dolls. It was disheartening, borderline depressing, to be reminded of how large the gap in strength between them was. Nonetheless, there was absolutely no way he would back down after all his efforts. Laith, alongside Râad, must finish this.