Daimon - DANIELLE BOLGER (best fiction novels TXT) 📗

in seamlessly with their hateful glares.

There were around fifty of them in number, and each one I knew was once a daimon. We will defeat you, Smoke's voice echoed in my thoughts.

Christ, don't tell me I've got to fight fifty daimons!

These daimons appeared confident as they floated and flittered through space; I was awkward, like taking my first steps as a toddler, and possessed far less skill than even the least threatening of them. I really may have bitten off more than I could chew.

“So, how do you wanna play this? How 'bout you fight between yourselves, and I'll verse the champion?” my unheard voice posited hopefully, but unfortunately, it seemed their answer was no.

One flew at me from the left. I managed to duck with a release of photons from my head, but then another came from below. I shifted past, moving into another to the right. I repelled myself from that one back up again and—thump—was sent flying through space.

It took me a moment to put on the breaks. When I was moving slowly again, I took a quick glimpse to survey my attackers. This time, they were surrounding me from every direction; the way they networked was not unlike a cage.

Again, I saw the flicker of movement just up to my right. Instead of dodging, I blocked this and countered with a fist of my own. From underneath, one was going for my solar plexus, so I grasped another creeping to my left and threw him downward. My back cracked as a heavy weight soared into me from behind, which sent me flying forward and into the fist of a rather angry looking woman. She greeted me with a back-kick just under my sternum, winding me, then landed an elbow in a soft spot just back around my neck, sending me downward. There was someone there, too, who anticipated my arrival, but I put on the brakes and shot back up to the unsuspecting woman, with an uppercut to her jaw.

Someone else made their way in. I noticed in time, grabbing the leg that was meant for me, and I sent him soaring through space. A punch connected with my cheekbone, but before I could be tossed myself, I grasped that same hand, gave a hook of my own, as well as a good kick to the groin, and threw him into where another woman was approaching me.

Relentlessly, they came for me; little jabs here and there; some connecting, some I managed to evade and counter; some causing searing blows to my unconscious body. I wondered if that was their ploy—kill me here, and kill me in the real world?

A foot appeared out of nowhere, right over the top of my head, and the heel ploughed down with a weight far greater than our small masses were capable of on earth. This sent me flying down to where a man smashed me in the jaw, and another head-butted me before doing a spin-kick to send me into another flight-path.

The forces they managed here were incredible, each holding so much power, but it seemed the lack of a wall or floor allowed that energy to dissipate so that I was not hindered for long. This held true for my opposing army as well, where all fifty bounced back with frustrating ease.

Someone to my left; I greeted them with a kick. Another below; I gave them a backward swipe with my heel. Some little shit from above punched my jaw and dazed me for a moment. They took this opportunity to go at my torso again and again. Then jab to the head, jab to the solar plexus, and back to the head.

I grabbed that fucker's arm, kneed him in the sternum and delivered a blow just above his eye. The bone cracked under my knuckles. He backed off, and another woman jumped in.

My fatigue increased substantially. Perhaps my attacks were causing less effect, but still each of my aggressors managed only a few blows before the next one made themselves known; none with any real purpose to finish me off in my weakening state.

I dodged a man swooping at me from below, and another to the right, but then one connected back below and nudged me to the right, and behind. That was when I realized—this whole time, I was being guided toward something.

Another made a kick at me and I failed to react in time. Again, I flew behind and to the right. I slammed the breaks on fast and took a moment to look carefully in that direction. I had one moment to see it; a little black dot, far in the distance, but so immensely black that it could not be missed; a faint hue shone around it.

I remembered my school science teacher say something with unabashed excitement: “This object is so dense, that, after a certain point, nothing can escape it, not even light. With these, exist a certain horizon—a point of no return. You would never know if you ever crossed it, but someone behind you would. They would never see you take that last fateful step. They would only see your image fade away, and finally disappear, as if you were no more than an apparition. No one knows what occurs on the other side of the event horizon; some think it's a gateway to another dimension, a wormhole maybe. Even if such a wonder did exist, the gravity there would be so great it would crush your bodies into non-existence. Whatever is on the other side, I know that I wouldn't want to find that out personally.”

I still had that moment to gape in horror at the little black ball in space. It was a long way off, but even with my breaks on I could feel it pulling at me like a rip in the ocean. I remembered enough to know that my science teacher's point of no return existed for light only, but other matter would fall prey to the mass gravity far sooner. It was far away, but with its pull against my light body, it was very possible that I was already ensnared by the black hole.

Thump. Another being kicked me right along the spine, sending me closer to my impending doom. I realized they had no fear of it since that was what claimed them already. Their hunt of me was just to add another victim to the hive.

The blackness grew a little before me. It remained small as I shot my breaks on, but its size could not be diminished with any distance. This was Smoke's core, his power. The onslaught renewed; attack after attack. Not too forceful, but quick and swift. It was enough to prevent my swift recovery. The key to all their blows was that I was getting nearer to the black marble.

I could gain no ground; only lose it. Little by little, I was being directed into that black hole, and I knew that very soon it would apprehend my mass and pull me into the heart of its chaos. I could do nothing to stop my progress towards the dense blackness. The darkness was calling, and soon it would be my eternal cage.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I remembered the black-shadowed man from my childhood nightmares; the one I named the boogieman. I knew he was evil, he was a form blacker than black. No light reflected off him to give color to his features. His clothes even melded into the darkness. This man of no-face was intent in causing destruction, feasting on light; never to shine any in return.

He wanted to take my light; this I knew, for the boogieman frequented my dreams often, and each time stole a little piece. I always ran and hid, but never managed to evade him. He always discovered me, and painfully drew my light into him. His black hand would reach out, touch my dream-form and greedily feast on the brightest part in my core. Fortunately, I would wake up before he could snatch it all. I would sit up in my bed, and scream and sob. My mother used to cuddle me and tell me that it was no more than a dream. She was here and she wouldn't let any nasty boogieman get me, but at times, my father would walk in on my rants. In my most youthful years, he cuddled me and absorbed my tears on his shirt, but as I grew older, he grew less patient. By the age of nine, he made it apparent that he would not tolerate any more night terrors. After that, my mother wouldn't even visit me when I awoke screaming. One morning, where my eyes were red from a night of endless crying, my mother hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear that while she may not be holding me tightly under the covers, she was always there with me. Not to fear, her love would never leave me, and so long as we had that, we were invincible.

It seemed my parents had different views on parenting, but my father proved to win without question. That was what made me strong, brave in the face of calamity and grow into the endless fighter. I only wished that my mother had refrained from coddling me as much as she did in the later years. I was tough, but I was not unafraid. Rarely, with cringingly greater frequency in the past few days, tears etched down my face, and proved as a display to the rest of the world that I was not as strong as I should have been. So many have looked on me with sympathy, all the while thinking: what a weak little orphan girl.

Whack! Thump! Kapow! Wham! Groan...

I fought them back—deflect, counter, dodge— but more often than not, the attacks were landing, and most disconcerting of all was the fact that the black spot was growing; now slightly smaller than a golf ball, but with a drawing force so strong I had to keep consistently expelling energy towards it to stop from being pulled inside. That reminded me of something: it was the size of the sun, over a million kilometers across, but upon its death it was supposed to contract to the size of a golf ball, too, while still possessing the same gravity.

A black hole is much denser than any normal white-glowing dead star. I couldn't remember just how much denser things became with a black hole as opposed to an ordinary dead star, but I knew that at this point, even if only on a subconscious level, the force would have been enough to crush a person under the sheer weight.

Sure, because fighting fifty daimons isn't hard enough, I have to contend with a bloody black hole, too.

Another attack came at my left ribs; the blow had enough impact to crunch the bones, despite the lack of hard barriers to instigate a large impulse.

I turned on the attacker, put a hand around her back and shoved my other through her throat. With my hand around the back of her, there was no place for the energy to dissipate except back into myself, but I was not going to allow any attenuation to my force. This nuisance would feel it all.

Droplets of blood misted into the non-air and held there motionless for a moment as if confused on what they were supposed to do now. Eventually, they fell back behind me and soared with alarming speed towards that distant black doom.

I pulled my hand free and dropped the foe I held captive. She brought her hands to her throat in a look of alarm. Clutching at it, feeling the blood, she did not know what to make of it. She was panting heavily, so panicked she forgot that breathing mattered little here. She was a daimon, but also only a little girl. As she clawed frantically at her throat, she writhed and squirmed, and screamed silently on the spot. Surely, as a part of another's subconscious, she could not die here—could she? Did she even really exist to begin with?

Someone else sent a kick into my spine, plunging me closer still to the ball of nothingness, which swelled to the size of a snooker ball.

I fought off one, and then two attackers, and had a quick glance around. They were still encircled around me,