The Lord of the Mutants, part 4

“Take the sword!” Elysia yelled at him.

But the stunned Frey was in no condition to heed the advice, and besides, he wanted to spill blood. He took an unsteady step toward Oleg, who was standing where he had left him, howling as he clutched his nose. Then, hearing Frey's staggering footsteps, she looked up and let out a tremendous bellow of anger and pain. He rushed toward his foe, crouching low and arms outstretched, intending to once again ensnare the dark hero in a deadly embrace. Frey remained where he was as the monster charged into a thunderous race towards him, as unstoppable as a runaway horse-drawn chariot.

Elysia didn't want to look… The mutant was big enough to crush Frey, but she couldn't look away in horror.

Oleg reached where Frey was. His massive arms began to close, but at the last second Frey ducked and dove between the monster's legs, then spun around and lashed out with the chain, which wrapped around the mutant's ankle. Frey pulled towards him; Oleg lost his footing and fell full length, the chain uncoiling like a snake.

So, Frey wrapped a chain around Oleg's neck, and when Oleg stood up he dragged Frey with him.

Frey's weight tightened the chain around the neck of his enemy, and Frey used it to stay where he was and climb until he was behind the mutant's neck, where he continued to tighten it. The skin on Oleg's throat turned white, and Elysia realized that the dark hero was trying to strangle him.

Slowly, the same thought seeped into the monster's atrophied mind, and she raised both hands to her neck, intent on loosening the grip of the chain that was killing him. She took it and tried to get her fingers inside the links, but they were too thick and the chain was too tight. She then reached behind her hands to grab the attacker from her, but Frey lowered her head and pressed closer to him; then she began to make the chain run from one side to the other, as if it were a saw. Elysia saw drops of blood oozing from where the links wounded him.

At that moment, one of Oleg's hands grasped Frey's crest of hair, and he held it for a moment as he tugged at it, but then the fingers slipped from loss of coordination from lack of air, and an expression of frustration and fear began to appear in the monster's eyes.

Elysia noticed that the mutant was beginning to weaken; Suddenly, she panicked and threw herself backwards against a wall, where she slammed into Frey with overwhelming force. But nothing could make the dark hero loosen his grip, and Elysia doubted that even death could loosen the chain now. She saw that a glassy gaze had come over Frey's eyes, and that her mouth was half-open in a frighteningly fierce smile.

Oleg was slowly weakening as his strength left him, and he slumped forward on his hands and knees. A horrible rattle emerged from his throat before he fell to the ground and lay motionless. Frey once more tightened the chain to make sure he was dead, and then stood up, panting.

"Easy," he murmured. "He was hardly worth killing."

"Get me out of here." Elysia protested.

Frey went to get his greatsword, and with a single blow he set it free.

The catgirl ran to retrieve her sword from her as sounds of turning lathes, great metal gates being raised, and the howl of a bloodthirsty horde reached them from above. They barely had time to prepare before the door to the lab was flung open and a frenzy of mutants surged down the stairs.

Elysia thought she recognized some of the creatures from the previous battle, and she realized that this was where the mutants had come from.

One lunged from the landing, its reptilian eyes glaring at him with bloodlust, and Elysia used a blocking thrust through its chest, then let her arm fall forward under the mutant's weight, so that the body slip off the blade and set it free. The brand of monsters continued to advance, inexorably, driven by a killing frenzy and by the weight of those who came behind. Elysia found herself in the center of a thunderous whirlpool of violence, where she and Frey fought back-to-back against the mutated freaks.

Frey foamed at the mouth and made a huge eight in the air with his bloody sword. Nothing could get in his way without being knocked down, and with chains still hanging from his wrists, he cleaved crimson gore through the mass of enemies. Elysia followed behind him as she finished off the fallen with a thrust, killing the few who made it past the sword barrier.

On the landing at the top of the stairs, Elysia saw Roger, who had picked up his staff again. The bluish glow danced across her face, illuminating the entire scene with hellish light as he chanted a spell; Suddenly, a green bolt shot from the staff, arcing downward, narrowly missing Elysia.

The mutant standing in front of the catgirl wasn't so lucky; his hair singed, and his eyes bulged. For a moment, she danced on stilts of pure magical energy, then fell to the ground a twisted black corpse. Elysia jumped to the side, not wanting to be the target of another beam like that, and Frey lunged forward and cut in two a mutant that was making its way to the bottom of the stairs.

The lightning shot out again, but this time it was aimed at Frey, who was not as lucky as Elysia. He hit her square in the head, and Elysia thought that she would finally see the dark hero meet his death. Frey's hair stood on end, and the runes on his sword shone with crimson light, as he uttered a bellow that might have been a final curse directed at his gods; but then something strange happened. The green glow passed cleanly through his body and he continued to run down one of the chains he still had attached to his wrists, hitting the ground in a shower of sparks and disappearing harmlessly.

Elysia almost burst out laughing. She had heard of similar things. It was called grounding; the same principle that allowed the metal rod of a lightning rod to conduct lightning energy harmlessly to the ground had saved Frey. She took a moment to consider that, and then she unsheathed the dagger she was carrying hidden and tossed it to Roger.

It was a good throw, well aimed and accurate, and the weapon plunged into the repulsive warlock's chest. She stood there for a moment, trembling, and Roger stopped chanting the spell to look down at her; then he dropped the staff and clutched the wound. Greenish blood oozed from the slit and stained the witcher's fingers, who gave Elysia a look of hatred…then turned and fled.

Catgirl turned her attention back to the scuffle, but it was already over. The little mutants had shown, once again, that they were not worthy rivals for the dark Hero's sword. Frey stood triumphant, his muscular body covered in blood and ichor, while his sword gave off a faint glow.

Elysia ran past him, up the stairs, and out into the hall, where she found a trail of greenish blood leading away around the hall and around after a stack of open, empty cages. She deduced that the mutants had come out of them, no doubt the product of Roger's repulsive experiments.

“Let's free the children and get out of here,” Elysia said.

"I want that witcher's skull to make me a mug of beer!" Frey replied, and spat.

Felix grimaced.

"You're not serious. Certain?"

"It's just a figure of speech, Elysia."

But from the expression on Frey's face, Elysia wasn't too sure about it.

♦ ♦ ♦

They were moving down the corridor toward their goal, and the thought of saving the children gave Elysia some comfort. At least in that case, Ella and the dark hero would have a chance to do something good: return the creatures to their parents. For once, they could actually act like true heroes, and the catgirl could already imagine the tearful faces of the relieved townspeople as they reunited with her offspring.

The noise of Frey's chains being dragged across the ground was starting to get on her nerves. Turning the corner of it, they came to a door, but a single blow from Frey reduced it to firewood; then they entered a room that had obviously once been Roger's study.

Light from the huge silver moon streamed in through a single, very large window, and the witcher was slumped across the desk, where his green blood was spilling onto the open pages of a massive leather-bound grimoire. His hands were still moving, as if he was trying to cast a spell that could save her life.

Elysia caught his hair and pulled his head back to look into her eyes, the green glow of which was fading, and she felt a wave of triumph wash over him.

"Where are the hostages?"

"What hostages?"

"The children of the village!" Elysia snapped.

"You mean my test subjects?"

Elysia felt cold terror wash over her, for she knew where she was going to end up. Her lips almost refused to mouth the next question.

"Did you experiment with children?" Roger gave the catgirl a crooked grin.

“Yes, they are easier to transmute than adults, and they grow to their full size in a short time. They were going to be my conquering army…, but you have killed them all.”

“We have killed… all of them.” Elysia was stunned, and the sight of her being feted by jubilant parents evaporated. She lowered her eyes to the blood that stained her hands and clothes.

Suddenly a blind rage, hot as the fires of hell, seized her. That maniac had turned the town's children into mutants, and she, Elysia, had helped kill them. In a way, that made her as guilty as Roger. She thought about that for a moment, and then she dragged the warlock to the window and looked out over the sleeping town, which lay at the bottom of a long vertical drop.

She gave Roger a moment to consider what was about to happen to him, and then she gave him a hard shove. The glass shattered as the warlock plunged into the cold night air. As he waved his arms, his scream echoed through the darkness and took a long time to fade.

The dark hero looked down at Elysia, a malevolent gleam in his eyes.

"I like your style. That was very well done, Elysia. Now let's go say a few words to the innkeeper, because I have a score to settle with him."

“Put on your armor and other magical items first; then let's set fire to the castle” answered Elysia, frowning, and she went out to turn that cursed place into a gigantic funeral pyre.