Re:Cursed

They were given no time to prepare before the challenge started. A tug at one kid's arm and he was standing out in front of the line of observers. The Fleshsmith removed a panel from the surface and unceremoniously tossed it off to the side. Beneath, a bowl of sand was revealed. He whipped his fingers through it, then uncorked a bottle of a black liquid which filled the lines he'd created.

A few candles were tossed to the side. The wax melted for only a fraction of a second after impacting the hard surface, leaving them welded upright. Each ignited immediately.

The fleshsmith began a hymn, and the lines in the sand glowed red. They spread to the courtyard. Runes carved into the surface lit up in a circle fefore him. From a box, he pulled out a slab of meat. With as little care as any of his other actions, he tossed it into the core of the ritual circle.

The steak never hit the ground.

As if sinking in a pool of water, the prepared meat chunk slowed. But its defiance of gravity was hardly strange. Slowly tumbling through the air, the medium morphed and twisted as the ritual sunk its fangs into it. Tissue bulged and expanded. Nyxil watched as a fetus took form from a butcher's cut. First, the small limbs. Then the tail. And finally a snout.

The moment the jaw formed, a howl ripped from its undeveloped throat. The boy who'd stepped forward — urged to go first by his bracelet — took a hesitant step back. As did many of the participants that were still gathering.

With the canine shape crafted, it's maturity rapidly accelerated. From what could be mistaken for an unborn whelp, a vicious dog came into being. Wispy motes of black dust rolled off its form like smoke.

A hound-spawn.

They were far from considered strong — usually only useful for their noses, like the living creatures they come from — but against a bunch of unevolved teens? Deadly.

"You each have three minutes. Make sure to survive. You won't impress anyone if a puppy kills you."

The unfortunate first boy had no more warning before the hound-spawn leapt at him. Only barely did he dodge the snapping jaw, but a glancing blow to his shoulder sent both him and the dog sprawling. He jumped to his feet, hand fumbling for a ritual knife. The hound-spawn growled, and rushed him again, leaving not a second respite.

He, like so many others around, did not come prepared for a fight. Was he like Ari? A challenge he wanted hadn't appeared and this was what he foolishly decided was his best bet? Or had he actually intended to take on the harbinger path without making even the most basic preparations. At least Kal's little group splurged on some swords… even if those swords were a scam.

Looking around, Nyxil found those three standing off to the other side of the waiting participants from her and Ari. With only fifty around, they likely had many instances of the challenge going on at any one time. If they grouped ward-mates together, then of course the Fleshsmiths would know which to infiltrate.

Nyxil was worried. What were they planning? There was so much he could control as the coordinator. It was impossible to foresee what might be coming her way.

She glanced the way of the cult representatives. Surely the Fleshsmiths would do anything obvious. Their goal should be either her capture, or preventing her from reaching the harbinger trials. Solan wanted the perfect sacrifice for herself. The more attention Nyxil gained, the worse. This meant that while she couldn't be allowed to reach the later trials, they also wouldn't want to reveal to the other cults just how much interest they had in her.

Who wants competition? Solan certainly doesn't.

But even if they have to be subtle about it, Nyxil had no idea what to expect. She'd been lucky with that needle before. If it had been someone faster, she would have been jabbed. While vitiate was ineffective against her because of her enhanced toxin removal ritual, what was to say that someone who was faster wouldn't also have a far more dangerous poison?

"Nix." Ari's concerned voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "I'm next."

She was looking down at her bracelet, where it twitched visibly to Nyxil. Now that Ari said so, she noticed her own band giving the slightest of tugs. If she had to guess, her turn would be between tenth and twentieth.

Unstrapping her belt, she handed Ari her blade. "Try to keep your distance and give me time to work. If it gets close, drive my blade down its throat. It'll be easier to aim when it pounces."

It was the only thing she could think of. The boy had done well. He was quick, and had even cut the spawn with that small knife of his, but ultimately it wasn't enough. The beast sunk its fangs into his legs, and with an agonised scream, the challenge was over.

The Fleshsmith broke a line in the sand, and the hound rapidly collapsed back into the small chunk of meat from before. The boy bled profusely. While he clutched his leg in pain, the cultist dragged him to the side of the courtyard before returning to his ritual circle and fixing the sand.

"Next!"

Ari took the offered blade, but she wasn't looking anywhere except at the bloody leg of the boy who went before her. "I don't think I can do this, Nix. Maybe it's better if I just give up."

"You're not giving up." Nyxil nudged her. "Dan would hate to be the only one tied down to a cult."

"If the next challenger doesn't come up right now, it is an instant fail. You won't have the opportunity to show off your incompetence." He gestured at the boy clutching his leg. One of the other participants kneeled at his side, but nobody else moved to help.

Ari, with Nyxil's sword held in an awkward grip, slowly approached the centre of the courtyard. Another steak was tossed, and in seconds a hound-spawn stood before her. She had a moment of reprieve as the dog leapt for the remaining meat of its recent kin, but it only lasted two bites before being swallowed.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Nyxil struggled to think of how she could help the girl without being too obvious about it. There were so many tools available to her, but what wouldn't be noticed by the cult representatives? There were some fifth and sixth creeds amongst them. She didn't want to take her chances in case any of them could detect the visual shift if she used her tentacles or acid to assist Ari.

Instead, she slunk further back in the crowd, and lowered her shroud. As with all her other senses, it had taken some time to see with her third eye through the body-coating film of her armband. She didn't trust that it would go unnoticed if she used it on anyone, but a spawn can't speak.

Ari shivered as the beast turned its attention to her. Her fear was obvious to all. She stood stiffly, as if asking to be knocked over with the slightest push. At least she managed to raise the blade. Nyxil hoped she would remember to thrust it forward when the time came.

The hound gave her no time to settle. It growled and dashed. Ari yelped and backpedalled, and Nyxil could only be relieved that she didn't suddenly shut her eyes or drop the sword.

With her heart racing, Nyxil watched the dog's steps. The moment it tensed to leap, she narrowed the focus of her third eye until a hole melted into the side of its head.

The hound-spawn yelped and howled. It spun in the air, trying to change coarse towards Nyxil and the crowd around her, but it couldn't fight against its momentum. A black, wispy shadow had no issue changing directions as it slipped from the dog's form, and rushed the gathering of kids. Many leapt out of the way, but the shadow dissipated long before it reached them.

Hound-spawn, like so many other manifested creatures, could be difficult to deal with in corruption dense regions, as they could manoeuvre through it in a way that most people couldn't. But here, in the corruption-free safe zone? They were nothing more than aggressive puppies.

Albeit, puppies with sharp teeth.

Having forgotten Ari, the hound stumbled its landing and tried to clamour for the crowd immediately. With no better opportunity, Ari struck. The thrust was shallow, and glancing, but she did cut it along the neck where a bunch of important arteries would be if it was a living dog.

Unfortunately, spawn aren't living.

With its attention returned to the girl in front of it, the beast's snout snapped forward. It was an unintelligent creature, yet even it hesitated to leap while the side of its head was being drilled into.

Ari swung the blade. With fear and desperation guiding her motions, the weapon struck the side of the spawn like a club. For someone who had only a bit more weight beneath her than Nyxil herself, she managed to hit the beast hard, but at an odd angle, the sharp edge of the blade was made worthless, and the dog continued on, near undisturbed.

Nyxil's gaze burst an eyeball in the creature's skull, but she quickly realised that she wouldn't be getting through bone before the fight was over. She could melt the brain in thirty seconds, but Ari didn't have thirty seconds. Instead, she turned to the biggest threat to Ari's safety; the canine's muzzle.

The musculature along one side of its jaw melted away in seconds. With even the tendons gone, it couldn't bite nearly as hard. She tried to peer through the soft tissue of its mouth and burn away the other side, but it moved around too much and she never got a good sightline. Tossing that goal aside, she focused on blunting the teeth that snapped at Ari. Its canines gradually rounding at the tips.

But blunt teeth don't stop the dog from barrelling into the girl.

Ari tumbled to the ground. A weight followed her down, growling and snapping and drooling in a feral hunger. The dog's jaw only half worked, and yet it didn't stop it from trying to bite her face. Ari was petrified. Only her arms held the beast at bay, pushing against its neck.

The sword was long gone; lost in the impact. Nyxil watched with growing dread. Was there anything else she could do? Nothing short of diving in there and helping directly would change anything, and that would surely have the girl disqualified. Gritting her teeth, she turned the gaze of her gem back on the skull of the hound-spawn. Hopefully, Ari would hold out long enough for the dog's brain to become mush.

Ari was lucky the beast wasn't any heavier. Her grip wasn't perfect, and the vicious spawn kept trying to claw past her guard. She was hyperventilating. She was panicking, and yet she never stopped fighting.

Blood and shadowy motes tumbled from the open wound across the side of the dog's head, and spilled over Ari. Her arms were drenched. Her face covered. Nyxil pushed harder, trying to force her eye to consume with as much force as it possibly could. That newly evolved name of hers should be able to boost its performance in the same way her claws grew stronger. But how?

Nyxil didn't get the chance to experiment. She watched as a change overcame Ari. That terror thrumming through the girl's veins shifted to a desperation for survival. A hand clenched, and surprisingly, she took a chunk of muscle, skin and fur with it. The mass of soft tissue and blood squeezed in her hand, and she tossed it away before going in for another handful.

This time, she grabbed a fistful of shoulder, and Nyxil's eyes widened when Ari pulled away to reveal what had been untouched skin and fur now supported a deep gash revealing bone.

Instead of tossing the handful of flesh, Ari slammed it into the beast's neck. She grabbed another handful, and did the same. Even before she went for another, the beast was howling. Its broken jaw snapped at air, but couldn't get it any closer.

When Ari's hand landed on the side of the hound's muzzle, Nyxil finally got a look at what had become of those handfuls. She gaped, never having expected such an application. Lodged in the dog's neck, were two bone paintbrushes.

Snatching from the bloody heap of the dog's head that Nyxil had already been working at, Ari forged another brush. Coated in skin and cartilage, another bone brush took form. She slammed the brush in through the side of its already weakened skull, and struck brain. Dog hair bristles held stiff from the end of the stick buried in its head.

If that wasn't enough to kill the hound-spawn, then Nyxil's sudden access to the soft brain inside ended it.

Ari shoved the beast off and scrambled away from the corpse. After gaining a few metres, she collapsed to her side. Breaths came quick. Her eyes glossed over as she stared at the dead dog.

"Killing with paintbrushes… can't say I've seen that before. At least not literally," The fleshsmith said. "Now hurry and join the rabble. Next!"

"Wait." One of the Bodytwister representatives stepped forward. "Your name?"

Ari looked like she didn't want to move, so Nyxil moved in to help.

"Ari-ai," she managed as Nyxil grasped her arm, pulling her to her feet.

They walked out of the way of the next challenger. Ari leaned against her shoulder, exhausted. She unstrapped her belt and passed back Nyxil's sheath as Nyxil bent down to grab her weapon. "I don't ever want to do that again," she grumbled.

Nyxil laughed. "And if I told you that little fight earned you an additive?" She might have taken a peek. "You did great."

That seemed to strip away some of the exhaustion from the girl's eyes. "What? Really? What is it?"

"You'll have to figure that out for yourself later." Nyxil shrugged.

"Return the sword." A voice suddenly yelled after them. They turned to find the Fleshsmith pointing an accusing finger their way. "There will be no sharing of resources in this challenge. The brush girl already used the blade, so you will have to find something else."

Nyxil stared. Behind him, many of the representatives gave curious or confused expressions, but none stepped in to refute him. If they wouldn't, there was no point in complaining. She sheathed the blade and handed it to Ari.

"Fine." She glared at the Fleshsmith obviously abusing his position. "Hold this for me, will you Ari?"

"Are you sure? Don't you need this?"

Nyxil never stopped glaring at the coordinator. "I think I'll manage."