Invictus

“Arise, Gaius Decimus.”

His eyes snapped open, and he scrambled to his feet, hearing a strange, ghostly voice call out his name. His instincts took over, and he dropped into a battle stance, waiting to defend himself from an attacker.

There was nothing.

The cavern he had fallen into was completely black, and he could not see his own hands in front of him. His head still rang, and he could taste blood in his mouth. He looked up, trying to see from where he fell. Apparently there had been some type of cave-in following his plummet, as he could not even see the hole from which he came.

“Filius meus vigila.”

The voice again. Decimus breath quickened. Awaken my son? Was he hallucinating? Had the many blows to the head finally driven him mad? Gods above, was he dead? Was this his hell for taking so many lives? To be imprisoned in an abyss for all eternity?

“You still breathe.”

He swallowed hard. Something was not right. Had the voice just read his mind?

“Follow.”

Suddenly, a line of torches ignited, revealing that a long tunnel extended from the cavern. He was suspicious, and his gut told him to stay where he was, to not move. But yet another part of him knew that he had to explore the cavern… he could not merely surrender after all of this.

Decimus followed the hallway, and slowly he noticed that the tunnel was changing. The dirt and rock of the cave was being replaced by marble and worked stone. There was some type of structure underneath the earth. His pace quickened, he must know what is going on.

The torches ceased their light up ahead, and he slowed for a moment. He looked back, and saw the light of the fire. The abyss in front of him beckoned, but the boy in him still begged him to stop, to return to the cavern, to not go forward.

The wolf ordered him to go on.

He obeyed the beast.

He came to the end of the tunnel, and stepped into the darkness. Suddenly, the entire area lit up with the same mysterious fire, and he was taken aback. He was in a tremendous room, a cavern that extended farther than he could fathom. No… not a cavern. This was a temple.

The columns rose up beyond his sight, he could not see the tops. Marble adorned the walls, with elaborate carvings depicting scenes of battle and conflict that he did not recognize. There was a path before him, a stone walkway in the middle of a giant lake. But this water was not like any he had seen before. It seemed to change colors… from a bright fiery orange, like the river of a volcano, to a pure wine blue like the sea, to the deepest of crimson… blood. Every time the light hit it, he saw something else.

Decimus looked up the walkway, and something caught his eye. There was a wolf in the distance, standing on the middle of the bridge. The animal’s eyes burned with an unnatural fire, glowing with a fury beyond his comprehension. The wolf turned away, and continued down the path.

Decimus followed the wolf.

It never seemed to end. He followed the animal for what could have been minutes, hours, days. Time was useless here. Decimus did not care; he knew that he must follow the wolf wherever it went.

The path finally came to an end, and a stairway was before him, leading up to a massive temple. The wolf was gone now, and the silence once again got to him. It was far too quiet.

“Embrace your instincts. Come to me.”

Decimus started to climb the stairs when he heard the screaming. A deafening sound pierced his entire essence, and he almost collapsed at the noise. His body trembled, and his legs were weak.

He almost did not see the demonic fire.

Decimus leapt out of the way of a flaming sword as it crashed onto the marble steps where he stood. He looked up to see a monster, a skeletal corpse, adorned in a black armor, an iron helm upon its skull. The demon’s flesh was decayed, and its eyes were empty and the color of pitch. It wielded a sword engulfed in an unnatural fire, a sword that was trying desperately to eviscerate Decimus.

“Win,” the voice commanded.

The demon monster slashed again and again, forcing Decimus to continue dodging just to preserve his own life. He could not look directly at the beast, and he still could not bear its screams and wails.

The blade stabbed forward, and nearly impaled Decimus. The flame was close enough to singe him, and his skin felt as if it were burning.

Realizing that he had no other option, that once again his life was facing another threat, this time from a force beyond his understanding, Decimus let out a roar. It was an animalistic, terrifying war cry, and its rage drowned out the demon’s howl.

Decimus leapt at the demon, and drove his fist into the monster’s face. With a sickening pop, he felt the decrepit flesh break, and the corpse’s skull crack. Thick, black blood oozed out, and it burned Decimus’ skin. He swung again, and continued to pummel the monster.

The demon kicked Decimus back, and lunged at him. Decimus dodged the sword arm, and went for the skeletal beast’s other arm. He grabbed its forearm, and then brought his knee up into the limb. He crushed the bone, and the arm snapped off the demon, dropping lifelessly to the steps. Instantaneously, Decimus brought his elbow back up, swinging for the monster’s temple.

The clang of Decimus’ elbow upon the iron helm shocked him, and waves of pain ran up and down his arm. He stepped backwards, stunned for an instant. He then charged forward again, trying to tear the monster’s helm from its head. The two battled, the demon trying to get in a position to use its fiery sword against Decimus. The man finally ripped the iron helmet from the demon’s head, and he almost vomited from what he saw.

The skeletal monster snarled at Decimus as he stepped back, shocked by the visceral horror of the beast. Decayed flesh hung from its skull, the ruins of a man long fallen still clinging to an undead existence.

Decimus regained his composure and roared, swinging his powerful elbow again at the monster’s temple. His arm crashed through the skull, and the entire left side caved in.

He took a deep breath as the monster staggered, and fell to the ground. Decimus put his hands upon his knees, trying to piece together the horrid things that had transpired.

Gaius Decimus looked up just in time to see that the demon was not dead. He saw the flaming blade raised to the air. He saw the monster slash at his throat. Decimus screamed only for a moment when the burning blade severed his head from his body.

Then there was only silence in the great cavern.

* * *

“Filius meus vigila.”

The pain woke Decimus. He was on his knees, his hands clutched at his throat, squeezing as hard as he could. The demon had decapitated him, had cut his head off. And yet he still drew breath. But it was no dream. The demon still stood in front of him, raising its sword up for another attack. His neck screamed in agony, and Decimus believed that if he let go, his head really would fall off. The damned beast must not have made a complete cut. Accursed animal, at least give a quick death!

The demon stabbed again, and Decimus screamed as the blade drove into his chest, the point emerging from his back. The unholy flames burned him from the inside, and the sharp blade pierced through his very existence.

Again and again the undead monster ran him through, and Decimus convulsed with each stab, the blade driving deeper and deeper into him, the pain horrible and unbearable. He could not scream anymore, his voice was drained. The agony was terrible.

As the demon lifted its flaming blade, defiance filled Decimus. He did not care if it was hopeless, he did not care if death was only instants away, he would take this accursed monster with him!

Decimus forced himself to his feet, charged the beast. The demon steadied itself and pointed his sword forward. Decimus impaled himself upon the blade, and felt it drive straight through his heart. The two fell to the ground, and slowly, Decimus sank onto the weapon, driving the burning sword in to the hilt. He swung his fists again and again, consumed by a vicious rage. He crushed the monster’s skull, black, acidic blood splattering everywhere, burning Decimus’ skin.

He did not cease his assault until the demon stopped screaming its soul chilling wail. Decimus allowed himself a moment’s rest, and watched as the monster’s corpse dissolved in its black armor.

It was at this time that Decimus realized he was not dead.

He looked around the vast cavern, confused and uncertain as to what was going on. The wounds the monster gave him certainly came with real pain, but there was no blood. He felt his throat, and there was a scar in his flesh that burned his fingers. He looked at his chest, and black wounds were upon his body, the same as on his neck.

“Come to me.”

Decimus stood up now, and steeled himself. “I will not play this vile game any more! What is going on?!”

“Be victorious and you shall have your answers. Lose your spirit, surrender to the pain, and you shall become part of the undead legion…”

“Legion…?”

The hall was now lit. He could see the massive temple ahead more clearly, the unnatural torches illuminating everything now. But that was not what most concerned Decimus.

It was the thousands of monsters, adorned in the same demonic armor, and wielding unholy weaponry, wailing the laments of the devil that caught his eye. A giant demon lifted up a horn, and blew upon it, the earsplitting sound cutting through to Decimus’ soul. The undead legion howled, screaming a war cry that nothing on this earth could match.

Then there was silence.

Gaius Decimus picked up the slain demon’s sword, its unnatural fire extinguished. It was nothing more than a simple iron blade now. Untold thousands, armed with the weapons of the devil himself against an old sword and a two fists? Fair enough. Decimus tightened his grip upon the blade and smiled. He started to walk towards the legion, then began to run, charging the monsters. He raised his sword and roared with ferocity and intensity that more than overwhelmed the combined war cries of the demons. He threw himself into their front line, and the killing began.

* * *

The first demon’s sword had long been broken. He had gone through spears, blades, shields, clubs, and daggers. His bones had been crushed and reformed by the same unholy power that allowed him to survive the cut that should have taken his head. Wounds should have taken his arms, his legs, his heart and his organs. Decimus’ entire body was covered in the same dark black scars, and the pain almost brought him to his knees. “Almost,” he snarled as he crushed the skulls of two monsters against each other.

He grabbed the giant battle axe of a fallen enemy, and swung the massive weapon like a madman, cleaving demons into pieces. The beasts’ black blood splattered over him, burning as it touched his skin, the sting of an evil poison.

Decimus had been fighting for days now. He hungered, he was weak, but his spirit would not leave him. A soul of pure spite, pure hatred and rage drove him on. He would not surrender to these demons, these beasts. They dare to challenge him? He would kill every last one of them, send them to meet the sullen god in Hell.

The axe swung down and impaled itself in the skull of a demon. Acidic blood shot out from the split bone, and the monster convulsed violently. Its spasms broke the axe blade from the handle, to which Decimus responded by swinging the wooden pole like a staff.

The demons overwhelmed him again, and he was cast upon the ground. The damned soldiers piled on top of him, driving their weapons into his body again and again. He would not allow them the honor of a scream as a dagger stabbed into his eye. He would not surrender as a spear was put through his throat. A sword went into his heart, an axe through his arm. He lay upon the unending stairway, unable to move. His strength had finally left him.

Darkness overcame his eyes, and his body became heavy.

At was at this point that he realized that death was simply not an option.

His hands clawed up and out, fingers digging into the eye sockets of a demon piled on top of him. He ripped at the monster’s eyes, gouging them out, and used its skull as leverage to pull himself up. Decimus tore a gladius from the hands of one demon, slashing out with the blade, and killing any who dare stood in his way.

He burned with an unnatural fire, all consuming, giving him power that few men could even comprehend. It was the fury of the wolf… it was his spirit, his soul, fueling him and giving him unending strength.

They burned before him.

He slaughtered them all. They kept coming, and each fell before his own unholy flame. They stone staircase was soaked in demons’ blood. Skeleton corpses littered the steps, dissolving into black ash.

Gaius Decimus’ body was covered in scars, the pitch black, unnatural marks of weapons that assaulted not the flesh, but the soul. He marched towards the top of the steps. The entrance to the temple came into view. He had fought the endless legions of hell to reach these doors, for what goal he knew not. What did it matter? It was survival. It was the burning desire to live for a moment more. Decimus would just not die. It was not an option.

“Did you think you were done yet?” The voice was like a screeching, like that of an animal’s wail, and a man’s death knell. “I shall send you into the abyss.”

Decimus looked up to see the undead corpse of Hrodgar, the bandit king. His eyes were sunken, his flesh decayed. A sickly, murderous smile was upon his face. “I seek vengeance, Roman dog. The king of the underworld has allowed me to join this merciless legion… But where they failed to stop you, I shall cut out your eyes.”

Decimus continued to walk towards the German, who was brandishing a massive broad sword in each hand. Decimus clenched his fists tightly. “It seems you’ve become more eloquent in death, thief.”

“A thief?! A thief?! I am a king! I am the marauder who slew thousands! Countless trembled at the mention of my name!” Hrodgar started to swing his two broad swords, back and forth making a storm of blue steel. “There are no cheap tactics here, no confusion or battle to distract me… I will avenge myself, and tonight, drink from your skull!”

Decimus did not stop. Hrodgar swung his sword, and Decimus ducked. He swung the other, and the Roman side stepped it. Decimus revealed a small dagger held in his belt, and put the blade to Hrodgar’s neck. The jagged knife, stolen from a long defeated monster, cut through Hrodgar’s dead flesh, and slit his throat.

The marauder fell to his knees, his eyes already rolled back into his head. With no regard for the fallen bandit, killed a second time by the wolf, Decimus walked to the entrance of the temple, and threw open the doors.

Hrodgar, the once feared bandit king, died once more, his soul now extinguished, the darkness enveloping him as he lay in a pool of his own blood.

* * *

The two giant stone doors opened with a load roar. The inner sanctum was dark, with only a small flame burning in front of an altar at the center of the chamber.

Decimus stepped in, approaching the altar. “I have questions I demand answered!”

Silence.

Decimus cried out again, “Damn you! I have killed your cursed legions, I have slaughtered them to the last god damned corpse, and now I am done playing your twisted games! Show yourself, you vile creature, or I swear to the gods above that I will kill you just the same as your demons!”

Suddenly, the stone doors slammed shut with a thunderous boom. Decimus clenched his fists. No simple parlor tricks would scare him, not anymore. He had fought through the pits of hell itself to reach this damn temple, and if he would not be thrown from his course.

The fire at the altar swelled to a tremendous inferno, the rush of heat hitting Decimus, singeing his skin. He clenched his fists, his will unbreakable. “Enough of this!” He screamed. “Enough! Show yourself!”

“You dare to question me, boy?”

Decimus spun around to face the same voice that led him through the unholy gauntlet. He saw a figure clothed in a crimson cloak, the hood pulled over his head. Despite the intense fire, shadows hid the figure’s face. “I am no boy.”

“You think you are a man now? You think that because you have fought some battles, killed some men, that you are a man now? You are a child in my eyes. You know nothing of manhood, of power.”

Decimus lunged at the robed figure, his fists clenched, “Dog! I will – ”

The figure lifted up his hand, and Decimus was halted in midair by a terrible force. He was thrown backwards and slid along the stone floor until he collided with the altar. “Dog? Gaius Decimus, I am a god!” The figure cast back his hood.

The flame at the altar exploded once more, revealing the entire inner chamber. There were countless statues, depicting the same warrior battling monsters… giants, of an origin that Decimus could not place… yet at the same time, recognized as if he had seen them himself… as if he had fought them using his own hands. A slow, terrible realization came over Decimus. The warrior in the sculptures… it was the man who stood before him.

“I am Mars, Gaius Decimus. Welcome to my home.”

Decimus felt his confidence waver a bit.

Mars lifted his hand, and Decimus was pulled up into the air, hovering a foot above the ground. The god of war squeezed his hand into a fist, and suddenly, Decimus was choking. “You are strong, boy, in this land where the soul is a man’s source of strength… But you are no god.”

The grip was released, and Decimus fell. He gasped for air, and then turned his eyes upon Mars. He let out a roar and charged at the divinity. Mars lifted his hand up to counter, and just an inch before Decimus’ fist would have connected with Mars’ palm, an invisible force stayed Decimus hand. The echo of the impact was like thunder. Decimus swung again and again, Mars continuing to parry with his mysterious powers.

Decimus came in with another punch, an uppercut at Mars’ chin. The god stepped back and dodged, the smoothly moved out of the way as another fist came at his head. The god of war flowed like water, dodging with ease. As if to mock Decimus, Mars put his hands behind his back, a smug smile upon his face.

The Roman kicked at Mars’ knee, but the god hopped up over the feeble assault. Decimus charged, leveling a haymaker at Mars. He dodged, and Decimus’ fist crashed into the temple wall, cracking the stone. Without hesitation, Decimus threw the same elbow back at Mars’ head.

“You are good, Gaius Decimus,” Mars stated as he continued to dodge the attacks. A fist came closer, nearly grazing him, “Excellent!”

The praise was only infuriating Decimus more. God or not, after all of this, after an eternity battling hordes of demons, this was his reward? A god insulting him? “Shut up, you damned beast!” Decimus roared with an unnatural fury, and swung with all of his might at Mars’ jaw.

The god did not have time to dodge this attack, and was forced to raise his protective barrier. Decimus’ fist thundered against the god’s awesome power, but Decimus was relentless. He continued to attack, sparks starting to flash upon impact. The sound was deafening, and the very foundations of Mars’ subterranean temple shuddered. His fist continued to drive at the god, slowly pushing through the invisible protector.

Mars’ concentration was strained, and for an instant, he wavered. Decimus did not hesitate. A left hook caught Mars on the jaw, barely brushing against him.

The god staggered back, and Decimus halted, “Fear me, god, for I am Gaius Decimus, the wolf.”

Mars put his hand to his chin, rubbing the spot where Decimus struck him. “Well done, Decimus. I knew that I had not chosen poorly.”

Decimus fell to the ground, exhausted and strained beyond belief. He sat on the temple floor, gasping for air, his strength finally emptied. “What do you want from me, god?”

Mars stood tall now, adjusting his armor. He was dressed in the full battle dress of a Roman soldier, his crimson cloak hanging upon his shoulders. “You have unfinished business, do you not?”

“There are many who need to die at my hands still, god,” Decimus spat.

“There are two in particular… no… There is only one that you truly desire the death of…”

“Falco.”

Mars nodded, “Yes… your betrayer. Intriguing.”

“Intriguing? How is that ‘intriguing’?”

“I will offer you the chance to avenge yourself.”

Decimus stood up now, emboldened once more, “I do not need your assistance, god of war.”

“Oh… but how many times have you called upon me in battle? How many times have you felt my spirit empowering you to do what is necessary to survive? But no, no you do not need my assistance. It is I who need you now, Gaius Decimus,” Mars said. “You have an important role to play in the things that are to come… As does Cassius Numerius Falco.”

“He will play no role!” Decimus roared, “As soon as I am free from this infernal place, I shall cut him down.”

“Indeed you would. But you have not heard me, Decimus. Your destiny does not merely lie in murdering a treacherous centurion. No, son of Rome. You will become my instrument, and when I call upon you, you will fulfill the will of the gods. You will wander the earth until you are needed… You will become a legend among men… and… And you will have your vengeance in time.”

“If I refuse?” Decimus said.

Mars laughed, and shook his head, “You will not refuse. I know your heart. You desire a life of adventure – of glory! You live for the thrill of battle, the honor of the hunt! You are indeed the wolf, Gaius Decimus. You will not refuse me, because I know that despite your annoying insolence, you do respect the gods. You know your destiny lies with me. Take up your sword and become the avenger!”

“I bow to no one, man or god. I will not be a pawn.”

Mars suddenly drew his gladius from its scabbard, and put the tip of the blade to Decimus’ throat. The wolf did not flinch. Mars nodded, and turned the sword around, extending the handle to the mortal. “That is why you were chosen.”

Decimus wrapped his fingers around the handle of the sword, and took it from Mars’ hands.

* * *

“Decimus!”

Gaius Decimus looked around, and found himself face down on the frozen earth of the woods of Gaul. His ears rang, his head pounding with an agonizing dull pain. He put his fingers to his eye, feeling the scar Casticos’ knife had cut across his face. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and realized that he was not in Mars’ temple. He was lying on the floor of a shallow cave in the dead frozen forest.

“Decimus! You are alive!”

Decimus snapped out of his reverie at the sound of his name, called out by a familiar voice. Where was he? What had happened to the temple? Where was the god? He did not have time to consider his questions before two figures came into view.

“Quintus? Sextus?”

Marcus Quintus and Sextus Valerius, riding upon two brown horses, approached the cave quickly. They hopped down from their mounts, and ran to Decimus. “Ha! I knew we’d find you!” Quintus said as he put his hands upon Decimus’ shoulders and then pulled him in for an embrace.

“You are resilient indeed, Decimus,” the veteran Sextus Valerius stated, nodding his head.

“What… what’s going on?” Decimus questioned, his voice hoarse.

“Casticos and Amminos must have gotten in a few shots to your head, eh, comrade?” Quintus said.

“When the two Gauls did not return from your ‘exile,’ Quintus and I slipped out under cover of darkness to come find you. At the very least, to give you a decent burial,” Sextus said.

“We found their bodies about three days ago, and followed your trail here,” Quintus continued.

“Three days…? How long… how long have I been gone?”

“You really must have been hit too many times! It’s been over a month since you were taken out of the village!” Quintus said.

Decimus finally looked over himself. His beard was ragged, unshaven stubble, his hair long and filthy, matted to his head. He was wrapped in his wolf’s skin cloak still, his tunic torn and battered. He noted that he was starving, and felt as if he had not eaten anything substantial in days.

Had he hallucinated it all? Was it nightmares brought upon by the concussions? Decimus felt for the scars left by the demon’s blades, looking for the pitch black marks of the unholy weapons. His skin was unmarked, the only scars the ones he had before entering the subterranean hell.

Hallucinations… yes. That was it. He had not fought legions of the undead, and then challenged Mars himself. A terrible dream brought about by head trauma and lack of food; a metaphor for his struggles to survive in the wilderness, his mind’s method of coping with the trials.

“Are you okay, Decimus?” Quintus said as he pulled his childhood friend up to his feet. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No… No Quintus, I am fine,” Decimus replied.

“Good, then let us finally begin the journey home… away from all of this.”

As Decimus stood up, the sleeves of his tunic were pulled back. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a new scar on the inside of his left forearm. Decimus pulled back the sleeve to get a better look. It was fresh, blood still present in the wounds. “Ultor sum…” Decimus muttered, reading the mark tattooed into his flesh. “I am the avenger…”

Had Decimus carved that into himself during his delusional madness? He put his fingers to the scar, and felt a rush of power and force that made him cry out. It was the same strength and power that he felt when he fought the demons… when he unleashed every fiber of his being upon Mars.

“Decimus? Something wrong?” Sextus asked.

“No,” Decimus shook his head. He mounted one of the horses, and looked over the dead forest, covered in snow. The sun was beginning to set in the west, a red light cast upon the woods. “But Quintus… We are not going home. There are things I must do.”

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley.

NEXT: The Journeys of Decimus Ultor Begin!

[This message has been edited by Vasta (edited 06-30-2005 @ 03:46 AM).]