Filled with anger and bitterness, Syrus almost couldn't even enjoy watching the foe shredding in pain from his work. He still enjoyed it, but it was mixed in with the anger, and he felt it probably wouldn't be enough. He didn't know where it came from, but he appreciated the holding spell that kept the enemy in place. If only it held, he could've done more. In an impressive display, Kain weathered it all and freed himself and was upon him in an instant, isolating him with yet another barrier. Alone again, for the moment. Until the others could bypass Kain's tricks, he was on his own, and he had to act fast.
Most any opponent would be overcome with fear, but already aware that he was completely outmatched, Syrus had only his resolve. Driven not by fear, only by anger, he faced up to what stood before him. What actually came was initially more of a disappointing surprise. Surely, Kain had to know of his resistance to things like fire and lightning, though the ice was a new trick not fully understood by Syrus himself. These attacks he fended off easily, but he was caught unprepared for the follow-up. The force of the incoming hits filled the prince with pain while relieving him of his air. Not nearly reacting in time, the kick caught him right in the head, rattling the brain, dazing and opening him up for the next attack. It wasn't so much the lighting, but the force of the kick.
Kain's hand shot out right into his chest cavity. Syrus grabbed the arm just as the hand entered. His facial expression was full of shock. His mind and his heart ran into overdrive, the last remnants of a dying flame. Grasping the enemy's arm, he took what power he could to keep himself going, to keep himself from completely shutting down. A futile battle; it would come, soon. Then his eyes shifted. His face displayed but one emotion, the one thought going through his head at the time. An emotion he still couldn't completely think of. In a low growl, he put into words the only way he could think of to express it, but it wasn't nearly enough.
"I. . .I. . .h-hate. . .you."
Not like this. At the very least, his pride could be somewhat maintained. A prince like he shouldn't go out with a scream, nor with a simple whimper. Even then, broken and dying, giving up was not an option. If only it could be so simple. With the last of his strength, Syrus brought out one final offensive. He'd planned for something similar, his plan since then adjusted for this very circumstance. Hands clasped around Kain's arm, covered in his blood, he holds as tight as he can, claws digging in. He'd never properly tested this, but it was as good a use of his new abilities as anything. His body fluids began to move, to gather and spread, to move up Kain's hand and his arm, then to solidify and crystallize. The chain unwraps itself from around his body and, like a snake, moves to wind itself around Kain's arm, then the rest of him, then constricting to hold him in place. Every shard of every blade was brought in toward Kain, not to shred, this time, but to embed itself deep within his very being. And finally, out of every wound on his body since inflicted, by Kain and by himself, from his arms and legs, his ventral cavity, and his face and skull, the blood burst out in spiky crystals to impale the enemy standing in front of him.
All throughout, his mind rushes and his final thoughts rest upon a girl, an immortal demon with genocidal tendencies who had first taught him to respect and to care about himself. Blood obscuring his vision, she is the only thing clear in his mind. Her smile, and her crying. Her touch, her kiss, her warm embrace. This all started because of her losing a loved one, and now it seems he, too, is walking out on her. Maybe Dreius is right and it really is her fault. But then, why do I feel like I'm the one letting her down, dying like this? And the last thing he hears before the abrupt end is his father's voice.
"Just couldn't stand to be away from dear old dad, huh? We got a party planned for ya."
. . .
Fine. I'll see you there, asshole.
Log in to comment