Page 38 of Obsession

I take one look between Aris and the estate and sigh. He plans to destroy it if they don’t surrender, and maybe even if they do.

“As your advisor, I am advising against this,” I say firmly.

Aris bends to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. This close to him, it’s difficult to think. My head pounds; I tell myself it’s from the heat.

“I am willfully ignoring your advice,” he says softly.

Our eyes meet. Mine, pleading. And his, amused.

He stands up straight. “Let’s have some fun.”

Ryan grunts in acquiescence, and the setting shifts again, as we go from an overlook miles from the palace to right outside its walls. I struggle to right myself from the transportation while Aris and Ryan remain composed—though, Aris does spare me a glance.

“Nothing touches her,” he says, and Ryan immediately moves closer to me.

Before I can object or comment on any of this, the security guards begin yelling; we’ve been noticed.

Ignoring them, Aris approaches the wall with all of the swagger in the world. He takes a moment to study it—twice as tall as Ryan, with intricate carvings on the sandstone—then, he fists his hand. Immediately, the heavy stone turns to sand, cascading to the ground.

The revealed courtyard shows dozens of fountains and a long stretch of grass with flower beds ill-suited for the climate, currently being treated with sprinklers. There are statues of fierce animals as big as cars, finely detailed and unweathered by the sun, displayed between large potted plants. A gated pool is in the distance, with lawn chairs and an outdoor bar. It’s the perfect picture of exuberant wealth.

A few guards were patrolling inside this yard, and they set out toward us with battle cries. I’m briefly taken aback at how many people are willing to work security at a time like this, instead of being with their families or doing things they actually enjoy. I doubt any of them knew that Aris would target this estate, but, still. There’s an apocalypse going on. Why waste your days patrolling for some rich guy?

And now, I think sadly, they will die for some rich guy, for no reason at all.

I open my mouth to plead, again, for Aris not to do this, but it’s too late. Two swords have already appeared in Aris’ hands, which must be made of obsidian for how black they are, and he lunges to meet the guards.

Bodies fall like wheat under a scythe, tumbling into and bloodying the water of the fountains, the filters unable to cycle quickly enough. The guards from outside join the ones in the yard, determined shouts turning to screams of terror as they realize who they’re facing. Some stay to fight, but most drop their weapons and run.

Those who remain are promptly dispatched.

I stare after Aris for a moment as he twists and jumps and strikes. Is he just using swords for fun?

Shaking my head, Ryan and I wade through the gore, following Aris’ excited, animated movements. Though Ryan is stiff with joy that could rival his master’s, he doesn’t leave my side. Every time I shift, Ryan shifts with me. When a weapon appears, he angles himself in front of me.

Nothing touches her.

Despite the guns and how outnumbered we are, I feel only sorrow for the death, no fear that I might be injured. Ryan famously doesn’t like me, but he doesn’t need to. He will always, above all, follow orders from Aris.

As we approach the entrance, our attackers multiply again, becoming too numerous for Aris’ blades. Aris tosses the swords and incinerates a group of thirty men with a glance. Their screams rise through the air, horrendous and animal-like.

It’s only Aris inflicting the blows at first, until two would-be attackers jump toward me. Ryan beheads them with a single swing of his ax, then jumps in to assist Aris. Faster than a muscle-monster should move, he transverses across the yard, cutting and sweeping and maiming. And, still, he makes it back to my side before anything hits me.

The courtyard is soon silent, the ground is littered with ash, blood, and bone. And Aris is out of sight.

It’s no great mystery where he went; we simply follow the trail of bodies and grunts into the opening of the abode.

We walk through a home as grand as expected, given the yard decor. There is what I think might be an original Picasso hanging on the wall, though it’s been splashed with entrails and has a bullet hole in the middle of it. As we go further, I spot what I think is an Egyptian mummy displayed in a gilded sarcophagus. The two of us pass by quietly and reconvene with Aris in a private bed chamber.

A balding man cowers in the corner while Aris tears through what must be the last of the guards. When he kills the last one with a messy kick to the face, someone runs at me, a gun raised. Ryan meets him, breaking the man’s back over his knee like a stick.

Aris then grabs the sobbing man, forcing him to his knees.

Now, the room is entirely quiet, except for the cries.

Aris shoots Ryan and me a cursory glance before putting an arm around the man’s shoulder, whispering something I can’t hear. Whatever it is, it makes the man cry harder.

Aris tsks and releases his hold, the man promptly seizing and falling forward. Still, and dead.

---