Tag: Pietas

Found in almost all my other scifi stories, Pietas has always been portrayed as the dark and dreaded king no one dares to cross. How did he become such a fearsome creature? Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas reveals the origin of his journey into the bleak shadows of his soul.

In the fight scene that follows, Pietas had been given two options. Surrender or die a horrible final death by fire. Defiant even in defeat, he created a third option of his own, and that is what sets the scene.

Writing a fight means writing fast movement. The dark and dreaded king is decisive. He doesn’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to win. This section shows his incredible speed. Pietas is on the ground and the soldiers who enter are hoping he’s unconscious due to lack of air. But this immortal can hold his breath ten to fifteen times longer than a human.

Fighting the Dark and Dreaded King

Crowded as the space was between his pod and the wall, two ghosts crept into it. Six spots of light showed on the other side. Eight ghosts then. That would be a much better fight. One nudged him with a foot.

Suppressing a smile, Pietas continued to play dead.

Ghost One bent down, turned him onto his back.

Pietas let his body flop.

The guy came in closer, checked for a pulse.

He opened his eyes.

The ghost’s alarm fed Pietas energy.

He yanked him down, hard, while jamming the heel of his hand up. The ghost’s head snapped back, and Pietas felt his bones crack. He shoved him aside and went after Ghost Two.

Pietas gripped his leg and tripped him. He jammed an elbow down onto the man’s neck. Bones broke. The ghost’s stab of dying fear spiked the energy from the first, and Pietas mixed it with his gift of chaos. He flung the vortex of emotions outward, broadcasting confusion and terror.

He activated his ability called zip. The pseudo speed meant he could move at a regular pace, but humans perceived him as a blur. They could not focus on him long enough to get close. To him, everyone moved in slow motion.

He flipped onto his feet, braced both hands on his pod, and kicked Three and Four square in the chest.

He pushed off the pod, and the momentum carried him straight into the arms of Five and Six. They stumbled backward, tumbling Seven and Eight onto the floor.

Pietas rolled, grabbing Seven. One quick twist of the neck, and another down. Five to go.

Six and Eight flipped themselves to their feet. Three and Four struggled to rise.

Pietas took a running leap and crushed Three’s neck. Four raised his hands to shield his face. A swift kick to the head–gone.

Pietas dropped, rolled, came up behind Eight. Broke his neck.

The burning need for air hurt, but there were two to go.

He turned, and a fist caught him in the mouth. Thrown off balance, he danced sideways. Pietas touched his lip, and frowned at the spot of blood. He met the gaze of Ghost Six, who’d punched him.

No human had ever hit him before. Pietas gave a nod.

Five and Six rushed him.

Turning into Five’s momentum, Pietas hurled him into the wall, jamming the ghost’s head down onto his spine.

He whirled back to find Six standing beside Helia’s pod, working the code on a control panel. The ghost held up a warning hand, and poised his other over a bar with flashing red letters: Immolate.

He could kill the ghost without killing his mother. Pietas darted toward him.

Six shook his head. “Don’t make me,” he mouthed. He patted a set of wristlocks at his waist, and then pointed to the floor.

For no reason would he grovel. Not even for his mother.

Pietas considered creating an illusion, and then killing him, but they had cameras on him and would know. Illusions could not be photographed. They took energy to hold, and the dark and dreaded king was running out. Fast.

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