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There on the ground, his brother Masaron lay dead...

Malakar stared blankly at his unfortunate discovery. The body was as still as a rock. A large blood spatter, from where the bullet had shot through his head, made a long spray upon the cobbled road. Malakar scanned the wound from where he stood, noticing that it had to have been a pretty powerful shot to have penetrated his helmet and made such a large hole.

"It was a sniper," he said.

"Yes," the clan member answered, "It was..."

Malakar found it hard to believe that Masaron had been killed. But, even more bizarrely, he found it odd that he felt nothing. He continued to stare, seeing only a lifeless object before him. He just couldn't relate the two. How was this Masaron? Someone so positive, so enthusiastic, so... alive...

Perhaps it was his confusion that dampened his feelings. Perhaps it hadn't hit him yet. Perhaps it never would. But this was family; surely he should feel something. To him, it was more like Masaron had gone somewhere instead. Like he wasn't really dead; just away for a while...

Malakar raised his head, still distanced from the world around him, before snapping back into reality. He turned to the clan member and said, "Bring his body back with you. I must go..."

And with that, he went his way. The priest, noticing all the unwelcome glares and hostile body-language in his direction, quickly followed behind.

"Did you know that person?" the priest asked obliviously as he caught up.

Malakar gave a moment of silence before answering, “Yes..."

"Who was he?"

"My brother..."

The priest slowed down a little; a sudden realisation of what had happened and what his captor must be going through, emotionally.

"...Sorry for your loss," he said, feeling some sympathy for Malakar, "I can... perform last rites for him, if you like?"

"That will not be necessary," Malakar answered, flatly.

The priest accepted his response, but became a little unsettled by how abruptly and indifferent this individual seemed to handle the whole thing. The man before him gave little response to something that should have otherwise troubled him deeply. He, instead, appeared to just shrug it off. A few drops of fear began to trickle down the priest’s spine. If these people cared so little for their own flesh and blood, then how awful would his own treatment with them be?

He swallowed, and took very deep breaths.

As Malakar led the way to the opening, where the new humans had landed, he came across a street that he'd passed before. It was on this particular street, that he saw yet another body he'd recognised. It was the woman he'd spared earlier, in the house; the woman with the child. She had been shot dead in the middle of the road. Clearly, she'd tried to run, before being spotted and dealt with. There was no sign of the daughter, however.

- End of Page 01 –

The priest also noticed the dead woman on the road. He paused and winced slightly as if in pain. Malakar saw his expression, and ordered him to continue on, saying, “This way, priest.”

Soon, they'd reached the end of the small town, and the beginning of the vast, open expanse of the fields ahead. It was covered with transport ships. Malakar opened his wrist-computer, input various commands and awaited a familiar sight to appear in the skies above. Swooping down, a large, black falcon of immense speed and technology hurtled down from the heavens and slowly lowered itself beside them. It hovered for a moment as it settled itself gently onto the grassy plain, with hardly any sound at all.

At that very moment, however, another ship in the far distance also took off. But it wasn’t one of theirs.

"There! A human ship!" one of the new humans yelled, "It's trying to get away!"

A massive shooting spree then erupted as all the new humans around fired at it and tried to shoot it down. Bullets and even some plasma weapons flared up in the sky above, lighting the scene with many shapes and colours. But despite how hard they tried, it was no use; it got away.

"Damn it!" one of them shouted.

"Leave it," Malakar ordered, "Let them run. They will meet us again..."

Malakar turned his gaze back to the ship before them; his own. He stepped towards it, and began making his way up the dark grey ramp. He paused at the top, turned around and said, "What are you waiting for, priest?"

The priest, frightened half to death, stood still as a stone at the fate before him. He couldn't bring himself to move. He glared at the large, dark ramp and followed it all the way up to the deep, smokey interior of the ship. Inside it glowed with a strong, blood-red hue. With that, and the enormous, beastly psychopath standing at the center, an intense flood of anxiety consumed him. It was like looking at the gate of hell itself, and there was no turning back.

"Priest!" Malakar demanded.

Suddenly, the priest could move again. He hurried forward in panic, without hesitation. His life depended on it. And soon, the great black shuttle took off, entering the grand cosmos above...

The flight to the mothership did not take long, and soon they were at the mothership's docking bay. The ship swooped in towards the docking bay fixtures and steadily got into position. They then waited for the right parts to attach themselves to the ship. Once it was held in place, a large, flexible tunnel extended from the docking bay and fixed itself to the rear of the ship. The inside of the tunnel was pressurised and airtight, allowing safe transfer for living organisms. The ramp was lowered, revealing the tunnel and corridors ahead.

A pleasant flood of light gradually filtered in as the ramp lowered down, revealing a totally different spectacle to that within the ship. It was all bright, glossy, spotlessly clean and white. The priest was most surprised. He expected far worse from the hellish, bloodthirsty people that aggressively invaded worlds, only to brutally kill and butcher their inhabitants by the millions. He had no idea they were capable of maintaining such a large, sophisticated, well-polished space station. Even the smell of the air was clean and purified. But this was no ordinary space station. This was the mothership, and he had only seen the entrance. He began to question whether this was all just a big deception, and wondered where the real horrors were.

- End of Page 02 –

Malakar made his way down the ramp and the priest reluctantly tagged along, following his new master around wherever he so desired. They coursed through the flexible tunnel and along the corridors that followed, until they reached a pair of sliding doors at the very end. The priest’s heart began to beat faster. The doors began to open automatically when the sensors detected them approach. The immense world of the new humans had now opened up before them.

The priest was overwhelmed by what he saw. He stared at the vast expanse of pristine, glossy, white civilisation before him. He could not believe his eyes. The place he bore witness to was beautiful. It was just as spotless and clean as the corridor, but humongous in scale. There were large, eloquent skyscrapers in the distance, surrounded by plenty of greenery in between. There were, in fact, many little pockets of well-maintained garden space in just about every corner. There were even fields here and there. This place was a utopian paradise.

Malakar saw the priest in awe of the marvel before him, but had no time for his fascinations, “This way, priest,” he ordered once more.

Malakar led the way and the priest, snapping back into focus, obliged. A very fast vehicle in the distance then zoomed towards them from above. The priest grew increasingly anxious as the machine got nearer and nearer, until finally it slowed to a halt beside them. It was Malakar’s personal speeder.

Malakar grabbed the aerodynamic vessel and hopped in, turning his head towards the priest. Without opening his mouth, Malakar’s order was clear. The priest reluctantly obliged and held on for his dear life when the vessel took off.

The journey was short, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant for the priest. Once the speeder had landed, his face was as white as the surroundings, and he felt absolutely awful. He was panting and clutched the seats firmly. Malakar could see that his passenger did not enjoy the ride.

“You look unwell, priest,” Malakar said.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” the priest frantically replied.

“If you throw up on my seats, priest, I shall replace the ruined leather with that from your own hide. Do you understand?”

The priest looked at Malakar with horrified disdain and said, “I understand.”

“Good,” Malakar replied, before getting out of the vehicle, “We are here...”

They arrived at Malakar’s apartment. From the outside, it looked exactly like all the others; each with the typical large, sliding doors and a walkway outside for pedestrians. Although the general surroundings in the mothership obeyed a white colour theme, these particular apartments took on a metallic grey, showing a more personal, classier vibe.

Malakar approached the entrance and the doors parted open. The doors had sensed the microchip in his suit and were now unlocked.

Malakar went through, and made himself comfortable. The priest, however, had yet another moment of reverence as he took in the new human dwelling for the first time. For a race of violent, bloodthirsty killers, these new humans certainly knew how to create a cosy, comforting vibe. He first discovered the lounge. It had a dark, brown, wooden floor with even darker leather seats. There were three of them and they all huddled around an exquisite coffee table in the centre. This, itself, sat on top of a fine, brown rug. There was also a vibrant, warm, artificial fireplace that had turned on by itself too. It was the apartment’s way of welcoming them. With all of this, including the many bookshelves lined up against the wall, it all felt incredibly homely.

- End of Page 03 –

Malakar was in the kitchen, open-plan and equally as elegant, preparing himself a beverage. Soon he would need to attend a Council meeting, so he prepared with his usual ritual. This time, however, he fancied something a little stronger than tea. An intense, but familiar aroma then filled the room. Coffee. At last, the cosy scene was complete.

Feeling more at ease, and with the opportunity to converse more privately with his captor, the priest felt now was a good time to speak. He had so many questions. And, more importantly, he still had no idea why Malakar actually kept him alive.

"So, umm… I wanted to ask you something,” the priest nervously stated.

Malakar remained silent.

The priest saw his response, but asked anyway.

“Why did you spare me... in the end?" he asked.

Malakar paused, slowly raised his head and, with a threatening tone, asked, “You’d rather I didn’t?”

The priest stepped back, his hands flying up, saying, “No, no, I’m very grateful that you did,” a little sweat starting to form on his head, “I just wondered what it was exactly that made you do it, that’s all.”

Malakar returned his focus to making his coffee, saying, "Perhaps, because you are the first who prayed instead of fighting..."

"So, because of my faith, then?"

"...Perhaps..."

The priest looked down in thought, his hand on his chest where his crucifix lay underneath, and quietly said, "Then God really did answer my prayers…”

Malakar continued swirling his coffee and said, "Your God is nothing but old lies and fiction, priest..."

"And yet, here I am; still breathing..."

"You are alive, priest, because I spared you. Nothing more..."

"But you didn't spare the others. Surely that is a sign?"

"A sign of what?"

"A sign that the Father above is watching over me. A sign that the Almighty spared me for a reason. And perhaps it was because of my faith; because I believed in him until the very end…”

"You have not been saved, priest. You are a prisoner now. Like a slave, you are a trophy that I have seized. You are, however, the only religious one I have ever taken."

"I don't believe that. Something stopped you from killing me. Perhaps... admiration of my faith."

- End of Page 04 –

Malakar started to feel a touch of irritation, "Do not flatter yourself, priest. You have nothing that could impress me..."

The priest, however, remained unconvinced.

"Maybe I was curious and wanted to learn more," Malakar continued, "But you are not special, priest; not in any way."

The priest looked down in contemplation, believing Malakar this time.

"What do I call you?" the priest asked, looking back up, unsure if he should use Malakar's real name or not; the name he'd heard used in the church.

"To you, it is master..."

The priest frowned in disappointment and asked, "Well, can I at least see your face?"

Malakar stopped what he was doing, and slowly turned his head towards the priest.

"...You want to see my face?" Malakar said in a sinister tone, "Very well, then. Here, I shall show you..."

Malakar then placed his hands firmly upon the sides of his helmet and gradually pulled it off. Once all the way off his head, it was delicately lowered onto the black marble worktop in front of him. Then, in a flash, Malakar aggressively charged towards the priest.

The priest tensed anxiously when he saw him approach and stepped back saying, "I'm sorry! Please don't! I didn't mean to-"

But before the priest could finish, Malakar picked him up by the shirt, pulled him unpleasantly close to his heavily scarred face, and said, “This is my face, priest. Remember it, for it is the face of your master... and may well be the last face you ever see..."

After catching a glimpse of Malakar's battle-marked image and intent stare from those grey, machine-like eyes, the priest turned away in horror and slammed his eyelids shut.

"I'm sorry!” the priest whimpered, “Please put me down!"

After squinting in irritation, Malakar put down his weak and trembling new pet. He then grabbed his small, but strong, cup of coffee and gulped it down. He slammed the glass back on the surface with a ringing thud when he finished it, before turning around to make his way to the exit. But just before he left, he said, "You are lucky you are my prisoner, human; I doubt my sister would be so generous..."

Generous? The priest was shocked at the use of such a word. How was making him a prisoner the slightest bit generous? He grew highly worried of what was to come in this place. His life had been fairly pleasant up until now; up until the invasion of Hope by these, what he considered, demons...

That had to be it...

Many people had abandoned their faith. Because of the technological advancements of society, God ceased to exist to them. But he was one of the few people who still believed. This, he thought, had to be the reason he was saved in that church. It was because he was the only one around, amongst his people, who still had a good heart and was true of faith. The others had all been punished for their lack of it. These demons who invaded them were sent directly by God as punishment for their sins; or so he believed. And now, he had actually seen one of them up close; an image that haunted him dearly...

- End of Page 05 –

"Wait! Where are you going?" he called, just before Malakar left.

"Out. Where do you think I'm going?" Malakar answered without stopping.

"But where? Can't I come with you?"

Malakar finally stopped and turned around, "Where I am going, priest, you will not be welcome. And do not venture outside these walls, either. There are many in this place who would see you torn apart before them. So I would not recommend it. There is food and water in the kitchen. But if you eat it all, I will tear you open myself, and get it all back..."

As soon as Malakar finished speaking, his automatic doors closed, leaving the priest with a very clear and heavy wake up call. He really wasn't going to enjoy this place...

Malakar hopped back into his speeder, and took off to the Council Chamber. He actually arrived early, for once. He was not in the mood for discussion with his prisoner, and most definitely not in the mood to arrange a funeral for his now deceased brother. He had told Masaron not to go. He knew it was a bad idea. And now, he'd lost a potential successor to his clan. He also lost one of the best personal assistants he'd ever had. Masaron was very good at that. He always kept Malakar up to date. He was also very tech savvy, which had gained him a position amongst the Council's intelligence team. Masaron hadn’t just kept Malakar up to date with his personal tasks, he’d also kept him in the know of the various secret happenings that the new humans were involved in. He had been a very useful asset to Malakar. He’d lost a very valuable individual indeed. Nonetheless, he focussed on the task at hand, entered the Council Chamber and got on with it.

In a battle, such as the one Malakar had just fought in, there were far too many new humans taking part for them to all be debriefed individually. So, in this situation, it was the commanders in charge of the battle, or the clan leaders, who were held accountable. Their own personal performance, however, was not examined like before from their helmet cameras. The battle of Hope had been crystal clear from space, and the Council had watched it all unfold from orbit.

Malakar was joined at the center of the chamber with the other four clan leaders that took part. Tiberius was on the far left side and Malakar the far right. The meeting was short and they were all given time off Council duty to prepare their dead. Malakar left feeling disappointed. He was not disappointed with anyone in the Council; just with himself. It was his own lack of vigilance that allowed Masaron to fight. He should have been firmer. So what if Masaron had been upset? At least he would still be alive...

Malakar felt that his father would be ashamed of him. It was a feeling that shadowed him for the rest of the day, and left him feeling rather bitter. He had to arrange his brother's funeral, along with the others in his clan who'd died. He needed to make a few calls, but when he opened his wrist-computer, he realised he'd never see his brother's face on there again. He thought for a while before making his calls, and headed back to his apartment when he'd finished.

The priest was sitting patiently on a bar stall at the kitchen worktop when Malakar returned.

"It is time to go, priest," he said as soon as he entered, "we're leaving."

"Leaving? What? But we've only just got here?"

"Now!" Malakar ordered.

"Agh!” the priest quailed, before shooting to his feet.

- End of Page 06 –

Malakar led the way back to his ship, and when they arrived at the docking bay, there were other clan members waiting for them. Malakar headed up the ramp, followed by the priest, and behind them four clan members carried the covered body of Masaron onboard. His body was on a rectangular board, and the carriers placed the board on a table in the ship's storage bay. After that, the clan members disembarked.

"Are they not coming with us?" the priest asked.

"No. Only my brother. I will be delivering him personally…”

"Personally to where?"

"To my home planet; where his body belongs..."

After seeing them off, Malakar entered the cockpit and began preparations for takeoff. He sat comfortably in the pilot's chair whilst the priest stood behind him and watched him control the ship. The boarding tunnel detached and the large docking fixtures also receded from the ship’s hull. Finally, after everything was clear, the mighty propulsion engines at the ship's rear fired up and blasted it out of the mothership’s docking bay. Like a bolt of lightning, it flashed across the vacuum of space until it reached a large, open clearing, far from the mothership. There, Malakar punched in a few buttons and a small holographic planet appeared with the letters M-A-D-E-R written underneath it.

"How do you pronounce that?" the priest asked curiously.

"It rhymes with invader..." Malakar answered.

"...How appropriate..."

Finally, Malakar hit one last button, and the ship was immediately flung into the intense realm of a wormhole. It was a journey that sucked them in and spat them back out into a system never seen before by the priest. There, ahead of them, a large and healthy-looking planet dominated their view from the cockpit. It glowed with lush greens and oceanic blues. It was a masterpiece...

"It's beautiful," the priest said as the colourful exoplanet illuminated their dark dwelling.

"Of course it is," Malakar answered with pride, "it is my homeworld..."

The lush green surface gradually got nearer and nearer, until finally the ship touched down upon a large landing pad.

"We are here," Malakar announced.

He immediately got up and headed to the back of the ship. The priest followed him, and watched as the ramp slowly dropped down. As it lowered, bright light flooded in and lit up the ship's dark, red, smokey interior. The light almost hurt the priest's eyes. He held out his hand to shield his face, but soon his eyes adjusted and he almost couldn't believe what he saw.

There before him, a bright, sunny landscape with vibrant green grasses, earthy mounds, distant, mountainous peaks and a large, refreshing lake, were altogether one of the most welcoming sights he'd ever seen. He was so surprised by what he saw, in fact, that he didn't even notice the colossal palace ahead, nor the giant bridge that led to it. He didn't even realise that there was a person waiting for them by the ramp, until he looked down.

Malakar stepped down, and he was greeted by the waiting clan member.

- End of Page 07 –

"Welcome home, Councillor Malakar," the clan member said, "It is good to see you."

Malakar greeted the clan member in response, and they had a short, brief conversation about various recent events. The priest, meanwhile, made his way down and began to wander around outside. After reaching the left edge of the landing platform, he took in a big, deep breath of fresh air and gazed at the open fields ahead. He marvelled at the vast, magnificent expanse that occupied his vision. But, in many ways, it also utterly bewildered him. How could the new humans live in such a tranquil setting? These people were supposed to be raging, violent monsters; completely incapable of sitting still without the urge to kill something. And yet, here was a scene worthy of heaven itself...

Even the cows were happy...

He then heard the clan member say, "I'll tell the others right away," before departing.

The priest turned around and watched as the clan member got into the speeder parked on the far right of the landing pad. Just like on the mothership, the speeder hovered upwards, before shooting off to its destination.

Malakar then approached him and said, "This way, priest..." before leading the way over the large, sturdy-looking bridge ahead.

The sand-coloured surface of the stone shone bright in the glaring rays of the sun. Soon they reached the center of the bridge and the priest was once more overcome by the sheer beauty of the landscape. To the right, an enormous lake shimmered in the sunlight and brought yet more beams of joy. He saw birds flying in the distance and bathing in the lake, singing as they did so. He even saw ducks quacking away; all of them content and thriving in the blissful setting. It was truly serene.

As they continued on, his gaze finally met that of the almighty palace that stood firmly in place. It was a dark, metallic grey, with many smooth and rounded spires on top. It had a very aerodynamic look to it and the sun clearly gave this place a shimmering blessing too. The priest was in awe of its sheer size and presence.

"Is... is that yours?" the priest asked in almost disbelief as they approached the enormous fortress.

"It is..."

The priest returned his gaze to the almighty dwelling and slowly started to realise the true extent of Malakar's influence and power. Not only was he greeted upon arrival by a saluting clan member, but he also owned this colossal, alien-looking castle surrounded by miles and miles of bewitching, fertile scenery. This man was practically a king.

After their long trek across the bridge, they were soon at the large, grand entrance. The doors opened as the pair approached, exposing an exquisite interior of vibrant colours and classy decor. They went on through, following the huge, red carpet that lined the grand hallway right up to the very end. There, it met a brass statue of a warrior holding a spear. The statue was also very smooth and aerodynamic, like something one would see in a post-modern art exhibition.

The priest still couldn't believe it all. The new humans had class too? It looked so civilised and had such an impressive interior. It was not what he expected at all. Clearly these new humans were full of surprises. Perhaps it was possible, even, that he was wrong about them...

- End of Page 08 –

Malakar lead them up to the statue, where the red carpet ended with a T-junction and split into two paths.

"Where to now?" the priest asked.

"Now, priest, we part ways. I am going to change into something more comfortable, and arrange a few things. But I will speak to you again, later. Berylia, here, will lead you to your living quarters," Malakar explained as he gestured to the new human girl standing right behind the priest.

The priest didn't even hear her approach, and he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw her. The large, armoured, new human girl towered over him, and looked more than capable of dealing with any trouble.

"See you soon," Malakar said abruptly, before heading off in the other direction.

"Wait," the priest called, anxiously, "Where are you going?"

"I just told you; away. I have things to do," he answered as he strolled down the hallway, "But do not worry, priest; she has orders not to kill you. So you are safe, for now..."

The priest gulped.

"Come on, human," Berylia said in a firm voice, and guided the priest with a strong hand.

The priest obliged.

He was taken through many halls and stairways, all with the same exquisite features and expensive-looking ornaments. Finally, they reached the bedroom. This, too, was decorated well and full of luxurious, fine things. The bed was in the center of the room against the wall, and it even had silky, red bed-curtains. The priest couldn't believe his luck. For a prisoner, he was certainly being well-accommodated. It was like being in an expensive hotel.

"Do prisoners always get treated this well?" he asked Berylia.

"Only if they are prisoners of our clan," she answered.

“Don’t the others?” he asked.

“No…” she said.

"Why not?"

"The other clans do not possess as rich a history as ours; our clan is well-known and carries with it much influence. We must therefore abide by higher standards and provide improved levels of etiquette. As a result, our clan also happens to treat its human slaves better than most."

“I see,” the priest said, realising his luck, “Surely, though, there are some other clans that do the same?”

"Some, yes. But not many. It is mainly because of the old days; when Malakar's father used to rule the clan. Even before that, our clan leaders were more lenient than most, but he was an exception. He was good-natured and noble at heart, but also very clever. By treating his slaves well, they worked harder for him and were more motivated. They were also less likely to die from being overworked, as in other clans. Slaves are still a resource, even if we want them dead. It costs us money and time if they die…”

The priest looked down in thought, realising a more cold-blooded reason for their good manners.

- End of Page 09 –

“But remember," she continued, "you are not his slave, priest. You are his prisoner. He does not need to offer you the same treatment…”

“What’s the difference?” the priest asked, puzzled.

“The difference is that our slaves provide us with income and are useful to us, long-term.”

“Long-term?” the priest asked, his breaths slowly becoming heavy.

“Yes,” she answered, “we keep our slaves…”

The priest’s heart began to pound.

“And your prisoners?” he gulped, his face now much whiter, “What happens to them?”

“It depends on how useful they are.”

“Useful?”

“Yes. Useful.”

“But I’m useful!” he insisted, “I’m very useful!”

“We shall see, human…”

“Wait, why can’t I be a slave? I don’t want to be a prisoner!”

“Our kind are no longer taking slaves; we are not allowed to, anymore..."

"Why not?" he asked with a nervous trickle of sweat on his forehead.

"It is to speed up your extinction..." she answered flatly.

His eyes slowly grew wider as a horror grew within him; a horror that showed him how heartless these people really were.

"Oh..." he answered with delay, shocked and almost devoid of emotion.

He was now firmly placed back into reality, realising the truth and direness of the situation. He wasn’t safe here, whatsoever. All the scenery, all the splendor he witnessed; it was just an evil illusion to lure him into a false sense of comfort.

He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to tame the immense anxiety that began to build up inside him. Berylia saw him seated there and simply assumed he was settling in a little more.

"I will be outside if you need me, human,” she said to him, before leaving the room.

He watched her leave, knowing she was now guarding his exit outside. Now he really was a prisoner...

His mind immediately began to race with highly unpleasant thoughts, as unwelcome as they were. He needed to get out of this place. He needed to escape. He was going to die here if he didn’t. There must be a way. There must be a way out.

- End of Page 10 –

As time went by with troubling visions pouring in, his immediate environment soon came back into focus. There, in front of him, where the light flooded into the room; a balcony. Could this be it? Could this be his escape? He got straight up and hurried to the balcony doors. They were unlocked. He couldn’t exit them fast enough.

The balcony was a half-moon shape, but this was a detail the priest hardly noticed as he scanned the area for a means of escape. He searched and searched, but there was nothing to aid his departure. There was no way out. Unless…

He slowly stepped towards the edge of the balcony and stopped when he reached the very tip. He leaned over to see the distance below. The very thought of it made him queasy. He closed his eyes and stepped back, shuddering at the thought. He couldn’t do it. He may have been religious, but he was no zealot. That was a jump even his God could not give him the courage for. No, he would have to leave himself to their mercy instead. But even that thought gave him nightmares. Surely, if they killed him, it would be quick and painless. Surely, they wouldn’t torture him to death. Surely…

What reason would they have?

As he began to dwell on it more, he wondered if the steep fall really was so bad. At least that would kill him instantly...

Just then, Berylia entered the room and saw him at the balcony.

“Needed some fresh air, human?” she remarked, “No matter. Come. Malakar is ready to see you now.”

Just like that, his opportunity had disappeared. Now he really would be at their mercy. He grabbed his crucifix and prayed, before Berylia escorted him out.

After being taken down a hallway on the same floor, he soon saw his captor ahead. Malakar was standing on a balcony platform overlooking the mountains and vast expanse of fields ahead. As the priest approached from behind, he noticed Malakar was wearing a charcoal coloured tunic, with dark trousers to match. He was also wearing well-polished boots. Despite how black they were, they glistened brightly in the sun.

"Greetings, priest..." Malakar welcomed.

The priest was too afraid to answer. His heart still pounded with fear. His face was pale and ghost-like. Malakar turned around to see his unusually quiet guest.

“Is something wrong, priest?”

“No, no,” he answered instantly, “nothing at all.’

‘Are you ok?” the priest then asked, changing subject to avoid suspicion.

Malakar turned back to his view and said, “Not my best, no…”

The priest, despite his jitteriness, picked up on Malakar's contemplative mood. Malakar almost looked worried, in fact. But the priest couldn’t imagine Malakar being anywhere near as worried as he was.

"Oh, what's wrong?" the priest asked, nervously looking around, "You look somewhat worried.”

- End of Page 11 –

"...I am," Malakar answered.

"What is it that’s worrying you,” the priest said with a little more concern, “if you don't mind me asking?"

"What worries me, priest, is this constant, undying question that lingers in my mind. One that I fear to answer..."

"I can't imagine anything giving you fear,” he responded as his eyes continued to dart around, “What question could possibly trouble you so?"

"The question of ‘what happens when there are no more humans left?’"

"Well, that sounds obvious. From your perspective, I imagine you'd all celebrate, surely?”

"We are not the celebrating kind..."

"No, I suppose not..."

"I believe that we will... I know, even, that we will fight amongst ourselves..."

"That is... very pessimistic..." he answered, still trying to hide the fear in his voice.

"But it is true, priest. My people are violent conquerors, and we bask in the drug-like haze of conflict... We know nothing else..."

"But, surely you must have some intellectuals amongst your people too, otherwise how would you have managed to build the wonders that I witnessed earlier?”

“Just because one is an intellectual does not mean they lack the propensity for violence.”

“But what about scientists and other educated professionals? I can’t imagine them ever resorting to savagery. If they did, they’d never get anything done. Then, you wouldn't have been able to achieve such advanced, sophisticated technology. You wouldn't have been able to build anything at all. Surely they were able to function well enough without violence and conflict?"

Malakar turned his head and stared deep into the priest’s eye, "You don't know our scientists..."

The priest stared back at Malakar, feeling his master’s eyes burn into him. It made him very uncomfortable, especially since he was trying to hide his look of anguish. He had to say something quick.

"Well,” the priest continued, “how in the world did they manage it, then? I would have thought that being a scientist required patience and control."

It worked. Malakar turned his head back to the fields ahead as he spoke.

"It is... a balanced lifestyle... Even if not fully involved in warfare, they are still trained warriors; they still enjoy the hunt and crave conquest. That is also, in fact, exactly why they become scientists. It is not so much to cure our diseases and treat our wounded, but to create weapons that can eliminate our enemies. They want to make weapons that they can purge your kind with. They are willing to learn, but only to apply the knowledge to destructive ends..."

The priest looked down in heavy thought. He now had a very understandable reason for why these people were the way they were. Their entire existence was, quite frankly, unsustainable. They lived for the kill, and they would probably kill each other to the very last one, if given the choice.

- End of Page 12 –

“I see…” the priest answered with a deeply concerned frown, realising that these people really were monsters.

The priest couldn’t help but look to his surroundings for a way out again. These people were dangerous. His master alone was dangerous enough. In fact, his master was alone. Right there, it was just the two of them. Berylia had gone back inside. There was even an entire field ahead to run into. Surely he could run. But he was still too high up...

"But,” Malakar continued, “something in me... something inside, is telling me that I can find a way to save them... to save them from themselves..."

Just then, the priest realised what he was saying, "That… is why you saved me…” he said looking at Malakar this time, “You want them to embrace faith... and to believe in peace.”

"Perhaps. Perhaps I did, to a certain extent, believe that I could learn something from you, priest; something that could aid me in my cause. But faith alone, I feel, will not do. We certainly don't need another false God to believe in, just to preach lies and control us all, like in the past. Those days of humanity are over. And my people wouldn't believe in such nonsense, anyway. But your tranquility that I witnessed, there in that chapel; it was unusual…”

The priest’s mind flooded with possibilities. This could be his saving grace. This could keep him alive. Or, at least, it could keep him alive long enough to find a way out of here. Useful; that’s what Berylia said. He had to be useful to them. But it also started to dawn on him that Malakar could be saved. Malakar seemed sincere in his search for something else, something that had a resounding resemblance to religion. He then started to wonder if all Malakar’s people could be saved. Perhaps, even, this was God himself coming through to them, trying to return them to the flock. The priest always knew that God worked in mysterious ways. But, if so, if this really was the answer, he would be doing more than just preventing the violent destruction that these people caused; he would also be saving his own people from total annihilation.

“I could help you with that,” the priest offered.

“I don’t know, priest,” Malakar denounced, “One does not simply convert to a faith, let alone one that has a history of indoctrination and lies.”

“The faith has changed considerably since then. There are no lies nor any indoctrination.”

“I highly doubt that… But we shall see, priest.”

Already, the priest started to lose hope with his idea. This would be far harder than he realised. Malakar said it himself; his people would never believe in such a thing. He sympathised for Malakar, in a way, and understood the situation he was in. But he also wondered if these people really were worth saving. They seemed doomed to their carnal nature and, as both he and Malakar believed, they probably would fight each other to the very end, ultimately destroying themselves...

"But, anyway," Malakar continued, "That is not why I called you here, priest. Tonight, it is my brother's funeral, and that of my other fallen brethren. You will be joining me and will watch with the others as I light the pyre. Therefore, I need you ready later in the evening. You will be given special clothes to wear as a sign of respect.”

“Others?” the priest asked with a nervous trickle.

- End of Page 13 –

“Yes. Many of my clan members will be there tonight to honour the fallen; those who died in the last battle. My slaves will also be attending.”

The priest looked down again, wondering what to expect. But, then, a deeply frightening question popped into his head.

"Will your sister be there?" he slowly asked.

"She should be," Malakar replied, to the priest’s discomfort, "But she is so irritating and unpredictable that I cannot possibly guarantee it. Sometimes she says she will do one thing, but does something completely different. Recently, before the last battle, she told an important Councillor in a Council meeting that she would improve on her behaviour. Then, right after that, she very nearly attacked one. Punishment for that, is not small..."

"She sounds dangerous," the priest said, trembling at the thought of being anywhere near her again.

"She is... But mostly to me. Others may die by her hand, but it is my reputation that gets tarnished by it."

The priest thought about Malakar’s words. Clearly Mersuvia wasn't just a danger to him, but to most people she encountered. This knowledge, however, didn't exactly make him feel safer.

The thought of suicide crossed his mind once again and he started to peer at the balcony edge once more. Anything but Mersuvia. She really would torture him to death. She said it herself…

Just then, Malakar turned his head towards the priest. He saw on his face a look of sheer horror and desolation; the kind of look that some of his victims had given in the past before attempting to kill themselves. He then followed the priest’s fixed gaze towards the edge of the balcony, and the fatal drop below…

“Priest,” Malakar called politely, causing the priest to turn back and face him, “Come this way. I have something to show you…”

Malakar then firmly guided the priest away from the edge and back towards the fortress. Once inside, Malakar led from the front and Berylia guarded the priest’s rear. He was now sandwiched between the two, preventing any obvious escape, and was escorted to a part of the palace grounds that he had never seen before.

Just outside of the palace, around the back, there was an open sanded area. This area had several vehicles lined up near the main building for traversing the large expanse of the palace estate. But, just before the vehicles, there were two large cages that had been transported and dumped into position. One of them contained a half-naked man, but the other one contained something far more extraordinary.

“What is that?” the priest asked nervously as he stared at the strange, black, alien-looking creature hissing behind the thick bars.

“That, priest, is a Sangelin…” Malakar answered with sinister reverence.

- End of Page 14 –

"What is a Sangelin?" the priest quivered, looking directly at the nightmarish creature.

"It is a creature my ancestors created long ago; a genetic combination of many animals, moulded into one for a specific purpose…”

"And what purpose is that?" the priest questioned, starting to wonder if he really wanted to know the answer.

"To unleash carnage, of course..." Malakar replied with satisfaction.

Slightly unnerved, the priest gulped and said, "So, it is a war-beast?"

"Less of a beast, more of a hound; a reptilian hound."

"A reptilian hound?" the priest’s eyes filled with distress, fearful of what kind of freak monstrosity he was looking at.

"Yes; a reptilian hound. I know that there is wolf in there, but also various species of lizard; including crocodile. It is able to regenerate remarkably well, and can sense the heat of its prey too. It can also hide itself very well, as there is chameleon in there as well. But its primary use was always as a hunting hound. It has a body much like a dane, but with a longer neck and a snake-shaped head bearing powerful alligator jaws. It also has a forked tongue, as expected, and scaly, black skin. Charcoal even. It can taste its prey in the air. And, as you can see, they are also quite big. It may surprise you, then, to know that they are actually pack hunters."

The priest stared in horror at the grotesque abomination in front of him. He could only imagine what kind of hellish onslaught this thing could unleash. And he dared not even think about a pack of them...

"Do your people play God so readily," the priest asked with disdain.

"In this world, priest, we are the Gods…”

The priest then turned to face his captor. He now realised the level of hubris in him and of his people. They were playing with life like it was a toy, creating hellish animals that were out of place in this Universe. They were not God’s creations at all. They were the work of the devil...

“Look in the distance, priest,” Malakar continued, “Even the cows you see have been engineered to improve their function. Those ones in particular have been engineered to produce little to no methane whatsoever in their stomachs; a common problem with cows in the olden days. So our farm animals do not produce the harmful greenhouses gases that yours do. Yet, they taste just as delicious as before..." Malakar licked his lips.

“It is still wrong,” the priest added.

“Ha. Right. Wrong. It does not matter, priest. What matters is reality and who is in control of it. And right now, I am in control of your reality…”

The priest looked down in discomfort. Everything Malakar said was true. He could not resist anything his captor imposed on him.

“Anyway,” Malakar continued, “The cows are not the reason I brought you here, priest. I am showing you the Sangelin for a reason. In the other cage, you will find one of my slaves. He tried to escape. He thought that he could relieve himself of my possession, at will. He was wrong…”

- End of Page 15 –

“So he is in a cage as punishment,” the priest said, hoping that was all the caged man would suffer.

“For now, yes,” Malakar answered, to the priest’s relief, “But you will now bear witness to his main punishment.”

The priest looked up at Malakar, intently worried of what this slave master would do to his slave.

“Over there, in those fields,” Malakar continued, “is where he tried to flee. He ran into the wilderness, thinking I would not find him. I treat my slaves very well, priest. But sometimes I wonder if this is the incorrect thing to do. It breeds complacency amongst them and gives them ideas. He will now be reminded of what world he lives in, who owns him and what dangers exist. And so will you…”

The priest snapped his head to Malakar, worried of what he would now do to the poor man in the cage, and possibly to him.

Malakar simply typed a few commands into his wrist-computer and before long, the man’s cage door opened up.

“Run slave,” Malakar said to him, “Run while you still have a head start…”

The caged man then sprung up from the ground and shot out of the cage with desperation. He was sweating heavily, probably from anxiety, and had a very light, underfed frame. He was quick on his feet.

Before long, however, Malakar entered yet more commands into his wrist-computer, and the cage of the dreaded Sangelin began to open up…

“Oh no,” the priest said, horrified at what was about to happen, “please don’t…”

But it was no use. The cage door continued to open up, and soon a hungry Sangelin caught sight and scent of a running snack.

“Oh,” Malakar continued, “and did I mention they are attracted to fleeing animals?”

The Sangelin immediately rushed out upon the sand and hurriedly pursued its prey in the field. Its agile frame resembled a running hound, tracking its food with immense speed and precision. It homed in on its moving target like a hawk.

The man had been running hard and fast, assumedly aware of his fate. His heavy sweating did not help his escape either, as each droplet gave the Sangelin more reassurance of its direction. But the man wasn’t exactly that far away. The Sangelin was so fast that it covered the man’s distance in but a few seconds before it pounced on him from behind.

The creature bellowed and hissed as it ripped and tore pieces of the man’s back out. Flesh flew in all directions and covered all things in a rich red paint.

The priest couldn’t watch. He had never seen such savagery right in front of him before and he felt queasy beyond belief. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, to Malakar’s irritation.

“I hope you are watching, priest,” Malakar commented, “I would hate to have to show you all over again with another slave…”

- End of Page 16 –

The priest heard him well and clear, even if he could not believe what he heard. This monster, the one standing beside him, was willing to sacrifice another human life, just to show him a violent display that he would not forget. For the sake of another human life, the priest opened his eyes again and watched the horrifying display ahead.

The Sangelin dug deep into the man’s torso, exposing his shoulder blade, ribs and even his lungs. But it wasn’t just the visual display that made the priest feel so sick, it was also the blood-chilling screams. He had never heard another human being, let alone another man, scream so intensely. He wished the creature would just hurry up and finish the poor man off. He was now starting to feel faint.

After flaying flesh and bone in all directions, the loud, hissing creature began to bite directly into the crunchy torso. Bones cracked and snapped as the Sangelin’s mighty jaws crushed straight through them. And soon, to the priest’s relief, the man’s screaming stopped…

The priest gave a heavy sigh, whilst holding his crucifix, and looked to the ground feeling drained and devoid of energy.

“You know, priest. I once had a slave who ran inside my palace and jumped from a balcony, wishing to end his life…”

The priest opened his eyes and looked up towards Malakar, now becoming frightfully aware that Malakar was on to him.

“He survived the fall,” Malakar said.

The priest then looked away in shock. Disturbed of what he was hearing.

“He did not survive the punishment,” Malakar confirmed.

The priest’s adrenaline now coursed through him like a powerful drug. Not only did his captor know what he was up to, but his idea had a possible flaw; he may actually survive the fall, after all. From what he witnessed today, escape by running was definitely not an option. But now his other plan was also void. He imagined being chased by that Sangelin creature, but with an added broken leg to slow him down even more. He just couldn’t think of it. He was horrified enough. This whole day had just been one huge spate of bad luck, disaster, misfortune and misery. But the worst thing of all was that terrifying feeling of dread that the worst was still to come…

“Go now, priest,” Malakar said, “Go back to your dwelling. Wear what is required of you and make sure that you are ready when called. You would not want to be the Sangelin’s next meal now, would you?”

Berylia placed her heavy hand on the unnerved priest, making him jump, and he was forced back inside to his living quarters. Anxious, queasy and light-headed, he simply obliged without any thought at all.

And although he had the feeling that the worst was still to come, he could not have even imagined the hell that awaited him…

- End of Page 17 –

- End of Chapter 4 -

Description
There on the ground, his brother Masaron lay dead...

Malakar stared blankly at his unfortunate discovery. The body was as still as a rock. A large blood spatter, from where the bullet had shot through his head, made a long spray upon the cobbled road. Malakar scanned the wound from where he stood, noticing that it had to have been a pretty powerful shot to have penetrated his helmet and made such a large hole.

"It was a sniper," he said.

"Yes," the clan member answered, "It was..."

Malakar found it hard to believe that Masaron had been killed. But, even more bizarrely, he found it odd that he felt nothing. He continued to stare, seeing only a lifeless object before him. He just couldn't relate the two. How was this Masaron? Someone so positive, so enthusiastic, so... alive...

Perhaps it was his confusion that dampened his feelings. Perhaps it hadn't hit him yet. Perhaps it never would. But this was family; surely he should feel something. To him, it was more like Masaron had gone somewhere instead. Like he wasn't really dead; just away for a while...

Malakar raised his head, still distanced from the world around him, before snapping back into reality. He turned to the clan member and said, "Bring his body back with you. I must go..."

And with that, he went his way. The priest, noticing all the unwelcome glares and hostile body-language in his direction, quickly followed behind.

"Did you know that person?" the priest asked obliviously as he caught up.

Malakar gave a moment of silence before answering, “Yes..."

"Who was he?"

"My brother..."

The priest slowed down a little; a sudden realisation of what had happened and what his captor must be going through, emotionally.

"...Sorry for your loss," he said, feeling some sympathy for Malakar, "I can... perform last rites for him, if you like?"

"That will not be necessary," Malakar answered, flatly.

The priest accepted his response, but became a little unsettled by how abruptly and indifferent this individual seemed to handle the whole thing. The man before him gave little response to something that should have otherwise troubled him deeply. He, instead, appeared to just shrug it off. A few drops of fear began to trickle down the priest’s spine. If these people cared so little for their own flesh and blood, then how awful would his own treatment with them be?

He swallowed, and took very deep breaths.

As Malakar led the way to the opening, where the new humans had landed, he came across a street that he'd passed before. It was on this particular street, that he saw yet another body he'd recognised. It was the woman he'd spared earlier, in the house; the woman with the child. She had been shot dead in the middle of the road. Clearly, she'd tried to run, before being spotted and dealt with. There was no sign of the daughter, however.

- End of Page 01 –

The priest also noticed the dead woman on the road. He paused and winced slightly as if in pain. Malakar saw his expression, and ordered him to continue on, saying, “This way, priest.”

Soon, they'd reached the end of the small town, and the beginning of the vast, open expanse of the fields ahead. It was covered with transport ships. Malakar opened his wrist-computer, input various commands and awaited a familiar sight to appear in the skies above. Swooping down, a large, black falcon of immense speed and technology hurtled down from the heavens and slowly lowered itself beside them. It hovered for a moment as it settled itself gently onto the grassy plain, with hardly any sound at all.

At that very moment, however, another ship in the far distance also took off. But it wasn’t one of theirs.

"There! A human ship!" one of the new humans yelled, "It's trying to get away!"

A massive shooting spree then erupted as all the new humans around fired at it and tried to shoot it down. Bullets and even some plasma weapons flared up in the sky above, lighting the scene with many shapes and colours. But despite how hard they tried, it was no use; it got away.

"Damn it!" one of them shouted.

"Leave it," Malakar ordered, "Let them run. They will meet us again..."

Malakar turned his gaze back to the ship before them; his own. He stepped towards it, and began making his way up the dark grey ramp. He paused at the top, turned around and said, "What are you waiting for, priest?"

The priest, frightened half to death, stood still as a stone at the fate before him. He couldn't bring himself to move. He glared at the large, dark ramp and followed it all the way up to the deep, smokey interior of the ship. Inside it glowed with a strong, blood-red hue. With that, and the enormous, beastly psychopath standing at the center, an intense flood of anxiety consumed him. It was like looking at the gate of hell itself, and there was no turning back.

"Priest!" Malakar demanded.

Suddenly, the priest could move again. He hurried forward in panic, without hesitation. His life depended on it. And soon, the great black shuttle took off, entering the grand cosmos above...

The flight to the mothership did not take long, and soon they were at the mothership's docking bay. The ship swooped in towards the docking bay fixtures and steadily got into position. They then waited for the right parts to attach themselves to the ship. Once it was held in place, a large, flexible tunnel extended from the docking bay and fixed itself to the rear of the ship. The inside of the tunnel was pressurised and airtight, allowing safe transfer for living organisms. The ramp was lowered, revealing the tunnel and corridors ahead.

A pleasant flood of light gradually filtered in as the ramp lowered down, revealing a totally different spectacle to that within the ship. It was all bright, glossy, spotlessly clean and white. The priest was most surprised. He expected far worse from the hellish, bloodthirsty people that aggressively invaded worlds, only to brutally kill and butcher their inhabitants by the millions. He had no idea they were capable of maintaining such a large, sophisticated, well-polished space station. Even the smell of the air was clean and purified. But this was no ordinary space station. This was the mothership, and he had only seen the entrance. He began to question whether this was all just a big deception, and wondered where the real horrors were.

- End of Page 02 –

Malakar made his way down the ramp and the priest reluctantly tagged along, following his new master around wherever he so desired. They coursed through the flexible tunnel and along the corridors that followed, until they reached a pair of sliding doors at the very end. The priest’s heart began to beat faster. The doors began to open automatically when the sensors detected them approach. The immense world of the new humans had now opened up before them.

The priest was overwhelmed by what he saw. He stared at the vast expanse of pristine, glossy, white civilisation before him. He could not believe his eyes. The place he bore witness to was beautiful. It was just as spotless and clean as the corridor, but humongous in scale. There were large, eloquent skyscrapers in the distance, surrounded by plenty of greenery in between. There were, in fact, many little pockets of well-maintained garden space in just about every corner. There were even fields here and there. This place was a utopian paradise.

Malakar saw the priest in awe of the marvel before him, but had no time for his fascinations, “This way, priest,” he ordered once more.

Malakar led the way and the priest, snapping back into focus, obliged. A very fast vehicle in the distance then zoomed towards them from above. The priest grew increasingly anxious as the machine got nearer and nearer, until finally it slowed to a halt beside them. It was Malakar’s personal speeder.

Malakar grabbed the aerodynamic vessel and hopped in, turning his head towards the priest. Without opening his mouth, Malakar’s order was clear. The priest reluctantly obliged and held on for his dear life when the vessel took off.

The journey was short, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant for the priest. Once the speeder had landed, his face was as white as the surroundings, and he felt absolutely awful. He was panting and clutched the seats firmly. Malakar could see that his passenger did not enjoy the ride.

“You look unwell, priest,” Malakar said.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” the priest frantically replied.

“If you throw up on my seats, priest, I shall replace the ruined leather with that from your own hide. Do you understand?”

The priest looked at Malakar with horrified disdain and said, “I understand.”

“Good,” Malakar replied, before getting out of the vehicle, “We are here...”

They arrived at Malakar’s apartment. From the outside, it looked exactly like all the others; each with the typical large, sliding doors and a walkway outside for pedestrians. Although the general surroundings in the mothership obeyed a white colour theme, these particular apartments took on a metallic grey, showing a more personal, classier vibe.

Malakar approached the entrance and the doors parted open. The doors had sensed the microchip in his suit and were now unlocked.

Malakar went through, and made himself comfortable. The priest, however, had yet another moment of reverence as he took in the new human dwelling for the first time. For a race of violent, bloodthirsty killers, these new humans certainly knew how to create a cosy, comforting vibe. He first discovered the lounge. It had a dark, brown, wooden floor with even darker leather seats. There were three of them and they all huddled around an exquisite coffee table in the centre. This, itself, sat on top of a fine, brown rug. There was also a vibrant, warm, artificial fireplace that had turned on by itself too. It was the apartment’s way of welcoming them. With all of this, including the many bookshelves lined up against the wall, it all felt incredibly homely.

- End of Page 03 –

Malakar was in the kitchen, open-plan and equally as elegant, preparing himself a beverage. Soon he would need to attend a Council meeting, so he prepared with his usual ritual. This time, however, he fancied something a little stronger than tea. An intense, but familiar aroma then filled the room. Coffee. At last, the cosy scene was complete.

Feeling more at ease, and with the opportunity to converse more privately with his captor, the priest felt now was a good time to speak. He had so many questions. And, more importantly, he still had no idea why Malakar actually kept him alive.

"So, umm… I wanted to ask you something,” the priest nervously stated.

Malakar remained silent.

The priest saw his response, but asked anyway.

“Why did you spare me... in the end?" he asked.

Malakar paused, slowly raised his head and, with a threatening tone, asked, “You’d rather I didn’t?”

The priest stepped back, his hands flying up, saying, “No, no, I’m very grateful that you did,” a little sweat starting to form on his head, “I just wondered what it was exactly that made you do it, that’s all.”

Malakar returned his focus to making his coffee, saying, "Perhaps, because you are the first who prayed instead of fighting..."

"So, because of my faith, then?"

"...Perhaps..."

The priest looked down in thought, his hand on his chest where his crucifix lay underneath, and quietly said, "Then God really did answer my prayers…”

Malakar continued swirling his coffee and said, "Your God is nothing but old lies and fiction, priest..."

"And yet, here I am; still breathing..."

"You are alive, priest, because I spared you. Nothing more..."

"But you didn't spare the others. Surely that is a sign?"

"A sign of what?"

"A sign that the Father above is watching over me. A sign that the Almighty spared me for a reason. And perhaps it was because of my faith; because I believed in him until the very end…”

"You have not been saved, priest. You are a prisoner now. Like a slave, you are a trophy that I have seized. You are, however, the only religious one I have ever taken."

"I don't believe that. Something stopped you from killing me. Perhaps... admiration of my faith."

- End of Page 04 –

Malakar started to feel a touch of irritation, "Do not flatter yourself, priest. You have nothing that could impress me..."

The priest, however, remained unconvinced.

"Maybe I was curious and wanted to learn more," Malakar continued, "But you are not special, priest; not in any way."

The priest looked down in contemplation, believing Malakar this time.

"What do I call you?" the priest asked, looking back up, unsure if he should use Malakar's real name or not; the name he'd heard used in the church.

"To you, it is master..."

The priest frowned in disappointment and asked, "Well, can I at least see your face?"

Malakar stopped what he was doing, and slowly turned his head towards the priest.

"...You want to see my face?" Malakar said in a sinister tone, "Very well, then. Here, I shall show you..."

Malakar then placed his hands firmly upon the sides of his helmet and gradually pulled it off. Once all the way off his head, it was delicately lowered onto the black marble worktop in front of him. Then, in a flash, Malakar aggressively charged towards the priest.

The priest tensed anxiously when he saw him approach and stepped back saying, "I'm sorry! Please don't! I didn't mean to-"

But before the priest could finish, Malakar picked him up by the shirt, pulled him unpleasantly close to his heavily scarred face, and said, “This is my face, priest. Remember it, for it is the face of your master... and may well be the last face you ever see..."

After catching a glimpse of Malakar's battle-marked image and intent stare from those grey, machine-like eyes, the priest turned away in horror and slammed his eyelids shut.

"I'm sorry!” the priest whimpered, “Please put me down!"

After squinting in irritation, Malakar put down his weak and trembling new pet. He then grabbed his small, but strong, cup of coffee and gulped it down. He slammed the glass back on the surface with a ringing thud when he finished it, before turning around to make his way to the exit. But just before he left, he said, "You are lucky you are my prisoner, human; I doubt my sister would be so generous..."

Generous? The priest was shocked at the use of such a word. How was making him a prisoner the slightest bit generous? He grew highly worried of what was to come in this place. His life had been fairly pleasant up until now; up until the invasion of Hope by these, what he considered, demons...

That had to be it...

Many people had abandoned their faith. Because of the technological advancements of society, God ceased to exist to them. But he was one of the few people who still believed. This, he thought, had to be the reason he was saved in that church. It was because he was the only one around, amongst his people, who still had a good heart and was true of faith. The others had all been punished for their lack of it. These demons who invaded them were sent directly by God as punishment for their sins; or so he believed. And now, he had actually seen one of them up close; an image that haunted him dearly...

- End of Page 05 –

"Wait! Where are you going?" he called, just before Malakar left.

"Out. Where do you think I'm going?" Malakar answered without stopping.

"But where? Can't I come with you?"

Malakar finally stopped and turned around, "Where I am going, priest, you will not be welcome. And do not venture outside these walls, either. There are many in this place who would see you torn apart before them. So I would not recommend it. There is food and water in the kitchen. But if you eat it all, I will tear you open myself, and get it all back..."

As soon as Malakar finished speaking, his automatic doors closed, leaving the priest with a very clear and heavy wake up call. He really wasn't going to enjoy this place...

Malakar hopped back into his speeder, and took off to the Council Chamber. He actually arrived early, for once. He was not in the mood for discussion with his prisoner, and most definitely not in the mood to arrange a funeral for his now deceased brother. He had told Masaron not to go. He knew it was a bad idea. And now, he'd lost a potential successor to his clan. He also lost one of the best personal assistants he'd ever had. Masaron was very good at that. He always kept Malakar up to date. He was also very tech savvy, which had gained him a position amongst the Council's intelligence team. Masaron hadn’t just kept Malakar up to date with his personal tasks, he’d also kept him in the know of the various secret happenings that the new humans were involved in. He had been a very useful asset to Malakar. He’d lost a very valuable individual indeed. Nonetheless, he focussed on the task at hand, entered the Council Chamber and got on with it.

In a battle, such as the one Malakar had just fought in, there were far too many new humans taking part for them to all be debriefed individually. So, in this situation, it was the commanders in charge of the battle, or the clan leaders, who were held accountable. Their own personal performance, however, was not examined like before from their helmet cameras. The battle of Hope had been crystal clear from space, and the Council had watched it all unfold from orbit.

Malakar was joined at the center of the chamber with the other four clan leaders that took part. Tiberius was on the far left side and Malakar the far right. The meeting was short and they were all given time off Council duty to prepare their dead. Malakar left feeling disappointed. He was not disappointed with anyone in the Council; just with himself. It was his own lack of vigilance that allowed Masaron to fight. He should have been firmer. So what if Masaron had been upset? At least he would still be alive...

Malakar felt that his father would be ashamed of him. It was a feeling that shadowed him for the rest of the day, and left him feeling rather bitter. He had to arrange his brother's funeral, along with the others in his clan who'd died. He needed to make a few calls, but when he opened his wrist-computer, he realised he'd never see his brother's face on there again. He thought for a while before making his calls, and headed back to his apartment when he'd finished.

The priest was sitting patiently on a bar stall at the kitchen worktop when Malakar returned.

"It is time to go, priest," he said as soon as he entered, "we're leaving."

"Leaving? What? But we've only just got here?"

"Now!" Malakar ordered.

"Agh!” the priest quailed, before shooting to his feet.

- End of Page 06 –

Malakar led the way back to his ship, and when they arrived at the docking bay, there were other clan members waiting for them. Malakar headed up the ramp, followed by the priest, and behind them four clan members carried the covered body of Masaron onboard. His body was on a rectangular board, and the carriers placed the board on a table in the ship's storage bay. After that, the clan members disembarked.

"Are they not coming with us?" the priest asked.

"No. Only my brother. I will be delivering him personally…”

"Personally to where?"

"To my home planet; where his body belongs..."

After seeing them off, Malakar entered the cockpit and began preparations for takeoff. He sat comfortably in the pilot's chair whilst the priest stood behind him and watched him control the ship. The boarding tunnel detached and the large docking fixtures also receded from the ship’s hull. Finally, after everything was clear, the mighty propulsion engines at the ship's rear fired up and blasted it out of the mothership’s docking bay. Like a bolt of lightning, it flashed across the vacuum of space until it reached a large, open clearing, far from the mothership. There, Malakar punched in a few buttons and a small holographic planet appeared with the letters M-A-D-E-R written underneath it.

"How do you pronounce that?" the priest asked curiously.

"It rhymes with invader..." Malakar answered.

"...How appropriate..."

Finally, Malakar hit one last button, and the ship was immediately flung into the intense realm of a wormhole. It was a journey that sucked them in and spat them back out into a system never seen before by the priest. There, ahead of them, a large and healthy-looking planet dominated their view from the cockpit. It glowed with lush greens and oceanic blues. It was a masterpiece...

"It's beautiful," the priest said as the colourful exoplanet illuminated their dark dwelling.

"Of course it is," Malakar answered with pride, "it is my homeworld..."

The lush green surface gradually got nearer and nearer, until finally the ship touched down upon a large landing pad.

"We are here," Malakar announced.

He immediately got up and headed to the back of the ship. The priest followed him, and watched as the ramp slowly dropped down. As it lowered, bright light flooded in and lit up the ship's dark, red, smokey interior. The light almost hurt the priest's eyes. He held out his hand to shield his face, but soon his eyes adjusted and he almost couldn't believe what he saw.

There before him, a bright, sunny landscape with vibrant green grasses, earthy mounds, distant, mountainous peaks and a large, refreshing lake, were altogether one of the most welcoming sights he'd ever seen. He was so surprised by what he saw, in fact, that he didn't even notice the colossal palace ahead, nor the giant bridge that led to it. He didn't even realise that there was a person waiting for them by the ramp, until he looked down.

Malakar stepped down, and he was greeted by the waiting clan member.

- End of Page 07 –

"Welcome home, Councillor Malakar," the clan member said, "It is good to see you."

Malakar greeted the clan member in response, and they had a short, brief conversation about various recent events. The priest, meanwhile, made his way down and began to wander around outside. After reaching the left edge of the landing platform, he took in a big, deep breath of fresh air and gazed at the open fields ahead. He marvelled at the vast, magnificent expanse that occupied his vision. But, in many ways, it also utterly bewildered him. How could the new humans live in such a tranquil setting? These people were supposed to be raging, violent monsters; completely incapable of sitting still without the urge to kill something. And yet, here was a scene worthy of heaven itself...

Even the cows were happy...

He then heard the clan member say, "I'll tell the others right away," before departing.

The priest turned around and watched as the clan member got into the speeder parked on the far right of the landing pad. Just like on the mothership, the speeder hovered upwards, before shooting off to its destination.

Malakar then approached him and said, "This way, priest..." before leading the way over the large, sturdy-looking bridge ahead.

The sand-coloured surface of the stone shone bright in the glaring rays of the sun. Soon they reached the center of the bridge and the priest was once more overcome by the sheer beauty of the landscape. To the right, an enormous lake shimmered in the sunlight and brought yet more beams of joy. He saw birds flying in the distance and bathing in the lake, singing as they did so. He even saw ducks quacking away; all of them content and thriving in the blissful setting. It was truly serene.

As they continued on, his gaze finally met that of the almighty palace that stood firmly in place. It was a dark, metallic grey, with many smooth and rounded spires on top. It had a very aerodynamic look to it and the sun clearly gave this place a shimmering blessing too. The priest was in awe of its sheer size and presence.

"Is... is that yours?" the priest asked in almost disbelief as they approached the enormous fortress.

"It is..."

The priest returned his gaze to the almighty dwelling and slowly started to realise the true extent of Malakar's influence and power. Not only was he greeted upon arrival by a saluting clan member, but he also owned this colossal, alien-looking castle surrounded by miles and miles of bewitching, fertile scenery. This man was practically a king.

After their long trek across the bridge, they were soon at the large, grand entrance. The doors opened as the pair approached, exposing an exquisite interior of vibrant colours and classy decor. They went on through, following the huge, red carpet that lined the grand hallway right up to the very end. There, it met a brass statue of a warrior holding a spear. The statue was also very smooth and aerodynamic, like something one would see in a post-modern art exhibition.

The priest still couldn't believe it all. The new humans had class too? It looked so civilised and had such an impressive interior. It was not what he expected at all. Clearly these new humans were full of surprises. Perhaps it was possible, even, that he was wrong about them...

- End of Page 08 –

Malakar lead them up to the statue, where the red carpet ended with a T-junction and split into two paths.

"Where to now?" the priest asked.

"Now, priest, we part ways. I am going to change into something more comfortable, and arrange a few things. But I will speak to you again, later. Berylia, here, will lead you to your living quarters," Malakar explained as he gestured to the new human girl standing right behind the priest.

The priest didn't even hear her approach, and he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw her. The large, armoured, new human girl towered over him, and looked more than capable of dealing with any trouble.

"See you soon," Malakar said abruptly, before heading off in the other direction.

"Wait," the priest called, anxiously, "Where are you going?"

"I just told you; away. I have things to do," he answered as he strolled down the hallway, "But do not worry, priest; she has orders not to kill you. So you are safe, for now..."

The priest gulped.

"Come on, human," Berylia said in a firm voice, and guided the priest with a strong hand.

The priest obliged.

He was taken through many halls and stairways, all with the same exquisite features and expensive-looking ornaments. Finally, they reached the bedroom. This, too, was decorated well and full of luxurious, fine things. The bed was in the center of the room against the wall, and it even had silky, red bed-curtains. The priest couldn't believe his luck. For a prisoner, he was certainly being well-accommodated. It was like being in an expensive hotel.

"Do prisoners always get treated this well?" he asked Berylia.

"Only if they are prisoners of our clan," she answered.

“Don’t the others?” he asked.

“No…” she said.

"Why not?"

"The other clans do not possess as rich a history as ours; our clan is well-known and carries with it much influence. We must therefore abide by higher standards and provide improved levels of etiquette. As a result, our clan also happens to treat its human slaves better than most."

“I see,” the priest said, realising his luck, “Surely, though, there are some other clans that do the same?”

"Some, yes. But not many. It is mainly because of the old days; when Malakar's father used to rule the clan. Even before that, our clan leaders were more lenient than most, but he was an exception. He was good-natured and noble at heart, but also very clever. By treating his slaves well, they worked harder for him and were more motivated. They were also less likely to die from being overworked, as in other clans. Slaves are still a resource, even if we want them dead. It costs us money and time if they die…”

The priest looked down in thought, realising a more cold-blooded reason for their good manners.

- End of Page 09 –

“But remember," she continued, "you are not his slave, priest. You are his prisoner. He does not need to offer you the same treatment…”

“What’s the difference?” the priest asked, puzzled.

“The difference is that our slaves provide us with income and are useful to us, long-term.”

“Long-term?” the priest asked, his breaths slowly becoming heavy.

“Yes,” she answered, “we keep our slaves…”

The priest’s heart began to pound.

“And your prisoners?” he gulped, his face now much whiter, “What happens to them?”

“It depends on how useful they are.”

“Useful?”

“Yes. Useful.”

“But I’m useful!” he insisted, “I’m very useful!”

“We shall see, human…”

“Wait, why can’t I be a slave? I don’t want to be a prisoner!”

“Our kind are no longer taking slaves; we are not allowed to, anymore..."

"Why not?" he asked with a nervous trickle of sweat on his forehead.

"It is to speed up your extinction..." she answered flatly.

His eyes slowly grew wider as a horror grew within him; a horror that showed him how heartless these people really were.

"Oh..." he answered with delay, shocked and almost devoid of emotion.

He was now firmly placed back into reality, realising the truth and direness of the situation. He wasn’t safe here, whatsoever. All the scenery, all the splendor he witnessed; it was just an evil illusion to lure him into a false sense of comfort.

He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to tame the immense anxiety that began to build up inside him. Berylia saw him seated there and simply assumed he was settling in a little more.

"I will be outside if you need me, human,” she said to him, before leaving the room.

He watched her leave, knowing she was now guarding his exit outside. Now he really was a prisoner...

His mind immediately began to race with highly unpleasant thoughts, as unwelcome as they were. He needed to get out of this place. He needed to escape. He was going to die here if he didn’t. There must be a way. There must be a way out.

- End of Page 10 –

As time went by with troubling visions pouring in, his immediate environment soon came back into focus. There, in front of him, where the light flooded into the room; a balcony. Could this be it? Could this be his escape? He got straight up and hurried to the balcony doors. They were unlocked. He couldn’t exit them fast enough.

The balcony was a half-moon shape, but this was a detail the priest hardly noticed as he scanned the area for a means of escape. He searched and searched, but there was nothing to aid his departure. There was no way out. Unless…

He slowly stepped towards the edge of the balcony and stopped when he reached the very tip. He leaned over to see the distance below. The very thought of it made him queasy. He closed his eyes and stepped back, shuddering at the thought. He couldn’t do it. He may have been religious, but he was no zealot. That was a jump even his God could not give him the courage for. No, he would have to leave himself to their mercy instead. But even that thought gave him nightmares. Surely, if they killed him, it would be quick and painless. Surely, they wouldn’t torture him to death. Surely…

What reason would they have?

As he began to dwell on it more, he wondered if the steep fall really was so bad. At least that would kill him instantly...

Just then, Berylia entered the room and saw him at the balcony.

“Needed some fresh air, human?” she remarked, “No matter. Come. Malakar is ready to see you now.”

Just like that, his opportunity had disappeared. Now he really would be at their mercy. He grabbed his crucifix and prayed, before Berylia escorted him out.

After being taken down a hallway on the same floor, he soon saw his captor ahead. Malakar was standing on a balcony platform overlooking the mountains and vast expanse of fields ahead. As the priest approached from behind, he noticed Malakar was wearing a charcoal coloured tunic, with dark trousers to match. He was also wearing well-polished boots. Despite how black they were, they glistened brightly in the sun.

"Greetings, priest..." Malakar welcomed.

The priest was too afraid to answer. His heart still pounded with fear. His face was pale and ghost-like. Malakar turned around to see his unusually quiet guest.

“Is something wrong, priest?”

“No, no,” he answered instantly, “nothing at all.’

‘Are you ok?” the priest then asked, changing subject to avoid suspicion.

Malakar turned back to his view and said, “Not my best, no…”

The priest, despite his jitteriness, picked up on Malakar's contemplative mood. Malakar almost looked worried, in fact. But the priest couldn’t imagine Malakar being anywhere near as worried as he was.

"Oh, what's wrong?" the priest asked, nervously looking around, "You look somewhat worried.”

- End of Page 11 –

"...I am," Malakar answered.

"What is it that’s worrying you,” the priest said with a little more concern, “if you don't mind me asking?"

"What worries me, priest, is this constant, undying question that lingers in my mind. One that I fear to answer..."

"I can't imagine anything giving you fear,” he responded as his eyes continued to dart around, “What question could possibly trouble you so?"

"The question of ‘what happens when there are no more humans left?’"

"Well, that sounds obvious. From your perspective, I imagine you'd all celebrate, surely?”

"We are not the celebrating kind..."

"No, I suppose not..."

"I believe that we will... I know, even, that we will fight amongst ourselves..."

"That is... very pessimistic..." he answered, still trying to hide the fear in his voice.

"But it is true, priest. My people are violent conquerors, and we bask in the drug-like haze of conflict... We know nothing else..."

"But, surely you must have some intellectuals amongst your people too, otherwise how would you have managed to build the wonders that I witnessed earlier?”

“Just because one is an intellectual does not mean they lack the propensity for violence.”

“But what about scientists and other educated professionals? I can’t imagine them ever resorting to savagery. If they did, they’d never get anything done. Then, you wouldn't have been able to achieve such advanced, sophisticated technology. You wouldn't have been able to build anything at all. Surely they were able to function well enough without violence and conflict?"

Malakar turned his head and stared deep into the priest’s eye, "You don't know our scientists..."

The priest stared back at Malakar, feeling his master’s eyes burn into him. It made him very uncomfortable, especially since he was trying to hide his look of anguish. He had to say something quick.

"Well,” the priest continued, “how in the world did they manage it, then? I would have thought that being a scientist required patience and control."

It worked. Malakar turned his head back to the fields ahead as he spoke.

"It is... a balanced lifestyle... Even if not fully involved in warfare, they are still trained warriors; they still enjoy the hunt and crave conquest. That is also, in fact, exactly why they become scientists. It is not so much to cure our diseases and treat our wounded, but to create weapons that can eliminate our enemies. They want to make weapons that they can purge your kind with. They are willing to learn, but only to apply the knowledge to destructive ends..."

The priest looked down in heavy thought. He now had a very understandable reason for why these people were the way they were. Their entire existence was, quite frankly, unsustainable. They lived for the kill, and they would probably kill each other to the very last one, if given the choice.

- End of Page 12 –

“I see…” the priest answered with a deeply concerned frown, realising that these people really were monsters.

The priest couldn’t help but look to his surroundings for a way out again. These people were dangerous. His master alone was dangerous enough. In fact, his master was alone. Right there, it was just the two of them. Berylia had gone back inside. There was even an entire field ahead to run into. Surely he could run. But he was still too high up...

"But,” Malakar continued, “something in me... something inside, is telling me that I can find a way to save them... to save them from themselves..."

Just then, the priest realised what he was saying, "That… is why you saved me…” he said looking at Malakar this time, “You want them to embrace faith... and to believe in peace.”

"Perhaps. Perhaps I did, to a certain extent, believe that I could learn something from you, priest; something that could aid me in my cause. But faith alone, I feel, will not do. We certainly don't need another false God to believe in, just to preach lies and control us all, like in the past. Those days of humanity are over. And my people wouldn't believe in such nonsense, anyway. But your tranquility that I witnessed, there in that chapel; it was unusual…”

The priest’s mind flooded with possibilities. This could be his saving grace. This could keep him alive. Or, at least, it could keep him alive long enough to find a way out of here. Useful; that’s what Berylia said. He had to be useful to them. But it also started to dawn on him that Malakar could be saved. Malakar seemed sincere in his search for something else, something that had a resounding resemblance to religion. He then started to wonder if all Malakar’s people could be saved. Perhaps, even, this was God himself coming through to them, trying to return them to the flock. The priest always knew that God worked in mysterious ways. But, if so, if this really was the answer, he would be doing more than just preventing the violent destruction that these people caused; he would also be saving his own people from total annihilation.

“I could help you with that,” the priest offered.

“I don’t know, priest,” Malakar denounced, “One does not simply convert to a faith, let alone one that has a history of indoctrination and lies.”

“The faith has changed considerably since then. There are no lies nor any indoctrination.”

“I highly doubt that… But we shall see, priest.”

Already, the priest started to lose hope with his idea. This would be far harder than he realised. Malakar said it himself; his people would never believe in such a thing. He sympathised for Malakar, in a way, and understood the situation he was in. But he also wondered if these people really were worth saving. They seemed doomed to their carnal nature and, as both he and Malakar believed, they probably would fight each other to the very end, ultimately destroying themselves...

"But, anyway," Malakar continued, "That is not why I called you here, priest. Tonight, it is my brother's funeral, and that of my other fallen brethren. You will be joining me and will watch with the others as I light the pyre. Therefore, I need you ready later in the evening. You will be given special clothes to wear as a sign of respect.”

“Others?” the priest asked with a nervous trickle.

- End of Page 13 –

“Yes. Many of my clan members will be there tonight to honour the fallen; those who died in the last battle. My slaves will also be attending.”

The priest looked down again, wondering what to expect. But, then, a deeply frightening question popped into his head.

"Will your sister be there?" he slowly asked.

"She should be," Malakar replied, to the priest’s discomfort, "But she is so irritating and unpredictable that I cannot possibly guarantee it. Sometimes she says she will do one thing, but does something completely different. Recently, before the last battle, she told an important Councillor in a Council meeting that she would improve on her behaviour. Then, right after that, she very nearly attacked one. Punishment for that, is not small..."

"She sounds dangerous," the priest said, trembling at the thought of being anywhere near her again.

"She is... But mostly to me. Others may die by her hand, but it is my reputation that gets tarnished by it."

The priest thought about Malakar’s words. Clearly Mersuvia wasn't just a danger to him, but to most people she encountered. This knowledge, however, didn't exactly make him feel safer.

The thought of suicide crossed his mind once again and he started to peer at the balcony edge once more. Anything but Mersuvia. She really would torture him to death. She said it herself…

Just then, Malakar turned his head towards the priest. He saw on his face a look of sheer horror and desolation; the kind of look that some of his victims had given in the past before attempting to kill themselves. He then followed the priest’s fixed gaze towards the edge of the balcony, and the fatal drop below…

“Priest,” Malakar called politely, causing the priest to turn back and face him, “Come this way. I have something to show you…”

Malakar then firmly guided the priest away from the edge and back towards the fortress. Once inside, Malakar led from the front and Berylia guarded the priest’s rear. He was now sandwiched between the two, preventing any obvious escape, and was escorted to a part of the palace grounds that he had never seen before.

Just outside of the palace, around the back, there was an open sanded area. This area had several vehicles lined up near the main building for traversing the large expanse of the palace estate. But, just before the vehicles, there were two large cages that had been transported and dumped into position. One of them contained a half-naked man, but the other one contained something far more extraordinary.

“What is that?” the priest asked nervously as he stared at the strange, black, alien-looking creature hissing behind the thick bars.

“That, priest, is a Sangelin…” Malakar answered with sinister reverence.

- End of Page 14 –

"What is a Sangelin?" the priest quivered, looking directly at the nightmarish creature.

"It is a creature my ancestors created long ago; a genetic combination of many animals, moulded into one for a specific purpose…”

"And what purpose is that?" the priest questioned, starting to wonder if he really wanted to know the answer.

"To unleash carnage, of course..." Malakar replied with satisfaction.

Slightly unnerved, the priest gulped and said, "So, it is a war-beast?"

"Less of a beast, more of a hound; a reptilian hound."

"A reptilian hound?" the priest’s eyes filled with distress, fearful of what kind of freak monstrosity he was looking at.

"Yes; a reptilian hound. I know that there is wolf in there, but also various species of lizard; including crocodile. It is able to regenerate remarkably well, and can sense the heat of its prey too. It can also hide itself very well, as there is chameleon in there as well. But its primary use was always as a hunting hound. It has a body much like a dane, but with a longer neck and a snake-shaped head bearing powerful alligator jaws. It also has a forked tongue, as expected, and scaly, black skin. Charcoal even. It can taste its prey in the air. And, as you can see, they are also quite big. It may surprise you, then, to know that they are actually pack hunters."

The priest stared in horror at the grotesque abomination in front of him. He could only imagine what kind of hellish onslaught this thing could unleash. And he dared not even think about a pack of them...

"Do your people play God so readily," the priest asked with disdain.

"In this world, priest, we are the Gods…”

The priest then turned to face his captor. He now realised the level of hubris in him and of his people. They were playing with life like it was a toy, creating hellish animals that were out of place in this Universe. They were not God’s creations at all. They were the work of the devil...

“Look in the distance, priest,” Malakar continued, “Even the cows you see have been engineered to improve their function. Those ones in particular have been engineered to produce little to no methane whatsoever in their stomachs; a common problem with cows in the olden days. So our farm animals do not produce the harmful greenhouses gases that yours do. Yet, they taste just as delicious as before..." Malakar licked his lips.

“It is still wrong,” the priest added.

“Ha. Right. Wrong. It does not matter, priest. What matters is reality and who is in control of it. And right now, I am in control of your reality…”

The priest looked down in discomfort. Everything Malakar said was true. He could not resist anything his captor imposed on him.

“Anyway,” Malakar continued, “The cows are not the reason I brought you here, priest. I am showing you the Sangelin for a reason. In the other cage, you will find one of my slaves. He tried to escape. He thought that he could relieve himself of my possession, at will. He was wrong…”

- End of Page 15 –

“So he is in a cage as punishment,” the priest said, hoping that was all the caged man would suffer.

“For now, yes,” Malakar answered, to the priest’s relief, “But you will now bear witness to his main punishment.”

The priest looked up at Malakar, intently worried of what this slave master would do to his slave.

“Over there, in those fields,” Malakar continued, “is where he tried to flee. He ran into the wilderness, thinking I would not find him. I treat my slaves very well, priest. But sometimes I wonder if this is the incorrect thing to do. It breeds complacency amongst them and gives them ideas. He will now be reminded of what world he lives in, who owns him and what dangers exist. And so will you…”

The priest snapped his head to Malakar, worried of what he would now do to the poor man in the cage, and possibly to him.

Malakar simply typed a few commands into his wrist-computer and before long, the man’s cage door opened up.

“Run slave,” Malakar said to him, “Run while you still have a head start…”

The caged man then sprung up from the ground and shot out of the cage with desperation. He was sweating heavily, probably from anxiety, and had a very light, underfed frame. He was quick on his feet.

Before long, however, Malakar entered yet more commands into his wrist-computer, and the cage of the dreaded Sangelin began to open up…

“Oh no,” the priest said, horrified at what was about to happen, “please don’t…”

But it was no use. The cage door continued to open up, and soon a hungry Sangelin caught sight and scent of a running snack.

“Oh,” Malakar continued, “and did I mention they are attracted to fleeing animals?”

The Sangelin immediately rushed out upon the sand and hurriedly pursued its prey in the field. Its agile frame resembled a running hound, tracking its food with immense speed and precision. It homed in on its moving target like a hawk.

The man had been running hard and fast, assumedly aware of his fate. His heavy sweating did not help his escape either, as each droplet gave the Sangelin more reassurance of its direction. But the man wasn’t exactly that far away. The Sangelin was so fast that it covered the man’s distance in but a few seconds before it pounced on him from behind.

The creature bellowed and hissed as it ripped and tore pieces of the man’s back out. Flesh flew in all directions and covered all things in a rich red paint.

The priest couldn’t watch. He had never seen such savagery right in front of him before and he felt queasy beyond belief. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, to Malakar’s irritation.

“I hope you are watching, priest,” Malakar commented, “I would hate to have to show you all over again with another slave…”

- End of Page 16 –

The priest heard him well and clear, even if he could not believe what he heard. This monster, the one standing beside him, was willing to sacrifice another human life, just to show him a violent display that he would not forget. For the sake of another human life, the priest opened his eyes again and watched the horrifying display ahead.

The Sangelin dug deep into the man’s torso, exposing his shoulder blade, ribs and even his lungs. But it wasn’t just the visual display that made the priest feel so sick, it was also the blood-chilling screams. He had never heard another human being, let alone another man, scream so intensely. He wished the creature would just hurry up and finish the poor man off. He was now starting to feel faint.

After flaying flesh and bone in all directions, the loud, hissing creature began to bite directly into the crunchy torso. Bones cracked and snapped as the Sangelin’s mighty jaws crushed straight through them. And soon, to the priest’s relief, the man’s screaming stopped…

The priest gave a heavy sigh, whilst holding his crucifix, and looked to the ground feeling drained and devoid of energy.

“You know, priest. I once had a slave who ran inside my palace and jumped from a balcony, wishing to end his life…”

The priest opened his eyes and looked up towards Malakar, now becoming frightfully aware that Malakar was on to him.

“He survived the fall,” Malakar said.

The priest then looked away in shock. Disturbed of what he was hearing.

“He did not survive the punishment,” Malakar confirmed.

The priest’s adrenaline now coursed through him like a powerful drug. Not only did his captor know what he was up to, but his idea had a possible flaw; he may actually survive the fall, after all. From what he witnessed today, escape by running was definitely not an option. But now his other plan was also void. He imagined being chased by that Sangelin creature, but with an added broken leg to slow him down even more. He just couldn’t think of it. He was horrified enough. This whole day had just been one huge spate of bad luck, disaster, misfortune and misery. But the worst thing of all was that terrifying feeling of dread that the worst was still to come…

“Go now, priest,” Malakar said, “Go back to your dwelling. Wear what is required of you and make sure that you are ready when called. You would not want to be the Sangelin’s next meal now, would you?”

Berylia placed her heavy hand on the unnerved priest, making him jump, and he was forced back inside to his living quarters. Anxious, queasy and light-headed, he simply obliged without any thought at all.

And although he had the feeling that the worst was still to come, he could not have even imagined the hell that awaited him…

- End of Page 17 –

- End of Chapter 4 -