Death Gate

Arc 3: Under a crimson moon

'Welcome to Highland Mall'

A soft melodic tone hummed through the mall's speakers. The highland mall; a gate that is like those found in America. A spider-web of interconnected stores, chains, and eateries, connected the web of escalators and elevators allowing easy transportation across the vast shopping complex. An overworld to the underworld.

Yet this was a gate; and like most gates, darkness abodes. The once pristine white walls were fading to grey, plaster cracking and dirty. Smudged with years of age. Shop fronts abandoned; window displays empty or boarded up, the once bustling paths littered with debris and trash, lights barley illuminate anything pass a few meters.

"Why are we here?" Asked a small Weasley member of the crimson bandits. "Because we have business to attend too." A larger man berated his junior.

"What's the matter? You scared of a rumour?" Another member laughed.

"Fuck yeah. Everyone is beginning to disappear at night." The smaller man asked pleadingly.

Four men stood ready:

Their leader, a hulking brute; beside him, a weasel-faced man clutching a metal case, An older balding man and finally, a well-dressed gentleman. Every hair slicked back and gelled in place.

All clad in the colours of their crimson guild.

"Why are we here again?" Weasel whined; checking the hall for the hundredth time.

"Because business don't stop, demon or no demon." The well-dressed bandit sniped at him. "Hey..." "Yeah?" The weasel asked softly.

"Why do you think people keep on disappearing? I know what rumours say but... Why?" Both the leader and well-dressed bandit looked at one another;

"Probably pissed off the wrong guy. Sold his brother or sister or whatever..."

"Either way, stop being so scared and hurry up, these guys should be in bed about now." The leader added.

They continued to the dilapidated old food court. Desolate tables scattered over the wide-open space. All smothered in dust and broken glass. Old tins of food lay opened.

"Up ahead, their waiting for us." The balding man pointed ahead to a group of individuals.

Military cameo and tanned skin; like they have just arrived from war-torn jungles. A squad of military types armed to the teeth; sporting all manner of blades and guns, all eyeing the four like predators.

Leading the armed group; a woman, tank top and long cameo pants, hair hidden by a cap, large hazel eyes peek from below. At ease within the calm of the empty.

"Your late." She barked, her speech riddled with a heavy accent, South American maybe.

"We apologies, we had to take extra precautions." The band all bowed in unison.

"Bring out the goods already." Another bandit growled from behind her. Their guns twitching slightly.

"Oi. No shooting, we don't want what's in here waking up." The women ordered sternly, her squad nodded in understanding and lowered their weapons slightly.

The weasel squirmed at her words.

"What's here? No, no, no... Boss we need to get-"

"Shut it..." The leader scolded his lackey. "Give me the case and we can be on our way-"

The weasel stuttered out in fear, clutching his metal case harder. "Hand it over, now!" The well-dressed man snapped.

"What's the holdup? We have other places we need to be." The women questioned impatiently; she examined them under her sharp hazel eyes. "We are very for the inconvenience however there has been some unexplained disappearance that has our team members here rattled." The well-dressed man lowered his head slightly in an apologetic bow.

"Yeah... The usual crew is gone. They sent cachorras today." Her hazel twinkle with curiosity.

"¿Por qué estás tardando tanto?" (What's taking so long?) One of the camo men question their leader.

"Las japs ​​tienen miedo a la oscuridad." (The Japs are scared of the dark.) Another added, all laughing to themselves.

"Por allí algo se movió!" (Over there something moved!) One of the squads shouted, pointing his gun into the shadows.

The bandits turned around like scared dogs. Fire emerging from their fists.

"Where is it!?" The fat man roared, twisting his neck constantly.

"Hahahahahaha, No asustes a nuestros amigos carmesí, ¿vale?" (Don't scare our crimson friends, okay?) The female looked back at her underlings. A snicker from her curved mouth.

"Quickly now bring it here." She demanded of the weasel.

Reluctantly he handed the case over. Inside, golden chips stacked from wall to wall.

"Muy bonita, sí. ¿Verdad chicos?" (Very beautiful, yes. Right guys?) All her men nodding greedily at their haul.

"Bring them out." Her command was answered by rustling shadows; A group of people emerged from the dark behind the squad.

Men and women of all ages, ranging from their 20's to 50's all had one common trait; scars, mutilations, and an eerie silence. Chained together, arm to arm, some linked by their throat to the man in front of him.

Among them, children. Chained in place with their parents; some carrying younger ones to their arms. All bearing the same dull eyes, emptiness; no fear, no pain.

"The product you ordered." She gestured her arms as if she is selling them a fancy new car.

"Fresh as morning milk."

As they walked the woman cut the group down the middle, stopping half the group in their tracks.

"What are you doing? We ordered 12?" The bald man shouted at the camo clad woman.

"Deal's changed Carmesí. Price is double for all of them." She smirked greedily at the bandits.

"We had a deal!" The leader interjected, but before he could get any closer one of her squad members aimed a rifle at his head.

"Take 6 or nothing at all."

"Boss... something is better than nothing." The slicked back bandit whispered behind the leader.

"Prices go up in our business Carmesí. If you can't afford the game, don't play." The bandits exchanged glances, contemplating their situation. The shadows thickened behind them, choking out any form of light in the background.

*Clang* *Clang* *Clang*

The echoes rang, a shiver running through every spine. "Ellas trajeron apoyo!" (They brought back up!) One of the men shouted, pointing at something in the darkness.

"He's here, he's here, he's here!" Weasel screeched like a terrified monkey. The fat bandit clenched his fists hard. Flames building behind his gloves.

"Idiots, the deal fails and you bring in reinforcements... pedazos de mierda." (You shitheads...) She began cursing under her breath at the Bandits.

"Que nadie dispare sus armas. Los mataremos a la antigua usanza." (No one shoot. We will kill them old school.) Unsheathing her machete.

*Clang* *Clang* *Clang*

The metal boots drew closer, each criminal on edge; hearts beating out of their chests, senses strained, muscles twitching erratically. Their breaths shallower. A fight would erupt; the moment of truth fast approaching. All ready to fight, save for the weasel hunched over in cowardice

From the darkness emerged six knights. Their black plate armour matching the shadows behind, azure eyes assessing the group of criminals.

"What the fuck is that!?" The female shouted at the bandits.

"There here for you! Not us!" The leader bandit shot back at her.

"Están aquí por los carmesí. Correr-" (There here for the Crimson... Run-)

*Schlick*

The female is hoisted up into the air, a bone whip pierced the woman's sternum, dropping her body like a puppet. A skull faced grim reaper had skewered the woman.

His entire body wrapped in black fabric, tight against his skin. Every muscle in his arms and torso defined and outlined. Only his mask stared back, large black eyes of pure darkness staring out coldly, only azure dots in place of its pupils. He was surrounded by another 6 nights behind him; bringing the total to 12.

"Segador." (Reaper) The male soldiers aim their guns at the night, only for their barrels to be sliced away, by the whip wielding skeletal monster before them.

"Fucking kill it!" The fat bandit barked the order, instantly they hurled their fire at the knights. Blue flames surged forth, scorching hot inferno, turning the once black knights into golden and black effigies. They remained unaffected, moving into the fight with swords raised high. Metal blades sliced through skin effortlessly.

The onslaught of soldiers overwhelmed the bandits; some managed to hold back the attack, countering with fire-powered punches. Fists ablaze they faced the monstrous 6.

The whip primed once more, with a thrust the whip cut through the mid-sections of three bandits. Their bodies plummeted to the ground in agony.

<3/12>

Two knights flanked the left and right bandits, all while being defended by two other knights. They swung hard at their necks, slicing it cleanly off. Blood sprayed everywhere; corpses twitched wildly as nervous systems shutdown; jerking erratically before they too lay dead upon the floor.

<4/12>

"RUN!" The leader ordered seeing the losing battle unfold, trying to get the weasel to his feet. Before he too is stabbed through the back.

<7/12>

The last remainder of the squad, is cut down by the knights surrounding the reaper. Leaving crimson corpses littering the ground.

<10/12>

The reaper approached the captives. Speaking to the strongest looking one. Only they could lead them back. "Do you know the way back?" A low growl emitted from the depths of his mask.

"Sí." (Yes.) The scarred man spoke but a single word.

"Go." With one flick of his wrist, the chains are cut free; all taking off towards safety. Holding onto their children for dear life. Six knights an escort into the shadows.

The weasel remained huddled on the ground. Out of fear more than a sense of smarts. The reaper lifted him by the neck, meeting his eyeline. "...Please...d-don't k-kill-"

"Do you wish to live?" Reaper interrupted with his same cold voice, still hoisted above the ground.

"Yes...Please let me go, please-please-please." Pathetically begging like the rat, he was. The reaper released his grip.

"Go, spread what you saw. The darkness is *MINE*."

Weasel scampered away like a rat. Noises and squeaks filling the mall's hall.

The knights began to pile the bodies upon each other; atop one another like cordwood. Forming two separate piles. First, the white robed corpses. Then the Crimson members. Until all that remains, is a mess of blood and viscera. All except the female leader, barley clinging to life.

"Puta...madre." (Fuck...ing.) The woman had to use all her strength just to keep her wounds closed.

"No, me asustas, diablo." (You don't scare me, Devil.) Her voice seething with defiance.

The reaper stood at the piles, opening his hand. Tendrils burst forth, wrapping themselves around the corpses of the fallen. Black abyss, reducing in size until eventually the piles disappeared. Leaving nothing but pooled crimson on the yellowed floor.

"La señora muerte me recibe con los brazos abiertos." (The lady death welcomes me with open arms.) The woman continued her brave display in the face of death. The masked skull offered no words. Walking towards his quarry; stopping short and instead picking up one of the assault rifles and firing into the roof.

*RATATATATATATATATA*

*Groan* *Bang* *Groan* *Bang**Groan* *Bang* *Groan*

The mall seemed to come alive at the ringing gunshots, its echo seemed to piss off the entire realm.

"Cobarde, acaba conmigo tú mismo." (Coward, finish me off yourself.) The woman cried, blood gurgling in her mouth as she cursed the reaper. He discarded his gun before turning back to the shadows.

"There are things worse than death." He uttered coldly.

*Groan* *Bang* *Groan* *Bang* *Groan* *Bang* *Groan*

It drew closer, gnashing and grumbling from every direction; A chorus of inhuman screams rang forth, loud piercing.

"Ven aca, acaba conmigo." (Come on, finish it with me.) The woman wept as the nightmare approached her. Reaper vanished into the shadows along with his army.

Replaced in an instant by monsters; humanoid in appearance, yet lacking eyes or a nose just an elongated mouth that stretched along its face, like a razor. Every individual hand barbed with shards of flesh. Malformed, mutated abominations of mankind. Wearing uniforms that would have belonged to the workers of the storefronts they emerge from.

"Cobarde ... Asqueroso cobarde." (Coward, fucking coward.) She shouted from the floor, desperately trying to crawl to safety. The crowd surrounded her. Groaning, licking, and feasting; enveloping her in a mass of bodies.

"No...

"No!"

"NOOOOOOOOO..."

---

The reaper exited the amber gate. His knights vanished and he is all alone. The masked man lowered his hood; removing the skull that haunted the shadows. Once the reaper is gone, Eren is restored.

"That's enough death for today." Eren lifted his phone from his pocket, its face light up. 2:45 PM in the afternoon.

The gate stood in an abandoned factory in the middle of nowhere yet still close to his home.

"I need to get home. Emi will be expecting me to have prepared her afternoon tea." Eren muttered as he looked around. It had only been two months since his return; yet the world felt so small to Eren. The bandits keep their operations going, at least they were too scared to go out at night.

With his tasks for today done, Eren left for home. Skulking through shadows; keeping out of sight of all. No wanting to even hint at who could be in the shadows.

Waiting for him there, his sister Emi. Pouting at him with her cute puffy cheeks.

"You're late." Emi folded her arms waiting at the door for Eren to return. Eren let out a deep sigh.

He stood at his front door, facing down his annoyed sister.

"Sorry Emi, traffic." She searched his body, looking for the barest trace of food. "Where is it?" "Where's what?" Eren said as innocently as he could.

"The food you were going to bake?"

"You mean... This food?" From behind his back Eren produced a batch of freshly bought doughnuts. Emi's eyes light up at the sight of the confectionery.

She bounced around the door like a rabbit, clearly trying her best to hide her excitement.

"Afternoon tea will be ready shortly." Eren stood at the door groaning slightly; happy in these mundane moments, but the weight of his actions all ways with him.