Hot Blooded Episode 1: The Prodigal Prince (Supernatural Thriller Series) (2 page)

Latrib gasped.  “No, Kilar, don’t!” Latrib tackled his son to the ground.

Kilar braced himself for the impact, but his eyes bulged when Tetslen’s chin knocked the wind out of him.  “Son of a bitch!”  He gasped for air, rolling out from underneath Tetslen’s face.  The ship lurched from Tetslen’s impact, and Kilar fell backwards as he choked back the bile that threatened to overflow from his throat.  He scrambled to his feet, but felt Latrib’s massive hands encase his body before he could stand upright.  He felt the air whoosh past his face when Latrib brought him up to eye-level.

“Drop the rocks, Kilar.”  Kilar heard Latrib bellow out the command, but he closed his eyes to block the unrestricted spit from blinding him.

“Damn it, Latrib, you got water on my face!”  Kilar shook his head to free his face from the warm spittle.  “I’ll kill you for this, you bastard!”

Latrib’s teeth clenched.  He let go of Kilar with his right hand and raised it above his head.  Kilar’s eyes grew wide when he saw the column of water that rose out of the sea in accordance with Latrib’s gesture. 

“No, no, no, no, no!”  Kilar wriggled his body in Latrib’s firm grasp.

Latrib felt his whole body shake.  He choked down on Kilar with renewed force.  “I said, drop the rocks!”

“I don’t have the fucking rocks!”  Kilar chomped down on the skin fold between Latrib's thumb and forefinger.   The tough skin gave way to droplets of blood that seeped into Kilar’s mouth and down the front of his body.  Latrib winced, and Kilar felt the giant’s retaliation when the hand surrounding him compressed his body further.  The action squeezed the air from his lungs without giving him room to refill them, and he deepened his bite.  The skin fold felt like a slab of granite that ground against his teeth.  He wiggled his shoulders, pulling himself out of Latrib’s grasp.  He began to feel light-headed.

Kilar felt a welcome release in Latrib’s pressure as soon as Tetslen’s groans became audible. 

Latrib’s face paled.  “If you don’t have the rocks?”

Latrib flung Kilar to the ground, and Kilar plummeted into the deck of the ship face-down.  The floor planks underneath him shattered with his landing.  He heard the column of water crash as it fell back into the sea. 

Latrib screamed, a sound so loud it made Kilar’s ears ring.  “What did you do!  Oh Rekanii, please tell me he didn’t swallow them.  Tetslen, can you hear me?  Try to make yourself throw up!”

“Did you just take Rekanii’s name in vain?” Kilar asked.  Bringing one leg up at a time, he connected his feet to the floor.  He stepped to the side of the splintered wooden planks. 

Latrib’s head jolted around to look Kilar dead in the eyes.  “Shut up, Kilar!”  Tetslen’s moans became gargled wails.  Molten lava seeped out of Tetslen’s nose and mouth, eating away at any bit of flesh it touched.  Latrib grabbed onto Tetslen’s left hand with both of his, rocking back and forth as Tetlsen’s body convulsed.  The lava burned a hole through Tetslen’s throat, and seeped out of that as well.  His eyes rolled into the back of his head.  The lava radiated heat, but Latrib didn’t think to cool the temperature with water, even when his own flesh began to sear with pain.  He pressed his forehead against his son’s fist.  The tears that feel from his eyes fizzled and became steam before they even touched the lava.  The soft red and orange streaks danced along the boy’s body until they cooled off and hardened into stone once more.  Tetslen’s body became still.

For a moment, the only sound that anyone heard was Latrib’s soft sobs.  Kilar stepped up to Tetslen’s shoulder, in front of Latrib.  The red obsidian was still giving off heat.  Kilar looked at Tetslen’s face, then turned to Latrib. 

“Look at me, Latrib,” Kilar said.  Latrib’s body quivered, but his head stayed low.  Kilar sighed.  “All right, here’s the deal.  I know I take His name in vain every now and again, but He forgives me because I’m one of his blessed children.  You’re a heathen who shouldn’t even speak His name in reverence.  I don’t know why you would.  I mean, you’ve probably got a heathen god you worship, right?” Kilar wiped Latrib’s blood off one of his bear hides with his scarf, leaving behind streaky stains.  The splattered liquid’s deep red color blended in with the hue of the wool.  “Don't worry, though.  I’ll let it go this time, since you obviously just weren’t thinking.”

Latrib’s body stopped shaking.

Kilar walked away from him, going back to his cabin.  “Anyway, I think it’s a good idea to go ashore a bit early.  We’re all out of booze, and I definitely need to get some food in me.  You know you’re hungry when you wake up gnawing on your bedpost,” Kilar pushed against the dank wood that served as his cabin door.  Though it was four times the height of his small body, it opened with a series of creaks from just one of his hands.  He looked back at Latrib.  “What, are you still crying?  Don’t mind that kid.  I’ll find you a real nice gal so you can make a new one, no problem.”

Latrib got to his feet and faced Kilar.  His face was convulsing, and he seemed to be beyond his capacity of speaking.  He gave out a roar that almost knocked Kilar right off his feet.  Latrib tore the cabin door from its hinges and swatted the small man with it. 

The crushing blow propelled Kilar across the ship.  “Ow, fuck!”  He rolled back onto his feet.  A crackling sound came from Kilar’s neck as he twisted it into a lateral stretch.   A smile spread across his face.  “No word of warning, Latrib?  I think I might be a bad influence on you.”

The ship’s cook broke the crew’s silence.  “How dare you speak to the Captain like that after what you’ve done!”  The two fishermen who were sitting on the rail stepped in front of Tetslen’s fallen form, their fists shaking.  The cook swiveled a filet knife in his right hand, the smooth metal catching the shine of the sun.

Kilar’s feet pushed off the ground, and he leapt several feet into the air to land on top of the cabin’s roof.  The ship swayed to the left with the giants’ weight, all rallying against him.  His stomach lurched, and he covered his mouth with his hands.  “Oh, fuck.  I seriously can not take this anymore.”

A fishing pole whipped through the air, snapping in half when it landed inches away from Kilar’s retreating heels.  “After him!”  Latrib took up the charge.  The cook climbed on top of the roof, knife in the pelt around his waist, while the two fishermen ran to the other side of the cabins to cut Kilar off.  Latrib braced his hands on the planks of the roof and hauled himself up after the cook.  A loud blast came from beneath his right foot as soon as it came into contact with the red pebble lying on the roof.  He tumbled down to the deck, landing hard on his back.  A groan escaped Latrib’s throat when he failed to bring himself back to his feet.

“Captain!”  The cook peered over the edge of the roof.  “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, you idiot.  Look out!” Latrib pointed toward the cook’s head.

The cook’s head swirled around, looking for the danger.  He saw no one.  Reaching to his pelt for his knife, his fingers clasped empty air.  He choked back a failed breath as Kilar hacked into the cook’s throat with the knife while he stood on the giant’s shoulder.  The knife was as big as Kilar’s entire body, yet his firm grasp maneuvered it with ease.  He swung his stolen weapon into the cook’s neck two more times before the sharp iron lodged in the hard vertebrae.  Kilar jumped off the bleeding cook just before his body toppled over the edge of the roof and landed right on Latrib.

Latrib’s pain in his back doubled at the sudden jolt of added pressure, and he gasped for air.  The blood from the cook’s open wound seeped and spurted all over Latrib, and he turned his head away from the sight.  He attempted to lift the body off himself, but the cook’s weight wouldn’t be moved by his waning strength.  He saw Kilar squatting on the edge of the roof.

"I really tried to be a good son, Latrib,” Kilar said, his voice shaking.  “Is this how you treat your children?  By abandoning them?”  Kilar stood up on top of the roof.  His voice grew louder.  “On top of that, I hardly even said a word about your treachery against Rekanii, and this is the thanks I get?”  He looked Latrib in the eye, lowering his voice.  “Well, I’m done trying.  Done showing you the error of your ways.  It’s too late for diplomacy, now.  Now is the time to pass judgment.”  He opened his hand to reveal the glowing red rocks in his palm.

“Go to hell, you murdering son of a bitch!”  Summoning every ounce of strength he had left in his body, Latrib brought up a wave so mighty that it took out a large chunk of the ship when it came crashing down.  It swept Kilar out to sea, dragging him under the surface of the water.  Latrib cried out, wincing from the muscle spasms that occurred throughout his entire body.

“Captain Latrib, are you all right?” asked Merkavo as he and the bearded fisherman ran around the destroyed cabins.  He gasped when he saw the cook’s dead body lying on top of their incapacitated captain.

“Don’t worry about me.”  Latrib’s breath came in heaves.  He wrenched his arm to point in the direction of the water closest to the coast.  “Just make sure he’s dead.”

“Yes, sir!”  They both turned around to face the cliffs.  Their eyes scanned the water in every direction. 

“There he is,” the bearded fisherman said, pointing toward the rocks at the base of the cliffs.

“Where, Seslo?” Merkavo asked, following the line of his crewmate’s finger.  He spotted Kilar’s small form scrambling along the wet rocks.  His mouth spread into a smirk.  “Got him.”

Together, the two fishermen raised their arms to shoulder height.  They brought the torrents that followed down on Kilar’s head, the white water seeming to overtake him. 

“Did we get him?” Selso put the edge of his hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun.  He continued to scan the rocks for Kilar.  A fine mist settled on the surface of the ocean after the waters quieted.  The gentle tide pulled the shattered ship in the direction of the rocks, the helm left unmanned. 

Latrib exhaled a long and slow breath.  The cook’s body finally stopped twitching, and with Latrib’s calmed nerves, it was easier to roll out from underneath his former crewmate.  Blood pumped inside his low back as the injury started to swell, and he felt grateful that at least he wasn’t paralyzed.  He rested between the cook and Tetslen, still unable to get up.  He shut his eyes, listening to his two remaining crew members help each other keep a lookout. 

That’s when he heard the curt tap of rock against wood.

His eyes shot open.  Turning his head in the direction of the sound’s origin, his fears were realized.  Another pebble sailed past his crewmates to land on the ship, this time catching their attention. 

“Abandon ship!”  Latrib’s words came too late, and his voice was muffled by the deafening explosion.  The rocks spewed lava at breakneck speed, encasing the three giants before hardening to obsidian in a matter of seconds.  Latrib’s entire body was confined like a caterpillar in a cocoon with only his head and neck exposed, while it trapped Merkavo and Seslo to the floor up to their knees.  Latrib turned his head, the only mobile part of his body, to face the fishermen.  Although they pulled and hammered at their bonds, the shackles held.

Latrib’s voice came out strangled.  “You’ll have to destroy the ship to escape!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  With these weights, we’d sink to the bottom!”  Seslo attempted to break the deck as an alternative means of escape, but the lava spread across the floor so that any wood was out of his reach.

“Make a grab for the rocks.  It’s your only shot.”  Latrib tried to back his counter up with a commanding authority, but he felt as though all the air had been squeezed out of him. 

Merkavo’s eyes widened.  “Captain, you can’t expect us to leave you like this.”

“There’s no time, Merkavo.  We have to do it before he kills us all!”  Seslo called forth a wave taller than he was with the simple raise of his arms.  The obsidian began to glow a golden color, melting against his feet.  He screamed, and lost control of the wave as his body writhed.  Merkavo’s bonds began to glow as well, and the two of them sank down into the fires.  The smell of burning flesh attacked Latrib’s nostrils, and his eyes watered against the smoke.  He did not turn away. 

A mere moment passed before the only thing that remained of his two friends was their smoldering ashes, which quickly disintegrated from the heat.  He was so transfixed by the sight that when he saw Kilar climb onto the deck through his peripheral vision, he almost didn’t take note of it.  The sound of the hardened lava falling onto the floor below the deck became apparent.  The lava had melted most of the deck.  The cooled rocks, along with what remained of most of the floor, fell to the below-deck kitchen, banging against the skillets and iron pots.