He slashed at the half-blind beast, his sword of fire connecting repeatedly with the body of Leviathan. Sparks of flame leaped from the weapon’s contact with the monster’s scaled flesh, but to little avail. The scales were like armor, protecting the ancient threat against his attack. His angelic nature yowled with displeasure, and he attempted to push aside the overwhelming bloodlust so that he could rethink his course of action, but the ferocity was intoxicating, and he continued with his fevered assault upon the beast.
“Strike all you wish, little Nephilim,” it gurgled as sparks of flame danced into the air with each new blow upon its seemingly impenetrable scales. “It matters not to me.”
One of Leviathan’s multitude of limbs lashed out, wrapping around one of his legs. Before he could bring his blade down to sever the connection, the monster acted, whipping him back against the wall, with savage ferocity. His head and upper body struck the side of the cave wall and he felt himself grow numb from the impact.
“They have all thought themselves superior,” the monster continued, slapping him against the opposite side of the cave with equal savagery. “The righteous against the wicked—is there ever any doubt against the outcome?”
Leviathan then threw him upon the ground, and it took all the inner strength that he could muster not to slip away into unconsciousness. The inner angel struggled, but it, too, was fighting not to succumb to the ferocity of the attack.
Aaron heard the gigantic animal shift its mass closer—and then what sounded like the fall of heavy rain. He could not begin to discern the source of the sound until he felt the chitinous limbs of one of Leviathan’s spawn scurry across his outstretched hand. Its spidery children were crawling out from beneath their master’s scales to pour down upon him. Aaron could feel them moving across his back and legs and was filled with revulsion.
“They never could imagine the strength that I amassed,” the behemoth boasted. “Overconfidence has always been their downfall.”
Aaron felt it again attempting to intrude upon his mind and he blocked it, temporarily locking it behind the fortified fence that he had mentally erected to keep his newly awakened angelic nature isolated. He needed to think, to come up with a way to vanquish the monster before it had a chance to do the same to him, but time was of the essence.
Aaron picked himself up from the ground, the hissing spidery abominations clinging to his clothing, attempting to reach his mouth where they could crawl inside, making him docile enough so that their progenitor could consume him with the least amount of effort. He would have none of that; tearing them from his body by hand and spreading his wings, beating them furiously.
Leviathan loomed closer and opened its damaged eye to glare at him. The injured orb had begun to heal, but the reminder of his sword’s cut across it could still be seen.
“Nowhere for you to run, nowhere for you to hide,” cooed the beast. “Others far mightier than you have tried to destroy me—and look what has befallen them.”
Aaron’s glance shot to the severed digestive sacks. He could see that many still lay within the protective cocoons of oblivion, while others, he believed, were most likely dead, their life forces drained away by the nightmare before him.
Leviathan slithered closer, and Aaron gazed up into the monster’s flapping mouth, staring into its soft, pink gullet—and an idea began to coalesce.
His angelic nature had received its second wind, and surged forward eager to continue the struggle. Aaron gritted his teeth with exertion, placing a mental choke chain around the powerful force’s neck and drew it to him. The power of Heaven fought, wanting to ignite a sword of fire and again leap into the fray—wanting him to battle against the ancient evil from the primordial depths.
But that was not his plan, even though holding back was probably one of the most difficult things he had ever had to do. Aaron stifled screams of pain as the essence of his angelic nature fought against him to be released.
“Not yet,” Aaron whispered through gritted teeth, as the monster shambled closer to where he crouched. The beginnings of a heavenly blade sparked in his grasp, but he wished it away, turning his entire attention to the beast that now lorded over him.
“What shall the game be this time, Nephilim?” Leviathan asked, obviously expecting their conflict to resume.
Aaron shook his head, gazing up into the face of the horrific nightmare that was Leviathan. “No games,” he told the beast. He held up his empty hands to the behemoth, showing the monstrosity that they were empty of weapons. “I can’t fight you anymore.”
Leviathan laughed, a horrible, rumbling gurgle. “How sensible of you, Nephilim,” it said, tentacles squirming in the air with anticipation.
Aaron stood beneath the monster and spread his arms in a show of surrender. His body was still racked with pain as he tried to contain the furious forces that fought desperately to emerge and to defend itself; but he held it back, for it was not yet time.
“Take me,” he told the wormlike creature that had existed since the dawn of time.
And Leviathan entwined him in its clutches, pulling him up toward its hungry mouth. “I shall use your power well,” it said, staring at him with its cold, unblinking eyes, viscous saliva beginning to pour from its circular orifice to run down the length of its black, glistening body.
“Eat me,” Aaron shouted. “And I hope you choke!” he added as the muscular appendages shoved him into its gaping maw, and he was swallowed up whole.
The first thing that Aaron noticed was the unbelievable stench. It stank even worse on the inside. He recalled the putrid aroma of a single mouse that had died in the kitchen wall of the Stanley house, and how he had thought nothing could smell as bad.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
He would rather have been wearing the dead rodent around his neck as jewelry for the rest of his life than endure the overwhelming stench of Leviathan’s insides.
If it wasn’t for the thick lubricating fluids that flowed upon him as the muscular throat of the beast contracted, sending him down toward its stomachs, there was the chance that the aroma of the monster’s internal workings could very well have rendered him unconscious.
The excretions of Leviathan’s digestive system were beginning to have their effects upon him also. His skin burned, and he felt a wave of undeniable fatigue attempting to purge the fight from his spirit. Even the angelic presence became increasingly docile, and Aaron knew that it would soon be time to put his plan into effect.
The interior of the beast gurgled and spat as it moved his mass through a series of powerful, muscular spasms—down what Aaron believed to be its esophagus—on his way to one of the still remaining digestive sacks hanging from Leviathan’s body. It was getting difficult to breath, and he felt his eyes grow heavy. Aaron wrestled with the idea of taking a bit of a nap before continuing with his course of action, but thought better of it, remembering the fate of the angelic beings that had been food for the great evil.
Perversely enough, the trip down the monster’s gullet reminded him of one of those amusement park water slides as he attempted to bend his body in such a way that he could see where he was going. It was black as pitch within the monster’s stomach, and Aaron managed to summon a ball of fire and maintain it as he continued his twisting journey to the belly of the beast. Half of him wished he didn’t need the source of light, for the insides of a creature of chaos was not the most pleasant of places to see.