Finally, I got past that awkward writers block! Now I can start writing this in full flow once again. Enjoy this part. Also, I just found out that the title of this chapter is also the name of a Halo 3 soundtrack. Awesome. [b] Part Eight - To kill a Demon[/b] "Ahkrin, take Sorran and flee! I will deal with these beasts, and meet you soon!" Zharn shouted over the deafening sirens. The Stealth Sangheili turned, Sorran slung over his back. "Zharn, take my blade. You shall need it." Ahkrin replied, tossing the hilt of the holy weapon to his friend with his free hand. Zharn thought for a second about protesting, and then realised how ridiculous his argument would seem in light of the circumstances. "Thank you, my dear friend. Now go, quickly!" Zharn cried back, igniting the burning blade. The angelic glow instantly cut through the darkness of the night, and Zharn felt that the Gods themselves were with him. Ahkrin nodded, and fled out of the compound. [i]Gods speed[/i], Zharn thought. He didn't have much time to think though, for at that moment two dogs jumped into the clearing. Dogs. Not to be underestimated; these ones were large indeed. Zharn had read that the humans named them 'German Shepherds.' They were indeed fearsome, and the bane of any Unggoy and Kig-Yar squad. The animals had been trained not to baulk at the sight of a Sangheili, it would seem, as they pressed forward, growling. Zharn backed up, trying to placate the dogs slowly with his hands in a calming manner. It didn't work. The dogs must have been trained to recognise an Alien when it saw one, for at that moment, the first one jumped at Zharn, taking him by surprise. It pounced on his chest, and was surprisingly heavy, knocking the Elite off balance to the ground. The German Shepard bared it's teeth, and made a lunge for Zharn's neck. His shields may have held, but then again, he'd heard some wild stories about Sangheili being slaughtered on the rare occasion that a dog's bite managed to penetrate. Luckily, he would not have to find out if those rumours were true, for as the dog lunged, he managed to bring his arms up, and grab the animal's powerful head. It yelped in surprise, and Zharn felt momentary pity for the creature. Still, it was a danger to him, and so closing his eyes, Zharn crunched his elbows together, smashing the dog's neck. It fell to the ground in a bloody, limp mess. Zharn scrambled to his feet, and growled at the other dog, who instantly fled in fear. The Sangheili gasped for breath, leaning against a brick wall. His respite didn't last long though, for a moment later he heard human voices. "Cowardly mutt, nearly knocked me over." "Stay sharp, whatever attacked the base is probably still around here." "Roger Lieutenant." Zharn pressed his body against the building, staying in the shadows. His camouflage was still faulty, curse Ahkrin's jamming contraptions! He would have to rely upon traditional tactics to evade the humans. Zharn could, of course, kill them, but he was painfully aware his shields were also weakened. The Elite Major breathed shallowly, wishing his armour was darker. Four humans then rounded the corner, gesturing around with their rifles. One indicated for them to hold and search with his right hand. Zharn peered closely at the humans assembled, and nearly fainted there and then. Clad in green, tank like armour was the Demon, a human shotgun in hand. It really was, as the Covenant claimed, the spawn of the devil. Smaller than Zharn, but there was no hope in the Elite's mind he could best it. Could he not? Then came the chilling words of the human Lieutenant. "Spartan, search behind that wall." "Affirmative." replied the Demon coldly. There was no emotion in that voice. Zharn began to hyperventilate, and felt his eyes go wide. He clutched one of his beating hearts as the so called Spartan drew closer to his hiding spot. There was no alternative; he would have to fight. Zharn braced his powerful legs against the brick wall he cowered behind, and soon enough, heard the harsh breaths of the Demon on the other side of the wall. The Elite took a deep breath, and heaved against the seven foot tall wall with all his might. It crumbled, and collapsed. He heard a gasp of pain and surprise from the other side, and leapt over the rubble, drawing out his loaned Energy Sword. As he leapt, he saw the Demon collapsed under the mound of brick and mortar. Thank the Gods, it wasn't moving. By the grace of the ancients, Zharn had managed to knock it unconscious. The other, normal humans had turned around, startled, and terrified of the raging Sangheili about the descend upon them. They tried to run, firing shots of their primitive weapons behind them. "Crap! He's downed the Spartan!" a marine cried, terror on his face. He was the first to be speared by Zharn, the burning blade blistering the heart of the man as it plunged inside the vital organ. How impractical that humans had but one heart. "Please! Don't kill us! I've got a family, I don't want to fight! I was drafted, please! Mercy!" another marine begged after seeing his friend killed, and dropped to his knees. "Traitor! Fight the bastard, maggot!" the human Lieutenant growled at the man, ignoring the Sangheili before him. The Lieutenant, therefore, didn't notice Zharn draw out a needler pistol, and wasn't able to dodge before three crystalline rounds impacted. The man collapsed, all signs of life gone from his eyes. The marine on the ground was still grovelling before the Elite, who looked down thoughtfully. The man seemed to be young, even by human standards. And he had been drafted, like Sorran had been. Zharn felt a twitch in his stomach, and realised he felt sorry for the human. This was ridiculous! Still, a wise warrior did not kill without need, that was the folly of a murderer. "Very well human, I shall let you survive. But deliver your commanders a message, and let them know that any human savage who takes a Sangheili into custody shall be killed. Tell your commander that [i]his[/i] days, are numbered." Zharn instructed, and the marine nodded gratefully. The Elite scowled, and rapped the man on the base of the neck with the back of his hand. The marine collapsed, out cold. Mercy was no useful trait in a war such as this. But occasionally, practicality had to be done away with, to preserve honour, and self respect. The Demon, however, needed to be killed. He was too much of a threat to live; each one could kill legions of Covenant. And so Zharn holstered the needler, and marched towards the pile of shattered brick, under which lay the Demon in his exoskeleton. It's head was the only thing not buried under the wall, and Zharn felt a chill as he beheld the mirrored visor of the Spartan. How many of the Covenant had that golden faceplate seen fall at it's wearers hands? Too many, Zharn wagered. It would end now, with the Sangheili's sword. Suddenly, the helmet of the Demon twitched. Did it? Was it a trick of Zharn's mind? Impossible, the Demon was motionless, there was no way it could still be concious after having a wall collapse upon it at that velocity. Zharn grimaced, and prepared to bring the blade down upon the Spartan's head. Perhaps he would take the severed head as a trophy. Or maybe he'd just take the helmet, they weren't so putrid. Before he could cut an arc though, a hand shot out of the rubble, and grabbed Zharn's wrist, twisting it. "Impossible!" Zharn cried out in fear, trying to pull free of the titan grip. It was of no avail, he was held fast. The rubble shook, and parted as the Demon rose out of the rubble, the embodiment of terror. "Now; I'm pissed off." the Demon spoke angrily, delivering a punch to Zharn's gut. The Elite doubled over in pain, and felt adrenalin rush through him. He hadn't come this far to be bested by some nefarious barbarian. "The same can be said for me Demon." Zharn gasped, and then he charged the Spartan head on, throwing his weight against that of his foe. The Demon seemed surprise, and didn't raise his hands to defend in time. It fell to the ground under Zharn, and gave out a cry of pain as it hit the concrete floor. [Edited on 09.28.2009 6:30 AM PDT]