The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters Read Online Free Page B

piercing light sliced the air above his head. The knife he had just thrown moments ago impaled the trunk of a tree behind him, only the hilt was visible. The shadow rushed in leaving no time for Fuminari to retrieve the blade. Fuminari grabbed the shovel and launched his own attack. The two terrible forces collided in mid-air. There was a crack as the handle of the shovel snapped cleanly across the middle.
    The thing appeared human, but its form was massively distorted. Its back was hunched at an odd angle; its arms and legs were bent out of shape. Fuminari could not make out any more detail in the dim moonlight. It stood poised on two legs ready to fight. The pose was unconventional, not from any particular school of martial arts. It had naturally taken the stance after springing back from the airborne clash. Fuminari stood facing the creature at the center of the clearing. It was immense. Even though its back was half bent, it was almost the same height as Fuminari.
    Fuminari felt himself trembling. He had brought the shovel down hard, aiming for the thing’s head, but had no idea where it impacted. And not just that, the creature had accepted the blow and, at the same time, launched two powerful kicks. Fuminari had only barely managed to avoid them. He felt lucky. He had the advantage with the reach of the shovel, yet the beast’s legs had skimmed across his flank like a black hurricane covered with an ice-cold sweat. Fuminari was not afraid; he felt only a burning sense of joy. He had found an opponent that he would have to fight with all his might, all his energy. I will kill it, he thought. Whatever happens, I am going to kill this abomination. I have to kill it.
    He had an erection.
    He hurled the shovel’s handle at the creature. It dodged, leaving a slight opening for Fuminari to unleash a powerful roundhouse kick that connected hard. The power behind the kick would have been enough to instantly kill an untrained opponent, but the creature deflected it with unbelievable force, in the same moment sending a black mass hurtling toward Fuminari’s head: the thing’s fist. Fuminari raised both arms to block. To his terror, the blow knocked his upper body backward. The creature flowed gracefully into the air, the black outline of its body seemed to swell double its original size. Fuminari let himself fall back into the grass and flipped straight back to his feet. He had taken a shallow blow to the shoulder, but it had been enough to make it numb. The creature’s strength was unreal. It would be easier to go hand-to-hand with a bear. The creature let out an animal howl. It was no human sound. It was the sound of the gatekeeper hounds of Hades tearing free from their chains.
    The nightmarish battle commenced. During its course Fuminari became convinced his opponent was the devil itself. The creature did not slow, even when he landed a heavy blow to the body, its thickly knotted muscles casually absorbed the force of the attack. The creature did not use its fists as weapons, it used its nails. They lacerated Fuminari’s back and tore into his chest. If the creature gained decent purchase, its nails would easily claw out huge chunks of flesh. It had bottomless reserves of energy.
    There’s no fucking way I’m gonna let this thing kill me. Fuminari felt himself weakening; he bit down on his lips, marshaling his strength. He was covered in blood. His shirt was soaked red and torn to shreds.
    He went for its eyes. He was willing to sacrifice a leg in exchange for the eyes. He desperately searched for an opening. This was no hooligan’s squabble, a normal man would have lost his sanity by now. This was a fight to death against an outlandish monster, a relentless onslaught of intolerable physical and mental tension. It was enough that he was still conscious. The only thing that spurred him on now, barely, was the burning obsession he had developed with this monster.
    There would only be one chance and Fuminari was going to