Death Dealer
Death Dealer, a short storyWar is the pagan mask we wear—the Brotherhood of Arktos. By Bear J. Sleeman Author of BEAR MOUNTAIN: THE ALPINE CRUCIBLE
The wind screamed through the jagged peaks of Japan’s Great Northern Alps, a furious blizzard whipping across the slopes of Bear Mountain. Snow piled high in violent gusts, swirling like spirits of the damned. This place was no sanctuary—it was a brutal proving ground, and only the hardiest survived. Bear Mountain was home to a town carved from the bones of the ancient wilderness, a place few dared to tread. Those who did were either mad or driven by something far darker.
Bear stood at the edge of the timberline, his hulking frame cloaked in wolf pelts, his ice-blue eyes scanning the horizon. His beard was thick and wild, crusted with frost, and his muscles rippled beneath the weight of his fur-lined armor. A warrior forged in the fires of endless war, Bear was more than a man—he was a force of nature, the leader of the Brotherhood of Arktos. In his right hand, he gripped a massive axe, its blade stained with the blood of those who had fallen to its edge. His brothers stood beside him—Steve "Jugs," a towering berserker who could crush a man’s skull with his bare hands, Megumi, a silent but deadly hunter with eyes that missed nothing, and Paul, the strategist, the mind behind every assault.
The Brotherhood was the last bastion of true warriors in a world gone soft. They didn’t bow to kings, didn’t take orders from governments, and certainly didn’t tolerate the weak. They lived by one law: survive, and kill whatever tried to stop you.
And now, something had come to stop them.
Dr. Goldstein had slithered his way into Bear Mountain under the guise of a simple scientist—an emissary from the cities down below, tasked with "understanding the harsh climates." But Bear and his brothers had seen through his act. They’d known from the start that this "man" was more than he appeared. The Brotherhood had ancient eyes. They saw through lies, deception, and shadows.
Goldstein was no ordinary man. He was a vile creature, a shape-shifting monster that had lived for centuries, always hiding, always manipulating. His skin seemed to move beneath his clothes, his eyes glinting with a malice that couldn't be human. Rumors whispered that he had made deals with dark, unspeakable entities, that his true form was something far worse than anything that walked the earth.
The townsfolk had been his first victims. Slowly, one by one, they began to change. Men who had once been proud, strong lumberjacks, men who had drunk deep from the wild spirit of Bear Mountain, started turning into something else. Their skin paled, their eyes grew hollow, and their souls drained out of them. They became subservient, weak, spineless—like livestock ready for slaughter. The Brotherhood called them soy-boys, their humanity consumed by Goldstein’s foul magic.
Bear and his brothers watched it all with silent fury. They knew what was coming next. They’d seen it before. Goldstein’s work was almost complete—he’d planted his parasitic seeds inside the weak, turning them into obedient drones. The next step was the birth of the xenomorphs.
And that was when war would begin.
"We wait no longer," Bear growled, his voice like the grinding of mountains. "Goldstein is ready to release his xenomorphs. The time for blood is now."
Jugs cracked his massive knuckles, each pop like the sound of a tree snapping in a storm. "Good. Been too long since I’ve crushed something."
Megumi, ever the silent killer, simply nodded. Her eyes flicked to the treeline where shadows lurked, ready to pounce. She could sense them—Goldstein’s creatures, creeping ever closer.
Paul, the strategist, spoke calmly, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. "We’ll hit them hard. No mercy. These aren’t men anymore. They’re hosts, infected by the alien spawn Goldstein planted in them."
Bear raised his axe high, the blade gleaming in the dim light of the snowstorm. "We march. Tonight, we end this."
The Brotherhood moved through the snow like wraiths. The town of Bear Mountain lay ahead, its once-vibrant buildings now dark and twisted, the streets filled with the shuffling forms of Goldstein’s victims. From the shadows, a shape lunged—a face-hugger, its grotesque limbs spread wide, ready to latch onto Megumi. In a single, fluid motion, she drew her blade and sliced it clean in half, the creature's insides splattering across the white snow.
"They’re close," she whispered.
"Let them come," Jugs snarled, gripping his war hammer tighter.
As they entered the heart of the town, they found themselves surrounded. Dozens of men, or what used to be men, staggered out of the buildings, their skin stretched tight over their skeletal frames, their eyes lifeless. Behind them, Goldstein stood at the foot of the town’s ancient shrine, his form shifting and pulsating under the heavy coat he wore.
"Welcome, Bear," Goldstein hissed, his voice oily and serpentine. "You’re too late. My children are ready to be born."
Bear’s lips curled into a snarl. "The only thing that’s about to be born here is your death."
Goldstein laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Foolish barbarian. You think you can stop evolution? These xenomorphs will consume this world, and I will rule over the ashes!"
With a screech, the men around Goldstein began to convulse, their bodies splitting open as slimy, horrific creatures clawed their way out from within. Xenomorphs, their sleek black bodies dripping with bile, emerged from the carnage, their razor-sharp teeth gleaming.
The war began.
Jugs was the first to charge, his hammer swinging in brutal arcs, smashing through the twisted bodies of the newly born xenomorphs. Each hit sent blood and bone flying, but the creatures kept coming. Megumi danced through the chaos like a shadow, her twin blades slicing through flesh and tendon with surgical precision. Paul hung back, calling out commands, his mind a weapon as sharp as any sword.
Bear, meanwhile, waded into the thick of it, his axe carving a path through the horde. He was a force of nature, unstoppable, his rage feeding his strength. Every swing of his axe was a death sentence. Heads rolled, limbs flew, and the ground ran red with blood.
But for every xenomorph they killed, more seemed to crawl from the darkness. The air was thick with the stench of death, and the snow was stained black with the bile of the beasts.
Goldstein watched from his perch, a smug smile on his twisted face. "You can’t win, Bear! You’re just a man, a relic of a dying age!"
Bear’s eyes blazed with fury. "Man or beast, I’m the one who kills!"
With a roar that shook the mountains, Bear charged at Goldstein. The shape-shifter’s eyes widened as Bear closed the distance, his axe raised high. Goldstein’s body morphed and twisted, growing larger, more monstrous. He sprouted claws, his skin bubbling and stretching as he took on his true, hideous form.
But Bear didn’t falter. With a mighty swing, his axe cleaved through the abomination’s arm, sending it flying across the snow. Goldstein screamed, a sound so inhuman it sent chills down the spines of even the most hardened warriors.
"You think this is over?" Goldstein screeched, black blood pouring from his wound. "I’ll live forever, Bear! You can’t kill what’s eternal!"
Bear grinned, his teeth bared like a wolf’s. "Then I’ll keep killing you until there’s nothing left."
With one final, earth-shattering blow, Bear’s axe came down on Goldstein’s neck, severing his head from his body. The creature’s black blood sprayed across the snow, hissing as it melted the ground beneath it. Goldstein’s body writhed for a moment before collapsing in a heap, his vile life extinguished at last.
The remaining xenomorphs shrieked in agony, their connection to their master severed. One by one, they fell, lifeless, their twisted forms crumpling in the snow.
The battle was over.
The Brotherhood stood in the aftermath of the carnage, their weapons dripping with the blood of their enemies. The once-beautiful town of Bear Mountain was a ruin, its streets littered with the corpses of monsters.
Jugs wiped the blood from his hammer, his breath coming in heavy bursts. "That was fun," he grunted, a savage grin on his face.
Megumi sheathed her blades, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon for any lingering threats. "It’s done."
Paul approached Bear, his voice calm as always. "What now?"
Bear looked at the broken body of Dr. Goldstein, the snow around it blackened and melted. "We rebuild. But first, we burn this filth to the ground."
With that, Bear raised his axe one last time and buried it into the heart of Goldstein’s corpse. The creature’s body convulsed before bursting into flames, the foul stench of burning flesh filling the air.
The Brotherhood watched in silence as the flames consumed what remained of their enemy. The blizzard howled around them, but they stood tall, unbroken.
Bear turned to his brothers, his eyes fierce and unyielding. "This mountain is ours. And as long as we stand, no one—nothing—will take it from us."
Death Dealer
Part II
The flames engulfed Dr. Goldstein’s corpse, casting long, dancing shadows across the blood-streaked snow. The bitter wind tore through Bear Mountain, carrying the scent of charred flesh and gore. But it wasn’t enough. Bear’s icy blue eyes stared into the inferno with a savage intensity, the embers reflecting the primal bloodlust simmering beneath his skin. The battle had been won, but his thirst for vengeance was not yet sated.
"Burn it all," Bear growled, his voice carrying over the howling blizzard. "Every inch of this town. Purge it of the filth."
Jugs grinned, his hammer dripping with viscera. "Nothing like a good ol’ cleansing fire, eh?"
Bear didn’t respond, his mind already fixed on the next target. This wasn’t over. Goldstein was dead, but his spawn—those parasitic xenomorphs and their face-hugging abominations—still lurked in the deeper caverns of Bear Mountain. They had to be eradicated, every last one of them. No survivors.
Paul surveyed the carnage, his calculating mind working through the aftermath. "We’ll have to clear the caverns beneath the mountain. Goldstein’s spawn are festering there, waiting. We leave them, they’ll come back worse."
Bear nodded, gripping his blood-slicked axe tighter. "Then we go to the source. No more hiding. We drag every last xenomorph from their nests and slaughter them."
Megumi’s quiet voice sliced through the icy air. "They’ll be more dangerous in their lair."
"Good," Bear said, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. "I want them at their worst."
The trek to the caverns beneath Bear Mountain was a brutal gauntlet through the storm. Snow swirled like daggers in the wind, biting into their exposed skin, but the Brotherhood pressed on. Their breath came in great plumes of frost, but no one spoke. They didn’t need to. They all knew the bloodletting to come would require every ounce of their strength, and they welcomed it.
As they neared the cavern’s entrance, a great yawning mouth of jagged stone, a sickening stench hit them—rotting meat mixed with the acrid stench of xenomorph bile. Bear’s nostrils flared, his lips curling in disgust.
"Stay sharp," he muttered, his eyes scanning the darkness beyond. "They know we’re coming."
The cavern was an icy tomb, its walls slick with a black ooze that pulsed faintly, as if alive. The deeper they ventured, the louder the sound of skittering claws and wet, inhuman breaths echoed around them. The xenomorphs were waiting.
Jugs hefted his hammer, his breath coming in eager pants. "Let’s get this party started."
As if on cue, a dozen shapes lunged from the shadows. The creatures were larger now, more grotesque than the ones they had faced in the town—sinewy and long-limbed, their slick, black bodies bristling with spikes. Their jaws snapped open, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, dripping with acidic saliva.
Bear met the first of the beasts head-on, his axe slicing clean through its neck with a wet crunch. Black blood sprayed across his face, sizzling as it hit his skin, but he didn’t flinch. Another beast charged, and Bear swung his axe in a brutal arc, cleaving it from shoulder to groin. Its innards spilled across the cavern floor, a tangled mess of entrails and ichor.
Jugs let out a thunderous roar as he smashed his hammer into a creature’s chest, the impact sending it flying against the cavern wall in a spray of bones and gore. "Come on, you bastards! I ain’t even warmed up yet!"
Megumi moved like a wraith through the chaos, her twin blades flashing in the dim light. She was faster than the xenomorphs, her blades cutting through their limbs and throats with deadly precision. Blood splattered the walls, dripping down in thick rivulets as she dismembered her foes one by one.
Paul held back, his eyes constantly shifting, calculating the best moves. When a xenomorph lunged for him, he sidestepped, quick as a snake, and brought a blade up under its chin, driving the point deep into its skull. The beast spasmed violently before collapsing in a twitching heap.
But for every xenomorph they killed, more seemed to crawl from the darkness.
"Keep moving!" Bear bellowed, his axe cleaving through another xenomorph. "Push deeper into the nest!"
The Brotherhood hacked their way through the creatures, a storm of steel and fury, until they reached the heart of the cavern—a massive chamber, pulsing with a grotesque light. At its center lay the xenomorph hive, a writhing mass of slick, black eggs, pulsating with sickly yellow light.
"They’re breeding," Paul growled, his voice low with disgust. "We need to destroy it."
Bear’s eyes narrowed. "Burn it all. Leave nothing standing."
Jugs lit a torch, his grin widening as the flames caught. "Let’s see these bastards squirm."
But before they could set the hive ablaze, the ground shook violently, and from the far end of the chamber, something massive stirred. A deep, guttural growl echoed through the cavern, sending a shiver down even Bear’s spine.
From the shadows, the Queen emerged.
She was enormous, her body towering above the Brotherhood, her head crowned with jagged, spiked ridges. Her maw dripped with acidic saliva, and her massive tail whipped through the air with deadly speed. She let out an ear-splitting screech, her many eyes locking onto Bear with murderous intent.
"Well, fuck," Jugs muttered, his hammer at the ready. "That’s a big one."
Bear stepped forward, his axe gleaming in the dim light. "We end this. Now."
The Queen charged, her massive form crashing through the cavern like a battering ram. Bear met her head-on, his axe raised high, but her speed was unreal. She swiped at him with a clawed hand the size of a boulder, knocking him back into a wall with bone-shattering force.
Bear grunted, the pain burning through his ribs, but he was already back on his feet, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He was a warrior born, and no creature—no matter how monstrous—would break him.
Jugs let out a battle cry and rushed the Queen, swinging his hammer with all his might. The blow connected with her abdomen, sending a shockwave through her massive body, but she barely flinched. With a sickening crack, she swatted Jugs aside like a rag doll, sending him crashing into a pile of bones.
Megumi darted forward, her blades aimed for the Queen’s throat, but the creature was too fast. Her tail lashed out, catching Megumi across the chest, sending her flying backward in a spray of blood.
Paul flanked the Queen, slashing at her legs, but the Queen’s hide was thick, her movements too swift. She roared in fury, snapping at Paul with her jaws, barely missing him as he ducked and rolled away.
Bear shook off the pain, his fury growing with every breath. This beast wasn’t going to go down easy. But Bear was no stranger to impossible odds.
With a primal roar, he leaped onto the Queen’s back, driving his axe into her thick hide. She shrieked, thrashing violently, but Bear held on, dragging the blade deeper and deeper into her flesh. Black blood gushed from the wound, sizzling as it hit the cavern floor.
The Queen screeched again, her tail whipping wildly, trying to dislodge him. But Bear was relentless. He hacked at her with savage determination, each strike more brutal than the last. The Queen’s roars turned to gurgles as Bear’s axe found her throat, severing muscle and sinew in a gruesome display of raw power.
With one final, bone-shattering blow, Bear drove his axe through the Queen’s skull, splitting it in two. Her massive body convulsed, then collapsed, her black blood pooling around her lifeless form.
The cavern was silent, save for the sound of dripping blood and the crackling of flames as Jugs set fire to the hive. The Brotherhood stood among the carnage, their bodies battered and bloodied, but victorious.
Bear wiped the blood from his axe, his chest heaving with exhaustion. "It’s done."
Jugs limped over, a wicked grin on his face. "Now that was a good fight."
Megumi, bloodied but alive, sheathed her blades, her eyes sharp as ever. "It’s over."
Paul looked around the cavern, the flames rising higher as the hive burned. "For now."
Bear stared into the fire, his eyes cold and unyielding. "We’ll be ready for whatever comes next. We always are."
Death Dealer
Final Act
The flames licked at the cavern walls, casting flickering shadows that danced in the blood-drenched darkness. The air was thick with the stench of burning flesh, and the distant howl of the wind outside barely penetrated the oppressive silence. Bear stood over the shattered body of the Queen, his axe still lodged deep in her skull, the black blood seeping from the gaping wound at his feet. Around him, the broken corpses of xenomorphs littered the ground—twisted, mangled, and lifeless.
The Brotherhood of Arktos had won the battle, but victory tasted like ash. There was no celebration, no relief, only the cold realization that this was merely the beginning. The war hadn’t ended here, in this godforsaken cavern—it was only the prelude to a greater slaughter. Bear knew it, as did his brothers. The evil they had confronted in the form of Goldstein was a mere tendril of a deeper, darker force—a force that had been stirring beneath the surface of the world for centuries, waiting to rise.
Jugs staggered to his feet, his body covered in blood and grime, his hammer hanging limply at his side. "We killed the bitch," he muttered, his breath ragged. "So why does it feel like we just woke up something worse?"
Bear didn’t respond. His ice-blue eyes were fixed on the burning hive, watching as the flames consumed the last remnants of the creatures that had terrorized their town. But it wasn’t enough. The mountain felt wrong—too quiet, too still. As if the earth itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to tear through its skin.
Megumi wiped the blood from her lips, her sharp gaze scanning the darkness of the cavern. "This isn’t the end," she said, her voice hollow. "Something’s coming. I can feel it."
Paul, ever the strategist, stood at the mouth of the cavern, his eyes narrowed as he stared into the swirling blizzard outside. "We’ve barely scratched the surface. Goldstein was just a puppet. There’s something bigger pulling the strings—something worse than these creatures."
Bear’s grip tightened around the handle of his axe. "Let it come," he growled. "We’ll cut it down like we did the rest."
But even as he spoke the words, he felt the weight of a different truth gnawing at him from the inside. The world had already fallen. The cities beyond Bear Mountain—those cesspools of corruption, weakness, and decadence—they had already succumbed. Goldstein was just the first wave, and the Brotherhood had been isolated for too long to know the full scope of what had crawled its way into humanity’s bones.
As they stepped out of the cavern and into the howling blizzard, the icy wind biting at their skin, Bear felt the weight of the coming storm press down on him. It wasn’t just the cold—it was something far worse. The snow was no longer pure white; it was stained with streaks of black, dark veins running through it like blood poisoning the earth.
"What the hell is that?" Jugs muttered, pointing to the sky.
Above them, the storm clouds churned unnaturally, pulsing with sickly green light. Shapes moved within the storm—hulking, monstrous silhouettes that defied reason. The sky itself seemed to ripple, as if the atmosphere was being torn apart at the seams. The wind carried with it faint screams, distorted and inhuman, like the cries of something being born into the world.
Megumi’s eyes narrowed. "It’s spreading."
Bear’s jaw clenched, his breath coming in ragged bursts. "The infection… it’s everywhere."
The Brotherhood trudged back through the ruined streets of Bear Mountain, their town now a graveyard of broken bodies and abandoned homes. The once-proud village, carved from the bones of the wild, had become a twisted monument to the horrors that had been unleashed. The remaining townsfolk, the few who hadn’t been infected or slaughtered, huddled in the ruins, their eyes wide with fear and madness. There was no rebuilding this place. Bear knew that now.
As they reached the outskirts of town, the earth began to tremble. The ground split open with a violent crack, and from the fissures, dark, viscous liquid oozed out, steaming as it hit the snow. From the depths of the earth came a sound—a deep, throbbing hum, like the heartbeat of some monstrous, ancient god stirring from its slumber.
Jugs took a step back, his eyes wide. "What the fuck is that?"
Bear stared at the fissures, his heart pounding in his chest. "The mountain’s waking up."
Paul’s voice was grim. "This is what Goldstein was trying to awaken. It’s been buried here, festering for centuries."
And now it was free.
The ground buckled and heaved, and from the gaping chasms that opened in the earth, something began to crawl. Massive, grotesque limbs—black as tar, covered in jagged, bony protrusions—dragged themselves from the fissures, followed by twisted, serpentine bodies. These weren’t xenomorphs. These were ancient things, older than humanity itself, forgotten gods of chaos and destruction.
The Brotherhood stood in stunned silence as the first of the creatures pulled itself free of the earth. Its head was a nightmare of writhing tentacles and jagged teeth, its eyes glowing with malevolent intelligence. It let out a sound—a low, guttural roar that reverberated through the mountains, shaking the very ground beneath their feet.
Bear’s grip tightened on his axe, his breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts. "We fight," he growled, though there was a cold dread creeping into his voice now. This wasn’t a battle they could win. This was the end.
The creature lunged, moving with terrifying speed for something so massive. Bear swung his axe, but it barely made a dent in the creature’s thick hide. Jugs charged forward, his hammer crashing down on the creature’s legs, but it barely stumbled. Megumi moved in a blur, slashing at its exposed flesh, but the beast seemed impervious to their attacks.
Paul’s voice was desperate. "Fall back! We can’t stop this!"
But there was nowhere to run. More of the creatures were rising from the earth, their towering forms silhouetted against the storm-wracked sky. Bear Mountain was no longer a battleground—it was a slaughterhouse. And they were the prey.
Bear felt the ground tremble beneath his feet as the creature swung a massive limb toward him. He barely had time to react as it slammed into him, sending him crashing into the side of a ruined building. Pain shot through his body, but he pushed it aside, forcing himself to stand. Blood dripped from his mouth, and his vision blurred, but he wouldn’t give in. Not yet.
"We’re all that’s left," Bear growled, his voice hoarse. "We die here."
Jugs spat blood onto the snow, grinning through broken teeth. "Ain’t a bad way to go."
The Brotherhood stood together, surrounded by monsters older than time itself, their weapons dripping with the blood of lesser beasts. There was no escape, no salvation. The world had already ended, and they were the last flickering embers of a dying fire.
As the creatures closed in, Bear lifted his axe one last time, his eyes burning with defiance. "Let’s make them remember us."
The snowstorm raged like a feral beast, howling across the desolate remains of Bear Mountain. In the final moments before the creatures descended, everything seemed to slow. The ground trembled with each massive step, the air thick with the acrid stench of decay and something far worse—something ancient and unfathomable. The storm itself felt alive, swirling around the Brotherhood like a hungry predator waiting to pounce.
Bear’s heart pounded in his chest as the monstrous, titanic shapes closed in, their bodies blotting out what little light remained in the frozen wasteland. His axe was heavy in his grip, weighed down not just by the blood of the xenomorphs but by the crushing reality of their fate. This was not a battle they could win, not a fight they could walk away from. But in this final stand, there was no room for fear. Only rage.
Only blood.
Jugs was the first to make his move. His massive frame, battered and broken, surged forward with the last of his strength, the enormous hammer raised above his head. "COME GET SOME, YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!" His roar echoed through the storm, a defiant battle cry swallowed up by the rising cacophony of the beasts. The hammer connected with the nearest creature’s leg, shattering bone and sending it crashing to the ground with an earth-shaking thud. But the victory was fleeting.
A second later, the creature’s tail lashed out, striking Jugs in the chest with the force of a wrecking ball. His body flew through the air, a broken ragdoll of blood and bone, before crumpling in a heap far beyond the battle line. Jugs didn’t rise again.
Bear growled through clenched teeth, blood pounding in his ears. Another brother lost. The wind whipped his face, carrying with it the screams of the dying and the roars of the creatures as they tore through what remained of Bear Mountain. The town itself had become unrecognizable, swallowed whole by the apocalypse unfolding around them.
Megumi moved like a ghost through the chaos, her twin blades flashing in the storm. Her strikes were precise, cutting deep into the joints and weak points of the creatures, but it was a futile effort. For every blow she landed, for every limb she severed, the beasts continued their relentless advance, their wounds sealing almost as quickly as they were made. One of the creatures lunged at her, its grotesque maw gaping wide. She darted out of the way, but the beast’s massive claw caught her mid-step, tearing through her armor and sending her spinning into the snow, blood trailing in her wake.
Paul, always calculating, always thinking, fought with a cold efficiency. But even he, the mind of the Brotherhood, knew there was no strategy that could save them now. His strikes were methodical, designed to buy time—nothing more. As one of the creatures closed in on him, he ducked under its sweeping claw, driving his blade deep into its belly. But the creature merely roared, unfazed, and with a single swipe of its tail, sent Paul crashing into the side of a crumbling building. His limp form slid to the ground, disappearing beneath the snow.
Bear stood alone now, his brothers fallen, the town nothing more than a graveyard beneath the blizzard. The creatures circled him, their eyes glowing in the dim light, their breath hot and rancid. His vision blurred, blood trickling down his face from countless wounds, but he refused to fall. He would not give these monsters the satisfaction of seeing him break.
His hands tightened around the haft of his axe, his muscles trembling with exhaustion, but his eyes burned with defiance. This was the end. He knew it. The creatures knew it. But he would not die cowering.
With a final roar, Bear charged into the fray. His axe swung in wide, vicious arcs, cleaving through flesh and bone, the blood of his enemies mixing with his own. He felt his muscles scream in protest, felt the cold biting into his bones, but he kept going. He kept swinging. The creatures surrounded him, their bodies looming like mountains, their jaws snapping and claws tearing. But Bear didn’t stop. Even as their claws raked his flesh, even as their fangs sank into his skin, he fought on.
Blood pooled at his feet, soaking into the snow, turning the once-white landscape into a crimson nightmare. His vision faded, but his body moved on instinct, driven by nothing but pure, unrelenting rage. He felt the creatures closing in, felt their claws digging deeper, felt the life slipping away from him.
But as darkness crept in, as the world began to fade, Bear grinned. He had lived as a warrior. He would die as one.
In his final moments, as the creatures tore him apart, Bear’s mind drifted to the mountain. To the Brotherhood. To the battles they had fought, to the blood they had spilled. He thought of the world that had betrayed them, the world that had crumbled into madness and chaos. And as his body was consumed by the monstrous horde, Bear knew one thing for certain.
The war had always been lost.
And now, the world would burn.
The creatures swarmed over what was left of Bear, their grotesque forms writhing and pulsing in the storm. Above them, the sky split open, revealing the black void beyond. The earth trembled, and from the chasms beneath Bear Mountain, more creatures began to crawl—an endless tide of darkness and death, spilling forth to consume the world.
The Brotherhood of Arktos was gone, their blood soaking the frozen earth, their weapons scattered among the ruins. But their legacy—their defiance, their rage—would echo in the screams of the dying for generations to come. The world had fallen, and in its place, only chaos remained. The creatures would devour everything, leaving nothing but ash and bones in their wake.
And in the end, the mountain would stand as a monument to their slaughter, a tombstone carved from ice and stone.
A death dealer’s final resting place, in a world that had never deserved to live.
The storm raged on was the soul monitor of their ebbing existence.
Bear J. Sleeman ©
