The Darkness Within (Demon Elite Death Squad #1)

BLADE 8

Rayne slept fitfully, her breathing uneven even as she lay curled up on the bed, her face still streaked with the tears she had cried through the night. Blade watched over her for a long time, his heart aching with a mix of helplessness and anger. He had tried to comfort her, to hold her as she broke down, but he knew there were wounds that even he couldn’t heal. The memory of her sobs, of the way she had clung to him in desperation, gnawed at him, fuelling the rage simmering beneath his skin.

Finally, he slips out of the room, careful not to disturb her. He needs to release the fury building inside him, to feel the burn of his muscles and the ache of physical exhaustion. It was the only way he knew to keep his emotions from boiling over. He made his way down the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps silent as he headed toward the gym on the far side of the building.

The gym was empty, a cold, stark space filled with rows of equipment and training mats. Blade barely noticed as he moved to the nearest punching bag, his hands clenching into fists. He didn’t bother wrapping his hands, didn’t care about the sting of the impact as he began to strike, each punch a release of the anger that seethed within him. His fists flew faster and harder, the bag swinging wildly under the force of his blows.

He could feel his demon side slipping to the surface, the darkness he usually kept in check pushing its way out as his vision blurred and his thoughts spiralled into chaos. His eyes shifted to pitch black, the pupils dilating as the demon within him took control, feeding off his rage. With a low growl, he lashes out, the force of his blows intensifying, the air around him crackling with a faint, dark energy that seems to pulse in time with his heartbeat.

He doesn’t hear Scar enter the gym until he feels a hand on his shoulder, steadying him, pulling him back from the edge. Blade pauses, his chest heaving, his body tense with unspent energy. He turns to find Scar standing beside him, his expression a mixture of understanding and concern.

“Easy, brother,” Scar warns, his voice calm and steady. “You’re going to break that bag if you keep going like that.”

Blade lets out a shaky breath, the fury still simmering beneath the surface but momentarily held in check by Scar’s presence. “I should have stopped him. I should have protected her. I can’t stand seeing Rayne like this.”

Scar nods, his gaze steady. “We all feel it, Blade. But you can’t carry it alone. Rake is the one responsible, and he’ll pay for what he’s done. We’ll make sure of it.”

Blade clenches his fists, his jaw tightening as he fights to control the darkness that surges within him. “I just feel... useless. I can’t take her pain away, and every time I see her, it’s like a reminder of how much I failed her.”

Scar squeezes his shoulder, his grip firm. “You didn’t fail her. You’re here for her, doing everything you can. That’s what matters. And we’re all in this together. We’re going to find Rake, and we’re going to make him regret ever coming after us.”

Blade nods, the anger still simmering but tempered by Scar’s words. He knows that Scar is right, knows that he can’t let his emotions cloud his judgment. He has a duty to Rayne, to his brothers, and to himself. And he will see it through, no matter what it takes.

Blade steps back, taking a deep breath as he allows his demon powers to settle, the dark energy fading from his vision. He can feel the strength it gave him, the surge of power that coursed through his veins, but he knew better than to let it consume him. He needed control, precision, and he knew he could only find that through calm focus.

Scar moves toward the training mats, motioning for Blade to join him. “Come on. Let’s spar. You need to work off some of that energy before you break something.”

Blade smirks, nodding as he joins Scar on the mat. They circle each other, their movements measured, their stances low and ready. Blade allows a hint of his demon power to flow through him, feeling the surge of strength that makes his movements quicker, more agile. He launches into a series of attacks, each strike calculated, his body a blur of motion as he presses Scar, testing his friend’s defences.

Scar responds in kind, his own movements precise and deadly, a reflection of the years they had spent training together. They move as one, a dance of strength and skill, each one pushing the other, their breaths coming hard and fast as they spare. Blade can feel the tension easing, the anger fading as he loses himself in the rhythm of the fight, each strike a release, each block a reminder of the control he fought so hard to maintain.

When they finally stop, both of them breathing heavily, Scar nods in approval. “Better?”

Blade manages a small smile, the fury tempered by the familiar burn of exertion. “Better. Thanks, Scar.”

“Anytime,” Scar replies, clapping him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s get back to the others. We’ve got a lot of planning to do.”

Back in the war room, the rest of the Elite have gathered, their faces grim and focused as they wait for Blade and Scar to join them. The map of the city is spread out on the table, marked with pins and annotations that track Rake’s movements. Gage is standing at the head of the table, his gaze sharp as he addresses the team.

“We’re not letting him get away this time,” Gage warns, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ve pinpointed his location to an abandoned estate on the outskirts of the city. He’s been using it as a base, and our intel suggests he’s planning something big.”

Talon leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “The estate is surrounded by old wards, but they’re weak. We should be able to get through without much trouble, but we’ll need to be fast. He’ll have it fortified.”

Reed nods, his expression steely. “We go in hard and fast. No more games. We take him down, and we make sure he can’t hurt anyone else.”

Blade felt a surge of determination, his fists clenching as he imagined the final confrontation with Rake. “I want him alive, if possible,” he says, his voice cold and controlled. “I want him to answer for what he’s done.”

The others agree, their expressions fierce as they prepare for the battle ahead. They had all suffered at Rake’s hands, had all felt the weight of his darkness pressing down on them. But now, they were ready to strike back, to put an end to his reign of terror once and for all.

“We’ll split into teams,” Gage continues, his voice steady as he outlines the plan. “Blade and Scar, you’ll lead the main assault. Reed, Soren, you’re with me on the east flank. Talon and Kade, you’ll take the rear, covering our exit and making sure Rake has nowhere to run.”

The plan was clear, each man nodding as he took in his role, the familiar rhythm of preparation easing the tension that had settled over them. They were ready, united in their purpose, their bond strengthened by the losses they had faced and the vengeance they sought.

As they move to gather their gear, Fynn approaches Blade, his expression filled with quiet determination. “We’ll keep Rayne safe here. I’ll set up additional wards around the building, and Gage has agreed to leave a few of our allies to watch over her. You can focus on the fight, knowing she’ll be protected.”

Blade nods, gratitude softening his gaze as he looks at his friend. “Thank you, Fynn. I couldn’t do this if I didn’t know she was safe.”

Fynn clasps his shoulder, his grip reassuring. “We’re family, Blade. We take care of our own.”

As the team gather their weapons and prepare to head out, Blade takes a moment to look around at his brothers, the men who have stood by his side through countless battles, who have fought and bled with him, who have become his family. He felt a surge of pride, of gratitude, knowing that he isn’t alone in this, that they will face whatever came together.

Scar claps him on the back, his grin fierce. “Ready to show Rake what happens when he messes with us?”

Blade’s eyes darken, the familiar pulse of his demon power thrumming through him as he prepares for the fight. “More than ready.”

They move as one, their steps steady, their resolve unshakable, as they make their way into the night, ready to confront the darkness that awaits them. This was more than just a mission—it was a reckoning. And Blade knew that they would not rest until they had brought Rake to justice, until they had avenged Rita’s death and secured a future free from the shadows that had haunted them.

As they approach the estate, Blade feels the familiar rush of adrenaline, the sense of purpose that fills him every time he goes into battle. But this time, there is something more—a fierce determination, a burning need to protect the woman he loves, to make sure that she will never have to face the pain of loss again.

The final confrontation is near, and Blade knew that he would do whatever it took to end this, to ensure that he and Rayne could finally find peace. Together, they would face whatever came next, ready to fight, to protect, and to avenge. And as the team moved into position, Blade felt the weight of their shared purpose, the strength of their bond, carrying him forward into the darkness, ready to confront whatever lay ahead.

The night was unnaturally still as Blade and the Elite approach the abandoned estate, their steps soundless as they moved through the shadows. The building looms before them, a skeletal silhouette against the sky, its once-grand walls now cracked and crumbling under the weight of time. But there is something else, too—a sense of foreboding, a dark energy that seems to pulse from the very stones, as if the estate itself were alive and watching, waiting.

Gage took point, his hand raised in a silent signal for the others to stop. He kneels, his sharp gaze sweeping over the grounds, taking in every detail, every potential threat. Talon moves to his right, his steps light and sure, while Kade positions himself at the rear, his watchful eyes scanning their surroundings. Blade felt the familiar tension in his muscles, the steady hum of adrenaline that courses through him as they prepare to enter the lion’s den.

The entrance to the estate is blocked by an ancient iron gate, its bars twisted and rusted, as if warped by some malevolent force. Scar inclines his head toward Blade, stepping forward and gripping the gate with both hands. With a surge of strength, he pulls it open, the metal groaning in protest as the Elite slip through, one by one, their bodies merging with the darkness that shrouds the grounds.

They move silently, their eyes sharp, their senses on high alert. Blade could feel the weight of the night pressing down on them, the air thick with the scent of decay and something else—something darker, colder. It is a familiar feeling, one he had come to recognize as the presence of dark magic, the kind that twists and corrupts everything it touches.

As they approach the main building, Reed holds up a hand, motioning to a faint glow emanating from one of the windows. “He’s here,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath. “I can feel it.”

Blade nods, his jaw tightening as he feels the pulse of dark energy growing stronger, resonating through the ground beneath their feet. He reaches out, letting his demon senses expand, searching for any sign of movement, any hint of a trap. He can sense Rake’s presence, a dark and twisted force that lingers just out of reach, taunting him, daring him to come closer.

They slip through the main doors, their weapons drawn, their movements silent as they navigate the labyrinthine halls. The walls are lined with tattered portraits and faded tapestries, relics of a time long past, but now they seem twisted, almost alive, their empty eyes watching as the Elite move through the shadows. Blade’s heart pounds in his chest, each step a reminder of the danger that lay ahead, of the lives that hung in the balance.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement catches his eye, he holds up a hand, signalling for the others to stop. They freeze, their bodies tense, their eyes scanning the darkness. Blade can feel it—Rake is close, closer than he had expected, his presence a dark, suffocating force that seems to press in from all sides.

Without warning, the air around them crackles, a bolt of dark energy shot out from the shadows, barely missing Gage as he dodges to the side. The attack is followed by a low, mocking laugh, a sound that echoes through the halls, sending a chill down Blade’s spine.

“Welcome, Elite,” Rake’s voice drawls, dripping with malice. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Blade tightens his grip on his weapon, his eyes narrowing as he scans the room, searching for the source of the voice. “Come out and face us, Rake,” he growls, his voice low and deadly. “Or are you too afraid to fight us head-on?”

The shadows shift, Rake steps into the dim light, his face twisted into a cruel smile. He is taller than Blade remembers, his form wrapped in a cloak of darkness that seems to writhe and twist around him like a living thing. His eyes gleam with a sickly, unnatural light, and the symbols carved into his skin pulse with dark energy, as if feeding off the hatred that radiates from him.

“Afraid?” Rake sneers, spreading his arms wide. “I have no reason to fear you. You’re the ones who walked into my trap.”

With a flick of his wrist, Rake sends another wave of dark energy toward them, the force of it slamming into Scar and knocking him back against the wall. Blade and the others barely have time to react as Rake advances, his movements fluid and predatory, his power radiating in waves that seems to distort the very air around them.

Blade launches himself at Rake, his weapon slicing through the air as he moves with deadly precision. Rake meets his attack with a twisted grin, parrying with a blade of his own, their weapons clashing with a force that reverberates through the room. Sparks fly as they fight, each strike a test of strength and will, the fury between them palpable, a raw, electric tension that fills the space between them.

Scar recovers quickly, joining Blade as they press the attack, their movements synchronized, each one anticipating the other’s next move. Reed and Soren flank Rake from either side, their weapons cutting through the darkness, their faces set with grim determination. But Rake is fast, his body shifting and contorting as he dodges and counters, his laughter echoing through the hall as he evades their attacks with a grace that borders on inhuman.

“You’re all fools,” Rake taunts, his voice a sinister whisper that seems to fill the room. “You can’t stop me. You never could.”

Talon and Kade move in from behind, their weapons flashing as they close in, but Rake twists away, a bolt of dark energy shooting from his hand and striking Talon in the chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. Blade felt a surge of rage, his vision narrowing as he watched his friend fall, but he forced himself to stay focused, to push forward, his every sense trained on Rake.

The air crackles with power, the room fills with the clash of metal and the hiss of dark magic as the battle rages on. Blade could feel his demon side rising to the surface, the darkness within him surging as he fights, each strike fuelled by the memory of Rita’s death, by the pain in Rayne’s eyes, by the promise he had made to protect her.

He could see the strain on Rake’s face, the flicker of fear that passes over his features as the Elite press him back, their movements coordinated, their resolve unbreakable. But Rake is relentless, his attacks wild and frenzied, a desperate attempt to escape the net they had woven around him.

Gage moves in, his blade slicing through the darkness as he closes in on Rake, his face set with a grim determination. “This ends now, Rake,” he says, his voice cold and unyielding.

But Rake only laughs, his eyes gleaming with a dark, twisted light. “You think you’ve won? You’ve only just begun to understand the depths of my power.”

With a final, furious surge, Rake raises his arms, the air around him warping as a wave of dark energy explodes outward, forcing the Elite to stagger back, momentarily disoriented. Blade felt the shockwave hit him like a physical blow, knocking him off balance, but he steadies himself, his gaze locked on Rake as he prepares to attack again.

But Rake is already moving, his form dissolving into shadow, slipping through their grasp with a fluidity that seems almost impossible. Blade lunges forward, his hand outstretched, but it is too late. Rake’s laughter echoes through the room as his shadowy form slips through the walls, disappearing into the darkness beyond.

Blade stands frozen, his chest heaving, his fists clenched as the realization sets in—Rake had escaped, slipping through their fingers like smoke. He felt a surge of frustration, his anger boiling over as he turns to face his brothers, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief.

“We almost had him,” Reed mutters, his voice filled with frustration. “He was right there.”

Scar places a hand on Blade’s shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. “We’ll get him next time. He can’t run forever.”

Blade grunts, his expression grim as he takes in the faces of his brothers, their eyes filled with the same determination, the same unbreakable resolve that drove him forward. They had come so close, had fought with everything they had, but the battle was far from over.

Together, they made their way back through the estate, their steps heavy but resolute, their minds already turning to the next encounter, the next chance to bring Rake to justice. Blade knew they would face him again, and when they did, they would be ready. This wasn’t the end—it was only the beginning of the final chapter in their long and bloody battle.

And as they step out into the night, Blade feels a renewed sense of purpose, a fierce determination to see this through to the end. He would protect Rayne, avenge Rita, and bring Rake to justice, no matter what it took. The Elite would stand together, united in their mission, ready to face the darkness and whatever lay beyond.