3rd July Flasher - Irresistible Force by Steve

Blood lapped over his ankles and the moaning of the near-dead and death-craving echoed around the Chamber of Lindley Goff.
Xeganethar raised his dripping axe above his head and roared.
“Tis mine! The kingdom is conquered! The Orb of Zexon lies defenceless before me!”
His troop of dark minions bellowed their approval.
“Seven long years we have fought, through desert and swamp, through jungle and mountain, through fire and ice. Now, with the help of the mighty Kotar,” the axe flashed streams of gold to all points of the chamber, “and by the strength of our arms and the purity of our hearts, we have defeated the forces of evil. Zexon is ours!”
The cheer rocked the chamber. Even the glowing Orb in its platinum and were-metal cradle rattled with the force. Xeganethar waved his arm and advanced along the ancient stone bridge that led to the heart of the chamber and the Orb itself.
“Forward men! Forward friends! It is time to claim our reward. Tonight we feast!”
The dark minions cheered once more. They pounded forward, laughing and shrieking as they skidded on the gory remains of Prince Cardoff’s army. Here and there, sharp steel sliced groaning heads from twitching torsos, and a happier note filled the air.
Xeganethar had the Orb nearly within his grasp when a strange ticking sound attracted his attention. He halted abruptly, then raised his hand. His troops stopped in silence. Years of experience had conditioned them to obey without thinking. They dropped into wary stances, weapons unsheathed, and scanned their surrounding.
The noise came again.
“Tt, tt, tt, tt.”
Xeganethar’s great leonine head swung from side to side.
“Who dare enter this place? Reveal yourself or feel the force of Kotar!”
“Ha! Dim as ever, Xeganethar! If I don’t reveal myself, how are you ever going to cut me with your stupid little chopper?”
Xeganethar’s face purpled. “Ravay!” he screamed, “You filthy traitor! I thought I’d buried you for ever in the Slough of Dissemination!”
A pale figure in a purple robe and clutching a long staff slid from the shadows. Light flashed off dark eyes, but no smile filled his lips.
“Of course you did, simpleton. That’s what I wanted you to think. How else could I have been sure you’d clear the way to the Orb? With me around, persecution was the only thing on your mind.”
Behind Xeganethar, the troops began to mutter. He stilled them with another wave of his hand.
“I have never persecuted you. Your iniquitous deeds and foul dabblings brought your own downfall. You are the spawn of the devil himself and a blight upon the good name of our family. Now get out of my way. I have come to claim my rightful inheritance.”
“Oh, pish and tush. Always the heavy-handed arrogant. You don’t really think I came all this way just to make polite conversation, do you? No. I’ve come for the Orb. You have simply been my instrument, my tool in this quest. Now be off with you.”
Xenagethar slammed a foot to the ground. The ancient stones shook under the power of his mighty thews.
“Don’t play with me Ravay,” he cried, “the Orb is mine and there’s nothing you can do to stop me taking it. Forward, men!”
“Oh, no? We’ll see about that. Uh, men? Forward too, if you would be so kind.”
From the shadows behind Ravay, swarms of strange beasts, half man, half lizard, slithered to meet the forces of Xenagethar. In no time the Chamber of Lindley Goff echoed with the shouts and screams of battle once again as the fight raged around the septum of the Orb. At its centre, the figures of Xenagethar and Ravay faced each other, the power of the mythical axe Kotar offset perfectly by the bolts of raw force from Ravay’s staff; The Lady of The Mountains.
In less than the time a dragon takes to lay an egg, the two armies had reduced themselves to nothing. Only their leaders stood in the gore, panting from the exhaustion of battle.
“So,” Ravay said, “it’s just us then. Like the old days in the playground.”
“I beat you then, and I’ll beat you again.” Xenagethar roared in reply.
“Yes, you always were the gentlest of brothers. I so looked up to you.” Ravay’s small mouth twisted in a sneer, “Only I’m not so sickly now. Years of training at the Mage academy have prepared me for this very moment. My magic will defeat your brute force any time! Wake up, brother, it’s time to die.”
“Words mean nothing. Now you’ll taste the edge of my metal and regret you were ever of this world.” Xenagether lifted Kotar in both hands, summoning all his strength for a final blow as Ravay stepped forward, the Lady of The Mountains extended before him.
A delicate waft of jasmine filled the air and both brothers took a step back, heads darting in all directions.
“Oh, boys, boys. Will you never learn?” The voice sounded like eels sliding over and round each other in a barrel.
“Misteen?” The men said together. They turned and strained to see, peering into the shadows on all sides. Nothing.
They turned back. A figure stood before them; a preternaturally tall snake of a woman dressed in a red satin, ankle-length sheath with buttons down the front. Long black hair fell over her face, barely concealing sparkling blue and pouting red concupiscence. The Orb of Zexon nestled like a baby kitten in her hands.
“Boys,” she repeated, and laughed a high tinkling laugh that turned into a throaty growl, “you do make me laugh! All that huff and puff for nothing. When will it sink in? The Orb is mine. And when I want something, there is only one power in the world that counts for anything. It’s not physical strength nor magical prowess. It’s . . .”
Her smile spread as she began slowly to unbutton the front of her dress.
Xenagethar’s world wobbled and pulsed. He swayed and shook his head. A fizzing noise filled the air, followed by a pop, and everything turned black.
***
“Oh, crap!” Marty threw a sneaker at the screen and tossed the controller across the room. “This thing’s the pits.”
He gave the machine one more kick for luck, then yelled over his shoulder.
“Hey! Mom! I want a new Playstation for my birthday! This one’s totally bogus. It just crashed AGAIN.”
He listened for a moment.
“Yeah, I know, but it’s only three weeks away. I’m almost fourteen. What else am I supposed to do?”
A strong smell of jasmine surprized his nostrils. Something soft touched the back of his neck.
“Oh, you silly, silly boy,” a husky voice said.