Kapitel 57: Journals

Footsteps echoed through the hall. The seemingly innocuous pitter-patter crept closer and closer to the door Emile was hiding behind.

The light that protruded beneath the door faded and two dark spots took their place, but then they moved by and the sound of steps dissipated. Breathing a sigh of relief, Emile slid down the wall and slowed his sporadic heartbeat.

Emile grabbed one of the journals near him and flipped it open.

'Chapter One'

'What is Essence?'

'By Madame Mercy'

Emile skimmed a few pages of the journal, naturally interested in the phenomenon known as "essence." He grabbed another journal and similarly opened it.

'How to Convert Natural Essence Into a Usable Medium'

'Isn't that the Language of the Gods?'

Emile's interest piqued at the title so he flipped to the first page and began.

"Natural essence is, by all intended purposes, the makeup of reality itself. It is the component that comes together like pieces to form our universe; this includes planets, people, beasts, plants, all things are made of essence.

If that were true, however, why aren't Chosen, the individuals granted with the gift to manipulate essence, able to tap into this limitless natural essence? And if they are able to, how exactly can that feat be accomplished? This is the topic for this course and I highly recommend you master all of this material."

'Course?'

'Is this a script for her class?!'

Emile grabbed journal after journal and opened all of their table of contents. He read through the chapter titles until he found an interesting topic then skimmed that chapter.

'They're all written by Madame Mercy'

'I guess she made this place'

While Emile read through Madame Mercy's research, Blood cleared one of the shelves and laid on top of it. He closed his eyes and instantly fell asleep.

Hours passed since the old witch passed their door and Emile's read tens of chapters by now. His biggest concern, other than the crazed hollow shell of a guardian hunting them, was the validity of the journals.

Just because this woman named Madame Mercy wrote something down didn't necessarily mean it was true. Her findings about essence and her understanding of the beings this world refers to as "Gods" was extensive, but was it accurate?

After all, the people of Earth believed it was flat for centuries. Emile could only imagine how wrong people could explain something given the reality of essence. Essence made anything possible so any explanation could technically be true.

Emile picked up another journal, excited to dive into the details of the new world he found himself in. This journal was titled "Creatures That Innately Exchange Essence" which was the second part to the first journal "How to Convert Natural Essence Into a Usable Medium."

But before Emile could start reading it, his exhaustion caught up with him and he fell asleep.

***

The rattling of the door woke Emile. It violently shook back and forth along with a heavy banging. Blood jumped off the shelf and grabbed his dagger out of the air.

Signaling at one another, Emile approached the door while Blood stood beside it. Emile's hand crouched to the lock and then, after a deep breath, he unlocked it.

The door slammed open and a Wooden Puppet burst into the room. Without missing a bit, Blood plunged the dagger into the puppets chest and it dissolved into light.

"We need to move." Blood said while peeking into the hallway.

The two boys ran down the hallway until they came to an intersection. Looking down the two other paths, multiple wooden dolls were looking back at them.

Emile didn't hesitate. He grabbed the dagger from Blood's hands and slit his arm. Since they were both able to rest their essence was back to full.

Blood weaved Emile's life force out of his body and created a barrage of crystal icicles. Like a shotgun blast, the icicles violently ripped through the hallways shredding both the Wooden Puppets and the walls themselves.

But then, a maniacal laughter crept from behind. Turning around, the guardian wobbled into view still holding her wretched head.

Blood looked at Emile, "She's mine!"

Blood bolted down the hallway sprinting towards the old woman as fast as he could. He conjured a behemoth sized arm out of crystal and melded it to his torso.

He used the massive arm to push off of the ground and, like a gorilla, Blood pounded his fist into the woman's body. She collapsed like a slinky, her bones broke and pushed out of her mangled body all the while her head rolled across the floor.

With his body sized arm, Blood pulled the woman's hair and launched her across the hallway where it crashed into the wall beside Emile. Blood splattered up the wall and her head flattened considerably.

Then, like a tsunami, Blood razed down the hall until his open palm pressed against the old woman's cheek and the wall. With all of Blood's velocity, his palm easily crushed the woman's skull and even ripped through the wall itself.

An amalgamation of spit, blood, and brains exploded into the air and painted the surrounding walls. And yet, Blood's soul never acknowledged the kill.

Blood allowed his behemoth arm to liquify and he stepped away from the disgusting mess of body parts littered around.

"She's still here—" Blood said, "somewhere."

Kommentar Kommentar von 0

Abstimmen

GESCHENK VERSENDEN

Load failed, please RETRY