章 5: Desperate Salvation
The child moved away, barely in time, the swaying arms barely grazing his head as they came thrashing, the strike rupturing the earth bellow.
He was now more desperate than ever to flee, and when the giant was being propelled by the inertia of his strike forward, he took this opportunity to continue to move forward, putting aside the colossus away as it tumbled far.
He ran through tight and tighter corners that he could find, ones he was sure they couldn't enter, blessed was his tiny body as it let him escape ahead, continuing on to find shelter.
He continued running again, this time the alley he went through was long, considerably longer than the previous ones he went through. He looked at the extensive path beyond and at the horizon of this tunnel, light came forth, an exit.
He was winded now, exhaustion long settled in his body as he was now lumbering across the dirt road, his run deteriorating to a jog.
Suddenly, as he took in a breath of air, a sharp stabbing pain was felt in his shoulder, a pointed object was thrown as it seared, hot with pain.
The pain shocked the boy, he felt his shoulder go wet with blood as it trickled down his back, he went to his shoulder instinctively to feel the wound, but was only met with excruciating pain. Panic gripped at him as his mind raced to understand what had happened. And the terrifying roars that came from behind him proved his fears.
"GOTSH YA!!!"
This was his sign to continue running, as fast as possible to the hope that laid ahead, the light at the end of this tunnel.
The long alleyway was treacherous for the boy, not one where the path was riddled with obstacles, no walls to stop him in his stride, no hazards that would impede him, but the all-encompassing fear that surrounded him in his back.
They were chasing.
The way felt hopeless as his running was weakened by the wound, he felt himself slow, dangerously slow before the chasing hunters that trailed on wanting him dead, but all he could do was stumble.
Then the arduous journey ended as he caught up to the light, as he escaped out of the alleyway to a large, stark black clearing.
The land was dead, wretched and wicked black trees lay across its gray ground, and leafless twigs of bushes lay withering to dust everywhere.
Crows flew above them, visages of despair and death circling above him as if to signal his eventual demise and the futility of his escape. Gravestones of nameless souls protruded out of the soil, their names gone and long forgotten, remain constant in his vision.
And there at the center of this barren waste, a cathedral was spotted.
I
t was situated across a field of dead and withering plant life, the stairs reaching high and above on a platform of cobblestone supporting its entire body.
The boy, now tired and in pain, made that his destination.
The wound on his shoulder was growing ever more painful, he felt his legs giving out beneath him, but he pushed through, tightening his hold on the book, his salvation was through that run down church and he had to reach it, no matter the cost.
He walked through the dead pathway, reaching the ruined steps of the cathedral, walking slowly up towards the doors, and suddenly, his entire body ached and trembled.
He collapsed unto the empty cobblestone ground.
His breath became strained as if no air would come to his lungs. He coughed up blood continuously, a puddle quickly forming and splattering beneath him and his legs became painted with red. He knelt before he had reached the pathway of the doors, but this shacking pain in his body had stopped him from reaching them.
What had happened to him? He wondered in a panic at this, but all thoughts of figuring out this enigma in his body, of what had affected him to this degree, it was held down, he had no time left. And still clutching the grimoire, he powered through, bearing the pain and reaching to open the doors.
The church was in ruins, in an abandoned state, cobwebs spread on the ceiling and the chairs that once filled this hall were splintered, broken and turned to bits and thrown into multiple piles everywhere, the glass windows that contained the images of saints and gods were shattered, with the roof having a gaping holes in it.
The platforms where the sermons of deities were held was destroyed, except for the withering lectern at the center.
He went inside and the pain became worse, every step he took felt like thunder spreading to his legs unto his head.
He was in a state where he couldn't walk, he could no longer withstand this tormenting pain, but instead was now crawling on the ground, using one of his hands to desperately claw at the raised bricks that were sprawled out.
He crawled over the way to the podium.
And as he traveled, he realized now that he was dying, his strength was leaving him and his eyelids were growing heavier, eyes blurring and his face feeling warm as he vomited out blood that puddled across his face, the dagger – he realized now, he surmised- was poisoned.
He reached the platform, clutching the body of the lectern as his labored breath became faint, he poised himself laying sideways as the dagger kept him from laying back, the grimoire was now resting on his stomach, holding it tight as he felt his life slip away.
His final breath escaped his mouth, he was near the clutches of death, he was certain of it now, as he saw in the distance a light descending of to the horizon of his soul.
#
週次パワーステータス
-- 推薦
ランキング 
-- 推薦
チケット