《Hazardous Debugging: Reanimation》Chapter IV
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I couldn't leave the dais without being gunned down by archers, and they couldn't do anything without risking the life of my hostage. Suddenly the doors of one of the corner towers flew open, and a man in a black Mantle covered in runes stepped onto the castle wall. He exchanged words with an archer and then turned to me.
"Release him, fiend, and I promise you an easy death!"
"What's the alternative?" I tried to chuckle, but what escaped my throat was more like a broken screech.
"Otherwise, you will learn that death is only the beginning," hissed the man in the mantle. The Mage began to seeth with darkness, and the soldiers were getting nearer and nearer.
Attention! You have just resisted the effects of a "Shackles of pain" incantation!
Fear me, Damn you!
Casting spell "Gaze of the forest bird."
I started starring down the soldiers, one froze, another started lowering his weapon. Then I turned my gaze towards the archers. One by one, they fell under my spell. That's right, good boys, put your pee shooters down nice and slow.
And then my eyes met the Mage's…
Inflicted effect: Rage. The victim has no control over his\her actions.
I saw a cloud of dark energy thrown right at me. Whatever it was it didn't hit it's target and was absorbed by the Baron's body. There was a gut-wrenching scream filled to the brim with torment, which suddenly broke off on the highest note. The Baron's carcass stiffened, the breaking bones crackling louder than I thought possible. Arrows were loosed, all of them hit my ex-hostage.
I took off and reached the stairs in a few strides. Gorring junior's body was my only protection with a couple dozen bolts sticking out of him already, several punched right through, digging into my scaly arms, another just hit me in the side. A little more and I'll reach the wall...
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I must reach the Necromancer to have the slightest chance of surviving this shitstorm. Four paces in front of me I see an archer struggling to reload his crossbow. Upon encountering my gaze, he stammers back, and I shove him aside, demonstrating the short way down from the wall. Another soldier throws away the now useless ranged weapon and charges at me with a drawn short sword. I block the cut with the Baron's body and kick my assailant in the knee.
I push forward. Another kick and the path to the Mage is clear. My human shield catches another spell, and I start to feel it's weight begin to lighten. A pair of legs fall to the parapet beneath me, and I notice shiny taps on the lapels of the galliffet. Intestines and the rest of the stomach's contents soon follow the legs, the rest begins to turn into slime! I nearly slip but keep on running. I'm hit in my right side a bit lower than the ribs by another bolt. I scream from the pain, rushing at the Necromancer.
A crimson veil falls over my eyes. I only notice a barrage of system notifications, my health bar just reached it's lowest point. I don't scream, I roar! The body keeps disintegrating in my arms, and in the last moment, I grab the corpse's thick braid. Green flames consume the short wand in the dark wizard's hand. Time slows down, and I have time to make out the enraged twisted mug of some ghastly creature lunging at me. Instinctively I try to strike it down with the Baron's head, and once again the incantation is consumed by dead flesh. I wave around my horrid trophy and throw it at the Magе's face. Another bolt pierces my knee, and I fall hands forward.
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I notice a foot flying directly to meet my face just in time to pull my chin to my chest. The blow landed on my cheekbone, and there was a deafening crunch, practically losing consciousness I tackle the attacker's legs and bite into his calf. The bastard topples over, and I notice the head tearing away at the Necromancer's neck sprouting tourniquets that engulf the mantle. My health bar replenishes a little. Suddenly the flesh in my hands turns to cinder and ash, my arms are left with nothing but charred bones And the runes on the Mage's clothes begin to glow menacingly.
I lift up my head and look around: soldiers are running toward me along the wall, waving their weapons. The Baron's cursed head keeps jerking around its red threads all over the place, its eyes glow bright green, its mouth, now filled with two rows of teeth, was opening and closing silently in attempts to chew off another piece of what used to be the Baron's Necromancer.
I feel a sort of dark satisfaction and attempt to stand tall. Death should be met with one's head held high. Another arrow chips away a piece of the stone wall next to me. I lean on the parapet and pull the bolt from my stomach shifting my weight off my wounded right leg, the guards are less than 60 feet away from me, and I don't even have the strength to pick up the sword at my feet. I smile at the guards with my now normal face, which causes them to slow down in bewilderment.
In dire situations, when you realize that things can't possibly get any worse, you come up with definitely not the brightest but clearly amusing ideas
"Not so tough now, are you, Mr. Mage!? "
Suddenly the glowing runes began to fade, and the skeleton of the Necromancer levitated into the air above the wall. The Ghost turned it's gaunt skull toward me, the darkness of those empty sockets digging deep into my soul. I wonder what was it looking for in there? The way I see it I have two explanations for this calamity: I'm the new Necromancer in town, or I'm totally Fucked.
"Down, Mr. Mage… Please…" I whimper in desperate lament.
The Ghost kept starring me down, and I had to conclude that I make a shitty Necromancer. The next thing that I realized was that living like this sucks… But I'd rather push on. Without even turning my head, I collapse backward. While going over the parapet, I saw a glimpse of red veins grabbing for my leg.
I was lucky. The castle was surrounded by a deep moat filled with stale water. Nearly drowning I swam to the surface. I'm surprised that nobody's trying to stack my back up with arrows. With great effort, I made reached the shore and crawled up the chaparral-covered bank.
Minutes pass. No shouts, no pursuit, not a sound. Finally, I realize that I'm not crawling alone, Attached to my right leg with its vein- tentacles was the distressful head of the evil Baron. However, it didn't make any attempts to attack me. It was now that I fell powerless with my face buried in the withered grass.
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Witness
The mind is a fragile thing. One slip and the shattered pieces are so innumerable that reconstruction is impossible. One such Theodore Chatwood is unfortunately very familiar with that sentiment. From a young age, frequent visions of horrid, incomprehensible beings plagued his mind, and it only became worse with time. They speak in colors, whispering in ageless language... They wait in corners, watching intently. The world harbors much more than meets the blind eye. Do not fret, though. Simply take the syringe. Hold your breath. Close your eyes. It will all be finished soon... *Updates every Sunday* Cover by: Tentacles and Teeth
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