The towering man in ashen armor finally fell, his life struggling to keep hold on his body, under the monster. He was running on nothing but herbs and drugs, pushing his body to just get through that night, but now: he lay defeated. All of it wasn’t good enough, for defeated he was; staring at the sockets of an old bull skull above him. He shouldn’t have put his body through all the pain just to get back at a man long since dead because now he had to pay, pay with the realization that he wasn’t good enough to protect his precious one until her wedding, an event she’d discussed ever since that weakling proposed it.

Natravi had spoke volumes of the matter but never wasted a breath on it. He knew her anticipation not from their words exchanged, which were rare, but from the cracks in her mask whenever the matter was discussed openly. She was happier in those times than he’d seen her in a long time.

‘I hope the fool heeded my words,’ Drac thought. ‘He’ll have no choice but to if he wants to protect her. Fools; the both of them, just like her parents.’

Natravi was foolish enough to follow him when he waded into the dark waters, instead of staying in the bright island he’d built for her. It annoyed him, even made him furious sometimes and now; finding himself so helpless against the monster atop him, he felt disappointed. At himself and her, they were better than this. He’d survived deuls, battles, ambushes, wars and more but having Natravi in danger made him forgetful. She knew this yet still persisted to-

“[Sequi mandata mea] Impale him.” The little girl said, and before he understood what was happening he was screaming in pain, as the monster followed her commands.

“AHHHHH-gblugh” Drac spat blood. It sprayed out and painted flecks on the skull. The girl came back into his view; her face obscured by the darkness but her voice never more clear. She knelt beside his head and spoke;

“She killed my father,” she said in a mournful voice he knew all too well. “This wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. We were supposed to leave together once Yikensworth was destroyed. We were supposed to be together after this, no guards, no duties, no fake mothers. But she ruined everything.”

‘She’s Willaims’? She did this?’

“Why?” he croaked out. That caught her attention as she suddenly whipped her head back to him.

“Because she loves you,” the girl knelt again. “You mean as much to her as father did to me, so you will die and she will watch and suffer like me.”

“Why this?”

She hesitated before answering; “I wasn’t good enough and he hated it.”

“My father loved putting on acts for the public,” she said. “He showed everyone that he was a loving husband and father but the truth is; when you’re a constant reminder of his greatest failure you were treated like one yourself; left alone and as far away from him as possible so he wouldn’t have to see his mistakes. I wasn’t good enough and I wanted to change that. This halo was one way to do it.”

It was then that Drac realized that the little girl had indeed worn a simple hoop of metal around her head; a halo.

“It showed me control over my abilities, and control over his mind. He was to create the monsters you see before you, he was to destroy his own city and become his own greatest failure. He would have been lost, and that was when I was to step forth and guide him, give him hope when he had none and finally earn my due the proper way.” She sighed. “But now it doesn’t matter. Your daughter and that know-it-all mercenary, Luvrit, deprived me of my precious moment. So, I will kill you and make her watch before I kill her and Luvrit.….[Sequi mandata mea] Lift him.”

The creature began to move Drac, using the claws he’d been impaled with to lift him. Fortunately for him most of the force rested on the armor so it didn’t hurt him as much as the stab had done.

“Any last words?”

“Kto…nauchil tebya kak nenavidet’?” Drac felt the edge of the cliff with his feet and hoped he could still move them.

“What?”

Suddenly he kicked the edge and pushed off, pulling the monster with him. Despite it’s larger size it was a lot lighter than the previous one because of having been made with a black liquid instead of human limbs. Drac held onto its arms and tried twisting it below him. Now that he was on top he could see Natravi lying in defeat before an armored orange-haired woman.

“YAAAAAAA!” he yelled, hoping to crush the woman with the fall. He heard a ‘thump’, felt pain on his front, saw a dust cloud bloom around him and smelled copper before falling unconscious.

………………………

Natravi stood up amidst a cloud of dust and observed the scene around her. The hallows before her and the grimy mortals around her locked in combat, the heavy stench of blood, dust and corpses normally found at the gallows surrounding her, all confined in the misshapen hollow cavern almost made her flinch in disgust.

“Atleast It’s something new,” she inhaled the putrid smell and smiled.

Though the cave was dark, it did little to affect her perception. She’d spent too long a time living in places this dark when the world was young, when it was nurturing itself, growing and evolving. She lightly dusted herself, feeling the smooth skin instead of just remembering it.

“Free at last,” she sighed.

“Wha-what the fuck?!” a shrill voice caught her attention. She slowly turned to look over her shoulder and saw a young girl with bright orange hair yelling at another girl atop the cliff. “You were supposed to handle him!”

“Behind you, she’s still standing!” another girl yelled. Natravi’s lips quivered in a ghost of a smile as she watched the little girl twist around like a little cat, sporting an equally pleasing expression.

“How’re you still standing? I cut you!” she shouted.

“Did you now?” Natravi said. She brought up her hand, the loose sleeve falling, to reveal her flawless skin. “It seems you didn’t cut well enough. However, if you had cut me before my awakening then you must have cut my vessel. I could thank you for finally pushing her into that place…but I can’t overlook the slight against one of my descendants so easily.”

“What?!~” the girl sung. “Did I knock something loose~? I’m sworry~.”

“Tell me little girl; why have the hallowed been allowed to roam free?” she asked.

“Hallowed? Do you see any saints? Unless of course you’re referring to me~.”

“Hmmm, no matter I shall ask someone else after I do away with you,” Natravi said, taking a step towards her.

“You sure you want to do this? Again?”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about child, but I assure you this will not be like before,” she said as she took another step, smirking at the sword the girl had pulled out. “You may have fought and beaten my descendant but you have not fought me.”

“We’ll see,” the girl said as she took off running.

‘Should I use the reality thread? No, it wouldn’t be any fun. Oh, she’s already here.’

Natravi sidestepped and the girl missed her by an inch from her nose. She sidestepped to her left and tapped on her outstretched elbow she’d narrowly dodged. She sidestepped to the right and traced the sword as it thrust out to where she’d previously been.

“This is rather fun; walking like this again,” she said before slapping the girl on her shoulder and causing her to fall. The orange haired girl flipped up and tried kicking her chin but Natravi merely pushed her leg higher and swiped at her other foot, causing her to fall over once more. “What a beautiful piece of magic your armor is. Tell me who’s its maker.”

“The same person who killed him,” the girl pounced at her. The girl’s expression turned victorious as her sword pierced the robes but when she felt it prick her skin Natravi; picked out a thread, recited its contents from memory and pushed the girl away with a jerk of her body, all in a matter of half a breath, before moving to inspect the damage to her robes. There was a small cut that tore all through her layers, and if she stretched one could see all the way to her stomach.

‘How barbaric,’ she thought. She looked up at the young girl, who was sent through the hallows and trapped in the base of the cliff in an indent made by her own armor. ‘Who was she referring to?’

“…him?” Natravi looked at the strange form a few steps away from her and frowned. She observed closer and realized that the creature was actually two creatures. An interestingly designed beast lay motionless before her, something she was so encapsulated in finding more about that she almost missed the armor she’d been seeing outside her window for the past few decades. “Are you her beloved?”

‘Perhaps it was passed down the family’ she thought, as she stepped closer to the armored man. ‘She could’ve given it to her husband since he was large enough to fit it. Are you dead, child?’

She slowly lifted the helm and peered in. Such was it’s designed that unless it was titled in such a way, under the brightest of light, it could not be seen. So only after using another thread for her eyes was she able to learn something by peering in. He was, surprisingly, of different race than her vessel. He had a broad, thin face: most of which was hidden beneath a large black beard. He had a sunken eye, probably due to a loss of it, a few small scars that looked like stretch marks below his high cheeckbones and an arched nose that complimented his other facial features.

“Her father certainly chose poorly,” she said. “So old, she’ll be a widow before long... Hmmm, he does look familiar.”

‘Incest? He looks a lot like Ivan, albiet bigger.’ She thought curiously. ‘Normally I’d let fate have its way but considering she’s the last of my line with him I’ll have to interfere until I can produce an heir. So, who is foolish enough to go against my line? Who dares-Hmm, they seem to be too busy fighting for their lives to listen to me; I’ll have to fix that. I haven’t tried this in a while.’

Her wood coloured skin faded into a faireness that bordered on chalkwhite. Next came the red lines, spreading out from over her heart and running all over from her head to her toes, creating braid-like patterns.

With her transformation complete she turned towards the ongoing battle. Their attention was too focused on survival to even notice her change. She observed the threads of the flow, particularly the different shades of red and white her altercation allowed her to see, and chose words carefully. She raised her hands and whispered;

[Apponere vita: Libertatem et Imperium]

She felt the usual pain of creating pure forms of energy from her body but kept it from escaping her lips. Tendrils of red shade began to slowly spread out of her fingertips. They swayed and separated into more and more tendrils until there was one for each hallow and mortal. By the time the humans or the hallows became aware of her it was already too late. Each tendril connected to the necks of the creatures, bending them to her will.

“Oh shit! Men, retreat!” Someone yelled. Glancing over she saw someone lead some mortals away from her and up the slope in a pathetic attempt at escape. With an almost indescernable frown she sent her first thought to the army before her.

“Stop them.”

The men closest to them broke out, abandoning their weapons and running away with reckless abandon. In a few minutes her subjects tackled the runners and subdued them with ease. They wriggled like fish out of water but her subjects kept their hold.

“I’ll keep it simple; who did this to him?” She spoke through her amplified voice. By the nod of her head she lifted him and the creature into the air- ‘[Lux]’-with light illuminating them from the side. She waited a minute and when none came forth she lifted her middle finger, causing the men attached to that finger to struggle with air. They were slowly lifted up as they fought against their hanging.

“Anyone?”

“Its them!” that person furthest on the slope yelled. “It was the undead!”

‘He must mean the hallows,’ she thought. ‘Now where is their master?’

“Behind you!” some of the men yelled as if reading her thoughts.

She turned around and was surprised to see a sword sailing towards her. She let go of the armored man, letting him fall on the hallows to be used as a cushion, and with a flick of her head stopped the sword before it could pierce her head. She pursed her lips and lightly blew on the metal-[Repellunt]-causing it to fly back where it came from with twice as much speed. It struck the tip of the cliff and created a crater.

She waited a minute before another sword was thrown her way. This one was spinning on its axis, almost like an arrow, and had strings of blue flames trailing in the air as it travelled. She prepared another breath, this one a lot deeper than before, and blew it all. Instantaneously, the sword flew back: disappearing behind the edge of the crater.

“Ahhh!” the shrill shriek of the girl brought a small smile to her lips. She suddenly felt a strong pull to her being coming from atop the cliff. She closed her eyes and focused on the pull. ‘Come to me, come to me….’ She repeated multiple times until she felt the pull weaken to almost nothing. Opening her eyes, she saw a silver halo the size of a girl’s head.

She whipped her hand, sending the motion along the red tendrils and causing the men and hallows attached to her five fingers to suddenly lose their heads. While they played headless chicken with eachother she reached up and grasped the halo.

“Ah,” a moan escaped her lips as a shiver ran down her spine. The sensation was so…pleasing that she didn’t think until her lips were pressed against the silver, giving it a kiss. She pulled back and held the halo against the head.

‘Must be one of his creations to make me feel like this. I wonder where he is?’

“Natravi?”

“You’re awake, good,” she responded with delight. ‘No, that isn’t how she’ll do it. Emotionless, arrogant…am I missing something. Wait. That isn’t a stranger shes talking to, that’s her husband. How would she be with her husband? Subserviant, huh? Interesting attitude for somone who thinks she’s better than everyone else.’

“Please sit still Drac, I’ll let the hallows take you down,” she said. “Take him down, don’t let him die.”

They moved slowly and carefully, pulling the claws out as the man cried in pain. They supported him as he stood and caught him when he fell. She let them sit him down before continuing.

“It’s alright now, Drac. I took care of their master, they obey me now.”

“Did-ugh, did you…kill her?” he croaked.

“Her…yes, I think I did.” She frowned at Drac’s posture; his head hung low, his shoulders were drooped and he slowly shook his head. No matter how small those movements were, she knew disappointment when she saw it. “I even got a spoil of victory.”

She lifted the halo before him and narrowed her eyes in scrutiny. She knew the girl, Natravi, held deep love and respect for the man so was caught quite off guard when he suddenly shifted from hidden disappointment to outright anger. Although he was bleeding and badly beaten his posture was a threatening one, not what she was expecting of a loving husband.

“Aren’t you proud? We can finally leave-”

“Ugh, argh-fuck you bitch-Hmmmm,” their attention was caught by someone struggling under a hallow who was now muffling his screams.

“Drac, we can finally leave and no-one’s going to stop us,” she explained, getting down on her knees to come at his level. “I’ll let the…undead stay here after we’re gone so the rest of the men don’t have to worry about fighting them anymore. I can control them Drac…why don’t you trust me?”

“…Haven’t you noticed?” He wheezed out. “We’ve been talking in Ruvski-tongue, I never taught you that.”

“Well of course you have, don’t you remember?” she stared with worry. Although she put up an innocent front she was absolutely furious inside. How did she miss something so important? She was still speaking in Ivan’s tongue and didn’t know where she was to change. He was dangerous, it was regrettable but, she will have to-

“Another thing,” he gasped out. “You didn’t change back. You still have your marks.”

She frowned and jumped back, expecting an attack. It seemed she’d judged correctly for she saw Drac suddenly jump from his place and close the distance between them. He had no weapons to kill her with but considering her vessels weak constitution she had not doubts that his weight would be enough. She didn’t have another descendant that would suite her as a vessel anywhere close-by and only the creator knew how long it would be before she would have someone suitable. She didn’t want to lose herself to the eons spent in the quiet place, as time was spent differently there, before she could feel a vessel call out.

However, as fate would have it, Drac tripped over a rock and fell, merely slapping her chest back before falling incapacitated once more. She quickly directed the undead to press into him, pinning him down. Natravi raised an eyebrow at him as he continued struggling, even though, the most he could do was wiggle.

“Who are you?” she asked coldly. When she didn’t receive any response for a full minute she hummed disappointedly. “Fine, take your secrets to the grave. I’ll find them eventually when I resurrect you as a hallow.”

‘I could read his mind but where’s the fun in that? Now, how should I take care of him? It has to be fun and new, something I haven’t tried in a long time.’ While she went through her ideas, she was acutely aware of the struggling guard in the back but ignored it for later. ‘He’s so far it hardly matters what he gets up to.’

“I’ve decided,” she clasped her hands together and looked at him expectantly. “I’ll melt you. It wouldn’t take long; with your injuries a mere minute would do ‘the trick’.”

She began to feel the itch in her palms as her pores released the acidic substance. The closer she got the less Drac began to struggle until she stood directly above a motionless Drac. That was when the defeated man began to cough violently. She paid it no mind and continued poring the substance over the neck part of his armor.

“Argh! How does it feel, hmmm?” he whispered. “How does it feel to kill your own son?”

“I am not your mother, child,” she said, frowning deeply.

“So Ivan Izmennik wasn’t your husband?” Drac continued to laugh.

“How do you know that name? Who are you?” she said, gaining a scary look on her face as she dismissed the acid in her hands.

“How can a mother not recognize the face of her son; Dracovich Izmennik and your granddaughter, Serafima’s child?”

“No…” she said. She thought the man was lying, but the conviction in his voice left no room for doubt. Whatever cracks appeared in his story were quickly mended over because of her actions. No one should’ve known who she was; everyone who knew was dead, for she made sure of that. So lost in thought was she, that it wasn’t until the arrow was half an inch away did she realize what was happening. But by then, it was too late.

The arrow struck, just two inches off from the center of her heart. She cried in pain as she was knocked back from the force. She felt her consciousness fading. She desperately tried to hang on but the knock on the back of her head from her fall made her lose her grip. The last thing she heard was someone shouting ‘you-beautiful-whoreson,’ before she fell back into her bedroom inside the white space. However, one thought kept replaying in her head and she held onto it tightly.

‘Dracovich, Dracovich...My child is alive.’

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Luvrit couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He suspected it was still due to his mind playing tricks on him from when he was awoken by the screams…or rather just a scream because it was only one person who was screaming bloody murder.

‘How did he ever get into Karl’s post?’ He thought. He winced as a headache claimed his mind. He tried moving his hands he was once again reminded that in Drac’s infinite wisdom he forgot to pull his arm from behind his back. It hurt; stung pins and needles into that limb, but the headache was worse.

He didn’t care that the undead were right there. In his state; death seemed like an easier option.

‘Heh, a day ago you wouldn’t catch dead me saying that, now…fuck’ he reeled in his lips to suppress the sounds of pain. He didn’t think his headache could get worse, but with the help of his stomach injury it was very possible.

Luvrit tried to keep his eyes open as he watched the events unfold before him. Everything was a lot quieter now that white Natravi had made her intention known. He waited with baited breath as he saw her rise up slightly and throw the swords back towards the cliff. There was no doubt in his mind that one of those were his. He was impressed by the blatant display of power, much like how he was when under the subtle effect of being infactuated by her but since he wasn’t as feeble minded as the rest he retained his power over himself. He was more interested in finding out who she was batteling. He’d assumed that it was the person responsible for this massacre.

‘And by all the gods am I going to watch him die,’ he vowed. However, he was not prepared to find out as when the shrill scream of a young girl, Lidia, rang out. He was left staring wide-eyes, open mouth and headache forgotten.

‘How is this possible? She was supposed to be taken away…She did this?! That bitch!’

Fortunately, his thoughts were interrupted, from going down a more colourful scheme of words to describe his anger, by that screaming archer who was now wrestling with an undead. Surprisingly, his actions didn’t draw too much attention.

He saw the man finally knock the head clean off the undead and watched in fascination as the body continued to writhe in place. Meanwhile, the archer stood up and aimed his bow and arrow at the white Natravi before knocking it loose. Luvrit watched the arrow sail off into the distance, losing it in the darkness before he heard the shout that caused shivers to run up his spine. The involuntary function, born from fear of those spider-like women he’d seen on his way, caused his arm to finally be set free.

He continued watching as everyone suddenly gasped and stood up. Strompf made his shouts, the idiot always had a knack for inducing headaches, before the rest realized their situation and began cutting off the last remaining undead.

They were doing it. It seemed almost hopeless a few minutes ago but the men, rejuvenated with newfound morale, took arms and diced the undead, sliced their throats and stabbed their heart. They had hope, right before the bitch decided to throw her tantrum.

“I will not fail!” she yelled so loudly that even he could hear it from where he sat, lodged in rocks.

“What’s going on?!” Strompf shouted. Luvrit tried speaking out but his chest hurt too much to form any proper words. Instead, he stayed mute and watched the archer, Gale he thought, knock back another arrow. It sailed and disappeared into the darkness.

“RRRaaaauuuu,” twin growls erupted from where the cliff was. Luvrit knew that growl all too well, it was the same as when he’d encountered the creature atop the mousaleum.

“Gale, what have you done?” Strompf said.

‘Probably killed that self-centered bitch!’ Luvrit thought vindictively. ‘Run you fools, run!’

As if he could hear him, Strompf repeated his words to his remaining men and saw them run.

In hopes to dislodge the few stones on him he tried wriggling, but after a minute he finally gave up. He knew the rocks weren’t that heavy but his limbs hurt too much to do anything. He looked at the men as they made their way out and tried calling out, but his voice was drowned out by the stomping of heavy feet.

“Karl! Come on sir, I’ve got you.” Strompf said as he picked up, what Luvrit thought was Karl.

“Wait, hold on Strompf,” he said gruffly. “Go grab the girl, she’ll be useful.”

“But sir, she’s a demon. Didn’t you see her command the undead as her own, calling them her ‘hallows’.”

‘I can’t believe they can’t hear me!’ Luvrit thought, frustrated. He was wriggling as much as he could and when he tried to speak Karl voiced over him, almost as if the warden knew he was there. ‘Down here! Warden!’

“She’s powerful. Her-her uncle; Drac, I know what kind of man he is. She seems to follow his ideals,” he gulped as he explained further. “And if I’m right about this and we save her life she’ll do anything for us. We can gain a very powerful ally with this.”

“But sir, she’ll kill us if she wakes-”

“I know how to deal with flow-readers, you leave her to me and get her,” Karl began coughing. “Go, just go!”

Without so much as a glance in his direction Strompf took off running towards the end of the slope. He yelled and some people to join him as they disappeared into the darkness.

“Funny thing, isn’t it?” Karl said, suddenly very calm. He turned towards him and looked at him from beyond the rocks. “Me and old William always tried to out-do each other. He got soldiers loyal, only to him, while I got the guards. He got enforcers, well so did I. He, however, won in having an heir, while I’m still far behind. But the ironic thing is, the only victory he had over me as adults is actually the main reason why he lost it all. But I still have my guards and my enforcers so I say I won in the end. Say hello to your master down there and tell him; the game was never getting the important parts in life, it was simply surviving. Think you can do that for me? Blond-dog.”

“Fucker,” Luvrit barely croaked out. He tried pushing away the rocks but after a few fell off the strength suddenly left him, and he was exhausted again.

“Goodbye,” Karl smirked. He wiped away the blood coming from his head and disappeared from sight.

‘Goddamit! Somebody!’ Luvrit’s arms hurt and it only made him shed more tears as he tried forcing his hands up to signal anyone. But everyone had already left, leaving the undead and the last group carrying Drac and Natravi towards him. ‘This is my last chance, god if I don’t make it out of here…fuck you. I gave my everything following your words, sure I wasn’t always true on the dot but I did what I could with what I was given. If you think anything of me, even anything bad; just look out for my family. I don’t want anything to happen to Peter and Fliss. Please.’

With the last of his thoughts concluded Luvrit stared at the growing figure of Strompf and his men battling their way through the undead. Behind them, he could distinctly hear the sounds of beasts bounding towards them.

Fortunately, the undead were quickly plowed through and the group continued on. Luvrit frowned when he saw Drac being dragged like a rag doll while holding, the now brown, Natravi in one hand and his sword in another. The men were too busy dragging those two than focus on him, hidden behind the rock. For what seemed like the umpteenth time Luvrit cursed Drac for hiding him so well. Fortunately, the begining of the steps weren’t far away so he decided that when they were close enough he would grab onto Drac’s armor or stuff his hand in one of its openings so tha even if his hand if forever lost, he would at least live.

Luvrit waited, once again, with baited breath until he saw them walk up the stairs. It was then he used whatever strength he could and thrust his hands out into the wedges of Drac’s armored legs. While he laid there he waited with fear gripping his heart; if they didn’t move, if hey didn’t live him up they would die because the beasts were very close now. One of them was even approaching the end of the slope.

In those painfully, excruciatingly slow seconds every possible scenario went throught Luvrit’s head; decapitation, mauling, stabbing, impalement, defilement and being left behind. However, his worries were for naught as he felt himself being lifted up.

The pain, the pain of his hand being bent in an unnatural way was too much to keep in. Luvrit whimpered, because that was all he could do with his strength; wriggle or whimper. Pathetic. But he kept his self-depreciation from evolving, it wouldn’t do to suddenly find faults in his salvation. His prayers had been answered and god’s answer was pretty obvious; ‘I’ll leave you to take care of your unfinished business.’

Luvrit sighed with relief when he felt arms hefted up before he was thrown down the stairs. He tumbled and rolled till he stopped by a pair of hands that wrapped around him, pulling him off the ground. He peeked through closed eye-lids and saw the spikes of three heads poke his face. Instinct overruled pain, and then fear overruled instinct. He kept his body from quivering under it’s inspection. It turned him over, twisted him around before losing interest in a corpse and trekking towards those bastards. Luvrit kept his body limp and focused on his hearing as they disappeared out of sight. He could only imagine what was happening behind him.

“Raaaaauuuuu,” the creature growled as it began running up the stairs. The sudden cut-off of someone’s scream told him that those who threw him had been taken care of. He didn’t dare breathe but he nodded in contentment at having his brief vengeance sated. He imagined that the monster’s white glistening skulls juxtaposing the dark environment as it bathed in blood and clawed at the entrance. It began by digging at the sides, trying to widen the tunnel so it could fit. However, there was another monster waiting for them.

“AAAH!” Drac yelled as he brought his hand up, lifting his sword, and thrust it into the creature’s head. The beast flailed about, throwing itself at the entrance. It probably knocked off some rocks because the next sound was one of rocks falling and flattening bodies. The monsters fell atop one another and died together. Their shrill screams being cut short were all the evidence he hoped to believe in.

The dust settled over the pile of undead. The darkeness settled back onto the piles of corpses. Now, the betrayal began to really settle on the only survivor left behind. Surrounded by the smell of death, piles and piles of bodies to see as far as his eyes could and suffering from festering threatening wounds Luvrit sighed in defeat. They’d left him, knowing he was trying to survive just like them. Ironically, it was exactly those actions that prevented him from being ripped like them.

‘They knew I was there and threw me off,’ he thought. ‘I guess god has other plans for me. I’m fucking Luvrit Ade, come on. I should be able to get out of this. I am responsible for keeping the streets safe for all that dead shit’s subjects. Even the criminals sentenced to unlawful death were given a second chance. So give me my chance god! I may be forgotten but I ain’t dead yet!’

Luvrit struggled to turn around and by the time he gave up he was lying on his side. The sweat had begun seeping into his wounds burning them like alcohol. Atleast it gave him a chance to speak.

“Hello darkness, it seems you’ve come to greet me again,” he said, no longer caring about the pain in his throat or his chest. He tried to embrace it, hoping that if he did it would lead him to the much sought after relief faster. “My old friend.”