《I'm the descendant of the Demon Lord!》Chapter 4: The Gallery of Death
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I gasped, and began coughing. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I could still feel the shock and surprise that had enveloped me.
I-I-I’m alive? But, but the hole?!
I stare down at my chest, coughing. Perfectly okay. The same old bones and skin. I lack a gaping hole in my chest. That’s… reassuring?
. I pushed myself off the ground, and massaged my chest. That was scary. Was it an illusion?
I remember about the woman and look around wildly. There’s no trace of her. Her tearing a hole in my chest… I shudder, grasping my chest tightly. Wh-what happened?
And finally, I take notice of my surroundings.
“Wh-wha-?!”
I look around, shocked. The houses, the mud houses of the slums, everyone of them were burning.
And the flames were not normal ones. A dark sticky red like flame, which devoured the scene around me.
The narrow street I stood in was covered with debris, all covered with those dangerous looking flames. The debris was all around me, enclosing me like an arena.
Both sides of the street were covered with the remains of what stood there, and with those flames burning, I dare not try and cross them.
I look up at the sky. It was still dark, almost dawn. Was I out for a while? What happened? Did someone attack the Gureis kingdom? Impossible. Its military might was not something so weak that someone could take over in one night.
Wait, how long was I out?
Judging by my hunger, and the fact that I could still walk, I’m sure it’s not more than a day.
I begin walking, towards the blockade. I threw away my hesitation. The closer I got to those flames, the more heat I felt. And the heat was not like that of a normal fire. It felt like a thousand fires were focused at a single point, threatening to burn me from this far away. But oddly, the flames did nothing to me, except make my body feel hot and sweaty.
I keep advancing. It’s useless to wait for someone to save me anyways. If someone did find me, they would probably take it as an opportunity to get rid of a great evil from this world. That’s right. The one whom I can depend on is me.
Right now, I felt as if I were being roasted inside an oven, at the highest temperature possible.
I place my hand on the debris, and the flames advance on me, as if delighted at finding new prey.
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But suddenly, they backed off, and continued burning, without advancing.
I placed my bad arm at a lower spot, just as insurance. Wait. My arm. It was supposed to be dislocated.
I swing my arm, and not even the slightest tinge of pain greets me. Wow. That’s great, I guess.
Right leg forward, and I begin climbing. Slowly, but surely, I climbed the wreckage, keeping my arm from getting any more harm.
I climb over to the top of the debris and roll down the sloping side of the arena like enclosure. I try to keep my body away from those dangerous looking flames. I get up and continue climbing down this huge wall of trash.
As the morning light crossed over from the horizon towards the slums, the scene unfolded before me.
Carnage.
The slums were a wreck without doubt, but now, it was nothing like before.
Smoke rose to the skies, clouding the burning remains of the humongous slum.
The houses all lay crumbled, like a storm had passed through them. And all across the wide field, I could see those disgusting red flames, burning and guzzling down the debris. The flames were weird without a doubt. They sent a sensation of heat, and instead of burning, they erased the existence of the substance, as if they were being consumed.
“Th-the slums…”
I had no particular attachment to this disgusting place, but being here, I could at least feel that I had a place to sleep, and that I would be safe. A pseudo home, but home nonetheless.
I collapsed onto my knees, distraught.
*Squish!*
Something, something got squelched under my knee. I looked down, at the source of the sensation.
“UWAAAAH!”
I kicked it off and crawled away, scared.
What was there, was… was a head. A head, that was unbearably familiar to me. The dirty blonde hair growing on his despicable head. How could I not recognize him. The source of my despair.
His head lay there, without a body to attach itself to. The skin on the neck looked like it was twisted and turned, as if it were a toy’s ripped off head.
One of his eyes were poked out, and the other hanging loosely with a strand of flesh connecting it to the main body. The eye ball rolled from me kicking it, and faced me.
I couldn’t even raise a sound. The oppression, the fear, the despair I felt from that… that head lying there, clamped down on my lungs, and I felt as if I couldn’t breathe.
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I lay there, gagging, because I couldn’t inhale a drop of air.
I’m scared. I’m scared!
Someone, save me!
There was something welling up from my stomach, and at the back of my throat.
I rolled over, supporting myself, and opened my mouth.
I threw up. Everything, every inch of food I had ever eaten, everything gushed out in a bright yellow stream.
“Haaah…HAaaah.”
I couldn’t stop gasping, from the shock of seeing it.
I staggered to my feet, still breathing, somehow. My mind felt fuzzy, as if it just wanted to shut down.
No…I can’t. I need to…get out of here.
Even thinking was taking a toll on me, and all that filled my mind was that head. That eyeball rolling on the ground. That, that despair I felt.
But, only after I struggled to my feet, did I see the true face of the massacre that occurred here.
The street, no, this was more apt to be called a gallery, was pinned with works of art.
Bodies.
Every one of them were bent and twisted at impossible angles, and pinned to the wall, like a display piece. My eyes widened, as the scent of the corpses which were starting to rot wafted into my nose.
I walked through the street, wishing it were all a dream. My entire body felt mechanic, as I walked through the galleria of the dead, not even understanding what was real and what was a dream.
Am I insane? I am right? That would explain everything… Everything.
For some reason, a liquid was pouring down my cheeks. It was warm, and viscous.
“What…what is this?”
For the first time in my life, I cried for someone else.
The thick drops of my tears rolled down my face, and I couldn’t stop them.
“These tears, they’re odd aren’t they? After all, you guys were the people who tried to kill me, who wanted me dead! And yet…and yet…. Why….why did you have to die…?”
I talked to empty air and that in itself felt real, as if I were speaking to them. Insanity was encroaching on my mind, and I was ready to let it take over.
Even if.. even if… they hated and despised me… they were the closest I had to a family. Even hated, the slums were my home. Even ostracized, this was my hometown, and these were people I knew. The only people I knew.
I couldn’t even think anymore. I walked to the Food distribution area, and only there, the gallery’s actual attractions were placed.
A mountain of corpses. One on top of the other, as if they were going to touch the skies. All their expressions were filled with despair, and their lifeless eyes were filled with fear, mixed with hate.
In front of the corpses, a spear was planted in the ground.
And on them, a gruesome scene was created.
Bodies of five babies, were impaled on there. Each one through the head, and their blood caked the spear.
The entire ground was filled with blood, and was already the color of dried blood.
My legs felt weak. They were trembling. I got on my knees, and grasped my hands tightly, to keep myself from shaking even more. And like that, I spent a while, mourning for the ones who wanted me dead.
“Wh-who would do something like this?!”
A while later, a voice emerged, from behind the corpses, and a stumbling figure walked out.
“Th-th-the sister?”
Her eyes were filled with aversion and disgust at the sight of the mountain.
I somehow muttered these words, and her green eyes turned to me.
Sister is here. She’ll save me. Yeah.
My mind was already filled with hope when I looked at her kind figure, and I stretched my arm to her.
“Y-yo-you monster!”
Eh?
“You demon! How could you!? All these people?! How could you kill them?! You bastard son of demons! Die! Just die! I always knew you were one of those demon scum! Why won’t you just drop dead!”
No. Stop. It hurts! Please stop it!
Even if the others called me so, on a daily basis, it couldn’t hurt. But from sister, those words, they were like lethal strikes. Her words struck my heart, like a lance covered in venom. Her eyes were filled with fear and hatred.
Hatred against me.
It dawned on me.
Without a doubt, in this world, I am alone. No one wants me, no one needs me. In the end, who am I, but a clone?
Even if people find me, they’ll only want to kill me. I need to, I need to get away from here.
I ran.
Through those winding streets filled with death.
I didn’t know where.
But I knew, anywhere but here.
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[ ✏️ ]𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇he dies and she writespoems to keep her mind at ease.𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇she learns to acceptwhat has happened.●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘chris sturniolo x fem!oc a short story of poemlowercase intended© { sidesturniolo 26/09/22 }[ ✏️ ]
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