Chapter Text
Leaves crunch under the weight of his boots as he stumbles through the wilderness. An axe in his hand and a pack on his back. He's gone too deep North into the Forest of Esther to turn back now.
Exhaustion has slowed him down since his race to get away. From the monsters that crawled up from the ground below and now roam the land. The end is upon them all, now. The chaos that unleashed showed the betrayers from where they stood.
Monsters grew in their places.
Better a grown man, who can easily defend himself, than a child locked in fear of the horrors that reflected in their eyes from the spreading fire that she once called her home. The groans and screams become background noise to her. That child could've been saved from the monster that killed her. If only her father thought of her as important enough than his own skin. In the time it took him to flee to the treeline with his polished dagger and leather satchel, her throat was ripped open and her innocence bled from her.
Selfish.
Better two sisters, who thought themselves to be the true followers of the gods, than their bedridden mother, that could do nothing more than lay still while the screams of the people she once knew succumbed to some unknown fate. She could feel the heat through her body, the smoke fill her lungs, yet all she could do was lay, weep, and pray her daughters were spared.
The panic would only rise till death took her. She would never know what became of her daughters, never knew they had willingly left her to die in the devastation that was now behind them, hand in hand. Only a prayer between them for their own survival that they carried in their joined hands. The mother's own body was her tomb. And death had taken her slow.
Cowards.
Better the quartet of boys who had strong bonds but bad intentions, than the vulnerable they left to their demise. Who thought the perfect time to loot and pilfer was during the slaughter of their village.
They each earned a wound for their troubles.
Shattered bone in one's arm from parts of his neighbors roof crashing down on it. Leaving him permanent loss of mobility and disfigurement. Aches and pains in his arm that will never go away.
He's the one that suffers endless pain, right? He's the one who has it worse. People have no right to complain from such fickle things such as a twisted ankle, bruised ribs, or even a dislocated shoulder? He'll give them something more to feel if they think they have the right to complain to him. He's filled with bitter callousness.
A burn and injury to one's leg. After the roof caved and trapped his leg the fire neared hot and fast with the help of the thatch roofing, burning up his leg. In his panic and adrenaline rushed state he managed to get the fallen debris off of himself, but not without a deep cut lined along his calf. Giving him a permanent limp, more noticeable in the winter times when his body becomes stiff from the cold. He burns with rage.
An unforgiving bite to one's shoulder from a monster that came around the burnt porch when they were escaping the collapsing home, valuables in hand and brothers hooked arms. He wouldn't make it through the night. Infection burned his mind. Now, he walks with the monsters that reek of death. Mindless. With only instinct to guide them. To bite, to tear, to chew, to kill.
And the last. He may have escaped with some bruises and scratches. But his wound was one of loss of what once was his friends, his brothers. He nursed the two last living back to health with the teachings of his late mother and sister. But though he did his best to heal their wounds, their minds were forever changed.
They weren't the same boys he grew up with. What was he to do?
He will suffer the consequences of not being more insistent with leaving the homes alone. He will hurt. Both his mind and his body will pay.
Greedy.
Better a lady with iron will and grief so strong, than the filth of a man who she knows killed her little brother last Fall. Even if no one had believed her.
In the chaos she helps another woman about her age. She seems strong. Dependable. She and the fellow lady find a little boy clutching to, presumably, his deceased mother's corpse. Eyes watered yet no tears fell, not yet. He's too young to understand what has befallen her. Too confused in his naivety.
After settling the boy protectively in her arms, they make their way out after stopping by the wreckage of her old home to gather supplies while the monsters from below are distracted. There's only so many people she can care for with a child in her arms.
Once they make way to the forest they hear a yell. When she turns she sees that dreaded man. Desperate eyes.
She watches. He cries out for help, spotting them through the trees, while trying to scrabble away from a monster.
She watches. How desperate he seems.. He gets stuck, pinned down beneath the creature.
She pulls the boy's head to her shoulder, shielding him from the view. She narrows her eyes and just. Stares. Was this how he made her baby brother feel before he killed him? Scared? Desperate? Alone? While he did gods knows what to her last, living, breathing, family? Her only reason left for being here?
She watches him. His flesh, torn apart from cruel jaws. No mercy.
The lady beside her hasn't a clue what to do other than cover the child's ears from hearing the horrors of a brutal death that happen upon them. Gods knows he's heard a enough of that.
She trembles as she watches, yet her mind feels clear for the first time since fall. No mercy. Her mind speaks. No mercy. Flesh tears.
No mercy. No mercy. No mercy. No mercy-
That's enough. He's dead. And the dead will feast on his rotten heart and soul. May he rot with the monsters that killed him.
They continue on in silence. Leaving death behind them.
He's been moving through the woods for what feels like hours now. Night is nearing and the chill is steadily creeping up his fingertips. At least the cold keeps him present, as much as he wishes to be in that blissful state of floating where nothing exists and nothing could hurt him.
He doesn't know where he is or how far he's traveled. Only that he's far enough to no longer see the smoke behind him. He's never been this far away from the community since he settled here three years ago. His bag is weighing his shoulders down to a near unbearable amount now that the adrenaline is gone. His hand aches from where he still has an iron tight grip on his axe. He hasn't let go of it since.. departing from the village. He thinks if he were to try to let go his fingers wouldn't move an inch from the stiffness.
His feet eventually come to a stop. He needs to think of his priorities at the moment. Shelter being the top of the list. He needs to feel secure. He looks around but every direction looks the same.
He rolls his aching shoulders. He closes his eyes, just for a moment. Time to look for somewhere to camp out. He takes a breath in through his nose and a long breath out through his chapped lips that sounds more like a sigh.
If he remembers correctly he knows that there should be a river that will lead to a cave. As long as he hasn't had such poor enough luck that he already passed it. He guesses humoring the ramblings of the strange traveler that stumbled upon him all those months ago ended up coming in handy right about now.
...
He, fortunately, did end up finding that river. Thinking if he followed the tracks left behind from deer and other critters, it should lead him to water. Seeing as he could hear the sound of water getting ever closer, he was proved right.
He stood a few feet away from the waters edge, still a good distance from any visibility that might give away his presence. Watching which way the water flowed. He decided to walk with the rush of water. Seeing as it also took him farther away. He hoped he'd stumble upon some sort of shelter for the night.
Eventually he came upon a large hollowed tree. A beauty, he thinks. It must be centuries old givin how large it is. Yet it only continues to grow no matter how much it's insides decay.
He peeks inside, yes, this will be his shelter till further notice. He sets his pack down in the tree, back mercifully freed from the weight. He takes to gathering any long branches that will cover the opening of the tree.
Once he's settled he sits down, back against the inner tree facing the partially closed off entryway. Axe laid across his lap. Now that he's without distractions his mind runs free. The dark makes it near impossible to focus on anything else but his thoughts and the events that happened earlier that day.
Gods. He wants to go home. To his bed. To the security that only four walls and- His breathing becomes shaky as he tries to push the feelings away. But every time he tries to think of home it becomes distorted. Did he really have to do this again? His knee anxiously bounces the axe on his lap.
Eventually he hears crying. He knows it's not real. He knows his mama isn't here. She can't be. It's not real. His axe falls onto the dirt as he shifts. Knees to chest. He covers his ears with both of his shaking hands. When did he start shaking? He presses down firmly. Fingers latching in his messy hair. He doesn't want to think anymore.
Slowly releasing his fingers one by one. Gently running his fingertips back and forth through his hair on the sides of his head to the back of his neck. Then cupping it in his folded hands. Only then does he calm.
He curls up on his side, head pillowed on his bag, back still against the tree facing the entrance. He settles. Shoulders relax through an exhale- when he notices the stiffness on his face. He reaches with the hand that's not tucked under him to touch his face. He's met with a wetness that he follows up to his eyes. Pulling his hand back, he's met with his drying tears.
Well, he guesses, it wasn't mama he thought he was hearing. It was himself.
With no more energy left to spare he wipes his eyes and cradles his axe to his chest and lets the darkness take him.
A darkness lurks unnoticed. Watching with rapt attention while the human falls still. Seeing, hearing, as the air enters and exits through their body. It tilts it's head.
Fascinating.