Last of the Gods - Chapter 10
I do hope to be making more - and more relevant - updates in the future, but for now, short and to the point.
I apologize for the occasional changes in tense. My Beta and I both felt it helped the action flow better, and I need all the help I can get in that area.
Also, if the end seems abrupt, don't worry.
*
Chapter 10
*
Horatio exploded forward. His sword shrieked through the darkness as he hurtled towards the beast - towards Marisol.
The raw havoc the Ghost was wreaking on the ground, on everything, made it difficult to get a foothold, to get any leverage with which to attack, especially as he dodged its huge, flailing limbs, hacking through any that came his way; they seemed endless, more and more rising from darkness, from beneath the ground, to swing and crash at anything and everything.
*
Horatio disappeared in an instant into the darkness, and Natalia was left alone, rocking on her feet as she tried to balance herself. In the utter and complete blackness, there wasn’t even a shred of light to glint off Horatio’s sword, to indicate where he or Marisol were.
*
He didn’t have time to be toyed with - he hadn’t had any to begin with. Of course, he had one, and only one, advantage - he always did: Ghosts never cared about Guards. They weren’t even on the same wavelength. They had minds for only one thing in this world, in any world: Seers’ Eyes.
But Horatio didn’t even have the conscious time to remember that. He leapt, as best he could, into the air, slicing through another mindlessly thrashing appendage and using the stump as leverage to leap further, closer and closer to the beast’s body, as it were - closer to the enormous black mass that had completely eroded the hollow room’s floor.
He ducked and dodged; between the moving floor, the Ghost’s own horrendous limbs, and his sword, Horatio covered the space between them quickly.
Quickly, quickly, not quick enough!
Marisol, suspended, being whipped wildly through the air, yet still conscious, called out again. It echoed dimly in Horatio’s ears, the first and foremost sound being the rushing wind that signaled his speed, and where the next potential blow might come from.
But he heard it - heard her - and had only just flicked his eyes upwards when it hit him: a hard, deliberate blow that sent him flying back as quickly as he had come forward. His eyes widened, and he struggled to catch his breath, to find a foothold, anything, when it hit him again, from above, sending him crashing down to the ground, through the ground. He threw his arms out to protect himself from the boulders that followed, half-burying him, stunned and weaponless.
*
The horrible limbs swing ever closer and lower, and Natalia crouches, making herself as small, as safe, as possible. In the continuous shattering of rocks and walls there was still no sign of Horatio or Marisol. The latter’s screaming had stopped, giving Natalia the feeling of being completely alone with the beast whose only impulses were to kill her as quickly as possible.
There was a whisper in the air, and suddenly - so suddenly that Natalia nearly screamed in surprise - something large and heavy thudded to the ground ahead of her.
She recognizes it, something about the shape, the size; something about it that makes her scramble forward towards it if for no other reason than that it makes her feel just a tiny bit safer.
*
His heart races. The whole situation is absurd. He feels as though he’s been born again, thrust suddenly into a dark and violent world with absolutely nothing on his side. Before this very moment, he had never even noticed his heart racing, if it ever had. Now it pounds in his ears as he considers the situation.
It’s impossible.
That’s exactly it. He’d been targeted, deliberately beaten down by a cunning, powerful creature. Only one of those words should ever be used in describing a Ghost. Was it even a Ghost, then?
Absolutely impossible. Inconceivable.
He snarls suddenly, forcing himself upright. He doesn’t have the time, dammit, to be thinking about this.
Impossible!
He forced his way through the rocks, thrashing, throwing them aside, and charged, as fast as he could, towards the beast, seemingly further away than ever, but still as wild, as angry even, as ever.
And this time he knew it sensed him. And this time Horatio is prepared for a real battle.
His sword was gone, lost somewhere in the fray - it didn’t matter. He dodged, jumped, rolled and ran past everything the monster threw at him; he couldn’t even hear Marisol scream anymore, his focus was so singular.
Kill it. Destroy it.
It was as he made the first jump, directly in front of the beast’s enormous frame, that he reached back for his knife, sewn into a pocket in his vest. A sword, a knife - the only difference was personal preference. Ghosts could be beaten bare-handed, but to be destroyed they had to be cut.
He ran up the vertical surface of its body, tearing the knife through its gut - though he knew it wouldn’t be enough - when he was struck again. A limb shot straight out of the beast’s body and into Horatio’s chest.
This time, though, the Guard managed to keep his wind, and land on his feet, in view of his sword, on the ground, within a moment’s reach -
as well as Marisol’s body.
*
She recognizes it, something about the shape, the size; something about it that makes her scramble forward towards it if for no other reason than that it makes her feel just a tiny bit safer.
At least, until she’s close enough to see the blood.
It’s Marisol, laying sprawled and limp on the uneven ground, the blood from the socket where her Eye had been already sliding down her cheek and pooling quickly beside her.
Natalia is frozen beside her, on her knees, close enough to touch her, horrified. How could this happen? How could it happen with Horatio right here, protecting them?
Natalia noticed Horatio there, but felt nothing. There was no reassurance now, no feeling that everything will be all right. She couldn’t even look up. There was nothing in the air but the sound of the Ghost’s fury and destruction and, now, the iron-tinged scent of blood.
*
Its mission half-accomplished, the Ghost took this moment to reform. Its body swelled and grew taller, many of its flailing limbs being drawn back into its body. It caught Horatio and Natalia’s attention as it emitted a harsh, high-pitched shrieking of some sort.
Then, out of the darkness, a fully-formed and hideous head emerged, lunging towards them, towards Natalia, a gaping maw swinging low as though to eat her alive.
Then it stopped dead, in front of Horatio, who had moved between it and the Seers’ bodies. It seemed to hesitate for a moment, then roared, the horrific sound hitting every pitch - so low it shook the mountain itself, and so high that it felt, to Natalia, like her ears might burst.
*
Horatio roars back.
He feels restored, steadier on the ground. He feels hot, his blood rushing. He feels powerful, very suddenly, but more than anything, he feels rage. An absolute, all-consuming rage that swells in his heart and propels him forward.
*
It was the most incredible thing Natalia had ever seen, and as it happened, she forgot entirely about Marisol, staring wide-eyed into the distance.
Horatio had charged straight through the beast’s face, and was even rending a gaping hole through its body. It roared and fell back, pulling away from Natalia, only to have its entire left side suddenly fall away.
All by Horatio’s hand. Somehow, now, Natalia could see him fleetingly in the darkness, moving faster even than Danny, too fast to even seem real. And everywhere he flew the Ghost was being torn apart, huge limbs being hacked free and falling, crashing to the ground before disappearing.
The Ghost suddenly seemed so innocuous, so helpless, moaning pathetically as it was whittled down to nothing. Natalia had never seen anything like it in the entire world.
*
It’s almost as though he’s dreaming, outside his body. He seems to move instantaneously, his body light as a feather as he cuts the beast to pieces. Every step and every strike are perfect, and he doesn’t stop - can’t stop.
At last the Ghost fell, literally, to the floor of the cave while its body washed out around them and then disappeared.
Horatio leapt to the ground, burying his blade into what little was left of the monster’s head, rending it to scraps of nothingness.
Finally, it rolled out: Marisol’s Eye - that which the Ghost had stolen, taken into itself, thereby fulfilling the only purpose the loathsome creatures had: taking life, whether this one or the chance at the next.
He clutched it safely in his palm, yet he still felt the searing-hot energy within his body. He walked slowly, carefully, back to Marisol and Natalia, hoping the feeling would fade, but it didn’t.
Natalia was in a trance, Horatio noticed, as he kneeled on the other side of Marisol’s body. He laid a hand on his Seer, but felt nothing, and no change in himself save for a strange, vindictive satisfaction that he’d done his job, something he’d never felt after any successful mission during the ten years he and Marisol had hunted together.
It was strange, and unnerving.
*
Natalia felt as though she had entered the Afterlife herself, rather than merely merging her consciousness with another plane. Hundreds of people, spirits, were gathered together, murmuring, muttering, crying. She followed their gazes, making her way through the crowd. Even with her Eye wide open, none seemed to take any notice of her.
At the center of the crowd there seemed to be even more tragedy; men and women wept openly on their knees, children wailed, and the talking was indecipherable and incessant.
And there she was: Marisol, in the middle of it, kneeling, comforting, and smiling, ever-so-gently. She alone seemed to notice Natalia, and stood up to greet her.
“They’re sorry,” she explained, “for my death. Their town was destroyed, completely destroyed, hundreds of years ago, and they’ve been alone here. Now that they’ve regained their consciousnesses, they recognize what...happened.”
Finally, then, the people slowly seemed to come back to themselves, to follow the Seers with their gaze. They followed Marisol, still wailing and sobbing.
“We’re sorry...!”
“So sorry!”
“Please forgive us...!”
Now Marisol looked at Natalia sadly. “I’ve already forgiven them. I’ve told them. I’m not even sure they can hear me.”
The spirits were closing in tighter on them, moaning their apologies even as they took notice of Natalia’s Eye, and were, slowly but surely, drawn into the embrace of the Afterlife.
The slow procession of the mourning dead seemed to take an age, and once they were gone, Natalia dropped to her knees in the eerily silent darkness, feeling exhausted.
Marisol knelt next to her, touching her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“...Yes. Well...” she blinked slowly and turned to Marisol. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe...I can’t believe they won. The Guild - they did this! Marisol, they did this on purpose!”
Marisol looked contemplative. “To kill me?”
“Or me. More likely me. Or all of us. But it’s over now. What...what do I do? What do we do? My life...I can’t even THINK about it! And you... Oh, God... Your Eye...”
“Oh. Yeah...” Marisol touched the empty, hollow socket with one hand. “It’s... It’s all right. It doesn’t feel like anything. It didn’t even hurt, really. It was so, so sudden.”
Natalia sighed. She felt ready to die herself at that moment. She could barely stand to be having this conversation. What do you say? What do you say to someone whose final moments are entirely in your hands?
Natalia looks down, a little shamefully.
“You...You should go now, too, Marisol... I don’t have much energy left.”
“...No.”
*
Horatio looked up painfully when Natalia shivered, signaling her return to normal consciousness. He looked at her, plaintively, until she regained her balance and looked back.
Somehow, that look made Natalia feel responsible. She smiled reassuringly, but the corners of her mouth trembled.
“She’s...she’s fine, Horatio. And she says ‘good-bye.’”
*
D-M
I apologize for the occasional changes in tense. My Beta and I both felt it helped the action flow better, and I need all the help I can get in that area.
Also, if the end seems abrupt, don't worry.
*
Chapter 10
*
Horatio exploded forward. His sword shrieked through the darkness as he hurtled towards the beast - towards Marisol.
The raw havoc the Ghost was wreaking on the ground, on everything, made it difficult to get a foothold, to get any leverage with which to attack, especially as he dodged its huge, flailing limbs, hacking through any that came his way; they seemed endless, more and more rising from darkness, from beneath the ground, to swing and crash at anything and everything.
*
Horatio disappeared in an instant into the darkness, and Natalia was left alone, rocking on her feet as she tried to balance herself. In the utter and complete blackness, there wasn’t even a shred of light to glint off Horatio’s sword, to indicate where he or Marisol were.
*
He didn’t have time to be toyed with - he hadn’t had any to begin with. Of course, he had one, and only one, advantage - he always did: Ghosts never cared about Guards. They weren’t even on the same wavelength. They had minds for only one thing in this world, in any world: Seers’ Eyes.
But Horatio didn’t even have the conscious time to remember that. He leapt, as best he could, into the air, slicing through another mindlessly thrashing appendage and using the stump as leverage to leap further, closer and closer to the beast’s body, as it were - closer to the enormous black mass that had completely eroded the hollow room’s floor.
He ducked and dodged; between the moving floor, the Ghost’s own horrendous limbs, and his sword, Horatio covered the space between them quickly.
Quickly, quickly, not quick enough!
Marisol, suspended, being whipped wildly through the air, yet still conscious, called out again. It echoed dimly in Horatio’s ears, the first and foremost sound being the rushing wind that signaled his speed, and where the next potential blow might come from.
But he heard it - heard her - and had only just flicked his eyes upwards when it hit him: a hard, deliberate blow that sent him flying back as quickly as he had come forward. His eyes widened, and he struggled to catch his breath, to find a foothold, anything, when it hit him again, from above, sending him crashing down to the ground, through the ground. He threw his arms out to protect himself from the boulders that followed, half-burying him, stunned and weaponless.
*
The horrible limbs swing ever closer and lower, and Natalia crouches, making herself as small, as safe, as possible. In the continuous shattering of rocks and walls there was still no sign of Horatio or Marisol. The latter’s screaming had stopped, giving Natalia the feeling of being completely alone with the beast whose only impulses were to kill her as quickly as possible.
There was a whisper in the air, and suddenly - so suddenly that Natalia nearly screamed in surprise - something large and heavy thudded to the ground ahead of her.
She recognizes it, something about the shape, the size; something about it that makes her scramble forward towards it if for no other reason than that it makes her feel just a tiny bit safer.
*
His heart races. The whole situation is absurd. He feels as though he’s been born again, thrust suddenly into a dark and violent world with absolutely nothing on his side. Before this very moment, he had never even noticed his heart racing, if it ever had. Now it pounds in his ears as he considers the situation.
It’s impossible.
That’s exactly it. He’d been targeted, deliberately beaten down by a cunning, powerful creature. Only one of those words should ever be used in describing a Ghost. Was it even a Ghost, then?
Absolutely impossible. Inconceivable.
He snarls suddenly, forcing himself upright. He doesn’t have the time, dammit, to be thinking about this.
Impossible!
He forced his way through the rocks, thrashing, throwing them aside, and charged, as fast as he could, towards the beast, seemingly further away than ever, but still as wild, as angry even, as ever.
And this time he knew it sensed him. And this time Horatio is prepared for a real battle.
His sword was gone, lost somewhere in the fray - it didn’t matter. He dodged, jumped, rolled and ran past everything the monster threw at him; he couldn’t even hear Marisol scream anymore, his focus was so singular.
Kill it. Destroy it.
It was as he made the first jump, directly in front of the beast’s enormous frame, that he reached back for his knife, sewn into a pocket in his vest. A sword, a knife - the only difference was personal preference. Ghosts could be beaten bare-handed, but to be destroyed they had to be cut.
He ran up the vertical surface of its body, tearing the knife through its gut - though he knew it wouldn’t be enough - when he was struck again. A limb shot straight out of the beast’s body and into Horatio’s chest.
This time, though, the Guard managed to keep his wind, and land on his feet, in view of his sword, on the ground, within a moment’s reach -
as well as Marisol’s body.
*
She recognizes it, something about the shape, the size; something about it that makes her scramble forward towards it if for no other reason than that it makes her feel just a tiny bit safer.
At least, until she’s close enough to see the blood.
It’s Marisol, laying sprawled and limp on the uneven ground, the blood from the socket where her Eye had been already sliding down her cheek and pooling quickly beside her.
Natalia is frozen beside her, on her knees, close enough to touch her, horrified. How could this happen? How could it happen with Horatio right here, protecting them?
Natalia noticed Horatio there, but felt nothing. There was no reassurance now, no feeling that everything will be all right. She couldn’t even look up. There was nothing in the air but the sound of the Ghost’s fury and destruction and, now, the iron-tinged scent of blood.
*
Its mission half-accomplished, the Ghost took this moment to reform. Its body swelled and grew taller, many of its flailing limbs being drawn back into its body. It caught Horatio and Natalia’s attention as it emitted a harsh, high-pitched shrieking of some sort.
Then, out of the darkness, a fully-formed and hideous head emerged, lunging towards them, towards Natalia, a gaping maw swinging low as though to eat her alive.
Then it stopped dead, in front of Horatio, who had moved between it and the Seers’ bodies. It seemed to hesitate for a moment, then roared, the horrific sound hitting every pitch - so low it shook the mountain itself, and so high that it felt, to Natalia, like her ears might burst.
*
Horatio roars back.
He feels restored, steadier on the ground. He feels hot, his blood rushing. He feels powerful, very suddenly, but more than anything, he feels rage. An absolute, all-consuming rage that swells in his heart and propels him forward.
*
It was the most incredible thing Natalia had ever seen, and as it happened, she forgot entirely about Marisol, staring wide-eyed into the distance.
Horatio had charged straight through the beast’s face, and was even rending a gaping hole through its body. It roared and fell back, pulling away from Natalia, only to have its entire left side suddenly fall away.
All by Horatio’s hand. Somehow, now, Natalia could see him fleetingly in the darkness, moving faster even than Danny, too fast to even seem real. And everywhere he flew the Ghost was being torn apart, huge limbs being hacked free and falling, crashing to the ground before disappearing.
The Ghost suddenly seemed so innocuous, so helpless, moaning pathetically as it was whittled down to nothing. Natalia had never seen anything like it in the entire world.
*
It’s almost as though he’s dreaming, outside his body. He seems to move instantaneously, his body light as a feather as he cuts the beast to pieces. Every step and every strike are perfect, and he doesn’t stop - can’t stop.
At last the Ghost fell, literally, to the floor of the cave while its body washed out around them and then disappeared.
Horatio leapt to the ground, burying his blade into what little was left of the monster’s head, rending it to scraps of nothingness.
Finally, it rolled out: Marisol’s Eye - that which the Ghost had stolen, taken into itself, thereby fulfilling the only purpose the loathsome creatures had: taking life, whether this one or the chance at the next.
He clutched it safely in his palm, yet he still felt the searing-hot energy within his body. He walked slowly, carefully, back to Marisol and Natalia, hoping the feeling would fade, but it didn’t.
Natalia was in a trance, Horatio noticed, as he kneeled on the other side of Marisol’s body. He laid a hand on his Seer, but felt nothing, and no change in himself save for a strange, vindictive satisfaction that he’d done his job, something he’d never felt after any successful mission during the ten years he and Marisol had hunted together.
It was strange, and unnerving.
*
Natalia felt as though she had entered the Afterlife herself, rather than merely merging her consciousness with another plane. Hundreds of people, spirits, were gathered together, murmuring, muttering, crying. She followed their gazes, making her way through the crowd. Even with her Eye wide open, none seemed to take any notice of her.
At the center of the crowd there seemed to be even more tragedy; men and women wept openly on their knees, children wailed, and the talking was indecipherable and incessant.
And there she was: Marisol, in the middle of it, kneeling, comforting, and smiling, ever-so-gently. She alone seemed to notice Natalia, and stood up to greet her.
“They’re sorry,” she explained, “for my death. Their town was destroyed, completely destroyed, hundreds of years ago, and they’ve been alone here. Now that they’ve regained their consciousnesses, they recognize what...happened.”
Finally, then, the people slowly seemed to come back to themselves, to follow the Seers with their gaze. They followed Marisol, still wailing and sobbing.
“We’re sorry...!”
“So sorry!”
“Please forgive us...!”
Now Marisol looked at Natalia sadly. “I’ve already forgiven them. I’ve told them. I’m not even sure they can hear me.”
The spirits were closing in tighter on them, moaning their apologies even as they took notice of Natalia’s Eye, and were, slowly but surely, drawn into the embrace of the Afterlife.
The slow procession of the mourning dead seemed to take an age, and once they were gone, Natalia dropped to her knees in the eerily silent darkness, feeling exhausted.
Marisol knelt next to her, touching her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“...Yes. Well...” she blinked slowly and turned to Marisol. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe...I can’t believe they won. The Guild - they did this! Marisol, they did this on purpose!”
Marisol looked contemplative. “To kill me?”
“Or me. More likely me. Or all of us. But it’s over now. What...what do I do? What do we do? My life...I can’t even THINK about it! And you... Oh, God... Your Eye...”
“Oh. Yeah...” Marisol touched the empty, hollow socket with one hand. “It’s... It’s all right. It doesn’t feel like anything. It didn’t even hurt, really. It was so, so sudden.”
Natalia sighed. She felt ready to die herself at that moment. She could barely stand to be having this conversation. What do you say? What do you say to someone whose final moments are entirely in your hands?
Natalia looks down, a little shamefully.
“You...You should go now, too, Marisol... I don’t have much energy left.”
“...No.”
*
Horatio looked up painfully when Natalia shivered, signaling her return to normal consciousness. He looked at her, plaintively, until she regained her balance and looked back.
Somehow, that look made Natalia feel responsible. She smiled reassuringly, but the corners of her mouth trembled.
“She’s...she’s fine, Horatio. And she says ‘good-bye.’”
*
D-M