"How did we get back outside?!" Marichi gasped, pushing himself up, his eyes wide with the wonder of a child discovering light for the first time. He saw the precipice of the cliff where the carriage had plunged, a surge of pure joy washing over him.
Now, I have to find a way to get myself healed…
To get Jorel healed.
He turned, beginning to crawl towards Jorel's still form.
But wait…
Where's Burtu?
Sweat, cold and sudden, beaded on his face as he frantically scanned the immediate surroundings.
Or is this another illusion?!
A cold unease stirred within him, and he craned his neck to the sky.
There he was. Burtu, impossibly suspended in the air, holding a shriveled, indistinct corpse. He stood before the nascent moon, its silver light bathing his bare chest, reflecting off him as if he were made of starlight.
Slowly, Burtu's head turned to the ground, his gaze settling on Marichi and Jorel. The terror and fear that had once contorted his features were utterly absent, replaced by a chilling serenity.
!
Both Marichi's heart and mind seized, skipping a beat as Burtu's gaze pierced them.
Burtu descended, a slow, deliberate motion as if stepping down invisible stairs. He casually tossed the corpse aside, and it did not fall but sank into the solid earth as if it were liquid ground.
"You both are still alive…" he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.
"Figures." He exhaled, a soft puff of air, as his feet finally touched the ground.
"Burtu… Please." Marichi's awareness of the oppressive atmosphere was immediate. A calm, viscous bloodlust oozed from Burtu's now perfectly healed body.
"I didn't get the chance to beg when you used me."
"Why should you?" Burtu countered, flicking his fingers dismissively in the air. Marichi's head bowed, no response forming on his lips.
What to do?
What to do?!
His mind raced, a frantic marathon searching for an escape, but found nothing. Burtu was drawing closer.
"So I'm going to be different from you both." Burtu chuckled, a dry, unsettling sound, as he calmly placed a hand on Marichi's shoulder.
"The two of you have a headstart to try and run." His eyes widened, suddenly vast and empty, his voice deepening to a chilling cold.
"If that'll do anything" He scoffed under his breath, a mocking whisper.
Run?!
But how?!
I can barely move myself!
Marichi strained, forcing his muscles to obey, but they remained leaden.
Jorel is still out cold!
He glanced at Jorel's shallow, wheezing breaths.
We even need to get healed quickly. Blood dripped steadily from the many wounds and tears on both their bodies.
"Your headstart begins…" Burtu said, his tone aloof, almost bored.
"Now!" he barked, a sharp command, recoiling suddenly.
A surge of adrenaline, the last dying embers within Marichi's system, flared. He found the strength to stand, quickly heaving Jorel onto his shoulder, supporting his weight, and stumbled into a bucking dash.
Where to go?
Where to go?!
Bones creaked, and fresh blood spurted from Marichi's straining form as he shouldered Jorel.
They plunged deeper into the forest, Marichi banking on the cover of the dense trees and the enveloping darkness of the night to hide them.
"I still see you!" Burtu's lips stretched into a wide smile. He casually raked his fingers across his face, then plunged his hands into his own torso. Black blood gushed, a momentary fountain.
He pulled his hands free, raising them slowly, clenching his fists. All around Marichi and Jorel, the trees twisted violently, their branches morphing into sharp, wooden spikes, their trunks elongating unnaturally. Their cover dissolved, revealing their position to Burtu, who merely smiled and tapped his foot on the earth.
"You know what?" He spoke to himself, a low murmur.
"I'm tired!" he growled, dropping into a sprinter's crouch. His muscles writhed, contorting and twisting beneath his skin, bones cracking with each unsettling shift.
Burtu then bolted towards them at a blinding speed, the constant cacophony of his rearranging bones a visceral reminder of his terrifying proximity. Marichi risked a glance over his shoulder, Burtu, hungry yet melancholic, was gaining on them.
All hope drained from Marichi. He could concoct no plan, no desperate plea. Like a dying animal, he felt an agonizing acceptance of defeat, yet still chose to run. Then, he tripped over Jorel's body, and they both tumbled to the ground.
This is it…
Can't believe that this is how it ends.
I haven't even achieved what I wanted to do.
Marichi cursed himself, lifting his head, teeth gritted in defiance.
VWHOOSH!
Finally!
The voices would stop…
The pain would end…
I'll be free from the torment.
An ecstatic, almost manic grin stretched across Burtu's face. He was upon them, drooling slightly, his eyes – heavily bagged and bloodshot – widened with savage intent.
KRR----SPLAT!
Burtu was instantly blinded as black blood erupted from both his eyes. The torrent subsided, revealing jagged crimson shards embedded deep within his eye sockets.
"Arrghh!" He grunted in raw pain, swaying his head, hands clawing at his face.
"Wha…" Marichi stared, utterly bewildered.
Burtu ripped the shards from his eyes. Black blood pulsed out like a severed artery, a torrent that then, sickeningly, began to articulate and reform, knitting his eyes back into perfect, unnerving existence.
The first thing he saw was a boy, hurtling towards him, a fist cocked and ready.
BAM!
Before Burtu could react, the boy's fist punched into his face. Burtu was sent flying backward.
His body slammed against the ground, his fingers digging in, plowing furrows to slow his momentum. He snapped his head up, a seared shout escaping his lips, as his nosebleed instantly vanished. He watched the boy hover above the ground, right in front of Marichi and Jorel, his coat swaying in the unseen wind.
Burtu gathered himself, rising to his feet, glaring at the boy with a sudden, searing hatred in his sleep-deprived eyes. Marichi, still reeling in disbelief, watched as the boy turned, his face etched with worry, and gently pressed his hands against Marichi's body.
"Leader!" The boy cried, tears welling in his eyes. He recoiled subtly, catching sight of the hands protruding from Marichi's shoulders.
"K-Kacis?" Marichi's mind reeled, recognizing the face.
"How's he?!" A girl's voice, laced with urgency, cut through the air.
Marichi turned, scanning the darkness. A girl with short black hair, dressed similarly to Kacis, raced towards them.
"Blutsatchel?!" He gasped in confusion. Then he saw another girl behind her, her eyes seemingly sewing and arranging themselves as thread like formations back into their sockets with unnerving precision.
"Acis!" Marichi roared, a sound of both pain and profound relief.
---The end of chapter 42---