Kacis instantly flew to the sides, brushing his body against the invisible barrier, searching for an end to its vast expanse. Growing tired, and worried for his team, he then shot upwards, testing its height. But he was corrected; the wall slammed against his body once more, knocking him down.
Ahhh…
His mind faltered as he began to fall. The wall caught up, pushing against him even as he slid off it, still propelled by its unseen momentum.
A crawling pain shot through his back, snapping his thoughts back into focus. He jerked upright, narrowly avoiding impact with the ground.
No!
Fear blossomed in Kacis's eyes. The earth was terrifyingly close. He pushed himself backward, launching into flight once more. He looked down at the ground, his body quaking and shuddering, quickly resuming his desperate backward flight.
How am I going to get away from this?!
He felt at his wit's end, his only recourse to fly backward, watching the invisible wall relentlessly gain on him, churning the very ground it passed over.
Burtu smiled, tears still tracing paths down his cheeks. He floated higher, then turned his back to Kacis and bolted straight for Marichi. The black cartilages around his eyes pulsed, creeping, worming from beneath his skin, an unsettling display of grotesque, living anatomy.
You don't want to be free?
A chilling blend of Caes's and Marichi's voices scolded in his head, a tormenting chorus.
"Yes, I want to be free!" Burtu roared aloud as he closed the distance to Blutsatchel, who stood ready, her red-sharded spear-hand poised for battle.
Then stop wasting time!
Kill him!
Kill them!
He sidestepped Blutsatchel, ignoring her entirely, and plunged straight towards Jorel's body on the ground.
"Nngh?!" Blutsatchel grunted in confusion, her head whipping around as she realized his true target was Jorel.
"No… please…" Marichi's voice echoed in her mind, a desperate plea as she watched, helpless.
One more kill to freedom.
The voice in Burtu's mind egged him on, a malicious whisper.
He paused over Jorel's body, looking at him with a twisted admiration, then swung his left hand downwards, aiming for the boy's face.
KRRK!
Burtu felt a sudden, sharp pain in his left hand. Red shards exploded through his flesh, blooming outward like a deadly flower. Surprised, he turned toward the source, black veins crawling on his face like a spreading corruption.
Blutsatchel stood there, her spear-hand, now with fewer shards, pointed at him as bits of the red material flaked off in a slight breeze, shimmering like dried blood.
Can't believe I'm doing this!
Blutsatchel thought, then forced more shards to erupt from her hand.
BOP BOP BOP BOP BOP!
She fired a volley of shards. Each one pierced Burtu's skin, lodging deep. Black blood spurted from the fresh wounds, painting him in grotesque, abstract patterns.
"Aaaah!" Burtu screamed, a roar of pain and fury.
"You won't keep me from having my peace!" He snarled, his voice thick with rage. He then stomped his feet into the earth, gathering his unnatural push, the very ground groaning in response.
He raised his head, his baggy eyes blazing with unholy fury. He lunged forward, briefly vanishing from sight, only to reappear instantly before Blutsatchel, a terrifying blur that defied natural movement.
!
Her eyebrows shot up in shock. She dodged to the side in a desperate, hasty blur, but Burtu's kick followed, as if he was anticipating her every evade.
WHAM!
The kick connected with Blutsatchel's stomach, sending her staggering back, breath knocked from her lungs. But he didn't let her go. Instead, he plunged his hand into the top of her shoulder, making a short fountain of blood erupt for less than a minute before the wound sealed with unsettling speed.
Blutsatchel shrieked in pain as Burtu breathed heavily, digging his hand deeper, deeper into her flesh, his grip unyielding, his fingers seeming lodged in her sinews.
"You thought you could protect him?" Burtu said, a faint, chilling smile playing on his lips. His fingers swam in her flesh, his speed momentarily slowing as he nodded, a dark chuckle escaping him.
She groaned in pain, a raw, guttural sound. Burtu merely watched, his hair stirring faintly, his hand still buried within the depths of her shoulder, a macabre embrace.
"Run!" Blutsatchel shrieked, a desperate command tearing from her throat as her eyes darted to Acis.
Immediately, Acis broke into a strained but frantic run, Marichi slung across her back, her threads tethered to Jorel, dragging his limp body behind them like a morbid, accelerating doll.
"Tsk tsk." Burtu clicked his tongue, a sound of mock disappointment. He looked over his shoulder at Acis, wagging his free hand slowly in the air as if conducting an invisible orchestra.
Then, with an unseen command, Acis's feet sank through the ground, her movement instantly restricted. She struggled, but only the liquid-like earth sloshed around her trapped feet, pulling her deeper. Marichi, grim and defeated, watched from her back, devoid of strength, unable to even speak.
"C'mon!" She grunted, straining against the invisible bonds, but to no avail. The only result was Marichi almost slipping from her grasp.
"Where do you think you're going?" Burtu asked, easing the pressure of his hand within Blutsatchel's wound, a chilling display of predatory control.
"Marichi… You can't run…" He spoke, and the air around them suddenly felt cold, a biting, unnatural chill, cold enough to seemingly flake off skin and leave frost on the very breath.
"Both you and Jorel." As he spoke, flashes of everyone's outlines flickered, dancing madly before his face like deranged jesters, their forms warped and indistinct.
Can't let Marichi die!
I don't care about the noble bastard!
After everything Marichi has done for us!
Blutsatchel groaned, then, with a surge of agony-fueled defiance, clenched the hand that was lodged in her shoulder, her fingers tightening around Burtu's.
"Hmm?" Burtu turned back, looking at the struggling Blutsatchel as she subtly tightened her grip on his embedded hand.
Then, in her other hand, she shaped a spear once more. Blood flowed freely from what seemed like several new, gaping holes on her arm, reforming into vibrant red shards that crawled up her hand, restoring its former, deadly shape. The new wounds on her arm sealed themselves with red shards, leaving angry, crimson protrusions that pulsed with light.
"Arrghhh!" She let out a guttural roar, enduring the fresh wave of pain as she swiped her spear-hand from down to upwards, aiming for Burtu's neck.
SHCRICK!
Her hand tore through his neck, embedding itself deep, but immediately stuck. Burtu, at first, closed his black-stained eyes, then slowly opened them, the grin on his mouth widening in unison with the grim wound.
"Haha!" He chuckled, a chilling sound. Then, with a sickening crunch, he rearranged his neck. His flesh crushed the shards, his muscles constricting around her hand as it slowly, unnaturally healed, knitting together with the sound of grinding stone.
"What do you think you can do?" He mocked, his head jittering in a triumphant spasm.
Blutsatchel just stared at him, bewildered by his impossible healing, then, with a surge of desperate resolve, shrugged it off. She wriggled her hand, pushing deeper. Soon, more red shards penetrated from beneath his skin, tearing through the regenerating flesh, revealing fresh black blood that seemed to writhe.
Her screams tore through the air, raw and agonizing. Burtu slowly felt the shards growing within his neck, piercing through every tissue and cartilage. All he could do was throw his head back, face towards the sky, and scream in agony as his eyes bled black tears, shaking his head back and forth as he tried desperately to rip his hand free from her grasp.
Not the pain!
Not the pain!
His mind repeated, vibrating with unimaginable torment. His eyes twitched, and the phantom pains returned, scorching every inch of his body.
But his hand was stuck. And soon after, huge, jagged red shards erupted from his neck, bursting his throat wide open and severing his head from the lower part of his neck. His head toppled, falling off, the last expression on Burtu's face a horrifying mix of shock and a nascent, dawning fear.
This allowed Blutsatchel to finally push his hand out of her grievous wound, breaking free. She immediately dropped to the ground alongside Burtu's headless corpse while his head rolled, leaving a trailing smear of black blood and flakes of red shards.
Huffing on the ground like a spent bull, she clutched the deep, gushing wound on her shoulder. Blood poured through her fingers, but her eyes found the moon, relaxing, momentarily soothed by its ethereal light, even as the world around her continued its terrifying dance, the air still thick with the aftermath of unnatural power.
---The end of chapter 44---