Kaizaell Songe
Member
Word Count: 1494
The howling grew closer, like the shrieks of the damned. The voices, familiar yet foreign, crying as if they were suffering something no mortal being should be put through. Every once in a while words would come out, but they were tinged with a madness that threatened to break through the icy focus Kaizaell was using to get his little enlil friend out from under the soldier’s corpse.
Finally managing to drag her out he heard a crack from nearby and saw the body of the man he’d shot strain, as if it had been stuffed full well past the point of breaking. He barely got Caniir out from it before it split like overripe fruit, a pale skinned creature falling out from the body like some kind of vile unnatural seed falling from a tree. The creature was vile looking, its pallid skin looking like it was some cave dweller, its teeth set in an eternal rictus, and its jaw far too wide to be natural. It didn’t seem to have ears, but it had a wicked set of claws at the ends of its arms and legs.
It slipped out of the body, sliding on some kind of slick fluid that it kept between itself and the shell it had mimicked. It looked like a fearsome creature, though it was far less threatening now with the massive hole his rifle had pierced through it’s braincase.
“Kid!” Caspar shouted, trying to get the young Sniper’s attention back on the fact that there were more of these things and they were quickly coming by the sounds of the howls. “We have to get out of here now!”
“Y-” Kaizaell started, then he got the first whiff of the creature and felt his stomach roil in revulsion. The smell, it was horrible, like refuse on a hot windless day. It seemed to not only coil around his body, but it almost felt like it was soaking into his skin. He retched, half digested foodstuffs splattering the forest floor nearby, though he’d had the forethought to turn his head away from his enlil friend to keep from painting her with it.
“Kaizaell!” the older man yelled again, getting closer then stopping as he gagged at the smell. The man was twenty meters away from them but still he had to take a moment to pause and adjust to the wretched smell. He seemed to decide something and stepped quickly closer, seeming to hold his breath as he did so, and hauled the young soldier to his feet. “Come on! Let’s get the hell out of here!”
The Sniper nodded, cradling Caniir in his arms and looking down at her. She had an extremely dazed expression, but she was still breathing even if it was in short shallow gasps. Whatever the thing had done to her hadn’t killed her, at least not yet.
The Sapper led them through the forests, taking the long way around as the howls began to get closer and closer. Not seeming to gain on them, but instead seeming to keep pace with them. It was unnerving hearing the voices and shrieks off in the distance, but never seeming to get any further away from the damned things.
They fled through the forests, trying to get towards a river they’d had to cross to get to the camp, hoping the flowing water would at least throw off the scent they were leaving behind for the things to follow them with.
“NO!” a woman’s voice cried behind them, making Kaizaell stop in his tracks for a moment, looking around the forest, trying to find the hapless person who had been met with these monstrous creatures in the woods. “Kyther! Save me!”
“Come on, kid,” the old man said, he’d turned around and grabbed the Sniper’s shoulder to bring him back to reality. “It’s too late. We need to move, dammit!”
“Y-yeah,” the young man said, beginning to run again after the Sapper.
The woman’s shrieking became a wail of pain, then suddenly, violently, stopped. The pair kept moving, hearing the rushing of water from the nearby river get louder as they approached. The howls and wails and inhuman screams behind them continued as they circled around them, growing ever closer with each passing heartbeat.
“Go!” the old man said with a growl, shoving the hazel eyed man towards the river banks. “We all won’t get across in time unless someone acts as bait.”
“What the hell are you-” the young man said, turning towards the older man before seeing him crash back into the bushes.
“COME ON YOU UGLY BASTARDS!” the old man screamed, a sizzling flash marking that he’d lit some of his chemical tubes on fire, to distract and taint the air and their scent. “IF YOU’RE THAT HUNGRY I’VE GOT A MEAL FOR YOU!”
The young man rushed down the bank, back towards the river. The old man was right, there was no way he and Caniir would make it across if the things found him in the river itself. He didn’t know if they could swim, but none of them wanted to risk it.
He wasn’t leaving the old man behind to die. He was doing his duty.
However, no matter how many times he repeated these words to himself they rang hollow in his ears.
The young man took some rope from his pack, strapping the catatonic enlil to his back and diving into the river, his light leathers much easier to swim in than the standard mail that was issued. Or at least that’s what he thought.
His clothes seemed to soak up the water greedily, quickly dragging him down until he compensated. He felt Caniir shift on his back, vaguely feeling her spit up and cough. She must have inhaled some of the river water, he grimaced as he attempted to keep them both above the currents, the deeper parts of the crossing coming up and going well above his head. Paddling like a madman he managed to keep them barely above water, and soon felt her coughing fit and breathing return to a normal, steady rhythm. He couldn’t relax yet, they were almost to the midway point of the river, and it would be a short trip if he missed the rocks near the center.
The river here was the strongest part, grasping at him like some ethereal beast trying to drag him and his partner under. A sudden moment of panic gripped him as he felt a river stone give under his boot, sending him spiraling under with his partner. The young man, having not taken a breath before getting dunked felt the fear grasp at his heart as he felt his feathery friend flail on his back. Somehow he managed to surface again, but he was much further down the river than he’d intended.
As the young soldier surfaced he felt, more than heard, a riotous shockwave go through the air, echoing deep in his bones, as a giant blooming ball of fire shot into the air where he had parted ways with the old Sapper. He grimaced, old feelings of guilt threatening to bubble forth before he managed to firmly grasp that particular serpent and lock it away. Now was not the time, the two of them still had to get back and report to the captain.
The rushing river was dragging them further and further down, they had already missed their point of the bank, and with the speed of the current by the time he made it to the other side they could be miles off of track. The young man gritted his teeth, cursing at Araevis, the Vis themselves, and any of the other ghostly beings that others called their patrons to give him the strength to reach the other side.
He’d made it a solid third of the across before a thundering noise that had been growing in intensity brought his attention forwards. He saw what looked like a plume of pure white mist further down and gulped as he realized what was happening. He was being dragged inexorably towards a fall.
Desperately, Kaizaell paddled towards the opposite shore as the current refused to let go of his sodden clothing. He refused to give up, and even prayed to Araevis again, this time without the usual cursing, to deliver him to the other side.
It seemed, however, to fall on deaf ears.
The orphan felt himself flung over the side of the cascade, falling, falling, felt himself crashing down with more and more speed, sure that this would be a fatal fall.
The last thing he did before hitting the bottom was curl in a ball with Caniir in the center to try and protect her from their fall. He felt himself strike the cold water with terrifying force, enough to make his bones creak as he hit, then blackness took him as he sunk deeper into the riverbed.
The howling grew closer, like the shrieks of the damned. The voices, familiar yet foreign, crying as if they were suffering something no mortal being should be put through. Every once in a while words would come out, but they were tinged with a madness that threatened to break through the icy focus Kaizaell was using to get his little enlil friend out from under the soldier’s corpse.
Finally managing to drag her out he heard a crack from nearby and saw the body of the man he’d shot strain, as if it had been stuffed full well past the point of breaking. He barely got Caniir out from it before it split like overripe fruit, a pale skinned creature falling out from the body like some kind of vile unnatural seed falling from a tree. The creature was vile looking, its pallid skin looking like it was some cave dweller, its teeth set in an eternal rictus, and its jaw far too wide to be natural. It didn’t seem to have ears, but it had a wicked set of claws at the ends of its arms and legs.
It slipped out of the body, sliding on some kind of slick fluid that it kept between itself and the shell it had mimicked. It looked like a fearsome creature, though it was far less threatening now with the massive hole his rifle had pierced through it’s braincase.
“Kid!” Caspar shouted, trying to get the young Sniper’s attention back on the fact that there were more of these things and they were quickly coming by the sounds of the howls. “We have to get out of here now!”
“Y-” Kaizaell started, then he got the first whiff of the creature and felt his stomach roil in revulsion. The smell, it was horrible, like refuse on a hot windless day. It seemed to not only coil around his body, but it almost felt like it was soaking into his skin. He retched, half digested foodstuffs splattering the forest floor nearby, though he’d had the forethought to turn his head away from his enlil friend to keep from painting her with it.
“Kaizaell!” the older man yelled again, getting closer then stopping as he gagged at the smell. The man was twenty meters away from them but still he had to take a moment to pause and adjust to the wretched smell. He seemed to decide something and stepped quickly closer, seeming to hold his breath as he did so, and hauled the young soldier to his feet. “Come on! Let’s get the hell out of here!”
The Sniper nodded, cradling Caniir in his arms and looking down at her. She had an extremely dazed expression, but she was still breathing even if it was in short shallow gasps. Whatever the thing had done to her hadn’t killed her, at least not yet.
The Sapper led them through the forests, taking the long way around as the howls began to get closer and closer. Not seeming to gain on them, but instead seeming to keep pace with them. It was unnerving hearing the voices and shrieks off in the distance, but never seeming to get any further away from the damned things.
They fled through the forests, trying to get towards a river they’d had to cross to get to the camp, hoping the flowing water would at least throw off the scent they were leaving behind for the things to follow them with.
“NO!” a woman’s voice cried behind them, making Kaizaell stop in his tracks for a moment, looking around the forest, trying to find the hapless person who had been met with these monstrous creatures in the woods. “Kyther! Save me!”
“Come on, kid,” the old man said, he’d turned around and grabbed the Sniper’s shoulder to bring him back to reality. “It’s too late. We need to move, dammit!”
“Y-yeah,” the young man said, beginning to run again after the Sapper.
The woman’s shrieking became a wail of pain, then suddenly, violently, stopped. The pair kept moving, hearing the rushing of water from the nearby river get louder as they approached. The howls and wails and inhuman screams behind them continued as they circled around them, growing ever closer with each passing heartbeat.
“Go!” the old man said with a growl, shoving the hazel eyed man towards the river banks. “We all won’t get across in time unless someone acts as bait.”
“What the hell are you-” the young man said, turning towards the older man before seeing him crash back into the bushes.
“COME ON YOU UGLY BASTARDS!” the old man screamed, a sizzling flash marking that he’d lit some of his chemical tubes on fire, to distract and taint the air and their scent. “IF YOU’RE THAT HUNGRY I’VE GOT A MEAL FOR YOU!”
The young man rushed down the bank, back towards the river. The old man was right, there was no way he and Caniir would make it across if the things found him in the river itself. He didn’t know if they could swim, but none of them wanted to risk it.
He wasn’t leaving the old man behind to die. He was doing his duty.
However, no matter how many times he repeated these words to himself they rang hollow in his ears.
The young man took some rope from his pack, strapping the catatonic enlil to his back and diving into the river, his light leathers much easier to swim in than the standard mail that was issued. Or at least that’s what he thought.
His clothes seemed to soak up the water greedily, quickly dragging him down until he compensated. He felt Caniir shift on his back, vaguely feeling her spit up and cough. She must have inhaled some of the river water, he grimaced as he attempted to keep them both above the currents, the deeper parts of the crossing coming up and going well above his head. Paddling like a madman he managed to keep them barely above water, and soon felt her coughing fit and breathing return to a normal, steady rhythm. He couldn’t relax yet, they were almost to the midway point of the river, and it would be a short trip if he missed the rocks near the center.
The river here was the strongest part, grasping at him like some ethereal beast trying to drag him and his partner under. A sudden moment of panic gripped him as he felt a river stone give under his boot, sending him spiraling under with his partner. The young man, having not taken a breath before getting dunked felt the fear grasp at his heart as he felt his feathery friend flail on his back. Somehow he managed to surface again, but he was much further down the river than he’d intended.
As the young soldier surfaced he felt, more than heard, a riotous shockwave go through the air, echoing deep in his bones, as a giant blooming ball of fire shot into the air where he had parted ways with the old Sapper. He grimaced, old feelings of guilt threatening to bubble forth before he managed to firmly grasp that particular serpent and lock it away. Now was not the time, the two of them still had to get back and report to the captain.
The rushing river was dragging them further and further down, they had already missed their point of the bank, and with the speed of the current by the time he made it to the other side they could be miles off of track. The young man gritted his teeth, cursing at Araevis, the Vis themselves, and any of the other ghostly beings that others called their patrons to give him the strength to reach the other side.
He’d made it a solid third of the across before a thundering noise that had been growing in intensity brought his attention forwards. He saw what looked like a plume of pure white mist further down and gulped as he realized what was happening. He was being dragged inexorably towards a fall.
Desperately, Kaizaell paddled towards the opposite shore as the current refused to let go of his sodden clothing. He refused to give up, and even prayed to Araevis again, this time without the usual cursing, to deliver him to the other side.
It seemed, however, to fall on deaf ears.
The orphan felt himself flung over the side of the cascade, falling, falling, felt himself crashing down with more and more speed, sure that this would be a fatal fall.
The last thing he did before hitting the bottom was curl in a ball with Caniir in the center to try and protect her from their fall. He felt himself strike the cold water with terrifying force, enough to make his bones creak as he hit, then blackness took him as he sunk deeper into the riverbed.