AHHHHHH!!!

AHHHHHH!!!

AHHHHHH!!!

Another series of ear-piercing cries bellowed beneath the storm of nimbus clouds, sending rumbles of thunder amid the boy’s agony and wake. 

Stormy, howling winds brewed and swept the area of his suffering, carrying violent and ominous pitch-black miasmas that shook the beasts to scurry deeper into the forest in sheer fright. 

Within a space a few hundreds of metres from the source, those who did not move were petrified. Whimpering while packed tightly in their dens, or simply already struck dead by the surging malevolent force. 

One touch was sufficient to draw the black curtains of eternal slumber.

Not even the dreaded demons in the neighbouring land were willing to investigate or step a foot closer, as they felt their very existence could not be compared to the being that was in havoc. 

However there were a few exceptions.

One of them was the man recognised to be the most powerful and strongest figure in the Pedlar Continent, the Demon Emperor. Although he did not make an appearance during the devastating Great War two years ago, if he had entered the field then mankind would have been driven to extinction. Nobody knew why he did not partake in the war.

It had been an hour since he had first noticed the strange tempestuous phenomenon. He had ordered his staunch followers to immediately set off and observe what was occurring. 

In response, the sudden change of their ruler’s attitude had caused incredulous reactions to surface, but they had diligently left to fulfill their duty.

Since then, he had not received a report. 

Had they encountered some form of trouble?

Or were they still in the middle of their investigation? 

However these thoughts were the least of his worries. 

A very pressing and important matter was occupying his mind.

 

***

 

The centre of destruction.

Apart from the razed foliage, fauna, and alike, there was a crater. 

While the crater was not large in diameter, which made it innocuous, from a bird’s perspective they would be bewildered and welled in unease. At a glance, one could see the cavity’s surfaces were unnaturally rugged, covered with millions of streaks. 

It was as though they were carved markings left behind by an apocalyptic centipede that had millions of claws attached to its limbs. 

Perhaps most frightening of all was its depth, which could not be measured unless one was brave enough to venture within. 

A boy at death’s door was crawling his way out of the crater. 

As his hoarse gasps echoed off across the surfaces of the walls, every limb was strenuously working to climb, digging themselves into the streaks to serve as footholders for his ascent. If it weren’t for these streaks, it would be impossible for him to climb, let alone get out. 

There were many times he appeared to have stopped to catch his breath.

But that was false. 

His movements were just terribly slow. 

From the beginning he had assumed control of his turbulent body, he forced himself as he endured the pain to climb out of the crater. 

He did not wish to rest here in a completely foreign place with unknown dangers until he found himself a temporary haven to alleviate himself from his berserk state. 

In fact, there was another reason. 

This was the perfect time to depart out of the hole.

Engulfing and radiating out his body was a pitch-black miasma, thinly fumed with tinges of purple. It looked fiendish, exuding out a fire that had been tainted by evil energy. 

The boy was capitalising the dark power as a fuel to maneuver his debilitated body that had long past the state of being able to move. 

Unfortunately, this only added more acute pain to his suffering because he was surpassing the limits to what he could handle. So each movement was very torturous, stimulating his heavy lidded eyes to bawl. 

But before the tears could form and arise, they were obliterated into nothingness. 

It was though he had not cried at all.

It was not strange at all to the boy in spite of the other alarming liquid that continued to leak out and mar his body. 

Almost there.

He took a glimpse at the vast night sky. 

Many dark grey clouds were floating high up in the air, heralding the possibility of another storm. If heavy rain were to fall, the boy would be put in much more of a pickle. 

Even a drizzle could potentially be harmful. 

Under normal circumstances, he would have thought of this, albeit what caught his greatest attention was the surreal unfamiliarity. 

This place is . . . ?

Where am I . . . ?

For a brief period of time, there was a change to the boy’s momentum as he seemed to sear the visage of the boundless sky into his sockets. 

Slowly, with a lowering of his head, he had stopped.

The shallow, hurried breaths gradually became silent. 

Though his thoughts remain unheard, the miasma covering his body spiked in ferocity, seething out his unreleased emotions. 

The boy’s feelings were portrayed by the manifestation. 

Cracks began to emerge from his perched bearing, his soiled tender fingernails and toes sank deeper into the earth. 

Crack!

The right side had succumbed to the pressure, and a chunk of crust was ripped from the crater face. 

Having no support on his right, the boy was snapped out of his daze. The sudden release of his right arm made the limb go limp from the relieved tension, threatening his suspended body to topple. 

As his head lolled back, he saw the black bottomless hole that he had once been in. 

NO!

I will not return there again! 

The boy’s mind jolted into concentration. It took him so long to reach up until this height. If he fell now, then the probability of dying was certain. 

With a sway of his body and a desperate thrust of his right arm, he launched himself towards the wall in order to keep himself from losing balance.

AGHR!

A groan cried out as he buried himself into the earth. Although he had successfully avoided the close call, his arm that was jammed back in had fractured. Most concerning of all, was the boy’s head had performed an unintended headbutt, smashing his skull into the thick wall. 

 

***

 

After the passing of what seemed like an eternity, he tiredly wormed his injured head out into the open. Deep red blood could be seen profusely cascading down from his forehead, accompanied with a surge of dizziness that did not want to go away.

Not good.

He was still aching from the insurmountable pain and his distressed, unhinged mind was further stirred into muddlement. To make matters worse, from time to time, his eardrums would ring in clamour, making it difficult to hear.

Thankfully, his hearing impairment was one of the senses that would not play much use in his precarious predicament. Hence, he at least did not need to worry about that part. 

However, he had to accelerate his climb, right at this moment, as it was inevitable that he would fall unconscious sooner or later. 

HRRAAAA!

Roaring, the boy shot up the crater face. Without a moment of rest, he vigorously climbed the damn wall. He was a savage olympian pushed to the brink. Using his dead limbs, he clawed his way through the scarred terrain. On his arduous journey, chunks of rocks and sediment were thrashed out of their places. 

It’s painful. 

It’s painful.

IT’S SO PAINFUL

As his body moved, the innards and skin shrieked and oozed out with sweat and blood. 

Unbidden tears flowed down from his droopy dark-brown eyes, dirtying and mixing with his bloody face. 

Mysteriously, these drops of clear secreted liquid were not obliterated by the miasma.

It was a testament of this boy’s intense struggle, herculean effort, and exceptional will to survive. 

Almost there!

Trees and foliage can be partially seen. 

He was finally able to peek out, dipping into the cold as enchanting silvery rays of the moon fluoresced upon him.

The whole world was beckoning him and stretching their hands out to embrace him. 

The finish line could be touched. 

So close!!

Swinging his upper-half, he slung his entirety to the hard ground . . . 

 

***

 

“Awwww Little Red Riding Hood, you can’t keep running forever! Bloody Bad Wolf’s hunger is reaching her limit~”

The voice of the grim reaper rang out from the depths of the forest. 

When it reached her ears, her heart was given a fright. The distance between her and that scary psycho was not too far nor short. And yet, that rhythmic, cheery voice replayed as a whisper in her ears like an asmr horror recording. 

Her steps were injected with a spooky adrenaline, quickening her steps in hopes of escaping the game of cat and mouse. 

How ironic.

The game continues. 

Her prey-like actions accentuates the thrill of the game.

Pure, haunting laughter resounded from afar. 

The psycho knows.

Why can’t I run away from that psychopath?! 

How do I get rid of her?

I should have listened to Papa and Mama.

I shouldn’t have gone too deep into the forest.

I should have been a good girl and stayed at home.

The girl’s grip tightened, turning her fingers white, squeezing the white talisman with black inscriptions in her delicate hands. Unknowingly, it had already been squashed and bent out of shape multiple times since her encounter with that woman.

It was good that the talisman was a high-quality craft, ensuring its durability. 

This talisman was one of the few rare instant teleportation tools available in this continent and was received by her doting Papa’s love and protection. By using this, she had managed to temporarily shake off her tail. But it was to no avail, as she was later discovered again to be ticketed on board the nightmare train. 

I have already used two.

This is my last one.

I have to use it wisely, or else she will catch me.

Her eyes captured a new scenery before she had realised it. 

As she ran, she saw carcasses and entrails strewn in all places of the disordered path. 

Plants and trees as well were in a complete wreckage.

The whole absurdity of this scene rendered her mind to blank out, albeit the legs continued to move. 

She could no longer fathom where she was anymore. At this point, the landscape should be like her own backyard. 

Taking a deeper breath in the middle of her run, she braced herself and let her instincts and memory guide her.

A clearing . . . ?

Did such an open area like this exist? I really hope I didn’t go off track.

“Hyayayayayaya. What is all this? I don’t remember blowing this many houses down? So brutal! So bloody! So lovely! Who did this? Was it the Demon Emperor? Or was it that other monster?”

The madwoman was impelled with ecstasy from seeing such a delightful scenery. She hadn’t seen such beautiful gardens on the scale of this for quite a while. It reminded her of the Great War of two years ago where she feasted off isolated groups to satisfy her voracious appetite for murder. 

So unfortunate that these are beast carcasses and not human corpses. Oh well! Whoever created this work of art must be somebody who shares the same interests as me. 

“Hyayayayaya!” Upon her thought, she let loose another ‘girlish’ giggle from her red lips. 

The mouse’s legs continued to scamper. 

The poisonous woman sounded very close. 

Curiously in fear, she rotated her head to her behind.

She screamed. 

She saw the psycho’s cheeks widen, revealing her dimples and that horrifying smile of a serial killer. 

Immediately, she turned her eyes away into the dark and sprinted with all of her might. 

The distance between them had grown larger.

However.

It was inevitable that she would end up stumbling from her lack of awareness and sight. 

A yelp was uttered as her legs had tripped over.

Her eyes were scorched open.

Newfound pain showered her body. 

It felt unbearable to the extent of wanting to cry. 

In front of her eyes was some sort of abomination. 

Her body uncontrollably shivered, sending danger alarms to ring on an unprecedented spectrum. 

Absolutely dangerous. 

Hundredfold more dangerous than the psychotic grim reaper. 

She had no idea what was going on. 

But what she did know was—

She was falling. 

 

***

 

Darkness.

Darkness.

Overwhelming darkness. 

Then, he felt a powerful natural force push him.

“Phfwargh”

Flecks of blood blotched vomit accompanied his heavy gasp of breath.

The boy’s eyes slowly opened.  

He was facedown on the ground, but his face seemed to have avoided the floor. And so his head was on an angle. A dripping noise reached his eardrums. 

It was the sound of blood dribbling down from his open mouth. The blood was slowly forming a red pool beside him. 

None of this caught his attention.

Although he couldn’t see clearly, a blurry image of what appeared to be quite a young girl stood a short distance away. 

Her shoulders were hunched over, and her slim arms were closed like a hermit crab. She tilted her head left and right, and took a deep breath as though she was mustering up her courage. 

She approached.

Her footsteps were light and timid, watching him through skittish wide eyes.

Daringly, she slowly crouched down and gazed at him. The exquisite, dark purple, gothic dress of hers gently and scantily touched the floor. The hem of her dress perfectly steered clear from the blood. 

There was silence.

"Are you one of them as well?" the girl slowly asked, dispelling the brief silence. 

Her voice was shaky.

The boy gulped his bloody saliva remains in his mouth and tried to speak, but instead, a groan was vocalised. 

She repeated once more, "Are you one of them as well?"

“ . . .”

The lack of a response made her wary until a light bulb turned on above her head. She realised that he probably couldn’t speak. As a result, she changed her question.

“Do you know who I am? If you don’t know, shuffle your body.”

Promptly, the boy followed her suggestion. It hurt. 

Okay. So this boy is probably not one of them then. Even if he is, I really can’t run anymore, so I can only try to negotiate. 

Afterwards, she took a closer inspection at his body. 

It wasn’t the first time seeing, essentially, a body of a dead human. While he wasn’t exactly dead, the state of his condition was exceptionally gruesome and hideous. 

For him to be alive at this point, he must have the constitution of a hero or a body consolidator. She doubted that an item could let him survive this long. 

The girl’s inspection could not continue for longer, however, due to the ominous pitch-black miasma, thinly fumed with tinges of purple threatening her.  

While the girl wouldn’t know, the miasma was much different from before. The miasma was now very pale as though it was a flame on the brink of dissipating. Despite so, without even taking a glimpse, she could still feel her hairs standing on end and the aura of death tingling the back of her spine.

Just as she wished to tip toe away . . .

“Ta, ta, ta . . .”

The girl froze. 

A suffocating, dreadful tension descended.

Although she was frozen in fear, her heart and her entire being began to thump and shiver like crazy. 

The boy watched her quietly as he saw her legs wobbled. She appeared so fragile that one light touch will cause her to collapse.  

Tick tock.

Passing seconds ticked the hands of the clock. 

Slowly, but steadily, the volume of the eerie voice deliberately grew louder.

"Ta, ta, ta, ta ta ta ta taa . . .”

“Ta, ta, ta, ta ta ta ta . . . "

"DAAAAA!" 

FLASH!

All of a sudden, the once dark forest was now filled with hundreds of gleaming lights. It was glaringly apparent that these lights are not just for show of welcome. 

No.

Perhaps this was a show? 

Revealed under the spotlight were the boy and the girl. 

One hundred lights. 

And within the dark forest, they appeared to partially conceal their lethal identities.

But it was only partially. 

After all there were so many of them. The moonlight was unneeded to reveal their natures to light.

The boy saw.

The girl saw.

They saw those lustred, sharp, steely objects shimmering. 

Tools of slaughter: weapons.

Knives;

Daggers;

Swords;

Axes;

Spears; 

Lances; 

Tridents;

And the list goes on . . . 

"Ah . . . Ah . . . "  

Gasps of fear were leaked out of her mouth, and her legs gave out, splaying her legs into a V shape.

“H-How . . . the the last time we fought . . . you you only used t-ten weapons. A-And . . . the enchantments are not blue!! Why are they—”

“Red? Hyayayayayaya.” The psycho finished her sentence in mirth. “I am sure that Little Red Riding Hood can figure the answer to that question. Ahhhhh I was ordered to capture you, but it’s such a waste not to kill you here. I haven’t been able to use so many weapons in such a long time. In fact, I have reached a new record. I will have to thank you for that demon boy.” She shifted her gaze to the boy. 

“You know what I can’t wait to do besides to kill you?” 

“W-What . . . ?” the girl asked reflexively. 

“To see and hear the reactions of me having already killed you—Princess!”

More laughter.

The girl grimaced in utmost fear. 

She was going to die. 

She was going to die. 

A clean death would be all she could ask for. 

Haha! Yeah right, not with this PSYCHOPATH!

Drowning in despair, she heard a voice. No, a whisper. 

“Do not resign yourself to death . . .”

It came from the boy.

“I need . . . medicine. I need aid. I need . . . healing.”

Stupor was written all over her face.

“. . . Hurry.”

“But it probably won’t—Ah whatever!”

She still had a few healing items left in her inventory, but almost all of them would be ineffective for his use. His wounds were simply too severe, continuing to leak blood, and he was literally sitting on the verge of death.

Looking at the item in her hand, she felt a twinge of regret. But shook it off in an instant and hurriedly scooted and lowered herself to him. 

This is!!!  The boy’s eyes widened with shock from the pill she had in her hand.

Before she could tell him to take it, the boy flopped his head towards her open hand, gobbling up the dark green pill.

The girl felt her palm go ticklish, and promptly she aided his swallowing. The thought of pets occurred to her mind.

“Barely sufficient.” 

Following the hoarse voice, the boy began to rise himself up in a staggered manner.

“No way . . . but your wounds are not . . .”

He didn’t answer. 

What she gave him was a simple regenerative pill. It couldn’t be considered anything of value contrary to what the girl thought. In fact, it had been so long ago since he had last used it. 

How nostalgic.

To think this pill will once again save me from the jaws of death.

If it was the him of before, then this would not be enough to outdo the rate of death. 

But now . . . 

The boy stood up. 

The flaming-looking miasma was still as pale as before. Its rate of recovery was too slow to be perceived by the naked eye.

And though he had finally gone numb to the feeling of pain, he knew that every movement was liable to call upon his death. 

He could ask the woman to spare him. 

He could kill the girl who just saved him as an offering to let him go.

He could just resign himself and let it all end.

However, that last choice was something that not death itself would allow.

So the boy stood his ground.

With a sincere but conspicuously ugly look, he turned his head to the girl and said:

“Thank you.” “However, please leave this to me— —You will be a nuisance,” he added.

“Hyayayayayayayay demon kid is acting like a stuck-up hero in front of the Princess. Did you hear that? Did you hear that? You are a nuisance!! Hyaayayayayaya!”

“N-Nuisance?! I can show you otherwise. I am—”

“AGGGGHRRR!!”

The boy let out a piercing war cry. 

Walking like a zombie, arms dangling down, he lumbered to the woman wielding a hundred levitating swords. Canals of blood continued to seep down, splattering the floor. 

Unfazed by her taunt and mockery gestures, he forged onwards. 

In his eyes, she was nothing. However due to his condition, he was forced to take her seriously.

It angered him.

If he died to this woman, being a laughingstock would be an ideal outcome. 

So that would mean nobody had expectations from the beginning.

One sword flew towards him.

Sloppily, he turned his body.

He dodged it.

Two axes pointed one face of their sharp axe-head and vertically rolled towards him. 

Sloppily, he turned his body.

He dodged it.

Four tridents one from each corner of the collection of weapons shot towards him.

Sloppily, he turned his body.

He somehow dodged it.

“Hyayayayayay you have some skill! That’s good! That’s good! Entertain me! Entertain me!”

Ten weapons soared through the air, aligning themselves and converged like missiles to their trajectory.

Twisting his body, he effortly weaved between the missiles. 

He dodged. 

But with a price of being impaled by five deadly, sharp weapons. 

The girl jumped in fright and wanted to shut her eyes from the macabre event. “Please no more!!” she yelled out, tears in her eyes. 

Halted from the stabbing, he coldly cast a fleeting glance to the fallen weapons from before as they crept slowly in preparation to jump at him again. 

“Does it hurt? It must hurt! Want to take a break?” Crackling her neck, the psycho doused herself in enjoyment until an odd epiphany sprung to her mind. Huuh? My weapons can’t absorb his blood?

“AGGGGHRRR!!”

“Waaaaa—scarrrry boyyy.” The psycho comically, one leg flailing in the air, evaded the sudden sloppy tackle from the boy. Though it did take her by surprise, his movements were sloth-like. Anybody could avoid it.

Flared by his attack failing to reach its target, he continued to bulldoze himself to the psycho while brandishing his debilitated arms.

“Overrrr hereeee!” 

“Ovvvver heeere!” 

“Noooot thereeee!”

“Slowwwwwpokeeeeeeeee!”

As he continued to swing, the boy’s movements became duller and slower. 

The miasma was the same, losing its vigour and becoming pale to the point that one wouldn’t even know its original colour was black. He looked like a boy in the process of having his spirit leave the world to the afterlife. 

The girl couldn’t bear to watch. He hadn’t even landed a single blow. Determined to take his place, she was already running to protect him. 

“Demon bodies sure are tough! Your HP is in the super red! But your life is not going down! Hyayayayyayayay!” The weapons on standby too began to jovially bob up and down as if to express their controller’s delight. 

“. . . forbidden . . . shadow.”

 

 

“. . . forbidden . . . shadow art . . . shadow’s . . .”

 

 

“Aaaawww it looks like game time is almost over.” The psycho sadly pursed her lips. She ambled along, reaching the boy’s side, tilting her head, peeking to see the yummy face. 

 

 

“I can’t heaarrrr you. If you are not deaddd yettt, please speak up.” After her words, she casually aimed another artillery to pierce into his body.

The boy almost toppled over.  

“. . . forbidden . . . shadow.”

Stab! 

The psycho had picked up a random knife from the air and then personally stabbed at his hip. Without a delay, she slid it out in the next second. 

Stab! 

She did it again.

 

 

“You are the perfect torture toy!! I think I’m starting to love you!”

Throwing away her knife, she took another weapon from her collection and was about to repeat again when an interruption caused her to stop mid-flight. 

“NO MOREEE!!!”

The demoness turned and faced the weak girl. Then, she took a glimpse of the boy and then back to the girl.

“Okaay.”

The girl had a fantastic expression on her face.

“I said okayyy. Did youuu nott hear me?”

“R-Really . . . ?”

“Yess!!! And because I’m in such a lovely mood I can spare you too,” she paused. “Just take my place and slice him a bit ^.^”

Silence.

Complete utter silence. 

The ridiculousness of the situation robbed the girl’s ability to speak. 

After a short while, the psycho shrugged her shoulders. “Well if you don’t want to play doll with me Princess then . . .”

“. . . forbidden . . . shadow art . . . shadow’s . . . immolation.” 

 

 

. . .

. . .

 

F̴̡̨̙̗̝͎̮̫̲̀̌̐̐Ȱ̷͕͔̮͍͊̉̏Ŗ̵̛͎̝͇̹̰̖̟̪̻̞͔̣̄͆̾̋B̶̛͉̯̰͚̼̭̲͍̈̽̒͘̕Ï̸͚͚͗̈͌̂̏D̸̡̨͔̠͙̘̹̞̯̪͈̓͗͗̈̚͜D̵͙̰͉̻̩̹̭͚́͆͑͗̂͋́͊͂͛Ë̴̪̞̳̰͕͉̬͓́͐̀͐̊́͌͌͜N̵̨̤̰̝̼̜̥̭̪̑̇͗̏̾̐͗̎͋͆͆́ ̴̧̢̱͍̯̠͙̪̠͂́̽̓͗̓̿͋̚̚͝S̸̪̮̰̟̜̣̠͖̞͐H̵̢͉͙̬̩̤̬̻̲̩͑̿͒̆̓͠͝A̸̢̻̹̰̘̯̥̺̤̗̓́̅̐́̅̏̈͆̚D̴̲̪̃͆̈́̇͑͝Ȯ̴̯̙̓̈́́̏̈͐͠͝͝W̴̡̹̥͎̠̪̖̹̭̳̻̙͕͑̿̒̒̄̓̎̓͛̌͘ ̴͎̠͍̬̤͎̯̭̃̉͗̇̉̑̉̅̏͜A̸͖̥̱̞̫̿͂̍͌͗͠R̵̖̙̖͉̝͕͈͕̼̃͊̽̇̊͋̑̊̎̇́͝T̴̙̫̱̣̻͕͈͍̹̄̇̾̎̿̀̓̅̈́̓͜͠:̵̡̢̫̭͕̙͍̳͙͕̘͗̃́̓̒̓͗̐ͅͅ ̷̨̋̏̈̒̀̉̑̂̀͂͋̒̚S̸̡̧̧̮̤̗͍̪̹̖͌Ḩ̴̡̢̥̜̬̞͕͖͙̟̹̜̒Ą̴̢̧̥͉͕͓̩̻̜͇͊́͗͌͘̚͝D̶͇̰̤̬̲͍̭̘̂̇̎̐͂̓̀̆̎̏̓̎Ơ̵͎̟̲̜̺͚̤̿̿̽̐̏̈̐̂͂̉ͅW̸̧͇͍̺͇̫͙͕̗͐̽̕̚͠ͅ’̶̨̡̯͉̽̌̎̆̉̓̍̔̉̚͠Ṡ̶͖̥͇̙͔͔̑̿̉ͅͅ ̶̛̮̗̬̉̌̃͜Ỉ̵̢͎̗̪̥̼͚̟̬̘͖̻̭̈́M̷̫̯͓̼̮̗̜̫͆̀̈́̃̂̈́͠M̷̬̘̟̪̘͎̓͂̚O̷̫̊͋̀̒̈́̈́̇̀̿̈́̕̕͝Ĺ̶̢̖͐͛̽̽́̄A̸̡̪̙͔͈̝͖̜̓́̏̆̔̍̅̆T̶̡̨̢̛̺͖͎̜͆̇͑̄̌͝I̵̱̠̻͓̦̩͍̻͚̓̆̉̀̈́̔̑͗̎͒͘͠O̴͇̗͇̝͇̐̈́ͅŇ̴̖̠̙͚͛͒͋̃̆̀͝ ̵̖̫̭͉̭͖͓͖̄̓͗̈́͆͛͗̓͝

 

!!!

An inconceivable, frightened yelp came from the psycho as she jumped away.  

Both girls froze dead in their tracks. 

Their bodies were shivering as though they had met the scariest being in existence.

They heard something . . . something extremely deranged. 

It was a sound that is impossible to have been produced by a human, or demon, or a beast for that matter. 

Just . . .

What the FUCK was THAT.

They’re boggling eyes were drawn to the floor. 

The boy was there.

Screams shattering the night.

He was madly convulsing like he was having an intense, excruciating seizure. 

Rolling and thrashing on the mundane, cold floor, he was seen gripping his chest tightly, gasping for life.

Like a fish who had been thrown into a boiling desert.

The tears in his blooded, burnt apparel were ripped further apart. 

At this point, he appeared even more haggard than the worst beggar.

As the insanity continued, the pale spirit blazed in colour, saturating at an immensely accelerating rate.

What maybe was the most incomprehensible fact was that all of the blood leaking out his body had halted. It was as though the pipe drains had a blockage. 

Then.

There was silence.

Steadily, the boy sprouted from the soil. 

They can tell from his movements that he was still as fragile as before.

Yet, the paradox shows that he could stand despite the state of his incapacitated body.

He was a dead boy walking.

Silently, like a cougar on the prowl, he walked towards the psycho.

The psycho, still shuddering, leapt backwards post-haste. 

I have to kill him I have to kill him

I have to kill him I have to kill him

I have to kill him I have to kill him

Her honed instincts from blood and slaughter are screaming at her. 

You have to kill him.

Running away was not an option.

Unhesitantly, she poured all of her strength onto her collection of weapons. Activating every skill and ability she had in her arsenal.

The weapons that had attacked him before struck at him, impaling him. 

[Your attacks have been nullified.]

Her eyes quivered in shock. 

The weapons are clearly lodged inside of him!  

She hurried her next bombardment of attacks.

 

 

Twenty seven weapons crazily flung themselves like nukes to annihilate the enemy.

 

 

More attacks.

 . . .

 . . .

Why are my attacks not working?! Why are my attacks not working?!

Why are my attacks not working?!!  Why are my attacks not working?!!!

She saw her eyes crossover with that young boy who looked no older than twelve. 

Is he the Demon Emperor? 

Is he the Devil himself? 

What is that Monster?!!

Biting her tongue in grievance, she coldly cried, “Monster! You're bloody dead.”

“Bloody Arts: Beasts’s Return—”

Rumble.

Rumble.

Rumble.

The air began to tense, and an odour of heavy death descended. 

Out of thin air, a thick, bloody-red haze formed, entrapping the boy.

Weapons not lodged in the body of the boy rose from the ground, howling.

The weapons surging in red energy had turned vigorous.

These discordant sounds were remnants; the spiritual essence, you could say, originated from the doses of blood sucked by the weapons from the respective dead beasts. 

Now seemingly more life-like, containing a ghastly beast inside of the weapons. Above each weapon, a vague contour of the beast was constructed, aided by the bloody-red haze.

They were truly untamed beasts as they screeched and wriggled uncontrollably, but guided by the bloody-red haze, they were led to encircle the boy.

“—Death Impalement!”

With a cry shattering their previous screeches, the beast’s were consumed in madness. Their destructive aura and brandishing caused chaotic havoc to erupt in the deathly, red haze. 

 . . .

 . . .

Once the last cry was uttered, the bloody-red haze gradually dispersed. 

The psycho watched in crazed laughter, hanging her head onto her left shoulder. 

And then something appeared before her eyes.

 

 

She was stricken by sheer disbelief.

She mindlessly stared at the shadow that emerged from the haze.

She wanted to scream, but . . .

Instead, what was heard by the world was a frail girl being choked.

That girl was her.

Her lungs pumped desperately to gasp for breath.

While her eyes looked as though they were going to be popped out of their sockets, starkly glaring at her nightmare.  

Yet, the boy’s grip was so unimaginably strong that she couldn’t even reach her arms out towards her throat. 

She could only flail about.

He was holding her up with one arm in the air, gasping for breath like a tired dog with its tongue out. 

Who was the one needing air?

“Perish.”

She was utterly terrified. 

The sounds of her throat being crushed and breaking made her shed tears from the excruciating pain and her fright.

In her mind, she did her utmost best to concentrate and begged for her weapon skill to activate.

Chanting the words, “Bloody explosion.”

The boy’s instincts caught on something coming.

Unwilling to risk the unknown, his grip loosened.

BOOM!

Before the boy’s eyes, a bloody splash erupted and he actually leapt back.

As for the psycho, she fucking dipped it out of there in a blink of an eye. 

Running away faster than the wind could touch her.

She had sacrificed her sacred, favourite weapon that was equipped to her side.

Her whole body was in critical condition from the impact. 

Agonising pain blistered. 

But not a second was dallied from her injuries.

She did not remotely take a peek from her behind either. 

The god of death could be felt without the need of eyes. 

Her instincts and weeping body just shrieked her to run. 

She pulled out a teleportation talisman.

She activated it.

She was now far away.

But instead of taking a moment to catch her breath, she continued to run.

Why?

Because he was right behind her tail.

And the matter of truth was—

The boy had already caught up to her teleportation by pure legs alone. 

The game of cat and mouse.

Who would’ve thought that a day would come where the roles were reversed.

 

***

 

Although she had been caught up with the escalation of events, the Princess had not remained idle after their sudden departure.

She had the opportunity to go the opposite way.

However instead, she foolishly followed the tracks of the two of them.

As she traversed through the dark forest, she ruminated her actions and everything that had happened so far. 

Finding trails of the two were difficult. 

There was no convenient blood trail that should have been marked.

And there were times where there were no signs of passing. 

It was as if the world was telling her to give up and go back home.

Papa and Mama are going to be very angry . . .

 . . .

 . . .

Eventually, she came across him. 

As a matter of fact, she had almost wandered past him and had only noticed him from the very corner of her eye. 

That was how much presence he had. 

She approached with caution. 

He laid there on his back, many weapons still impaled, gazing up at the grey night sky.

She could feel it. 

He was yearning. 

Yet, it appeared as though the world itself had rejected him. 

She aligned her sight to where he was staring.

Everything was dull, grey, and dark. 

There was no light.

But within the canopy, she could just make out one spot where it appeared slightly less dark than the rest.

It was moonlight, just a sliver of it, hidden through the continuous layers of foliage.

A silly premonition of what this entails occurs to her juvenile mind. 

She shook her head to shake it off, but when she approached closer a surge of despondence consumed her. 

She knew what was going to happen next.

All of the fear in her heart vanished. 

Not even smoke remained.

She anguished at herself. 

She hated herself for being useless. 

Even though she knew this was bound to happen, the very fact that he saved her, a stranger, made everything seem so ridiculous to her. 

She did not remove the weapons in fear of escalation. 

All she could do was give the boy some sense of warmth. Rather than subject him to the cold, crude floor.

She held him in her arms, tightly embracing him. 

She looked at him, and his eyes were on her. 

Their eyes lingered on one another. 

While the girl was pensive, the boy had his mind drifted elsewhere. His crumbling gaze was just inadvertently drawn to the girl. 

"Hey . . . I never managed to get your name . . . how silly am I . . . What is your name?" 

The boy did not seem to hear her. 

Blood was not the sole liquid that trickled down. 

Unwilling tears flowed down the river track.

As the tears mixed with the blood, they desperately fought to overturn the red tide: a reflection of the boy's desire to live. 

Unfortunately, no matter how many tears were spent, it could not reverse his fate. 

The liquid continued. 

Continued to dye blood red.   

Not hearing a response, the girl's awareness jolted into shape. 

Brimmed with tears, she noticed through her glossy eyes that the boy was finally shedding, akin to herself. As soon as she saw him, her heart felt immense pain. 

He looks so . . . so . . . so . . . horrible. A cheeky face? No, that face is nothing remotely like that.

It was not a face that can be scrutinised. 

At most, one would only be able to derive the agonising and vigorous emotions exuded to the world. 

It was a blend of great derision, utter regret, and beggarly guilt. 

Then, she heard him speak. 

She was centimetres away from him. 

But she was unable to catch his words, spoken so low, as they were murmured under his remaining breaths.  

"My name . . ."

"—Ahh?? Yes!" She leaned her ear, touching his soft lips. 

She could hear him.

It was a miracle that she had managed to discern his words. 

". . ."

". . . The name . . . yes, hmmm it is . . . Dalis." 

"I see . . . My name is . . ."

But before the girl could tell her name, the light in his eyes faded, leaving behind despair. 

The little trace of moonlight in the forest disappeared. 

Only silence and darkness remained. 

At the very least, he was eased a little, just a little from the girl's presence. 

 

***

 

At a particular time. 

At a particular place.

At a particular moment. 

A girl's cries could be heard weeping for a long time. 

At times there were screams of hate towards a particular someone.

At other times it was lamented to the person she was screaming for.

And finally—

Screams of self-degradation. 

. . .

. . .

After a long period of time had passed.

The cries were no longer heard.

"I am disgusted at myself for doing this . . . but this will serve as a memento to me."