Chapter 271: The Tears of Madness
320 3 10
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

The madness never stops, friend. It never does.

He didn’t want this madness. Yes, this madness, this curse that all bleak walkers have, it will devour us. Our eyes were a gift and a curse to the bleak walkers, in battle we are unmoving, uncaring, and we will not be able to stop until all of us find the place and peace to die.

Tell me, friend.

What compels you into action?

What force spurs you to battle?

What did you abandon to harden?

To be unfaltering in the face of your enemies.

Friend, what did you to make yourself so hard?

You are breaking friend, the cracks of madness are flowing.

Tell me, Nolan Salvatore, outsider, what makes you live on?

“I live for nothing!”

He cried as the illusions of the dead came to him. So many faces, and yet he could not remember their names, forever lost, and forever abandoned to the whims of time.

“How many eternities will it take for you to find peace, friend?”

The laughing did not stop. The arrows that lost their color shot at them. He stared at the enemies. The enemies showed their horror through the sheer terror that they sat when their eyes saw Amadan’s eyes.

“Something is wrong with his eyes! Don’t look at his direction!” Zula shouted. “Damn you!”

She pulled her gigantic sword and targeted Amadan’s head. Amadan stared straight into her eyes, freezing her movements, and made her turn screaming in fear. Amadan squeezed his eyes in hopes that it would go away. The pain in his eyes did not disappear. The color of the world became faint.

Amadan took a step back and launches a kick on Zula’s cheek. She immediately got knocked out. “Leader!” He heard someone shout. He took off, vaulted through obstacles, and avoided the tree branches. His eyes burned to the point that he felt something wet his cheeks.

Arriving in a dense area filled with tall grasses and trees. Amadan found himself staggering. The ghosts of the dead, their voices, and their faces followed him. Behind him were a legion of the dead, staring at him, some had murder in their eyes, while the rest were that of pity and sadness.

Amadan crawled inside this hollow. It was a place where he could only rest his head on the wall. He could hear the wing-beats of beasts and the footsteps of people trudging through the grasses. He kept his mouth shut and closed his eyes. It didn’t matter when he closed his eyes. It was simply maddening. All these ghosts and memories colliding inside his head.

Why do we live? A voice pleaded. Ah, why do we live when we already fought with all our might? How many times, how many eternities will it take for us to have a rest? Ah, all the friends that I have to leave behind. I can’t even remember her anymore, our little sis, she’s alone out there, and we can’t find her.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

She must be afraid inside that well, what if she drowns again? I don’t know, hey, what’s the date? Ah, are we really out of the loop?

The voice whispered.

“I’m going mad,” Amadan said weakly.

I was left alone in that dungeon, ah, it hurt so much, why didn’t I cry? Being turned into a flesh battery by those monsters, I can still feel them ripping away all the energy inside of me. Being tired and energized again and again. Oh Lord, why does it hurt so much? Lanon whispered. His voice sounded younger.

The rain fell. The ghosts stood in the tall grasses, their dead eyes staring into Amadan. They died while we live, we always live, they call it a blessing, but it is not oh God, why can’t we have any mercy. Oh Lord, it hurts, why did we think to be so hard? It hurts, oh God, why does it hurt so much now?

The ghosts started screaming. A million voices that sounded like him simultaneously cried, drowning out of the rain, the drops hitting on the ground and the leaves being rustled by the rain. Amadan covered his ears, yet the shouting of the ghosts, and the weeping of a million of his voices.

“Oh God, make it stop, what is happening?” Amadan asked.

The memories flooded and collided into his head. So many memories and his head couldn’t take it. They all crashed and collided, his heart hurt like it was a being smashed repeatedly by a hammer. Like hammer blows that held no mercy!

Death is mercy, Lanon whispered. A mercy we can’t seem to have. Oh, it must have been nice, to be returned home like that. Ah, how could he have left us behind, why did he have to return and leave his fragments? Ah, it hurts, it’s so painful mother, why can’t it just stop?

Lanon wept. The teenager who was sent into an unknown world, the scared kid who couldn’t believe why he was sent into a different world, the kid who didn’t know what to do, the kid who begged, the kid who wanted to find meaning, and the kid who wished for a place of peace; only for that wish to be shattered by the dying of the light.

The kid who was forcibly shoved deep inside his head.

The kid wept loudly that it could ever have done.

The million voices of those who had died. The maddening sound of his voices crying inside his head, whether due to anguish, madness or utter despair. They all cried together as if to deafen Amadan’s ears. He could not tell what was wrong or what was happening. All he could think and hear was the voices. The despair, the bottled-up fear finally flowed into his heart.

The rusted steel broke apart so easily. Amadan couldn’t bear the pain, the anguish, the maddening voice of the kid who had been shoved deep inside his head.

Oh Lord, please, let this be a place where we had escaped. God, please, don’t make me meet her again, Lanon whispered madly, weeping as he does.

10