Scars {The Weeping Monk}

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{Cursed imagine}

{This imagine contains SPOILERS for the end of Cursed so if you have not seen the last episode, then I recommend not reading this!}

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He was completely surrounded by Trinity guards. They took turns swinging their weapons at him, causing him to grow weaker by the second. Both of his swords were knocked from his grasp, leaving him to shield his face with his hands from the violent blows. He fell to his knees, unable to.

Squirrel watched from behind a few barrels as the Weeping Monk took the violent beating. One of the Trinity guards took a final swing, knocking him straight to the ground. They closed in their circle around him, one guard picking the Monk up by his shoulder, pulling down the hood of his cloak, revealing his battered and bloody face.

Just before the guard could do any more damage to the Monk, an arrow was shot right through the guard's shoulder, sending him fumbling backward. Everyone was caught by surprise, trying to find where the mystery arrow had come from. Squirrel seized this opportunity and came out from behind the barrels, grabbing a sword from the ground.

The brave little boy stood his ground, scared out of his mind, but determined to save the Weeping Monk. "Who's first?" He shouted, holding the blade out in front of himself. One Trinity guard began taking small steps towards the boy, when another arrow was shot, hitting another right in the chest. Squirrel looked in the direction the arrow was coming from, only to see a girl who stood not too far from them, holding a bow.

The girl ran from her place beside the tent, draping the bow over her shoulders and taking out a sword of her own. She ran toward the guard and began to swing, taking them out instantly. This gave the Monk enough time to pick up his own sword and start slaughtering them.

Together, he and the mystery girl stabbed and decapitated the Trinity guards that surrounded them.

"Watch out!" She'd yell, just before she'd slice one's neck over the Monk's head. It gave him enough time to dodge her swing.

After much blood was spilled, the last guard had fallen. To be sure that one was 100% dead, the girl walked over and picked up his limp body, snapping his neck. Squirrel still stood by the barrels, amazed by what he had just witnessed. 

The Weeping Monk weakly held up his sword and pointed it towards Abbott, warning him. Abbott slowly backed away with a blank expression, turning back towards the tents.

The girl rushed to the Monk's side as he fell to his knees, weak from the blood loss and exhausted from the battle. Squirrel rushed from his place at the barrels to help him up.

"Come on young one, grab his arm, that's it." The girl strained towards the boy as she threw the weak Monk's arm over her shoulder, trying to hold him up. Squirrel helped as best as he could, holding up his torso as the girl led them through the camp.

"Just a little further," she said, weakened herself. She was heading towards some horses that were next to a tent. "Can you ride by yourself boy?" She found herself asking him. "Not sure the three of us could fit on one horse."

Although Squirrel didn't appreciate her calling him 'young one' or 'boy,' there was no time to argue.

"Yes, I can m'lady." He replied.

"Alright then, help me get him up." She said as they approached the horses. The Weeping Monk reached his hands out and grabbed onto the saddle, hoisting himself up as the girl and Squirrel helped push him up.

Once he was up, the young boy climbed onto the horse next to them before the girl pulled herself onto the same horse as the Monk. He wrapped his arms around her waist to ensure that he stayed on the steed. She turned towards the young boy next to her and sent him a nod, telling him that it was time for them to move.

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