The Ouiums Journey: Hell Broke Loose (book 1)

Chapter 39

The sharp pains persisted, and the dull ache that was lethargy hung thickly over me like a dense cloud. A force rattled my body, and nausea reached me for a short moment; I braced myself for what was to come.

Barely able to move a single muscle without the painful reminder of what had just happened, I crawled to my feet as gently as I could and hissed at a painful stagger. My entire body was next to numb with weariness, and my attempt at standing just resulted in my legs collapsing beneath me.

What is the reason to carry on? Why should I? It feels like there is nothing left for me. Weak, exhausted, agonised. What reason is there?

It would be better if I could just stay there, laying on the floor forever. It was all I could do. It was all I would do.

Looking in a mixture of awe and disgust at the structure before me, I felt dizziness well up inside me. I was getting cold, and my breathing began to slow. My head swayed about on my neck, and I watched as the colour was drained from the scene around me as everything blurred. My breath was the only thing I could hear, even as it slowed.

A demon's screeching woke me. I opened my eyes, and nausea flooded back to me, but I sat up and looked around, dazed.

Where am I? What is this place?

It took a moment for everything to flood back to me—I shuddered as I remembered what I'd just fought, and the fight that was to come. The foul, pungent stench was sickening, and with the dense, humid atmosphere, it felt as though poison was choking me.

The blood-red spikes protruded from the swollen walls and threatened me with the constant fear of impalement; their penetrating edge concentrated with malice. I felt like I was stuck to the floor, my feet welded to the bulging surface. A horrible bubbling sounded, and everything seemed to agitate gently, as though I were on a ship that was crashing through a stormy sea.

Exhausted, the pain still stabbing my sides, I made another attempt to stand, and as I did so, I staggered about roughly, staring around at the repulsive scene. My stomach churned fiercely.

What am I to do?

My vehemence had fled me, and for once, I didn't care. Not about anything. Not about stopping Thegon. Not about Skylar. Not about anything.

Why should I? Nothing matters anymore, anyway. I'm back in this horrid place.

Attempting to block out the sickening groans of Hell, I focused on my sanity. The task I was trying felt impossible, and there was no possible way I could stop Thegon. I couldn't kill him. A mortal cannot kill a god, and certainly not me—an Ouium who can't even make his own magic.

How would it be possible?

Wallowing in my self-pity, I began to limp along, drive flooding back into me. I had to find Skylar, but where was he? Hell was difficult enough without being a dying man on an impossible mission. To my right, I could see something that resembled a body, but it was quite far away. A good few minutes' walk; with my leg being riddled continuously with pain and aches, it would be a difficult journey.

What a situation to be in.

I forced myself forward, telling myself that I would make it. I would. I had to. If I didn't, well—I didn't think that I would ever forgive myself.

Determination curling through my blood, I stumbled on, insisting on reaching him—if it was him. I didn't even know for sure, but it was a chance I would have to take.

Slowly but surely, I neared the body, and the closer I got, the quicker I concluded that I was foolish each time I cycled through the panicked thoughts that surged within me.