Vultures and Crows

Chapter XVII: Pia & The Cruciator

“FOLLOW HER! DON’T LET THEM GET AWAY!” the Cruciator roared behind the crazed guards that now chased after Malcom and that girl. He knew that it was too late, but knowing even more that the Prime would have him executed for this. And she had also turned Malcom against the Prime! This is a heathen for you, he reminded himself. Foxes, they are. Can turn the weak against anyone.

Gasping and grabbling for breath, Pia heard the stomps and marching of the guards. She was waiting for the hall to fork, but it seemed like it never would, this endless hallway. The guard who had opened her door, Malcom, had given her a map, which she had attempted to use to memorize the path.

“Are…we…almost…there?” She gasped between stolen breaths.

“Keep going!” Was all Malcom would disclose.

“If you don’t stop, we’ll pull out the scintilla guns!”

“DUCK!!” Malcom cried. Pia bent over.

“FIRE!!” A blast of haze blew hundreds of feet. As the haze settled, it fell onto Pia’s now slouched back. Though she gasped for breath, she now used the little air she had in her lungs to use to scream. Stings, as if thousands of poisoned blades had pierced her skin.

“KEEP RUNNING!!” Malcom bellowed, trying to keep her going. Because if she was left behind this would be a waste. And Pia knew this. And though she knew that if she continued, her bare feet’s skin would have peeled completely off from the pressure and haze, she continued.

“FIRE!” Someone cried once more. Pia bent as far as she could without toppling over. Pins and needles. Escape. Poisoned pins and needles. Freedom. Death. Starla’s pleading face and cries. How can I possibly survive this? She questioned.

Can’t let her get away. Can’t. Death for all. Death for me. Prime shame. How can I possibly survive this? The Cruciator repeatedly asked himself. And so he kept firing, but that girl’s leather back and feet would not let him take her. The traitor would not let him. How can I possibly survive this?

“GAS MASKS ON!” As they slipped them on, he took out of one of his many pockets a small pad. After pressing 1-2-5, he looked up, waiting for the invisible to grab them.

Hissing. And an acrid smell that writhed into her nose. Suddenly, Pia was coughing hard. Crawling was not an option, as the haze had settled on the floor. But she had to go against that, because Pia was falling down, down, seemingly endlessly. But, when she hit the floor it only got worse. Her cuts were now everywhere, the blood staining the gossamer fabric her body still clung to. It gave no protection from the sharp fog, it being too sheer. Through the fog, she saw, the saving silhouette of a guard, his gas mask on his alien-like face, with its small place for his eyes and the small tubes.

Throwing one down to Pia, he bellowed, “GET UP!” then left her to struggle to put it on. Once she did, air inflated her lungs.

She complied with his instructions, staring down the hall to see how much they had gained. They had left a while before the others knew, but the long hall meant that it was impossible to shake them off by turning a corner. They were only maybe fifteen yards away.

So she sprinted, blood still gushing and hardening on her skin. Even without water for two days (they had taken her off it in the hope she would confess for it), it still gushed. Stumbling, but regaining balance. They were stepping on her heels, tripping her. She twisted and smacked, but that only allowed the guard there to grab her wrist.

I’m dead. I’m dead. Though she had asked for a weapon, Malcom had thought they would have been far enough aheadand it would just weigh her now weak self down. She punched the man in the stomach, but her fist just reverberated off.

The hands were off. A knife now stuck out of the man's stomach. He fell, and Pia ran for it.

The end was coming; she saw it finally. The fork. Malcom turned left and she followed.

“NO! NO! THEY CAN’T ESCAPE!” But they had. There was nothing he could do. The Cruciator slid down the wall and placed his head in his hands, like so many of his victims had done while waiting for his face. “Gather the others. We can at least put my name on their execution before the Prime finds out about this.” Not reacting as fast as he wanted, he revised his method to ordering them, “Get them now. BEFORE I KILL YOU!”