Savior Soul

Four

I re-wrote chapter 3, so if you haven't read it, but read the old one, you will need to re-read it :) Story:

Four

“You didn’t!” Thea squealed, throwing a pillow across the room. I laughed, throwing a hand in front of my face to block the assault. She’d been telling me for days how she was convinced she was in love with her lab partner in micro-bio, but refused to do anything about it. So I walked right up to him in the canteen and told him. I was never one for fussy, girly fandoms over which boy was ‘hotter’ or who had the most sex. I kept myself to myself. No one spoke to me, and I spoke to no one.  I had decided that listening to another one of her love-fests was going to kill me.

“Well I had to do something. It was killing me.” I laughed, tossing the pillow aside. I yawned loudly, taking in as much air as I could. The night I found the fountain was the only night I’d slept in peace - three nights had passed since then, and I’d gained no more than an hour’s worth of sleep. Every night was the same, I started to drift off, but as soon as my conscious slipped, my thoughts were invaded. The darkness was evident, and inescapable. I woke early in the morning in a heavy sweat, furiously searching my body for evidence of the violence I’d witnessed in my dreams. They were so clear now, playing out in my mind like a scene I’d witnessed before. As if I’d lived a hundred lives before this one, each different from the other, but connected in some way. Deacon was there, always there. Sometimes he fought alongside me, other times against. The hatred that tainted his otherwise beautiful face when he was fighting me stuck in my mind. It was like I knew him, but I didn’t. He wasn’t like the Deacon that fought with me. My eyelids became hooded and heavy as exhaustion settled over me. Thea smiled knowingly as she flicked the switch on her bedside, and I focused on the darkness as I slowly drifted into a restless sleep. 

The battle was loud and bloody. Blood would be spilt, and there would be no justice, for you cannot justify war. Elspeth stumbled backwards as she collided with a half-blood. A true fighter, but without power. Her dagger sunk through the chest of the woman, her shimmering crimson blood pouring from the fresh wound in her chest. The blood hissed as it melted to the ground, emitting impossible heat in its wake as it pooled around the body, now limp on the floor. It would not be long before she was trampled to the ground as the inevitable war went on. Elspeth stormed on forwards, demolishing those unfortunate enough to cross her path. The bodies that fell lifelessly in her wake, she did not care for. Was it not the half-bloods who joined the mortals? Did they not adopt the dangerous, carless way of life? Was it not them who risked the ultimate exposure, for nothing less than fun? They did not deserve the life the God’s gave them. If you do not protect what is yours, then you do not deserve to possess it. Elspeth murdered hundreds more of the worthless creatures with each step in which she neared her goal. The sky, without Zeus’s attention, had become a murky grey, a colour seen before only in the fields of the underworld. The grass, which no longer grew, had become crisp under Elspeth’s feet as she progressed through the bloody battle. She had become numb to the unforgettable cries of agony, the endless suffering, the noise, the roar of those fighting for her, the deaths of those fighting amongst her, those who fled, those who died, those who would die. The images never left her, but they did not affect her so. She was so broken. There was nothing that would merit this war, nothing short of the downfall of the Gods.

My breathing wasn’t heavy like I’d expected it to be, and my body wasn’t dampened with sweat. The effect of the nightmare was different. I was filled with an anger I hadn’t known I could feel. It was burning inside of me, like a fire trying to ignite me from the inside. It was agony. I rolled swiftly onto my side. Digital red numbers flashed. 3:00 - it was early. Thea’s quiet snores from across the room soothed me, but only slightly. I was more than angry, I was enraged.