Lilith waited as the attack on the cabin's exterior continued without end. The walls and thatch roofing had held thus far, but how long would the luck keep?
Already, moonlight bled through the pincushion wall, and rain drizzled through the mangled roofing. It would be one thing if they were wild animals in search of food, but these red-eyed creatures appeared to be equipped with intelligence, or at least some sort of goal.
Boulder monitored the front door while Cassandra and Lilith huddled near the center of the cabin against the rain and cold. They should've evacuated long ago. They based their choice to remain on the false assumption the creatures would eventually become bored and leave. With so many covering the exterior of the cabin, an evacuation now might as well be suicide—at least not without some sort of distraction.
Regardless of how things had turned out, Lilith berated herself for being so useless. She'd never taken an active role in much of anything. Back home, the princess had servants to do everything and anything. This trip was the first time she'd ever dressed herself. The "perks" of being a princess had always felt like a thorn in her foot. Being pushed and prodded like a doll lacked appeal for anyone with half a brain. And her mother knew this. If it weren't for her lineage, and the fact she was an only child, the Matriarch might've replaced her long ago.
From the moment she woke until she laid down on her bed, every moment of her day was meticulously planned. The only thing left to her discretion were bathroom breaks. Except if she took too long, someone would come check on her. Work of any kind was strictly forbidden—chore or otherwise.
It made sense, logically. The public were not to see a member of the royal family lowering themselves with actual work, else the city could lose face. As if it was an indication, the city was failing economically for being unable to fund a proper host of servants.
As a figurehead, living in extreme opulence and comfort was her civic duty to the peoples whose lives she would one day control. At least that's how she'd been raised.
More and more, through the interactions with Cleo, his crew, and her overhearing the conversations of the common sailor, she was beginning to understand things a little differently. Their music, dance, and jokes. The nuance of people and culture could not be understated. The voyage had opened her eyes in a variety of ways, not the least was her exposure to all the pain and suffering had by the people who died with the fall of her mother's ship.
Lilith hoped the cabin could hold out until sunrise. She couldn't explain why, but she felt the creatures might give up once the sun cracked the horizon. The feeling ran parallel to the assumption that these things would kill them once they gained entry.
Over time, the roof sagged, drooping near the middle from the weight of the rain and the damage inflicted by those creatures. It confirmed her fears that they were running out of time. With so much damage, the cabin would collapse like the structure had been exposed to a decade of termite damage.
One of two things would happen. The creatures would find a way inside, or the cabin would collapse beneath its own weight, crushing them in the process. One way or another, the charade of survival would be over soon.
Boulder's suggestion of leaving him behind so he could serve as a distraction made her physically sick. A decoy or sacrifice for the princess—Lilith refused to accept it. She didn't doubt his battle prowess, quite the opposite, but left alone to face so many unknown threats, his survival seemed unlikely. What could she do? She wracked her mind for the correct answer.
Her life didn't belong to her. As princess and only heir to the Matriarch, her life belonged to the people of Mont Qerath. Without her, the succession of the monarchy could be called into question. And a war for succession would only lead to thousands of needless deaths.
Moonlight reflecting off the water had mixed with the vibrations to create tiny ripples that reflected off the interior walls of the cabin. Lilith wasted time yanking on the bottom of her shorts to make them a tad longer. As unimportant as it seemed, the soggy clothing had become awkwardly bunched between her legs, leaving them embarrassingly short. It was funny, the things she became concerned with at a time such as this.
The shirt was no better, having stretched around the neck and thus exposing her undergarments. If she could get over the shock of showing so much skin, the lack of clothing could allow for more movement. Right, and I could sprout wings and fly away.
Boulder maintained his position at the door with a small stream of rainwater falling on his head. Sword at the ready and body poised to spring into action. He showed no discomfort, despite the ice-cold liquid cascading off his face and chin. She'd always heard about Boulder, the invincible fleet commander, the winner of over fifteen tourneys and countless duels. To see him now... was a comfort.
Cassandra maintained a similar calm that seemed to bleed through the firm grip she maintained with Lilith's hand. As surprising as it seemed, her handmaid acted like she was in her element. She could just be skilled at hiding her nerves for Lilith's sake, but it didn't seem likely.
The chaos and danger seemed to ignite something inside her handmaid. She was a honed weapon, well-suited to the "heat" of battle. Different from her work inside the palace where she was routinely scatterbrained. This was a Cassandra that relished a life or death situation. Lilith suddenly realized that she might know nothing about her two favorite people.
An hour passed with little improvement. Additional holes had opened in the walls while older ones saw their portals widened. Shredded wood, splinters, and dust mixed with the cascade of rainwater that churned amongst the cabin floor.
Lilith screamed when she noticed one monster had jammed their pointy-eared head through one of the holes. Scrambling, it honked that awful cry as it tried to pry its way inside the cabin. Boulder responded by stabbing the creature in the eye with his rapier. The thing disappeared, and the resulting screams of fighting and flesh being torn outside the walls churned Lilith's stomach. If she didn't know better, she'd say they were cannibals.
Is this where I'm going to die? She wondered. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to go—it seemed like a logical question. Her learning of the afterlife had always been painted as a mystical place set in the clouds, adorned with golden gates and void of pain for an eternity.
In a world of suffering, it was easy to believe. Easy to point the finger at something that was out of their control. But what if it were the blessed and powerful who created the suffering in the first place? Take Quinn, for instance. Her family's suffering had been caused by the closure of Mont Qerath's shipyards. A travesty indirectly caused by her own mother. According to the monks in her mother's monastery, wealth and power were the decrees of god. God rewarded his chosen with the fruits of the world. They said the same about the afterlife.
And belief—why did there have to be a catch? With enough evidence, everyone could be a genuine believer. And what of right now? In a situation like this, any strengthening in her belief and faith felt superficial. As Boulder always said—in war, when the cannons are firing, nonbelievers start-believing.
Even now, she couldn't help but yearn for the weekly visits to the monastery. Steep, smooth steps leading up the manicured gardened hill, stinky incense that made it difficult to breathe, and a doe-eyed congregational chorus seated on marble benches trying to outdo one another. Yes, she needed a dose of divine reassurance, even if the awe-inspiring atmosphere of the vast halls, artwork, magnificent architecture, and deep-rooted belongingness was carefully orchestrated frisson.
And yet, it didn't matter. Her consciousness excluded her from personal investment. The blandness and ease of royal life had soured her grapes of belief. She couldn't help but wonder if the spark of struggle was the missing ingredient in the formation of faith, that or a willing and dubious innocence.
Then again, maybe death was the answer, a relief to the constant quest for meaning. A hollow gift at the end of a knife, or in this case, mauled by a host of terrible gargoyle-like monsters. Her death would mean life for someone else when it gave meaning and life to the new princess that would claim her position.
The head priest with the intense toothy grin and shiny baldhead had always been a parrot of her mother. His incessant arrogance on all subjects regarding everything had done a fine job of sabotaging her imperfect belief, but maybe that was his goal—to weed out the nonbelievers, promote unity at the expense of exclusion. Who was she to not be righteously intimidated by a scripture that was packed with parroted and borrowed age-old life lessons?
She was a fool, that much was obvious. Her choice to journey west to visit her uncle had cost hundreds of lives. Her mother often berated her for being an idiot. Maybe she was right, she didn't deserve the crown. If only her mother could live forever, then she wouldn't need an heir.
A gust of wind struck the building, causing the walls to shift, turning the rectangular structure into a tilted shack. Something not suitable for the critters or cockroaches. Several boards along the nearest wall cracked and popped out of place, shooting nails and splinters across the cabin.
Lilith shielded her face and held her breath as she waited for the roof to fall on their heads. The seconds passing proved they weren't dead. And yet, the structure wouldn't hold forever. They needed to evacuate, but doing so would expose them to the dangers that waited outside.
The problem was decided for them when part of the wall broke free. Boulder rushed over to stop the entire cabin from collapsing by using his body as a brace.
"Come on, you bastard!" he shouted through a series of grunts. "Stay up!" The initial hit had bent part of his steel breastplate after he'd dropped his sword.
Cassandra scooped up the fallen blade. She flicked the weapon into the air with her foot, snatching it by the hilt before flicking it side to side. The motion had come across as well-practiced. The handmaid performed a quick salute before falling into a fighting stance, one that differed slightly from the one Boulder usually assumed. Cassandra then sloshed forward through the ankle-deep water to join Boulder near the wall. The blade had become an extension of her arm.
Lilith failed to contain her surprise at her handmaid's use of the weapon. "What, how?"
"Don't look so surprised," Cassandra said. "I wasn't born yesterday, nor did I live my whole life inside the palace. Believe it or not, I'm skilled in things other than washing clothes and organizing your meals. As for weapons, I've mastered the sword, bow stave, and I'm more than proficient with a musket and crossbow. Years ago, I was in the navy, same as this oaf." She made an offhanded gesture at Boulder. "How do you think we met?"
"I didn't know," Lilith said.
"You never asked," Cassandra added.
The comment stung more than it should've, though Lilith suspected she deserved it for the length of time they'd known each other.
"Back in the day, they would call her pirate hunter Cass," Boulder interjected. "A woman remarkable for her quickness with the blade, in a ship to ship battle, she'd slash and poke you so full of holes she'd turn you into a pincushion before moving onto her next victim, poor sons of bitches. Glad I was never on the receiving end. It's funny, I bet that's why she transitioned so easily to housework because of the needlework." The strain of holding the cabin wall upright undermined the lighthearted tone.
"No one called me that, and your insistence that my crew use the term didn't help. Matter of fact, you just revitalized my anger. I'd poke you with your own sword if I didn't think it'd get stuck in your stubbornness."
Boulder grunted as he readjusted his grip, pushing the wall back into place. "Poke me all you want. I'll survive because you carry my heart in your pocket."
Cassandra threw her head back and laughed. "Once a fool, always a fool. By the time I was your age, princess, I had already sailed to the Central Divide and back." Reading the look on Lilith's face, she added, "Don't worry, you'll get there someday. Retirement isn't in my future. I'll do everything in my power to make sure you get to see that magnificent mountain range that divides the world." She wiped moisture from her cheek. "What I'm saying is I'll be around long after you stop having a need for an old woman like me."
Lilith shook her head. "No, I'll always need you."
"I'm afraid I have bad news," Boulder said. "Despite my efforts, this wall won't hold for much longer." Red blood showed on his arms and shoulder from a series of vicious claw marks after he'd gotten too close to the wall and a few of the holes.
Without warning, the noise from outside ceased. The scratching stopped, though the rain and wind continued, but the creatures had paused their efforts to gain entry. Their large numbers made the simultaneous void seem impossible, a reduction that was all but deafening.
Lilith feared she'd go crazy waiting for the attack to resume. For them to give up now seemed impossible. It was too good to be true.
Listening to the light patter of raindrops on the roof, she didn't know what was scarier, the mysterious pause, or the scrupulous coordination employed by the group of monsters. Thankfully, she wasn't naïve enough to think the threat had disappeared. If anything, the danger had multiplied.
A voice shouted outside a few yards in front of their cabin. "Princess!" Cleo yelled. "Run for safety once it's clear!" The air rang with a hand clap, then he added, "Aaah! Come and get me, you monsters!"
Cleo! Lilith couldn't believe her ears. He sounded so confident. Worry and frustration melted into the sudden burst of warmth that blossomed inside her chest. She clung to his presence like a life raft. Help had arrived in the form of her beloved friend, Cleo.
She cupped her hands around her mouth to shout back a response. She wanted to warn him, but an eruption of noise overshadowed her voice as the creatures took flight. The chorus of wings shook the structure, widening the cracks in the walls, showering them with additional rainwater and debris. Cleo's taunt had worked. He'd saved them.
"Watch out! The structure is coming down!" Boulder said as he abandoned the wall, allowing it to collapse in a massive splash that threw water across the whole of the cabin's interior. He wrapped both Lilith and Cassandra in his arms, using his body as a shield for the falling debris. "Close your eyes and stay down!"
A few brief moments passed, and the roof held, though large clumps of the thatch were now missing. The fall of the wall had revealed a rainy night, patchy clouds intermingled with sparse spurts of moonlight. Lilith listened for signs of Cleo as the wind and rain blasted them from the direction of the missing wall.
Her answer came in the form of screams from off in the distance. The night became filled with the sound of pain. Please, no! She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood.
"That's Cleo. He's out there," she said. Standing, her voice rose in volume as she became more certain. "Cleo! I'm here!"
Pushing aside propriety, fear, and her inherit misgivings, she ran for the opening in the cabin's side on a pair of shaky legs. The push for speed was hindered by debris and icy water that enveloped her ankles. The interior's earlier smell of wood and candles had all but vanished, replaced by the stench of salt, blood, and burned sulfur. With one wall missing, she could see how much damage the creatures had inflicted and how little of the exterior remained.
Moving was more difficult than expected. Between the heightened stress and freezing temperatures, her extremities were beyond numb. Only the steady drip of adrenaline allowed her to put forth the required effort to push past the stiff walking that made her legs feel like wooden stilts.
"No, you mustn't," Boulder said, intercepting her before she'd made it outside. They stood on the cabin's broken wall with the beach in the background. "Stay, please! You mustn't leave the safety of the cabin."
"Cleo's out there!" she said, feeling herself explode with emotion. "Release me! Now! You useless old fool!" The last comment mirrored what her mother always said.
Boulder flinched like someone had slapped him. "T-There's nothing you can do," he said. "I beg you, please stay."
Lilith fought against his hold with everything she had, yet inwardly she recoiled at the venom in her voice as regret bubbled up.
"Hold on to her!" Cassandra echoed in the background.
"I'm trying!" he said through gritted teeth.
Her small size allowed her to squirm free and flip over his arm, performing a somersault to land on her butt. The natural progression of momentum sent her rolling and exiting the cabin to the beach beyond. The abrupt transition to the night's elements left her dazed.
It worked. She'd reached the outside. Digging her toes into the sand, she took off at a sprint. Luck alone kept her from tumbling face first into the sand from a loss of balance.
Invigorating and panicked, she ran aimlessly toward the shore as she scanned the blank terrain of a wide-open beach at night.
For a short while, her efforts proved fruitless. Clouds obscured much of the moonlight, leaving the landscape dressed in a weak glow of smooth white sand. Her movement blurred the surroundings. Hope lay with the discovery of Cleo before she reached the ocean. If they waited till daylight, they were likely to only find a corpse.
Hope faltered after a few hundred feet of beach had passed beneath her feet. The cabins in the background had long since disappeared inside the dark and rainy backdrop of the island's jungle interior. Fat rain drops pelted her in the face, leaving her partially blinded while exertion left her head feeling feverish. There could be anything hiding just outside her peripherals, monsters, or deranged villagers, not a reassuring thought.
"Cleo!" she shouted, though the effort seemed useless with her voice being swallowed by the noise produced by the storm and waves, and what if someone other than Cleo answered?
Her arrival to the coastline became self-evident when the sand transitioned from soft to hard, and beyond that was the ocean, black and dotted with the highlights of sea foam on whitecaps of the waves. With such a blank terrain, missing him seemed unlikely, but anything was possible on a night like this.
The beach seemed to go on forever in either direction. How would she ever find him? Tears of failure blurred her vision even as she forced herself to not lose hope.
Spinning around, she spotted a dark blob just up the beach. Her initial assumption of seaweed proved wrong. Getting closer revealed a mass of tiny hairless bodies and wings.
"It couldn't be..." She held her breath. Seeing those creatures out in the open scared her more than she cared to admit.
Piled together as a group, the visual was reminiscent of sharks caught in a feeding frenzy. A few eventually broke off from the main pack, allowing her to see their stick-thin bodies, leathery webbed wings, pointy ears, sharp beaks, and dreadfully familiar red eyes. Their two-legged hop made her picture a featherless vulture. One of them bounced around on the outside until it flew back into the pile.
Engrossed with what she could do, she had her focus stolen when a light appeared from over her shoulder. Surprised by the addition of other people, she watched the light move closer and morph into a torch held by Marius, leading a small group of people. The orange glow decorated his grim features with shadows and harsh tones reminiscent of a nightmare. Lilith called out to him, but his focus lay on the pile of moving creatures.
"Good god!" Ural barked. His wide outline and booming voice identified him from amongst the group. In his hands he carried a sword, the steel reflected torchlight like a glowing strip of light. "What sort of monster? They're like a pack of piranhas. Hurry and do it before there's nothing left of him."
Hearing the reference confirmed Lilith's fears. Cleo was at the bottom of those monsters. She cried in earnest. Emotion made her jaw tremble as tears ran off her chin. She stood halfway between rushing forward and collapsing on the spot. Everything bad came rushing back. Her hope of salvation for the mistakes of the voyage would die with Cleo. This revelation threatened to destroy her, and so she prayed for the first time in years as adrenaline vacated her system like a flame dropped in seawater.
"Princess!" Boulder said, sliding to a stop next to her. He staggered to catch his breath before wrapping her tight in his arms. The wet clothes and chest armor felt like ice on her skin. She shivered as his arms tightened in a protective embrace. "Stay close, please. No more running toward danger."
Lilith struggled to get free, but this time, his grip held strong. His fingers bit into the flesh of her arms, refusing to lose her a second time. For all the space he yielded, she might as well try moving a fifty-ton rock. "No! R-release me," she cried. "We've got to help him. He's dying!" She didn't care about the danger. As far as she could tell, being a princess could only yield death. First, the death of her crew, and now the death of her friend, Cleo.
Hopeless, she let her body go limp, forcing Boulder to hold her upright. She focused on the spot where she imagined his body would show, mangled and bloody.
Marius drew closer to the pile of writhing, oblivious creatures. His silent presence was barely noticeable beyond the glow of the torch in his hand.
Lilith hadn't a clue about what he hoped to accomplish. His blank features offered little and gave away nothing. But if she thought there would be some sort of explanation, she was sorely mistaken.
From his belt, he produced a drinking horn inlaid with brass and pearl. The natural chalice, marred with worn features, seemed to fit his grip a little too well, giving the impression the item had been in his possession for a long time.
Marius stopped a few feet from the horde of monsters. He flipped open the cap and drank from the horn till his cheeks were bursting.
Alcohol, now of all times? Watching him partake in utter abandonment, Lilith resisted the urge to lash out as anger swelled inside of her.
Marius continued without missing a beat. The process appeared practiced and methodical. His bursting cheeks explained that the liquid was still in his mouth. He then pinched his lips closed, and flared his nostrils, breathing in till he was red in the face.
With his back arched, he raised the torch and spat the liquid through the flame, creating a fiery inferno at least thirty feet tall. The fire billowed out like an explosive wave, bathing both people and beach in a blistering orange glow. Steam formed as fire mixed with rain to create a hissing noise. So hot and bright. If Lilith didn't know better, she might think the sun had risen.
He spat twice more, shooting flames into the sky, creating an orange light show. The flames ignited the creatures, like each one of the tiny monsters was soaked in oil.
Sensing the danger, the small pack took flight, trying to escape. In seconds, the swirling mass had become a flaming vortex. Any attempt at escape only spread the flames at a faster rate amongst their kin.
Flames and chaos marched on as an out-of-control fire tornado until the flames eventually burned out. The whole of the event lasted no longer than twenty heartbeats, and when it was over—ash blotched the sky like a light snowfall. The moving shadows of ash heightened the remnants of night.
Stunned, Lilith let her shoulders slump from the hollow feeling that'd formed inside her chest. Despite their efforts to save Cleo, she knew something terrible had happened.
The rest of the group presented similar reactions. Boulder released his grip on her arms. Ural had fallen to his knees, Agis hung his head in shame, and Quinn was openly weeping. Lilith ignored the sudden freedom.
The bright light of those flames had marred her vision with green splotches, and her arms and face were uncomfortably hot, like she'd been sitting too close to the fireplace.
Inside was a different story—the events had washed her emotions in guilt. Destroying life, regardless of their motives, made her feel uncomfortable, and to be burned alive...
If it was up to her, nothing in this world would die, which in of itself went against the natural order. Her mother would certainly see things differently. The ruler of Mont Qerath needed to be above pity, self-doubt, and especially guilt. Else she might hesitate when it mattered most.
There were two types of people in the world: sharks and baitfish. If this trip had taught her anything, she needed to adopt a stiffer attitude. Maybe those things had deserved to die. In order for them to live. Setting herself apart from the rest of the world would bring nothing but pain and sorrow. She certainly valued Cleo's life over that of the monsters. And so, in order to save him, those things had needed to die. Or so she hoped.
"What the hell was that?" Cassandra asked, having joined the group at the height of the commotion. In her hands, she carried Boulder's sword and a handful of dress to avoid tripping on the sagging cloth. She hesitated before handing the weapon back to Boulder.
"Damn son!" Ural said. "That was amazing!"
"H-How...?" Boulder asked, stumbling forward like he was in some sort of trance. "I don't understand. What type of liquid was that? Why did those creatures burn so easily?" Marius remained silent, ignoring the barrage of questions from Boulder and the crew. Their voices blurred together like a flock of seagulls.
Lilith barely heard any of it, choosing to focus on the form laying on the beach.
Crossing the fire-warmed sand, she found an unconscious Cleo. The sand around his body had been soaked red with blood, and he was lying face down. His back had lacerations across the shoulders, back, and legs. The puncture wounds had developed little pools of blood, and the ruined shoulder showed pale bone amongst the exposed red flesh. She waited for a response, a sign of life. Nothing. The damage seemed so extensive—she wondered if he was even alive.
"Oh, Cleo," she said, kneeling down in the sand. Broken shells pressed sharply into her knees and legs. The interment inside the cabin and subsequent manic sprint across the beach had left her muscles functioning like a jellyfish. And yet, none of it none of it mattered. Only the person in front of her. "What should I do?"
Shredded clothes, little remained of his vest. His pants had holes along the legs and butt. Careful to not worsen his wounds, she turned him over to lay his head on her lap. She felt so powerless. There had to be something she could do. Would her last memory of him be the accident on the beach, and then his death in her arms?
Shouts erupted as the crew pressed in around her, forming a small circle.
"Cleo!" Quinn said. "No! Whyyyy, is he going to be okay? Cleo, can you hear me? Why isn't he moving?"
"It looks like a shark got him," Ural said. His calm cut through the atmosphere of outrage. "We need to get him comfortable. I fear his journey has ended." He cleared his throat. "Sorry little buddy."
"It's not right," Agis added.
The aftermath of the flames had seen little reaction out of Marius. He seemed impervious to the emotion passing through the group. The heat from the flames had left his skin dotted with sweat. Black hair hung wet from rain as his tattoo gleamed in the low light. The black lizard inked on his chest seemed to smolder. If Lilith understood correctly, Marius was Cleo's uncle, and his lack of reaction struck her as perverse.
"This is my fault," Lilith whispered. "Everyone is dead... because of me. Navy, sailors, and now Cleo." She wiped the tears as they cascaded down her cheeks. "I'm a princess! Somehow, I need to make this right." She turned her attention to Marius. "Tell me what to do. I'll do anything."
In response, he turned his icy gaze toward her. She ignored the worry he might hold her responsible for Cleo's death. If anyone knew what to do, it was him. Inwardly, she prayed her intuition was correct. His decision to burn those creatures was not an accident.
She feared he'd remain silent forever till his eyes flashed a glowing gold, and instead of instructions, he produced a dagger from inside his boot. He dropped the weapon, letting it stab into the sand next to her thigh.
The double-sided, triangular-shaped weapon couldn't be much longer than her hand. Holding the hilt, it surprised her to feel the ancient leather crumble in her palm. The tarnished steel incorporated a wide base before ending at a fine point, and along the center and etched lengthwise were a strange set of runes. None of which made any sense to her, or even looked familiar.
She prepared to comment on the absurdity of being given a weapon until she caught herself unwinding the bandage on her wrist. The bandage that hid the wound Cleo had created when she'd snuck up on him.
Curious about the status, she produced a sharp intake of breath upon seeing the skin had healed and most of the stitching had been pushed out. "Why..." she stopped short.
Securing her grip on the knife, she stabbed the point through the newly healed skin on her forearm. Like someone else had taken hold of her arms and muscles, she followed the action by dragging the blade through her skin, slicing her wrist open and reopening the wound. Green blood pooled in the serrated flesh before spilling off the side of her arm.
Inside, she was screaming. Confusion and disbelief as pain shot up and down her arm like lightning. What? Why!? Objection or not, the blade had split her skin like butter. She controlled her actions as efficiently as a sailboat caught in gale force winds. Once she had enough blood flow, she released the blade, allowing it to fall into the sand.
"Oh god! Princess!" Boulder said. "What are you doing? Please stop!"
Cassandra screamed, and other concerned voices sprang up to question her actions. Behind the barrage of noise, Lilith listened to the nervous flutter of her heart. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on the person lying in front of her. Holding out her arm, she dug her fingers into the wound, causing a stream of blood to flow and splatter on Cleo's torso.
Green mixed with red, a grotesque orgy of blood and gore. She kept up the pressure for several moments. Each drop that hit his body disappeared like he'd become a dried-out sea sponge.
"I-I can't s-stop..." Lilith cried, begging for someone—anyone to interfere in what was transpiring.