Author's Note:
Okay guys, I know this is about a week late. (I feel like all my author's notes are apologizing for a late update... It's probably true *smiles in mild embarrassment lol*). I'm sooorrryyyyy... *puppy dog eyes* To make it up, I was going to try and update twice this WEDNESDAY and SUNDAY!! I just finished two academic papers for my classes so I have a heck of a lot more time!
I hope you can forgive me... <3 <3
Okay, that's enough apologies... Let's get on with the chapter! This took me so long to get together because I wanted to get it just right. I feel like its still missing something, but maybe I'll find it in the editing stage.
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Chapter 56
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Before I take another breath, Butcher empties his weapons belt and shells down the first row of creatures. The scarlet river thickens. Shimmering in light, crimson languidly slithers its way along the field, singing of pitiless murder. Phantoms disintegrate in pieces too gruesome to relay, the images searing themselves in my consciousness.
My fingers clench.
Someday in the far future, maybe I'll be able to forget these spectacles. These terrors sprung from Hades. Perhaps, one day my mind will blank and all that will fill it is a glorious, pure light. I hope so. I pray.
For now, I clutch my stomach in hopes of keeping down my last meal.
For now, I drown in the pandemonium.
Despite the eminent fate, hundreds of phantoms clamber forward, trampling the fallen until the corpses flatten against sodden grass. Small tufts of green peek out amongst the hundreds of carcasses, their scarlet seeping into the soil's depths. Bloodthirst breathes into the skin of the living, flushing pallid flesh full of a toxic, unearthly blue.
The calm in the chaos, Butcher's aim holds steady, relentlessly tearing through Xaron's newest creatures. The second and the third row crumple in a near instant, serving as paving stones for the growing mob behind.
The wasteland crawls with the ghoulish creatures. In all directions, the infinite mass creeps from darkness. It's as if the bloody deaths of their comrades only encourages their siege. Scrambling from their cursed hunting grounds, their mounting presence heightens the tension, until no escape, in any direction, exists.
We're lost.
I shrink into myself, waiting for the silence.
That awful silence. The void.
Eventually, the bullets will taper off, the final shot will fire, and the maelstrom will pull us in her bloody grasp. Until that moment arrives, I hide from death, focusing on Butcher's ruthless defense. As our enemies circle, he clasps me tight to his chest, shooting off heads as quickly as they come. His hearts thunders beneath my palm and his jaw tightens. Its the only thing that gives away his concern.
I'm sure we both knew this triumph was only temporary. Butcher's doing all he can, but eventually, Xaro will win.
It was inevitable.
Jewel, Kerry, now us.
Butcher had a chance without me. I'm sure he was one of Xaro's most-prized Graduates. I'm sure they were ready to bring him home with open arms. But I was his greatest mistake, his eminent ruin. He must know the curse I bear. How could he not? The whole Shadowlands must know Xaro wants me dead.
And yet, this death soldier, this assassin, never left me to die.
The truth brings me to shame. All this time, I believed he wanted to kill me. I could have sworn Xaro sent him to sacrifice me to their stars. An hour ago, I would've left him for good.
I'm a fool.
How could I not see?
Now it doesn't matter.
Now apologies and forgiveness mean nothing.
The last shot echoes across unhallowed ground. For a moment, the world stops spinning, or maybe it's just me. Terror spreads through like heat, suffocating every shred of hope. The end arrived. My body stiffens and my head lolls forward, unhinged.
We're lost.
Slowly, my eyes travel across the river of blood flowing into the darkness, to the crimson-stained grass gleaming in the sun. How long until my blood mingles with those streams? How long until I descend into the black? I breathe in my last full breath and stare hopelessly into the vacant eye-sockets of a charging phantom.
No one wants to die this way. From the state of the Graduate corpses, I expect a painful, drawn-out end where every possible cry escapes from my writhing form. Xaro will have its fill before I lay to rest. They made sure of that.
A phantom lurches. Impending, bloody death grasps me.
I can't help but scream.
Butcher has already unsheathed his sword, and as the fiends rain down, he slashes madly left and right. As his sword arches and swerves, Phantoms snap away in fragments, surrounding us in a heap of stinking death. I scrabble up Butcher's frame, screaming in terror, as more and more claw after us, craving the taste of Graduate fear. I wish that I could somehow black out and miss our eminent doom, perhaps fall into oblivion and never wake up.
But no, Xaro insists on taking its victim fresh and breathing.
Maybe I should just surrender.
Perhaps then, Xaro will let their prized Recreant warrior live. Perhaps then, they won't punish him for safeguarding me.
I'm so sorry, Butcher.
I don't know why you chose me.
I don't know why you care.
But thank you.
Thank you.
Over his shoulder, I watch the scuttling wraiths rush forward. My heart plummets.
I don't care what he's done anymore and I don't care who he is. If I had another chance, I would take him willingly. I'd let him know he earned my respect, that he was more than just a Raider to me.
And no matter what he's done, he doesn't deserve to die like me. This isn't his fate—this abhorrent, ugly fate.
This fate belonging to the cursed princess.
But he would accept it, and I don't know why.
I truly don't know why...
Goodbye, Butcher.
I'm sorry.
Forgive me.
I was wrong.
I'm a fool.
A body-wracking shudder runs the length of me as I reach out, surrendering to the mob. As they attack Butcher's blind spot, I offer myself as an alternative. Their gnashing teeth grin. Before Butcher can react, they have me.
Dragged in their midst, I crash on my stomach. It's too late to regret anything. Running is a distant dream, agony a realistic nightmare. Convulsive pain overtakes as they tear into my flesh, digging jagged teeth and claws in. My legs tremble and I hide my face in bloodied mud to save my eyes. Knives dig into my scalp and frantic fingers clamor for my irises still. I shriek against the mud, desperately batting away invasive hands.
In retaliation, nails rip into my back, scraping away at the skin. The horde moans with eagerness.
"Eyes."
"Eyes."
"Your eyes, Phoenix."
I freeze, heart stopping cold.
That voice.
I know that voice.
Insanity chokes my lungs as awful memories resurface.
The field emptied of running bodies, only the dead scatter the forsaken ground. The Grecousian bombers moved on.
How long have I lain here?
Sitting up I turn to Luna. "Luna?"
She lies in a deep sleep. Her eyes are open but she rests peacefully. A pool of blood soaks the dirt under her head. Gently, I turn her head to the right. Metal glimmers in dim sunlight.
A large shard of shrapnel pierces the back of her head, probably shoved in further when she landed.
The world blurs and I'm suddenly dizzy. As calmly as I can, I lay her head back on the ground. A sob wrenches through me and I force myself to stare at her face.
"This is my fault," I whisper. Whimpers escape as I wipe streaks of mud off Luna's tranquil expression.
I'm a coward.
"Luna?"
"Eyes, give me your eyes."
I can't help but face the phantom. When I do, my whole being revolts. I slap my hand over my mouth to muffle a wild scream.
Though the gouged eye sockets lack her blue eyes and stringy tufts of decaying hair replace luxurious blonde locks, the behemoth resembles a beautiful Graduate I once knew. Lines cut her pale forehead, and raised scars crawl the length of her arms. Her mouth twists with violent hunger and no flicker of light dawns on her tormented face as she lunges for me, fingers poised to stab out my doe orbs.
"Phoenix!"
A strong arm wrenches me to safety. Falling back, I watch as a sword cuts down, simultaneously rescuing me from a fate of death and blindness and, at the same time, forcing me to relive the death of my once innocent schoolmate.
The phantom crumples into the dirt with a whimper. Arms splayed like broken wings, mouth poised to sing one last, sorrowful song, this pitiful slave of Xaro gives up the ghost. Her blood feathers along the ground like rosy velvet.
Why?
Why, Xaro?
Give me a reason.
Tell me your purpose.
Tell me why.
The blue light underneath her skin has scarcely vanished when the rest of the creatures charge, pummeling the form into nothingness.
In just seconds, she flattens and vanishes.
Butcher steals me into his overwhelming shadow, shielding against the onslaught of wraiths, his build curling as he suffers blows meant for both of us. The bashes' impact shakes me anyhow, plowing through Butcher and rocking my frame like roaring waves. I lean into his hand clutching my waist, trying to blind myself to everything but his oddly comforting presence.
A faint light floods the dying fire within as he holds me. My eyelashes flutter with something akin to wonder. I grip his free arm to steady myself, gasping as tears stream down.
"You're going to die because of me," I whisper to the darkness. "And I'm so sorry. You should've let me go. You don't deserve this."
The chaos overshadows my declaration. The slump of falling bodies, the hungry cries of feasting vultures, the screech of Butcher's sword colliding.
This is the end.
The sword holds evil at bay no longer. The shadows spill across the threshold, drowning us in a pulsing mass of mayhem. Death flashes in my eyes. Hands fight to yank me from Butcher's arms, tearing at what remains of my clothes.
I scream Butcher's name.
Our defense implodes despite Butcher's near inhuman strength. He would have to be Xaro itself to save us from the thousands of attacking wraiths. I feel his muscles straining to win against this overbearing evil, his grunts as he fends off the horde clambering over us.
He's truly done all he can.
This time, it's not enough.
I calm, nestling in my last refuge, Butcher's arms, and turning my face to his.
"It's okay," I call to him. His eyes sparkle with rage, but as he looks down, they mellow. A lump forms in my throat as his eyes meet mine. I fight against the inappropriate urge to kiss him goodbye, instead forcing myself to say the words, "At least we won't die alone..."
"No," he says, dropping his sword. "We won't."
A strange sort of determination takes over his physique, and I feel an extra ounce of power course through him.
But, it's too late.
"Goodbye." Ignoring my tears, I force a smile.
"Goodbye, princess." He leans down to my forehead. "When this is over, run. Run as far as you can. Don't stop, don't trust anyone."
Don't trust anyone in death? What could possibly do me harm after this?
"I won't." I decide to do whatever I can to reassure him, to make our last parting as easy for each other as possible. I savor his cerulean eyes and cruel lips for one final moment, before shutting my eyes and anticipating the void.
Thunder booms across the clearing and an awful gale swarms, howling its fury. Its powerful gusts blow my curls into my face and blares through every rip and hole in my tunic.
I cling to my solid rock in the storm, twining my hands with Butcher's.
"Though the heavens fall," I begin to say, "I will stand tall. And wait till morning come. From that place where sweet angels once sung."
A thrumming storm settles over us and I figure its death come to collect its due. Eyes still closed, I clench Butcher's hands until my own grow numb. Fear whispers to my heart, taunting it with memories of Adonis and Nebula. I weep as the world around fades away and thunder roars, accepting that this our end.
At least there will be no more pain.
Just... awful silence.
Though the heavens fall,
I will stand tall
And wait till morning come
From that place where sweet angels once sung.
My eyes crack open when lightning flashes so intensely, I witness it in the darkness behind my lids.
The sky above flocks with nightmarish bolts of light so bright, it seems as if the sun itself has come to kill us all. Electricity skitters across the surface of my skin, jolting me with power. I nearly black out.
Eyes closed peacefully, Butcher stands calmly before me. I start, watching unearthly blue light envelope the death soldier, swirling round' him like a cyclone. Crackling fire strikes down from ominous clouds, clothing him in blinding rays.
"Butcher," I scream.
Another strike of lighting crashes into him, ricocheting off and colliding into phantoms, decimating everything it touches. Rolling over the fields, it incinerates the creeping forms into charred fragments, until nothing alive stands. Not even the trees or the grass.
Nothing but me.
The light, in the space of two seconds, obliterates our eyeless enemies, spreading death over the wasteland like jam.
Haunted smoke billows upwards. Raging fires illuminate the valley.
It's then I notice Butcher's eyebrows furrowed with concentration. He meets each crash of lightning without flinching, almost as if it were a part of his being, as if he belonged to it.
Horror knifes my gut, but when I try to pull away, the death soldier holds me fast.
"Remember what I told you," he rasps. His hollow eyes glow with lightning, his voice booms like thunder. "Run, and don't look back."
"Don't trust anyone."
I don't even have a chance to wonder what this warrior I foolishly believed to be human is. Butcher's golden complexion whitens to the color of the moon, his head lolling forward. His grip on my hands turns to jelly.
"Butcher!" I panic, grabbing his shoulder. The light in his hollow irises cuts out suddenly. I shriek, shaking him awake.
Like a felled tree, he falls, giant frame slamming onto the wasteland. The impenetrable warrior crashes among the corpses, still as the surrounding death.
I can't breathe.
In total shock, I fall to my knees at his side, resting his head in my lap.
"Butcher... are you alright?"
I touch his pulse, his heart.
"Butcher?"
Silence.
Tears fetter down my cheeks.
Silence.
Everything's okay, he probably fainted or something. He just needs a moment.
Twenty minutes later, silence still.
It's then truth dawns.
Ugly, cursed truth.
No, I scream inside. No, it isn't true!
But he is.
He's gone.
He's really gone.