Perhaps...
Fil grimanced as he lay on the floor, gingerly rubbing his head and groaning openly as he drew himself to his feet.
"Blast it Youngbeard, must you hit me with the...?" The child stopped cold in mid-sentence, as his eyes dropped from the walls stained red with fresh blood, to the floor, where the broken corpse of Khain lay. Blood silently leaked from him, his eyes had glazed over, his tounge lolled from his mouth. Fil stepped back in a hushed manner. Youngbeard nodded, then lifted his hammer and struck the child again. Fil staggered to the ground, shouting in suprise as he twisted to avoid the arrow trap. He crashed to the ground beside the two dead dwarves in a mess of rags and blood. Gagging in disgust, he scrambled out of the congealing blood and turned on Youngbeard.
"Whats the matter with you!?!" He furiously shouted at Youngbeard. The dwarf simply waved. Fil shook his head, he was trapped with some insane idiot. He gestured at the pathway past the disturbingly spread bodies of their former comrades. "We should get out of here." Youngbeard slightly cocked his head, loosly gesturing with his hammer. Fil shook his head and sighed. Grasping the hammer, he spun on the spot and began to drag Youngbeard out of the caverns by force.
"Just get past the trap and we're..." His thought ended abruptly, as he looked down the corridor and saw what was there.
He had many injuries, his head was heavily bruised, his clothing torn and blood oozing from a sickeningly large wound on his side. But it was Labs, dragging Jack, who seemed to be unconsious, trailing blood behing the pair, to them. Fil sighed with relief, Youngbeard nodded and gave a slight chuckle. Labs smiled in return, shifting his arm so that Jack was off the ground and in the air.
"Found 'im in the hall, got a bunch'a wounds, but he should be fine." Labs smiled, he gestured at Fil and Youngbeard, who rushed forward, halting uneasily before the trap. Youngbeard raised his hammer threateningly at Fil, who jumped with suprise and squirmed his way, crawling on the floor, around the corpses on the ground, and after dusting himself of on the other side, extending a hand to the limping Labs, who had managed, despite his injury, to drag his way to them. Breathing a silent prayer, Fil smiled at Labs, who managed to wince in return, and take the preoffered hand. Fil pulled Labs forward, and began to aid him in lower Jack onto the ground so that he could rest.
Fil took the time to overview Jack, who had a suprising look of serenity on his face, despite all that had happened. His arm had been severely lacerated, red wounds like snakes trailing over it. His beard was sticky with matted blood, his eyes closed, his breath, unhearable. Fil nodded at Youngbeard, who was idly prodding at Khains body, then ripped a stip of his own coat off, then started preparing a tourniquet for Jack's arm. His eyes dropped to his chest, which seemed oddly depressed, almost as if...
Eyes widening, Fil suddenly gasped. Labs looked at him, his face unreadable. Dropping the cloth in his hand, Fil rand a hand over the shreds of shirt that had been draped over Jack... almost as if they were concealing... Fil, with a flourish of his arm, brushed the remains of the shirt away.
Blood rushed in his ears, adrenaline began to coarse through him, screaming at him to run as fast as he could, to escape this horrible cavern. Jack had been skinned alive at the torso and abdomen, and his vital organ had been meticoulusly removed, essentialy leaving his skeleton only under the clothes. Fil felt like he was rushing, all sensation was blocked out, and the frighteningly clear image of the mutilated Jack spun in his eyes. He felt like he would faint.
But then, he suddenly felt a shock, one that shook him out of his stupor. His eyes slowly turned up from Jacks body, and onto the dwarf standing before him. He looked just like Labs, wore the same clothes, had the same beard. Fil's eyes connected with Labs, seeking, against all hope, to find a glimmer of life, any sign that this was the Labs that they all knew. Their eyes connected, and in that instant, Fil knew. Labs smiled, an impossible smile. Time stood still for what seemed like an infinity.
And was broken by a heavy force crashing onto Fil's skull. He flew from the spot, from the horrifying sight of Jack, the chilling sight of Labs, from the blood, from the gore, from the darkness. Vaugely, his head turned even as he hurtled into the rough rock walls, the shock causing him to cough up blood onto the spot. Youngbeard stood there, hammer held loosely in his hands, a vauge grin on his face. Their eyes connected, even as Fil tried to clear the spinning sensation from his head. Youngbeard waved. Fil ran.
"Labs" drew his sword and slowly advanced toward Youngbeard. Youngbeard laughed, a bark of a laugh that echoed sharply through the tunnels, masking all other noises, except for his own laugh. He flourished with his hammer, and swung at the thing that looked exactly like his comrade. A crack, of metal on stone, rang like a bell through the tunnels, overpowering the echo of his laugh. "Labs" smiled, a strange little smile, and stepped onto the former body of their leader, crushing the skull with a sickening crack as he went.
Click. Youngbeard waved, chuckling as he did so.
The bolt whistled through the air, to land point-blank in "Labs'" heart. Blood flew, intermingling with the congealing blood of his dead comerades. It ran all over the floor, like a river. The arrow itself had torn, quite litteraly, torn "Labs'" heart out, and impaled it upon the oppisite wall, like some freakish sort of manequinn. But the dwarf himself was still, slowly, surely, inhumanly taking step after step toward Youngbeard. A hole was in his torso, a gaping hole that gushed blood as "Labs" moved. But he was still moving.
"Nice trick." Youngbeard smiled, and uttering an oath, swing his hammer over his head. His muscles strained as he lifted, his breath froze in its mouth, every single neuron froze in this moment, as his hammer arced through the air, down towards the head of Labs. It hit the mark.
The dwarf stood over the other, nodding slightly as it noted the blood about it. The dwarf on the ground was groaning, his weapon lay useless by his side, the floor stained with his own blood, puddles steadily rising to engulf him. Though dim, as the torch had been taken by the child, if one strained, one could see a bruise on his forehead, clear as the sun burning in the sky. The dwarf above him took a step.
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Topic: When the Carp Cry : Definition of the Perpetual Witch (Read 25696 times)