I Need To Remember

Chapter Seventeen

Something was definitely wrong with him.

Riftan starred down at the decapitated werewolf corpse, twisting his nose at the wicked smell. Its dark, sticky red blood ran into the stream he had stopped to drink by, tainting the cold water. As the two liquids mixed together, he sneered in disgust before turning away. That was all these infernal things did; ruin and destroy. It had been an easy kill.

But the thing had gotten much too close, most likely due to the strange state of his body. Earlier, he experienced a strange coldness, unlike anything he had felt recently, even being outside the majority of the time. This coldness quickly seeped within; deep into every part of him. If it were possible, he would have liked to wrap blankets around his very bones. Then there were slight tremors in his body, and a constant, unnatural sweat accosted him even when they weren't working. His stomach hurt, he was slightly dizzy, and his skin burned up.

Fine, he was sick. But it was no cause for delay.

After this, they had one last area to check before finally being able to return. The sightings were small, but it was best to root out any problem before it became larger. He didn't want to come back here for a long time.

If this had happened at any other time, he would have no problem. But right now Riftan could feel the weight of each limb, causing him to be sluggish and irregular where he was once swift- and though his eyes were still sharp and critical of his surroundings, they threatened every moment to fall shut. Riftan cursed the sudden dehydration he felt that led him here. How was it that after drinking he felt ten times worse? If he had seen this coming, Riftan would not have left his tent.

It was unwise in the first place. They had water at camp; but what he truly wanted was some peace. All day, the intense feeling of regret hounded him, and only seemed to be amplified by the aches in his body. Ever since they left, he had the strong conviction that something was left unsaid, that he had to go back. That there was something else he needed to do. But why?

Was his question going to be answered?

Now he looked tiredly around the dark trees, sword unscathed in one hand. He didn't bother to wipe the blood that dripped steadily onto him. Where there was one of those things, others would undoubtedly have lingered.

A fight was surely about to ensue.

He was not proud enough to deny calling for help would be the right thing to do. But it wasn't possible- Riftan had walked too far from their camp for anyone to hear him, even if he did have the extra strength to call. The only choice would be to fight the five or six awaiting him in this wretched state, unable to really have much sense of his surroundings. Though it wasn't much concern; he had worked in far worse conditions than this, he thought with a sardonic smile.

For fuck's sake, even his nose was runny.

As he brought up an arm to slowly wipe it, the first one leapt from the darkness.

He was not scared- more like annoyed at having to fight in such a gross state. But as the monster dialed its red eyes in on him and barred its massive, jagged, and perfectly sharp teeth at him, an involuntarily shudder went through Riftan's body. After striking it down, the pungent smell of blood which he had long become immune to hit his nostril hard, causing him to gag. He was hardly able to stop himself from retching in pain and agony as the next two came at him.

He was incompetent; Riftan’s foolishness was now thrown in his face in the worst way possible.

As the beasts came at him from two directions, the fight was inherently dizzying. In front of him, the werewolf lunged directly for his throat- he hardly had time to block it with his sword. The hard metal cut right into its paws, and the thing roared with anger. Meanwhile, he knew the other one was preparing to take him out from behind.

With heavy, labored steps, he swung the one snapping at his face towards its partner just as the other one leapt with wide jaws.

That was one kill. He quickly removed his sword and exterminated the other, before emptying his stomach right next to the carcessess. He was so damn tired- but as much as he wanted to lay down and die next to his kills, he couldn't. Riftan had to continue on.

Back when he only had the idea of Maximillian Croix, he somehow found the will to live. Even with nothing and no one, he stayed alive. Sometimes he wasn't sure how.

But now she was waiting for him. He could not have survived those dreadful three years, those years of hell on Earth, only to part with her now. The thought left a painful, ugly tear in his heart. They had only just began their life together, please...

When he was struck next, he thought too much instead of focusing on the fight. His mind dangerously dwelled on her and things that had no place in a battle. She should never have to see one; so precious she was, Maxi should never be spoken of around this death and disgusting part of the world. She shouldn't even be thought of, but here he was, so consumed. She had taken hold of his heart, soul, and very being without even trying. Or had he given it away?

His staring muscles did their best to keep him alive as his consciousness weaved delicately in and out, as he hardly dodged the jaws of death, as his mind became entirely feverish and jumbled. If he hadn't the years of experience and trial which made him so skilled, Riftan would already have perished.

He shouldn't have thought of how lonely it was without her company. Or of running his hands through her long tressess, which always beckoned him forward with how they swung when she walked. He shouldn't have thought- that he hadn't done well enough to get to know her, that he couldn't bear to be without her anymore, that he had truly failed her now, in such a pathetic way.

Riftan was supposed to protect her, and he was here, stumbling around and falling prey to something easily avoidable- sickness. A reincarnation, huh? Just as he thought, it was a fucking useless title that meant nearly nothing. He wondered who would be next after him.

But he did kill the last one. He did it, and perhaps there was a small, shining moment of delusion filled victory.

Then the heavy, giant monster fell on him. Riftan had no strength left to push it away. He had no idea of the rock lying in wait just beneath his head as he fell backwards, the stench of blood and vomit flooding his senses in the dark as his eyes snapped shut. He only thought:

Please, don't forget me.

I love you with everything I have...