DEMON HUNT

Chapter 52: Behold the great fall II

The veil over Seider seems to have disappeared. The scene depicts absolute mayhem. It's just pure carnage; it can't be anything less. Literally nothing in sight is standing. Fallen trees, ripped apart, are scattered across the landscape. If you'd call harsh winds blowing at a speed of sixty miles per hour 'extreme', then imagine strong winds having a minimum base level speed of at least a hundred and fifty miles per hour. The mere thought of it could dampen any hopes of finding anything besides loss.

As dozens of minutes pass, vultures begin to circle the area, plans of a grand feast in mind. While they played no role in the eventual outcome, these bald black winged birds of prey poise to benefit from this disaster filled site. A hand covered in abrasions suddenly rises from the rubble, sending a couple of vultures airborne. It takes a good deal of time for another to follow, as Nicholas struggles to pull himself from beneath a trash-like site of trees, dust and bricks. He pulls himself out, panting like it'd taken everything he had left to perform that action. His mask is nowhere to be found, his hunt suit significantly damaged, his eyes widening as they behold the extent of the damage done...he beholds the great fall.

As he takes steps to force a more efficient process of blood circulation to his numb limbs, Nicholas struggles to believe this is Renard's doing. He pulls his neck length black locks as he tries to stop himself from shuddering. A thought suddenly hits him, causing him to jump on his feet. He begins to push himself mentally as he drags himself around, searching for survivors. Nicholas screams as his eyes roll from left to right. He doesn't even notice there's a trail of blood leading from the side of his head. He shouts, calling out, as he treads the unrecognizable island that is Seider.

Nicholas: Is there anyone out here?! Anyone...anyone at all?! Is...anyone else alive?

Nicholas' voice breaks as his spirit dampens. He'd become a breathing mixture of flesh, bones, water and blood, completely devoid of hope. Just as he was about to give up, his eyes fall on a hurt Sung. She lies on the ground, unable to stand, constantly gasping for air. She doesn't have any visible serious wounds, but she is clearly far from okay. Nicholas does his best to clear the surrounding rubble as he rushes to her side. He's clearly concerned, anxiety written on his face. Nicholas attempts to know how badly hurt she is.

Nicholas: Sung, I'm here. Everything is going to be okay. Can you hear me? Tell me where it hurts.

Sung just blinks her eyes as she gasps for air. She struggles to get air as her laboured breathing continues. It's the most terrifying illustration of agonal breathing Nicholas has ever witnessed. Sensing she can hear him, he attempts to give her hope, something he'd since lost.

Nicholas: You'll be okay. I got you. Just hang in there.

Nicholas digs deep, finding the strength to not only lift, but to carry Sung in a bridal carry fashion. As he maps out his bearing in his head, he feels a cold hand grip his ankle, startling him. As he turns swiftly, he sees Handanovic, who is missing at least a limb. Handanovic struggles to speak, but does so in the end.

Handanovic: Help me, Nick. Help...me.

Nicholas' breathing becomes fast paced as he begins to fidget. His feeble state of mind shatters almost instantly as he stares Handanovic in the face. How can he say it? How can he let him know that he can only save one person at a time, or even try to, in the first place?! How do you look a person in the eye and tell him to wait for you to somehow miraculously cover tons of kilometres before returning to help him? The damage Sung received seems to have come from inhaling the air from Renard's technique. With that in mind, it'd take a great deal of kindness from lady luck for anyone in the area to survive. As Nicholas tries to pull himself together to, at least, encourage Handanovic, he hears another voice from a distance. It's Gradel's. He gives a weak call.