Terror of Talons ✦ A Wings of Fire Fanfiction

Chapter Thirteen

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Shrike tossed and turned, the dry dirt and grass that he laid on providing little comfort. The moonless night was dark, the stars hidden behind a thick curtain of clouds. His mind, however, was far from the peaceful retreat of sleep. Instead, it plunged him into a realm of terror and torment.

He found himself standing before the New Island Palace. The once grand and opulent structure loomed ominously, its walls dark and foreboding. The air was thick with the scent of blood and smoke, and the distant echoes of battle cries reverberated through the air.

Shrike moved forward, his heart pounding. He could hear the clash of metal, the earsplitting booms of cannons and explosions of grenades, the screams of the dying, and the roar of fire. His talons clicked against the cold, hard ground, each step echoing like a death knell. The halls of the palace were no longer pristine and intricately inlaid with jewels; they now created a dark, winding maze that never seemed to end, each turn fading into infinite blackness. He rounded a corner, and the sight before him made his blood run cold.

Queen Lamprey lay sprawled on the ground, her body mangled and broken. Not again. Her eyes, once full of authority and power, were now vacant and lifeless. Blood pooled around her, seeping into the cracks of the stone floor. As Shrike stared in horror, the blood began to creep towards him, dark tendrils reaching for his talons.

He tried to back away, but his talons seemed rooted to the ground. The blood touched his claws, and a cold shiver ran up his spine. It felt as if the blood were alive, pulsing and straining and writhing, staining his scales a deep, sickening red. He tore his gaze away from the queen, only to be confronted with another horror.

Kaolin stood before him, her body twisted and broken almost beyond recognition. Her eyes, wide with fear and pain, locked onto his. "Why, Shrike?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why did you let this happen?"

"But... I... I didn't..." Shrike stammered, his voice choked with guilt and anguish. He reached out to her, but she crumbled to dust before his eyes, the wind scattering her remains.

The scene shifted again, and he was now in the midst of a fierce battle. SeaWings and SkyWings clashed all around him, their roars filling the air. Blood splattered across his face, and the ground beneath him was slick with it. Everywhere he turned, he saw bodies.... and among them was Chimaera.

Chimaera's body was a twisted mess, his eyes wide open in a lifeless stare. Shrike felt bile rise in his throat as he saw the familiar silvery-purple scales, now dull and covered in blood. "No... Chimaera," he choked out, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. "No..."

He fell to his knees, his talons sinking into the blood-soaked ground. The blood crept up his legs, blemishing his scales, pulling him down, down, down. He felt like he was drowning in it, suffocating under the weight of his guilt and fear. As the blood rose higher, it whispered to him, voices filled with accusation and blame. "You let them die. You failed. Their blood is on your claws."

"No!" Shrike screamed, thrashing against the unseen force. "It wasn't my fault! I tried to save them! Please, stop!"

The voices only grew louder, a cacophony of despair and torment. The blood reached his chest, then his neck, threatening to engulf him completely. He closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to wake up, to escape this nightmare. But when he opened them again, he was still trapped in the void, the blood relentless.

The scene shifted once more, and Shrike found himself in a familiar place: the throne room of the SkyWing palace. But instead of the regal decor he was so accustomed to, the room was a slaughterhouse. Bodies lay strewn across the floor, hanging from the ceiling, draped across tables and sprawled in the place of carpets, and the throne itself was drenched in blood. In fact, all the blood in the room seemed to be streaming and creeping and crawling from the throne. His talons were covered in the blood, the red liquid dripping onto the floor in a steady, sickening rhythm.