Chaos Asunders The Gods

Fear Strikes Those Alone

CW/TW: Some pretty heavy violence near the beginning of this chapter.
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It had been days since anyone had seen the worm. The Lamb had built him a hut, on the other side of the village away from the strange three-eyed cat, Narinder. Rumors still spread that the Lamb was resurrecting the old gods, housing them. But these words befell deaf ears. Most didn't believe them and others humored the idea, but were still disbelieving. Very few followers believed these tales.

It was later in the day and Leshy was locked inside his hut. Few followers tried to reach him. Kiyoshi, the seamstress, had stopped by to check on him and gained no response. Canni, the strange gardener, lover of the seamstress, had even tried. Now, Titan stood before the worm's door and gentle rapped on the wood. "Leshy?" No response. "Are you in there?" Nothing. "It's been a few days since anyone's seen you...I brought you food!" The dogs paws clutched a wooden plate that displayed berries and vegetables. Not a single sound came from beyond the door. "Well, I'll leave this here for you." The canine, defeated, left the plate at the foot of the door and padded off.

The once bishop sat up on his bed, hands trembling as he ran clawed fingers gently over one of the many bite marks he received with the fights between Narinder. This wound, like many others he had, should've healed by now. For some odd reason it still lingered, still pained him, still marked his body as a foul reminder. His powers had been slowly fading from his existence. Why did his body still ache with sore remorse? There's a subtle sound from somewhere in his room and to the untrained ear, would've been dismissed.

Leshy sat apon his bed, weak and vulnerable. Fear began to creep up his spine, breathing catching in his throat as his chest heaved. Everything was so new, this world was far more relentless than he previously believed. The feeling of eyes on his figure began to claw at his mind, and the scent of rot caught his attention.

Turning, he set a blinded gaze up to the rafters of his cabin. A deep laugh, one that rang out with ill intent and residual anger, one that demanded ones heart to stop apon hearing it, a laugh he knew too well, sounded from above. There was a weight in his chest, which shouldn't have been possible as the lamb had long since removed his heart.

"So this is where you've been hiding, irritable heratic."

This voice spoke with venom, with such hate that it left the worms skin crawling.

Yet, Leshy remained calm. "What brings death to my door today, brother?" He spoke the last word with a taunting tone, knowing well that it pissed off the cat who currently lurked in his rafters. A soft thud sounded on the ground before him and he followed it.

"It's strange that your pace quickens, worm. I thought the lamb removed that treacherous heart long ago?"

He willed his breathing to still but it only sped up, growing ragged. "They did." Narinder inches closer and the smell of rot was soon overbearing. He could feel the old god mere centimeters form his face, hear the subtle growl from his throat. "Then why does your chest still beat with fear?" Before the worm could mutter out something, anything, claws shot out and pierced his shoulders. His back met a shelf, digging into his skin and drawing out a pained groan.

He knew he was too weak to fight back. Body painted in wounds from head to claw from previous attacks and fights. The most he could do was fight to live, to thrive in spite of his brother's wish. Yet, why did his body not respond to his wishes?

The cat was on him once more, claws raking down his chest and tearing the fabric of his robe. His skin ripped away and let free the warm blood from his veins. One foul smelling paw clenched his neck, and Leshy gripped the wet wrists of his assailant. Blood, ichor, and rot filled his nostrils. "Puny thing..." Narinder dropped his voice to a threatening, growled whisper as he leaned closer. "You'll suffer as I did."