The Final Embrace

Chapter 6: The Ten Commandments

### **October 10th, 1920, 06:00 Hours**

The chill of dawn wrapped around me as I made my way to the park, the world still shrouded in shadows and silence. Each step felt heavy, laden with the weight of what was to come. My heart raced, a drum echoing in the stillness as I moved through the empty streets, my breath visible in the cold air.

As I approached the park, I couldn’t shake the fear that clung to me like a second skin. I replayed the words of the Ten Duel Commandments in my mind, each commandment a mantra, a guiding light in the suffocating darkness that surrounded me.

Commandment One:“The challenge should be given in writing.”

A cold sweat broke out across my brow. I hadn’t written anything down; it had been a verbal agreement, a hasty acceptance spurred by anger and fear. But perhaps that didn’t matter. The challenge had been made, and The Man had accepted it with a sickening glee that still echoed in my ears.

Commandment Two:“The time and place must be agreed upon by both parties.”

I had chosen the park, a place once filled with laughter and light, now shrouded in a fog that mirrored the uncertainty swirling in my gut. As I walked, the trees loomed like sentinels, watching my every move, their branches twisting in unnatural shapes. Would this be where I would meet my end?

Commandment Three: “The seconds must be chosen wisely.”

I had no seconds—no one to bear witness to the insanity about to unfold. It was just me and The Man, two souls caught in a deadly dance. The absence of witnesses felt like a curse, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this duel would be one-sided, a grotesque spectacle meant to entertain the darkness that had swallowed my life.

**October 10th, 1920, 06:15 Hours**

I reached the edge of the park, the grass damp beneath my feet as I stepped onto the familiar ground that now felt alien. The early morning light filtered through the trees, casting long shadows that twisted and turned as if alive. A low fog rolled in from the river, obscuring the world around me, and for a moment, I stood frozen in place.

Commandment Four: “Each duelist shall be armed with equal weapons.”

The weight of the flintlock pistol in my coat pocket was a reminder of my father’s legacy. It was an old weapon, its wood worn and polished by time, but it felt powerful in my grip. Would it be enough against a creature like The Man? A shiver ran down my spine at the thought.

Commandment Five: “The duel should begin at dawn, the hour of reckoning.”

As the sun slowly crested the horizon, its first rays filtered through the mist, illuminating the park in hues of gold and orange. It was beautiful yet foreboding, a bittersweet reminder of the life I had fought so hard to build. I could hear the faint chirping of birds, a stark contrast to the weight of my thoughts.

Commandment Six: “No one may interfere once the duel has commenced.”

That thought lingered like a dark cloud over me. I knew Elizabeth would be safe at home, but what if I didn’t return? The thought of leaving her alone in this world, vulnerable to the horrors that lurked in the shadows, made my chest tighten.

**October 10th, 1920, 06:30 Hours**

I reached the center of the park, a small clearing surrounded by towering oaks, their gnarled branches creating a canopy that blocked out the growing light. I paused, scanning the area for any sign of The Man, my heart pounding in anticipation.

Commandment Seven: “The duel shall last until one man can no longer stand.”

The image of The Man flashed in my mind—his towering height, the sickly pallor of his skin, and that insidious grin that promised pain and despair. Would I even be able to stand against such a creature?

Commandment Eight: “The victor shall be declared the one who remains alive.”

The finality of those words weighed heavily upon me. This was not just a test of skill but a struggle for survival, a fight that would determine my fate. As I stood there, I clenched my fists, drawing strength from my desperation.

Commandment Nine: “If a man refuses to fight, he shall be deemed a coward.”

I couldn’t afford to be seen as a coward. Not now. Not after everything I had sacrificed. The thought of running, of fleeing from this monster, felt like betrayal—a betrayal of myself, of Elizabeth, and of the life I had fought to build.

**October 10th, 1920, 06:45 Hours**

Finally, I heard a rustle in the bushes, the sound of something unnatural breaking the silence. My heart leapt into my throat as I turned to face the source of the noise.

Commandment Ten: “A man must face his death with courage.”

The Man emerged from the shadows, stepping into the clearing with an almost ethereal grace. His towering form loomed before me, the sun glinting off his flintlock pistol as he raised it slightly, a mock salute to the moment.

“Ah, Charles,” he purred, his voice oozing with malice. “I was beginning to think you’d chicken out.”

The stench hit me again, that rotting smell that clawed at my senses. I steeled myself, remembering the commandments, the weight of my choices heavy in my heart. I had come here to fight, to confront my worst nightmare, and I would not back down.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but I could feel the tremor beneath the surface.

The Man’s grin widened, revealing those sharp teeth once more. “Oh, we will, Charles. We certainly will.”

And with that, the world around me faded into a blur, the only thing that mattered was the man before me and the fate that awaited.