Raven's Watch: Secrets Of The Blud Diary

Chapter Three: The End of a Storm

Ranch collapsed onto the floor, his chest heaving as he fought to suck in the damp, frigid air. His lungs burned, and violent coughs wracked his body. His vision blurred from the tears pooling in his eyes, but through the haze, he could see the mimic clutching its head, unleashing a bone-chilling screech that made his ears ring with an unbearable intensity.

Nathan, lying limp just moments before, suddenly surged to life as if pulled from the brink of death. Without a moment's hesitation, he snatched something off the frosted floor and sprinted toward the mimic.

"Watch out!" Ranch rasped, his voice barely audible over the shriek as a tendril whipped toward Nathan.

Already anticipating the attack, Nathan ducked low, feeling the icy sting of the tendril as it grazed the back of his hair. His heart pounded in his chest as he leaped forward, closing the distance between him and the mimic in a single, reckless dive. The full weight of his body slammed into the creature, driving it to the floor with a dull thud.

The mimic screeched again, thrashing wildly. Its arms and tendrils flailed in a frantic effort to dislodge Nathan, lashing at his skin with sharp, stinging slaps. But Nathan held firm, enduring the burning pain as he wrestled with the creature. With a quick motion, he emptied the black powder onto its chest and face, watching as it ignited in a series of violent pops.

The mimic shrieked louder, its movements growing even more desperate. In a brutal counter, one of its tendrils coiled around Nathan's arm and twisted with a sickening force. The bones in his arm gave way with a loud crack.

"ARGH!" Nathan's scream tore through clenched teeth as his left arm went limp, hanging uselessly at his side. Before he could react, the mimic delivered a crushing blow to his jaw, sending him flying backward. He crashed into the wall with a heavy thud, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs as pain exploded across his body.

"Damn it!" Ranch cursed, his voice breaking as he watched the creature stagger to its feet, its face and chest sizzling from the substance Nathan had smeared onto it.

"The stone..." Nathan's voice was hoarse, each breath labored. "T-Throw the stone!"

Ranch glanced down, hesitating only a moment before focusing on the stone clutched in his hand. Without another word, he hurled it toward the creature, aiming for its chest, which had already begun to melt and crack.

With the precision of a practiced pitcher, the stone flew through the maze of flailing tendrils and struck the mimic square in the chest.

A blinding light erupted, filling the room as green flames consumed the creature. Its screams rose to a fever pitch, echoing off the walls as it clawed at its own burning flesh, desperately trying to smother the flames eating away at its form.

"Exodamus!" The command escaped Nathan's lips in a strained whisper as he braced against the wall, attempting to push himself upright despite his injuries.

To Ranch's horror, the mimic's body convulsed, then exploded in a mass of black, tar-like substance that splattered across the icy floor, oozing like thick oil. Beneath the tar, a figure began to emerge—a woman with long, inky black hair, her crimson eyes rolling back as her weakened body slumped, lifeless, to the ground.

The black tar on the floor gathered itself a few feet from the fallen woman, trembling as it attempted to reshape.

Nathan, cradling his broken arm, limped toward the substance, wincing with each step. He knelt close, gritting his teeth through the pain, and began tracing symbols in an arc around the shifting black pool. When he finished, he closed his eyes, breathing softly into the frozen air, murmuring words that formed a delicate fog. The tar quivered violently before solidifying, turning to stone in a final, helpless tremor.

"Finally," Nathan exhaled, a cloud of warm breath vanishing into the air as he sank to the floor, sprawled out in exhaustion, finally yielding to the throbbing ache pulsing from his arm.

A deep rumble echoed through the room, much like when the red runes had first glowed on the walls. But this time, the air grew steadily warmer. Frost began to recede, and the ice that blanketed the floor and walls started to melt, forming small rivulets around them.

"Nathan," Ranch murmured, moving to his friend, who lay stretched out in a small pool forming from the thawing snow. He squatted beside Nathan, taking in the damage inflicted by the mimic. Aside from bruises and claw marks scattered across his body, his left arm was far worse—swollen, with a bruised skin that had taken on deep hues of blue and red.

But despite it all, Nathan managed a weak, familiar grin. "See? Told you we'd make it," he said, his voice faint, followed by a raspy cough.

Ranch let out a chuckle, the last of his anxiety melting away. "I guess I owe you one."