The patter of voices begin to fade and I'm left swimming in a sea of silence as I gradually make my way to the infirmary. Sloshing through the shallow puddles of water, I begin to think.
The soul killed my parents! I'm going to slit its throat and have it drown in its own blood.
I spread my arms wide as drag my palm over the rocks and roots that shoot out of the wall. Inhale. Exhale.
A sharp pain runs through my hand and up to my arm. My boots shriek as I come to an abrupt stop in the tunnel. I quickly grab my hand and stare at the blood that gushes from my palm.
I must have sliced it on a rock. Shit
My thoughts seem to echo. Before I can wrap my hand with my belt, I hear footsteps running down the tunnel ahead of me. Wiping the blood off on my pants and wincing from the pain, I brace myself and throw on a translucent smile.
"May!"
Panting, Doctor. Grimes checks his watch and then looks back at the dirt caked curtains that cover the entrance into the infirmary. His lab coat that used to be white is now brown and stained with splatters of blood. His hair is grey and is pulled back into a small ponytail in the back of his head. He reminds me of my grandpa when I was a child. I begin to smile at the memories that rewind in my head of my grandfather and I, but the smile vanishes as quickly as it had come.
"You must keep watch, Abram has called a meeting"
Grimes heave.
"Is the soul awake?"
I strain to see into the infirmary.
"Yes, but it is bound"
I flick my eyes and search his softly wrinkled face for more information. My mouth begins to open, but quickly shuts when Grimes waves his hand.
"Not much time to talk, I have to go May! Oh, and do not forget, what ever you do, do not talk to the soul!"
Before I can press him for more information, he is half way down the tunnel with his lab coat billowing behind him. I stand there. Silent.
The curtains are the only thing that separate me from the soul and the soul from it's executioner. Soft subtle movements float throw the curtains and feed my imagination. The chains clang and drag across the ground.
Why is it moving? It senses me.
My hand tightens around the knife that hangs from my belt. I slide through the curtains leaving a trail of dark red blood behind me. A single drop of red hits the floor.
I nearly scream as my boots step into the infirmary.
