(A/N: I'm not sure whether or not to put a trigger warning here but just in case. This will have death, gore, some strong language etc. Again I'm not sure if this is needed but just to be sure. Ok bai~)
The room was just as it has been left; withered under the immobile film of dirt and decay. The once vivid green walls had grown old and become a sickly grey.
The wooden floor had become bitter; treacherous to those who dared walk on it for each rotten board threatened to snap.
Wind screeched through the window's shattered frame, making the door on the far side of the room quiver and groan on its hinges.
The single bed had since toppled over, its worn legs too weak to stand, leaving its only occupant crumpled on the floor. From there, she stared at something across the room.
The family portrait. It had clung to the flaking wall for years, held up by silver-lined threads of hope. But truth had been cold and sharp, slicing through the fibres. Now the picture lay defeated on the floor, its glass broken, its photo stained with blood.
Still, Carina stared at this, like she had a number of times before. But, this time was different. Though stiff, the Auralin could somehow move at her own will. Once realisation of this set in, Carina forced herself to stand, her limbs working in pained cooperation. Locking her knees, she stood up straight and glanced out the broken window to find that a fog had since set in. Or had it always been there? Without thinking much of it, Carina carefully approached the rattling door instead, wrapping her fingers around the stone-cold handle and pulled it open despite the ancient wood's creaks of protest.
The hallway was darker and as decrepit as the room she'd stepped out of, the floorboards squeaking underfoot. Glancing to the left, Carina found that the ceiling had collapsed at some point allowing dim and desperately thin rays of light to slink in. Some of these illuminated sections of the demonic corpse trapped underneath, which, when spotted, caused Carina to unintentionally flinch. After a moment, she turned away to find the stairs. But, what was slowly dripping down them told her it was all downhill from there.
Blood.
The iron-like smell of it filled the Auralin's nose, something she should have been used to at this point, but instead it almost made her gag. Forcing the feeling down, she descended the stairs, cringing internally whenever she stepped in the sticky fluid.
Reaching the bottom, Carina noticed long streaks of it on the floor as if something had been...dragged along. Following the crimson trail to the point it turned into a room only further confirmed the sickening theory.
But, the final nail in the coffin was what lay inside.
Carina staggered back into the wall, heart thrashing against her ribcage. Her breaths came out in short gasps as she stared with wide eyes into the room.
Sprawled on the floor was the corpse of a woman, a mother named Jane.
Her blue eyes, almost as pale as her withered skin, were glazed over and lifeless. Her once flowing, brown hair was now matted with blood, the source of which was the fatal wound in her side.
The memory of how her mother received it ravaged Carina's mind. The vivid images, the sensations, but nothing was worse than the voices, the sounds. Each one was distorted, yet clear as day.
...Go...Kayden, k-keep our little girl safe...promise me...
Carina there's nothing we can do! We have to leave now!
Just as she had back then, the Auralin darted from her old home, slamming her shoulder into the door to force it open.
As she tried to stop again, her momentum made her topple onto all fours.
Through the fog, wispy figures were emerging; fighting, running, collapsing, dying.
They were humans, Angels and Demons.
The EndWar, it was happening there and then.
Picking herself up, Carina attempted to form a blade, but to no avail. It was as if her ability to do so had been stripped away, or as it were, yet to be awoken.
Gazing at the death and destruction she was all too familiar with, the Auralin knew she had to get out of there.
Picking a random direction, Carina sprinted headlong into the fog.
Part of her knew none of this was real, but her actual memories couldn't have been more different.
But, real or not, it was sheer torture.
YOU ARE READING
Darksiders: Riders and Rogues (Book 2)
Fiksi Penggemar"What pains you more? The wound left by the shot of a gun? Or the one from the knife to your back?" When an old Nephilim secret is dragged from its grave by power-hungry hands, trust and hope come into question as the fate of all Creation is once a...
