Past the Edge (An Item for Greed Book 1)

Chapter 8- Damage

I’m at a bit of a road block, as i have writers block. But don’t worry, this story is nowhere near ending just because of a little writers block. In fact, this story is still just beginning.

An Item For Greed

Chapter 8

Damage

He was sitting in a dark room. It was just after midnight, one mere week after Sam and himself had destroyed the monsters. The night when one of the monsters had torn open his forearm, the wound was burning, causing him agony.

Through a small barred window high upon the wall, a tiny amount of moonlight filtered through. Castor stood up off of the small camp-bed, and stood below the window, and he examined his arm. From his elbow to his wrist, was a deep gash in his flesh, caused by one of the monsters claws. Blood was smeared on the skin around the scythe, and it was now drying and flaking off in places. The wound itself was oozing with yellowed pus, and an infection was already beginning. The start of the infection was simply a green, festering paste covering parts of the scrape. It hurt terribly, but yet he couldn’t do anything about it.

Castor and Sam were being held captive by the townsfolk. No one had ever survived, let alone killed the monsters, so the villagers were scarred. They had locked Sam and Castor up without second thought. They hoped that with this form of quarantine, any viruses that they now possessed from their encounter with the monsters would have died. Sam had been told that they would be released within a fortnight, but Castor hadn't been given any information. Castor and Sam had also not been given anything to treat their wounds with, so they simply had to wait it out- no matter how painful it was.

*

-A Fortnight Later-

Sam was awoken abruptly in the early hours of the morning. Someone had grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled him out of his cell. “Let me go,” he murmured, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“No, you must leave the city before dawn. The people cant know that you are gone. They will panic if they see you leave. Now, what cell is that other boy in?” asked an unfamiliar voice.

“How would i know what cell he's in?” Sam asked the voice, sarcasm clearly intentional. “Wait,” Sam said, and he then stopped walking. “Who are you, and where are you taking me?” Sam asked, unsure about what he should do next.

“I'm taking you out of the city, do you ever listen?” the voice said, then pulled Sam behind him as he started to walk again. Sam followed silently until they reached a long corridor, the barred doors of more cells were positioned every few feet. The voice stopped in front of one that was near the edge of the row. Loud screams bounced off of the cell walls. The air was thick with pain, and misery.

Lying curled up in the corner of his cell, was Castor. He was screaming profusely, and he was clutching his forearm. His fingers were curled up, and cutting into the palm of his hand in pure agony. Blood was smeared all over his arm, some of it fresh, some of it dried. The infection seemed to be eating through his flesh, and had no intentions of stopping when it met bone. The infection, by now not only occupied the gash, but also the surrounding flesh. One could simply call it a festering pit of pain and anguish.

Castor screamed again. Tears were visible on his face, and were flowing freely from his eyes. Sam gasped at the sight of his friend. “What is that on his arm?” Sam asked the voice, sounding alarmed.

“It's a virus. It will eat him from the inside out. Eventually, if you don’t kill it soon, he will be nothing but an empty shell.” the voice said simply.

“Well how do i kill it?” Sam asked, desperation beginning to set into his voice. Castor screamed again from withing his cell.

“Go to the town of Silveround, and find Ms. Bayon. She will be able to kill the virus, But you must hurry before it spreads,” the voice told Sam.

Sam stepped forward, into Castor's cell, and approached his screaming friend. “Castor, its me Sam. Can you get up?” Sam cautiously asked his friend. Castor nodded slightly. Sam then helped him up, and walked him out of the cell.

“Follow me,” the voice said. Sam and Castor followed the voice without question, and soon they were at the city gates. Waiting for them were two pearly white horses. Castor and Sam took the horses, and began their trek to the city of Silveround.