Necromancer For Hire- Arc 8

Arc 8, Chapter 41

The Responsibility

Pilate fell to the floor, convulsing as blood leaked out of his chest. He was gasping for breath, hands wrapped around his throat as he struggled to get air.

Hawkins took an uneasy step forward, a bead of sweat running down his face. His stomach churned when he noticed Pilate’s distinct lack of noise. He hadn't screamed or cried when Asher attacked him. He had taken all of that torture entirely silent, passive. Hawkins didn't want to think of the implications of that.

Another wet gasp from Pilate. He coughed, blood dripping down his chin. He was dying, Hawkins knew it.

But what was he supposed to do? He wasn't a healing or mage. He had no reason to even take care of him.

But Pilate was dying.

Asher said he was my responsibility now, right? Hawkins thought, kneeling down next to Pilate. I'll take him up on that challenge.

Gently, Hawkins scooped Pilate into his arms. Pilate weakly dug at his arms, groaning and whimpering. His head rolled forward, hair falling away from his face.

His right eye was swollen and bloodshot, but the change was unmistakable. Where a once dark green iris was, Pilate’s eye had turned scarlet, with a thin, reptilian pupil darting back and forth.

“Let...let me go…” Pilate rasped, digging his nails into Hawkins’ bicep. The color had drained from his sweat-covered face, his breath shallow and labored. He had the wild, fearful eyes of an cornered animal.

“I'm sorry, kid,” Hawkins murmured, a spike of pity flaring in his chest. He tried to avoid looking at the ever-expanding bloodstain on Pilate’s cream-colored sweater. In one quick motion, he heaved Pilate over his shoulder, letting his head rest against his back.

Hawkins threw one final glance over his shoulder. He wasn't exactly sure what a contract with an Überdragon consisted of, but he knew Pilate wouldn't be the same. Even in his weakened state, Pilate’s skin felt electric, radiating some type of power.

Hawkins’ boots pounded against the concrete as he darted into the hallway, his heart throbbing in his ears.

“You!” Hawkins barked, grabbing a man by the collar, “I need a doctor, someone who won't ask questions and takes cash.”

The man's eyes drifted to Pilate. “What's going on?”  

Blood was soaking through the back of Hawkins’ trenchcoat. He could feel Pilate struggling, his miserable attempts to breath creating a small puddle at his feet.

Hawkins pulled his gun, shoving the muzzle against the man’s temple. He gritted his teeth, green eyes burning with rage. “Did you not hear me? I asked you a question.”

The man blanched. “I, uh, there's an alley doctor down on Warrack street, behind the bar. He's not a healing mage, but he has a medical license.”

Hawkins nodded, shoving his gun back into his coat and pushing him aside. He laid a hand on Pilate’s back, giving him a reassuring pat. Pilate had started to shiver, his face lifeless.

“Hang in there, kid. You're gonna be okay.”

Author's Note- aaand that's the last main story chapter. theres an epilogue, tho.

:^) cliffhangers amirite ♡♡

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