Pyrrha: A New Beginning

Episode 6: Life After Death

When the Stranded emerged from the trapdoor in the floor of the farmhouse, they were shocked to see the damage that mother nature had done. It looked like a nuke had gone off. The entire roof of the farmhouse had been ripped to shreds and the floorboards looked like the result of some kind of tiger fight. There were huge lascerations in the walls and what appeared to be claw marks in the floor.

When the fourty-strong crowd came flooding out of the ruinous farmhouse, they were all saddened to see what their home had become.

The tents were reduced to tatters. They were like tent carcasses with canvas flesh hanging off their steely grey bones. It was eerily silent and it was insanely tense, like walking through a fresh battlefield. At least the sun was out and any remnants of Razorhail were mostly melted now.

Pyrrha tensely made her way through the campsite, clutching the cross around her neck. Her eyes were still red from crying earlier and she was just about ready to burst back into tears at any moment.

Elijah, where are you?

She scanned left and right, seeing the sheer destruction a pile of ice from the sky could do. The tents didn't even have walls anymore, they were just grey poles sticking out of the ground with shreds of canvas draped over them. A majority of each tent was lying on the floor in a pile of destroyed furniture, torn clothes and even medical supplies.

All of it, torn to shreds.

Pyrrha ignored it as best she could. She scanned the crowds around her, who were searching through their tents, rumaging through broken belongings and sorting through destroyed furniture. She must've looked at the same people five thousand times now, but she just had to make sure that Johnson was with them.

A high pitched scream lifted the heavy silence.

Pyrrha's senses heightened, she turned to the source of the sound to see a little girl standing over a dead body. Pyrrha's eyes went wide with shock and she inherently sprinted over to the dead body. The wet smell of blood became ever more potent as she approached the body, but she didn't care. She had to make sure it wasn't Johnson.

As soon as Pyrrha arrived at what appeared to be a crime scene she was hit by both a wave of shock and comforted by a warming relief as she stared at the mutilated body.

Its not him... Thank God... Pyrrha thought

The man was face-down in a gigantic pool of his own blood and by the looks of it, a murderer had stabbed him in the back in excess of 50 times. Gigantic lacerations were all over him and even his bones were sliced to pieces. It was like looking at the result of trying to cut a tomato with a spoon.

"Oh my lord, baby, don't look!" A new voice appeared behind Pyrrha. She spun to the source of the sound to see the little girl bury herself in the comfort of her mother's embrace. Pyrrha had completely forgotten about the little girl.

Glaster's eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe how much damage a simple storm could do his campsite, his dream. His dream of a civilised life had been torn to oblivion.

He watched everyone scavenge their belongings from the base of the gentle hill at the edge of the forest, trying to catch his breath as he did so.

His few soldiers were around him, trying to console him with reassuring pats on the shoulder.

"What's the situation?" Glaster said with tears flowing from his eyes. The soldiers all around him, who were completely armourless, exchanged concerned glances.

"What's the situation!?" Glaster screamed like a madman. Some people almost a hundred meters away stopped what they were doing. The soldiers all took a deep sigh and Ave stepped foward.