Souls' Collision | ✔

E N D

~ Chapter Twenty Six ~

Chosen.

Liz stared at the words with eyes as gray and sunken as her spirit. Her entire body was fading away, numbing, half-way dead already. The torture had gone on all night. Maybe a week. By the end she hadn't been able to differentiate between unconciousness and death.

Was she dead?

Liz honestly couldn't tell. She'd woken up a while ago in a beautiful bed, in a beautiful room, but with her body ruined.

Chosen.

The words stared back, angry red, bleeding, each letter a series of deep gashes in her skin. They made her arm hurt like hell.  Liz didn't feel chosen, she felt cursed; scared to death by the fact that she hadn't heard anything from Red yet.

The mere thought of him brought some kind of comfort, but also made her painfully aware of how quiet the room was -- way too quiet.

As if her thoughts were heard, somewhere far off, maybe just all in her mind, people were talking. Liz ignored them against better judgement.

After what felt like an eternity, the handle was pushed down and the bedroom door creeked open. A lone tear rolled down Liz's cheek as steps lead to the bed.

An old face appeared above her. Narrowed, curious eyes scouring her body. "Are you compliant now, avatar?"

Liz could only nod. Even if she wanted to her body was unable to fight back anymore.

"Then we shall begin the ritual."

"The... ritual?"

The man remained silent a moment too long before setting himself down by the foot of the bed. "Indeed," he said solemnly. "You are the avatar -- a part of the Godess rests in you. We know so, She has told us so."

Liz couldn't help but to give the man a bitter smile which soon distorted into a pained gasp. She hugged her arm close, groaned even from the simple action. "This is how you treat your godesses?"

"She is hurting. She is weak. The moon has not been full in too long... We need to grant her strength." His eyes glowed with something manic. "And you are honored to be the transmitter of that strength once we gift you back to Her."

Liz could sense a bad feeling creep up her gut.

"As your soul leaves your body, Her strength will be released of its earthly shackles and once more grant us the beauty of the moon as it graces the skies."

"My soul... How are you going to take my soul?"

The man stared at her for a second before slowly, deliberately, reaching into the loose fabric of his robe and bringing out something glaring in the light.

"With this knife, plunged into your heart."

×

The sacrificial hall was lit up by candle light, a flare in the midst of the dark forest. It was a cylindrical building, made of bricks since long run down and lacking a roof. In the daytime it didn't look like more than old ruins but by then it was sparking with energy.

A chant pulsated within the cylinder, emitting from the robed men standing along the wall. In the middle was a rectangular rock sticking up from the ground, lined with candles, on which Liz was laying. She wasn't moving even though a knife was hovering inches from her chest.

Her body was limp, her eyes closed.

"He's going to kill her, we have to do something now," Red hissed, glanced up from underneath his hood.