Sullen Moon

Lost Winds of Limbo

The darkness was alive. Like headless snakes it writhed around in the small room, never reaching past the ill light produced by a rusted lantern that sat on a small stool. Black fingers pleaded for just a feel of the man who lay on the ragged cot, unconscious. From all angles, they extended a thousand hands with vile intent. He moaned and started to sweat. Voices filled his dreams which quickly turned into nightmares, begging to taste the blood that was guarded beneath his flesh. A wind stirred in through the window that was closed only moments before. With a drawn-out hiss, the light sputtered out, allowing the shadows to lunge like some drug-crazed beast.

There was a loud crash, and then the door slammed open and broke against the wall. Three men entered, one holding a torch and waving it about like a weapon, growling loudly. The two men turned on flashlights that were on their hips. The darkness retreated with a high pitched shriek, crawling back into the cracks of the building in which it first came. The man in the bed was awake now and rose up with urgency, scanning the room with alert eyes. "Where am I?" he questioned with venom and panic, dragging himself against the wall. "Who are you?"

"That's not important for the time being." the one with the torch said, and he saw that the speaker was an older man with a bearded face. He took to closing the window and relighting the lantern. The other two men just stood guard at the door, holding battered hunting rifles and periodically checking behind them, where the hallway was dimly lit. The man went to stand, but only managed to fall onto the floor. Coughing, his head started to swim. What was wrong with him?

"By the light, son. You're still sick. Stay still." said the old man.

"The name is Erik Caine, not son." He replied, going into a coughing fit that left him wheezing.

Then there were howls in the distance. The two men with the firearms looked nervous, and one started to phrase off what sounded like a prayer with a heavy voice. He was calm, the other not so much. "The acteons! They are coming. I knew we shouldn't have stopped for the night. Screw what that fat fool said, we could've been at the ship by now." the other said while pacing back and forth.

"Silence!" hissed the old man, drawing a sword from the scabbard that hung from his back. It was a dull silver but glistened in the light. He now seemed all the more imposing, his muscular body hidden beneath a brown long sleeve shirt and black jeans. "We will hold for as long as we can, or at least make a retreat when the time is right. We must protect the boy and get him to the overseer." he stared down at the two men, who were obviously younger than him by a few decades.

The sound of shattering glass came from below, and the two men turned sharply, weapons raised and ready. Erik went to stand, but only managed to fall. The old man helped him back up onto the bed in a sitting position, with a few curses from the weak individual. One of the rifles went off, followed by savage cries of pain. Several more shots, one after another echoed into the hallway. "There's so many!" the frantic soldier shouted as he tried to reload his gun with shaky hands. An arrow flew by and stuck into his shoulder. Before he could react, two more arrows struck him and he fell with a cry, lifeless.

The old man held his sword forward. "Ethan, Help the man while I clear us a safe passage." the rifleman named Ethan nodded, and the older man charged down the hallway with a vicious war cry that seemed to shake the house. There were more hollers of pain and fear from what seemed to be animals, and grunts of exertion mixed in.

"Who is he?" asked Erik, as the man slung his rifle and lifted his arm over his shoulder.

"His name is Ghennis Leary, and he's the captain of the Raiders One. Now, no more talking, you need to save your energy." They walked over to the hallway, and it was filled with dismembered limbs and piles of guts and chunks of meat. Was this the doing of a single man? He was a monster with the sword. They slowly made their way down a flight of stairs, to a small room with the same horrific scene. A table with a white cloth over it held a skeleton of a human, with vines wrapping around the bones.