The Weakest Don't Bow

The Bell

Published: March 31st, 2019

Word Count: 1971
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Almost unwillingly, Mary opened her eyes. She stared at the outstretched hand that bore sharp claw like nails that were soaked and stained pure black. The hand was bony as it reached, and reached over. One claw had hooked itself on a lock of her chocolate brown hair, or was brown hair. Now it just looked muddled with tears and blood. It clumped together as the blood dried and it felt like an invasion of personal space. Within a millisecond, the hooded figure was inches from her own face. The hood and beast itself was so inked black, she couldn't tell if her eyes were truly open or not. It was dark and she couldn't see the sclera or the iris in the deep face. It was pitch black like a nightmare, and it terrified her. If she was an actual human being right now, she would have wet herself.

The inked bodily figure with the bony hands laughed as it twirled that crusty, bloodied lock of hair. It laugh so much, the cloth that hung on itself jumped. It was as if you were in a hallucinating, somewhere pitch black, maybe like a blackout when bright white teeth stretched from one side to another. It's grin wasn't like that metaphor. It was twice the size of her oval face, and all she saw was teeth, rows and rows of teeth that faded into the hood. It was bony, yeah, but the fact that the teeth went even father then the average human set of teeth, it made her want to faint.

Breathing was so difficult, it was like the most difficult thing in her life. Tears cascaded faster and she felt herself choking in the presence of the demon that killed before her very eyes.

She knows she's going to be next.

Hell, even Dean, Nick, and James thought she was next. That's what kept them clinging onto her. They knew she was dead the moment she opened her eyes.

The hand dropped the lock of hair them grabbed her face roughly, its palm almost consuming her face, its fingers acting like a jaw or a bear trap, digging its sharp ends in the five places behind her head. She could feel hot, sickly, and sticky blood of hers run down her headful of hair, down her neck, soaking into her shirt and down her back.

She faded subtly like the boy that was in Dean's arms, minutes and minuets ago.

Dean felt it, the same painfyl betrayal feeling as he crashed into Nick, as James fell on top of him. She was gone.

Mary was gone.

Ethan commanded everyone else to keep their eyes shut until he said to. Rin whimpered as he asked for Mary. People began to shudder. That demon was still lurking around, causing this chaos, this thick fear, and death that stained the minds of many.

The bony figure dragged Mary's helpless body through the isle. It dragged her where all the blood came together and where the bodies hung. She was thrown carelessly as she was given a full view of the corpses that once were living beings on the bus she shared. A boulder nested itself in the pit of her stomach, with the words carved in it. She felt somewhat responsible. Blood dripped from the feet of one of the boys, on landed on her hand. She paled as she saw the mouth hung open with its eyes pinned open. Somewhere, it was still screaming, somewhere it was still feeling pain. Chant's words echoed through her head, "-but it's not as if you can even feel tired or hungry here."

'Did that also include pain?' Mary thought. She saw the bodies smoking into that ugly smell that only burnt human flesh, hair, and blood make. The flesh was burning lightly, yet she could see the white of the bones in the fingertips of their fingers.

The figure darkly chuckled as it, she would guess a male from the deep tone in its voice, stared at Mary and her reaction.

"The boys' souls were maroon, just like the eyes they wore. You girl, you Wanted, were very much like them, the same dark blood pools of eyes."