Writing Short #3

I steel myself. Broken and hollow, I bear my worn body and stand in defiance against a massive horde. Men, withered and deformed beyond recognition, yell their battle cries at me from uphill. Their faces disfigured from corruption and disease, with some having their armor imbued onto their blighted flesh. The sight of it disgusts me but it’s ironic that I am the same as them.

I close my eyes as a surge of bloodlust flows throughout my body. My vision turns red with strange symbols and lines appearing over the heads of hordes. I try my best to resist but the urge to spill blood is overwhelming. I tightly hold my shield, worn from the endless battle I have been facing, and charged foolishly into enemy. I grab a spear stuck into a corpse while running and hurl it like a javelin, impaling one of them and marking first blood. The rest shout in anger and charges unto me like a massive tide. I struck the shield rim into the ground, anchoring it to serve as a wall and wield my blood stained axe.

Soon after, the wave reaches me. The force of impact was so great that several enemies were crushed behind my shield as the stampede continues. The others circle around me, having me surrounded and facing impossible odds. I grin wryly as a swing my axe deep into the chest of one of them. The other attacks but I quickly bash him with my elbow and heave my axe free from the first. I then swing it and crudely slicing the neck of the other. As more followed, the more have fallen to my axe.

I quickly grab a shield from a fallen warrior and rush a blitzkrieg through the enemy ranks, tirelessly cutting down scores of damned men. I was immersed with their dark blood but washed away as the rain came in. My rage grows with every kill and as it does, my body becomes much stronger still. I was becoming consumed by it, more and more so with the rising tally of slain foes. It’s only a matter of time until I’m completely corrupted by this curse that granted me unholy strength.

Hours pass, a small fraction of the horde is dead and the number of dead rises. I systematically switch weapons and shields, taken from the slain in order to make even more. It was a brutal cycle that I find to be comical. Hours still, I’ve cut down probably a quarter of the enemy but many still stand and ready to die by my hand. My blows begin to get stronger and quicker, some having to able to slice through several at once. I barely notice it at first but now, it’s overwhelming.

The day turns to night as the battle begins to take its toll. Although my attacks seem to be able to kill with brutal efficiency, I feel my heart getting weaker and my breathing shallower. I have only slain the half of the horde but still so many keen on killing me. There were some who are giants, wielding gigantic mauls that can easily crush a man. Facing one of them in this weakened state, I hesitate to attack it but I make a foolish charge anyway. The monster holds up its crude weapon and pounds the ground, barely evading it. The force was so great, I stumbled.

I then felt a spear thrusts into my back. It bursts out of my chest in full view. My blood ran pale as several more spears and blades were thrust through me. Death was nigh… I grin wryly to know that I will die in such a way. It was a warrior’s way to die, though mine is probably overkill. I laugh at the idea as my world fell dark. I was dead…

I let myself sink into darkness when a beautiful voice calls out to me. “Betsalel, my fair Betsalel! What have become of thee!” a voice call from nowhere. I turn and search for the voice but to no avail. “Betsalel, my brave Betsalel! What have happened to thee! My heart quakes to see you in such form!”

“Who… Who are you?” I ask, utterly confused.”

“I am your patron god, my beloved Betsalel. Before the day you came to be, you were already my champion, o great knight.” The voice claims as two lights appear in front of me.

“Patron god? Why? I’ve sold my soul, I’ve damned many others, and I’ve spilled the blood of countless lives. Why have I become a champion to an agent of Heaven?”

“It’s because you have a heart of a champion and the conviction of a holy man, young one. Your cause is true and just but your way of achieving this cause is dark and wicked. I have come to give you one final chance of redemption, Betsalel. I, Synthia, will guide you on your path.”

A blinding light flash before my eyes as an enchanting woman appear. Her eyes glow with a brilliant radiance as she walks closer to me. For the first time, I was scared. The fear was too great and I cannot bear it. I tried to crawl away while facing her. She frowns and holds her hand to me. I stop and hesitate.

“I’m… afraid of you… What are you?” I ask her with my cracking voice.

“It pains me to see you like this, my champion. Not being able to see the truth, it is as much as I feared. The corruption made you fear the light. Trust me, Betsalel. I am here to help you. I am your maker.” She then jumps on me after speaking her words. I can feel a burden being lifted from me as she holds my frail body. My soul is being relieved of its pain and sorrow. I embrace her as she falls on me. Her silver hair dazzles me with its beauty. I cannot believe that my own maker would feel such affection towards me.

“Betsalel… I want you to live. The council does not and I will banish from the host of Haven.” says Synthia in a sorrowful tone. I couldn’t say anything for this deep wanting of her grows inside of me. I was about to speak when, “Betsalel… I want to be with you. Yes, I shall guide you as you redeem yourself but…” she embraces me and lays her head on my shoulder. “I want us to be together.” She lets go of me and so did I. I quickly stand and hold my hand for her to take. She does and I help her stand. I was about to speak when she stops me with her finger and gives me a cheerful smile. “I do not wish to abide to Haven’s will, Betsalel. My choice has been made and I want to be with my beloved, my creation, you, Betsalel.”

We embrace each other once more as her radiance glow brighter. She smiles sweetly and then leans closer to me. She closes her eyes and was ready for me. I close my eyes as well while leaning to her. Our lips meet and we kiss in the darkness. I can feel her warmth flow through my mouth. I hold her tighter and stop.

I open my eyes to see ourselves in a lush countryside. Grass wave along the wind while birds sing from the trees, I was look to my lover to see that she’s sleeping. I lay her down to the soft ground and watch the scenery in front of me. It’s like everything is so new and strange to me. This is a great change in my life, perhaps this is a new life and the old me is dead. The things that happened are too much for me to fully understand. I have a god, my own maker, as my lover while a chance to redeem my cursed soul. Is this all a dream? Is this just fantasy? Or is it just all a lie? I do not know but what I know is that this is a new start. I could change myself and start something new. Perhaps, a new beginning with my loving god, Synthia… “This is all a lie…” I mumble to myself.