Adam grabbed the monk by his neck and strangled him with all his might. The monk struggled, clawing at his arm. The strength rune in Adam's arm drained the monk of his vitality, while his iron grip made it impossible for the monk to breath. His struggles reduced to weak flailing as his lips turned blue and he wheezed his last breath. Even after the monk's death, Adam refused to let go of him. Instead, he pulled with greater might. The monk's neck snapped under his grip and even then he refused to let go.

Adam stared at his uncle, frozen in fear as he clung on to the corpse, he sat on his heels and gently prodded his uncle with a gloved hand. "He is dead! Let him go. He no longer breaths" He

whispered to his uncle, his hand urging Adam to release the corpse.

"Wha..." Adam looked at Arash, his eyes skittish with wear. His lips trembled as realization dawned on him. He looked at the monk in his hands, hidden beneath a veil of darkness. The darkness brought him little relief as he couldn't see the face of the man he had killed. But he could feel it, feel it through his hand and before the dread hit him, his hands snapped back as he scrambled to his feet. He stood in silence, taking comfort in the darkness that enveloped him.

Arash looked at his uncle and turned towards the dead monks hanging by the sharp spikes of granite. Blood had painted their robes black and it had started to smell. Sweet, coppery smell. The perfume of death, Arash thought. "Did my brother smell like that..." Arash tried to remember, but the memory seemed to fear him as it always escaped him. He shook his head as he tried to suck the strength from dead corpses; the strength-rune seemed to have no taste for they didn't even stir. Arash sighed as he pushed the corpses towards the wall, making way to pass through. The steps were slick with blood, but Adam scarcely seemed to notice it; he moved with a haunted look, his steps listless. Arash thought to relieve his uncle from this wretched experience, but in the end, decided to let him be.

"We have been waiting for hours. I am telling they are still on the first floor. Hiding somewhere. We are only wasting our time." A frustrated voice climbed up the flight of stairs.

"We have our orders, the master said... What! Where?"

A man appeared in the bottom of the stairs, while another one appeared at the top. Arash felt his stomach turn. 'How could I forget!' He cursed at himself, his gaze dancing between the men at the bottom and on the top. He scoured every bit of will he had at the moment and was able to create 4 more spike-runes. His heart drummed in his chest. The monks would soon be upon him. 'There are twenty of them, bellow... Argh and I don't know how many of them are above.' He gritted his teeth as two of rune sailed up the flight of stairs.

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"Fou..." shouts turned to startled gasps; the granite beneath the monk's feet shot towards the ceiling at an oblique angle, impaling four monks to death and blocking the path.

"You bastard!" Men growled at him from above and below. Arash turned towards his uncle. 'Where is he?' Suddenly he heard a loud roar and saw figure hurtling down the stairs. He saw his uncle mid-jump, sailing towards the bald monks.

Adam crashed into a short squat monk with a muffled groaned, his arms a rapid flurry of brows as he rolled down the stairs while pummeling the monk. Arash jumped at the chance his uncle had created and lunged through the clear path. On his descent, he heard a loud ululating sound and for a moment his vision blurred. "What happened?" his foot slipped under him as he felt weightless… hard stairs bit into his back as his vision returned to him. He saw golden mist surrounding him, striking at his soul with fiery yellow spears.

Arash glanced back and saw the monks singing in high rasping voice, their notes rising and falling as the attacks of the mist. Arash tapped into his soul and found nothing but blinding pain. He bitterly stared at the floating brown spike-rune. Suddenly they didn't seem like a good idea. Once again the golden spears attacked him, he tried to dodge, but the narrow staircase left little room to maneuver. He hatefully glanced at the singing wood. "The spikes!" Suddenly one of the runes flew towards the two inclined runes. It merged with the slanted granite and the songs suddenly stopped. Thick blood trickled down the steep stairs and bald monks stood, skewered by a thick spike of granite.

The monks below had started to recover from the initial shock. It didn't take long for them to understand Adam's queerness. No one dared to come near, near. The monks used their songs to render him incapacitated.

"Surrender! There is only one exit out of this building and I am looking at it." A slender bald monk stood behind the wall. Arash could see him standing behind the wall. He could see every monk through his soul-eye. He ground his teeth in frustration as he closed his eyes and focused on his soul-bond...