They were outside, sizzling fists slamming on the door. The heavy table and numerous pieces of furniture slumped against it were their only salvation. Even if he couldn't see the door as it was hidden behind the table it was no doubt on its last legs, sooner or later they would get in.
Théodore had no doubts about that and looking around at his bloodied compatriots he knew they felt the same way, “Félix, any luck with that lock?” Sébastien yelled out, voice dull and lifeless.
“I'm close, how long will the barricade hold?" Félix yelled back, sounding just as dispirited as Sébastien. Théodore couldn't blame them, it had been their idea to set the horde aflame. It cost them five brothers and doomed a further three to death when the burning monstrosities tore their way through their defensive line.
“Holy Seer be willing it will hold for another ten minutes, wouldn't test their goodwill though.” Sébastien replied, forcing out a chuckle. His white trousers trousers and blood splattered uniform made him look almost like a ghost when combined with his pale skin and white hair.
As if to prove his words a particularly loud snap resonates around the room, as one of the abominations likely managed to rip off a whole plank from the battered door, thankfully they still had to contend with the table which was poorly nailed over the doorway, not to mention the dozen haphazardly thrown pieces of furniture behind it.
Moving their musket around anxiously Théodore moved forwards ever so slightly so they could get a better angle at the doorway, even if the monster’s faces were still hidden by the table he could imagine how ferocious their empty eyesockets looked. By the Holy Seer how could they still hunt them down even with no eyes, he doubted they could smell them, maybe it was mana based.
There were tales of great monks capable of seeing spirits due to their strong control over mana, perhaps it was the same for them?
“IT’S OPEN!” Shouted Félix shouted out, voice ripe with hope but even as his exhausted comrades let out a ragged cheer, Théodore couldn't feel even a trace of jubilation come over him.
Absentmindedly holstering his musket and rushing into the tunnel with his remaining few companions, he thought over his nihilistic idea, travellers had been absent from their small town for days, not a single peddler or tourist had graced them in a full week. This could only happen if they were surrounded on all sides by those fiends.
If what he guessed was true, there would be no escape, they would just be running to die in the woods rather than within the town. “Théodore, snap out of it.” he muttered out loud.
“You okay?” murmured a voice behind him, glancing back to see his friend Alexandre slightly panting behind him, sweet trickling down his shiny forehead. Théodore didn’t quite know how to respond. “sorry dumb question.”
“It’s alri-.” tripping over a nasty rock Théodore planted face first into the dirt, almost hitting the heels of Sébastien and knocking him down too. “Aghhh.” He groaned, slightly inching himself up with his hands like he was doing a push up. Hot blood spilling down his nose and splattering onto the pale dirt.
“Shit.” A firm hand grasped his shoulder, roughly yanking him up, before Théodore could thank Alexandre he was pushed forward, almost stumbling onto the ground from the force. “Just, just keep moving, we’ve got to get out. We’re so close” Despite being the one who was injured Alexandre sounded like he was in even more agony than he was.
So staggering forward Théodore began to jog after the others, Alexandre right behind him. soon he was once again back to being just behind Sébastien, after spitting out what felt like litres of blood along the way.
Alexandre was right though, they were close, so very close. Just one more turn and a few dozen feet and they would enter the sanctuary.
From there it was a simple matter of boarding up the oak door and gathering enough supplies to last their march towards.
They could do this, they could actually survive. Despite his reluctance Théodore couldn't help but smile, they had a chance.
Then just as he entered the turn, a shrill shriek of pure terror resonated through the tunnel and his smile died.
Fueled by momentum he was unable to stop himself as he smashed into Sébastien’s frozen back bringing the both of them down, and with a grunt Alexandre collapsed onto the duo as well.
“SHIT SHIT SHIT AHHGGGGHHH-” The desperate screaming ceased, cut off by a horrific ripping sound.
Scrambling to his feet Alexandre got off Théodore and Sébastien, rushing forwards, towards the sanctuary.
Momentary shocked, Théodore quickly shook off the fog clouding his mind and also rose to his feet, unconsciously offering a hand to Sébastien as he did so. The burly man’s sweaty hand grasped his and with a quick yank Théodore pulled him up.
The screaming was inter merged with the sounds of musket fire now as well as shouting.
Théodore took a quick moment to brace himself, offering a silent prayer up to the Holy Seer as he before sprinting forwards to face the monstrosities alongside his outmatched comrades.
The sturdy oak door was shattered, dangerous shards of wood littering the floor of the tunnel as far as a few feet from the door frame. Stepping on them and shattering them further, Théodore charged vaulting over what little remaining of the lower half of the door he entered the sanctuary.
It was a colossal room, carved out when the first settlers had arrived on this land, meant to serve as a safe house in times of war and a storeroom in times of peace. Now it was filled with twisted parodies of man and desperate soldiers fighting them off with blade and gun.
Almost choking as a small clot of blood went down the wrong pipe Théodore mentally checked his connection. It was something he should have done before but it had slipped his mind in his panic to help his fellow remaining soldiers.
It was still stable though, so with the scraps of will he had left he channelled what little remained of his mana through the mana vein and sent it into the Busken musket. Consolidating around the Tallion rod.
Sighting Félix pinned under the weight of one of the demons he pointed his musket at it, praying his aim would be true before urging forth his mana.
A brilliant ray of pure blue shot out from the musket, piercing cleanly through the abomination's chest and even continuing on, taking out a hunk of clay and dirt from the wall.
Despite the devastating wound they were still moving though. Their spine and most of their stomach region had been obliterated, the bottommost ribs exposed for all the world to see. Only some scraps of ligaments and tendons connected their torso to their legs and head. It didn't even faze them, they were still trying to kill Félix.
Hyperventilating Théodore watched in abject horror as it overpowered him and tore into his throat with its yellow teeth. He watched as Félix died gurgling on the floor. He watched as another one of his companions fell to the abominations.
Then a heavy hand clapped him from behind.”Focus, we can’t run we fight or we die.” Turning around he saw Sébastien standing there with a grimace on his face and a hand axe in his hand.
It would seem that his friend had completely foregone using his musket, instead choosing to engage them in melee.
Unlike Sébastien Théodore had a far less stocky frame, standing only five foot six tall and with lithe muscles. After a moment's hesitation though he drew his bayonet out of its sheath. With no time to attach it to his musket and not wanting to wait any longer for fear of becoming stilled by despair, Théodore charged towards the monster currently feasting on Félix’s corpse.
In a rage born of fear and desperation, he leaps upon the creature that he once knew, hacking and stabbing at its neck. It tries to roll over but with his weight pressing down upon its shoulders and the lack of control over its legs and lower back it instead flops about like a fish.
It still manages to twist its head around though, almost like an owl, with shaking hands Théodore takes this opportunity to plunge his bayonet into its bloodless eye, Aqueous humor spewing up onto his hands from the penetrated eye. Holding back his urge to vomit he brings his blade up and plunges it back down, again and again. Until finally, it stops moving.
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A momentary surge of guilt overwhelms him but looking over at its remaining undamaged eye helps affirm his stance that this was no human. His uncle was a doctor specialising in Maltox treatment, and from a young age he had helped him in his shop. Maltox could be identified by looking at the patient's eyes and so naturally he leant how to do that.
It was strange to say but he probably knew the most about eyes and healing in his whole regiment, the eyes of this, thing. They weren't human, not even close. They were like glass eyes, bloodless and unfocused, yet clear.
“Ugh” A grunt quickly snaps him out of his thoughts as he realises just where he is and what's going on.
Ripping the bayonet out from its skull Théodore twists around to the noise, seeing Sébastien with his axe buried in the skull of one of the fiends. Then with another grunt, he kicks out with his left foot, sweeping the monster's feet out from under it and causing it to collapse.
Looking around the room Théodore can see similar scenes playing out, for once it was them who had the advantage of numbers. After overcoming the shock and horror it was actually quite simple to kill the half a dozen demons. They still lost three brothers though, cutting their already diminished company down to a mere eight soldiers including him.
“We need to make it to Willstona before dawn, they need to be warned about this.” huffed out Sébastien, knees shaking but heart still strong. They were just a new recruit but they were truly devoted to Francia, even after everything that happened they still thought of the civilians, it was truly inspiring.
“There's eight of us left, much as I hate to say it I think we need to split up to have the best chance of reaching Maltox.” Théodore found himself saying.
“There's strength in numbers, though.” an anxious voice spoke out from behind him.
Turning around to see who it was, he saw the sorry state of Alexandre. The man’s once pristine uniform had so many rips and tears in it that it was more rags than military outfit.
“We don’t have time for this, they could have broken through that barricade by, everyone make sure you grab a canteen of water, our check the exit to see if there's any out there, Alexandre you come with me.” Sébastien spoke in a strict tone, just like the one their deceased officer had used, despite the fact he was outranked by quite literally everyone here.
Nobody minded though and in an instant, everyone including him was digging through destroyed crates, grabbing anything of note. Théodore got lucky and found a canteen of water and a slightly stomped on hunk of overly salted jerky. Carefully slipping it into his breast pocket and buttoning it. The jerky just barely fit in there after a lot of pushing and the button looked like it would fly off any second.
“Right lad’s ways clear let's get moving, we gotta make it there before those things do!” Sébastien’s voice echoed out.
With not a single word spoken or second wasted everyone bolted for the exit tunnel, keenly aware of the horrors that would soon be rushing into the sanctuary.
It was a far simpler tunnel than the previous one, with no twists or turns, just a straight path that lead to a ladder connected to a hatch placed just on the outskirts of the forest.
Reaching the hatch was truly an indescribable relief, clambering up the ladder as nimble as a monkey Théodore finally got their first breath of air that wasn't polluted by the thick scent of blood. It was still polluted by noise though as the survivors got to work discussing who would go with who.
Théodore wasn't listening though he was too busy looking around, there wasn't a single trace of the demons near the hatch. The grass was perfectly straight and even, standing tall and healthy. The few flowers were the same and not a single one of the few small bushes around them had their leaves disturbed.
It didn't make sense, the only other way into the sanctuary was through him and his comrades though. Actually none of it made sense, why was the oak door broken? And not just broken open but utterly shattered. Most importantly it was shattered outwards, busted open by something inside the sanctuary.
Come to think of it didn't the inside of the sanctuary show signs of damage too, the broken crates and countless splinters, it was like someone had set off a blunderbuss or cannon filled with grapeshot in there.
“Théodore.” Snapped Sébastien snapped. “Huh, sorry?” He replied looking over at their new leader, rather than looking angry though Sébastien just looked incredibly concerned, reaching out with his meaty hand and grabbing him by the check.“Uh.”
“Stay still.” Sébastien said cutting him off before he could even question him. “Hmm.” They murmured, gazing deep into his eyes, like how a lover might, this was no display of affection though, only concern and dismay. “I think you've got a head injury, your eyes are pretty unfocused. Your be my teammate, we’re head to Willstona together.” Then looking over at the others he barks out a quick order to. “get moving.” So naturally it's almost like he was a trained officer.
Then taking his hand off Théodore’s check he slaps him on the shoulder. “Lets get moving, sooner we get there the sooner you can get a check up.”
Nodding his head seems to satisfy him and Sébastien turns around and starts to jog off into the woods alongside the others.
Théodore pauses for a brief few seconds giving the surroundings a final look over before he too starts jogging off into the forest, hot on Sébastien’s heels
They jogged like they were professional athletes competing in a grand contest, leaping over fallen branches and over small bushes. His mind wasn't on their escape though, it was on the sanctuary. Puzzling over what had happened there. It was getting harder and harder to puzzle over it though, like he was drunk.
He didn't even notice when their number went from eight too six, he did notice when Alexandre and his teammate split off to go down a different path but then it was back to his musings.
After a short while he had stopped dwelling on the sanctuary issue and was instead fondly thinking about the clinic, he missed his uncle dearly, so dearly that he had enlisted in order to help quell the bandit issue of Oppium.
Why did people be bandits he didn't understand it, they lived in the greatest empire in the world ruled by a benevolent and gracious leader, Napoleon had wiped out the corrupt nobles and brought peace, they actually had places for the homeless to rest now. Why turn to banditry.
They even had lovely food like the Cart Bakery, franches? Franchise, such good food. When they got back into towns that's the first thing he was going too.
Suddenly a thud sounded out in front of him, causing him to jerk his eyes up and see Sébastien tackled to the ground by someone wearing a red coat. They looked clean shaven, though he was just guessing after all it was quite dark.
“Théodore help me!” Sébastien growled out, roughly wrestling with the aggressive man.
Why didn't they yell though, he certainly would yell if someone tackled him for no reason. Slowly moving forward he tried to get his arms under the crazed person armpits to no avail.
“What the hell are you doing, stab him, the head.” Sébastien urged through gritted teeth. Then like honey, his memories slowly flowed back to him. Opening his eyes wide in shock he stumbled back and fell onto the hard branch of a tree, hurting his collarbone. Panic fueled him though and in an instant he was back on his feet, bayonet clenched tightly between his fists.
In a daze he catapulted himself onto the aberration, amateurishly stabbing it in the back of the neck, head and shoulders, from the looks of things he seemed more like a vengeful barbarian than a professionally trained soldier of one of the continent's two super powers.
Huffing and puffing he pulled the still corpse off of Sébastien, and unsteadily got up to his feet, stretching out his hand for Sébastien to grasp.
Sébastien reached up his bloody hand in response but instead of grasping Théodore’s he instead beckoned him closer. Obediently Théodore leaned down to the fallen man, after a few short seconds he choose to kneel beside his side instead to make it comfortable on his aching feet and knees.
“Théodore, look over there, to your right.” Looking over his right he couldn't quite tell what it was Sébastien wanted, the moonlight was strong but it was only a halfmoon so he couldn't make anything out. Did Sébastien want some leaves?
Wasn't there a game you could play with leaves, something to do with throwing them maybe? “Focus Théodore, please, Willstona is over there, just go up the hill and go down it and your get to its gates. Fuck. Go. deliver our warning.”
“Yeash, Sébasstion.” He slurred out in response, Holy Seer he was tired, still, he had to honour his friend's request. So with his joints crying out in protest, he got up and with a final glance at his friends red painted uniform, he left.
Along the journey, he wondered how he could get a red uniform. It wasn’t the standard uniform that was white trousers and a blue coat. Hang on wasn't Sébasstion a grenadier, maybe that was why he had a different uniform.
Wait, that red wasn't a part of the standard uniform either, it, it was blood. He had to get Sébasstion medical attention from, Maltox, wait no the town was Willstona
What was Maltox? He thought, maybe a pesticide. Must be, farmers talk about it a lot.
Why were his thoughts so muddy, how long had they jogged for? Why was he alone now, these questions surged through his head every few minutes and would be slowly answered by painful memories, and then the cycle would repeat
Finally though, in a brief moment of clarity, he had reached it, just over this hill laid his salvation and his duty. Stumbling up the green grass and knee high reeds Théodore felt a tear trickle down his face, washing off a bit of the dried blood with its passing.
Then finally he got to the top of the hill, a grin spreading infectiously across his face, a grin which quickly faded away as he saw the once beautiful town burning.
He might not be the most perceptive solider in the army but there was no mistaking the fire coating the houses like a lick of paint. Slowly inching his way forwards in disbelief he hears a sharp crack. Glancing back he spotted, Sébastien?
Sébastien… WAS ALIVE!
He was covered in blood and looked quite hurt, but he was walking slowly towards him, Théodore couldn't recall the last time he was so overjoyed as he ran down the hill he had so laboriously walked up to greet his recovered companion.
He was alive, that's the important thing that's why he had to get to the town, he needed a medic but now there was no need for one, his best friend was alive.
They had been together since basic training after all, Sébastien had even been hired by his uncle and worked alongside him treating Willstona, that insidious plaque.
Arms outstretched to give them a hug Sébastien also responded in kind. With a smile on his face they embraced, then a sharp pang of pain tore through his throat.
Blinking his eyes, once, twice, he looked down at Sébastien gnawing on his carotid artery and a clump of flesh, as pressured jets of blood spurted out from his neck and into the air like how a dolphin might blow from its blowhole. why would he do that? Vision blacking and with everything swaying side to side, Théodore collapses to the ground, Sébastien no longer interested in holding him up.