Christopher didn’t wait for the ghoul to pounce at him.
Remembering Jules’ lesson, he quickly thrust forward, his speed now enhanced by his improved Grace stat. He quickly hit the terror twice, once on its leg and the other on its abdomen, causing the creature to fall to the floor.
It screeched with pain, using its bone spurs to drag itself towards Christopher, leaving a trail of rotting guts behind.
Christopher stomped on its head without hesitation, and it burst with a loud, squishy pop, spreading brain matter everywhere.
In just a couple of seconds, he had killed the ghoul. He couldn’t help but be satisfied with himself, but unfortunately, he couldn’t relish the feeling for too long. The clang of more bone spurs echoed from the end of the chamber.
He steadied his stance, slightly bending his knees while making sure he would not slip on the bloodied floor. He glanced at Jules. The boy remained unconscious, his face as pale as snow.
Christopher frowned. He knew there were limitations to Crimson Proof. Even if the Epistle healed the wounds of the flesh, it couldn’t replace the blood Jules had lost.
Three ghouls rushed out of the shadows, snarling and clawing at each other, desperate to reach Christopher first. Seizing the opportunity, he took advantage of their lack of coordination, darting forward with two quick steps.
He lashed out instantly, striking one, two, three, four times in quick succession. The ghouls barely had time to react. The first fell to his strikes, never to haunt the 3rd floor again, and the second fell to the ground with deep cuts on both thighs.
Damn it! Christopher cursed in his mind. He wanted to take the opportunity to finish at least another ghoul; however, the shadows were already upon Jules’ body, and with them, the creepy hands advanced, burrowing into his body.
Christopher stepped back, returning shining light upon Jules. Most of the creepy hands scattered, running away from the light as the devil ran from the cross.
He took a deep breath. He had avoided disaster but at a cost.
From the corner of his eye, he saw three small hands digging through Jules’ clothes and flesh, trying to burrow onto his back. Christopher stepped on the terrors, crushing them against Jules’ body. He managed to finish two of them before the remaining ghouls caught up.
He ducked just in time to dodge the leading ghoul’s strike–its jagged wrist bone cut through the air, directed at his waist, where he kept the light crystal.
Christopher used his spear to push the ghoul back. He intended to cause it to trip over his fallen teammate, unfortunately, without success.
Jules had taught him always to keep his distance when fighting with a spear. Now, however, he was unable to do so. With no way to carry Jules, the shadows would quickly devour his body if he moved more than one step away.
What should I do?
Christopher panted heavily, his face a mix of pain and despair. He didn’t want to leave the boy behind, but what else could he do? Staying here meant they both died; it was only logical for him to run away.
He took another step back, trying to widen the distance between him and the two terrors–however, doing so caused the shadows to once again briefly cover Jule’s face. As the creepy hands rushed for the boy’s face, the ghouls ignored him and instead rushed for Christopher, who carried the light crystal.
“You bastards!” He shouted, throwing a diagonal strike at the closest ghoul. The creature stumbled back, hissing in pain, and Christopher took the chance to thrust his spear through his chest.
He smiled for a moment, the creature growling in pain, but his expression quickly fell. Instead of dropping dead on the floor, the ghoul wrapped his long arms around the spear and yanked it out of Christopher’s hands.
He watched despairingly as the spear fell on the floor, three meters away, and rolled into the shadows. The ghouls seemed to cackle before rushing in his direction.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Christopher's eyes picked on Jules’ lone blade, lying beside his body, and he rushed to grab it. Its handle was almost unbearably warm, but Christopher didn’t have much time to think about it.
He gripped the weapon with both hands and swung the blade against the approaching ghoul. Despite his lack of technique, he easily cut into its chest. A splash of foul blood hit Christopher’s face as he nearly split the terror’s body in half.
A terrifying growl echoed through the tunnel, and Christopher’s heart fell.
He turned his body around just in time to see two tall, grey ghouls with gaping chest wounds and half a dozen hands prodding out rushing towards him.
A cold, sharp pain shot through his ribs, nearly causing him to lose his grip on the sword. His vision blurred, and he felt a metallic taste. Taking advantage of his moment of distraction, the other ghoul stabbed him between the ribs.
Christopher leaned forward and coughed, splattering crimson blood across the ground. He instinctively touched his side, feeling the warm blood sipping through his wound.
An animalistic growl tore from his lungs as he spun in place, his blade cutting through the air before decapitating the ghoul’s arm. Fueled by despair and adrenaline, he slashed again and again, cutting through flesh and bone, mangling the creature to pieces until nothing but a pile of flesh remained.
Christopher turned around towards the upcoming ghouls, panting harshly. He touched the side of his chest and used whatever blood he had left to use Crimson Proof and slow down the bleeding.
His hands burned with pain. Jules’ mysterious blade now so hot it was melting the skin off his fingers. Instead of dropping it, he tightened his grip and glanced at Jules.
Christopher made his decision.
He realized with a bitter taste in his mouth that he was a selfish bastard. Jules had saved his life just a couple of days ago, and now, instead of paying that debt, he was going to leave the boy behind.
A different kind of pain washed over him–one different from the wounds on his body, one that caused him deep, mental anguish.
Guilt, he realized. It gnawed at him, threatening to devour him whole, yet he didn’t care, for he had to survive. He had to survive at least long enough to save Christine. And then… he would gladly atone for his sins.
Christopher's eyes darted back and forth through the chamber. He had to use everything he had if he wanted a chance of getting out alive, and that meant…
Mark! He uttered in his mind, targeting the nearby body of a creepy hand.
The crushed hand lit up with a dim blue color, and Christopher, doing his best to ignore the incoming headache, marked a random pebble four meters away.
The blue light grew brighter, momentarily revealing all the nearby five-fingered terrors lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for the light crystal to fade and strike. Two diagonal beams shot from the marks, their horizontal trajectory forming a perfect triangle.
Unfortunately, before it could hit the ghouls, the beam struck the uneven floor, sending stone debris flying everywhere.
“Shit!” Christopher cursed, rubbing his temples. There had to be a better way to do this. Not only was it difficult to find good targets to mark, but the uneven terrain made it even more complicated to accurately hit the ghouls.
His eyes froze on the writhing hands, blindly grasping at the air while sticking out of the ghoul’s chest.
He steeled his resolve and focused on the hands.
It was difficult to concentrate on the moving targets. He did it with such focus that his eyes barely blinked and soon turned watery. He marked them once, twice, and thrice, but every time, they escaped his grasp.
His head pounded with pain as the ghouls closed in on him.
Christopher raised Jules’s blade and redoubled his efforts; he had only one more chance left to try and use Triangulation Beam before the ghouls arrived, and he was forced to cut through them with the blade.
Mark, mark, he repeated in quick succession, finally targeting two of the creepy hands hanging from the ghoul's chest. They were now so close he could easily discern that one of the hands had one missing finger.
Two bright blue spots lit right on top of the ghoul, causing it to hesitate momentarily. In the next moment, a third blue stop lit up, right on the creature’s chest, and it fell back, shrieking in pain, as a bloody triangular-shaped hole appeared on its chest.
The creature writhed on the floor, wailing in agony, but it didn’t take long to stagger back onto its feet. Its movements were sluggish and unsteady as it limped after the other ghoul.
Shit! Christopher cursed in his mind. He had expected Triangulation Beam to kill one of the two ghouls. Maybe he missed a vital spot, or perhaps those ghouls were more resistant than the others.
He frowned. His body was exhausted; he had lost too much blood, and now, he had such a strong headache he could barely keep his eyes open.
Christopher’s eyes filled with determination, and he braced for impact as he glanced at Jules one last time.
“I’m sorry.”