A Step too Far
Wrath
He awoke to the smell of smouldering ashes. The thick air choking his lungs and overpowering his sense of smell. He could feel the residual heat of the smouldering coals all around him, still warm enough to permeate his thick armour and caress his skin.
What happened?
Muscles, weary from use, ached in protest as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Already his body was on auto-pilot, working out kinks, popping joints and stretching his stiff limbs until they were comfortable.
Where am I?
Bright light scattered upon hitting the dirty faceplate that kept his face hidden. A tired and grimy hand wiped away the majority of the dirt, letting in dim light that burned his eyes and prompting the hand block the offending overcast sky. Soon enough, the pain subsided, allowing him to take in his surroundings.
What happened!?
Smoke lazily drifted upwards from burnt husks of buildings, their foundations now but coals and embers. The acrid stench of burnt flesh wafted about and was swept along with the occasional chilling breeze. The surrounding tundra was stained grey from the ashes that continued to fall gently like snowflakes. The great stone wall that surrounded the horizon was crumbling away in several places, numerous scorch marks marred the few stretches of wall that remained standing.
A breathless question escaped him as his hands clenched into fists. Just what kind of monster would be capable of this? Any answer his mind made scared him.
Stumbling to his feet, loose ash from his being fell from the powerful thudding of his footfalls. Each smouldering house he passed brought forth a new memory, most of them were filled with smiling faces and kind voices. Yet as each one ran through his mind, a weak voice whispered to him.
'They never cared, they only pretended to be kind out of fear.' The memories twisted into terrified expressions and blood-curdling screams. Each time, he was left with the visage of a bright flame.
His feet halted before a vaguely familiar building. The majority of the framework, as had the front door, miraculously survived with minimal damage. His large hands brushed the familiar wood and his mind was once again assaulted by memories.
"Aubrey, eat your vegetables." A stern, yet kindly voice ordered. One could easily picture the man fondly remembering this at a later time.
"I don' wan' to!" Replied a high-pitched voice, disgust riddled throughout it. "They're yucky!"
"They're delicious once you get used to them, sweetie." Chimed a melodic voice.
With all three of the voices, an image of three people sitting together at a table manifested. A young girl with fiery, red hair recoiling in disgust at her plate. A middle-aged man with tired eyes twinkling with kindness sat to her left with a happy smile. A young woman with the same shade of hair as the girl, quietly laughing as she pointed to the girl's plate with her fork.
The image was… heart-warming to the large man out in the cold. It almost felt like he was intruding. Yet it was this very family that welcomed him and gave him a place to stay when he felt lost.
His hand hovered above the door-knob, trembling with fear over what he might find. He steeled himself, clearing his mind and gently pushed the door open.
There they were, sitting in front of the fireplace like nothing was wrong. The house was brightly lit and warm air comforted him as he took slow strides towards them, his feet thumping gently across the solid wooden floors. He could feel his eyes tear up as he reached out to them, his hand landing softly on the father's shoulder.
Everything violently shifted, gone was the warming atmosphere, being replaced by a harsh chill. The walls crumbled away, leaving ash and charred wood in their wake. The flickering fire-light faded away and left dark clouds and the rumbling of distant thunder. The figures before him remained, but were replaced by three strangers.
All three had melted skin that stuck to their skeletons and wore nothing but burnt rags. He felt his blood freeze and everything in his mind ground to a halt. Once more, a memory rushed into him.
Red. That was all he saw. Black Beasts with Red dripping from their ravenous maws. Beasts numbering in their hundreds swarmed into the buildings. Terrified screams filled the air and encouraged them, spurring them on in their hunt. For every Beast that fell, two more would take its place.
He felt useless. No matter how hard he fought, the Red would not stop flowing. One more scream reached his ears and he turned to see a young woman being held down by a beast as it gorged itself on her belly, the Red staining its teeth and matting its fur together.
The woman's scream echoed in his head as she reached out to him, her eyes pleading for his help, desperately clinging to life by a thread. The thread was snapped as another beast descended upon her and obscured her from sight. Once the beasts moved on, all there was left was Red.
It was the last thing he saw before his vision was entirely taken by flame and everything turned to white.
The last thing he felt was not anger, nor was it fury.
No.
It was Wrath.
What had he done?
AN
So yeah, remember what I said back after I posted chapter 3 of A Step too Far? well, yeah, this is what was supposed to happen instead of Praetor simply leaving and getting a lame goodbye.
Pretty sharp contrast huh? This is also meant to allude to the original title, I wanted a lot to allude to the title.
Anyway, onto other news. New games have been coming out and will keep coming out for a while yet, so the next chapter of AStF may take a while.
Please tell me what you think, your opinions are very much welcome.
~Dys