Fear. The cold eerie tingle of fear. It was seeping into her being. Clinging to her like the damp, heavy air. Her feet flattened the olive green moss that was scattered about the graveyard. Her breathing was heavy and deep, so that the earthy scent filled her lungs. She was scared.
The woman's name was Avoa, she was one of a select few that had been chosen to defend the village. Every night, warriors were ordered to the maze of ruins that stood on a hill above the village. No one knew what happened there, but no one ever returned the following morning of their mission. The village's population was rapidly decreasing, but only because they chose to sacrifice a few, instead of suffering the massacre of their home.
She was chosen that morning to fight off the abominations. She wandered about, running into a fellow villager here and there, but they were declined the pleasure of fighting in parties. They were ordered to remain alone throughout the night because they would be found and killed with ease if they stuck together. So, here the young elementalist was, alone, afraid. Her pulse was racing, and the golden sun had only just dipped under the horizon.
The stars were beginning to form in the darkening sky, and the first screams signaled that the fight for survival was on. A cold sweat began forming on Avoa's brow as she shook, standing in one place. Then, she heard panting and screaming. She turned to see a boy, barely a man, flying from the opposite side of the hall. He ran towards her, a wild look of fear in his eyes, and not long after, his pursuer appeared. A tall, beautiful woman was running around the corner. She looked like a Norn dressed in an elaborate robe. Her arm swing up and bent in an unholy angle. A few meters ahead of the fleeing man, a stake shot out of the ground. It exploded, the splinters and dark magic forming a gruesome entity that hung like a scarecrow. Not a second later the ghost appeared over the stake, appearing to be impaled. She leaped at her prey with lightening speed, and pinned him to the ground. She unsheathed her axe and cutlass and began butchering the boy. She focused on vital strikes, severing his major arteries and organs. Blood spurt from his mutilated corpse, passing through the ghostly woman and splattering the mossy walls. The blood spilled from his wounds, filling the cracks and crevices of the stone ground.
Avoa shook violently, she hadn't moved an inch. She stared with tears pouring down her face as the undead figure stood and turned in her direction. Avoa fell to her knees and vomited upon the ground. She felt like the thick air was suffocating her as she stared blankly. She could hear the footsteps of the ghastly murderer as she approached. When she looked up, the woman was standing in front of her, and Avoa closed her eyes. She felt the air become heavier and colder.
The elementalist snapped her eyes open and kicked backwards, wildly grasping for her torch and striking it with her knife. She flung the weapon at the ghost and struggled to stand. Her shaking legs failed her many times until she could finally stand and run. The unholy shrieks and wails of the banshee echoed over the ruins. The fire engulfing her. Knowing they weren't immune gave Avoa some courage. She hurtled herself down several paths and around many corners to put as much distance between the creature and her. Rain was now pattering upon the scene, and in many places Avoa saw what remained of the other warriors being drained of blood. Her breath was loud and her legs screaming in pain. She tripped, falling amongst the tombstones. As she lay there, she heard the cries of other humans. They ran into the opening, three of them. All were winded and panting. The three looked wrecked, and were shaking visibly from the distance they were at. One had pointed, and upon pulling herself up to see above the gravestone, Avoa saw a table. The trio walked over to it and examined the food that was laid out. Too exhausted to cry out, Avoa watched as the famished group each took a bite of the food. It took mere seconds for them to fall to the ground, vomiting. Apparitions appeared shortly after, slaughtered them as they lay defenseless.
Avoa crawled to a small building. She slumped inside, laying back on the wall. Her eyes begged to be closed, but her fear refused to do so. Tears ran down her mud streaked face and onto her brown villager clothing. The short red-black hair that framed her face had lost its color to the paranormal experience. She shivered there and watched as one by one, the villagers that were sent to "defend" their home were murdered. Until a familiar face made an appearance. The boy that had been mauled by the ghost was standing in the entrance. His body was transparent. Unholy power emanated from him, rising off of his fine garments. His face had a bored expression about it, and he didn't move. Avoa accepted death and closed her eyes. She didn't have the energy to fight back like last time.
A voice in her head then ordered "The Mad King commands you to rise", but she ignored it. After a small while, an excruciating pain contorted her body. Her limbs spasmed and her muscles contracted so that she was forced into a fetal position. She screamed out in agony for what seemed like hours, and with every passing second the hold was tightened. She felt like her spine was ready to snap, and then the dark grasp was released, and she was allowed to relax and gasp for breath.
"The Made King commands you to RISE". This time she listened, and struggled to stand. The apparition stared at her for a moment longer, and then jumped at her.
Avoa looked up at the sky. The beautiful stars twinkled and shone brightly tonight, and she smiled. She walked down the path and breathed in the sweet scent of rain. She held out her hand and watched the water droplets fall. Tonight was going to be good, she could feel it. Her feet were silent on the muddy ground as she padded along. Her mind was on only one thing; the boy. She had seen him earlier, he was new. He looked sweet and innocent, and she wanted to find him so badly. Avoa felt the excitement full her being with glee as she neared him. He was standing in a small building, trying to summon fire imps. She chuckled at the thought. As she neared him, he turned and rose a torch into the air. She assumed that it was just bright enough for him to see her. She smiled as his face contorted in horror. He threw the torch, but she was already just a step behind his fleeing feet.
"The Mad King commands you to COWER" she projected into his mind. He ran into a dead end and spun on his heel. He fell to his knees and shook, begging for mercy. Avoa's smile disappeared from her face as he cowered. He looked up and slowly stood, then throwing a handful of black slime at her. She dodged out if the way and chased after him again. He turned a corner to run into a scarecrow, knocking it over. He rolled over and pushed it off, but he could not stand. The ghostly woman straddled him, holding him down. She was smiling again as she brought her sword and axe down on the boy's face. Splintering his bones and mincing his flesh.