Hey, so new story! After finishing Dying of the Light, I desperately wanted to pick up where Derek Landy left off and so here it is! Those of you who are familiar with me and my assassin's creed stories, sorry but I've put those aside for the moment to write this. I doubt it'll be very long but I'm not setting it in stone, who knows? Anyway, enjoy and I'll update soon :)
Jared sat up, drew the curtain, stood and winced. It had been a week since the battle of Roarhaven but his body still hadn't fully recovered. Maybe that was because his mind hadn't fully recovered either.
He had fought against her, Darquesse, the one who would destroy the world. He had seen the look of evil on her face, her soulless eyes that scarred his mind. He could read her expression and he saw the hatred. He could see her pure, unbridled power and that's what scared him the most. She wasn't just the destroyer of the world. She was the destroyer of worlds, universes, realities, all of it, she would conquer and kill.
But he had survived, when so many had not.
Stretching, he checked his knees, making sure they wouldn't break the moment he took a step. He had been lying in the Medical Ward for a week and today was his first day of trying to walk. She had broken his legs and he thought he was going to die. He remembered standing alone, grey bodies surrounding him as he raised his scythe. Maybe he shook, that he couldn't remember. He wouldn't have been surprised. Darquesse tore them apart. He watched her slice open the famous Necromancer, Solomon Wreath. He didn't even have time to put up a fight. But Jared... Jared survived.
Sometimes, he let that guilty thought cross his mind that perhaps, because of this, he was stronger than Wreath.
But he knew that wasn't true.
He remembered his scythe shattering before he could make a swing at the world killer, moments later, his knees cracked, both at the same time. He fell and whether he cried out or not didn't hold a place in his memory but what his memory strongly held onto was that young woman, dressed in a rusty red, stepping towards him. She was going to kill him with her bare hands. She was a form of pure evil, that much he could see through his visor. His heart thumped louder than ever and she was so close, she was more than close enough to raise a finger and his head would fly from his shoulders.
But the other one, the original, jumped. Jared followed Darquesse's gaze and watched her, frustrated as she spun, watching Valkyrie Cain land, her body intact. Darquesse left him and Jared allowed himself a moment to relax. He wouldn't die, not today, and then slipped back into the excruciating pain of broken bones and muscles. Then, he blacked out. Then, he woke up in the Irish Sanctuary's Medical Ward.
He had been kept under observation for a while, Synecdoche passed by with few questions, obviously more curious on his mental state than his physical state. The latter would heal over time. But being up close and personal to a world killer, well, that may take a little longer.
Jared dressed in his usual grey apparel and left the Medical Ward, heading down the corridor. His footsteps echoed about and his fingers danced, anxious, wanting to draw his scythe from his back. He was safe of course, but his mind told him something else. Every shadow, every movement made him think Darquesse was back, hunting him down to finish the job. He shivered and stopped. Making sure he definitely was alone, he pulled off his helmet and drew in long breaths to calm himself. His weak knees gave way and he fell. Lying awkwardly on the smooth, cold floor, Jared shook. He didn't want to cry, but his body told him differently.
Plagued by the thoughts of Darquesse standing over him, Jared wept, holding his face. He drew his body into the side of the corridor and tried to hide himself, as if she was in the shadows, watching. He held himself and almost wished he had died that day. If he had, she wouldn't be following him, to finish the job.
"You'll never find me... Never." The lone Cleaver whispered, but couldn't quite convince himself.
