Editing this story fully. Shortening chapters by whatever means possible and adding more based on those cut. I said I would it eventually...didn't I?
Reload.
The thought pounds the inner-sanctums of my mind.
Reload.
Yes, that is exactly what I need to do…
You planning on actually doing it? He really should…before…it…well…
Shut it, both of you. I already have enough going on in my head without you two…
Reload.
Air slithers across my parched lips. Dry eyes shift in focused sockets. Without breaking sight with the shrouded corners of this is darkened room, I reach for the bolt upon my rifle's side.
Frosty chills snap at my finger-tips, alerting me to the lifeless metal. Fingers dance delicately across the edges, tasting the design with their unseen tongues. What they yearn for sleek. What they desire dense, yet mobile. And after a few...seconds...
There it is. The bolt.
Gripping the small weight, I give it a gentle tug. Slowly, calmly, carefully, I reach to my side, slip the same hand down my wrinkled clothing, and find the flap of a small leathery pouch. Flipping it upwards gently, my hand caresses its inner-confines for what I so desire. A bullet.
With chilled ease, my hand slips from the sack, and I slide the small round into the chamber – its gentle thud a bellowing roar upon these silent walls. A sweaty palm presses against the bolt, shoving the cylinder back into a prepped position.
Time passes upon the trail of a snail. Ever-searching eyes dilate, yearning for little light this room has to afford. If it were not for the miniscule cracks upon these aged planks, I would be blind.
Suddenly, a heavy thud ripples from the far wall. Wood howls, bending and bulging to the monster's weight. Disturbed dust bursts from the impact spot, fleeing from the horrors that stir their activity.
THUD
The beast is shifting; every pounding pulsation an ode to its moving feet.
THUD
Large pockets of packed dust radiate from the bowing beams overhead. He has made it to the roof. Slivers of tarnished, decaying wood rain down to floor. Sweat clings to my thick, brown hair and mats it to my face.
THUD
It is on the center of the roof. This is the moment. Carefully, cautiously, I lift my rifle. My eyes stay locked, the target where I want it. As I stare, the tube comes into sight - my deliverer of destruction. My eyes align with small metal sight that shall be my guide.
Take a breath. Hold it. Steady. Ready. Fire!
TITHBURRRSSSH
Violent, ruby and amber flashes fill the dark room momentarily. Almost instantly, the illumination fades to darkness. Sadly, my eyes have fed too thoroughly; my retinas burnt with glinting gleams of a gunshot moments lost. It is hard to see. Ok, maybe firing a gun in this room was a bad idea.
You think? He needs to keep steady!
CRARASH, the mighty beast slams its mangled claw through the upper planks.
A grand shockwave ripples across the walls. Massive portions of roof splinter inward. The house wails in agony, while dust bleeds from the cloudy wound. His strike nowhere near, but the target not for flesh but for the fear.
And he found the bull's-eye…
Calm down.
Focus.
Reload.
I reach into my pocket, grab a hold of a small, slender metallic ball, and raise it to my chest. Bracing the gun, I quickly ram the bullet into the chamber. Fingers fidget with the bolt, anxiety present with every second I flounder. Taking a deep breath, I calm my nerves and finish the procedure.
A loud thump draws my attention upward. Dust flutters in large clouds as my opposite repositions itself. Another step taken. More dust wafts from it's once peacefully slumber. Another loud thump shakes the roof, and then…silence.
"Your aim is-s-s off, Hope Blackwood." Cracking the air, the raspy voice chills my bones. His voice echoes upon these hallowed halls, and hangs for a moment before…
CRARASH,the sounds of splintering wood fills my eardrums. His onslaught begun…
Instinctively I lunge forward. I aim for a delicate, well-execute roll, but I fall short. A belly-flop will have to suffice. Swiftly, I roll onto my back, embracing the assault that was destined for my demise.
A lanky, inter-jointed limb thrashes about; three, razor-like claws snapping at only air.
CRARASH, for a second time comes a thunderous roar matching that of bursting cannons...
Recoiling into a glorious fetal position, I shield my face from the raining wood. Slivers bounce across my form. Gentle clanking sounds radiate inches away. Winds whip as they are stirred into frenzy. I mustn't look, but…
Reluctantly, I peel my fingers from my face and peer upward.
A drum rattles beneath my ribcage. Muscles tense. Adrenaline pumps through pressurized veins. Above me flails a second limb. A trio of glistening claws pinch a short, few centimeters away. From this distance, one can almost feast upon the chilled, misshapen mitt. From this distance, one can almost savor each long, thick hair that protrudes from the sides of the arm. From this distance, once can almost taste…its hate…
"Where oh where are you, my little s-s-snack?" Vile words vibrate within these weary walls, "Wherever can you be?"
The claw ceases its hunt. It hangs limply as if demoralized by its failure. Alas, as I think its activity naught, it shoots as a rocket back into its hole. Light fills the room, if only for a fleeting second…
Appearing in the gaping wound is a black gem; dull light reflecting off its sinisterly splendid, sleek surface. A second orb shifts into sight, inches below the first. Both are smooth as obsidian rocks, yet spew the aura of death. They are….its eyes…
"Little mors-s-sel, how long do you think you could hide?" His eyes pierce my soul. His deep voice vomits grotesque syllables. "The mas-s-ster has-s-s watched you! Chas-s-sed you!"
Two more orbs slip in and out of sight – a total of four to have been embraced.
"And today, he clos-s-ses-s-s in! You cannot deny the mas-s-ster, Hope! You cannot deny the Lich King!"
Ravenous pulsations rain as his laughter. Each chuckle more horrific then the next. As he emits his diabolic cackles, his eyes vanish, allowing the light to return. And with it comes a thousand tiny taps. A thousand needles scratching against dried, rotted wood.
Meek pricks of sound shatter my eardrums. Unexpectedly, one of the holes is clotted by some unsightly scar. My curiosity strikes at all wise instincts. Foolishly, I pull myself upright and glance at the now blackened chasm.
Stuck midway in the roof is a small, black disk-like object that wiggles wildly. Tiny, spiky extensions gnaw the wood around the wound. Dropping from it, a small drip of sickening ooze falls to the floor. Again another drip drops.
Marvelous…I hate bugs…
My optics drift to the tiny jerking figure. Dozens of coin-sized eyes rest upon a small, flat head. Plates of finely crafted carapace shift against the rough wood. Man, do I hate…
The other hole suddenly fades. Once more, a nasty, disgusting bug wedges itself into the break. Sadly, as it wriggles the final light vanishes. Utter darkness now...
You picked the room. He liked it yesterday.
This is not the time for this…
A loud cracking sound draws my mind back to the ceiling. The grotesque creatures wriggle in their spots. Both writhe wildly, their own personal displeasure as grand as mine. Mandibles click Morse-code – the pulses a screech of anguish. They seem to twist and bend as if compelled, or if forced…
They flinch twist in circles. Their once hearty exoskeleton withers and breaks. Green ooze seeps from the splintered form, plummeting to the planks below. To my dismay, the insect snaps in two. One half smacks the floor seconds prior to the second portion. It is wholly dislodged, but no light returns. A knot twists within, the perpetual gloom foreshadowing an impending doom…
And to add to said ominous despair, pricking needles poke at my legs, telling me to stand to alleviate the numbness.
You really need to stay seated. He needs to sit down!
I come to my feet, keeping my arms to the sides as if I am upon a high-wire. Eyes focused upon the hole. Nerves tensed. Maybe, it is nothing...
Suddenly, a flood of smaller insects course into the room. Dozens of tiny legs skitter across the top of the roof. The once calm wound's weeps like an artery bursting with insecticidal blood!
I shift to the wall opposite of the flood and watch in horror.
You need to stop thinking to yourself so much. He really needs to move.
Bugs…
You need to shut your head! He needs to escape!
Ok.
Listen to them.
Relax.
My vision diverts from the disgusting distraction and aims for the door. Dozens of bugs flutter across the closed blocker. Ok, try something else. Desperate orbs roll across the room as they look for an escape
Nothing. They scan the room, but only see the incoming of miniature monsters.
Wait…there! The boarded window. It appears frail enough. Yeah…
Taking a deep breath, I allow a fleeting moment to pass. I use the time to conjure both choices to said situation: stay and fight or…flee. It takes a fraction of a second to make a proper decision…
I lower my shoulder and aim myself towards the wall. Full speed is exerted into my legs. Focus aligned upon the misaligned boards. Tilting my head to the side, I hide my face from the impact.
THUD, a rumbling racket stirs my pain threshold, but the continued movement relieves the soul – the wall broken as hoped…
Panging agony prods all parts of my body. But that is naught, naught to the glorious gusts that cuddle my body, naught to the flowing whispers of the wind that whips across my flesh. The wind that alleviates my soul, caressing it with the sweet serenity of nothingness…
Floating, everything feels weightless. For a brief, peaceful second everything feels…weightless.
THUD
The ground instantly returns. Oh, the sweet density that I had missed. Back muscles bulge as pain pricks their sanity. Rolling onto my belly, I ignore the anguish and use my arms to lift me. Coming to my feet, I twist back around and frown.
The clambering of massive legs and the slapping of tiny limbs draw me back. Two stories up, the little bugs fill the room. Above it, on the roof, is the current antagonist to my dilemma. On the roof is the assailant. On the roof…a nerubian fiend…
Purple plates of carapace run from the upper portions of its body down its back. Black fades to purple as my eyes sweep towards the underbelly of the beast. Spines spiral sinisterly towards the skies while thick hairs dangle in the air. Limbs shake in anticipation. Green drool slithers from its gaping mouth, and curls around clicking mandibles.
And eight, perfectly focused orbs land squarely upon me…
"Blackwood, so elus-s-sive!" He shuffles sideways, ripping an avalanche of tattered shingles as he moves, "I was-s-s certain my young'ns were going to feas-s-st upon your fles-s-sh."
My feet drag through the dead grass as I come upright. I peer up at the spider and then crack my back.
"Sorry to disappoint, Spider, but…" a thought wanders through my head, "Your filthy young wouldn't have enjoyed my southerner style. Darrowshire human is a completely different taste than the Stratholme brand, you know"
His teeth crack loudly teeth, his anger evident, "Fool! Dare not mock the might of the S-s-courge!" Wood sprinkles to the equally as brown grass below as he shuffles the other direction. "It is-s-s your reas-s-son for living! And it s-s-shall be the reas-s-son and purpos-s-se for your death!"
His body arches, the hairs quiver. His limbs lock as praying – for what can only be ill boding for me. His entirety directs, stills, and prepares for an onslaught…
"And death will be all you ever know!"
Twisted black limbs mangle the remainder of the roof. Fierce force aids the monster's leaping attack. Thudding upon the soil, his many legs dig up a trail behind him, yet send no weighted shockwaves.
Reacting fast, I reach down and grab my shovel. Quickly I grip the side of my gun with my free arm.
He closes in. His mangled claws whip through the air. Grass digs up between the gnarled toes that are far too familiar. Thick, heavy hair drifts to the shaking wobble of its body.
He nears in seconds. Cold air escapes from his lungs. Bitter jaws snap with intimidating ferocity. His arms lurch back. Elbows of exoskeleton design lock rearwards. In a flash they fly forward.
The blade of my shovel lifts in time. CLANK.Sparks spurt from the collision. Instantly the second spiny limb hurls at me. CLANK. Throwing my gun like a shield, its metal body absorbs the blow.
His strength is insane. My feet skid through the dirt, barely able to keep stable upon the ground.
The monstrous bug's fangs shake in delight at the meal that rests before it. His head shifts forward, the teeth still clattering. Closer, his eyes reflect my face perfectly. His eyes hunger. His eyes scream yearning...
"Hope, death has-s-s been s-s-searching for you," Slime drips from his mouth, "Bas-s-sk in its greatnes-s-s, it has-s found you!"
Again, he cracks his teeth together. Closer, I can feel the chill of his broken lungs. Closer, my arms feel weak. Closer, I slide my hand down the cannon, attempting to better grip the weapon. Closer, his fangs are now greatly detailed. Closer, his breath stinks of rotting corpses. Closer…
Eyes filled with hate. A bony body boils from unyielding rage. Teeth balance the teetering sway of life and death. Claws pushing for the kill…
Death truly has found me this day.