AN: This the first story I ever came up with for this collection. Absolutely no idea why. Anyway, it's not doing any good, collecting dust in my Doc's folder, so online it goes.
Kim ignored how heavy her limbs were, the ache in her skin and the burn in her guts. She ignored the deadened feeling in her fingers and toes, the clumsiness of her tongue. The only thing that mattered was remembering to move.
She hit the wall back first, knocking out the breath she no longer needed. It was still a shock, and it left her slow when she rolled away from the follow up blow.
Her opponent roared at her in annoyance, the massive knight-hollow that had ambushed her beating a staccato rhythm with its polearm as it chased her across the ground. She scrambled to stay ahead of it, desperately outrunning its blows until she found the opportunity to clamber to her feet and spring away.
The frantic battle slowed for a brief moment, and she took a moment to rest and regain her strength while she studied her opponent; she had no doubt that it was watching her every bit as closely, though she doubted it's thoughts contained anything except hunger.
The knight-hollow was a massive creature, more than twice her height and clad in armor far too thick for her modest blade. It was also blindingly fast, swinging it's oversized halberd with insulting ease as it finally resumed combat with a sudden charge. It's every motion was heralded by a spray of dust and the stench of decay, it's armor shrieking with rust as it chased her across the cluttered arena.
She had no doubt that beneath the thick plates of steel and titanite was flesh gone rotten and withered with decay, its eyes long eaten away into spots of foxfire.
"Hrrraugh!" it moaned in a voice as hollow as it's soul, it's mighty blows shredding through the debris that littered the battlefield; long abandoned armor was scattered to every wall, while a crippled wagon vanished in a spray of splinters. Two more blindingly fast blows menaced her towards an empty corner, pinning her in place long enough for a massive, overhead blow.
She was already gone, though; the knight-hollow had finally overreached itself, and she leapt with all her strength to take advantage of its mistake. The sturdy shortsword still felt awkward in her hand, but years of cheerleading made scrambling up the behemoth's arm come as easily as breathing. It flailed wildly, trying to knock her off, but she was already airborne again, her sword licking out to kiss the joint where the helmet met the gorget. She felt the blade bite deep before she was soaring past, hitting the ground in a practiced tumble.
She leapt away a moment later, ready to resume their deadly dance, only to find that this time there was no need. The knight-hollow was still where she had left it, frozen halfway through turning to face her with weapon upraised.
She couldn't see the creature's expression, but the tilt to its helmet was sad and confused as it raised a gauntlet to its face, as though to raise its visor.
Instead, and with a glacial slowness, the massive helmet slowly tilted off of it's shoulders and fell to the ground with a ringing crash.
She waited a moment more, to see if it would raise it's weapon again, possibly while sprouting a nest of tentacles from the stump of its neck; in the end, she didn't relax until the creature's body proceeded to tip over like a fallen tree, hitting the ground with a crunch of metal, and an explosion of dust. When the air cleared again, the fallen knight was gone, and Kim felt a surge of strength rush through her heart.
It wasn't the worst part of this mess, but it was pretty close; the inescapable knowledge that she was as dead and rotten as that knight, doomed to feed on the essence, the *soul* of all that she killed in order to keep the hollowness at bay. She was getting stronger with every kill she made, and she hated every hour, every minute, every second, every single breath of it.
He came trotting up to meet her at the doorway, like he always did, his messy blonde do plastered to his head by sweat. His lanky body was almost engulfed by the massive leather apron he was wearing, though his frame was beginning to show the weeks of hard work that he was enduring. His shoulders had never been so broad, and his habitual slouch was almost gone, though nothing had managed to steal the good cheer plastered across his face.
Even the lame leg that dragged behind him with every step had failed to slow him down, and she managed to shove away the faint stirrings of guilt at the sight. He was here, she was here, and nothing else mattered.
He collided with her with his usual eagerness and lack of grace, threatening to send her toppling off of the steps. "KP, you're back!"
It took her a moment, infentesimally too long, to remember how to respond. "H-hey Ron," she said, the words heavy and clumsy on her tongue. How long had it been since she had last talked? Probably not since she had last returned to the shrine, which had been…
...too long. It had been too long, so she returned Ron's hug with all her strength, and ignored the yawning pit that opened in her heart, a hungry gullet that whimpered pitilessly at the living warmth just outside her skin, weak and unaware and ripe for the harvest-
She jerked back, horror and revulsion warring within her as she pulled away.
Ron let her go with an understanding, if sad, look in his eyes. It made for a poor match to his smile, and she hated herself for creating it, even as she felt gratitude for his accommodation. It was all tangled up inside her, and she tried to struggle through it, looking for something to say. "H-how are you?" she finally said, wincing at how her words trembled and cracked.
"Oh, I'm doing great! Sensei just got me started on titanite infusion! Did you know that there are titanite ores that contain the elemental essence of sharpness?" she let his comforting, familiar chatter wash over her as he led her into the immense and empty hall where they had made their camp, where empty thrones looked down upon her, and so many other lost and frightened souls.
It wasn't home, it would never be home, but with Ron by her side it had come damn close. She could practically smell dinner already, and could almost feel the bonfire burning against her bones.