OOC: Another chapter is ready! Sorry I made you wait, hope it was not too long ^_^ Thank you all for your encouragement so far, I will do my best to keep you invested in the story. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts so far. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 9 – The Noose Tightens
Stones scraping against the shell.
The scent of burned shell and cloth.
The sounds of a silent struggle as Dirtmouth's defender was being dragged off, the village left defenseless against the shadows. The Knight writhed, kicking and digging its feet into the ground, leaving long, jagged lines of turned dirt in its wake. Screams in the distance made the bug twist its neck, looking to the other side of the village, as some of the shadows were already prying bugs out of their homes. He could see their dark tendrils pull two brothers out of their humble abode. They were weaver ants, who wanted to establish a clothing shop in Dirtmouth. The tentacles pulled out one of them, and the other tried to pull his brother back, until both were overpowered.
"AAAAAARHHHHHH! N-NOOO! STOP! I… NGLHHHH…"
The shadows took their eyes first, stabbing right through them and into the skull, with sharp tendrils. The third vine shoved right into the mouth to silence the scream. It is as though the intention of the shadowy demons was to insert themselves into the bodies of those they murdered. Dark tears flowed out of their broken eyes, their bodies twitching and contorting in unnatural ways, before falling silent and still. Such death terrified the Knight. In a desperate attempt, it broke it arm out of the vine, and grabbed unto the leg of the iron bench. It shuddered and creaked, but held. No… not like this… no honor in it… No… purpose…
The creature could almost hear the buzzing sound of the saws again. They were cold, emotionless, merciless, not caring who or what would perish from its blades. These creatures… Same. They fought with mindless abandon. The grip was getting weaker. It was slipping. The pain from touching those vines wrapping around the lower part of its body was getting unbearable. The Knight closed its eyes, and prepared to let go. Let the saws claim their price.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The sound sounded so real. The bug could almost taste the scent of shells being sliced open upon its teeth. Its own shell. But… there was no pain. The bindings suddenly felt weaker. Bewildered, the Knight opened its eyes. The tendrils dragging it across the yard like a puppet were gone. But there was something else.
SHHHHSHHHSHHHSHHH!
The sounds of a single triangular blade spinning. The tendrils lashed out at him in vain. None reached even close. All cut down in the never-ending spin. It was a strangely-horrifying sight, both with how efficient the warrior dealt with the monsters… and how the monsters seemed to not care. No mouths to cry in pain, no mind to feel fear, and no will to protest. They fought and died, and they never cared. Finally, the spin stopped and the Knight recognized the warrior behind the wide, triangular blade.
The Nail Sage.
"What are you waiting for? Grab your nail and go!"
The harsh words to his silent look of gratitude brought the knight back to reality. The fight was still on. Screams and sounds of shattered glass as more homes were pried open, more inhabitants dragged out and … consumed. Lifeless husks collapsing on the streets. With a silent groan, it stood up, trudging towards the sword lying in the dirt, and picking it up. The fingers tightened around the hilt to the point the wood was beginning to crack. It was then, when the Knight heard a familiar voice.
"N-no! No no, let me go, you! Back! Back I say!"
The Elderbug's hut was pried open, the door torn out. The tendrils of the shadowy creatures outside were pulling on the big old bug, trying to force him out. He was not very strong, but big and heavy enough to pose a challenge. And clawing unto every piece of furniture there was! Unlike the poor ant tailors. The Knight's staggering walk slowly became an awkward run. Kicking up the dust as it approached the group of ghouls with its sword raised high up.
No.
The first vertical slash severed the spiky tendrils they used to pull.
Not again.
The second slash bisected the lot of them. The Knight swung clumsily, but frenetically, delivering a dozen strikes in a matter of seconds. The shadows dissipated into darkness, and yet it kept hammering at the place where they stood, for several more moments. With a sharp chink, the edge went into the dirt where they stood, and the Knight fell on top, using it for support, briefly out of breath. Looking to the side, it noticed the Elderbug, standing up from the floor, panting profusely. Its hands and legs trembled, and it could barely stand. Grabbing unto a walking stick, and trying to hobble outside. The Knight pulled its sword from the ground, and approached, offering an armless shoulder for support.
"T-thank you… Ser Knight…"
The flow of darkness from the accursed well never ceased to stop. The first wave was gone, leaving behind bodies of murdered bugs. The second one was coming. These creatures looked different, somehow. The Knight saw them. They were bigger… Their hands clutched unto what looked like shadowy blades. They had many arms… And many eyes. All unblinking, with a pale, ghastly white light inside. As the warrior helped Elderbug find the way to one of the huts in the center of the village, a movement was caught with a corner of its eye. The dead bodies of bugs littering the trail through the village. They started … moving. Kneeling up, standing up. Turning their heads towards those that still lived. Their eyes dripping black goo, down their cheeks, unto their chins. They tumbled, fell, stood up, and moved. For a moment, the Knight felt its breath catching still in its chest.
A step back, then another.
"Fall back!"
The yelp from the distance brought the tall bug out of yet another stupor. The Nail Sage was running towards it, as the second wave of creatures was forming to descend, from all sides. Those in the village still alive hobbled together inside the last three houses in the center. Cries were heard from the inside. Women, men, children… They were all scared. The Nail Sage frowned, looking over his shoulder with a bit of worry and pity, before eyeing the approaching creatures. Briefly nodding towards the husks of the ant brothers. They did not deserve this. They wanted a peaceful life.
"What a bad way to go…"
The Knight looked at them too. Then looked back over its shoulder. Whole body hurt so much… It took one's sheer strength of will to stand straight up. But… it was alright. Pain was something the creature was trained to endure… Made to endure. Without a scream, a tear, or a complaint. Angry at earlier display of one's own cowardice, the bug drew a line in the sand, with the tip of its nail. The Nail Sage smirked.
"Don't worry. So long either of us can swing our nails, they shall not pass..."
As the darkness encroached on Dirtmouth, a singular figure appeared atop the collapsed road of the King's Pass. Sharp eyes noticing the two hopeless defenders standing in the light of the only Lumafly not yet snuffed out. Swords pointed outwards as the mass of writhing eyes, limbs, and tentacles advanced. Upturning stones, withering grass, and pulling the shards of rock, wood and glass from broken windows, making them rattle against the ground, as they approached. The scraping and screeching of stone against glass was heard even from the distance.
"They do not stand a chance…"
It did not take a genius to calculate the odds.