Bela stood beside Ethan as he aimed his weapon at the door. The sounds of the unknown voice had gone away, but that did not ease their concerns regarding the presence of a threat. No one in their right mind would have carried on like that, especially in times like these. Whether they were infected or not did not matter. It felt like a fight was looming and blood would be shed.
The blonde eyed the man as he cautiously reached for the door knob. Her hand extended to stop him but halted just before they could touch. She was apprehensive, if not nervous about the way she came off. "Hey," Bela whispered. "I'll be right behind you, okay?"
He turned his head, breaking a confident smile that cemented itself in her mind. "Thanks, Bela."
Yeah, you're welcome…
There were no more words spoken between them as he turned the knob, opening the door as quietly as he could. Kyia had opted to remain behind in one of the rooms that the two had cleared. It was a contention point for Bela, as she viewed the woman's cowardice as detrimental to their progress. If she wasn't willing to fight to stay alive, then what was the point of fighting for her, she thought.
It was Ethan's will to do so that kept the blonde in agreement. They were against an entire city led by an insane dust witch with no humanity. Losing allies was not in their best interest right now.
As soon as there was enough space to push through, Ethan made his way past the door. Bela followed suit, doing her best to avoid any unnecessary creaks from the metallic passageway. Out they stepped into a dark room; the darkest that they had ever seen. There was not a fragment of light to be found, which placed the trio in a sea of shadows.
Ethan stopped as soon as he had moved in. Bela was at his side, while Kyia had stayed behind the two of them, having grown fearful of the dark. As the brunette began to question why he had ceased his advancement, he reached back to touch her arm, thus, alerting her that making sounds was not wise.
And indeed, it was. With the room as quiet as can be, they had already made an incredible amount of noise entering it. Ethan envisioned that any creature could have been lurking in the darkness, waiting for them to get closer. They had already announced their grand entrance like a marching band at a parade.
As silent as they thought they had been, it all amounted to nothing when the room was as soundless as it was now. Whoever – or whatever – was running around out there, had to have heard them. It concerned Ethan that they would be maneuvering in a room as pitch black as it was. None of them could see a damned thing. How could the current occupant?
That was when he made the executive decision to turn on his flashlight. There was nothing else to be heard besides his own breathing. If he stepped out any further, it would have signaled his path to anything that was listening. He imagined himself bumping into walls, or tripping over debris. Something could have been waiting just a few feet away, and if he lost his stance, he was as good as dead.
They needed the light.
As soon as it flipped on, Ethan's concerns were immediately validated. Just a few feet in front of them was a wall, and around it was toppled chairs and boxes. Supplies strewn about as if there had been a mass panic before everything became vacant. His gaze turned to see both sides of the wall open up into respective hallways.
Keeping the light on, he lowered his head and sighed. This was a nightmare, he thought. There were two pathways; one possibly leading toward the unidentified inhabitant. There were still no sounds to be heard, but it was likely that his light had already given away their position.
This constable facility was surely going to become problematic. There was no power. No electricity. Everything was dark and the rooms were mostly closed off. Anything could hide here. Playing by the rules was going to get them all killed. As much as he wanted to keep his light off and conserve the battery, this was not the place to do it.
It would have to stay on, for now, as they navigated these hallways.
He glanced to his right, seeing that Bela had turned her attention to him.
The blonde pinched her brow as her amber eyes narrowed in on what she found to be foolish. "What are you doing? You'll let everything in here know where we are!"
"Can you see in the dark?" He asked her.
"No."
"Neither can I. Damn it, just stay behind me, alright? We need to move past this spot. I'm not fighting in the dark, especially with this gun."
She stared at him with parted lips before she turned her eyes back to the front. Now was not the time for bickering, Bela thought. He had brought up a good point, and it seemed to be the best plan that they had.
With that said, Ethan began to move up. His gun remained pointed straight ahead, ready for anything that would leap at them. The hallway was just as narrow as the previous one they had passed, but there were no doors to the left and right as they went along. It was a bit of a relief to not have to worry about them. The fewer chances to encounter these monsters, the better.
The blonde was only a foot behind him, watching over his shoulder as she kept her sickle at her side. She envisioned that she would use it to kill what managed to avoid his gunshots. It would mean close-quarters fighting if that were to happen, but she was no stranger to planting it into someone's body.
These monsters weren't like the maids in her castle – quite far from them.
They ran at her when she swung, instead of cowering against the wall. She had been so used to things that did not fight back over the years. It was nothing but pure murder. She took her time enjoying the show, never having to swing for dear life.
The swings she threw in Serpenmoor were the most ferocious that she had ever given. Each one was meant to demolish her adversary's ability to live. Go for the throat. The cranium. Anything that would deal a quick death and allow her to keep on moving.
Fighting was something so foreign to her, but she used what she knew and adapted it to improve herself. She wasn't going to be like the maids. They stayed still and screamed for mercy. That was going to get her nowhere in this world. If any one of those women had run or thrown something at her, they would have been granted just a few more seconds of life. Hell, maybe even a minute if they were lucky.
A minute was a fortune in this place. It could grant her that lucky breath that she so desperately needed. A split-second could be the deciding factor in a fight, and she fought with everything she had back in those streets. That wasn't going to change now, but she would be lying if she told herself that she was built for the occasion.
Inside, she was so nerve-wracked that she wanted to explode. Her newfound mortality was a game-changer – but not in her favor. That was what compelled her to play her cards as smartly as possible. There were no do-overs here. No grievous wounds that would heal on their own.
The cold wasn't her enemy – but everything else was.
Strike fast and hit accurately. That was the way to win.
Ethan ventured ahead, eventually coming across a right turn that led to an open door. He stopped to check it out, deciding to shine his light into what lay beyond it. Would it alert any potential threats to their location? Yes, but the ongoing barrage of darkness was much worse. If the room was packed with creatures, at least he would have seen them before they entered. At that rate, they could shut the door and book it like hell to somewhere safer.
Thankfully, this room appeared to be unoccupied so far, from what he could see, at least.
Cautiously, as he always was, Ethan stepped forward and broke the threshold of the doorway. He immediately swung his gun to his left as he passed through. Eyes, muzzle, target. The other side of the wall was clear, and he began to sweep his sector, moving towards the next zone to clear. It was like his military training all over again. Chris had been extra hard about CQB etiquette. He drilled it into Ethan's head like a nail into a metal board.
Long-range shooting, team-level ground combat; none of that mattered to him when it came to Ethan. Close-quarters fighting was the bread and butter of bioweapon encounters. The Baker house was not an airfield. It was a dense dwelling with tight twists and turns. In the basement, where the molded hid, were numerous narrow corridors where they could ambush any unsuspecting visitor.
He had dealt with enough run-ins with those creatures to know that he had only made it out by the skin of his teeth, and a few well-placed shotgun blasts. Chris had made mention of having to contend with those monsters as he pursued that bastard, Lucas. The winding tunnels and open areas of the mental slaughterhouse that the psychopath resided in had brought forth the need for quick reactions to threats.
Maybe that was why he was so adamant about Ethan perfecting those skills. Chris did not talk much about the mission itself, and the overall silence of the Hound Wolf Squad regarding that conversation spoke of only one thing: he had lost a few good men down there.
Taking a breath as he swept through the room, Ethan tried not to think about what would happen to Bela or Kyia if he slipped up. He needed to keep his mind on track and focus, just like Chris used to tell him to do.
The illumination of the flashlight unearthed more information about where they were. This large area resembled what would have been a central booking area, of sorts. Dated with the appearance of an older age, the room held several small cells, blocked off by iron bars. The desks and chairs were all strewn about, and the floor was completely covered in papers. As he took a mental note of his surroundings, Ethan realized that the metal clanging that they had heard back there may have been the sound of someone hitting something against those jailhouse bars. That would explain the mess, as they were likely running around as they went about it.
That would also mean that this was the room that somebody was just in only a minute or two ago.
The opposite end of the room was too far back for his light to get a clear view of what was there. The right side of the room was cleared as soon as he brought his muzzle over to it. Ethan wanted to kick himself in the ass for leaving that section unguarded as they entered, but neither Bela nor Kyia had guns, and he wasn't going to expect them to be proficient in this. It was a roll of the dice and another dip into the fountain of luck that was destinated to dry up sooner or later.
With the coast clear, for now, Ethan pointed ahead toward where the shadows were. "Whoever was making those sounds has to be in here, somewhere. Stay close to me and stay vigilant."
Bela gave a nod, while her wrist circled with the sickle tight in her grasp.
Kyia's breathing was beginning to pick up. She had to have been getting scared. Ethan didn't blame her. He never wanted the brunette to have to go through any of this. Unlike Bela, she wasn't built for a fight. She did not look like she knew the first thing about violence. At the first sign of trouble, he would ask her to –
The echo of laughter stole his attention right there and then. His gun pointed forward in its direction, though there was nothing that could be seen. Everyone tensed up when they heard it. The anticipation of a looming fight had kept them all on edge. Serpenmoor was an unforgiving beast. It held a seemingly infinite number of monsters.
Just when they were done with one, another was right up the chute, ready to go.
He carefully walked ahead, his flashlight on as the room was still closed off from any ambient lighting. Ethan was certain that the occupant had to have known that they were there. The fight was already set in stone at this point. The two sides just needed to meet. Luckily, he was not alone.
Bela was right beside him, and he counted on the blonde's inherent desire for violence to place them at an advantage. As much as she frustrated him with her cold demeanor, she was a vital asset. Kyia would have to stay out of harm's way in the meanwhile. It would do no good if she had to be rescued in the middle of a battle.
That was how good people got killed, according to Chris.
Trudging through the toppled chairs and papers, Ethan swept his gun around, failing to pick up any visual of what was there. He briefly glanced down at the floor, where he noticed several fresh droplets of blood. The pattern of the bleeding seemed to come from one of the cells. His flashlight followed the trail, where he observed a tiny splash of crimson that was smeared along the corners of one of the benches.
Bela was right there beside him. She could tell how fresh the stains were. The texture still glistened under the light. No signs of darkening or cracking. It was a recent spill, and the direction of the dots pointed to the same location as the laughter.
Hmm, they must be wounded, but, from what?
From the darkness, the sound of a chair being kicked around turned the flashlight away from the blood and back over to the end of the room that was still filled with shadows. More jail cells concealed what could be there. The area looked even more chaotic than the one that they were currently standing in. Ethan peered harder as he narrowed in on the view, identifying more faint blood stains as his vision sharpened.
He turned his attention to the blonde. "If everything goes to shit, I trust that you will be there."
Her lips parted as she glanced back at him. His statement took her by surprise, for whatever reason. She turned her eyes at the location of the sound, but those amber orbs quickly found their way back to the man at her side. "Kill it."
Ethan shouldered his weapon. "I'm going to have to." He could feel his sense of combat rising in his mind. After all the fights he had been in, he no longer felt like the mild-mannered civilian he used to be. Something about pulling a trigger at a monster's face just felt so natural by now. It made him wonder what kind of man Chris Redfield used to be before he joined the B.S.A.A. He had been through the wringer again and again. There was no doubt that the bowels of hell spat him out and he came running back in for more.
This was Chris's life, and the more Ethan found himself in combat, he found it growing on him. He wanted a peaceful life. He wanted his daughter, but if he had to obliterate bioweapons on his way to finding her, then he would do it with the utmost proficiency.
With the fire inside his chest reaching his arms and legs, he felt like he would tear through this entire city if he must. He would assemble the tools needed to kill Vikcia, and when that day came, she would be powerless under his rage. Until then, her minions would have to suffice.
Unbeknownst to Ethan, Bela still had her eyes on him. She could see the drive in his forward glare. The man was back in his element, yet again. She could not ignore how much it spoke to her.
You have a killing instinct about you, Ethan. I was wrong about it when I first met you. Your weakness is your exterior, and when they come in close, you flip the switch on them. Hmm…fascinating…
She shook her head at such thoughts. Now was not the time.
Get over it, Bela. Idiot.
Ethan began to move up. He wasn't going to wait for this thing to come to him. Everything that laughed in a world like this had to be out of its mind. If it wanted to play hide and seek, then so be it. The game would be short-lived – as would it.
The light lifted the shadows away from what they covered. The jail cells quickly became visible as Ethan traversed around them. Indeed, there was more blood to be found. Tons of it. The toppled desks had done a great job of concealing the carnage that they had just stepped into. At his feet were two corpses, both smashed to pieces.
The faces of these lost souls had been pulverized into mush, likely by the force of a blunt object. Globs upon globs of sanguine covered their chests and arms; the bulk of which was found underneath their heads. The pools of blood spidered along the tiled floor, filling in the cracks as it went by. Kyia stumbled back as soon as she witnessed the gore, but Bela remained in place.
The two of them sat quietly as they waited for the next sound. The blonde's keen senses may have been stolen from her when she arrived here, but that did not mean that she wasn't sharp. Amidst the pounding of her own heart, she managed to catch the dim sound of a low groan just at the bottom of her ears. It would have been missed in a microsecond had she devoted her mind to anything else, but the attentiveness of the eldest daughter paid off in dividends as she discovered the location of the next threat.
She pointed to the right, directing Ethan to a jail cell in the corner of the room. It would have been so easy to miss, due to how well-hidden behind the wall it was. Ethan wanted to kick himself for having overlooked it as he swept the room, but the angle of the wall would have been his worst enemy. The room was smaller than the rest. It may have been a special holding cell, judging by the way it looked.
Either way, it didn't matter. This was where that person was.
Avoiding the deceased duo on the ground, Ethan moved along the circular center desk that sat in the middle of the room. Hugging the edge as he rounded about, his flashlight would not come off that cell. As his position shoved the shadows away, he could see various bloody handprints that were pressed against the walls. It soon became apparent that there was a horrendous amount of them placed there, and whoever had done it was likely covered in blood.
He and Bela were just two dozen feet away by the time they heard the nervous giggling of someone who was inside. Ethan held his position, moving just enough so that the flashlight could hopefully touch upon the blind spots that were in there. Inch by inch, the light uncovered the darkness, revealing the backside of a bloody man.
He was crouched down on the floor, staring at the wall. A string of giggles erupted from behind his bobbing head. It was the classic pose of a madman, straight out of a late-night horror movie. The maniacal way in which he sat there brought on an impending sense of dread. He was just one question, comment, or footstep away from spinning around toward them. Ethan knew the smart thing to do would be to just shoot him and get it over with.
Bela was poised, ready to swing her sickle into the edge of his throat. It was only the gun in Ethan's hands that kept her at bay. She wanted to know what the better option was, and it seemed too risky to have her go in and potentially get entangled in a melee fight. Those gunshots would likely tear right through both of them, and she did not want to die.
Not here. Not now.
Ethan sided with his penchant for common sense. He would have to shoot. Aiming the twin-barreled gun at the deranged man, he set his finger on the trigger of the shotgun barrel. The front sight post was centered on his spine. If the blast didn't kill him, he'd at least be done walking.
One pull of the trigger, and that would be all –
"The Fabled Ones commanded that I be imprisoned, the constables would say," the crazy man remarked with a chuckle as he turned his head around. Ethan's stomach flipped upside down at the sight of his face – or what remained of it. Skin and muscle had been picked away, bit by bit, leaving nothing but an exposed skull enshrouded with uneven segments of flesh. His eyes were completely gone, stuffed with maggots. The same could be said about his nose, which had also been stripped away and packed with the hordes of larvae. Surprisingly, his lips remained intact, but the torn cheeks on his face had rendered his upper lip useless. Blood seeped down the sides of his head, trailing past his neck and leeching onto his garments. The white overalls that he wore spoke of his days as a prisoner.
They were dirtied up, as if he had been without proper hygiene long before this plague arrived here. He faced Ethan and Bela's direction, but the lack of eyes rendered him blind. Still, the way his dangling lips pulled into the best smile that they could reminded the two that he was anything but harmless.
He began to rise from where he sat, revealing his bloodied fingertips that had spent days peeling away his flesh. It was obvious that he had been infected by the dust, but this individual was more adept to the change than some of the others. While he had not been rendered into a large, burly beast, capable of smashing through doors and windows, he was more feral than the others.
This place was full of clutter, but he barely made a sound except when he wanted to. This was a man suited for life in the dark, and he knew the area well. If the dead bodies were anything to go off of, those were survivors who had strayed into his territory, and they paid for it with their lives.
Bela nervously stepped back. "Ethan…"
He kept the gun in his shoulder as the man stood up; a blood-stained hammer attached to an unusually long handle gripped in his palm. There was no time to waste. Ethan pulled the trigger, thankful that his string of luck had saved him from being unarmed against a man like this.
The gun clicked. His luck had run out.
"What the fuck?!" Ethan yelled. It had to have been a misfire.
The man's teeth clattered as his jaw chopped up and down. "If I cannot see the gods, then how can they see me?" He slammed the blunt end of his hammer against the iron bars of the jail cell. Ethan's eyes fell onto the spiked end of the tool. "This is a world without gods."
Ethan raised the gun again, opting to use the rifle barrel instead. As soon as he went to fire it, the man jumped forward and swung his hammer straight at him. It happened so quickly that he barely had time to avoid it. The firearm discharged as the barrels lifted, sending the heavy projectile into the ceiling, and deafening everyone's ears with an intense boom.
Bela was too taken away by the sound of the gunshot to react in time. Ethan stumbled backward as the recoil chipped away at his already unstable posture. He tripped over his own feet, collapsing onto his side as the hammer man shuffled around.
As soon as he struck the floor – his flashlight turned off and dislodged from his coat.
Everything went away at that very moment.
Bela's heart went into overdrive as soon as the darkness took over. Her ears were ringing from the blast, but the man's deranged cackles burrowed through the high frequencies. Kyia screamed in the background, while Ethan sounded like he was trying to crawl away. She couldn't see for shit and was now in the playground of this psychotic madman.
There was so much commotion going on that it was impossible to tell who was who. Ethan's grunts could still be heard along the ground, but the smashing of furniture told the story of how he was trying to get away, only to collide with what was around him. The crazy man stayed silent as his footsteps stomped about, but the distance between him and Winters had to be just feet apart.
Her vision was completely devoid of light, which rendered her on the same playing field as the infected. She tried to tune her ears toward the struggle, but a sudden gush of wind shook her frame. It passed by her chest in an instant, and as soon as it did, she knew that she had to move.
That was when the desk next to her exploded. She had come within inches of that hammer, narrowly avoiding a traumatic injury in the process. Gasping in shock, she kicked her heels backward, checking to ensure that there would be nothing behind her as she retreated. Ethan had to have been kicking around on the floor. The chaos of things being moved around underneath her had to have been created from his feet. There was another gush of wind, this time from further away.
Another crash. "Fuck!" Ethan shouted.
Oh no! Did he hit him?
Throwing caution to the wind, Bela sprinted forward with her sickle at her side. She would not strike until she knew where this man was. She barreled ahead with her left arm extended. Her feet had to have traveled two or three yards before she stopped.
Where the hell is –
There was no gush of wind; only the pain of the hammer's handle hitting the curve of her lower spine.
Argh!
Bela fell over as soon as she was hit. It was such a close blow. She felt his knuckles against her when it happened. A foot to the right and the head of the hammer would have pulverized her vertebrae. It was the closest call that she had ever had.
She rolled over onto her side, fighting the pain with every ounce of adrenaline that her body could muster. That was when her right ear was rocked with the explosion of iron upon concrete. Specks of shattered cement pelted her cheeks, and as the hammer dragged on its way back up, she had a front-row seat to the scraping of its melody.
That was the closest call she had ever had.
I need to move! That almost hit my face!
She swiped her leg around, desperately trying to kick him. Her feet went nowhere, which left her flabbergasted as to where he could have gone. This man was like a shadow; moving around quiet as a ghost. The more she fought, the more she gave her position away. With fear moving through her heart, she swung her sickle around over her head.
Nothing.
I need to run!
She scrambled onto her feet, pushing her body up and getting set to speed off in any direction. Her blindness destroyed her orientation to where she was. She no longer knew what she would run into. It could have been the other end of the room. It could have been a wall just a few feet away. Ethan was still fighting to get up. He could have been gravely injured. She wasn't sure.
Kyia didn't make a sound. That was the smart thing to do. Bela could only wonder if she had hidden herself away, or if she was just too afraid to function. Either way, that kept her out of the hammer's path of travel.
Bela hurried off, advancing only two feet before her shin struck a chair and her body twisted over. She slid onto her side, bashing her shoulder into the edge of a fallen desk. Her ears picked up on the brief shuffle of feet to her front, and when her head turned to gaze into the darkness, another crash of iron pierced her senses. The desk jolted with the penetrating force of the hammer – which had now become wedged inside it.
It's the spike end. He just tried to hit me with that!
She swiped her sickle around, failing to land a single hit. Another swing. Another miss. The hammer rotated around before it was yanked out from the face of the desk, falling onto the floor and sliding against her chest as it was dragged across her. She could feel the cold touch of the iron as it caressed her chest. The tip of the spike was flattened, with tiny, sharp edges of the metal clawing at her skin as it went along.
The next swing would surely be the one that ended it all. He knew where she was. All he had to do was turn that hammer up in the air and bring it down upon her head. It would rupture her skull in a heartbeat. After that, she would be convulsing on the floor, suspectable to the next swings that would follow.
She kicked her foot out again. Nothing.
Where is he?!
"Bela, keep your eyes out!" Ethan yelled, right as he fired the shotgun. The blast from the barrel lit up the room in a brief flash. The fireball that expelled out the muzzle was enough to highlight her surroundings, and in that sliver of time that they were revealed, she caught a glimpse of where her attacker was – standing on the desk beside her.
It was no wonder that she could not hear him.
Keeping the image of what she had seen fresh in her mind, Bela knew where she had to go. She jetted up from the ground and sped away. From her peripherals, she noticed that the path to her left was mostly absent of obstacles. It made escaping easier as she ran for safety. Another gust of wind from the hammer cut through the air at her back, but she was far away by the time it made its move.
With her sickle in hand, she circled the perimeter of the clutter. She wanted to run faster, but the speed would knock her over. "An object in motion tends to stay in motion," said Issac Newton. Her studies of physics were not as in-depth as her fascination with anatomy, but she knew when to apply the laws when necessary.
The faster she ran, the more she would stumble if and when she collided with something.
Her feet kicked up a chair, knocking her off balance but not taking her out of the fight. She swung her sickle around softly in front of her, its sharp tip scraping or hooking into the next thing in her way. Her distance allowed her to listen in on the man. He had chosen to stay where he was, and that meant that he was waiting for her to get close again.
Ethan has to be reloading that gun soon!
An idea came to mind. Bela stopped what she was doing once she ran into another object. She bent down to pick it up, feeling to ensure that it was portable and not too heavy to handle. A small box of what may have been papers or books was found sitting upward on the ground. She set her sickle down by her foot and lifted the crate to her chest. Her ears turned back on, listening for the next indication of where that man was.
Ethan could still be heard moving away. Shuffle after shuffle. The rhythm of soft leather against weathered tiles and chipped stone. All of it was coming from the ground – and then a tiny shifting was heard from a few feet above.
That was the sound that she had been looking for.
Bela threw the box in its direction. The contents of it spilled out while it was mid-air, but there was enough weight to carry it forward as it impacted the man. He let out a prolonged growl, followed by another swing of the hammer. By her calculations, he was just ten feet away.
Another swing, then the sound of the hammer once again becoming wedged into the wood. It was now or nothing.
She scooped up the sickle from the floor and carefully dashed toward his location. It wouldn't be long till she closed the gap, but falling onto her face was not what she needed to do. Bela stumbled over some of the chairs and boxes that stood in her way. With her ears more precise than any bullet or arrow, she honed in on every bit of noise that the man and his hammer made.
She dropped her dependence on her visual senses. Open eyes were useless in the dark. She would only weaken herself if any part of her mind was left to depend on them – so she closed them.
The twisting of the hammer helped establish her path of travel. It all happened in less than a few seconds, but when she got close, Bela knew to swing her sickle across.
That was when it hooked into his body.
Got you!
The man shook wildly as he felt the touch of the blade bury itself through his skin and muscle. The blonde did not give up what she had just gained. Using all her strength, she ensured that the weapon was far enough in so that it would not tear out. With a fierce tug, she yanked the man off the table that he stood on, sending him crashing onto the ground below. It took her arms and body with him, and Bela found herself fighting against the bloody maniac.
She could feel the wet touch of the crimson that he had bathed himself in. Her hands slipped off him as soon as they tried to grab a hold of whatever they could. The sickle was her link to where he was. If he succeeded in breaking away, he could retreat somewhere else and ambush them again.
She was not about to let that happen.
She pulled herself up, using the sickle as leverage. They were both lying horizontally, and the first one to get up would have the upper hand. His hand clawed wildly in her direction, while his feet kicked like a mule. She held on for dear life, unwilling to let any form of pain break her grip.
His hand traveled down to where the sickle was, and she suddenly felt his sharp nails pressing against her gloves. He was trying to pry her fingers off, and if he got a hold of any one of them, he would break it in an instant.
Bela threw her knees forward, blocking his next set of kicks and deflecting his feet in the process. She climbed ahead, using her body weight to pin him down as best she could. He was not a large person, and while their bodies were about the same frame, his broken mind sent him into hyperdrive. It was like he had tapped into an unlimited source of energy. The kicks and swings just kept coming, and to would soon exhaust her if she had to continue fighting it.
The edge of the sickle had begun to pull against his tissues. She knew the feeling like the back of her hand. The way the massive chunks of bone blockaded its southbound path was the first clue. The way strings of organs wrapped around the bottom curve was the second. His legs were so close to the handle.
It had been lodged in his abdomen – right above the pelvis.
The sickle was not leaving his body anytime soon.
She withdrew one of her hands and reached up as high as possible. Her fingers clenched the rim of his shirt collar, and with the momentum of the fight piloting her adrenaline, she jumped forward and found her left hand on the side of his face. The familiar feeling of bone was the first thing Bela's palms knew when they landed on him.
His flayed face was oozing with maggots. The clumps of larvae trickled down across the backs of her fingers as she grabbed at him. She had to be close to his eyes, as they were hotbeds of worms. The crazed man buckled and screamed with a sinister sense of joy as she climbed on top of him.
He's…still laughing? I don't feel his hands on me. He's not fighting back as much as I thought. Why isn't he –
Her mind immediately caught wind of what was going on.
He's going for my sickle! Damn it!
She followed his arms with her hands and sure as could be, the man was in the process of wrenching the weapon out from his side. Attempting to pull his hands off of it was going to do her no favors. The maniac was stronger than he looked, and if she didn't end this fight soon, then she could likely find herself on the opposite end of her favorite blade.
Where is that hammer?!
Bela invested the precious few seconds that she had left towards locating the blunt instrument. Her hands left his body as he pursued his goal of gaining control of the sickle. It spared her the moment to not have to worry about being hit. If she could get to his weapon in time, then the fight could hopefully be won.
Her hands felt up the wooden desk that he had been standing on. All was smooth until she felt the splinters and cracks. The hammer had to have been wedged in not too far from where she was. Quick scans with her palms resulted in the brief grazing of an iron body.
That was it. That was the head of the hammer.
Using everything that she had in her, Bela jolted up and grabbed the long, wooden handle and dropped her body weight on it as she cranked it down. Within a second, the hammer broke free and crashed onto the ground. The man could be heard pausing as soon as he heard the clang of his tool.
He's sitting still…
Bela cradled the hammer's handle in both her hands as she retreated a few feet away. The head dragged along the ground as she rose to her feet, and as she did, the man's bloody hand grasped her ankle. She still couldn't see anything around her, but she envisioned that he had to be sitting forward. Was the sickle still jammed inside his gut? She couldn't be so sure.
If he had his hand on her, then there was a chance that he had freed it from his body and that it was about to come her way. The dark left everything up to chance. Instinct would be the only thing to guide her hand, but even that was as blind as she was right now. Ethan could still be heard in the background, but she could not depend on him to pull her out of this, and why would she?
This was her fight now. Her kill. She was going to finish it.
Heaving the hammer over her shoulder, Bela used the man's hold on her as a gauge to determine just how far away he was. Using the final second that she would have allotted for such calculations, she went all in on her next move. The iron block at the top of the handle came crashing down.
To her amazement – the impact was soft and palpable.
It was his head.
Got you!
Bela lifted the hammer again, feeling the fresh spray of blood droplets land on her face. She returned it to where it had just been sent, splitting the man's skull further. An audible squish bubbled out as soon as the hammer face recoiled off.
A third lift into the air. More blood to follow.
She gave him two more swings before the surface of what she was hitting began to implode. His hand went limp and fell down the side of her ankle. There was no more noise left to come from his end. No laughter. No giggles.
Only the deathly silence of a dead man.
Spinning the hammer around, she landed one, final blow further ahead – planting the spiked end of the tool into what surely must have been his back.
You're dead.
She tugged on the handle, partially dragging the body underneath it along for the ride. As soon as she felt it was safe to let go, she did. Bela took a step back, opening her lungs for some fresh air. The scent of iron filled the room. What was at her feet must have been a bloody mess. She could only imagine the damage that was done down there.
"Ethan…" She called out to him in between breaths.
"Bela!" His voice rose. "Are you okay?"
"Never better," she chuckled. With the fight over, her ears turned to listen to what he was doing. It sounded like Ethan was still in the process of getting back on his feet. After a dozen more seconds of commotion, she heard him speak again.
"Got it!"
What is he talking about?
In a flash, the light in his hands came back on. It stunned everyone's eyes, as the darkness had solidified its hold for the time being until now. Allowing the sting to settle, Bela's vision cleared up and she looked down to see what had happened.
Just as she thought, the man was dead as could be. The back of his head had been split open; a large cavity formed along the left side, by his ear. Heaps of blood drained out the edges of the open wound, spilling down the side of his head and rising across the ground. The hammer was embedded in the bottom right of his back, smeared in red.
Most frighteningly – he had freed the sickle from his side.
She was right all along.
With a sigh of humility, Bela once again had to come to terms with just how close she was to death. Her heart would not give up on reminding her that it was still beating, and she found herself needing to take a seat. As Ethan went to collect himself and ensure that he had everything they needed to continue, the blonde turned her amber eyes toward him and glanced at his body.
Guess you lucked out. Not a scratch on you, it seems…
Kyia came running toward the light, book in hand. She nearly tripped multiple times over the various objects in her path. Bela wanted to say something, but she kept her thoughts to herself. The fight had taken a lot out of her, and she did not feel like arguing.
The brunette turned her head the moment she laid her sights on the battered corpse. "Revolting."
It's what we have to do to survive, idiot.
Her eyes returned to Ethan.
It's what you and I both have to do, don't we? And we do it so well. I guess we make a pretty good team. Who would have thought?
Ethan nodded as he moved up to the deceased man, reaching down to retrieve her sickle right before he handed it back to her. "Great job," he said. "You kicked ass back there."
"Thanks." A small half-grin broke along the corner of her mouth.
"You sure that you're alright?"
"Never better, didn't I say?"
He glanced at the dead infected once more before an unsteady smile of his own came into view. "Never better is right. Don't let up now."
She hummed to herself and nodded while he turned around to collect his weapon in preparation for the next fight. Her eyes would not leave him. Something about him just continued to hold her attention.
Don't let up on me, Ethan.
NOTES:
Welcome back! Hope you all enjoyed this *literally* dark chapter!
I wanted to mix things up and have this fight go down in total darkness. Hope it was executed well, as it was tricky to avoid being repetitive. Even though the hammer man is dead, there are still plenty of others hiding in this place. Some infected are more monstrous than others, and our trio is due for another run-in with one of those variants.
Seems like Bela's feelings for Ethan are starting to grow, and she has been more willing to listen to him lately. Heck, even he is starting to form a slight bond with the bug blonde. I think the next chapter should shed some more light on where they stand – and where they are heading.
Oh, and expect more horror. That chapter will be available on the 26th.
Follow this story on Archive of Our Own to check out the artwork created for this chapter.
Also, a lot of you have expressed interest in the Leon/Ashley story that I have proposed. Well, work has officially begun on it, and so far, so good! The title is currently undecided and I'm writing it in between my work on Flies and Fears, so there isn't an official release date – yet. I am aiming for twenty chapters, so it will be released sooner or later. In the meantime, enjoy this extended plot synopsis:
"Saddler is dead. The island of nightmares is in flames. The sun shines over the glistening ocean.
In Leon's mind, the threat is over. Ashley clings to him as the jet ski propels them to salvation. After an intense night of fighting, it is time to stop and take a breath. Unfortunately, where one fight ends, another begins.
When an onslaught of blue windows opens up a tear in reality, the two survivors suddenly awake to find themselves in the middle of a dense forest. With the moisture of the ocean water still on their clothes, it becomes apparent that this isn't Valdelobos. This may not even be their world.
As soon as the questions start rolling in, they are met with a group of local people who reside in this vast wilderness. Led by a woman as beautiful as the crown of flowers on her head, these locals are equally as puzzled by the arrival of the two, but nonetheless, they wish to extend their hands and help them out. Tradition is not to be ignored.
With no other choice but to accept the help given to them, Leon and Ashley follow them back to their settlement, hoping that the answers they seek may come from these folk who are seemingly cut off from the rest of the world.
This world may appear to be tranquil, but something isn't right. There are predators lurking about in the forest. Leon and Ashley are no strangers to monsters, but sometimes, it isn't the monsters we have to worry about.
Ashley soon finds herself questioning the intent of those who claim to want to help her. As the number of strange and troubling events in this tiny settlement begins to climb, the question of whether or not they are safer there demands to be answered. This forest holds a dark secret, and the blood-red sun is a warning of what is to come. Will they find a way out of this forsaken place, or will their screams become nothing more than whistles in the long wind?
There are no viruses in this world – only nature.
And nature will eat you alive."
Expect another dive into horror with this one, but with a sprinkle of foreboding subtly that readers of Flies will be sure to recognize. Folk and fantasy horror are here to stay in this dark fairytale world, tightening their grip all the way through its unnerving ending.
Hope you all are excited!
In the meantime, there are plenty more chapters of Fears to roll out! I hope you all are doing well in your lives and that you have managed to find happiness each and every day. You're more than just readers to me, and I wish you all the best that life has to offer. Stay safe out there and I can't wait to see you all again! Thank you so much for being here! 😊