Chapter Text
90 years, evading a tyrant.
Running away, as a desecrated knight.
90 years, in isolation. The thoughts ebb and flow.
A choked mind speaks out.
("I have missed pondering over my visage in the mirror.
Is my hair kempt? Is my gaze petrifying? Have I kept any shred of humanity from when I was a knight, or has it all become no more than fragments in time?
These lingering questions, I admit, have begun to eat me from the inside. Even though I am still here, and my mind remains unshaken, the reality is that I haven't felt alive in so long that I've lost track.
And I shan’t be, for it is an affront to death itself. A knight who strives to see their duty through to the end shall be deserving of a death befitting their legacy. I've always lived on this principle, even in these moments, when undeath has rendered me invisible before my own eyes, even… even when my sense of self vanishes… and all I hear is the rumbling and roaring from my chest as I strike, and charge and lay- lay waste and… and-...
…
I've been trying to deny it so vehemently... But it's futile. For so long, I would think of myself so highly, when my mark in history has only been fraught with indiscriminate murder.
People have many times called me an honourable and legendary torchbearer, an advocate of peace, a harbinger of order, and so many other titles, but in reality... All I am is a monster, bearing a knight’s form.
Viler than any kind of undead.
And now that my mortality has been severed, merely thinking about what I may witness myself become, what- what vile acts I may commit with all my heart… Losing myself…
It makes me shiver.
So until that day finds me... I hope I can find some solace in reminiscing.
Remembering the time I was living… Even for just a bit.”)
Elizabeth sits back, against a cave wall, and slowly closes her eyes, with Thorn in her embrace, falling into slumber with the thoughts permeating like cicadas in summer.
And blackness persisted, until the young vampire opens her eyes, to a foggy blur, a mix of grey and white, slowly morphing into...
Elizabeth: ("The... King's chamber!?")
Stunned in disbelief, she rotates in place, taking in the room unfolding. Soon, however, she discovers she’s not alone.
(“Lu…Lugunius!?”)
The king graces her, appearing younger, a look to him distant to her. Memories come flooding back fast like gusts of wind, as she waffles backwards, unable to decisively lay eyes on him.
"Y-you you, you can't be alive, I... I'd just heard news of your passing! What are you doing here, how ARE you here!?"
Lugunius: "...
Miss Bloodflame, are you feeling well? You seem to have lost your footing..."
His speech leaves her disconcerted.
(“That voice… Oh my goodness, how have I missed you… How have I missed you so…”)
A wee tear wells up in her eye, one joyous. Eager to relish the moment, she musters up her courage, and assumes, in a role left long forsaken…
A bowing stance.
Elizabeth: "My... Apologies, I-... I reckon it’s simply spoiled sleep."
Lugunius: "Oh dear... Shall I call upon a servant, request a tonic remedy?"
Elizabeth: "Your sincerity is much appreciated, Your Majesty, but there is no need. I can ascertain my well-being by the afternoon.”
Lugunius: "I see, that’s reassuring. Precisely on time for your assignment."
Elizabeth: ("Assignment?")
"Pardon me, my king, I... My memories elude me at the moment, could you remind me?"
Lugunius: "Hmm? Strange of you to ask, we addressed it mere minutes ago… The request from the head of Arnag to the south."
Shivers from her spine cause her to shudder at the sound of that name.
Lugunius continues.
“It regards suspicious activity, others getting abducted or disappearing in the night… Even forces sent to investigate have reportedly been lost.
The mention of townsfolk becoming demented and violent, however, is the prime reason I decided to send you. You are the only one here with experience in such matters.”
Before realising so, Elizabeth replies, in what sounds like a younger voice.
"Acknowledged.
However… Considering the last point, I could very likely require a medic or a scholar of medicine. One with time on the field, preferably."
("Was that my...?")
Lugunius: "It would be paramount, yes... It is safe to presume that the clinic there must be in a dire situation.
...
I… Mm.
I will notify our medics about it. Shall there be anybody available, they will be directed to you.”
Elizabeth: “Acknowledged, your Majesty.”
Raising his hand dignifiedly, he offers her a parting salutation.
“I shall expect your escort by the early afternoon hours.
You are dismissed.”
Still not having fully recuperated, the squire answers with a bow, one lumbering and hesitant. She can feel a strange nimbleness to herself, however, as she heads for the chamber’s exit. Steps feeling lighter than before, her skin… Warmer and tauter.
Upon reaching the staircase to the living quarters, she supports herself on the railing.
“... M-my… My hand…”
Her heart roars, racing with a hasted inhale at the sight. She storms up the stairs, almost tumbling in her rush.
(“No- no way… No way it’s-...!!)
Consulting her memories, she soon manages to find her room, stopping right before the entrance. Standing there with an expression almost fearful, yet anticipating, she gulps, as she opens the door.
(“H-here goes nothing…”)
Mirror to the left, bed and drawers to the right opposing it. Belongings laying sparse, mostly gifts and memorabilia from past missions.
All that comes into focus in her vision however is the mirror, as she makes a beeline for it, almost faltering, yet supporting herself from the drawer before it.
And as her reflection faithfully springs into view with her, her movements jerk up.
“Oh… Oh…”
Hair shorter, more unkempt yet still maintaining their shape. A glint in her eyes she had all but forgotten about. Rosy, vibrant skin, teeming with life. A squire’s robe covering her usual outfit, less imposing than the one she would be known and immortalised for.
And a smile… Expressive and radiant as the sun, to accompany fluttering eyebrows.
No fangs in sight.
It turns her aghast, with her eyes agape gazing at what she had longed to see for an eon, after all the desolation and the sempiternal visages of undead spawn.
It bewilders her, clouds up everything but what she’s locked her gaze upon for dear life.
(“... I missed you. I thought I would have lost you all this time and yet… We see each other again. Elizabeth.”)
In her rose tinted daze, she leans forward, to reach out to her eidolon, caress the likeness she was robbed of. Leans so far in fact that she manages to…
“O-ohhaa!! Oi!”
Trip. Her heel gets caught up in the space under the drawer.
“M-mhmh… Careful now, you, getting so smitten…”
Taking care to get back on her feet, she can't help but grin at who's facing her in the mirror, akin to seeing a long lost friend. More carefully this time, she extends her hand to the mirror, giving it a gentle stroke. Her already vibrant expression lightens up, that grin from before now wholly adorning her face.
It fills her with a glee almost newfound to her. One she decides to keep close.
"I apologise in advance if this is selfish of me… But I have longed for this far too long. Please, this smile… Allow me to hold on to it. Allow me this much.”
She takes her leave, giving her reflection one last heartfelt touch. With an elated charge, she storms out of her room, lusting for sunlight, for fresh air. However, before she manages to make a step too many, that charge is met with a bumpy stop.
A bump she soon realises is with another person. A young woman of rather timid structure, donning bespectacled hair and sizeable glasses, pointy ears with matching earrings along with a pokey smile completing her visage.
???: "I-I'm terribly sorry!! I on-only meant t-to pass by I wasn't meaning to--!"
Briefly startled, Elizabeth offers her hand to the woman with a grin.
"Ahaha, oh, no need to get so worked up, we simply bumped into each other! Come on, I’ll help you up.", she tells her.
???: "E-eee- I shall accept!!
…
Umm... I... Well... Ehhehe..."
Elizabeth: "Golly..."
She carefully offers her a pat on the shoulder.
"Tell me, are you hurt anywhere? I was going to head to the infirmary in search of a medic for something important, so if you need anything I could–"
???: "Oh, please, there is no need!!! I-I was the one not paying attention! Besides, Umm..."
Taking a small gulp, she presents to Elizabeth a suitcase, bearing a royal emblem with an ornate insignia right by, both permanently woven onto it.
"Y-you see, m... Miss Bloodflame, I..."
She swiftly assumes a firm salute, as if reporting to a superior, dropping her suitcase in a frenzied scare.
"I-iJustHappenedToBeAroundTheChamberWhileYouWereHavingYourBriefingIDidn'tMeanToIntrudeOrEavesdropIJustReallyWantedToAccompanyMissBloodflameToWhereverSheMightNeedAMedicAsAnEscortForIt'sBeenADream- ADreamOfMineToTravelWithSuchAKnightAnd- I-i understand you may not want somebody so vulnerable by your side I might be a nuisance but as an esteemed medic of the royal forces--"
Elizabeth: "Tsk, Ahh..."
She gives her arm a nudge with her elbow.
"I know that voice! Just took me a bit to realise it's you! You're Minerva, if I'm not mistaken, Minerva Himmelheim?"
(“Minerva… Minerva who?”)
Minerva responds with a restrained nod.
Elizabeth: "What's all the rambling for then, you silly sod? I should be the timid one here, not you!!"
Minerva: "E-even so!! You're the King's long time squire, how could I—!"
Elizabeth: "Genuinely, I likely wouldn't be here were it not for you and your medical team, so my health is beholden to all of you."
She embraces Minerva as a token of appreciation.
"Thank you so much..."
(“I recall a medic but… I-I guess I must've forgotten…”)
Minerva fails to contain herself at the sound of Elizabeth's remark. The embrace she finds herself wrapped in causes her heart to flutter, her chest to warm up. Bright blushing soon adorns her face, as she breaks down into a surge of incomprehensible noises, her pupils palpitating to her feverish heartbeat. She repays the gesture, with an even tighter if not clumsy embrace.
Elizabeth airily pats her back, the squeeze almost suffocating.
"O-oi you- you're squeezing me~ eheh, my bones cannot withstand—"
However, taking it in stride, Minerva leaps away from the embrace in a panic.
"O-oh my apologies, sh-should I tend to your wounds?? P-please allow me, i-if–!"
Elizabeth: "Oi, oi now, I was just jesting, I was jesting!! I'm perfectly fine!!"
She can't help but break into laughter, profoundly amused by Minerva's demeanour.
Minerva: "I-i swear with your playfulness, Miss Bloodflame..."
Elizabeth: "I-I can't--! Can't help it, with how precious you are, I can't!!"
Minerva: "Uaaauauauaa, I can't be this easy to tease!! Oh gosh I.... I might need to.. Find something for myself at this point, I wasn't prepared for this--"
She kneels beside her suitcase and begins eagerly scrounging around her elixirs and gauzes in search for anything, frankly an anesthetic is what she feels would quell her vehement palpitations.
She collapses beside her suitcase, eyes swirling as she opens the suitcase, revealing medical instruments and elixirs of various kinds. She starts scrounging around it all as she maintains a cubbish whimper, ignoring the mess.
"Uh…
Listen... It’s… Regarding what I am seeking.”
Minerva: “Eeeh?”
Elizabeth: “It is for a quest I was assigned to tend to. Due to its nature, it requires me to bring a medic as escort.
Besides I- hh… I got this mighty headache, it’s been killing me all day…”
("D-Don't give me off like that!! Wait, can you tell I'm here?")
"And having struggled to find a capable medic in past missions, I would... If it's of no mind... S-so I can also figure out what to do with this ailment of mine...
... He-HEY, are you even listening to me!?"
Firmly stuck in her trance, Minerva hasn’t even batted an eyelid, still digging around her kit.
Elizabeth: "My my, you really are far gone... Ahem..."
She strides forward, almost marching to her position, and leans down by her side, resting her hand on the medic’s shoulder. The touch causes Minerva to shakily shift upward, finally meeting her gaze for the first time.
"Would you, miss Himmelheim, be willing to join me as a medic in the mission I'm embarking on, perchance?", she enquires her in a plodding pace to her words.
"H-...
Huueeeh~!??!??"
Minerva swiftly turns to her, her face turning deep red.
"B-b-b-b-bu-bu-bu--!!", she utters, before blocking her mouth, breaking down into squealing and cheeping.
"It was a simple request, was it not?
With all this expertise under your belt, I feel you would make for a fitting escort..."
Her eyes briefly glow as she takes Minerva's hands, keeping a gaze upon her unfittingly mature for a squire of her age.
"Come on, up we go…
Ah, I should probably tend to this bedlam here…"
After raising the medic back to her feet, she begins neatly tidying up her medical kit, jauntily humming under her breath.
Minerva: "I… I-I-I suppose it should be- I mean!!
I suppose I-I am willing…"
Elizabeth: "Oh, lovely then!
We~ shall inform His Majesty first, however. He requested to see my companion before embarking. As for what we are journeying for…
I shall brief you on the road."
She returns Minerva her suitcase and pats her arm twice.
"Now come on, off we go!"
Minerva: "Y-yes ma'am!!"
With her newfound questing partner in her stead, Elizabeth enters the king's chamber once more, around afternoon's eve. Her escort stares at her with a questioning glee, unaware of the context but nonetheless elated to be here.
Using a tone she had longed direly to use again, her eyes emitting a glow just faint, she exclaims towards Lugunius:
"YOUR MAJESTY MY KING!
I, ELIZABETH ROSE BLOODFLAME, AM DELIGHTED TO ANNOUNCE THAT I HAVE FOUND AN ESTEEMED ESCORT OF THE HEALING ARTS!", her voice reverberating heartily throughout the room's expanse.
Lugunius rapidly raises his brow, blinking in surprise.
"Hmm, yes I can see that. You may quieten down now.
Shouting like this in the chamber, it's rather uncouth."
Elizabeth: "Oh don't be so stiff, have a laugh or two! Anyway, when shall we start heading for the village?"
Minerva reluctantly tugs at the squire's robe.
"M-miss Bloodflame, you haven't even introduced me..."
Lugunius glances at the placid medic, appearing from Elizabeth's back, to whom he returns his gaze toward.
"May I inquire about any details regarding your escort?"
Elizabeth: "Ah, pff. Pardon me, I slipped. KHM!! This esteemed and adroit presence accompanying me goes by the name of...! Minerva.", she exclaims, swiftly bowing at the slightly awestruck woman.
"It is my honour to provide myself to you as a guardian."
Minerva: "Wait wh-why are you bowing to-..."
Lugunius: "Fear not. Miss Bloodflame is always very courteous towards those she is tasked to become aide to."
He assumes a more casual stance as he rises from his throne and approaches the pair.
"If I may, Miss…”
Minerva: “A-ah… Himmelheim. Minerva Himmelheim.”
Lugunius: “Miss Himmelheim. If I may bid you to await your companion outside."
Minerva: “As you wish, Your Majesty.”
Following her withdrawing from the hall, Lugunius holds Elizabeth's hand, pulling her away from the entrance.
She does not object to it, traipsing in his stead.
Elizabeth: "What is the matter, you seem rather agitated-"
Lugunius: "I am not. I am simply confused. What is it that has caused you so much unrest?"
Elizabeth: "Unrest? Me!?", she responds with a slightly imperious tone.
Lugunius: "Yes, that tone… It doesn’t sound like you at all. Have you not noticed?”
Elizabeth: “Ah…”
The chamber quietens.
Her entire posture languishes, and she drops to her knees.
The tension she exuded mere moments ago, this pompous demeanour, all vanishing in an instant.
She raises her gaze to face him, replying with a timbre juxtaposing her previous one, a look of remorse now dominating her visage:
"I beg for your forgiveness, my king, and your mercy. I am afraid that I find myself utterly nescient as to what brought this forth.
I shall make sure to rectify this behaviour...
Oh, my head..."
In relief to hear his guardian’s familiar voice, Lugunius takes her hand and lifts it amiably to assist her back to her feet, minding for her balance by promptly holding her shoulders.
“If I may, I’d like to implore your pardon for this question.”
Elizabeth: “Prithee. I heed.”
Lugunius: “The change in your voice, as well as your demeanour… I am afraid it all indicates a manifestation of possession. Losing oneself by means of a foreign spirit.
I cannot attest to being very enlightened regarding these matters, but if what I just witnessed was indeed the result of one effigy’s influence over your actions, sending you out on this assignment would be… Imprudent.”
She raises her head towards him, eyes widening in alert.
"N-No! Virtues all, I would never succumb to such witchcraft, I-I’m sure of it! My liege, I can assure you that my ability to carry this duty remains unaltered, in spite of any ailments that befall me."
Lugunius: "It is not so pertinent a burden as to take it so gravely upon yourself… Your unwavering desire is remarkable, but there is no guarantee therewithal that this ailment could be more perilous than we can comprehend…
Especially in the case of it being the ramification of any occult origins… You could be lead to overexert, it’s simply- simply too dangerous to-”
Elizabeth: "B-but, Master, I-"
The gate to the chamber opens, cutting her sentence short.
"Then I am also not going."
Having heard the onsetting commotion, Minerva declares, with a demeanour contrasting her usual one. Her steps echo in rhythm as she draws near her guardian, walking past her. She brings herself to a standstill, facing Lugunius.
Lugunius: “...To what do we owe this interruption, Miss Himmelheim?”
Minerva: "If Miss Bloodflame is not the one to take me to the village, Your Majesty, I am afraid I feel too vulnerable to go."
Elizabeth: "Huh?"
Lugunius raises his eyebrow.
"... In that case, would you be able to propose any alternative?"
Following his inquiry, Minerva throws a glimpse directly at the squire, forming a soft grin.
"I suggest we take her in and tend to what her ailment could be. Bottom line, if it is theurgy of any kind, we could summon a reverend to rid her of any curses or malevolent spirits. Serving as your scabbard after all, I am afraid that it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for her to get bewitched…
Possibly by somebody intending to cause harm."
Taking a pause for thought amid pacing about, he turns to face her, responding with a nod.
"That is a fair enough course of action, I suppose…”
He paces towards his throne, where he sits.
"Shall anything critical or unexpected happen while you're being treated, you will receive news of it right away.", he tells Elizabeth, to which she offers him a heartfelt gratitude, and withdraws with Minerva, who's trying to contain her overflowing excitement.
Thus the afternoon leads to evening, and the squire is atop a medical bed.
But even after several hours of different examinations on her, occasionally delving into alchemy…
Minerva: “... She is perfectly healthy.
I’d noticed her changes in tone too, it wasn’t just him… But she- I clock nothing on her.”
She takes her seat beside Elizabeth, who’s long slipped out of consciousness.
“Then if nothing… if nothing is wrong with you…
Why could I hear a rumble… through the stethoscope?
… Could you… could you be?”
For Elizabeth, things begin reverting back to white and grey.
Until... A blaring, thunderous wail yanks her out of her slumber. She springs to life, instinct driving her glances to get her bearings.
The room she was examined in sits dark, open windows letting in winds laden with ash.
It sends her into a scurry.
Elizabeth: “Thorn… Thorn where- where is…!!
There!!!”
She dashes towards him, laying by the door, and sheathes him.
Before it provides her with the most fleeting moment of relief, however, she is frightened by the raucous sound of shattering windows.
It’s followed by wails and screams, filling the rooms outside hers. Putting a single thought into words proves too difficult, the cacophony of noises wholly engulfing her ears.
But amidst all this ardent bedlam, she starts to pick on another, more harrowing sound, amidst unintelligible muttering and snarling. One not unlike what she's heard before, yet still too far from anything familiar.
???: "The voices... Heed... For flesh... Rend... REND..."
???: "Feast... Must... Fe-ee...ast..."
Soon the discordant wording reverts back to its zealous, beastly form, followed by desperate cries for help, cries promptly getting torn to pieces and fading in the dissonance. Within the choir of death, she is able to make out a familiar voice, joining the others in the gruesome ensemble.
Minerva: "N-no, for the virtues’ blessing, please snap ouAAAAAAAAAAAARGHAAAAAAAAAA-s-st-gugh..."
Elizabeth: "Mi...nerva...? Minerva!"
The dying screams of her escort make her hitch up, the fire on her chest blaring as if it's trying to break free from binding chains, donning a warmer tone than the usual azure.
Her eyes are sent fluttering.
(“No, no… Not again, calm…”)
She paces her breaths to quell it, as if it's alive. Before poising herself, walking up to her room's exit.
“... Here goes nothing.”
Carefully, the door is opened. Not a creak to be heard.
From there, she begins a slow, meticulous, yet gauche march forwards. Thorn kept in an iron grip, the blade almost taking on the form of a sanctuary.
Before her, smoke and carnage. All that makes it to her slender field of vision is heaps of mangled body parts, strewn about, hanging from door knobs and broken furniture.
???: “M-mummy…?”
Elizabeth: “... A child?”
???: “Mummy, wh-... what’s wrong?”
Cracking bones answering the question from the other room. Elizabeth follows the sounds.
???: “G-aaaaah!!”
Scurrying thumps. Aching, hasted breathing. The knob begins to turn before Elizabeth, as she’s closing in on the door barring her from the voices.
???: “P-please let me- let me out!!”
Shrill whimpers pierce her heart.
???: "MUMMY, PLEASE WAKE UP! YOU'RE NOT THIS MONSTER, THEY CAN'T HAVE TAKEN YOU!!"
The turning stops. His voice distances away.
It causes her heart to race in dread, gasps replacing inhales.
Her voice nearly cracks as she punches the door.
“I’M HERE!! PLEASE, OPEN THE DOOR, I’LL PROTECT YOU!”
Waiting for not even an instant, she contributes in the effort, but it’s futile. It’s locked, and the key’s stuck in the lock.
???: “M-miss, watch o–!”
Elizabeth: “Aah!”
A gnash, followed by another, and another in a flurry. Ghoulish growls, sometimes pained, sometimes elated. The door bulges before her, giving in to the attacks, making her jump back.
Held by her own tenacity, she maintains her footing, holding onto Thorn.
“I got to… I got to get to him…
Please… Let him be safe…”
Raising her sword, she poises herself for a decisive dash. And strikes, focusing her might.
“RUAAAGGGH!!”
The door is split in two, the tip of her scarlet blade passing through it, then through…
The resemblance of a woman. Straight, blonde hair devoid of brightness, swelled up and drenched in sweat, barely held onto a body disfigured, barely discernible to her through the havoc.
“Oh… Dear virtues, what-...”
Before she’s able to clear her vision, Elizabeth loses track of the humanlike entity she impaled, who crumbles to the ground. If only for a bit, it brings her repose.
???: “U…u-uu…”
Muffled whimpers and sniffles, of someone content yet weary. She perks up, jittering her gaze about.
Inching ahead.
Elizabeth: “Yo-you can come out now! I… I heard your voice earlier, you… You can trust me!”
She tries to keep a tone as comforting as possible, shaky breaths concealed.
Before a creak makes her vamp shift.
???: “U…Umm…”
From the cupboard she’s facing, a short, slender form appears, cautiously. His hands shake, eyes filled with tears, trickling along a face bright red, laden with lacerations. A grinning squire welcomes him, awaiting genuflect.
She opens her arms.
Elizabeth: “Come. You’re safe now, I’m here.”
???: “You… you are not going to… t-try to…”
Elizabeth: “Mhmh, they can’t hurt me. No need to be afraid.”
The child jumps at her before she recollects her breath, almost clenching her. She holds him close, in a warm embrace, gently rubbing his back. Profound sobbing fills her ears.
“Shhh… Shhhh…
Hey… Let me take a gander at you, are you hurt?”
She gently urges him to take a step back.
Elizabeth: “O…oh. Oh my goodness, wh- what did this to you?? You’re covered in wounds!”
Her expression screams dread, finding more and more gashes as she turns him around.
???: “M… Mummy… It-it wasn’t- she-...”
Elizabeth: “Mm? Your mother did this to you…?”
???: “N-no!! She was… She was protecting me like- like you, but then she-... One of the doctors hi-... hit her, and she fell… He was s-scary…”
Elizabeth: “Was he…”
With a long sigh, she holds his arms close and locks right onto his eyes.
“Was he- how did he look like to you?”
He shakes his head, fervently, trying to escape her hold.
Elizabeth: (“What did he even witness, gosh…”)
“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…
Pardon me for asking. Let’s… Let’s get out of here first, get somewhere sa… fe…”
???: “Uaaaah!!! E..eee…”
The commotion from earlier, one she didn’t consider. The consequences catch her by surprise.
By the battered door frame, standing in a limp, contorting shoulders. Silhouettes with gaping mouths.
Smoke begins permeating through the halls and wards, fogging Elizabeth’s vision. The boy can’t bear to even glance. Groaning strikes them with fear, accompanied by brooding footsteps, creeping closer. Human voices occasionally mix in, but only for a flash before tapering off into the deathly monotony.
Their eyes glow a deep violet, ominous gas oozing from their mouths.
???: "My... Scratches they... They itch..."
His faint voice barely reaches her ears, altering her away from their hypnotic stares.
“W-what do you- what do you mean they itch? Do they hurt?”
???: "Th- ow… they itch a lot… I-it was like my m-mummy said…”
Elizabeth: “Like… Like your mother’s…”
Her eyes widen in an instant, as she turns back, facing the rent carcass of the woman she dug her blade into.
Her pupils dilate and deepen, head whistling.
She’s engulfed, not aware from what, but her face enshrouds itself behind her hair, not bearing to look at anything but the ground, not bearing to let a word escape. Whistles and groans gnawing at her.
???: “M-miss…? Ah- Miss!!”
The one clenching now is Elizabeth. Clenching him tightly, as close as she can as she runs head first at them.
Elizabeth: “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”
Her taut and muscled shoulders, minutely weary from the peril, are used as a battering ram. Bodies cascade and disintegrate around her upon contact, getting naught a chance to strike, naught a chance to even sense her. A fire, collected yet fierce, razes with a roaring voice.
She maintains this posture, running out into and down the ward, towards the staircase leading to the ground floor.
???: “N… ng… nn…”
Elizabeth: “Shh, we-... we’re almost out, please hang in there! I’m not letting you go, hold on tight!”
???: "U-ugha-what's... Aa-agh..."
Suddenly, bones crack and snap. The bodily sounds echo. Right under her head.
Elizabeth: “H-hu…”
She feels convulsions, spasms, as she runs through more of the shamblers, a number ceaseless.
“No… No, no no, please! Please listen to me, hold me tight if it helps! Don’t let this take yo-...
You…”
The moonlight gets covered up. In black and red. Exits barred. She hesitantly tumbles back, towards a window outside.
Crackling rumbles of conflagration in unison with inhumane cries, vying and salivating.
???: “M-...mi… miss- a-aggag…gu…”
Elizabeth: “Mmm?”
In a last bout of consciousness, he leaps away from the squire, tumbling further towards the voices.
Elizabeth: “W-wait!! Don’t approach them, they’re going to-...!!”
???: “guhAAh… u… gg…”
His skin swollens up.
Elizabeth: “No…”
The convulsions cease. His voice, no more.
Elizabeth: “P-please, if you’re safe, answer me!! I can’t see- goodness I have to che- Khhh!”
???: “r…ruuuuuuuuuhh…”
A high pitched, sickly, hollow howl. Ground briefly glowing purple from eyes once vibrant. Torso contorted beyond human limits, a stance crooked.
The head of the boy jitters upward, rising from its knees, hands and arms limping forward, necrotic.
Elizabeth: “Is… is that y…you…?”
Her voice barely travels forth in the pandemonium.
???: “aaaaaaaaaa… aaaaAAaaAaa…”
She raises Thorn.
Elizabeth: “S-stay back… Stay back!!"
The effigies encircle him, as kin. Corrupted, misshapen dispositions, inching towards her.
As she finds herself in a corner, a space ever shrinking, striking down one after another with all the strength she has, desperate to avoid hitting the boy she once protected… Her eyes ultimately land on the true form of her enemies.
Decomposing bodies.
By all means having met their end, yet somehow standing upright and moving.
Elizabeth: “L… Living corpses…
You’re li-living corpses…!”
Strike, sweep, strike again, downward, flurry of thrusts, bludgeon, rend. Don’t let their weight over yours, don’t let them scratch you, not even a touch, not even a breadth closer.
(“There’s nothing… Nothing I can do, they’re… They’re overpowering me, there’s too many!”)
The strikes turn into struggling, flurries into pushing back. To widen the space between her and the putrefaction gnawing at her vamps, her arms. Her head.
Deep, hollow growls rising above her, ever increasingly ardent.
Don’t let them overwhelm your balance.
Elizabeth: “HhhhAAAAAAAAARG!!!!”
A resolute push, using all her might, forces the reanimated cadavers to tumble. Like a house of cards, one following another. The wearied wooden staircase bends under the weight, but to the squire it matters little.
She can see before her once again.
Elizabeth: (“Right, time to make an escape. I need to seek Lugunius…”)
Before she begins her dash outside, however, she notices, to her side as she descends the staircase, a familiar figure.
Head almost torn from the neck. glasses battered, bent and broken. Hands holding withered flowers, trampled into submission. Her skin and garments bitten into and shredded apart.
An open medical kit, all kinds of medical implements scattered among organs and other human remains.
With heavy steps, she approaches the medic’s body, once desecrated like the rest, and raises her hand towards her hollowed face.
She lowers the body’s eyelids, with a sigh like the void as she removes her cape to cover it.
Elizabeth: “... I hope I can avenge you… I yearn so, Minerva… And that boy as well.
I should not have–...
I shouldn’t have let my guard down…”
Her voice shakes and chokes up. That dash she was considering, now looking towards the exit, radiating with flames, resembles a far gone dream. Almost like she’s beckoned to stay, no matter what, no matter how much she knows she should leave this place behind. Run from the calamity.
Her fire wavers off, limping steps as if she was carrying the weight of a planet, stopping right before the gate outside.
Her knees betray her. Arms hanging, pushing the floor, as sobbing is clouding up her voice. Fluttering between tottering breaths.
Tears drench her knees, the floor, Thorn… Then the room.
???: “u… u-U…”
A small arm, rising. Then another. And another.
She spazzes into life under the cape she was covered in.
Crackling of embers, drowned out, once more.
Their blood, longing to feast, drawn to the squire’s ached pules.
Elizabeth: “H… hu…h?”
Taking notice, she jitters around.
They call for her. Immortal attraction.
Closing in on her, salivating acid.
Yet she has not the heart to move. Not even the slightest shift.
Elizabeth: “... It is fated.
Isn’t it…?”
Her shoulders sag. It’s getting harder to breathe.
“One can’t long for comfort in a life of sin…
This…”
They pin her to the ground. Lunging with appetite. Fiendish devoration.
A chuckle, faint.
“This is what I d-deserve… a-gh… gg…”
Her vision begins to discolour. All she can gaze at amidst the rot is her hand. Once a rosy pink, it made her feel so human, even for these fleeting moments… But after all this time, even in a dream…
“I sh-shall… join-... join you then…
we’re the same… after all…”
That hand begins to lose vitality. Eaten by a child with lacerations on his face.
Heavy in her own skin. Her cheeks swell.
Voice coarsening.
“M-...may this… be… at-tonement…”
It feels cold… A void encircles her soul.
Pulling her down… A million hands, into murky depths.
Detached and doomed to witness… What once was her abode, her vessel, rising from its place, contorting in their stead.
Once a voice so vigorous and spirited, now reduced to abide by the choir of the dead. The fire on her chest, now no more.
A scarlet squire, shambling with the flock. Lead by the coursing blood.