Cascading sunlight slithers through the cracks of the ruin that was once a glorious castle. Its brilliance, making the specks of dust accumulated in the hall shine in silence.
*Swoosh*
The shadow of a figure, sprints through the corridor, the sunlight momentarily illuminating its existence.
Laborious breathing resounds throughout the hall, breaking the otherwise suffocating silence that permeated them for eons.
A few moments after the shadow appeared, a group of terrifying, black wearing ghosts hastily follow, giving chase.
Their figures are, but momentarily illuminated, nonetheless it is enough to let feat grasp the throat of those that lay eyes upon them.
They are seemingly floating in the air, wearing cloaks made out of the darkness that garnished these halls, and have faces that were lost in the passage of time. All that remains is a black canvas with two,empty slits, as if to substitute their long-lost eyes. Their figures a bloodthirsty mystery.
The shadow managed to evade them for so long but they are simply too fast. Their wails resound in the hallway, resembling the mournful cry of a vengeful ghost, signaling their approach and making the small shadow's heart tighten in fear.
It dashes and scrambles, running as fast as it could, uncaring of the amount of strain its muscles are in. Its breathing heavy, and its chest heaving. Every breath sharply cuts its throat and every step makes its legs shiver.
Its wearing a simple olive coloured hood, and torn brown rugs, from which one could interpret the amount of peril it withstood during this chase. Its left hand is tightly wrapped around a pitch-black coloured dagger. Its blade is too short to be a sword but too long to be a dagger. Its edge rough, rugged and asymmetrical, one could say it resembles the fang of a mighty behemoth. Its hilt looks exquisite, as if made to make the fang resemble a dagger in the first place. The image of a nine-headed, winged serpent, roaring destruction upon the world is imprinted on the hilt, and the hand-guard is nonexistent.
After running for what feels like ages, the shadow arrives at a crossroad. Its eyes dart left and right, trying to decide which direction it should take. This is not an easy decision, this place is not something one could simply pass through. Unknown perils reside in every corner of the ruin.
When it hastily decides to step through the left path, the shadow staggers. The moment it makes the first step, its whole body shivers, its pupils shrinking to pinpoints and the hair all over its body standing to attention.
Unknown and horrifying danger are lurking at the end of the path and its instincts are kind enough to warn it.
Without a second thought, it pivots on its heel, and darts through the right path, hoping for the best.
By the time it decides on a direction and changes it in the last minute, the hooded pursuers are almost upon him.
Their sorrowful screams and wails bounce of the narrow hallway making the shadow stumble. It feels the back of its neck freeze, as if someone is prickling its skin with needles. It anxiously turns its head back to take a look at the cloaked figures, only to see the surroundings slowly freeze, the frost originating from the figures and spreading through the ruin. Suddenly-
*Crack*
Its foot gets stuck at something and it tumbles forwards, its chin slamming on the floor. It tries to free its foot, only to find it impossible. It hastily turns to look at what the obstruction is only to see its foot encased in reflective-blue ice. Panic spreads through its expression, as it realizes it can not free itself.
Its face, finally visible, is repulsive. Its skin is green and its features enlarged, ruining the symmetry of its face. It looks like an ugly abomination, a mistake to existence itself.
The pursuers become rabid seeing the development and pounce on the creature, with fervor and an insatiable thirst for blood. Their hands reveal themselves from their cloaks, well, claws would be a more accurate description, shining with metallic luster, as if made from cold-steel.
The closest one spreads its limb ready to take the figure's head, its expression nonexistent, and the slits attached to its darkness filled face, slightly expand, as if rejoicing in the death of its prey.
The figure witnesses the sharp claws coming straight for its throat, and feels the chilling-cold permeate through its body, almost freezing its blood and stopping its heart. Its, surprisingly, pleasant irises once again shrink to the size of a pin's head.
"To think I would fall like this... So much lost, so much sacrificed, all for it to end here... I am unwilling... I am Unwilling! I AM UN-!"
Its expression, changing to fervor, its eyes expanding to stare at its killer, and its chest rising as if to show its dying struggle.
Suddenly, as if responding to its inward, useless cries, a brilliant explosion of darkness flows through the hall, with the shadow as its origin. Tides of darkness and formless shadows swallow the already minuscule amount of ambiance, shrouding the hall in pitch-black darkness. Inside the darkness a low, reverberating hum breaks the otherwise deadly silence, like a low-growl of a primordial beast. The shadow stupefied looks at the claw that froze a few inches away from its neck, cold sweat running down the side of its face. It slowly turns its gaze to stare at the dagger that its tightly grasping in its hand, only to see it glow with an indescribable ferocity.A red, iridescent light breaks the tide of darkness, as the dagger frees itself from the shadow's grip, and floats in the air, placing itself right in between the shadow and its attacker. It slowly floats and spins in the air, as if letting everyone understand its extraordinary disposition. Suddenly-
*Boom!*
A sound-breaking shock-wave spreads from it, as if its existence simply broke the barrier of existence, crashing unto the cloaked figures and sends them flying through multiple broken walls of the ruined hall. The shadow itself, feels a thud on its consciousness and its eyes roll to the back of its head, making it lose its senses. It finds itself in eternal and never-ending darkness. It looked around only to find more darkness, and murmurs. Voices coming through the abyss as if someone was whispering to him, beckoning him. The kind of voices one hears in the darkest hours, making one wonder whether they are simply machinations of the mind. You know, those sounds you convince yourself that are in your head so that you don't have to admit that someone is actually talking to you, through the abyss.
Meanwhile, inside the hall, the cloaked figures dazedly get up from getting blown back so hard they flew through wall after wall. After a few moments to regain their bearings, they turn towards the shadow's direction and dash manically, as if the timer is running out. Gods know what timer that is though.
When they finally arrive, they witness the shadow sprawled on the floor, in a state of semi-death, where its heart has seized beating but his brain is still alive. The mysterious dagger floats mid-air, above the shadow, slowly rotating. They are bewildered at the predicament. They lose sight of their goal, and are now simply standing aimlessly. Out of nowhere, the dagger starts shinning with a dim, red ambiance, which illuminates the abhorrent creatures. Their wails and screams of terror and fright fill the empty halls as their existence starts disintegrating. First their cloaks followed by their hands and then the rest of their bodies, start turning into an ethereal smoke dust, that is then absorbed by the terrifying dagger. A few moments later, the hall is empty. Silence governs the ruin once again, as if the long chase never happened. The dagger's ambiance retreated and it slowly floats back down and disappears inside the shadow's chest, passing right through it. Nothing happened for some time, the shadow simply lay there, in a state of semi-death, while the sound of nothingness rings continuously through the halls. Suddenly, a bright, multi-coloured spark flashed inside the hall, and expanded mid-air, turning into a whirlpool of colours and lights. It swirled and spun in the air, slowly stabilizing, and turning into some kind of rift in the plane of existence. Abruptly, a large foot, clad in deep-blue coloured armour revealed itself inside the hall, appearing through the rift. The armour had the colour of the deep sea and spikes covered its surface. Sharp talons complimented its menacing appearance. Following the foot, the knee and upper quad revealed themselves as well as the hand of the terrifying behemoth. Sharp claws adorned the deep-sea coloured gauntlets, and acid coated the terrifying armour, acid so corrosive it melted the surface of the floor the moment it came into contact with it. Slowly and steadily, a terrifying 3 meter behemoth, clad in deep-blue armour pulled himself out of the swirling rift...