Chereads / Eros: The Forgotten God / Chapter 7 - Chapter 7: Run

Chapter 7 - Chapter 7: Run

A second. In just a second, everything had changed. Eros had merely looked away for a fraction of a moment only to return, desecrated, spattered, painted in the now extinguished lives of his peers. His mind froze upon the sight of the troll, sparsely capable of composing even the most barbaric, instinctual thoughts. He could only lament, his heart taking control of his reason, a lullaby of despair, the only ambience to grace his ears in place of the shell-shocked ring he oh so prayed for.

The baritone crunch of bone rattled in the distance, the dank, restrained quenching of muscle-turned blood that poured ceaselessly down the abomination's unfeasibly potent grip. The world appeared drab to the boy, permanently dyed in the monochrome colour of crimson. His body unconsciously trembled, his anatomy weak, feeble, as though mirroring the lifeless cadavers that filled his view, drained of strength he could solely watch on, to gaze upon the radiant, blood-curdling world of red.

This would be the end. Eros knew as such. Yet, despite the woebegone portrait painted evidently for all to see and bearing not even the faintest temperament that could be described as gallant or courageous to go on in such a fruitless fight, his gaze moved once more, the object of its attention a holy contrast of scarlet bearing a body that could be described as bewitching.

Fiamma, her figure a petrified mirror of hyperborean despondence, eyes of ruby that once flickered with an endless tyrannical dominance now little more than decayed gems, her skin a ghastly, indisposed and diseased shade of blanched white, her back lay unconsciously slouched, her shoulders descending in a lifeless display of carnal terror, she couldn't think, her mind had given up on such mortal process long ago, now, she could merely stare, aghast and disheartened at the incomprehensibly draconian physique of the troll, Fiamma should have been able to see it, throughout the mass of flames only Fiamma held dominion and yet, she had remained unenlightened to the creatures approach. Even her eyes bearing a perception multitudes greater than that of a normal human had failed to descry the catastrophe given body, merely capturing flowing rivers of blood that wrecked its path.

Eros gazed at the girl, his thoughts a muddled mess, stained, blemished by forlorn ideas of a fated death. He knew there was no way to escape such destiny, such condemned demise, and yet, he still refused to simply perish. There was still a chance, however feeble it may be, that such profane creature could die, and the girl before him was the messiah to such a dream, the only being capable of bloodshed that remained. Instinctually his body began to move, unbothered by the sudden transfer of beady black eyes upon his visage. Eros's legs trembled with every step, his muscles threatening to peel from the very bone upon which they rested. Blood failed to flow to the extremities he demanded, falling limp, uncaring, as though a martyr willing to sacrifice itself for no apparent reason. Still, Eros flayed it into action, until his heart that once ran cold gained warmth. He had to move, this was the only chance of escape, or at least the boy believed such. The monster hadn't killed him the first time around for reasons unknown, nor Fiamma, targeting solely those bearing mountains of its brethren.

Eros's steps appeared lethargic, weighted by the unhallowed sins of crimson that stained his form. His right eye lay coated, capable of sparsely seeing the world in an exclusive shade of scarlet. However, his goal remained unchanged, and within moments, he neared the shattered, melancholy visage of the beautiful girl adorned with a head of demonic red.

Words uttered not from Eros's lips, he simply reached, pulling the girl by her dangling limb that appeared to jolt under the sudden stimuli. Her world that once seemed to be numbing, glacial and distant, ostracised from all, gained heat, though one not bearing an overwhelming temperature akin to the flames she controlled; it was mellow, pleasing, her heart began to thaw, though she knew not the origin of the sudden calefaction until she gazed upon the source. Pale white, almost sickly in hue, the appendage gently wrapped around her right wrist without care for her permission, an arm, though not one she possessed, it was someone else's, the lone figure that remained undamaged amidst the calamities wake, that of a boy she previously thought unimpressive.

His hollow-brown eyes now appeared to blaze with the fervid light of life, defiant, as though mimicking the domineering aura she formerly exuded. Crimson cloaked half his face, bile one would usually find repulsive now little more than an additive to his courageous feat. All the while, from his bloodied, regurgitate-flavoured lips, he whispered but one word.

"Run,"

Eros pulled at Fiamma's arm, urging her into a state of locomotion, of broken steps that faintly trailed after the silhouetted boy's back, stained in that same reprehensible unholy shade, that which cowled her head, and unknowingly her cheeks, which broke out into a fever of a lesser extent.

{+40 Affection}

Such display befell the fleeing boy's vision, yet, he paid no heed, for his gaze was focused elsewhere upon the stirring creature he wished remained placid. The miasma of black sprouted tendrils underneath the 4-metre goliath, scraping upon his seaweed-green, almost leather-like flesh in a sultry, seductive manner, that which urged him, with thoughts of bloodlust and decay, to take action. Beady black eyes befell the diminutive figures of the pair, untamed arrogance and malicious, sadistic joy glistening from within, the toys it played once within its hands now little more than pools of blood and lose flesh that lay listlessly strewn to the side, animation befell its gait, its steps large and grandiose, however before it could even move it would freeze, its predatory gaze momentarily cowering under such eerie view, for from the origin of Eros's exposed uncorrupted left eye flashed a light, the entire pupil of chocolate-brown soon morphing into a vibrant shade of pink, such change new and unknown to the youth would usually only last for mere fractions of a second, however, this time it remained for longer than two.

Fear racked the mind of the berserk creature. It lay paralysed, its muscles cowering, hesitant to the instinctual, primal cry of murder and chaos that propelled the beast. Even after such a mysterious change ended, the troll merely lay there, unsure and distrustful as to its prey's true nature, for in such time, the couple had neared the second sun that veiled the horizon. Perspiration plagued Eros's form once more, sweltering droplets of acrimonious bile scorching whatever skin lay lamentably underneath. A sea of orange lay before the boy, with tongues of yellow and red that wished to reach out and lick him, to sear his flesh, to use his bones as fuel, the saliva that lay wasted by the youth's previous expulsion of gastric fluid dissolved in the pits of his mouth, draining him of the vitality he formerly possessed. Still, he spoke, neigh demanded the mentally lagging girl to answer his plea.

"Can you control the flames?"

Yet, he would be met with nought but silence, for no words spilt from Fiamma's dazed lips. However, that did not mean no action was taken. Amidst the sea of destruction appeared a path, like Moses, the flames split down the centre, their warmth unbearable though not deadly, scorched earth lay wasted, desecrated and disowned by its lover, now little more than a victim of false promises, it crunched underfoot as Eros bolted through such a path, his head never to return upon the source of all his grievances, flakes of wood and warmed sap sizzled, popping infinitely in the backdrop. In contrast, the land before appeared to distort, the air too humid to keep solid form, displaying mere falsehoods and lies.

With each step taken, the youth could feel his mind grow dim, the fluids in his body stirring, impassioned in a furore of self-destructive glee, the blood heading his brain broiled while the acid that lay dormant in his stomach resumed animation once more, Eros felt faint, his gaze tunnel-visioned, focused solely upon the path Fiamma designated, he wouldn't be able to last much longer, the fluids that sustained his body having all but disappeared. The beauty he clutched eyed the boy with magnanimous subconscious eyes, uncaring to the hand that restrained her field of motion nor the fact that such a lesser being was leading her. She noticed the shortness of breath that erupted in a steaming lump from his polychrome lips. Though she could not urge him to back down, this was the only way to survive. Despite the burning urge to fight that boiled within the pits of her mind, she knew such a battle would merely be fruitless, and that was when she noticed it, the slight off step in Eros's gate, the slant upon which he ran, and more importantly the miasma of black that stirred around them, the sacrilegious bloodline of those she killed seeking damnation.

The land within Eros's eyes turned hollow. The sinking corridor of claustrophobic despair finally consumed the world. While his body sank lower and lower to the ground.

*Bang*

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