While Mariah and Sam were leaving, the rest of Emile's cohort sprung into action. Abiding the commands given by Emile, they each traveled to their respective position and got comfortable.
Emile and Roy climbed the camp's wall as it had been extended sometime in the past, making it now stand at around eighteen feet tall. Still, though, the bottom section of the wall contained the familiar holes their soldiers were slaughtered through previously.
As they sat their butt atop the wall, Roy activated his Gift and peered into the red fog: dilapidated trees, dead grass, and piles of sticks mixed with mud littered the terrain. Far in the distance, still standing tall, is the original Pearl Bell tree Emile threw just yesterday.
The tree gently swayed forward and back and its rainbow veins glistened in the daylight, marking its stark presence within the sea of red.
Roy scanned the plains from left to right, his vision penetrating through tree husks and the ground alike, but none of it managed to catch his eye.
Turning to Spright, he began to report his findings:
"There's no sign of —"
Roy's face froze. His eyes sunk into his head and his complexion paled. With quivering lips and a shaky hand, he raised his arm and pointed past Emile, over his shoulder and down the wall.
Without thinking, Emile spun his body around to face the direction Roy was pointing, but instead of the gray sky and long stretch of stone they sat upon, Emile was met face to face with a wet, dripping set of stained yellow teeth.
Emile froze, mostly confused. By the time fear etched its way into his heart, a low gurgle sounded behind him. The gurgle began slow, only happening every few seconds, but then it ramped up.
It became possessed with urgency as heavy breaths began to mix with the desperate attempts to breathe until eventually, silence reigned supreme.
Afraid to look away, Emile refused to turn around to figure out what the gurgling was. Instead, he narrowed his attention on the figure in front of him.
Black, bumpy skin. Cracked, bleeding lips. Emile panned up, not sure what he was expecting, but the creature's lack of a nose immediately caught his attention.
Two, black holes sat in the center of the beast's face. Above its nose, two hollowed out, white eyeballs protruded towards Emile.
The white eyes appeared slightly murky and as he stared into them, he could have sworn he saw something push against the inside of the eyeball.
Emile instinctively backed up and bumped into something. Looking over his shoulder though, nothing was there; until he heard the sound of flesh splattering against something hard.
Emile looked down and when he did he saw the lifeless eyes of Roy staring back at him. His body had been mangled, his arms and legs twisted and snapped in every direction they weren't supposed to go.
And worst of all, his lips had been cut open, penetrating his cheeks and forcefully stretching his smile up to his earlobes.
Emile blasted essence into his charm and bulleted down the wall, launching himself backwards and away from the monstrosity. Before falling off, he grabbed the wall's edge and rebalanced himself before casting his glance back down the wall.
The creature was gone, vanished like it was merely part of the wind, but Roy's body remained, blood and all.
Emile looked at the camp, searching for Blood and the canteen. The canteen sat at the back of the camp, resting against the rising mountains while the remaining facilities existed between.
Scanning between the workshops and living quarters, Emile managed to catch a glimpse of Blood racing towards him.
With Blood on the way, Emile dropped off the wall and sprinted towards Roy. He knelt beside the boy and raised his head, channeling essence into his body as fast as he could.
But his essence was being rejected. Or rather, there was nothing left alive within Roy's body to accept any essence.
"What happened?!" Blood slid across the ground and slammed into the wall, showing just how fast he raced over, "I saw your amulet flash, did something —"
Then he recognized Roy. Emile couldn't blame him though, the way he looked now was truly unrecognizable. With his limbs bent backwards and his face cut open, Roy resembled more of a human crab than a human at this point.
"What the f*** happened?" Blood's voice was crystal clear, but beneath the strong persona he liked to put on, Emile heard the shakiness in his voice.
"Calm down," Emile replied.
"Calm down?!" Blood grabbed Emile's collar and lifted him off of Roy, "It's been five minutes! Now tell me what the f*** happened!"
Emile grabbed Blood's wrist and stood up on his own. Now standing fully, Emile towered over Blood and looked down at him with a menacing gaze. Squeezing his wrist tighter, he responded:
"Don't lose your composure —" Emile threatened, "This is what he wants, he —"
"He?!!!" Blood roared, "You watched him die?!"
"Blood, I don't think you understand what's happening, you're doing exactly what it wants!" Emile yelled.
"Well at least I'm gonna do something! Unlike you!" Blood spat on Emile's shoes and wrestled himself free from Emile's grip.
"BLOOD!" Emile screamed, "I am telling you to get your shit together!"
Blood turned back, his lingering gaze struck at Emile's heart, piercing it like a knife. His red eyes exhumed hatred and as they grew even more bloodshot, the richer they became.
"I get that he didn't mean anything to you —" Blood's venomous tongue snapped at Emile, "but not all of us make friends so easily."
"Blood! What are you on abou —"
The black figure appeared behind Blood. It was bipedal, standing on two pointed limbs that resembled spears more than legs. Its lips were still spread wide open, permanently locked in an infinite, taunting smile.
Although it stood behind Blood, its white eyes were directed at Emile. Even without pupils, Emile could instinctually feel the same pressure as before.
Suffocating, overbearing, controlling. Emile wanted to scream. He wanted to flash across the camp and impale the beast with his bare hands, but he couldn't.
Then, its serrated arm ruptured Blood's back and exploded through his chest. His bloodshot eyes weakened and his penetrating gaze softened.
Blood looked down at the black sword protruding from his chest.
With his last ounce of energy, he looked back at Emile:
"Shit."