Repeating the usual process, he conjured a handful of flaming swords that shot out like arrows at the scorched and stiff person standing in front of him. However, further from his expectations could not the reality before his eyes. In fact, it all happened so fast that his brain could not process what his eyes captured. The black, smoking thing moved with such a start that it would send a race car careening. Evading the blades with ease and swipe, the priest went flying until he crashed into the wall. The blow was such that the concrete gave way several centimeters and the wall was filled with cracks. His clothes must have been special, for he did not turn to mush when he hit the wall.
Instead of going to finish off his assailant, he ignored him completely, as well as a couple of living poles. Following his instincts, he ran down the shifting hallway and through a heavy door as if it were cardboard. He entered and not five seconds later, the horrified screams of a man who had decided to remain hidden as the insanity happened just yards from his door. The screams fell silent and moments later Mina came out of the room dragging, teeth clamped around his neck, a middle-aged man. The young men could not discriminate the man's expression because of the lack of light, they could only imagine what face he made at that moment. He writhed to the point that he appeared to be suffering from epilepsy, and then, after several seconds, he gave up. Mina dropped the body, in a spit, dry and stiff.
Just as with the blood from before, as if time was running in reverse, the stiff, scorched skin began to recover. In a matter of a minute or two, she had regained her beautiful porcelain frame and reddish cheeks, full of life. Her hair also recovered, at least in part. From the crown of her head, she had regrown her hair to her nape. She looked like a priceless collectible doll. Her eyes, which shone as if they were reflecting Mars. At times lucid and at other times, Mina looked like an empty vessel, the object of her impulses. From one moment to the next, her states of being shifted. It seemed as if she did not recognize where she was, or whether she was in reality or in a dream.
From the room she came out, not only with the man who had been her victim, but also with a large piece of cloth that evoked a bedspread with Turkish carpet designs, clutched between her fingers. He covered his slender body with the cloth.
A dozen or more shadow-like figures appeared along the corridor. The reason they were even visible was because, rather than being there, it was as if their outlines absorbed what little light came in from the clear summer night; voids in space that somehow evoked the human figure. They were completely motionless, but, for some reason, in their fluctuating state, when he could perceive the shadows, his expression painted horror.
Not knowing what to do, he stepped back, only to be met by another shadow. Careful not to run into them, he fled until he saw the stairs leading up to the third floor and was lost in the distance. Both Aiden and Acke, no matter how much they scratched their heads for days, would not find the words to describe what they saw.
—Tch. Trapped. Just like the brats —said mumbling, the priest, from under some rubble, and covered in his own blood—. I had to force a connection shutdown from my channel. Haha… Cough! Aah… The lord likes to put test after test, doesn't he? Sick sadist.
The image of the hunter, the expert, from before, was nowhere to be seen. Now, he just looked like an old man, by the peculiar color of his hair, at death's door. Several bull bones, surely several perforated places and one or another burst glass.
Out of sheer tenacity, he mustered all the strength he could and, staggering, rose from the rubble.
—Medicinal magic is not my forte… But… The night is long… The hunt has only just begun.
He picked up the ground hat and placed it in the air in front of him, a little higher than he was, and dropped it. It took as long to touch the ground as it takes for a leaf to fall, and it left a reddish curtain. When the play curtain vanished, the wizard was nowhere to be found, only an old and long-suffering black hat remained.
There was, however, no time to admire the feat. Aiden interrupted the silence by clearing his throat.
—We should get moving, too. Those shadows, even though they're just standing still, doing nothing, give me a bad feeling. And space is acting strange still. We don't sink more than a few centimeters, but there's no certainty that will change.
—I don't see the ladder where we came from before —Acke said.
—There's no other way. We'll keep climbing, just like they did —Aiden took a breath and clenched his fist—. It's the worst possible situation. There's not only a Freddy, but a couple of Draculas on the loose and running around the complex.