Chilling rain fell like thousands of icy needles, splattering against Hollow's pale skin as he trudged onwards. He had pulled his black hood over his face, and water dripped from the edges. Heavy fog had begun to roll in, hiding the grim road ahead from the shambler's intense gaze.
Hollow had been on high alert ever since he had noticed that Faceless. He wasn't quite sure how he'd sensed it in the first place, nor did he know if he could replicate this result again. So he scanned his surroundings every twenty paces or so, an effort he liked to think had kept them safe up until now.
However, this fog was simply impossible to see through. It was a dark gray, and just as cold as the rain. The unshakable, corroding touch of death was far colder and harsher than even this, so Hollow this weather offered him no threat.
It was only a small comfort though, as Hollow was certain that something was wrong with this fog. The way the vapor clung to his skin... it didn't feel right. Like it was sticking to him, as if it were some kind of adhesive.
"Friend... I'm certain there's something wrong with this fog. What do you think?" Hollow asked, puzzling after he called out to his companion. He didn't really know what to call him, now that he thought about it.
"Geh. It looks like we'll need to pick up the pace even more. If we stay in this fog for much longer, you'll be unable to move. I assume you've realized what this is doing to you?" The Sinner said from somewhere behind Hollow. He tried to turn his head, but found the fog had begun to congeal, stopping his movements. Even if he could have turned around, the pale shambler couldn't see his comrade, as the fog had become far too dense by this point.
"I can't move very well. At least, not casually. How long do I have?" Hollow asked, slowly starting to flex and stretch his muscles, preparing to make a push forwards.
"About ten seconds at most. If I remember correctly, this fog can only affect a thousand meters at a time, and it's rather slow moving, meaning that once we get out of it, we'll be safe as long as we stay ahead of it. For reference, we're currently at the epicenter of the cloud." The Sinner said, that earlier edge of annoyance crystalizing.
"Got it. Before I move, what should I call you? Just calling you "Sinner" doesn't seem very kind, not after you've helped me so much." Hollow said slowly starting to push forwards, tensing his muscles, ready to spring into action in a split second.
"Heh heh, ah, I appreciate the thought, but I've long since forgotten my original name. Sinner will do, as it is a name I picked out for myself, and it is what I am. You yourself have a similarly tasteless name. Besides, you don't have any more time to waste." The Sinner chuckled, then calmly placing a gentle hand on Hollow's shoulder, urging him to run.
Without another word, Hollow sprung into action. A sound akin to glass cracking echoed through the area as Hollow began to run with all his might, shattering the foggy tendrils that had begun to snake around his form.
Even with his seemingly enhanced senses, Hollow could barely see his own limbs through the fog. The road beneath his feet was uneven and difficult to navigate, the terrain composed of mud, flesh or steel, and never in the same order.
He could hear the fog surging after him, howling like hungry wind. Luckily, the Sinner had been right. Hollow's danger sense told him he had perhaps a dozen feet of leeway, but he didn't dare slow down. In fact, he pushed to run even faster, as he could feel the rest of the fog ahead and around of him stirring, attempting to slow him down.
"How much further?" Hollow hissed, spitting the words in between his heavy breaths.
"Perhaps a hundred meters. You've made good time. It's been, say, seven seconds. You don't have much further to go. Just keep running!" The Sinner's voice echoed from ahead of the undead.
Once more, Hollow continued without speaking, simply exhaling before pushing himself to run even faster! He felt steel cracking beneath his boots, flesh tearing and mud spraying with each and every step. However, he could feel the fog's tendrils speeding up as well. Those dozen paces of leeway had shrunk to half that, at most.
Though it was still impossible to see through the fog, Hollow was certain that the edge was within the next ten paces. With that in mind, he stomped into the ground, and leaped forwards with all the might he could muster! He could tell he'd kicked up a wave of mud, corpses and armaments, a wave he hoped would slow down his pursuer just enough for him to escape safely.
Hollow's gambit had paid off! He broke through the fog and the dreary gray sky was currently the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. As he sailed through the air, he prepared to land, extending both feet so that he could immediately start moving again.
His right leg appeared, but his left leg was no where to be found. Dread pricked at the back of his mind, and Hollow looked behind him. When he'd leapt, the fog had done whatever its equivalent was, and had taken hold of his leg. It looked as though it was about to drag him back in, but luckily for Hollow, he hit the ground just as the fog began to pull.
Hollow slammed his hand into the gory mud with all his might, reaching for something, anything that could save him. He felt his fingers hook around a the lip of a breastplate of some kind. It slid slightly, but ultimately held fast as the tugging became more intense.
"Damn it all, don't be such a sore loser!" Hollow shouted at the fog, rage tinging his tone. He assumed it was some kind of living creature, though what manner it was, he couldn't tell.
The breastplate began to slip again, as the Hollow felt his leg muscles groan in protest, his flesh slowly tearing with each agonizing second. He gritted his teeth, and cursed the fog. The chest plate wasn't going to hold much longer, but neither was his leg. Between the two, he had more faith in his holding out, which would of course result in him being yanked back into the fog. The same outcome would be reached if the breastplate gave way.
Was this it? He'd only just started down the road. Surely, this couldn't be the end... No, it wouldn't be. Hollow looked to his belt, acknowledging the option he'd tried to ignore up until now. His hand axe hung there, its edge sharp as ever.
He was down to a split second to choose. If he was pulled back into the fog, there was no telling what might happen to him. If he lost a leg, he at least had a chance to escape.
Silver flashed, Hollow grunted as a white hot pain burned through his leg. He'd severed it at the knee. A furious grimace spread across his face, hatred gleaming behind his emerald eyes. In an instant, the tendrils disappeared back into the cloud, which immediately began to slowly drift forwards, eager to claim the rest of its prize.
Hollow immediately began to crawl, dragging himself across the mud with furious and reckless abandon. He felt the edge of sword split his skin open, warm blood bubbling forth from the new wound on his chest. He simply gritted his teeth, and continued forwards, his own blood mixing with the blood of the other fallen soldiers once again.
"Oh my, you certainly hate the idea of giving up. If you're willing to go this far, it wouldn't be right for me to hold back any longer." The Sinner said, stepping out of Hollow's shadow. In this low light, his shadow was slight. Hollow looked up in confusion, though he didn't stop crawling. No wonder the Sinner had decided to travel behind him.
"Sarem, I'm warning you. If you try to interfere any further, I will take action." The Sinner said, a blaze of eldritch green light poring from his eyes. He raised two of his hands, extending his fingers on one hand into a hook shape, while holding a palm beneath the hooked hand. The fog stopped moving, and after putting another meter of so between it and himself, Hollow stopped as well.
A low chuckle, vile and sharp echoed from the fog. A man stepped forth, dressed in a brightly colored set of clothes. Black, lime and yellow stripes ran up and down his body, with red and green lining his gloves. He wore a patched red cap, for which hung four tails, each with a golden bell at the tip.
Most notably of all, he wore a white mask with a black painted smile, and a yellow sun in place of his left eye, and blue moon in place of his right. He extended his hands, and gave each of them a small shake, as if to punctuate his arrival.
"He he he, so you're serious about this guy, huh? What if I was serious about him as well?" Sarem spoke, his voice nasal and jovial, yet it carried a deadly undertone, as if he might strike at any second.
Hollow's senses kicked into overdrive, screaming for him to run away with everything he had. Just what was this man?
Without so much as a word, a small green flame, no bigger than a finger sprung to life in the Sinner's palm. With a twitch of his fingers, he shot the mote of flame at Sarem, who simply stepped to the left and preformed a pirouette, avoiding the flame entirely.
The flame struck the fog and detonated. It evaporated that fog cloud in the blink of an eye, an ear shattering sizzle and a blinding flash of eldritch light that lit up the killing fields beyond for a split second!
"I suppose that's one way to respond. Ah, you really should get a sense of humor, Sinner. Life is much more fun if you can laugh about silly pranks like this." Sarem said, scratching the back of his neck as he spoke.
Before the Sinner could respond, Sarem cut him off with a finger wag.
"I'll leave you alone for the time being. Looks like you have enough trouble ahead of you, anyway. As always, I'll be watching." Sarem said, turning to leave. However, he spun on his heel and turned back to Hollow.
"Oh, and Hollow. You really should pay more attention to your surroundings. Who knows when you'll walk into another trap.~" Sarem said, accentuating the last word, then offering a small wave to the undead.
Hollow blinked, and Sarem was gone. The Sinner turned to his undead friend, and walked over to him. He bent down, and offered him a hand. Hollow took it, only to realize that he still only had one leg.
Just as he was about to say something, the Sinner simply smiled and energy coursed into Hollow's body, an invigorating fire that warmed his flesh and heated his bones. He felt a sharp spike of pain in his leg, and winced, only to feel new flesh pouring out of his wound, a set of bones lancing out as well. The flesh wrapped the bones, and the skin on his chest slid back together, his torn flesh regrown to fill the gash.
"Ah, you did say I would heal naturally... But I had no idea it would be this fast! Thank you. But wait-" Hollow exclaimed, flexing his newly regrown toes.
"Think nothing of it. In time, you'll do this without my assistance. And worry not. Your will has lit a fire within me. I will walk in your shadow once more, but do not hesitate to call for my aid... Though I admit I won't be able to do much for a while now." The Sinner said, pulling Hollow to his feet gently, his smile never fading.
"All right. Don't worry, you've done more than enough. Shall we continue?" Hollow asked, flashing a poorly mimicked smile at the Sinner.
"Ah ha ha... Of course. We'll need to work on that smile though, it's positively horrifying." The Sinner said, slipping back into his comrade's shadow as they began to travel once more.
"In that case, perhaps I'd best save it for intimidating my foes, heh heh ." Hollow said, chuckling.
His smile faded as his thoughts turned to Sarem. He could assume that man was his enemy. If he had to face foes like that, was this truly possible?
With his mind heavy with uncertainty, the corpse continued onwards.