Even so, despite his rage at what he had lost, he could not overcome his fear. He was paralysed, frozen in place as if he was a statue. His fear overwhelmed him like a force of nature.
His arms fell limp, dropping his blade in the process. But the mud that covered its prestige sheen could not compare to what clouded his mind.
He stared blankly at the creature, deep into its eyes where its soul would be. Yet Lukas could not see a soul. No, he saw an empty abyss of cruelty and wicked inhumanity. Like a curse or stain on the world that was brought to life just to torment him.
But even though Lukas was defenceless and rendered all but immobile, the creature skittered away. Out of self-preservation, fear, indifference, boredom, or perhaps its own volition.
When it left, Lukas dropped to his knees, unable to stand any more. Tears rolled down his face, but he didn't know why he was crying. He was filled with vexation but didn't know if it was towards himself or the repugnant beast. He was as scared and cold as he was back then, in front of his massacred family. So weak and small.
Vesa had an ugly expression of disgust, or perhaps regret when she saw Lukas crumble. She could have run after the ghast, killed it even, but she didn't. She stayed by Lukas' side. She knew what pain he was going through. The scars of the mind are truly the worst.
A thousand memories and emotions flooded through him unfiltered. As if a dam in his mind was lifted, allowing nothing to be stopped.
In his uncontrolled trance of remembrance, he saw his mother's warm face. The diligent look in her eyes as she made dinner for the family. He saw that, although she grew sicker and weaker, her eyes still shined with love and care.
But now those eyes were still and lifeless. Filled with a glimpse of her final moments: fear and worry. He saw her organs spilt across the floor, her body nearly split in two with the hole in her abdomen. Then he saw the monster of Shorstone, its twisting horns that grasped the stars.
He thought of his father, his stern, tough, yet loving attitude towards life. He always brought back meat from hunts, or firewood in autumn. The slow, careful, and meticulous creation of traps for prey and toys for him and his siblings.
Now, however, his limbs were ripped to pieces and his head was nothing but a fine paste of blood and brain. The last remains of his body were scarred and beaten, his final moments spent defending his family. To no avail. The monster's towering height destroyed all in its wake.
He recalled his siblings. Ela always helped out around the house and with their mother. Caleb's endless imagination, creativity, and mischievousness. And little Amy's endless curiosity for the world, of which she had only briefly existed in.
But Caleb's body was crushed beneath the debris, he must have been the first of his family to die. Ela and Amy's bodies were all but completely mangled and disfigured. Both of them were entangled in a morbid knot of flesh, bone, and organs. Both of them were cast aside by the monster with its long and almost chimaera-like limbs.
But even when that was over, a thousand more memories came and went, what must've been at least a thousand times.
His body shook uncontrollably and his face was a mess of tears. He was scared, unable to be comforted. He was cold, unable to be warmed.
His mind was in a state of panicked frenzy. The edges of his mental stability and sense of humanity were frayed. Each thread snapped with each new flashing memory; with each new tear that rolled down his face.
A new lock and chain was placed over the source of his trauma. Yet, he couldn't help but remember it. No attempt to lock it all away was successful. No attempt to calm himself succeeded, nor did any attempt to bring himself back to reality,
He may have lost himself, forever changed, forever lost in grief. If Vesa were not there. All it took to calm him, to bring him back to earth, was one simple action:
Vesa hugged him.