Chereads / Sanguine Chronicles / Chapter 8 - VIII

Chapter 8 - VIII

My outburst was met but a mix of reactions with most looking just as surprised while Frankie only averted his eyes guiltily. Staring at him my heart pounded with anger, "You knew?" Frankie clenched his fist as he turned a shade paler, "What difference does it make?" "What difference?!" I asked icily as I stood, "What difference does it make that the man we trusted with our lives to lead us is the reason we're stuck in the hell hole?!" "The war wasn't his idea," Frankie gritted out through clenched teeth, "The actions of a Kingdom don't reflect the beliefs of its subjects." "Maybe for a farmer, or a blacksmith but not for a Champion. Not for the soldiers that marched through my ancestral home and burned it to the ground before selling us like cattle in order to save their own hides!" I spat my voice slowly rising in volume as it trembled with barely constrained rage. "Your people weren't the only ones put into bondage," Frankie snapped back before pounding his chest, "I'm here too or do you think my suffering doesn't count for anything." "Your suffering is the result of your own hubris," I roared into the church, my voice cracking as years of suppressed turmoil roiled to the surface, "Every decision that led to this outcome came with a choice and that is what is important! You had the power to decide your fate, while I had it ripped from me at spear point!" Frankie opened his mouth again but the next voice that echoed out in the church wasn't his, "That's enough Frankie." Every head in the church turned to stare at the boss who walked through the doors with dead footsteps. His clothes were torn hanging off his frame by meer threads and what little remained was covered and dripping with blood. But despite my best efforts I could not find a single wound across his body. Taking a step back my heart hammered in my chest as my mind screamed at me to run away. Seeing the fear plain across my face the boss let out a long sigh as his hands were covered in blood unclenched, "Ramos…you may not believe me. But I did not have any part in the war against Elysire." "It wasn't a war," I whispered harshly, "My people were not warriors, we were crafters, traders and scholars that sought to learn about the world and its secrets. What your people did was genocide." Gunther closed his eyes briefly as he let out a long sigh, "I was already captured by the Fae when the Crusades began. I only learned news of it when my captor used the information to torment me for his own sick enjoyment. I had planned never to use my magic again but… here we are." Opening his eyes Gunther looked from me to the rest of the group still huddled within the church, "I can only ask for your forgiveness and hope that my past and future actions can redeem my-" Gunther's speech stopped in the middle of his sentence and he doubled over falling to the ground clutching at his stomach in pain. "Boss?!" Frankie shouted as he ran over to help, reaching Gunther's side in the blink of an eye, "What's going on boss? Are you hurt?" Instead of answering, Gunther's hand shot up to grab Frankie's shirt as he stared into his bloodshot eyes, "RUN!!" The next instant there was a loud tearing sound and I watched someone die in front of my eyes for the second time that day. In a scene straight from hell bone spikes erupted from Gunther's body spearing through his stomach, chest and neck leaving him strewn up like a rabbit caught in a pair of deer antlers. "Boss!!" Frankie roared but before he could so much as twitch his eyes went wide and the same sound of flesh tearing apart at the seams rang out once more in the church. "What the hell is going on!" I didn't turn to look as I heard Tony scream followed by the familiar noise that continued to echo in my ears. What happened next I could hardly remember, men screamed like newborn babes as they ran in every direction, some nearly knocking me over in their haste to make it out of the church. But I could remember exactly how many times I heard that awful sound. When the sound of screaming and rending flesh finally stopped I wondered why I was still standing there, my intestines still coiled within my gut, head still firmly on shoulders and eyes not dangling from their sockets. "Lift your head boy." The crystal clear voice that rang through the blood stained church should have sent my mind and body into a panic. But a bone deep weariness had seeped through every fiber of my being, and even lifting my head took a mammoth level of effort. A man stood in the church's door, he was tall and garbed in a midnight black robe that concealed his body. If not for the blood pooling around his feet I would have thought him to be an angel. His face was sculpted to perfection with high cheekbones, a thin nose, skin the color of marble and square jaw. His snow white hair was tied back making sure not to obscure his devilish looks. But most shocking of all were his eyes, with pupils of a deep red like two rubies. "Do you know why I haven't killed you like the others?" The vampire asked as he walked closer his polished leather boots occasionally peeking out through the long dark red robe concealing his body. I didn't answer, only watched as the monster drew closer and closer until he was only a foot away from me, "I asked you a question human. Do not test my patience." "You were the one who activated the gate," I muttered quietly as it was the only thing I could manage to think. The vampire blinked before smiling revealing his pearly white teeth and the two fangs where his incisors should have been, "Yes, I activated the gate. I was surprised that a mere mortal could recognize the hidden Inscriptions.""Do you know the person who made them?"