It's been over four years since I first took on the guise of a doctor in this endless war. My role in the army had become routine - a respected healer in the ranks, always there when the soldiers needed me, patching them up, keeping them alive just long enough to send them back into battle. But beneath this facade, I continued my true work: alchemical transmutation experiments, slowly and methodically perfecting my craft.
The chimera that had once been my greatest achievement now stood in the corner of my tent like a mangled relic. It had stood for over a year, feeding on carrion, what was left over from my experiments, but it showed no signs of improvement or evolution.
I continued to feed it, now mostly out of curiosity, wondering how long it would last. It was a testament to the unpredictable nature of alchemy that defied logic, but did little in the way of progress.
The war, too, has stalled. Since I arrived, neither side has made significant gains. Day after day, battle after battle, we had shed the blood of soldiers, but there had been no victory. It was now a war of attrition, and by my calculations, it would not last long. The city-state of Erimor, where I served, was on the verge of collapse. Resources were running low, both human and material. The faces of the soldiers were becoming increasingly haggard, their wounds deeper and healing slower as they ran out of medical supplies.
It became clear that Erimor would not be able to continue this war much longer. Soon there would be no weapons left to fight, no food to feed the army, and no medicine to heal the wounded. The city-state was nearing its end, and its fall under the onslaught of enemies was only a matter of time.
The chaos of war had provided me with a steady supply of bodies, both living and dead, to work with. But now that the war was drawing to a close, I knew I would have to look for new opportunities to continue my research. The thought of leaving this place, moving to another city-state or even another battlefield, crossed my mind more and more often.
A couple more years passed, and the fort where I had spent five long years was swallowed by the waves of war. The enemy had taken it over, and the once indestructible bastion that was Fort Asharn had become nothing more than a memory. Now I stood in the city itself, the heart of the once mighty city-state of Erimor, and its walls, now worn and crumbling, were all that stood between the besieging army and the city's inevitable fall.
Erimor, once full of energy from soldiers and citizens alike, had become a semblance of the former city. Most of the population had long ago fled, seeking safety in distant lands, away from the endless conflict. Even most of the army had deserted, their morale sapped by constant defeats and dwindling resources. Only a few soldiers remained, either too stubborn or too scared to leave. The army had become scattered groups of desperate men who held their posts because they had nowhere else to go.
The few who remained were filled with humility and grim determination. They knew the end was near, but they chose to fight, if only to delay the inevitable. Their faces were stamped with fatigue, and their eyes were sunken from sleepless nights spent gazing at the enemy camps beyond the walls. Food supplies were running low and rations were meager. Weapons were dull and in short supply. Nevertheless, they held their ground, not out of hope, but out of a sense of duty to the ruins they called home.
The last remnants of the Erimor leadership had gathered in the center of the city. The head of state, a man once full of ambition and arrogance, now sat quietly in his palace. He had once dreamed of conquest and glory, of uniting city-states under his banner, but now those dreams were dead. The war had broken him, turning him into a shadow of the man he used to be. His thoughts were no longer of victory, but of survival - of how long the city could hold out before he too had to flee. He was no longer giving pep talks or rallying troops. His silence was a clear indication that the fall of Erimor was inevitable, and he knew it.
For me, the impending fall of the city presented a unique opportunity. I had no attachment to Erimor, no loyalty to its rulers or people. I stayed here not because of some false sense of patriotism, but because the chaos of war provided the perfect conditions for my experiments. Over the past few years, I have refined my knowledge of alchemy, developing various alchemical circles in my quest to create the red stone. I have secretly drawn these circles - some in abandoned buildings, others on city walls, and even a few in the deepest alleys of the slums. Each circle represented a different variation, a different experiment, and they all led to the same goal: the creation of red stone.
I was obsessed with the idea. The red stone was no longer just a gimmick; it was the key to everything. If I could replicate its power, I could achieve unimaginable results. My previous experiments had failed, but failure only pushed me further. Now, with the city teetering on the brink of destruction, I realized that this was the perfect moment to test my theories. The fall of Erimor would create the perfect chaos to mask my experiments, and the lives lost in the final battle would fuel my alchemical work.
Standing on the edge of the city walls and watching the enemy forces gather outside, I could feel the tension in the air. The soldiers around me were silent, resigned to their fate. I could hear them whispering, wondering how long the walls would hold and if help would come. But deep down, they knew there would be no reinforcements or last-minute rescue. The city was doomed.
I shifted my gaze to the horizon where enemy forces were beginning to mobilize. A storm was coming. Soon the final assault would begin, and Erimor would fall.
I had spent months preparing for this moment, carefully choosing the locations for each circle. Some were small and hidden, designed for small transformations, while others were massive, covering entire sections of the city's infrastructure. I tested every variable, every possibility, hoping to find the perfect configuration to create the red stone.
As the storm of war loomed on the horizon, I felt a strange calmness sweep over me. Unlike the soldiers, unlike the ruler of this doomed city, I felt no fear. This was the culmination of years of work for me, and if the fall of Erimor would give me the answers I sought, then so be it.
"I'll have to sacrifice you all, for the glory of Alchemy," I pondered, almost amused by the thought.
The people, the soldiers, even the city itself-none of it mattered in the overall scheme of things. What mattered was the knowledge I would gain, and the power that awaited me. As the first enemy siege cannon fired on the city, I took a deep breath and turned my back to the walls. I had a lot of work to do. The fall of Erimor would mark the beginning of a new chapter in my research.
***
POV: STORMING SOLADT.
***
Erimor, once a symbol of power and prosperity, was now on its last breath, a crumbling giant ready to fall. As we moved behind the siege towers, the city walls, once high and impregnable, were now cracked and crumbling. The siege weapons - trebuchets, catapults and ballistae - had done their job well, creating gaps in several places along the walls.
The gates were reduced to splinters, shattered by the merciless blows of our battering ram. The Eremor soldiers on the walls trembled, their defenses crumbling under the onslaught. As we climbed the ladders, we heard the indiscriminate clang of swords and shields and saw the desperate defenders defeated.
"Today is the decisive day, boys!" - shouted one of the men of my squad, his voice barely audible over the noise of war. - Erimor will fall at sunset, mark my words!
I didn't doubt it. The once mighty city lay in ruins. Its streets were drenched in the blood of its defenders. The militia was nothing more than an unorganized rabble of farmers, old men and boys, barely able to lift a sword. We cut through them like wheat at harvest time. They hardly fought back. The real soldiers, what was left of them, were all on the walls, holding back our main force as best they could.
We moved deeper into the city, passing the outskirts of the neighborhoods and going deeper into the slums. The buildings here were little more than shanties, narrow alleys filled with the stench of poverty and despair. But the slums were mostly deserted, save for a few stray dogs and the occasional marauder. It seemed that even the poorest had fled, abandoning the shacks they had once called home. A few militia tried to resist, but what could a bunch of unorganized and inexperienced packs do.
"There aren't many defenders on this side," one of my comrades muttered, kicking away a broken shield with his foot as we walked down the winding alley. "Seems like it's too easy."
"Doesn't matter," I replied, keeping my eyes on the distant towers in the center of the city. - Let the main forces deal with the walls. We're here to clear the city of rabble and head into the heart of this rotting city.
We moved quickly through the slums, meeting little resistance. Every now and then we ran into small militia units, but they died as easily as the rest of us. Some begged for their lives, offering gold, trinkets, whatever they had. But there was no mercy today. The orders were clear - no survivors were to be left behind. This city was to be wiped off the face of the earth and its inhabitants slaughtered. We came here not just to conquer, but to destroy.
As we rounded the corner, we saw a simple structure that must have been a temporary infirmary. The bodies of wounded soldiers were scattered on the ground, some of them still alive but barely conscious. The stench of blood, excretions, and death was unbearable.
"They left their own to die," one of my comrades said with obvious disgust in his voice as he kicked a stack of bloody bandages.
"What did you expect? They're desperate," I replied, stepping over a dying soldier whose eyes were glazed over in pain. "This city is finished. They know it."
Шум битвы становился все громче, слышался лязг стали, крики умирающих и the constant rumble of our siege machines forcing the city to surrender. As we moved, I couldn't help but notice something strange. Here and there on the walls and streets were engraved strange symbols inside a circle.
"What the hell is that?" - One of the men asked, squatting down to examine a particularly large circle engraved inside the temporary infirmary. His hand ran over the strange symbols, his face reflecting confusion and alarm. The rest of us gathered around, silently scrutinizing the signs, and none of us knew what to make of them.
"Maybe some kind of ritual?" - someone suggested, but I found the answer unconvincing. We were simple soldiers, not scholars, and whatever these symbols meant was far beyond our comprehension. The intricate patterns seemed almost alive; they were woven into the stone itself, glowing faintly in the dim light coming through the infirmary windows.
"Forget about it. We have work to do," I said in a firm voice, though even I felt uneasy looking at the signs.
But then a sound reached our ears - quiet at first, almost elusive. A low, wet, slurping sound, as if someone was eating meat. It wasn't the usual sound of someone eating. No, it was something else. There was something unusual and wild, almost animalistic about it, as if whoever was eating was doing so with unquenchable hunger. The air itself seemed to thicken with the noise, and every slurp sent a chill down my spine.
"Do you hear that?" - one of the soldiers asked in a quiet voice, as if he didn't want to attract the attention of whoever was making the noise.
The sound intensified as we approached the far end of the infirmary. With each step, the wet, tearing sound grew louder, more frenetic, more insatiable. There was a rhythm to it, a pause after each nauseating bite, followed by a loud gulp, then the chugging again. Then we were struck by the smell - a disgusting mixture of rot and blood, so thick that some of the men became nauseous. It was the unmistakable odor of death, but there was something else behind it, something so unnatural.
We went to the door of one of the remote rooms. The air seemed different here, heavier, almost stifling. The door creaked open under the push of one of the men, revealing a darkened room. Inside, a sight akin to a nightmare awaited us.
There, huddled in a corner of the room, was a creature-though to call it a creature would be too generous. It was more like a pile of wiry, twisted meat, fused together in a way that defied nature. Its body, if it could even be called that, was a horrifying mass of muscle and flesh, bulging where it shouldn't have been, with limbs that seemed human in some parts and horribly deformed in others.
The most intimidating part of its body was its mouth - three times the size of any human's, stretched over something remotely resembling a face and studded with sharp teeth. It gnawed into the corpses left in the room, chewing the flesh with savage intensity. Its elongated limbs, some human-like, others animal-like, twitched as it ate, its movements sharp and unnatural, like a marionette controlled by invisible strings.
The sound we heard - the slurping, wet sound of flesh being torn apart - came from the creature. Blood dripped from its huge mouth as it devoured the remains of the fallen, bones crunching between its teeth with a distinct crunch. Its eyes, or what was left of them, were deeply sunken into its deformed skull, empty and devoid of any emotion or life. And yet it was very much alive and moved with terrifying, slow precision.
For a while, neither of us uttered a word. The horror of what we saw seemed to paralyze the group.
- What in the name of all that is holy..... - finally whispered one of the soldiers, his voice barely audible, fear in every word.
The creature stopped eating and turned its shapeless head toward us. The low, guttural growl that erupted from its body was enough to make my blood run cold.
- Back away... slowly," I hissed, taking a step back, my heart pounding frantically in my chest.
We started to retreat, but the creature didn't follow us. It just went back to its horrible feast, gnawing into bodies with renewed vigor, as if our presence meant nothing to it.
"What... what... what was that creature?" - Someone asked in a trembling voice once we had moved a safe distance away.
- 'I don't know,' I said, the words stuck in my throat. - But whatever it was... it wasn't supposed to exist in this God-made world.
The thought of staying in this damn place even a second longer was unbearable.
- We have to get out of here! - One of them insisted, his voice barely concealing the horror in his words.
The others nodded, their faces pale and their eyes wide with panic. A thick odor of blood and decay hung in the air, making their stomachs churn with every breath. But to leave, they had to go through a large circle etched into the floor.
The blood from the room where the creature had fed had seeped into the corridor, and with each desperate step the soldiers unknowingly left a trail of blood on the circle, their boots leaving crimson prints in intricate patterns.
Suddenly the circle beneath them glowed-a blinding, eerie glow filled the room.
- What the hell is that? - whispered one of them, but his words were drowned out by the sudden crackle of energy.
A low, ominous hum filled the air, and before they could react, the ground beneath them began to shake. The circle pulsed with life, its symbols glowing brighter, and the air around them thickened with an otherworldly force. Those standing in the circle felt a rush of heat as if fire was creeping up their legs, and their faces contorted in horror as pain shot through them.
"Get out of the circle!" - shouted one of the soldiers, but it was too late.
The energy trapped them, pinning them in place. They tried to move, to escape, but their bodies wouldn't obey. The pain was becoming unbearable, as if their very flesh was being torn from the inside out.
"Oh God, no! No!" - screamed one of the soldiers, his voice breaking in pain, and his limbs began to bend unnaturally. His skin bubbled, stretching and tearing as the muscles fused with the flesh of the man beside him.
The sounds that followed were - horrible cries of pain and despair as their bodies fused together, bones breaking, skin tearing, muscles fusing and twisting beyond recognition. Limbs fused, heads contorted, torsos stretched into new semblances of some form as their bodies joined together in a horrific alchemical transformation. The nauseating squelch of joining flesh filled the air, drowning out their pitiful screams.
- Help us! Please! - screamed another, his eyes widened with horror as he held out his hands to those not in the circle. His hand, half melted, melted into the hand of another soldier standing next to him.
The men watching from outside the circle froze in place, horror frozen on their faces. They slowly backed away, too afraid to come closer, too afraid to help. One of them fell to his knees, muttering prayers to himself.
"God... God save us... - he whispered, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he watched his comrades squirm in agony, their voices turning into desperate, gurgling pleas for mercy.
But God was not here.
The screams continued as the crowd of soldiers in the circle turned into one horrible creature-a hideous, squirming pile of human parts glued together in a way that defied nature. Limbs protruded from the most inappropriate places, some heads had been turned into the flesh of others, eyes protruded from what was left of their faces. The creature's huge mouth stretched grotesquely across its shapeshifting form, a hideous maw full of sharp teeth from which thick blood flowed.
The soldiers watching the transformation were stunned, their hearts pounding frantically in their chests, their mouths dry with fear. They couldn't understand what had just happened, their minds shaken by the horror they had witnessed. They whispered their desperate prayers, their voices trembling as they clutched their weapons tightly, but no amount of faith could change what they saw.
The monstrous creature, transformed into the likeness of their fallen comrades, let out a deep, guttural roar, a sound that made the walls of the infirmary shudder. It was writhing on the ground, its shapeless limbs twitching, mouths grasping for air, eyes rolled back in horror.
None of them dared approach.
"We need to get out of here... now!" - shouted one soldier in a broken voice.
The soldiers froze in place, their hearts pounding frantically in their chests as they realized the horror of their situation. There was no way out. In front of them was a newly transformed, mass of flesh and limbs that had once been their comrades and was screaming with an unnatural, monstrous fury. Behind them, a creature emerged from its room, crawling on twisted, shapeless arms. Its howl was a haunting, guttural sound, warning its rival.
It had no legs; its body was a shapeless lump of muscle and sinew that moved forward like some nightmarish predator. Blood from a recent feast dripped from its huge mouth, teeth bared as it growled menacingly at the transformed creature.
The soldiers found themselves sandwiched between the two monsters, their minds paralyzed with terror.
"We're dead... We're all dead," one of the soldiers muttered in a voice muffled with despair.
The creature behind them lunged forward, moving surprisingly fast for a creature without legs, its large arms dragging it across the blood-soaked floor. It let out a deafening roar, as if asserting its dominance in this space. The new creature - now fully formed, with seven unevenly spaced limbs - responded with an equally loud screech, clearly recognizing the threat.
Some gripped their weapons tightly, though deep down they knew it was useless.
"Run!" - shouted one of them, but before they could take a step, the seven-legged monster moved from its place. It rushed at them, moving with frightening speed. The sound of its many feet hitting the floor made the room shake. Without hesitation, it crashed into the group of soldiers, tearing them like paper. One soldier in its path let out a chilling scream as it was pierced by one of the creature's protruding limbs slicing the soldier's torso in two. Blood spurted from his chest and his body collapsed, torn in half in a brutal show of force.
The rest of the soldiers tried to scatter, but there was nowhere to run. The creature behind them rushed to attack, pulling one of the stragglers back with its massive, claw-like hands. The soldier scrambled in its grip, screaming as it fell him to the ground, his body wriggling unnaturally. The creature's jaws opened wide, teeth gnashing as it sank into his flesh. The sickening sound of tearing muscle and bone filled the air as the man's screams turned into gurgling sobs, choking on blood.
The two creatures clashed, the seven-legged beast struck the crawling creature with its limbs, trying to tear it apart. The crawling creature struck back, swinging its powerful paws and striking such a blow that the seven-legged abomination recoiled backwards.
The soldiers, now helpless spectators, watched in horror as the battle unfolded. One soldier, unable to bear the sight any longer, crawled backward, hoping to slip past the carnage unnoticed. But the seven-legged creature's attention turned to him. It leaped, instantly closing the distance. Its maw opened wide, and the soldier barely had time to cry out before it closed in on his head. Blood splattered on the floor as it tossed the body aside like a rag doll.
The creeping creature howled with rage, apparently furious at the killing of the seven-legged man. It lunged forward again, sank its teeth into one of the seven legs, and tore it apart. Flesh and tendons were torn away, and black blood flowed from the wound. But the new creature seemed to feel no pain - it simply pounced again, one of its many limbs slamming into the crawling creature's body, tearing out chunks of meat and bone with each blow.
The two hideous creatures, both covered in the blood of fallen soldiers, fought furiously, trying to overpower each other. The crawling creature was slower, but its powerful paws delivered heavy blows, breaking bones and tearing flesh. But the seven-legged beast was faster and more agile, and it used its many limbs to strike its opponent time after time. With one last terrible cry, the seven-legged creature leaped at the crawling beast, sank its huge maw into its neck, and ripped off some semblance of its head.
The crawling creature's body twitched, then fell silent. The victor, blood dripping from its jaws, let out a triumphant roar before returning to the corpses of the soldiers. One by one it began to eat without hesitation, devouring their remains and the abandoned soldiers in this infirmary. After the battle, the once-vibrant infirmary had become a veritable slaughterhouse - a graveyard of dismembered bodies and the crouched body of a nightmarish creature, each more horrific than the last.
The soldier ran through the narrow, winding alleys of the slums, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding frantically in his chest. His armor was stained with blood, but it wasn't his blood - at least not yet. The images of these creatures, and the terrifying sounds, kept him awake. He moved his feet instinctively, desperate to escape the nightmare he'd barely survived.
As he turned the corner, exhausted, he suddenly saw a man standing quietly in the shadows. The man was tall, dressed in dark simple clothes, but something about him was off. He stood too still, too collected, as if waiting for something. His face was unremarkable and pale, almost serene, and his eyes glittered unnaturally in the dim light, though they were two round spots of darkness.
"What's wrong?" - The man asked in a low and calm voice. - 'Where are you running to in such a panic?
The soldier could barely get the words out. "Monsters... the infirmary... they... they...!" - He bent in half, trying to catch his breath, frantically thinking of how to explain the horror he had witnessed. He couldn't stop wondering why this man was here, in this slum that was supposed to be cleared by the army. He just wanted to forget what he had seen.
The man smiled a warm, almost kind smile that seemed out of place amidst the carnage the soldier had just escaped. - Calm down," the man said softly. - You've been through a lot, haven't you?
The soldier tried to speak, but the words sounded like a panicked stutter. 'They... they ate them... circle....the blood..." His voice shook, but the man simply nodded, as if he understood perfectly.
Then, without warning, the man muttered something to himself - too quietly for the soldier to hear - and in an instant the soldier's arm was pierced with pain. He cried out in pain and looked down to see that his left arm had been severed at the wrist. Blood gushed from the stump. The soldier stared incredulously at the man who now held a sword, fresh blood dripping from the blade.
- What... why? - The soldier exhaled, grabbing his bleeding hand.
The man swung again, and the soldier instinctively raised his other arm to defend himself. The blade split his right arm as easily as his left. The soldier collapsed to his knees, his screams echoing through the alley. The world around him blurred, but through the shroud of pain he could still see the man's face. Still the same gentle, intimidating smile.
The man put his sword away in its scabbard and knelt down, grabbing the soldier by the hair. The soldier whimpered and sobbed, trying to beg for mercy, but the words wouldn't come from his tongue. The man's strength was inhuman; he effortlessly dragged the soldier back down the alleyway, to the very place he was so desperately trying to escape from.
The closer they got, the more the soldier's terror grew. - Please... no. spare me... - he moaned in a weak and trembling voice.
They reached the breach in the infirmary wall, and out of the corner of his eye the soldier saw it-a seven-legged creature, still hiding, still feeding on the remains of the soldiers it had killed. As the man approached, it let out a low, murmuring growl, but made no attempt to attack. In fact, it seemed to stare at him with a strange mixture of understanding and fear, as if it recognized him.
The man looked at the creature, and for the first time his expression changed slightly. - Ah, so it didn't survive," he muttered, almost to himself. - My experiment. Six years I fed it... and now it meets its end in the belly of this new chimera.
He looked down at the soldier with cold, indifferent eyes. I wonder how much longer this will last?
With a sudden, almost playful movement, the man tossed the soldier toward the chimera, and his limp body collapsed to the blood-soaked ground. The soldier tried to crawl away, but his strength deserted him. His mangled arms were useless.
The chimeras - his former comrades - the figure moved with terrifying speed. The soldier let out one last desperate cry, but it was drowned out by the wet crunch with which the creature's jaws closed around his body. His vision blurred and he was plunged into darkness, but not before he saw the man standing there watching him with the same satisfied smile.
- 'Eat,' the man said quietly, his voice calm and almost soothing. - I'm going to need you again.
The soldier's last thought as the chimera devoured him was that there was no way this man - no, this creature - could be human.
And then, in the silence of the ruined city, nothing could be heard but the cracking of bones and tearing flesh. The city of Erimor had fallen, and with it the remnants of sanity of those unlucky enough to survive the day.