Arthur and Wendell stared, their legs quaking as those they stood on wooden stilts. They watched as claws reach out from the abyss, grabbing the contour of the eclipse. Never before had Arthur imagined such a sight, which was also a surprise for Wendell, considering that it was his first time witnessing such a sight.
"What do we do?" Arthur asked, watching as some creatures that crawled out had heads that split open as they screeched, like a Venus flytrap, revealing fangs sharp enough to cut through the fabric of reality. "Where do we—"
"Shut up, boy!" Wendell yelled, watching the countless creatures pour out of the darkness into their world, plummeting to the ground and rooftops far away, shoving Arthur out of the way and heading back inside as he added:
"There's no we in this mess, ya got that?"
Arthur stared at him with a jaw hung loose, switching his gaze between the Black Sun that connected the tapestry of the abyss to the tapestry of man, back to the old man as he said:
"But Mister Wendell, you have a weapon! Surely you can do something?"
"Whaddya take me fer?" Wendell retorted, looking back as he stared at Arthur with trembling eyes. "Ya think I'll just stroll along and clean up this mess?"
He kicked the scythe away, letting it slide towards Arthur.
Arthur stared at it for a few moments, his palms grew sweaty, his breaths grew ragged, and his heart pounded, reverberating through his body. He didn't know what to do. Whatever the scourge was, he was certain this was it. But no matter how certain he was, he couldn't help but simply stand in place, too scared to move.
"I took that loan for a way outta 'ere!" Wendell continued as he angrily shook his head. "Now I'll ne'er get out of this God forsaken—"
"Mister Wendell! Behind you!" Arthur interrupted, pointing to the other side of the bridge.
Frozen in place, Wendell slowly turned his gaze back to see a head shaped much like the human thalamus hanging upside down, attached to a neck as thin as a blade of grass. It split open, right down the centre, baring its drooling fangs.
Wendell tried to move out of the way, but unfortunately for him, it was already too late. He could only watch as the black claw of the hideous eldritch creature pierced right through his torso, skewering him on the spot.
Arthur watched as the eldritch creature raised Wendell to its head. He felt as though he was losing a grip on his breath, while his knees grew weak, and his chest burned. His heart now pulsed in his ears and throat as he watched Wendell's corpse disappear with a blindingly fast bite. Blood and viscera splattered everywhere, and the crunching of bones sent shivers down his spine, causing him to feel nauseated.
But now was not the time to lay back and simply die. Instinctively, he grabbed Wendell's scythe, getting a good grip on its rough and scratched, metal snath, watching the beast drop to the ground, compressing itself as it landed into a ball before standing tall in all its might.
It stretched its arms wide and stood on two legs, raising its head and colliding it with the great bridge, which was immediately destroyed upon impact with the otherworldly flesh.
Arthur covered his face as the debris flew everywhere, barely managing to dodge a swipe at his head as he fell on his back.
Immediately afterward, a claw made its way to pierce his chest. He rolled out of the way just in the nick of time to feel the wind pass by.
Without hesitation, he lifted the scythe and stabbed it into the massive hand just next to him, getting flung into the air along with his scythe as the beast screeched in pain and held its hand.
Now that he was in the air, able to see the top of the great bridge and the countless rooftops of houses in the simulated night sky, he had a new problem as he looked back down.
The otherworldly beast sat in place, waiting patiently with an open mouth, as though a mother bird had just arrived to feed its young.
With not much to think about and a body that acted out of instinct, Arthur raised the scythe above his head, feeling the adrenaline course through his veins as he knew he had only one shot at survival.
Without hesitation, he threw the scythe down, watching as it twirled rapidly. Each revolution brought with it the whistling of wind, before disappearing into the creature's bite. At last, he had a comparatively safe way of getting back on the ground.
That was, unfortunately, difficult for one not trained to fight such creatures, however. He lost his balance upon landing on the creature's completely still and closed head, plummeting to the ground.
Although his fall wasn't from as great of a height anymore, the impact still was quite painful, leaving him in a daze as he searched for the creature through his blurred vision, surprised to have not been attacked immediately afterward.
Several seconds passed by of him closing his eyes, giving up on trying to see. Save for the sounds of flowing water and more screeches further out of Erthyl resonating in his ears, not a single sound occupied the silence.
Once he felt his head stop spinning, he opened his eyes to find the same creature—which he could have sworn he just fought—standing perfectly still, much like the now ruined statues all around him.
'Is... is it dead?' he asked himself, slowly standing up against the surge of pain all across his body from the fall he suffered. 'But how? I didn't do anything...'
He looked behind its head, finally getting a good side profile of the creature, taking notice of the thin and long neck, with the scythe perfectly splitting it open. Whether that was a fluke or not, he was quite impressed with himself, staring with raised brows as his lips curled up.
Startled by the loud screeches of monsters and the echoing howls of people off in the distance, Arthur reminded himself that there was no time to simply stand by idly, and that he had to make it back to Sir Bertrand at once and inform him of what happened.
He started walking, turning his body as though his vision was locked onto the eldritch beast's head, wary of any slight movement it could suddenly take until he made it past its reach, sprinting with no intention of looking back.
As he ran, he noticed that the once populated streets were now deserted, as though no body had ever lived here to begin with. It haunted him, for he feared the possibility of everyone having already been devoured. Even if he was left alive, for now, he didn't want to be alone. He was afraid of being alone.
The adrenaline that kept him running at his full potential slowly wore off as he kept an eye out for anything that moved. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, no one was in sight.
It wasn't until he returned to the demesne that he heard his name called by Sir Bertrand's voice. He looked off to the shore, behind the manor, and found the company just about finishing up with loading everything onto a viking-style vessel.
He quickly ran over to the edge of the docks and yelled:
"Lord Bertrand, wait! I was unable to bring forth the coinage thou wert expecting! Beset we were by monsters, of the like, never hath I seen!"
"Thou hast failed to procure the coinage?" Sir Bertrand repeated, his voice raising a tone along with his brow, shaking his head as he grinned, while the other men paddled. "My oh my, dear Arthur, whatever shall we do?"
"Please! Lord Bertrand!" Arthur yelled, panting heavily as he held his knees, weaving his words between his breaths. He felt as though he were on the verge of tears, listening to the ripple of water with each heave the men exerted. "Allow me to board the vessel!"
"Board the vessel? What could prompt me to return this great distance?" the nobleman asked in a plummy voice, a stark contrast from his usually raucous voice.
"What could?" Arthur repeated, finally losing his patience as he drew his brows together and squinted with clenched jaws. "Lord Bertrand, I've done all in my power to serve thee! Pray tell, why wouldst thou forsake me at the onset of the scourge?"
Without sparing him even a second to think, Sir Bertrand laughed before saying:
"Thy labour was but a meager chore, one any could carry out. Fear not, young man. I ensure that we shall find a replacement for thee with haste!"
Arthur refused to believe his ears. Was it really true? Was he just going to be abandoned like this? With not a single shred of morality to make them question their choice?
Oddly enough, he found his trembling body easing itself, as his heart rate returned to a normal state, though his mind was on fire. He watched the vessel vanished into the horizon, as what little left of daylight slowly, but surely, returned while the laughs of men disappeared into the distance as well.
With a mixture of rage, confusion, and fear, he ran back to the streets in search of anyone to help him, though his search would seem futile as not even the poor remained.