Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Bleakman's Bog Pt. 6

Well, looks like it is Tuesday yet again. I have written a very special installment today. This series will is drawing ever near to the conclusion. I hope you are as excited as I am.

Part 1.
Part 2.
Part 3.
Part 4.
Part 5.
And now part 6.

Bruised and battered Duncan could hardly breath as the mud filled his lungs. Looking up as the blade cut into his throat Dennis was too strong. It was all over. The salvation he so greatly desired would be lost. Salvation would be lost to a bitter pain filled death deep in the bog's bowels. But the blade never cut any deeper. The eyes that were so enraged grew familiar. The knife fell from Dennis' hand into the mud. Dennis stood and walked away. The mists followed him closely and Duncan was alone again. The mists settled as Duncan began to raise himself.

“No! You stupid pathetic worm! Slit his throat and drink his blood!”
The voice echoed around inside his brain. It hurt almost as much as the hunger. As he stumbled through the woods the haze wore off and he felt colder than ever. He took steps and blood began to flow from he throat. He had forgotten. She had cut him open. He had tried to stop her, but he was already dead.
Dennis stopped and stood frozen. He was dead. It was almost too much to fathom. Too much to comprehend. The reality of it wasn't a weight however. It was freeing. He closed his eyes. It was time to sleep. Finally he could sleep.
“I'm not letting you sleep yet! You child, you insignificant blip on the annals of time. No blood golem has ever betrayed me. You will return to me and you will be used like the tool you are. That is your only option!”
He walked towards the hovel of the witch. Sleep would come soon, surely sleep would come soon.

Duncan was trying to stand his ruined leg still refused to work. Bracing with all his strength through the pain of torn muscles he somehow stood. Another chance it was time he ended this. It was time the witch paid for her evils. It was time he released his Anne from the witch's grasp.
His horse was long gone. He hobbled to where ever. Somehow he knew he'd find the hovel. Somehow he knew it would end tonight. Perhaps fate had taken over now. He did not care. He was ready to die. He knew he should have died so long ago.

Sitting in her chair the witch watched as the pieces all came together. The golem was returning and the husband was as well. Soon the new chapter would begin. Her plans were coming out perfectly. In the corner a chain skittered on the floor. Anne looked down on the child, the child she had bore into this world.

Duncan was heavy. It took all of her strength to put him on the horse. The witch screamed in the back of her head. The witch wanted control, Anne would not allow it not now. Duncan's torn leg was still bleeding, but maybe if he made it to town he would live. Maybe if he lived he could come back and save her.

“Save me, my dear. Please, please return. Save me.” Anne fell to her knees as the horse ran away towards town.
The witch stood up using Anne's body.
“Oh, my dear sweet Anne. You will pay for this. He was very important. He was immeasurably important. I'm afraid your sweet daughter will have to pay the price however.”
Going back into the house Hanna lay on the floor dead. The witch used Anne's hands to draw a circle to write the symbols to say the words. Hanna rose from the floor a shade.
“My beautiful golem. Please if you will go fetch me a tasty little morsel much like yourself.”
As the witch spoke the words Hanna's eyes turned black and then the blackness spread across her skin. A shadow she became and going through walls and woods she took the first child from the village. The first child of many.

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