Sizzling skin sloughed off, and hair smoked. HOT. There was no other word to describe the blazing swirl of flames that had almost incinerated him. Pushing up from where he laid in the dirt, he dragged himself forward further away from the inferno.
The heat had cooked his brain, making standing difficult. Fire and solid hits to the head would always be a weakness for him, but he managed to regain his equilibrium; getting back on his feet, he turned looking back at the tempest which suddenly shot higher,
the growing intensity making him lurch back further away, covering his eyes to protect from the heat and brightness as he did. He watched on as the pillar of fire rose above the treetops. It was as if hell had opened to swallow him whole, he thought, shielding his eyes. Certainly after everything he'd done it wouldn't be surprising.
It was never my intention or desire for so many to die, but I was still to blame. If I hadn't died, everyone I killed would still be living their lives, laughing, smiling, getting married and having children or doing some other great thing. I've robbed the world of so much joy, not even leaving anyone for there to be misery.
How many? An uncountable number must be waiting for me in the afterlife. Do they blame me, hate me for something that's out of my control? I certainly hate what killed me.
I hate, a simple way of running from something he didn't like to think about. countless times he'd ask himself that question, and never did he settle on any other answer.
What else was left? Sadness, guilt, and above all contempt. Hatred was the only thing that for a small moment burned away at the pain in his soul and gave him reprieve.
The heat struck his body as the torrent flared. At the very least he couldn't feel physical pain, but that may have only served to intensify the pain he felt mentally.
Observing the flames, he realized that breaking through the torrent before it reached its apex had been the correct decision; Had he gone with the plan of diving into the well and burying himself, he would've been petrified by the heat or encased in molten rock.
Destructive magic capable of covering such a wide area at once was insane. If it wasn't then it would have been used on him a long time ago.
Normally any time mages were deployed against him they'd just level the area he was in with a mass of spells rather than one really big one.
Meaning the mage who cast it must either be of rare ability with the power to cast such magic or of exceptional quality boasting know-how for creating such a fearsome spell.
It had to be one or the other, had it been both they'd have come to face me directly with their troops. Most likely it was know-how, as mages are prideful; one with such power would definitely have been somewhere they could show off.
Though the mage in question should certainly be nearby. In all its time fighting, the Azure Eyes had only encountered two creatures it considered a threat.
One it had already killed and the other it had avoided, not knowing what it was. While this mage wasn't a threat combatively they were incredibly dangerous strategically. They would not be suffered to live. He thought as his body repaired itself.
A stabbing sensation tore at his stomach causing him to double over. Hunger, one of the few instances where he felt pain as an undead.
So long as he had something to eat his body could repair itself to a certain extent, but with the myriad of corpses lost to the flames that wouldn't be possible.
The world rolled, his vision going red. Whatever inkling of reason he may still have had was smothered by an insatiable and maddening hunger.
He became feral, bolstered with a burning rage; for what that mage had done was unforgivable, turning those warriors to ash for nothing. Driving him further still was the sharp pain in his gut reminding him of how he died.
With senses sharpened to their absolute peak, he could smell what he wanted through scorched earth and his own burned body, food.
He shambled slowly following the scent towards the far side of the fields that had surrounded the village, towards the forest.
Mages, they were weak and cowardly, the first to run were always mages, the last to die were always mages. Vulnerable without someone to guard them; almost every mage he had killed would be shaking with fear, unable to chant their spells holding fast to their staves in desperation like a vice as hope was torn apart by even more vice-like jaws. He HATED mages.
It was poetic as in the clearing he found the robed bodies of what appeared to be mages. Tearing at the cloth and flesh of the one nearest to him blood spurted staining the white fabric. Intestines, organs, bone. He didn't go after anything specific, even when not in a maddened state he wasn't picky.
It was a haunting sound, skin tearing apart, and bones being snapped out. The feeling of blood under nails, the slimy texture of innards becoming mush in his jaws, warm blood flowing down his throat.
Perhaps this was hell, such a sight couldn't be found anywhere else. Snap his head shot towards the direction of the noise. There was something there, it was small; Breathing heavily it took off into the forest.
"What is that?" A little girl thought as tears welled in her eyes. "That's a monster! It was eating someone!" She wanted to hide to lay down and sleep awaiting her mother how scared she was.
Doing so would mean death so she ran as fast and as hard as those little legs would let her. Through bushes and thickets, too frightened to pay mind to the rough ground which tore her feet.
Death followed biting at her heels. To kill is simply what it does, not always for any particular reason. For food, for entertainment? No, just because it could.
"Someone! Anyone please!" She prayed. Eventually, coming to a clearing those little feet gave out in the ruins of an abandoned manor. The walls made of brick were either collapsed or almost non existent having been recycled for use elsewhere.
Huffing, chest tight, and throat burning. Tears welled in her eyes as the cruelty of the world, as hopelessness set in. "Am I gonna die? I don't want to." Bearing down on her was a scorched undead with singed white hair and burnt skin all over its body. She met its gaze, and tried to get back up before those glowing blue eyes locked her into place in sheer terror.
"Please, no." The young man thought, staring at a frightened platinum haired girl with tears streaming from her eyes. "Please… not. She's just a child." He pleaded desperately. Mercy was not something he possessed. No one was spared, not even children.
How indescribably cruel beyond measure, such an act is. Out of all the murders he'd watched his hands commit it was things like this that he simply couldn't bare.
Please, he asked again, trying to steer his body away from what he was about to do. PLEASE! He screamed internally, as white teeth sunk into the girl's shoulder. She let out a croak, the pain not allowing her to scream.
Before he could tear the girls arm off a voice called out to him. Looking up he saw someone he shouldn't have been able to. Someone who died a long time ago. He retracted his maw looking up, eyes going wide. It was her… Everything went black.
"Goodness me." A woman with glowing blonde hair said with an odd amount of cheer given the situation. "How terribly close that was." She knelt beside his body thinking for a moment; Looking back and forth from the girl who was now laying unconscious to the undead before her.
She needed to very quickly come to a decision. There were many things to consider, and not enough time to fully ponder them.
Finally, she grasped the fire poker that was sticking out from the undeads eye socket, her decision made. "It's a gamble, but I don't have a choice. Time is running out. For everyone."