Manon dropped the arrow as if she had been burned, groaning and trying hard not to absolutely freak out at her current injury. Remy was absolutely useless, head whipping between their assailants and Manon like he wasn't sure if he wanted to book it and leave her or take her with him.
The figures hadn't moved, for so long that it was unsettling. The night air was quiet like it was before- when all sounds stopped. They were waiting for something.
They were too far and it was too dark for the children to make out their appearances. And they clearly were not at all normal. All Manon and Remy could see was the moonlight in the pond, making it possible to see each other and the gazebo only.
"...fuck.."
The second the hiss left Manon's lips, one of the archer assailants drew back his bow.
"Wait- don't!" Remy attempted to tackle Manon to the ground, his form shielding between the small girl and the attackers. But Manon had a checklist. She had an objective to fulfill and she planned to get it done and worry about everything else later.
In one swift movement after the next arrow embedded itself in a pillar behind where she had previously been standing, Manon's palm pushed Remy aside by his face as she bolted to the only pillar that hid her from the archers. Her front was pressed against the vine infested marble as she felt another arrow fly past her other shoulder, almost taking out her shawl altogether with a speed that nearly ruptured her eardrums.
Remy was on the ground propped up on his elbows, face angry as he glared at Manon.
"I'm trying to save you-"
"And I don't give a fuck. Run to the exit or go find Antoni-"
"You should refer to him as his highness-"
"His Antoni- his royal hiney- I don't give a fuck. LEAVE." Manon spat, immediately regretting it as she saw Remy's AP fall off a cliff from 11 down to 5. Her blue eye twitched. "Look- either I possibly die or we both die. Go find his highness and if you can't- leave the orchard. If I succeed in getting the gift box I'll only take one item." She lied. And thankfully, Manon's words had the intended effect, with his AP rising to 11 again. Fickle. Remington was fickle.
If Remy noticed the lie, he didn't say anything, just breathlessly grinned before sitting up.
It was the wrong choice to do so leisurely, as an arrow immediately flew directly at his right eye.
Remy was lucky, as his reflexes allowed him to dodge the arrow to an extent, his back bending backwards so the head only scratched his eyelid. The boy grunted, holding his eye to maintain pressure on the wound. Manon frantically gestured for him to leave immediately after realizing he hadn't lost an eye.
"Perhaps I regret ruining your eyepatch. Apologies." Remy whispered under his breath, chest heaving. He crawled over to the edge of the gazebo, staying behind pillars and low to the ground just enough to not be an easy target. He looked back at the girl, blood speared over his eye when he removed his hand. "I'll be back, Manon. Don't die. I want my gift box." with that, Remy snuck off behind the foliage, only able to go undetected until he sprinted out of the clearing and back onto the west trail.
It took a few seconds but the figures heard him run, and the one in the middle who was seemingly weaponless made a strange- unpleasant sound. It was like crackling and rustling. Not a sound a human nor any animal would be making. It sounded like the tree leaves in the fall, crunchy, often stale. And it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
There was another noise, similar but with a different tone, and it was with some clarity that Manon realized they were communicating. A few heartbeats later, she heard the sound of dragging, heavy footsteps leaving the clearing in the same direction Remy went.
One of them went after him. That meant there were two still here. Based on her idea of their dynamic- probably one of the archers and the ringleader. Manon needed to get to the fruit in the gazebo ceiling first and foremost. Her arm was still buzzing but she couldn't feel the pain at the moment- a resolve she knew she'd come to regret after leaving this place.
With just a moment of pause available for her to proceed, Manon tested the strength of the vines constricting the pillar she stood behind. Instead of testing with her strength, she leaned her body weight against it, fingers clasped around a thicker vine. She didn't need it to be extremely strong- just needed it to support her weight. The vine held up, to which she let out a sharp breath before she swiftly began to climb.
Her arm came into eyesight for the archer- making her yelp as an arrow flew past her, just grazing her skin. The girl didn't stop though, her bare feet scraping against the marble and leaves to climb higher- shoes abandoned on the floor several feet below.
Manon did not climb to the very top, she didn't need to. All she needed was the correct angle. Once she had it- a close enough distance to make a diagonal shot upwards, she muttered under her breath. Her shoes lay on the marble floor of the gazebo, unable to be utilized for what she needed to do. Her mouth stayed closed but she gritted her teeth, knowing that if she moved even a little into view to climb over and grab the fruit by hand, she'd be impaled immediately.
There was a beat of silence where she knew her attackers were waiting for where she would show up next.
With no other option, Manon untied the ribbon bow holding her fur shawl on her shoulders with one hand and her teeth. She grasped it in her hand, hanging onto the slowly loosening vines and waiting for the perfect moment.
It came shortly- the moment she was waiting for.
The….things…they began to communicate again.
This time the sound was louder, more grating against her eardrums like an unavoidable hymn. It didn't matter though- what mattered is that they were on edge waiting for her to appear- and she did.
Manon winded her arm back, her left straining to keep a grip on the vines, and threw her balled up fur shawl out of the gazebo, to the left of the pond. In the same beat, she flung herself like she was a child in a jungle gym, grabbing the thickest vines she could find until she was at the top of the gazebo.
By the time she was swinging herself back and forth in preparation, the entities had discovered her ruse and were not amused- having speared at least 5 arrows into her poor garment.
That was when the other entity- the leader- finally moved. Its large brooding form stomped with a force that shook the surrounding foliage and sent vibrations through the cold marble. She could feel it even through just the vines.
"Shit- Shit.." Manon cursed, watching as the entity became clearer and clearer the closer he came towards the gazebo. He moved with jerky- almost puppet-like movements. But it didn't deter how frightening he was. His skin was a sickly green, with dark thick veins running through his rectangular face and down his neck, even over his exposed chest. He looked like an ogre- a real one- dressed in only worn and torn brown pants that strained against his artificially muscular limbs. Manon knew a roid user when she saw one.
But the most unsettling thing was the long, black, whisker-like needles sticking out of his neck, the way they twitched and wiggled, some even slithering about. Manon wanted to gag. His eyes were a glowing dark red she could now see since she was staring straight at him as he rounded the corner towards where she was, arm poised behind his back as if he were about to brandish a weapon.
And he did.
A claymore the same height as himself, at least 14 inches at its widest part, the hilt covered in what looked like red wisteria.
Manon did not want to see more, she truly didn't.
So she swung, kicking her feet off the pillar one, twice, three times, and then jumped.
Her fingers, caked with the blood from her wound, scraped her nails against the mural ceiling, nearly bending her fingers too far back. They dug into the crack and released the small fruit, causing it to fall to the ground and into one of her shoes.
Manon did not land where she wanted. She was sent towards the railing of the gazebo, the projected outcome being for her torso to make contact. And by her own luck, the zombie entity was just entering a good enough distance to strike her.
The brunette girl's eyes widened mid-air as she heard the claymore before she saw it coming at her. It scraped against the marble, sending sparks flying that singed nearby vines and leaves coating the gazebo floor. In less than a second, the entity swung upwards aiming to slice her in half.
Manon extended her body, arms stretched out and kicking her feet up until her palms landed sturdy against the marble fence railing of the gazebo. The cold stone bit her skin as she looked upside-down at her assailant, braid flailing downwards towards the center of gravity. The claymore blade had missed her by just a hair, her heart thudding in her chest as she narrowly escaped her fate.
A common theme was her not having enough time to stop and take things in. Not in her life. Not in her situation- unless she wanted to die.
Manon immediately flipped back down until her feet met the gazebo floor, one step ahead of the entity as he landed another swing and nearly severed her braid. Her momentum was too frantic and her positioning allowed for her to flip once more, the girl taking the opportunity to snatch up her shoes as she went before landing on her feet for the final time, turning to her left, and booking it.
The soles of her feet were targeted, the sparks from the claymore stinging as she tore her way through the garden towards the west trail, shoes clutched to her chest and she zipped through the wind as fast as her smaller legs could carry her which wasn't far.
A barrage of arrows flew at her, one into her skirt which she had to rip out as she ran. Another whizzed past as she turned her head to look back, seeing two figures hot on her heels moving like literal demonic puppets as they chased her down the west trail.
Her stamina was better than when she had first been brought here, but not good enough. Manon struggled to breathe as she ran, having nowhere to hide, nowhere to run but forward and hope she could keep narrowly dodging the arrows.
It was with a desperation she had only felt once before that she looked down into her flats, seeing the small fruit nestled in the toe of her left shoe, jostling with every step she took. Her bloodied fingers reached into the shoe, nails cramping the leather, searching until they grasped onto it. Ignoring the unsanitary circumstances, exhausted and not even thinking straight- she did the only thing she could think of doing with a tiny grape.
She ate it.