i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell
The end was near.
He could feel it in his bone marrow and the depths of his soul. It was both frightening and comforting, to know that this journey was almost over. Three times they had fought; three times they had won. Surely their luck was running in short supply by now. They had beaten Conquest and War and all of their foul beasts. Battered and bruised, yes…but alive. Because of their sacrifice Beqanna was still safe.
To his right and left three mares disappeared, including the mare who had so willingly given herself over to Conquest. He had come to see them all as friends, though he didn’t even know their names. All around them the sky flickered, and more than once he thought he caught a glimpse of the Chamber. He could see mountain ridges and looming pines, and despite the hunger tearing at his belly his heart swelled with hope. Famine stared at them, clearly enjoyed their plight. He could and he would wait them out, wait until their ribs sprang through their skin and their eyes dried in the sockets. Warship himself panted, his stomach drawn up tight to his flanks as his eyes rolled listlessly in their sockets. It took too much effort to focus them and he had little extra effort to spare. He can barely bring himself to close his eyes when the final seal explodes. The shrapnel showers against his face but he does not flinch; the clenching hunger in his stomach had surpassed all else. Sustenance was the only thought in his mind, and even the bizarre thought of horseflesh made his mouth water uncontrollably. Before he could act upon his bizarre and frightening impulse though, he was given an order.
“Run…”
Famines voice did not waiver; the command was very clear. But how could he, Warship, possibly run? He had ran so far, pushed his body far beyond what it was capable of giving. The order was clear though, and who was he to argue? His life had been about following orders and he couldn’t readily toss that habit to the side. Instead he nodded, slowly, his eyes closed. “Run. Yes. Do as he says. Run. Don’t stop.” he said slowly as he allowed his eyes to fall on each of his comrades in turn. He knew most that this was the end for all of them, and he hated that he had no other words to tell them how he felt. However, he hoped that they could hear it in his voice, hear all the unspoken things hiding between his clipped words. They were friends, after all, and he couldn’t bear to tell them goodbye. Goodbye meant the end after all.
He ran. He pushed himself beyond the scope of all that was possible and felt his muscles scream in protest. He had asked so much of his body and now begged it for more. Sweat streamed down his neck and shoulders. The old wounds on his body were soon broken open and the sting of salt to flayed flesh reminded him he was alive. There were all manners of snarls and growls behind him but he ignored them for now, his only goal being the seals and hopefully survival. Another hellhound stepped from the brush and snarled at him but he did not stop; there was no time. The beast snapped at his heels as he flew past but he barely felt the skin break; he had been through so much worse during this ordeal. It was something like running a gauntlet; on either side of his chosen path the beasts lurked, their hisses and growls a chant heralding his death. War and Conquest stood among them and their jeering was by far the worst. Conquest was quiet and smiled eerily, but War had his red eyes trained on him like a lion might view his next meal. With a smile to match Conquest’s he stepped from the legion of beasts and directly into Warships path. Warship slowed to a halt, knowing full well he could not survive another physical battle with the red-eyed beast. “He’ll get you boy…he’ll lay waste to you, and when he does I’ll spit on your still-warm corpse.” War spat, a sickening laugh lilting his voice upwards. Warship glared back at him, allowing all the hate within his body to rise into his eyes and shine towards War. “No. That won’t happen. We will succeed, and you’ll all be sent back to hell where you came from. Fuck you.” His voice was level and smooth despite the anger and fright flowing toxic through his veins. It was a fools attempt to make himself feel better, and it worked to an extent. War and Conquest threw their heads in the air and laughed, and it was their laughter that brought him skidding back into reality. He was on a death march and they were just here to witness the spectacle.
As he left the gauntlet behind, Beqanna showed through clearer than ever before. Flash. The meadow. Flash. The jungle. Flash. The chamber and her foggy mountain peaks. He slowed for a moment to catch his breath, and as the chamber flashed once more he spotted a piece of the seal impaled into a tree. He glanced around before stepping towards it and clamped his teeth onto the stone. Unsurprisingly he did not have to pull, but rather the stone absorbed into his teeth and tongue as he had known it would do. Through it all he had missed the blue glow that hovered in the forest next to him. So keen had he been on this small victory that he had forgotten the rules of purgatory. If it seemed to easy then it probably was.
Death stepped from around the trees and Warship froze, his breath momentarily caught in his throat. For a moment he thought about running but soon gave that up as a fools errand. He had outrun Death once before, he would not be able to do so again. Judging by the smile on Deaths face, he knew it too. “We finally meet, Warship. I’ve been expecting you.” Death said, his voice smooth as silk. Warship knew better than to contradict, so instead he remained silent. His mind was whirring but there was no good solution he could come to. “No one will know your name after this.” mused Death as he walked in slow circles around him like a shark circling his bleeding and flailing prey. “Maybe not. But they’ll remember that a group of us stopped you and your brothers from reaching the real world. They will remember how you all tried and you all failed because of us.” said Warship, fearing tainting his mind and making him reckless. He knew he shouldn’t taunt Death but he couldn’t help himself. Death stopped, sniffing the air like a lion might scent the wounded zebra in the herd. Finally he smiled his sickly smile and his blue eyes flashed dangerously. “That may be so…but you’ll be here with us too. Welcome home, Warship.” And with that Death leapt forward, his muzzle brushing Warships jaw in a soft, almost tender way. He had no time to object or defend himself. There was no pain from Deaths touch, and it felt not dissimilar to a piece of snow touching his jaw. The world disappeared around him and was replaced with a blissful weightlessness that could only be death.
The end was here.
warship
