Chapter 8:

Death of The Marked

The Reaper of Carnage


Saga appeared at the window sill, the glass shards digging into his feet as he sat on his knees, staring at John, wearing a wicked smile. His bow and arrow on the ground below, he would not need it here.

Emilia stared at the strange man, the silhouette no longer disguising him, she could see his clothes in rags and the impossible amount of blood splattered across them. His eyes remained the same radiant blue madness she saw before. Those eyes, they’re beautiful. She couldn’t help but wonder about how he got such beautiful eyes, oblivious to the situation at hand.

John now stopped again in his tracks, he began whimpering and crying as he lost the strength to hold Emilia any further, dropping her down as his legs started to shake. Saga hopped down from the window sill, and walked towards the whimpering man, crushing the glass with his feet, his footprints covered in blood.

John could feel the aura, the blood lust smothering his senses, each of Saga’s footsteps brought an even greater and darker fog around him. The insanity made its way into the cracks of his skull. His whimpers grew more and more hysteric, he curled his arms around his body, not wanting to think about his imminent death. I don't want to die, I don't want to die. John’s skin grew cold, freezing even, he felt as if his body was already dead.

Saga’s aura consumed him as he kneeled, bringing his mouth to his ear. The breath was ice cold, devoid of any life, he whimpered louder as his mind descended into insanity.

“Are you afraid?”

He placed his hand on John’s neck, slowly bringing them up and caressing his face until he met his eye socket, stopping the eyelids from closing.

“How many did you watch suffer with these eyes?”

Saga already knew the answer, he could feel the souls of the children and people he watched die before his eyes. The souls that eternally marked the man for death, the souls calling out for someone to avenge them.

Emilia, confused at the scene before her, crawled away slowly, turning to run towards her parent’s bedroom. Saga did not pay her any mind.

“Do you feel the impurity John? Do you see the souls of the ones you’ve killed? Do you see… your sins?

Saga strengthened his grip around John's head. There was no reply to his inquiry. Growing angry at his unresponsiveness, he turned John’s head, their eyes now meeting each other. John’s eyes were devoid of any sense, fear had consumed the man’s mind, not a shred of sanity was left.

Saga poured all his hatred into his eyes, he could feel a burn on his right chest, the first pain he’d felt since the start of the onslaught. Ignoring it, The Mark on Saga continued to burn itself red into the skin, shining through his ragged clothes as Saga relentlessly stared into John’s eyes.

“DIE.”

The whimpering stopped, John became entranced by the radiant eyes, he could see a mark inside the pupils, contrasting with the radiant blue. The Mark of The Heretic.

Pitch Black.

John could not see anything anymore, a shroud of darkness covered his eyes.

A whisper.

An unintelligible whisper appeared to his right.

He tried to turn his head, but there was nothing. The whispers seemed to come from nowhere. They continued, becoming louder and louder by the second. Where..? Where am I..? What’s happening? John desperately tried looking around, but he could not see anything at all, the whispering was unrelenting, growing louder and louder, more and more voices appeared. John covered his ears, trying to block out the noise.

They continued. Speaking in Their Atrocious voices.

Whispering together.

Their Resolve

With Hunger.

Their Will

With Agony.

Their Bravery

With Fear.

Their Desire

With Regret.

Their Impulse

With Despair.

Their Grief

With Hatred.

“Stop… Stop… Please… MAKE IT STOP!”

The whispers disappeared.

It was now deathly silent.

John uncovered his ears and looked around. Where the fuck am I!?

A red light appeared in the distance. He looked up at it. It quickly grew, swallowing the darkness in its bright glow. Mesmerized, he started towards the light, desperate for any chance to get out of this hellhole.

Then… he heard it, his feet stopped in their tracks. The hair on his skin stood tall as his eyes widened in horror.

Screams.

Bloodcurdling screams came from the light. It continued to grow, encompassing the darkness and chasing after John. He turned to run, nearly tripping on his feet, tears falling down his face.

“No… no… please, SOMEBODY! SAVE ME… SOMEBODY!... please.

His voice was heard by no one.

The light swallowed John, blinding him even as he closed his eyes.

The screams reverberated through his entire body. His ears ruptured, bleeding profusely from the sheer volume. But he could still hear it, in his mind, just as loud as before, the screams of those who had been Damned by God. They continued relentlessly, John curled into a ball and screamed as well.

“Saga…”

The screams stopped suddenly. The red light disappeared. The pitch-black darkness returned.

“Saga…” The voice called out again.

“Saga… You, you are not Him.”

A figure appeared in front of John’s eyes. Completely black, somehow blacker than the darkness itself.

A Void.

It stood tall, taller than humanly possible. In its hand, a scythe, standing as tall as the figure itself. John could feel a hellish stare coming from the figure, a stare that pierced his very soul. The figure raised its scythe, pointing it at John. It’s… Beautiful...

The body grew light in Saga’s hands, John’s eyes now completely blank and grey. However, instead of slumping down to the ground, the body raised itself into the air, its arms and legs dangling weightlessly.

Around the corner, a visibly pregnant woman carrying a small toddler appeared, following Emilia. The woman’s worried look turned into shock upon seeing the scene, a body slowly floating in the air, a young man in ragged and bloody clothes standing next to it. The body rose until it was eye level with Saga, stopping in the air.

A few seconds passed when the body had started to twitch, blood spilling out of its ears, nose, mouth, and eyes. Starting from a gentle flow, then into a spurting bloodbath, the woman screamed as she covered her kids’ eyes from the nightmare before them. The eyes burst, The Mark appeared on John's forehead when his chest suddenly exploded. The body flopped on the ground face up, no longer a recognizable corpse. The Heretic’s Mark slowly started to take form under the body with John’s blood.

Saga’s blood lust had finally ended. His nerves calmed, his hatred no longer powering his abilities, his thirst for death quenched.

The Incarnation of Hatred was pulled back behind his humanity. He looked down at the ground, a puddle of blood was at his feet, slowly receding into the mutilated body to complete The Mark, he stared into his own eyes in the reflection. They glowed back at him. The image burned itself into Saga’s mind.

He looked at his hands, the calluses and cuts that were present even before his awakening were gone. His body was no longer sore, no longer in constant pain. Yet, Saga could feel something. Something separating from him. Something leaving his body along with the pain.