Vita

Eugo felt as though an eternity had passed in an instant. The skin of his back stuck to the ground and he felt a pool slowly ebb out from his chest. He breathed, slowly, as though trying to stem the coming reaper.

The lights above were beginning to drift, creating a beautiful kaleidoscope above him. It is unfortunate that bright colours in nature, often associate themselves with death.

Eugo felt the pain pulse, some times were worse than others but that didn’t mean he ever felt bliss, he felt as though a single failed breath could take him to the river. He wished, or prayed, sung out of his lungs for help and assistance. 

Calling to anyone and everyone, and whether by chance or by fate, his cry was answered.

A middle-aged woman stood above him, she had a gentle smile but beneath it seemed to hide a life of pain, and misery. Eugo wanted to help her, though in his futility was barely able to lift a finger to save himself.

The woman had come with child in hand, he recognised the child. At least as the silhouette Eugo had been following earlier, who disappeared into a room. The pair left.

The time that passed flew by slower than the … What felt like hours, and sometimes days would pass as mere seconds. Until the woman returned.

Carrying a basket of materials Eugo had never seen before, the woman stood above him. After spending some time to analyse the situation, the woman got to work. 

Eugo felt his body writhe as it was stitched together piece by piece, wrapped in a mysterious life-giving substance. The woman had given him life, he tried to thank her, but she was gone, faster than wind.

The pain remained, though the ever-present threat of death had left with the woman, now following her movements closely step by step. It was now Eugo’s turn, to overcome the bullet crushing his soul, and step out to drive through it.

Lifting an arm violently in the air, his body responded with an involuntary shriek. He wasn’t moving any time soon. Though his legs, which in Eugo’s mind were further from the bullet than his arms; might have better luck.

So, dragging himself along the clammy ground, through blood and past countless bodies; Eugo arrived at the stairs. An idea emerged into his mind. Hanging both his legs down the next few steps, he pressed his legs against them attempting to raise his torso.

It didn’t work at first, mainly because Eugo’s body was being annoyingly uncooperative. He guessed it was fair though, probably some biological issue related to the litres of blood Eugo had parted with.

Eugo saw a small handle on the side of the staircase and wished to grab it as he flung himself up. This fling looked more akin to someone very slowly raising in the early hellish morn an act which Eugo linked to that of George.

Still, with probably a few minutes’ worth of attempts Eugo had succeeded. He was proud that he could now stand on his own two feet, literally…

Dragging himself down each stair more carefully than he did even when crossing the trash heap. Eugo did his best to both stay steady on his feet, not tare the cloth on his chest, move at a reasonable pace, not collapse and several other factors essential to just not dying.

Albeit he was fairly successful with most of them, reaching the floor below, then the one beneath that as ever-increasing speeds. It almost became like a game, beat your record time of… Eugo wasn’t really counting but he assumed it was a while. 

To descend a staircase less than that seemed just slightly larger in height than George’s house. Which was on the larger side of Scorcher houses.

Though as much as Eugo was very willing to sprint to the other end of a corridor or leap his way down the stairs… Doing so would probably cause a fantastical eruption of blood that Eugo clinically believed would cause death.

Still, with his ever-improving dome records of descending a staircase with a bullet in your stomach, he made it to the upper balcony of what he believed was the room with the peculiar black creation. He remembered as he climbed up that it was so large it had a second viewing area.

This also supported his hypothesis that the Spotless watched from above as you were slowly enchanted by their odd creation. Though he hadn’t visited the balcony as it both seemed somewhat pointless and lacked the trail of blood, he was following some time earlier.

Eugo dragged his way past the final step… and then realised he would lose his handle to hold onto. With a deep breath he hung out a shaky leg as though it were the first time he’d walked in years. Slowly putting pressure onto it he let go of the rail.

What shocked him was the amount of weight which then dropped onto his one poor leg, almost crushing him into the ground. In fact, he probably would have collapsed had he not regrasped the rail.

Though Eugo was determined, though just as he was about to attempt this once more; a bell tolled. The same bell that caused him to have a bullet resting in his chest.

Forgetting about attempting to walk, he dragged himself off the staircase and to the edge of his rightly deduced balcony. Cautiously pushing off the balcony’s barrier to see what was below, Eugo planted both his feet and clambered onto the edge.

Down below he first saw a child, bleeding out onto the floor. Eugo thought it was fairly clear what had hit him, considering the earlier sound.

Looking over his suspicions were proven right as Ilken held out a gun directly in front of him in the direction of the now dying boy.

A mother cried over his body, and after a few seconds he realised it was the same boy and mother who had saved his life. Tight in the throat Eugo had lost more faith in Ilken than he thought possible, the boy had once been a great friend, and companion. 

Now he had been driven mad, past the point of salvation.

Though Eugo’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden cry of… George? Marching up one corner of the room. What streamed out were a blob of metal carrying Scorchers who all followed one man… George.

It took Eugo a second to notice this, blinking several times and eventually just giving up and accepting whatever the hell was happening. He watched as his small army raised their metal sheets to create a wall. One probably thick enough to stop a bullet.

Then, there was a humming. Soft, smooth, soothing. It flowed into Eugo’s brain and refused to leave. Men dressed in white manifested from all around the room, an action which seemed to bring a smile to Ilken’s face.

Who, without a second to even think, shot at the first one he saw. It was truly a spectacle to see, as the unfortunate man dropped to the ground. There was no fountain of blood, nor a sudden cry, only death.

That was enough, the room fell into a chaos. Most turned towards the wounded adversary, as several Spotless unsheathed their weapons at… another of their kin. Eugo could not comprehend such an action, though with pistols raised they prepared to shoot.

It was a cold cruel embrace, one that seemed unforgiving without any sign of remorse, or perhaps forgiveness.

Perhaps out of pity, or some other warped emotion. The woman had acquired a saviour, an overconfident pompous man who (screaming uncontrollably) led the power of his army towards the attacking Spotless.

Somehow, George had banded the people towards a single cause, a feat he considered quite impressive for a bunch of dull Scorchers.

The men, who had earlier only joined out of boredom or perhaps out of a weak hatred, burst into emotion. As though a pent-up reserve of all this hatred, and malice was to be realised at a single point.

Charging forth most tackled into the slightly confused Spotless, who seemed unable to fathom at the immense power they displayed as a united force. 

Those lucky enough to have a bullet withstanding shield rocketed into their opposition, flattening them.

Others were shot through their shield only to throw it as a last final pledge to those they loved.

Eugo’s eyes saw nothing two sides, the Spotless who killed without regret or remorse. Against the Scorchers who fought valiantly, at most bashing their poor victims a few times so that their arms and legs wouldn’t move again.

It was this difference that Eugo believed separated the two, not colour, nor up brining nor use of shovel or gun. Though perhaps, it was nothing at all.

As watching the woman frantically tend to her child, was shielded by the stupid actions disguised as valence from George. The boy stood proudly in front of the woman, and with multiple rounds now in his breaking shield he seemed to come to a conclusion.

With the help of some others George charged into the remaining Spotless with the force of a small George sized cart. Ending the battle for the Scorchers at one end of the room.

On the other hand, Ilken had quickly taken cover behind a pillar in the room, having apparently hidden a collection of ammunition in both of his pockets. Haphazardly shooting the approaching Spotless, Ilken slid back out of sight from Eugo. Chased by the remaining untouched Spotless men.

Eugo watch as the Scorchers celebrated at their victory, until their realised a truth. Salvation did not come without death.

In their efforts to kill no one, several Scorcher bodies laid still bleeding on the white ground. Some cried to their friends, others had already passed on. All knew that they were going to die.

The cost of the battle was almost a factor unseen by many. As in their mindless rage came a solution, but far from a peaceful one. In the centre of it all stood the black creation.

The woman walked silently over towards it, lifting up the cover and began to touch the mysterious white blocks. A symphony of black and white were bonded through the music.

The souls of the departed travelled up through the dome overhead, a gentle tune which soothed all those listening to it. Eugo observed the cries and pleads of people change into peace and prayer for the dead.

It was in this state that his body finally reached its limit, forcing him to sleep.