Chapter 41

Vera and Isaac looked up in horror. All confidence melted away. Jaws dropped as they watched their dearest friend be tortured in front of their very eyes. Her screams were deafening. Her cries were agonizing. And they were hopeless to help. The plague slowly wrapped around Elizabeth's body. Suddenly, she was yanked down. The nails ripped through and out her hands. She fell to her knees, holding her hands to her face. Giant holes in her palms, with a large gash running up to her fingers. Her hands trembled. She felt sick to her stomach. Her skin-stained red with blood, stained so deep that even her tears couldn't wash it clean.

"It's going to be hard now, doing surgeries with hands like that."

"You bastard!" Grimwald turned to see Vera charging at him. She held up her staff, ready to strike. She swung. He dodged. He kneed her stomach and grabbed her throat. He picked her up and slammed Vera into the ground. Grimwald moved his hand over her mouth, silencing her. He got on top of her. He lifted she clothes, exposing her midsection, and traced a circle across her belly with his dagger.

"You know, I'm having a real hard time deciding. I could kill you now, get you out of my hair. Or, I could let you live and suffer through the miscarriage. Which do you prefer?" Vera gasped. Her eyes welled up. It started to click for her. Is she? Was she? How? When? She could see Grimwald grin underneath his mask. Suddenly, he was knocked off. Isaac tackled him. He began to wail on the plague doctor.

"Don't touch her!" He shouted. Vera looked on with gratitude and fear. She gently clutched her gut.

"Pregnant..." She whispered.

"Cease." Grimwald grabbed and tangled Isaac with the plague. He stabbed his chest, piercing through his armor like butter. He pulled out the dagger and spun Isaac around. Grimwald placed his arm around Isaac's neck and raised the knife. "An eye for an eye." Down the blade came. It lodged directly into Isaac's eye. The paladin screamed. Grimwald planted his foot on his back, and kicked Isaac to the ground, ripping out the dagger and his eyeball. Grimwald gently lifted his mask and brought the knife to his mouth. A long, slender, in human tongue slithered down and took the eyeball into his jaw. "Now, where was I?" Grimwald flicked his wrist. The plague sprouted from the ground and tangled Isaac's and Vera's bodies. He pulled them to the ground, forced them to their knees, and he approached Elizabeth. The poor girl was still holding her hands, writhing in pain. He began to hum a haunting tune, like a twisted nursery rhyme. Grimwald bent over her. He caressed her head, wiped away a tear. "Poor angel." He said, lifting her chin with a finger. "I'm going to make you wish you were never born." He whispered. Grimwald snappily grabbed Elizabeth's throat. He tossed her behind him. Elizabeth slammed her back into a pew and toppled to the floor. "I'm going to make you wish you stayed dead." The plague emerged from the ground and snagged Elizabeth. The twisting terrible tendrils worked their way all over Elizabeth's body. They did the same for all of the heroes. Up their thighs, between their arms, around their chests. The tentacles snuck into their clothes. They wedged into their pores, their mouths, any orifice they could penetrate. "Beg for me, beg for a mercy that won't come!" Grimwald commanded. They were subjected to a grueling, sickening, absolutely vile form of torture. An invasive, indescribable hell. They couldn't fight. They couldn't resist. All they could do was wait for Grimwald to yield, and Grimwald was a patient man. Eventually, he did release them. As the plague retreated, Elizabeth and the others immediately went to vomit. They puked like they have never known sickness before. They felt hot, their skin was burning up. They felt weak, their whole body ached. Elizabeth's symptoms were mild, but she still felt awful. It was the other two that had her worried. They just wouldn't stop. Vomiting and vomiting over and over. Elizabeth looked at them with shock and horror.

"No..." She said in disbelief.

"Did you really think you could best me?" He laughed. "Did you honestly think that my brother's ridiculous blessing would keep you safe from my illness?!"

"Brother?"

"And don't get me started on your little quote on quote precautions. That's the problem with you humans. You think your precious science will help you defy nature. But it won't. Because you forget. There's always another strain." Grimwald reared his head back laughing. He laughed and he laughed. His voice slowly sounded less and less human. More demonic, or angelic in nature. Elizabeth looked at her friends. Her friends, on the floor, in a pool of their own vomit, just like she was. Only difference is that they were still breathing. And Grimwald was still laughing. Laughing, laughing, laughing. Elizabeth stood up, still staring at her friends.

"Guys...?" She whispered. She could see the two of them reaching their hands out to each other. A last-ditch attempt to be close to one another, just in case this was the end. They were so weak. They felt so sick. And Grimwald continued laughing. Laughing, laughing, laughing. "Shut up!" Elizabeth barked as she struck Grimwald across the face. In a fit of rage, she had leapt forward. She confronted the demon through gritted teeth, without any semblance of fear. But that fear would quickly return. Grimwald's mask flew off his face. Elizabeth gasped, covered her mouth. Isaac and Vera lifted their heads to see and followed suit with the same reaction. A reaction of disgust, of fear, of horror, of repulse. Beneath the mask, hidden from the world, lied the truest nightmare. A corpse, half its face decayed and the other rotted away completely. This was Grimwald's true form. He wasn't some demented young man with a passion to kill. He wasn't some wielder of a devastating illness. No, he was something far, far worse. He was Pestilence, a horseman of the apocalypse.