Chapter 30 #2
She took a single step forward before her boot hit something hard and unmoving. Glancing down, she gasped as she saw a Watchman laying at her feet. His face ripped to shreds, his lifeless eyes wide and petrified as they stared up at her. The blood pooling around him still fresh.
Anelize froze when she heard footsteps echoing from one of the tunnels.
And in the shadows, where the light of the walls and the moon did not reach, a figure stood watching her.
It was too dark to see; to tell who it was before they retreated farther away.
The sound of running feet slapping against the ground as they retreated into the tunnel sent a chill reverberating through her.
If it had been a Watchman, he would have demanded to know what she was doing here. Drawn his sword to attack her. But if not a Watchman, then who else was here? And what sort of madness had led them to killing a Watchman in such a vicious manner?
Stretching her power forward, she attempted to sense that lone heartbeat. It was there, only it was faint. Hollow and distant. No light emanating from its pulsing sound, save for an inky black tendril.
She had never heard a heart such as this one before.
When the figure had yet to appear, she stepped into the light where snowflakes gradually fell around her. She waited—listened—then it was there.
A voice muttering in the dark.
Anelize’s heart pounded in her chest. Fear becoming her sole companion.
“Hello?” she breathed into the dark.
The muttering stopped, like a thread snapping. There and gone. The sound of footsteps running to the right of the tunnel made her turn with a gasp, only to find there was nothing.
Every instinct told her to run, escape this place.
Only she could not will herself to move, save for slowly turning in a circle within the light.
Eyeing every opening in the earth, straining to see if there was someone here in the chamber with her.
When a grating chuckle sounded closer, this time behind her, Anelize’s eyes widened as she felt the eyes of someone watching her once again.
She turned to see a young man standing on the edge of the light, his hair matted to his head which hung low.
He wore tattered clothes and his feet were bare.
Skin pale—almost blue—as he lingered in the shadows.
It was difficult to see his face, but his eyes were so dark they appeared black as they lifted to watch Anelize.
When he finally lifted his face, a gasp slipped past her lips.
“W-Wellyn?”
The Dobrin boy flinched at the sound of his name. His head tilting to one side curiously, the movement purely animalistic. He was alive.
“Wellyn….” he repeated, his voice a hollow sound around her. “I am Wellyn.”
Anelize licked her dried lips nervously. “Yes. You are. Do you know who I am? It’s me, Anya.”
Wellyn’s bare feet padded around the light, circling her.
“Anya…” It was highly possible that he’d lost all sense of himself being down here for however long they’d left him to wither away, delirious from the cold or the labyrinth they found themselves in. His voice was low as he murmured, “I wish to be safe. Will you help me?”
Unsettled, she forced herself to nod. “Yes. I can.”
“Help me…” Wellyn stopped walking, turned to face her and stepped into the light.
Revealing black inky veins that ran down his legs wherever she saw skin through his torn clothes.
It was a ghastly sight, and suddenly the scent of rot filled her nose.
When she opened her mouth to speak, she saw blackened teeth beyond cracked lips.
Just as the Moroi had looked. Wellyn’s voice grew louder, more desperate as he said again and again, banging a fist over his chest and sinking his nails into his flesh. “Help me, help me, help me!”
Before Anelize could try to calm him, Wellyn lunged, shrieking as he ran toward her. She screamed as Wellyn knocked her to the ground. The air rushed through her lungs as pain lanced through her.
“Wellyn, stop!” she yelled as he crawled on top of her and pounced, his hands disfigured from the cold as he reached for Anelize’s face.
She shielded herself with her arms, holding them up and bracing them against his shoulders.
His skin felt paper-thin against her palms, but he was stronger than he looked even in his fragile state.
He continued shrieking like a wild animal, so loud her ears rang out in protest. Her pleas going wholly ignored by him. His intent to harm her the only thing that seemed to matter.
Anelize’s arms shook beneath the weight as his hands flailed, slashed her cheek with a sharp nail.
He barely gave her the chance to conjure and stop him.
His teeth clacked together as he pushed his head between her arms, bulging eyes staring wild and hungry as something hot and wet dripped onto her cheek.
A black viscous liquid poured from his eyes, like tears.
Then she realized, breath stalling in her throat, that they were.
Black tears that streamed from his nearly sunken eyes.
Through his desperate, fear-curdling grunts and shrieks, Anelize could have sworn she’d heard him sobbing, his voice calling out from some deep abyss as he said again, “Help me, help me, help me.”
“Wellyn, please stop.” she gasped out as Wellyn continued pushing into her until her arms gave way, the weight too much to bear.
Just as he reared back to give her one final bone crushing push, a deep voice bellowed. “Hey!”
As Wellyn whirled, his face was met with the edge of a long sword as it sank into the center of his flesh. Black blood oozed, splattering Anelize in a sudden burst as he recoiled away from the blade. Wellyn hissed as he shook his head. Shrieking, he staggered away, retreating into the shadows.
Strong arms gripped hers, and she was pulled onto her feet, her mind in a daze as she stared up into Gabriel’s weathered face.
“Are you all right, Anya?” he asked, his breaths as labored as hers.
Gabriel was here. But how?
“I’m fine,” she gasped.
Wellyn’s wails turned into roars of rage as he spun toward them once more, revealing the bloodied black gash across his face. He fell onto his arms and legs, the bones bending at odd, unnatural angles before shooting toward them, claws outstretched.
Gabriel barely had time to shove her aside, sending her slamming into the wall before Wellyn sprang toward him.
He dodged Wellyn’s claws, and, in one swift motion, thrust his sword through his chest. But Wellyn was frenzied, barely flinching as the sword impaled him, and drove his claws straight across Gabriel’s chest. The sound of flesh and fabric tearing ripping through her.
“Gabriel!” Anelize yelled as the creature shoved him back so hard that he sent him across the chamber, slamming against the wall hard enough that it shook beneath the force.
As Gabriel crumpled to the ground, he made no move to stand again.
Wellyn turned his vicious gaze upon her, black tears streaming down his face as he staggered toward her. With the sword protruding through his spine, having torn his shirt, Anelize caught sight of the pale mottled skin beneath. A network of black veins, like a spider’s web riddling his flesh.
Gabriel’s attack must have done a considerable amount of damage, for as he stalked toward her, his bare feet dragged across the ground. His arms falling to his sides, hanging low.
“Wellyn?” Henry’s voice came from one of the tunnels, where he stood with a bloodied sword in hand. A horrified look on his face as he took in the ghastly sight of his son.
And standing behind him, wrapped in a cloak around her feeble body, with a too thin face, was none other than Enid.
Staring at the boy she loved with hollow eyes.
Any relief Anelize might have felt of being rescued or reuniting with her sister was quickly overcome with dread as they all took in the sight of what had been done to Wellyn.
The boy staggered to a halt as he slowly turned to face his father. The black tears streaming down his cheeks endless as he said, “Father…”
“Oh, my son. What have they done to you?”
Anelize got to her feet as Henry urged her to get behind him, coming to shield her and Enid as Wellyn released a low growl.
“Anya,” Enid breathed out as she wrapped her into a bone-crushing embrace. Kissing her head and cheeks as Anelize silently cried, finally able to hold her in her arms.
Henry and Gabriel must have set her free. The question of how they’d managed to get through the gates and an entire army of Watchman was beyond her. None of those things mattered so long as she could hold Enid again.
“Wellyn.” Enid moved her gaze toward Wellyn before she turned away and stumbled forward, purging what little was in her stomach. Anelize hurried to help her, hating all of this. This twisted turn that had taken place within mere moments.
“F-father…” Wellyn gasped as blood pooled down the front of his shirt where Gabriel had thrust his sword through him in a sheer act of defense. He took one step forward before his legs gave out and he crashed onto the floor.
Henry rushed to his side, yanking the sword in his chest out and tossing it across the chamber with a hateful glare. But when he pulled him into his arms, Henry’s voice was gentle.
“Yes, I’m your father. I’m here now.”
“I want to go home,” Wellyn murmured as he stared up at the gap on the ceiling of the tunnel, watching the snow fall around them.
Henry’s eyes shined with tears as he laid his son down onto the ground, resting his head upon his lap and ran his hand through his matted, red hair.
“Home…I want to go home…” Wellyn gasped again, his voice weaker this time.
“We’ll take you home,” Henry reassured as he held him. “We’re all waiting for you.”
Enid turned into Anelize’s arms, her tears silently streaming down her face and onto her shoulder as they heard Wellyn’s final breath ease out of his lips.
Dead.
Wellyn was dead.