Haunted Hereafter

Blood sprayed from the wound as her arm was sent sprawling across the throne room. As if unable to process the events, her stare became aimless as she fell to one knee. Her childish face scrunched as she failed to grasp what exactly had happened.

"Do you get it now, girl."

Wincing, she sent a painful glance towards her wound. She looked down away from the gorish sight and raised a shaky, strained voice.

"Get what?"

The girl spoke in a defiant tone but with significant difficulty. She was young, helplessly inexperienced and not used to the sensation of pain in the slightest. And yet she reacted as if her pain and her speech were two separate issues entirely. 

"Oh... So it's not clear yet? Then the other one too, if you please, Helena?"

Again, a silent, instant, awful slash mercilessly descended upon the girl, cleaving through her left arm. This time, the girl couldn't hide her agony as she bit down on her lip. As her adrenaline dispersed, thrown off balance, she fell to her knees. She had come to know pain.

"Do you understand now."

"It hurts."

The Emperor showed a glance of cruel amusement at her weak, armless figure. Machia stared weakly at the girl's bloodied yet stout stance.

"It does doesn't it? Surely you understand you were mistaken. Now allow us to heal-"

"No, I wasn't."

Standing up, the girl strained her face as blood poured down from both amputated stumps. Both the fake king and Emperor stared at the girl with idle shock. Their elderly faces looked between one another as they shared the same wrinkled bewilderment at the child before them.

"I wasn't mistaken. I just know now, that I won't surrender to someone like you again.

"You, You plebian! Turn-around girl? Look at that boy. He is the same as you, yet you won't see him share your foolishness. It's simple, really! Merely hang your head like so!"

With a pale, drained expression, the girl turned to Machia, noticing the grievous, sombre frown that warped his child-like face. Rather than say anything to him, she simply gazed upon his figure momentarily. As the two shared in that knowing stare, the girl's eyes rolled back as she collapsed onto the ground before him. 

"Disciples, do not allow that foolish girl to die! Grab her arms immediately and heal her."

The king was left silent as the three remaining cloaked members of the Emperor's ensemble rampantly scoured the room. A fearful expression coated the King's face, and he was frozen stiff. The vengeance from earlier was long forgotten on his pale, withered features. The Emperor was equally shaken as he yelled desperate commands at his followers. 

'Pity'

That girl, she had looked at him with pity. Approaching her was suffocating as he looked down at the mortal wounds that maimed her small body.

'A true fool. You can't even protect yourself, so why am I so?'

Looking at the girl's delicate figure coated in blood, Machia could have sworn he felt a pang of sadness at the state of his fellow blessed. Something wet fell down his cheek, but he was too scared to check. 

"Right, these are my orders. I will return to the Empire. There are wars to supervise, after all. Helena, you will stay here and train the girl personally. I want her capable and willing as soon as possible, understand?." 

Machia lost interest in his circumstances. He watched as the blood stained the girl's vibrant green hair. A dark shadow covered his childish face.

The Emperor yelled at Machia from atop his throne.

"Blessed, I also want you involved in the girl's training. You will show her how to obey like yourself. 

Machia responded but failed to tear his eyes away from the macabre scene of his fellow maimed Blessed.

"Yes, my Emperor."

A second picture had forever embedded itself into Machia's mind. 

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His eyes opened.

Resurging with energy, Machia glanced around at his surroundings. The searing heat and destruction above himself continued to boil him. A glance down harboured a far more horrific scene. 

Swimming below in the distance were dozens of awful giant black monstrosities that wore bewitching gazes. Harbouring unfathomable malice, those leviathans ascended towards Machia restlessly. 

A sharp spike of fear reared its head inside Machia. Doing his best to hold back a scream, Machia prepared himself. Kicking his legs, he descended from the raging fire that chased him, wisely choosing to confront the depraved fiends.

He yelled out a war cry that was swallowed by the wave's depths as he dove towards them with unrelenting speed. Shadows erupted from his being as the first faster, smaller leviathans were slaughtered and severed by an armada of swirling black shadows. The largest of the monsters slowly honed in on Machia as their eyes brimmed with intelligence. 

His face tense and desperate, Machia continued to struggle and advance on the ensuing fiends. Even amplified by the shadow cast by the sun, Machia could feel his strength slowly dissipate. His lungs were also bottoming out of oxygen reserves whilst he cut apart the last of the small fiends. These distressful thoughts distracted him as the most enormous creature yet dove towards Machia. Slamming into him from below, Machia wrestled with the creature's upper jaw, avoiding being crushed inside it as it carried him up. 

Machia screamed in agony as the water pressure distorted his body. The further he rose, the more it hurt. First, his eardrums burst, and soon after, he felt his organs contort. However, the heat was worse. The threat of radiant fire was still very real, and it continued its rampage above, swallowing the water with a raging intensity. 

Machia frantically glanced at his surroundings, looking for a way out as he rode the beast up. The image of blood and green hair entered his mind as he gazed fearfully at the beast threatening to swallow him. A pitiful laugh escaped his mouth as his fear dispersed. He was out of oxygen. 

With the last of his strength, he placed his hands together. He was promptly swallowed without them to push himself away from the beast's maw. The black featureless beast, in some twisted accomplishment, smiled. But the instant it did, a burst of black erupted from its body. The oily black blood emanated from the creature, obscuring all view. Blasting out of the darkness, a body was launched upwards. Skimming past the waves and flames with immeasurable speed, Machia was cast out of the water. 

Landing in the shallow depths of the beach's waves, Machia reared his head above the surface, gasping. Despite his urgent panting, Machia's face was devoted and focused. Crawling his way out of the shallow waves, Machia's state was revealed to himself. Horrific burns scarred his face. His limbs were shredded and bleeding. But his hands were the worst. Only a single finger remained attached and free of crooked twists. 

Taking a brief moment to examine this, Machia struggled to his feet. With an awkward limp, he walked away from the sea, distancing himself from the fiends.

Behind Machia was an enormous leering monstrosity that gazed at his back amused. He didn't need to turn to realise the statue's jaw withheld a wide grin. Limping away from the beast, his expression void of feeling, he slowly but reluctantly entered the cusps of the forest.

Carrying his mangled state, he kept the visceral image of green bloodied hair in his mind as he staggered away from the sea. It was uncertain for what reason he had been permitted to leave, but it was surely a malevolent one. The sun had since descended, weakening him further. Despite this, he basked in the darkness of night. He had lost.

Machia stopped. 

Turning his head, he saw the unconscious figure of Circe nearby. Stumbling towards her body, he reached out with a disfigured hand before hesitating. Absent of all empathy, Machia looked down on the women with absolute indifference. 

Emotionless eyes withdrew themselves from her figure. Without saying a word, he turned, and he left.