Chapter 12: Horrid Sight

John swung open the doors, dashing through them as fast as he could manage.

Red, he saw nothing but red…

The first floor was drenched in blood. What he saw first was the color, then he smelled it, and lastly, he saw the source.

Many of the guards were laying there, some having severe injuries like a missing head or gash on their side, while others simply lay face flat on the ground, blood oozing from under them.

John tried to hold back a gag, as the sight was so unexpected. He kneeled, trying to push nausea back into his stomach, and after a second or two, he was able to.

Now panting heavily, he rose, starting to scan around frantically.

He silently, panic rising in him. 'Where's Mr. Meyer? Mary? Dang it. We fell right into their trap by leaving to investigate. I can only hope the two are alright.'

John was unable to find Mary or Mr. Meyers among the bodies of the first floor as he combed his way through the sea of red.

In a way, that was a good thing, but he was concerned by a lack of clues on their whereabouts.

After passing all the bodies on the 1st floor, he passed the reception desk, which also had blood on its exterior.

He peered inside to see the desk lady, the woman who had just exclaimed how she'd turned 25 the other day, dead.

The picture frame that held her family in it was tattered, laying beside her.

John couldn't say for sure, but by how close it was to her open-palmed hand it seemed the last thing she did was grab it, attempting to take her keepsake with her as she tried to escape.

He clenched his fist in anger. Whoever did this was going to pay. The scene reminded him of that fateful day.

The sight flashed in his mind.

After finding his teacher's corpse, he'd gone into his town. The number of bodies made him sick then, too.

What made him even sicker than seeing those he'd grown up with, being perfectly fine hours ago being dead, was the lack of respect.

It was the fact Luna had just appeared, killing them and leaving their bodies laying out to rot. It was the clear and blatant lack of humanity in the death of innocent life.

John's master, Zubec, never sugar-coated things around him, explaining that in battle, death was unavoidable, but still, as a warrior, proper respect and burial were part of that lifestyle.

Here, there were no warriors. There were workers and people simply trying to provide for their families.

The act was beyond deplorable.

The image left his mind, and now gazing at the bodies on the first floor, he had that same sickening feeling in his stomach. The killing of innocents. Targeting a ceremony that was supposed to bring people together for the betterment of this country, it brought a feeling of rage that could rival that of a volcanic eruption from inside him.

While he was in the deepest of thoughts, he heard a commotion upstairs. He thought he heard grunting as well as screams of pain.

Now passing the reception desk and attempting to leave his emotions there as well, he dashed to the staircase, ascending up at a rapid speed. He skipped over every other step, doing his best to make it to the noise in time.

After climbing up enough stairs, in his view, he saw something he never expected.

It was Mr. Meyers, lying in a pool of his own blood; and a bit in front of him, he saw Mary, who had steel armor around her body as well as an iron-chained whip in her hand.

She was facing down several adversaries who shared similar attributes to their previous attackers, being hooded and holding blades as they struck and slashed at her.

John wanted to do nothing more than help, but he had to confirm something first.

He ran over to Mr. Meyers, reaching down to try and check his pulse just in case… but nothing.

He was gone.

John's eyes widened, and the realization hadn't hit him fully yet, but he had failed.

Mary yelped as she got slashed across the chest.

The attack completely slashed through her armor, making her cough up blood. She didn't let the pain stop her, however, as she swung her whip almost instantly, decapitating the one who gave her the injury across her chest.

She backed up, wobbling slightly, all the while staring down the three remaining hooded figures with bated breath.

As her vision started to get blurry, she thought to herself, 'This is bad. My steel armor isn't going to do much now. If I hadn't been fighting off so many for this long, my armor would've been at its highest defensive state. These bastards just kept attacking back to back to back without relenting. They all targeted the same spot too, must've known whittling down one area instead of attacking more spread out was the best play. I have to commend their tactics even if they are disgusting murderers.'

In an act that could only be called surprising, the remaining three figures rushed towards her at once, all of them holding two blades in each hand.

They launched them at her, and in her panic, she twirled her whip, creating a sort of barrier that blocked the projectiles. The figures must've expected this, though, as they leaped over her whip. They reached in their pockets, no doubt to pull out more weapons, closing the distance more and more.

Time seemed to freeze for Mary, Oh no, I won't be able to bring the whip back in time! Is this it for me? I'm so sorry. Ashur!

She closed her eyes, waiting for the end-

"Oh no you don't!"

Mary opened her eyes to see John soaring through the air.

He had a blade- the one Mr. Meyers had given him in his hand as he swung fiercely. He cut through two of the figures instantly, while the third one was able to dodge just in time, getting off with a nick on his ear.

After John and the man landed, they rushed at each other in an instant.

He pulled out a dagger, slashing at John, but he easily deflected the attack before lifting his leg to deliver a powerful front kick, sending the figure flying back.

"Now Mary!" John shouted.

Her eyes glowed with realization. John had sent the figure directly towards her whip, which was still extended.

So in one smooth movement, she spun her wrist, the whip reacting to completely wrap around the figure before she pulled it, tearing him in half.

The man plopped to the ground, dead.

Mary fell to the ground as well, her armor dissipating, revealing her torn and bloodied clothes.

John rushed over, grabbing her shoulders before she could fully fall on her back. He gave her a worried look.

"Think you'll be okay?"

Mary nodded hesitantly without saying a word, and John, taking that as a semi-positive answer, lifted her up.

The two started making their way down the staircase, with John being the main reason Mary could even walk in her state, as she was leaning on him heavily.

He wanted to ask what happened. To ask if she knew who attacked and how Mr. Meyers died, but that wasn't the thing to be concerned about at this exact moment.

John had a darkened expression on his face as he realized something. Mary had a cut on her chest, a deep one too. One that revealed her rib bone.

The skin around the gash was purple-colored. The blades must've had a poisonous coating on them. He knew he had to get her help and fast.

After making their way down the stairs, she coughed up blood, slipping from his grasp. The puddle of red rippled from under her as she plopped to the ground.

John reached down panicked. "Here, let me he-"

"It's no use."

Her words made John stop in his tracks. He thought the same thing, but still-

"No, I refuse to leave you like this." He tried pulling her up again, but he could tell she wasn't even trying to get up, or maybe it was more accurate to say she couldn't try.

Her body was limp.

He started lifting her up halfway before she spoke again, this time her voice breaking. "I said it's no use!"

John had been determined to get her back on her feet no matter what she said, but after hearing the seriousness in her voice, he paused. She was slowly slipping from his hold.

"I've been an adventurer for about three years and a warrior even longer. I know when there's nothing else I can do. I'm done."

John teared up, slowly lowering her back down. He was defeated.

"B-but I can't." He started shaking. "I can't leave you like this. Ashur told me to bring you back safely, and that's what I'm supposed to do." John started wiping the tears from his face.

Mary took a deep and labored breath in.

"Before I go, there are two things you need to know. At the meeting and right before the appointment of the new member of the council, the hooded figures appeared. They said they belonged to the Black Jack Organization and had to do this. That they always completed a job. They were led by a big man with a long white beard. He had a beast-like scar over his chest and a huge hammer over his shoulder. He, along with the hooded figures, proceeded to attack."

She paused before reaching up, and with a strength John didn't expect from her, she pulled him down.

Now they were eye-level and tears welled up in her eyes.

"They slaughtered them, John. Every last one of them. There were some kids in the room, too, some being nieces or children of the council members, but they didn't care. They made sure no one would be able to tell the tale of what happened."

John gave her a dead-eyed look as she continued. "I hurriedly tried taking Mr. Meyers away, and while I initially escaped, thanks to Annerose and her ability of saintly covering, we didn't make it far. That bearded guy I told you about before, we fought. He was strong, far too strong. He barely broke a sweat as he pummeled me, he separated me from Mr. Meyers and I told him to run. While we fought, I could tell that man was just playing around with me. If he wanted to, I would've been dead, I'm sure of it. However, he let me walk away. I don't know why, but that was until I found his body. The mission had already been completed. And so, he sent the rest of the hooded figures after me. He must've been sure they could take me because he simply walked off. Leaving me and all nine of them."

Mary paused, her breathing coming out shakily.

In that second, she glowed, and Annerose appeared. Tears were streaming down the spirits' face as she cried out. "Mary! Mary, don't leave me!"

Annerose was laying on her chest, lightly punching it.

They weren't hard punches, just enough to convey her feelings, her frustration and sadness

"I… need you. I love you!"

Mary just smiled, looking at John, and her eyes started to gloss over.

"Now for the second thing. Please take Annerose in. She's an awkward spirit who can be unruly and annoying, but I'm all she has. But she could have you if you're willing."

"But I thought you said you'd never give her up." John's voice was breaking as his eyes started watering, doing his best to hold back more tears from falling.

He hated this. This feeling of powerlessness. Of seeing a good person die right in front of him when it could've been avoided.

Especially after him promising Ashur that he'd bring her back. He thought he'd resolved himself not to be the useless John who couldn't protect anything.

"I know what I said then. But I just need you to say yes, can you do that for me?"

John started to open his mouth, but Annerose interjected, screaming out tearfully. "No! No! I refuse! I know what I said earlier, but I didn't want things to go like this! Not again!"

A faint smile formed on Mary's face. "I know. Just like my mother and hers before her, you've always been with our family. But it's time for us to let it go. If you don't want to contract with John, that's fine, but I just don't want you to be alone."

Annerose had been crying heavily ever since she appeared, but now it was like night and day.

She hollered as she stared up toward the ceiling, scream-crying.

Mary gave a dry chuckle. "She'll never answer or listen to me, even when it's my final wish. Could you please take her in for me?"

John looked down at her. His eyes were determined as he punched his chest firmly. "Of course." He flashed her a warm smile.

It took all he had to maintain it, but he had to. To reassure her in her last moments. Despite his heart feeling like it'd break, he held it together best as he could.

A tear still trickled down his face. Mary spotted it, smiling at him.

"I'm grateful for you." She thought. Her vision started to blur, and that's when she realized she was almost gone. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came, as she felt a sharp pain in her throat. 'Ah, they must've poisoned me, huh?' She concluded.

Mary reached her hand up to him slowly, John taking it in his.

As his hand touched hers, he shuddered. It was cold, so very cold. The glimmer in her eye was fading. He didn't feel as if she was able to see him anymore.

What she was doing now would be her very last act.

Suddenly, he felt a warm sensation from her hand. It was a strong warmth, a kind warmth.

He felt energy and power ebbing into him.

It slowly spanned from his hand to his arm, starting to coat his entire body. A glow emanated from him, as Annerose was slowly lifted off Mary's chest.

She cried out in protest, but it fell on deaf ears, as Mary was looking intently at John. Their eyes were locked, and in that moment, all he could focus on was her.

He felt his spirit grow heavy, as Annerose slowly entered his chest, merging completely, mind, body, and soul with him. He got a flash of her memories.

John saw a woman who looked like Mary on a bed, having very wrinkled skin gazing at her. Next, he saw another woman similar looking to Mary. She was a little girl, though, holding up Annerose in the air, spinning her around with a joyful smile on her face.

The memory flash cut short, as the glow that was slowly rising became so bright that John had to close his eyes, despite it coming from him.

Suddenly, he felt a shift as Mary's hand left his.

He was still blinded by the light, and he felt as if something was surging inside of him. This was what it meant to make a spirit contract.

After the light faded, he looked down at Mary, seeing her eyes, which had previously been so full of life just hours before when they talked in the carriage, now empty.

She was gone.

Wham

Ashur pushed open the front doors, scanning frantically around.

He had a few bruises as well as blood, which was coming from his side, but for the most part, he seemed fine. Nothing too severe was seen.

John gave him a pained look, and Ashur, locking eyes with him, knew what that look meant. Without a word, he ran over to the pair, crouching down until he was face to face with Mary.

His whole body was trembling as he gazed at her, and while not making a sound, he reached his hand forward. It was shaking so badly that he could barely reach her face, but once he did, he lightly placed it on her now cold cheeks.

He ran his other hand through her hair, trying to tidy it up, all the while staying silent as a mouse.

Despite the injury to the chest, her face was mostly unscathed from what Ashur could see, a smile plastered on it.

She still held her beauty.

The same beauty he had fallen in love with all those years ago, even when they were barely adolescents.

"Mary," His voice was no louder than a whisper.

There was a cold silence in the room as he heard no response from her.

John clenched his fists, preparing for Ashur to blow up, to be angry. He had given him one job to protect Mary as well as Mr. Meyers and he had failed at both.

Ashur wasn't facing John but still spoke out. "Is Mr. Meyers gone as well?"

"Yes. He is."

John couldn't see Ashur's face since his back was to him, but he heard a strange splash sound hit the ground.

It took him a second, but he eventually realized what the sound was. It was the sound of Ashur's tears rippling once hitting the bloodied ground. Ashur, voice cracking, spoke once more.

"John, could you leave us for a moment?"

John, without saying a word obliged. He walked outside of the building, closing the doors behind him.

The second he did so, he heard a bloodcurdling scream coming from inside. One that was filled with sadness, anguish, and pain.

No one could blame Ashur for doing so.

For at this moment, he had lost someone, his woman, a person he had shared practically every waking minute with. Someone who understood his past, his pain, and his goals for the future.

But that person was gone now, laying in a pool of blood because he was too incompetent to make it in time.

And with that, their mission was over.