Prophecy of the Nexus

Chapter 13

The witches led our small convoy through the forest. They were like a ghostly guide, always there but always just out of focus. The head witch marched at the front of the trucks. No matter what speed we were going at, she maintained her lead. Members of her group matched the cars as constant guardians. I spotted in the nearby trees, other witches leaping from tree to tree like a monkey that could glide. It terrified me they could be so badly hurt from a demon attack with all their physical abilities. What chance did a normal human have?

As I gazed out the window at our hosts and spotted each on had a necklace. A brighten purple jewel swung from the cord like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. It wasn't natural. I couldn't imagine what they were made out of but looking at them unsettled and intrigued me.

The three of us said nothing to each other as we moved deeper into the forest. Sir Atticus constantly updated the other cars of our movements. It was clear he wasn't taking any chances of losing the other trucks. After a while, I noticed a light trying to push through the deep forest up ahead. The path also seemed to be getting smoother. Even some of the witches started dissipated. I brace myself again for whatever we were going to meet now.

Up in the trees, witches were looking down at us, bows ready. They had formed a perimeter with these giant trees around a lone gate. I couldn't see their faces because of the shadow, but I knew they looked wary. Even Sir Atticus tensed up a little as the lead witch waved us through. I hid from the window just in case any of them tried to fire on at me. I betted that their aim was as good as their speed. However, there was not chinking of metal. We passed through this line of defence and into a clearing.

I wasn't ready for the sight in front of me. The grey grass was crimson red with blood. There was a smell of decay mixed with burning flesh that filled my nostrils. I gagged on the putrid air. Even the boys had to cover their noses. Body parts lay on the floor, meters away from their owners' remains. Limbs seemed to have been torn from torsos, organs ripped out and half-devoured, and even a solitary head lay just a couple of feet from our vehicles. I didn't know where to look. There was no crying or any sound of mourning. A group of sad-looking witches were picking up their fallen brethren and placing them on a fire. Another group was attending to the wounded. Some had their eyes wide open as bandages were placed on gashes and stumped limbs.

The atmosphere was thick with a tragedy no one wanted to speak about. Sir Atticus and Marcus opened their doors. I hesitated but followed suit. My boots squelched in the blood-drenched soil while Sir Atticus got to work immediately. When the truck stopped behind us, he ordered the men to share supplies. Marcus began to walk around the parameter of the convoy, his sniper ready for action. I was just so stunned by the sight in front of me I didn't move. The small huts had claw marks dragged around it, and some huts roofs were still smouldering. I didn't want to walk for the sound of the squelching earth.

"First time you've seen death?" a voice said beside me. I jumped around to see the boy who had stood by my door. Though his shaven hair was silver, his eyes were a leaf green. It was the last sign of something human about him. I took a step back, not entirely sure whether I was allowed to talk to him. Still, my eyes couldn't help but gaze down on his warp skin. He noticed what I was looking at and put out a hand to show me. It wasn't much, only the palms of his hands, some of his fingers appeared normal. "The price we pay for our survival," he said. His sentences were straightforward, but dull, like what he was saying was obvious to him. I couldn't find my voice so just nodded.

"Sara," Sir Atticus shouted from the truck. I jumped to attention and, without saying goodbye, rushed over to the back of the truck. The men were still unloading crates of supplies. Sir Iris had already headed over with some medical supplies and was handing them out to the witch doctors. It was odd as all the rumours you heard about witches made them seem like savages, hunting each other down like beasts. But here, I saw families, doctors, and just people, people who had chosen a different life from the Divine. Sir Otto examined a crate of food and getting Virgil to watch his back. It was clear Virgil was taking this seriously. He didn't even give me a sarcastic glance as I walked past.