Dying Light

Chapter 12

The injured sir sat on a giant piece of rubble. The wind blew by as he tied his injury on his shoulder. Now both shoulders had been injured, though luckily, Grant didn't have any broken bones in his left arm from the blade.

The wind seemed to speak to the young knight like a voice of a beautiful woman; he knew anything he was hearing was in his head. Grant's injuries reminded him of Elizabeth, her worried eyes he could see. He knew he would just laugh and tell her he was fine. He couldn't wait to see her once again.

Once this was over Grant was going to marry her, have a few kids, and train his first born in knighthood. His father had died in battle, or he would not have been Rick's father's page. He wanted to pass on the Smith name as noble knights.

Grant looked towards the sky, forgetting the dead bodies covering the streets for a moment. The sun was still not there, Grant felt the sins of this world upon his shoulders, and the blood on his hands, for murdering the knights.

"God, forgive me. I do not deserve the name sir. I have killed my fellow brothers. Lord at first I was angered, but now I feel the only place I can turn is to thee. Will you not stand by me?" Grant prayed with his hands clutched together.

Grant slumped his head, was God even there to hear his call? He didn't have that luxury to know, at least not this day. He turned his head back, he knew he could take the people from the library with him and he knew they would die alone. They had seen the fight and were rightfully afraid of Sir Smith.

The knight sighed. He looked towards the church. The bells rang again, echoing through the city. Grant put his stained shirt over his body once more. He took the pauldrons from one of the dead knights placing it over his body. He would take what little protection he could get. He glanced at the unconscious knight lying on the stone cold ground.

Sir Smith sat up walking towards the man. He stopped at his feet, looking for a rope to tie him with. He turned his head from side to side looking for one. The first thing he noticed was the people walking back ever slowly. He sighed, as there still no rope to be seen.

He stooped next to a knight ripping his belt of from his waste, and repeated this until he had three belts. Grant proceeded, tying the unconscious knight with belts, and sitting him against the wall.

"Untie him once I'm gone".

Grant watched as they all looked at him, as if they didn't speak English. Grant cracked his neck. as he walked away.

His face was growing a small beard, he needed a good shave. He looked around the empty street as he wanderer along, expecting danger. His sword was out, and shield ready. He made it safely to the chapel, with only a couple of the undead to deal with, unarmed peasants from the looks of it.

Grant stopped at the Church's giant doors. The wood was from a strong oak tree, and staijed a nice origin-brown color. He gave it a few good hard knocks with the door knocker. The door swung open, revealing a man who stood a little bit higher then 5 ft off the ground. The balled monk trembled slightly, noticing Grant's face.

Grant guessed everyone knew his face, and in a infamous way. The news would travel fast about a noble knight being burned at the stake.

"Come in, come in." The monk said usher Grant through the door.

"Thank you, for your hospitality." Grant said gazing around the room.

Wooden pews of rows of eight were split into two half's of the room, stretching to fit sixty or more people. A red carpet lied on the floor covering the stone beneath it. Bricks covered the exterior as well as the interior for walls. A small pulpit was stashed on a stage, with the Bible laying across it.

"Well I am Brother Dail Dunh. And you I assume, are Grant?" The monk spoke as he watched Grant look over the church.

"Yes, I am Grant Smith, though I assure you my crimes were mistaken, Brother Dunh."

"Are not all crimes? Sir Smith, in this world we must except that Armageddon is among us, we will take all who will fight on God's side, now more then ever."

Grant looked back at the man, he didn't like him already, "You are the only one here?"

"Yes, Sir Smith, i am the only one, every day i ring the bell ever eight times a day, after every four hours."

"Why?" Grant asked turning his body around to meet the man.

"On the ring of midnight the Lord will come. That bell I just rang was the twelveth hour of the night. The way the sky is now though, it is hard to tell, it's as if it is in an eternal eclipse." Brother Dunh replied.

"Well, then where is the Lord?" Grant asked, opening his arms to both sides.

"It was never declared on which night, Sir Grant. I fined your lack of faith, disturbing and hurtful. Sure these are troubled times, but must you show such hatred to your creator? One who promises you a victory in the end?" Brother Dunh said with vigor.

"God has forsaken us." grant let his words trail off, " If there is a God."

"Those sins that walk out side, for that is what they are, men in a sinful state, they where taken because of their wickedness. The plague was sent by God to clean his foot stool, even the World. The dead, are nothing more than walking sin."

"Those Hollow human beings had nothing to do with sin!" Grant yelled back with frustration, "Why can't you see that."

"Men will see what they want to see. That's why I believe God will come when I ring the bells. What are men if they don't have faith?"

"It is only by the power of men, that this great country, is saved. England stands, because of men like me, willing to sacrifice their lives for worms like you, who preach their nonsense!"

"From a holy knight none the less! Is it not in thine code of Chivalry to believe in the All Mighty Himself?

Grant and Dail Dunh fell silent as a beautiful young woman approached from a door with in the church. She had long dark blonde hair, a small cute noise, with a perfect jaw line. She was the most beautiful woman, besides his one truly, that Grant had ever seen.

"Father, who comes and disturbs us at such an hour?" The woman asked calmly as she stepped forward.

"No one dear" Dunh replied.

As Brother Dunh was speaking Grant chirped in, "And you said no one was here."

Dail ignored Grant Smith, as he ushered his daughter to bed. The young woman was in his caring arms when a bang could be heard at the door. Grant looked with cautious eyes as the door splintered to pieces.

The knight didn't wait for a signal to draw his sword and shield, watching the beast crawling on all fours growling.

"Get back!" Grant yelled turning his head slightly to the side so Dail and his daughter could hear him.

Sir Smith didn't let his eyes leave the beast, for it was one of the most deadly.

A Werewolf.