Dying Light

Chapter 14

The sword held the pressure of the two-hundred pound man. He watched as the knight circled around.

"One swoop. All it takes. You'll die vampire."

Grant was silent to his remarks as Ruth held her mouth in suprised, her cheeks still wet from crying just seconds ago.

"No words to say?" the vengeful knight said with venom.

"Did you just leave the men and children for dead?" Grant queried softly.

"They can die for what I care. It's not like we can stop this Hell we are living in. We should embrace it, the darkness is a man's original state."

Grant stayed quite as the vengeful brother rambled on. Grant wasn't in the mood, he was hoping he would get cold feet, or bored. He wanted the man to walk away, he knew he wasn't the enemy.

"And that's why you are going to die." The brother said with bitterness. He kicked the dead werewolf's body on the ground.

"That was another easy one." Grant commented.

"I can see that." The vengeful man said with pity,"looks like it hurts."

"Just walk away. I don't want to kill you." Grant replied, "Or come at me, i'm sick of waiting, make a choice."

The knight charged forward sword in the air. Grant cussed under his breathe, as he swung his sword around blocking the attack. The dull shock of the blow made his whole body ache, as he blocked the blow with the sword still in its sheath. Grant countered by kicking the man's abdomen.

The man stumbled back attack half-heartedly stab towards Sir Smith's face. He pushed through his pain dodging just in time. Grant grabbed the blade of his opponent's sword. Using a disarming method taught to him, he took his enemies blade.

The raged filled knight was left weaponless and exposed as Grant used the hilt of the blade to smash in the enemy's head. The man staggered at the blow as Grant smacked again. The hit deformed the helmet even more, knocking the man to the ground, covering his head from more blows.

Grant dropped the blade, using his own to thrust it into the flesh if his enemy. The blade went under his pit, and came out throughout his armor on his right shoulder. Ruth screeched as she watched one man kill the other.

The blood pooled out on the chapel floor. Grant's wet blade only confirmed Ruth's nightmarish thoughts. Grant took the sword out of ythe fidgeting body.

Ruth was shocked, her breathe taken away from her. Grant looked over to the blonde woman, worry striking his eyes. He rushed dropping the sword in hand, unsheathed and on the ground.

"My lady, beath thee alright?"

Ruth didn't reply. The blonde woman simple stood there, her hand covering her open mouth. She blinked, as Grant placed his hand on her shoulder.

"My lady? Ruth?."

Ruth swallowed as she looked to Grant's eyes. She sniffled as she closed her mouth, wiggled her nose, and blinked again.

"Yeah, Sir. I am fine. No need for formality."

"Alright, ma'am."

Grant started walking forward towards the closed wooden doors. He placed his hand on the door as the blonde woman came behind him.

"Will you leave me here, sir knight?"

Grant turned to great her, be holding the woman's sad demeanor.

"I cannot stay. Wether I leave thee, or you stay in this church, you are unsafe."Grant said sternly, "I cannot protect thee out there, not properly, which is likely to get us both killed."

"Sir knight. May I not join you?" The woman said closing the gap between them.

"Nah." Grant replied, pushing the woman softy back with his hand, "Never the less, I cannot stop you from following me."

Grant didn't wait for a reply, and he didn't hear one, as he walked outside into Armageddon. The fog had cleared but the area was nearly pitch black. Grant looked back, the blonde woman creeping behind as he walked away. Grant sighed, he couldn't protect her.

It was only a few minuets after that Grant made it to his house. The silence deafening. The knight had snuck around the dead when given the chance, to avoiding a battle with his wounded body. He slowly creeped into his own residency, the blonde woman following closely behind him, her hand on his back.

"Elizabeth?" Grant whispered, "Elizabeth?"

Ruth glanced around, seeing if she could spot this "Elizabeth". She wasn't sure she wanted to.

"Stay here" Grant said, motioning his hand back.

Ruth followed his orders as Grant moved slowly and stealthily throughout his own house. He creeped on the creeking floor, moving his body side to side. He glanced around catching a quick glance of the wooden interior.

Grant sheathed his sword walking over to Ruth, "Welcome yourself as if it is home."

Ruth nodded as Grant walked up stairs. Ruth walked into the living room, a bear rug was lain across the floor. Red drapes hung from his well finished windows. The kitchen was huge, and a cook laid there dead, flies buzzing around him.

Grant walked into his nicely finished room, a king sized bed in his room with purple drapes over his bed. A lion's pelt was hanged on the wall. He remember killing the beast, the puncture mark on its skull. In Africa they gave him the pelt in his honor.

Ruth placed her hand over her mouth, the horrendous smell reaching her nose. She backed out into the dinning room area, were a silver chandelier hung from above. The candles hand not been light, and a portrait of Grant hung from the wall. Ruth went from horror to amazement, as she felt the dark stained wooden table.

Grant looked at his suit of armor smiling. He quickly armored himself. He grabbed his sword laying near a chest at the end of his bed. It was a fine blade, made by the North. It was a gift from Elizabeth, and the ruins on the blade read, "Faithkeeper", for the faith she had in him. He gave the blade a long look, before quickly strapping it across his waste. He picked up his hunting bow and swung arrows over his shoulders.

Ruth rubbed her hand against the smooth table. She moved back remember the horrors she had seen. She quickly rushed up the stairs.

"Grant!" Ruth called.

Grant walked out of his room, his face shaven, and hair combed. his helmet rested in his arm, and his right hand on his sword hilt.
From appearance the armor had been used quit a bit, and had seen many repairs, yet was polished as if anew.

"What's the matter?"Grant asked.

"The cook is dead!" Ruth said, rushing into his arms

Grant moved his arms to the side, unsure if he should embrace the young lady. He slowly placed his left hand on her back, patting her slowly.

Ruth pulled back swallowing before glancing into the tall, dark hansome man, "Thy cook lies dead."

"I knew Zachary was dead. For I surveyed the area."

Ruth wipped away her tears as the two walk down stairs. Grant turned quickly towards the his front door. A huge banging was heard at Grant's door. The thick wood with steel trim trembling at the force. Grant placed his helmet on his face, securing it as a giant war hammer slammed through his door.

"So it begins." Grant said, pushing Ruth behind him.