Dying Light

Chapter 19

"It's the only way." The witch smiled.

Was he rallying going to kill a man to speak to the undead? This was outrageous, Grant had killed before, but in cold blood? He held the poor soul's shoulder as the man was strapped to the ground. No one liked this, and they were probably not even going to get any information.

"Well?" Ruth smiled.

Grant thought back to how this came to be.

It had all started earlier that morning. Ruth had revealed through hours of torture, that only Jessica knew how to stop the apocalypse, the red death. Rick had gotten it out of her. Grant couldn't do such hot ride task. As much as he hated witches, he could torture a soul.

He knew he was the only one Jessica would talk to, the witch whom he decapitated. He could still picture her head rolling on the ground. He found no pleasure in killing even the wicked witches. Why him? Was this a test, like Abraham and Isaac?

He knew it was either this poor soul, or the world. He had no choice.

Grant looked up, knights staring at him, the ambassador from Spain twisting his blonde mustache.

Grant had met the young ambassador earlier that morning. Lord Francis Marcio, a noble who came to speak peace with England. He had a thick ascent, long blonde hair and a French moustache, curling back towards his nose. A small patch of facial hair grew in the shape of a triangle bellow his lip. He carried a rapier, a newly invented sword, and claimed himself a fencer.

Grant turned his eyes back to his hand holding the knife, Marcio's glance being stern. His life was also on the line. Grant closed his eyes. He was going to do it. It was this or death. He thrust the dagger in hand into the man's heart. The necromanic circle beginning to glow with the innocent's blood.

Grant could feel the hole in his chest, he had killed an innocent man. A small whisp of black smoke rose, swerling around around Grant' s hand and than body. Until it engulfed him in darkness.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the man whom killed me, welcome Grant." Jessica smiled.

The nasty brown hair the pretty lady had suited her personality, along with the Hell fire. He hated the sight if her.

"How do I stop this." Grant asked.

"You won't, and you're the only one who can." She smiled wickedly.

"I can prove you wrong, oh ye wicked one!"

"Grant Smith, you will die. You will then join me here. If I tell you, it will just happen sooner." The woman was antagonizing him.

"Thats not what I asked."

"Oh I know Grant. But my lord, do ye really want to know?"

"Witch, tell me at once." Grant said, frustration rising to his voice.

"Fine, I'll tell you," The witch rolled her eyes, "You have to put out the bonfires."

"Bonfires? Explain." Grant said.

"Four bonfires, only the man who can douse one, can douse the rest. There are three left. You doused the first. But I speak too much." She replied with a giggle.

"No, tell me more!" Grant yelled.

"Bye knight, I'll see you soon."

"No!" Grant yelled slamming his fist into the ground.

The black mist faded away as all started his way. Grant stood up walking towards Rick.

"We have to kill the Behemoth."