Dying Light

Chapter 20

Five men marched forward, all with determination. Rick had stayed at the camp, leading the small refugee center.

It had transformed into more of a small town, or settlement than a refugee camp. Men and woman began to sell and buy items, but didn't forget the horrors lying right outside their walls.

Rick knew it, and so did Grant Smith. Grant lead the five men, leaving three under his command, and Marcio his companion. He used a Rapier, new technology made in Spain. It was a secreat weapon, and from Grant' s understanding, made to peirce armor.

The men readied their weapons as they walked through the feild. They walked with a stealthy nature, hoping the sound of their moving armor not give them away. They came to a cliff's edge as they looked bellow.

The land mass had been altered, a giant bonfire had been made, preparations made. They were ready for them. The hollowed dead, the sin, covered the grounds. Grant and his men could just climb down but the earth wasn't sturdy, and it would certainly end in at least a death or two.

"We go around." Grant said staying low.

All the men nodded their helmed heads. They followed Grant as they made their way towards the entrance. They leaped from a four foot drop, slamming their swords into the sentries. Battle had erupted, the men fought other fallen knights, and even deformed and twisted creatures, once men or women.

Grant lead the party forward, fighting their way through the small fort. The behemoth could be seen. Bronze armor laid across its body, and a red ragged cap fell to its knees. A sword the length of its arm laid on the monster's shoulder. The twelve foot behemoth was a force to be reckoned with.

They tired men were full of blood stained armor, leaving the behemoth their last threat. The monster swung its arm back, as the men held up their shields. Grant watched the swift blade slash into two men, cutting them in half. The long blade had cut cleanly through their shields. The cape flying through the air as he moved sluggishly. Grant charged forward slamming his sword into its hip. The blade went through the armor, drawing blood. The sword came back, but too late to catch Grant's nimble movement. Sir Smith knew that one blow would end him.

The remaining man slammed his sword into the behemoth'a back. The giant figure reached back like lighting. Its hand crushed the man's skull as it brought him inform of him, and slammed him on the ground. The slow blade came sluggishly up, before plummeting down to the poor soul's demise. The man wailed and nashed his teeth full of blood, as he laid pinned to the ground.

Grant and Marcio were the only two left, seeing the horrors of the Behemoth's work. Marcio slammed his rapier into the helmet of the enemy, the head recoiling in pain. the flat if the long blade came back sending Marcio flying. Grant took his chance leaping forward and driving his blade through the monster's skull. The helmet the demon wore split, along with its head, as if it were a peanut shell.

The once blazing bonfire instantly scattered in the wind, flames dissipating as it was carried. Nothing was left but cold ash. Grant looked back at Marcio running to his side. The man rubbed his bleeding head the blood smearing all over his fingers. The blonde man moaned a bit as he looked at Grant.

"Good fight, how many more bonfires must go out?" Marcio asked.

"They didn't say, and we don't know where they are." Grant replied, taking off his Elmer and wiping his mouth.

Both men were wet with sweat. The place they stood was hotter than the sun, excluding the intensive battle that just took place.

"Perhaps the blonde one know" Marcio replied after a pause.

"She knew about the first one I put out." Grant said, with slight tone of hope.

"Ah, she knows, I grantee it!" Marcio replied.

Grant helped the man move, after returning the Spanish abassader's rapier to his hands. Both made haste, taking the afternoon to walk back to camp. Marcio had been injured from the blow of the Behemoth, a fracture rib at most, something that would heal within a week's end with the potions given to Grant by Henry. The knight wondered from time to time how Mr. Jones was doing. When this was all over, if it ever would be, he would fulfill his promise, as he had told him months ago.

The sun had finally finished it's morbid sunset when the two arrived back at the barracks. Grant walked forward towards Ruth.

The blonde woman had been publicly humiliated. She had been tied to a stake and called a witch in front of all the men and woman, than food was thrown at her. Grant couldn't feel sorry for her, he was to angry.

Grant folded both his hand behind his back, as Marcio looked for Rick to give the details of their battle. Sir Smith looked at the ground as he asked his question.

"How many bonfires are there, Ruth?"

"Will you finally kill me if I tell you?"

"Is that what you wish?" Grabt inquired.

"Indeed, I grow warry of this life"

Grant nearly lost it, his insides were boiling with frustration and anger. She had caused a world they all had to live in, but wanted to leave herself? It wasn't fair.

"Very well, tell me where, when the location is confirmed i'll decapitate you." Grant replied calmly.

"The throne room. Once you quench the three flames, you must take your seat at the throne."

"Very well, we'll have it discovered." Grant replied

He turned around taking two steps before slashing behind him, turning her head and body into two separate entities.