Split Blood: The Ancient Codex - Part One (Book #1 ) - COMPLETE

CHAPTER FIVE - FINDERS, KEEPERS (Part 2)

CHAPTER FIVE – FINDERS, KEEPERS

(Part 2)

<CLICK ON THE YOUTUBE VIDEO AT THE RIGHT HAND SIDE OF THIS PAGE WHILST READING THIS CHAPTER TO ENHANCE THE EXPERIENCE>

Sneaking out of the cave and walking into the unknown, I was dragging my heavy heart behind me.

Wondering why all these charms, stones and my own powers could not bring back the one person I needed the most now, I began to feel a sense of deep depression lap over me like waves on the shore. I didn’t care about my safety any more, as I weaved in and out of the clearings and the trees.

As though the heavens were trying to wash away my grief, it began to rain, and then pour; my clothes increased the burden of my arduous journey as I struggled with their extra wet load.

Clambering over large, wet tree trunks and rocks, and through thorn-infested bushes, I felt lost. My vision became distorted by the rain. The trees groaned as they tried everything in their power to block my path. I remembered the stories my mother used to tell me to warn me about going into the woods alone.

At the time, I wondered if she told me these stories to quash any ideas of running away or staying out past my curfew. I knew, now, that the stories were, indeed, real.

‘The woods are alive, Faith. You need to respect their domain, otherwise terrible things can happen there,’ she used to warn.

All the witches had told me, too, that the forest is alive and the trees can communicate with one another. They share stories of their history, what they’ve seen or experienced, and the ones they’ve lost. As dusk approaches they somehow create an air of intoxicating utopia as soon as you enter; they lure you further in, to indulge in more of the happy atmosphere.

You can hear the underlying hum of their conversations. The vibrations of ecstasy infect the streams, dancing around the rocks and land it drifts alongside.

The animals become at one with each other, lending a hand in all their daily chores and undertaking the day-to-day maintenance of the forest. The nearby covens also help the animals. For this, they are rewarded by the forest. They are afforded a certain section of the wood to perform their rituals and ceremonies, however, should one droplet of blood fall onto the forest floor, the air changes. The happy aura suddenly disappears; the forest becomes sick and needs to immediately release its toxicity.

Only the leader of fairies can resolve such an issue, for fairies are pure magical beings, unable to cause bloodshed due to their naturally euphoric natures. This leader needs to have a pure heart (and nature) to be able to absorb and release the darkness that has tainted the forest, otherwise the gloom will consume the fairy leaving it struggling to fight the demonic demands it faces.

If the fairy fails, the forest falls into eternal darkness, and becomes inhabited by large toad-like creatures and oversized fauns who lurk in the shadows, ready to mislead unwanted magical travellers to the deepest sections of the woods, in order to absorb their powers and strengthen the new dark state of the damned forest.

Fearing the blood shed at the camp had infected these woods already, I continued my trek, constantly facing – and overcoming – the trees’ obstacles which threatened to slow me down.

I felt like I had been walking for hours. To help me find my way, I held my hand up to the sky.

The bracelet emitted bright colours like a rainbow and connected with a beaming white light in the distance. I followed this guiding light for ten minutes and was relieved to hear cars – this must have been the road Idony had told me about, somewhere in the distance.

Dragging my feet through the mud, I followed the road whilst staying hidden in the bushes. Eventually I came to the entrance of a small town. The rain clouded my vision as I tried to read the sign, but I could just make out: ‘Welcome to the Town of Mustus. Population 5,680’.

The rain began to teem down onto the cars parked outside the parade of shops at either side of the road as I wandered through the empty streets looking for shelter.

The only sign of life in this ghost town was a drunken couple, both laughing and stumbling out of a nearby pub.

‘Excuse me,’ I approached the pair, ‘Can you tell me where… AHHH!’ I shrieked as I fell to my knees clutching my stomach in agony.

The drunken woman quickly sobered up and knelt beside me, trying to understand the cause of my pain. ‘She’s pregnant. We need to get her to the hospital!’ she shouted to her inebriated partner as he flagged down a passing taxi and helped me in.

‘The hospital - QUICK!’ the man shouted. The taxi driver didn’t question us and sped off immediately. We got to the local hospital within ten minutes and, after trying to persuade the pair I just needed shelter, not a hospital, I gave in and allowed them to take me in.

The hospital lights were bright and sterile, highlighting the strain on my face. ‘She looks like she’s ready to give birth; she needs a doctor now!’ the woman shouted at a nervous-looking nurse.

My stomach thrashed around with ferocity as wounds began to appear, and I tried to disguise them with my coat. The defence wasn’t sufficient, and the blood spilt through, dripping onto the fall.

With every droplet came a new wave of intense pain and more piercing screams, which sent shock waves through the hospital, and drew the attention of a young doctor.

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