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Now reading: 093. Blood, 3 from Rose Blumen ~ Exogignesthai, a Drama novel by Lusshi.

(Rose)

I’m leaving the woods. I’m roughly heading north. It’s what I guess, from the previous day and the starts. I don’t know where they went. They have my book? Either that or it burnt. I shouldn’t stay here.

I see human scarecrows again.

Just below that hill. I walk to them this ti. I hear nothing. Is this them? Two bodies are crucified just there.

A burnt woman. I can’t tell if she was one of them... Her body looks like charred at. The other one is a man. Old. He has marks of claws over his body. So covered with blood and so without. He was already long dead then for these ones?

There are nails in his arms, hands, wrists, legs... Too much? I don’t get it... Why such torture?

I’ve lost blood. I feel weak. It’s more disturbing than scary to look at them now, but I can feel fear building up inside .

I don’t want to die.

Not here, not now, not like that! They’re still after us. I should run.

I see shapes coming out of the small woods. I realise that the true nightmare is resuming.

Run for your life, fool... I’m scared. I run away. My dress got caught on a nail and gets ripped further.

I run. Again. Again. And again.

The words lose their strength over ti and repetition. That fear do not. That genuine fear, is like a very cold blade pressed onto your skin. It never gets warm.

My taphors are la.

I can’t describe that strong fear filling my body, making run again as if it was always a new terror striking . I’m not getting used to it. It’s an overwhelming phobia pursuing . I can’t control it even through two nights of habits.

Even though I ate so little, I can still run. I feel lighter actually. But I’m dizzy. I lack blood...

I hear suddenly these strange screams, between beast and insect. Sothing of a cricket and high pitched feral howl.

There is no escape.

But I still try. I can hardly believe how far I’ve got next to the other passengers of my car.

It starts to rain. I’m not sure whether it’s a good or a bad thing. I fall off a bit further. There was a slide and a small stream again. My heels hurt.

I try to stand but my legs are shaling. A beast is after . A dog is running at . I grab the best rock I can find.

I’ve heard that if you hit the nose of a canine animal right, the bone breaks and kills it as it hurts the brain behind.

But I realise there is no way I can do that from the right front angle, it’ can’t be done.

I feel my heart beating so much faster as I set myself. I’ll fight for my life with only one hand...

It jumps at . I hit it. It bites my knees one after another. I scream, and hit it on the head again.

It suddenly bites my wrist and I drop the stone.

It hurts. Shit. My left hand grabs sothing else with all my remaining strength. I pull my left hand in front of as it jumps at my throat. It mites my already numb hand and the rock it holds.

The surge of pain is awful. It felt numb as long as there weren’t any fangs plunging inside the wounds.

My right hand tries to find a weakness on it but it’s so strong. The neck can’t be held, the ears are missing, the jaw is as hard as steel. I find the eye.

It moves and gnaw on my hand so more. I see the eye gleam. I grab it suddenly, plunging my fingers in the putrid flesh. I gouge it out.

I think it rips a bit of my flesh out that damn wolf. But now it screams and begin to flee.

Oh no you don’t you damn shit!

I jump on it with unexpected ease. My body is not that heavy. It can still move and bite. As long as I hold it, its head below my chest, its other eye is at hand. But both my arms I must use to hold it down.

I bite it off. It explodes in my mouth. The beast is weeping as I spit everything out.

All my nerves are on fire. There is so much pain all over my body that I scream too. Its claws scratched my legs to the blood. Now it scratches dirt too.

I push rocks inside its mouth. It’s spitting them. It tries to stand up again. I put all my weight on my right elbow and press its tummy. I slip. It goes away.

I can barely stand again. But it can barely walk away. It’s weeping as if crying. Well, I admit it must be in pain now. I’m still angry.

I stand. I’m bleeding all over. I will kill it, I don’t care.

I grab the rock. I reach it. I smash it wrong. It steps back. It bites my foot. I smash it right. It collapses. I smash it again and again. I yell at it. I curse it by all nas and smash its head off.

Go to hell. You can all go to hell. I will send you there myself one after another if you keep pushing to do so.

I spit at it. I kick it. I kick it again and again until the body is sowhere I can’t see.

I have surges of pain and ache all over my body, flesh and bones. I’m actually surprised I had this much energy left. Well, it left no choice...

I don’t really want to look at myself now however.

I drop the stone. I go to rinse myself in the cold stream. It still rains, but not enough. I see my left hand at last. What’s left of it... It pains to see that this diminished grotesque thing is still .

If scars give character, losing parts of your body surely does not...

I’ve lost about eight phalanges. And a piece of my palm too... I only have the nail from the thumb left. I’ve lost the four others. The flesh looks awful. I wrap it in a bit of cloth from my dress. It hurts and is numb altogether.

I’m bleeding from my knees, my other wrist, my legs, my elbows... I can’t count my wounds. But at least I sent that awful beast back where it belongs.

~

I walk away along the stream. I’m a few feet below the fields level. Maybe it’ll be quieter that way. I’m dozing off as I walk. Only the pain keeps awake as so kind of burn here and there, throbbing.

The night is quiet beside the rain and the stream. It would be almost a peaceful night, were I not in this poor shape now.

I walk. I only hear the rain.

I’m alone. I’m still a bit scared, but mostly in pain.

I’m alone. I wish I could go ho now.

I’m alone. I’m all alone. It’s night, cold and frightening.

I’m alone...

~

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