The Bane of Light

Entombment

"I am quiet, I bury no one, blood is drying beneath my nails. I do not know which me it belongs to"—Julian Randall, The Breakbeat Poets.

∞

I burst into a wild spring, chucking my shoes off as they inhibited my speed. My legs pumped as I desperately made my way through the debris and rubble, my breath hot in my burning legs. I passed everything in a flurry, my eyes scanning for any sign of Paris. The wall had caved in, large chunks ripping from the ancient ceiling's. An entire chandelier was smashed to bits in the far corner, littering diamonds and glass all throughout the room. Still no sign of Paris.

"Paris!" I screamed out as I ran, refusing to slow down. My ivory dress swished at my legs, the silk material rising up to my thighs from the speed I was flying through the rooms with.

"Paris!" I shouted out again, trying to pull at my shadows and detect him. Nothing. I had no energy to call my shadows with. My body was drained and even the absolute, undiluted horror I was feeling at this moment was not enough to resurrect them. Bile rose to my throat as the panic increased in tenfold. The realization that I was completely alone, made my entire body chill. I was all alone. My lips and nose were frozen as they involuntarily quivered, my bare feet jumping through the chunks of cement that had collapsed to the ground.

"PARIS" I screamed out, holding the wall for support as I felt my way down the hall. He had to be here. He had to be here. This was where the most damage was. I first saw the slashes and claw marks in the chunks of cement. Cement that was meant to be impenetrable. And then my eyes hooked on the tiny, nearly unnoticeable splatters of crimson, all in a consecutive line, trailing down the hall way. Whatever collapsed, whatever fell through the wall, was here. Where Paris was. Where Paris had been. I could see nothing of him now.

I couldn't stop myself from physically gagging, bringing up a trembling fist to my mouth and biting down, attempting to keep myself from crying out. I mashed my dust covered hand hard against my lips and teeth, desperate to choke down any noise. It would hear me if I made any noise. It probably could already hear me by my heavy breathing, raspy and unfulfilling as I continued to hyperventilate. Something was lodged in my throat, preventing me from inhaling a proper lung-full of air.

My entire body shook as I jumped down from the elevated slabs of stone, beginning in a run again as I found the stable ground. I couldn't breathe. Oh Gods, I couldn't breathe.

This was so bad. This was so bad. I was down here with no knife, with no protection, barefoot in a ruined silk dress as the soles of my feet bled. I was bleeding, and if it had finished Paris off already, it would come to me next. My witch blood was leading it straight to me. The terrifying fact failed to stop me as red footprints scaled the room in my wake. The patter of my bare, bloody feet was the only audible sound in the hall, alongside my muffled sobs.

I shoved over boulders and slabs of stone looking for Paris, my mouth desperately whispering his name over and over again, as if trying to manifest him. I tried to breathe but each of my gasps were coming out more and more haggard, hysterical whimpers emitting from my throat, sounding like they belonged more to an injured animal than a human. Strands of undone hair flew in and out of my face with each of my pants, my hands shaking as I unearthed another slab of stone.

The trail of blood had stopped a while ago, and I could see no claw marks indentured in the wall, meaning the demon had also stopped its pursuit of Paris at this spot in the hall. My eyes scanned the scene of rubble, desperate for any clue, but found nothing. It was the same rubble and destruction that adorned the rest of the corridor.

My heart leapt out of my throat when a glint of gold caught my eye. My entire body tensed at the disturbance in the scene, expecting the demon to jump at me from all directions. My eyesight blacked over in panic, and I could comprehend nothing, do nothing, besides crouch down with my arms up, attempting to cover my neck and head-- my most vulnerable body parts. When nothing attacked me after several excruciating seconds, I slowly lowered my arms, breathing heavy. My chest was convulsing with each breath.