Chapter 100: Chapter 90 – Learning to crawl and the voices

That day was still clear to him. The feeling of sand pouring into his bloody wounds while he crawled through the sand. His left arm was broken and mangled. Behind him lay the body of a dead Desert Crawler. If it was not for the mask upon his face telling him the quickest root to kill the beast, there was little doubt he would have died.

 

Wrench glanced over his shoulder to Charlie. Those who do not know pain, are not worthy to know power.  

 

“WAIT!” Charlie screamed, “YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” Charlie roared.

 

Again, the emerald eyes shook Wrench, yet he dared not to look behind him.

 

“Learn the struggle, and crawl,” his cold, hellish voice said, “with the absence of pain, whatever power you learn could easily corrupt. Without pain, there is no power,”

 

“W…Why are you doing this!” Charlie again roared, but this time his roar was a little dulled as he felt sand squeezing into the cuts of his legs.

 

“My family were shot and killed in front of me. Splattered in their blood, I sprinted into the desert. Here I fell, but not to the sand. A desert crawler had leapt onto me. It ripped off my arm, and with what strength my younger self had left I killed it. If you are to fight like me, first you need to think like me, and to do that you need to suffer like me,”

 

“There is no glory without pain,” Charlie panted, staring down into the sand.

 

Wrench continued to walk, just keeping ahead in the blue mist. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he pulled out one of his seals. Placing it onto his chest, he watched as a blue shimmer fell over his body. Within seconds he had disappeared.

 

“I have one of four watches. Two of which are broken, and one of which belongs to my master. I have this one. It allows me to pause time for up to a month. Let me put this into some words you will understand. I trade the time within that watch for a time in the real world. The other two broken watches are watches in which I have used up all that paused time. If you die here, I can hide your body, kill your friends, and erase your memory from this world,” Wrench’s words sent shivers down his spine.

 

Again, their emerald eyes of Charlie shook him. A smirk came over his lips. A spark was lit. All that was needed now was for the boy to fan it into a flame.

 

“Y…You monster,” Charlie muttered as he stared at him.

 

“You say you want power, don’t you? Do you want to live? Do you want those around you to live? Then fight for them to do so,” even though Charlie could not see the man, his voice echoed around him within the dome of blue mist. Tears flooded Charlie’s eyes. He was going to die. Glancing at his legs, he saw the skin had been healed by Wrench. Yet his legs were still broken.

 

This man, no, it is better called a thing was the embodiment of sadism. Still, though, his words resonated something within the broken boy. Placing his face against the sand, Charlie slowed his breath. Ok, alright, to do this he was going to die. Closing his eyes, he began to focus. For a while, he lay in silence, all until he felt the pain in his legs begin to dull.

 

Well, it was less the pain dulling and more that he was now adapting mentally to the pain. How far was it had to go? No, Wrench hadn’t said. Using his arms, he lifted his front. There was little to no upper body strength on him, yet he was just able to keep himself steady. His arms wobbled as they tried to find a good standing in the sand upon his weak arms.

 

Taking in a deep breath, he began to move through the sand. Buckling from under him, his arms betrayed his trust as his face slammed against the sand. What was wrong with him? Was it the fear of death? The adrenaline causes his body to freeze. Pulling himself from the scorching sand, he again stared into the blue mist that surrounded him.

 

Digging his hands into the sand, he began to drag his corpse forward. Again, his arms betrayed him as he fell. This was insanity. Doing this again and again was pointless. If he was to fall each time, then what was to say he was even going to survive the night? An image entered his head. An image of a bed, upon which the Chiefess was curled.

 

Her tail wrapped around something, while Xasuyle, Felkouyope, Phukomeia, and Klipesia all sat around staring down into the fur.

 

“Fuck off and let me sleep!” A voice yelled from the fur, accompanied by a hand which waved away the women. Laughing, they all looked at each other, before their eyes landed on Klipesia. Licking her lips, she leapt into the air, before diving down into the fur.

 

“Oh, come girls, let out little hero sleep,” The warm voice of Nolkonoe said from the doorway.

 

Swiftly the fur of Chiefess’s tail unravelled. In this fur, Klipesia sat, a shoulder of a man in her mouth. The owner of said shoulder… was him. Smiling, he again fell against the sand. Of course. Whatever cursed God or Goddess that currently looked over him mocked him with the idea of such a bright and loving future.  

 

Constantly harassing him, irritating him as much as they could for their amusement, obnoxiously throwing themselves onto him so they could cover him in loving kisses and cuddles. It was an annoying nature of theirs, yet it showed that they were happy. And this twisted play in his mind showed him the future he desired more than any other.

 

Charlie’s eyes wandered to the sky. It was dark. Fuck, it was dark? How long had he been lying there? A cold chill fluttered over him, like the coldness of purgatory itself was teasing his coming death. Digging his hands into the sand, he continued to drag himself. For so long he dragged through the sand, his shirt and trousers began to rip against hidden stones and rocks buried in the sand.

 

This was not a fast or sudden process. For hours upon countless hours, he crawled. Once his shirt and trousers were shredded to nothing more than lines of fabrics, his skin was now exposed to the elements. Cuts and scars covered his face from his arms consistently betraying him as they buckled and had him fall against the sand and rocks began to cut his chest and legs.

 

Not a part of him was speared as his hands began to bleed. Pulling himself through the sand, a smeared mark of blood trailed over where he had once been. With this growing tail of blood behind him, he felt something beneath his hand. Glancing his dry eyes downwards, he stared into a pool… Diving his face down, he felt the cool… no. Lifting his face, he saw the pool was gone.

 

Coughing, he spat out the dry sand. How long was it now? Staring towards the sky, he glared up at the sun that manipulated his mind in such a cruel fashion. Parting his lips, he went to place a curse upon the ball of demonic fire, yet no words passed his parched lips. Wrench, that bastard. That future he saw, was something that still lingered. A future he wanted more than anything else.

 

“But they treated you so poorly? They abused you?” A harsh voice whispered in his ear.

 

“I know,”

 

“Then why tolerate them? You are smart! You can destroy them from the inside out. Riddle their people with the holes of deception and lies!” the voice continued, yet Charlie stayed silent as he crawled.

 

“I know. They hurt me. Everyone in my life has. My mother used to make me, and my siblings run, all so she could try and make us stronger. When that didn’t work, she would beat us with an iron rod. My father taught us math and accounting, and the reason I excelled was only with the threat of being beaten to death lingering over my head.

 

“Then why put up with it? Kill them,” the voice rattled around his head.

 

“When?” Charlie muttered.

 

“What?” the voice responded.

 

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“When did I ask for your opinion?” There was a roar followed by a cackle as the voice began to dull.

 

“Your father killed me. And I have watched you from your birth. Through your very existence you have been living on the brink of death, so allow us to help you, and we can slaughter those who could cause you harm,”

 

“Never,” Charlie responded, “I… am not perfect. I am either too emotional or not emotional enough,”

 

“All thanks to your family giving you such a poor upbringing,”

 

“Yes, but that does not give me the merit to inflict the same harm upon others. I will only ever kill the ones I deem necessary,” Charlie responded, throwing his hands onto his head in an attempt to banish the voice.

 

“What is your ambition?” Another voice muttered.

 

“My ambition?” Charlie responded, this softer voice replacing that of the harsher one.

 

“Despite how others treat you?”

 

“You cannot change evil with evil, that is my resolve. As for my ambition. You showed me that,” Charlie said, making the assumption these voices must have shown him the images of his wanted future.

“Oh come on, let us take the boy now, and then purge this Desert of the scum who dare touch our body,” the vile voice said before the softer voice responded.

 

“Oh quite, amazons are naturally smug and brutal, so mixed with Desert Crawlers what else could you expect?” the voice snapped.

 

“More, I expected more. Especially from the creations birthed from one of my kind,” The deeper of the two voices argued.

 

“Well, she was half of your kind,” the calmer voice argued back.

 

“Oh, shove it, you were defeated by a human!”

 

“And you were tricked by one, now tell me what is worse?”

 

These voices… what were they? At first, Charlie thought these to be simple illusions summoned by lack of food or more importantly water. Alongside the sun assaulting him, he assumed it was simply causing him to go mad. Yet these voices talked in a way which he did not fathom. Was this the doing of Wrench?

 

“Shut up,” the voices for a moment quieted. 

 

“What?” the voices said in unison, their tones showing their mixture of interest and displeasure.

 

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” Charlie said, keeping his eyes forward as he continued to drag himself through the sand.

 

Before the voices again could stir in his mind, his hand fell. Without his legs to gain support, Charlie stared down into the dark hole. The light around him began to flicker and fade. Glancing behind him, saw the light of day flickering away into the distance. Only with his body turning as it hit a rock, and him then thumping onto the stone below did he then realise, he had fallen.

 

Cracking filled his ears as pain seized his left arm. Howling, he began to paint. Every breath caused more and more pain as he was now sure his arm was broken. Ok, ok. Compared to his legs, this was nowhere near as bad. Placing his right hand to his left shoulder, he began to feel down his arm. The shoulder felt tender, but still intact.

 

As his hand wandered down, pain shot through him like lightning. Yes, ok, that was broken. When falling, he must have raised his arm when he fell. Thanks to this, only his forearm was broken as it had absorbed most of the impact. Staring upwards, he looked at the whole above. The light poured down into this dip.

 

How far was that? Eight, ten, twelve feet? Putting his head back onto the stone, his scenes were so dulled that even the feeling of pincers digging into his leg barely registered with his mind. Now feeling the trickle of blood, Charlie tried to leap back, only for his broken body to cause him to simply flop. A hiss came from down at his legs. Using his one good arm to lift himself, he saw a large, red body on his legs.

 

Its pincer was raised high into the air as it snapped its claws. Retreating at his sudden movements, it gave Charlie just enough time to grab a rock and drag himself away. Dragging himself up and turning to the beast, he stared down at the scorpion. Staring at the small creature, he then looked around his surroundings. Bones. Bones littered this place. Death was the only word that filled Charlie’s mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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