At the moment, I'm trying to finish up my horror collection to release something once again, but I really didn't want to spend all my time on it. But I also didn't want to write the next iteration of Loop before I could fully concentrate on the story. So I did something different and simply wrote the next chapter of a Decaying World! That was only possible because it was so short, though. The next chapters will most likebly be longer, although not as long as the final chapters of the first half. At least not at first.
Chapter 14: Across the Sea
Somewhere, in the middle of the ocean, a small vessel was trapped within the grasp of nature. The wind howled like a banshee, swooping down onto the ship, spurring on the ocean. Gargantuan waves crashed against wood, pulling and pushing it in every direction. It creaked and groaned and burst apart, not able to withstand the nature of this storm.
Barely visible figures scuttled across the planks, running and jumping and slipping, doing their best to keep what was left of their transport afloat. But it was a battle they couldn't win. What crew they had was either trapped below deck or had already met the kings of the underworld. Only a handful were still participating in their futile struggle.
A lightning bolt emerged from the cloud that was following them—a cloud so dark that it rivaled the night sky—and it ripped through the main mast, nearly toppling it over. The lone sailor who had held his position in the crow's nest screamed in terror, but it was too late. He was grabbed by a gust of wind so strong that it might as well have been the hand of a titan, and was plunged into the depths, certain to meet the planks head-on.
Cat-like eyes fell upon his flesh, alerted by his screams, and a blurry figure jumped into the sky, catching him moments before his rendezvous with death and laying him to rest in a corner from where he wouldn't meet his end, at least for the next few seconds.
“T-t-t-t-t-thank you ….” stammered the man, but his savior had already disappeared.
Another lightning bolt cut through the main mast, snapping it in half. It cracked and lurched, slowly descending onto deck, but two people sped below where it would fall, raising their swords into the air.
A snake made of light and darkness coiled itself around the mast's wood, embracing it like a lover, then destroying it with the force of a supernova. A hole was blown into the deck, but the damage was acceptable. Having a spear made of wood crash into it would have resulted in the imminent destruction of the vessel.
“Are we anywhere near the continent?” yelled Maximilian over the raging storm, swallowing raindrops that burned in his throat.
“I didn't see anything the last time I checked,” replied Drake, shielding his face from the onslaught of the chaos. “I'll have another look, as long as we still have a mast left.”
Then he jumped into the air and grabbed onto the ladder placed on the outside of the mast. Under normal circumstances, he might have been able to jump all the way to the top, but he hadn't regained his full strength since the destruction of Arlington. And there was no telling where the storm would have pushed the ship by the time he would have arrived at the top.
They'd been in the middle of nowhere for more than a month now—a journey that they began about a week after his encounter with Assar. Most of the trip had been a breeze, until bad memories came surging back to haunt the vampire. The storm that was chasing them was the same that had destroyed his hometown, that had taken his girlfriend from him. It might have been acting its part this time, but a mere glimpse was all it took for Drake to see through the charade. If they stopped for even a moment, time would come to a halt, then loop, then end forever. And if he was trapped within, then everything was lost.
“Fucking liar! You said you'd give me time!” grumbled Drake through gritted teeth while he ascended the final rungs.
The ship groaned and screamed once more, precariously falling, almost toppling over. The vampire stumbled sideways, nearly vacating his vantage point the moment he had reached it. Only his strong grip made him keep his position. Not that falling would have mattered. When he peered into the distance, there was nothing to be seen. Just an endless chaos of waves, all of which were focused on their vessel, no matter how little sense their movement made.
Gazing down, he saw Feyadal wrestling with the steering wheel. They'd lost the captain right at the start, had to watch him get burned to ash, and lightning had struck that same spot on a multitude of occasions since then. I'm surprised the wheel itself hasn't been destroyed yet. Are you still toying with me, Assar? Why not get it over with?
A demonic scream filled the air, and a gust of wind as powerful as a hammer slammed into Drake's vantage point, hurtling him backwards and onto the planks, exactly the way he had fallen from Modera's tower after his fateful encounter.