@PLGuy Thanks for checking it out. I started this when I was fifteen. Haha!
Chapter 136 – Lysem II
, waiting to grab him. Lysem ducked under his hold and elbowed his chest away before pulling his blast gun and jamming its barrel into his head, knocking him out.
He grunted.
He made a run for it, almost sure that there’ll be a crowd of madmen chasing after him. He looked back-
Yes. Yes. Yes.
The ground was barren with a mix of orange and brown. Dust was swept up as Lysem ran, looking back every twenty steps or so. The bearded man was definitely catching up to him.
The village looked a lot like Klensburg. He had been there before, in search for a client that never appeared. The buildings were a colour of cream, but it had shut windows and dimmed lights that screamed at Lysem to stay away. Faces appeared as soon as they disappeared, only to see what the ruckus was all about. There weren’t faces in Klensburg. I guess it’s a more welcoming sight than monsters. He frowned.
What do they want from me?
He could feel the bearded man’s hands on him, so he turned and jabbed his blast gun at his chin. He could almost burst in laughter, realising how close Lysem was.
“Move, and he dies.” He didn’t even let him swallow saliva. His eyes darted slightly to the right. “You all know what this thing is, don’t you?”
He scanned the area. There were more of the same, ubiquitous buildings surrounding him. And indeed. There was a crowd of madmen with literal torches and pitchforks, most of which were baring their teeth in either anger or insanity, and Lysem didn’t know which.
Lysem could see the man’s arms rising, ever so slowly. He thrusted the blast gun forward, choking and forcing him back. The crowd jerked forward-
“I said,” he shouted sternly. “Move. And. He. Dies.” The crowd looked softened
He gagged and coughed, covering his throat with his hands as he did only before the blast gun was placed back on the same spot.
“Now,” Lysem said. “I’m going to bring him with me until I can barely see you. Then I’m going to release him. He’s going to go back without harm. Got it?”
He caught a glimpse of the bartender appearing from within the crowd before Lysem saw the man’s hands on the blast gun. No-
It was all slow in his mind. His fingers flexed ever so slightly, and he fired.
High-pitched screams of children from inside the houses cracked at Lysem’s ears, and blood sprayed from where the man’s beard was. Lysem muttered, angrier than scared. “WHY GRAB MY GUN, YOU LUNATIC.”
Lysem, everything still slow to him, noticed the mother and her child, both of their faces contorting into a mixture of outrage and misery. Of all the other men-
The mother screamed, sucking Lysem back into real-time. The crowd charged.
And Lysem ran.
And will always run from this guilt.