"Citizens of Krysai, are you aware of the power of the gods? Do you know what your nobles do behind closed doors? Are you aware of your own damnation? Tomorrow, this city will experience horrors like never before--and no one is leaving alive."
The words of the High Priest echo around the stony space; the droplets of the rain pound out his speech word by word. A clock ticks above my head and slowly counts down the seconds to my death. "It's only a matter of time," I whisper to myself, pacing in the small, barricaded space that has become my living space. It used to just be my hallway, but now it's my bedroom, my living room, my kitchen--my safe space. Thunder booms ahead, and a flash of lightning illuminates the space through a window at the end of the corridor.
"Before me, I call King Hysane. Kneel down and face your subjects; let them see your face as I make you the first sacrifice. Would you like to confess to your sins?"
Curiosity draws me close to the window. I already know the dangers of going outside; the deep red marks on my arm sting just at the memory. Still, I need to look outside and see the city again, as dreadful as it has become. Lightning cracks right as I look out, and I gaze upon the jagged, twisted form of the Celestial Tree--or the corpse of it, at least. Somehow, that scene seems more horrific than the dozens of dead bodies laying in the streets, the dark forms slithering through the shadows, or even the abyss that has become the sky. Gods, please--help us.
"There is no use in praying to the gods now; you have wronged them. They have scorned you, as you scorned them, and now they cannot reach this place. You are as removed from the gods as you are from the clouds above."
They can't help us now. I squeeze my eyes shut against the barrage of tears. Something softly thuds against the window, and I freeze. Another thud. My heart pounds in my chest; I tremble just at the noises alone. Something leisurely scrapes down the window, almost gently; a soft, bubbling noise like a soothing fountain barely raises over the sound of rain beating against the stone of our city--our hell. A choked sob escapes me as my clock begins to tick down much faster.
"You have invited demons into your city; you have bred with these abominations. You have the thick, black blood of sin running through your veins, and you have the audacity to curse the gods for trying to cleanse you?"
Trying to gather what little courage remains, I attempt to pry my eyes open because I need to run away. Chest heaving, I fight against every instinct in my body and yank my eyelids open; on the other side of the window, a shadowy figure stands, pressed to the glass and thirstily staring inside at my quaking form. Glowing white eyes stare deep into my own, but their glow is cold, starved, ruthless. Lightning streaks across the sky in webs, flashing randomly in crackling patterns as if the sky itself has lost control, and it casts a harsh light onto the twisted, gruesome form on the other side of the too-thin glass. I scream.
"The gods are not doing anything to you that you have not done to yourselves; they are just letting the dam break so it all floods in, like it has been straining to for years now."
Terror chains me to the stone floor for seconds more as I drink in every detail of what stands before me--teeth gnashing, claws scraping, flesh twitching. A low rumble shakes me out of my stupor; I twirl around and almost slip on the floor, slick from the water that seems to seep in everywhere. Adrenaline-laden blood rushes through my veins as I scramble to tear the boards haphazardly nailed across the doorway leading out of this hallway--my prison.
"I call Lord Ireine before me as the second sacrifice for the gods. Would you like to confess to your sins before your blood rains down upon the Celestial Tree?"
Images flash through my head as the glass shatters behind me, and I hurriedly duck under the small space left by the boards. The stone floor scrapes against my skin as I throw myself into the living room; I hear the soft bubbling sound again from the monster. Blinking away tears, I throw random things back against the boards to try and block its way before rushing to the stairs; I need to escape. The seconds on the clock tick down with the rain; every droplet pounding against the stone symbolizes a second off my life.
"Ah, the beloved Cerien. Come step up. Would you like to stare into the eyes of the gathered people and explain to them how willingly you spread your legs for the demons? Or should I demonstrate for them how quickly you melted under their slimy touch? Look! She bears the marks of the beasts along her thighs."
The soft bubbling turns into a gurgled sort of screaming, which resonates through my body and makes my teeth hum. Clawing at my jaw, I stumble but continue lurching up the stairs; the sound pierces my brain and vibrates the very center of my being. Shaking my head, I duck through a doorway and slam the thick wood shut, which muffles the sound enough for me to think properly again. Collapsing, I pant for breath that won't come and just try to focus on anything but the rain and the thunder.
"Ryzain, I call upon you to step forth. Offer your arm to me--hold still, boy. Do you see how his blood flows thick? Do you see how the leaves shrivel upon its touch? Can you see the sin tainting his veins? An abomination--don't scream. I am merely saving you the trouble of dying later."
Before I can recover fully, an ear-piercing shriek rattles the stone. Memories flash through my head--hordes of them descending upon helpless, writhing bodies. Scrambling to my feet, I stumble, unable to get my balance. Warmth drips down from my ears, and the world spins around me as I climb further up. I lose track of the seconds ticking down in my head; the pounding of the rain has only become a crackling static. Claws catch my shoe as soon as I reach the top step of the stairs; though I scream, I cannot hear myself. The gods can't hear me, either.
"Citizens of Kyrsai, I stand before you today to warn you of the horrors about to descend upon you, but I will not suffer with you. You can repent, but the gods will not hear you. I give myself up as the third sacrifice to the gods; with me goes any last connection you have to the gods."
Noises burst forth from my lips, but I can't hear anything except for a dull roar and the sound of the High Priest's body hitting the stony ground. I know that monsters swarm behind me; their claws occasionally reach out and tear my tender flesh open. Blood pours out of me, but I keep going, stumbling to the open doorway into the abyss of rain. Lightning flashes and illuminates the slick walkway; it's dark with blood. Somehow, I manage to reach the walkway and turn around to stare at death in its glowing eyes. They crowd the doorway and stare at me, a mass of gnashing teeth and scraping claws and twitching flesh. As I adjust my weight, my foot slips in the blood of some unknown victim; I tumble off the walkway and down to my certain doom. Lightning flashes one last time; I see nothing but the abyss.
"The gods cannot reach you now."
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