They kept walking through the forest. Their boots crunching against stone and soil that was influenced by the battle. This part of the forest was not destroyed but just suffered some shockwaves.
The air still stank of smoke and ozone, a bitter reminder of what had just happened.
Arty moved in silence, her steps steady but her face twisted in a constant grimace.
Her hands trembled at her sides as though she was fighting something deep inside. She was trying desperately to remember what she had seen in that terrifying moment when everything went dark.
And then it came to her in flashes. She had seen her skin turn. She remembered her own skin blistering, rotting, covered in pus that oozed and cracked. She saw herself melting into something foul, disgusting, and inhuman.
She also remembered being punched repeatedly by that boy. But that is much more trivial than the others.
The image was so vivid it made her stomach twist.
