Sezel's pulse increased, his heart pounding like a drum against his ribs. Sweat rolled down his temple, he slowly turned around to face a rotting visage—a zombie, its hollow eyes glinting, clutching his dislocated arm with a bony grip.
His heart did a nervous flutter-kick. He yanked forward, bracing his foot against a gnarled tree for leverage. His tattered sleeve, already on its last threads, gave up the ghost and tore, freeing him. He stumbled forward, his legs trembling like a newborn fawn, before breaking into what he hoped was a sprint.
Behind him, a Black Knight's sword flashed, and the zombie was sliced like cheese. At least their customer service is prompt.
He stumbled through the twisted trees, his body screaming a litany of complaints. He was pretty sure he was inventing new ways to be exhausted.
Can I outrun death itself in this hellish realm? Probably not, but it's the only exercise I'm getting.
As if on cue, the dog-like beast he'd fought earlier lunged from the shadows, clearly holding a grudge. It aimed for his left side, his useless, now-bare arm.
Sezel clicked his tongue, rolling down, and the beast sailed over him, landing with predatory grace, its maw gaping, jagged teeth flashing in the violet light.
Sprawling on the damp earth, Sezel crawled backward, the beast stalking him with a look that said, "We need to talk about your life choices."
His hand closed around a broken stick, its splintered edge a pathetic excuse for a weapon. Ah, my trusty stick. We meet again.
Sez halted, bracing the attack of the furious beast. The beast jumped, using his hand as a shield he stopped the beast, its claws digging into his flesh, seeping out blood.
Note to self: using your own arm as a chew toy is not an effective long-term strategy.
He gritted his teeth against the agony and kicked out, his foot connecting with the beast's groin. It squealed, a sound of pure shock and pain. Seizing the moment, he drove the stick into its neck, targeting the gash from his earlier pickaxe strike. The wood sank deep, and black blood spurted.
The beast stumbled back, shaking its head in agony.
Shit, these things don't die even after they're impaled directly in the neck.
Sezel scrambled back to his feet, sprinting again, but the beast didn't rest for long, it soon followed behind, and so did the Black Knights. His heart cursed the Spirit realm's cruelty, despair clawing at his resolve.
Fuck. This is bad.
Sezel lost his distance because of the beast, suddenly his legs tangled in a metallic chain, half-buried in the ashen soil, sending him tumbling. Pain shot through his ankle.
A chain? Seriously? What's next, a conveniently placed anvil? He seethed, glaring at the rusted links. Then, an idea, desperate and probably stupid, sparked in his mind.
The beast followed behind him, black blood dripping from the gash in its neck. Sezel stood right in front, facing it head-on with a metallic chain in his hand.
The mindless beast attacked again, consumed by fury and hunger, it lunged, baring its claws.
Sezel smiled, "Here is your present, bitch."
He turned aside and ran around the tree, the chain tightened and gripped the beast between the tree and itself, its legs bound in restraint.
Sezel pulled it with all his might, giving in all his weight. As the restraint tightened, the beast howled in pain. Soon, its legs broke, paralyzing it.
Sezel collapsed, gasping. "I... I won." For about five seconds.
The footsteps of the Black Knights grew closer. He pushed himself up, sparing a gaze at the beast whimpering in pain, its legs broken, unable to move.
"Sorry," he whispered. "I can't kill you, but they'll end your misery."
The Knights' blades flashed, beheading the creature in a single stroke. Sezel sprinted, not daring to look back.
The forest ended abruptly at the edge of a pond, its surface a black, liquid-like mass, still as death. What the hell is this? The Spirit Realm's premier tar pit? He dipped his hand in. Cold. Unnaturally viscous. Water?
A rustle in the bushes. Three Black Knights emerged. He was trapped. To his left and right, he could see the glint of countless eyes in the shadows.
I think, my run has ended. I'd like to thank my legs for their service. Even though i can't feel them.
He exhaled, his body trembling but his resolve firm. He raised his bloodied fist.
"I refuse to die without a fight," he roared.
In the distant clearing, the Mighty Black Knight King's laugh echoed, a grating cacophony, [This roach is interesting.]
Through the eyes of his knights, he watched, a god reveling in a mortal's futile struggle, enjoying it like an entertainment series unfolding live.
The battle started, and ended in just mere moments, of course, the outcome was clearer than anything else in this hellish realm.
Sezel sprawled on the ground, clutching his abdomen. He staggered to his feet. A Black Knight slashed. He twisted, but the blade carved through his dislocated arm, severing it completely.
Screaming in pain, he stumbled back, on the edge of the pond behind him, his face expressionless, his body felt numb.
PIERCE!
The sword of another Black Knight pierced through his chest in an instant like he was made of paper.
Sezel puked a glob of blood, he choked, blood gushing from the wound, crimson mingling with the black liquid below.
His vision dimmed, yet a smile curved his lips— Finally. The end.
A release from the Spirit Realm's torment. His body tipped backward, plunging into the pond's icy embrace, the black mass swallowing him whole.