Chapter Seventeen: The Nightmare
Huh, how strange.
I couldn’t quite grasp why I suddenly felt this way, like the warmth and coziness that Grandma Claire brought me. It was as if something nearby was irresistibly drawing me in. This heart-felt joy… what the heck is it?
My little head wasn’t ready for all this yet, and suddenly, my feet shifted, sending a slight dizzy spell my way.
The next moment, with a loud bang, the earth was falling apart, dust flying everywhere.
What? What?! An earthquake!!
The ground shook violently. I struggled to stand straight as I watched a crack form not far away, widening rapidly. With a rumble, it transformed into a familiar gigantic chasm, extending all the way to the foot of the village.
Boiling black sludge surged up from the chasm.
No one was more acquainted with this disaster-evoking scene than I was.
An intense unease surged from my depths, and my breathing turned chaotic.
This is bad! Bad!!! BAD!!!
The Abyss, it’s the Abyss!! Why is it showing up here?!
Quick, I’ve got to get back to the village and warn everyone to run!
I dropped my bamboo basket and, ignoring the trembling ground beneath my feet, sprinted with all my might. The wind roared in my ears, and the cloth shoes I was wearing quickly fell apart under my explosive push-off. I kicked them off and continued running barefoot towards the village.
The chasm barely reached the foot of the village, and thankfully, it had stopped expanding, sparing the village from irreversible destruction. Nevertheless, the once-pleasant village was now a nightmarish sight; houses had collapsed, leaving only crumbling walls and heart-wrenching cries all around. The road, once smooth, had transformed into a battlefield, a plethora of stones jettisoned from the ground by a monstrous force, scattering everywhere. Weakened people trapped under debris struggled for their lives, with their relatives helping them. Scattered villagers, faces twisted in despair, prayed at the roadside.
“Divine punishment, it’s divine punishment… Goddess of Sin, please help us, Goddess of Sin, please help us…”
A tragic scene unfolded.
I stood dumbfounded at the village entrance, eyes fixed on a child around three or four years old, whose dusty little face was etched with fear and confusion, crying out loudly.
“Mommy—!! Mommy—!! Ah—! Ah—!”
Beneath the child’s feet lay a woman whose head was crushed under rubble, lifeless as red and white seeped out from under the stones.
What should I do…? What can I do to save them…?
The sorrow inside me surged exponentially. I turned to glance back at the chasm, where a jagged arm, sharp like a dagger, struggled to rise from the gory black sludge. Then came a second, a third, a fourth… an entire legion of arms erupted from the muck, like a hellish army of demons.
I inhaled deeply and summoned every ounce of power I had, shouting to the bewildered crowd.
“Run!! There are monsters, quick—! Run—!”
Then, I scooped up the crying child and sprinted away from the hell behind me.
“Mommy! I want Mommy—!!”
The child pounded on me with tiny hands, tears and dirt mingling on their face, making it impossible to see their features.
I bit my lip, not knowing what to say or wanting to say anything, just using all my strength to run.
Aili… Barry… I need to find them first…
Oh Buddha, oh God, and all the deities of this world.
Please bless them, don’t let anything happen to them…
Intense unease filled my heart.
How fast could I run at full speed, completely disregarding my stamina? I couldn’t give an exact figure, just that it was incredibly fast, not the kind of speed a well-built human could achieve; the Horned Horses of this world couldn’t catch me.
So getting home was just a blink of an eye.
The shabby stone and wood house had collapsed halfway, with the standing wall showing signs of imminent collapse. The cow at the doorway was restless, trying to break loose from its rope.
“Aili! Barry!”
I set the child down outside and shouted anxiously.
Suddenly, the child plopped down on the ground, vomiting incessantly. Maybe I’d run too fast while carrying them. It was probably like motion sickness; they’d be fine.
I didn’t have time to check on the child. I rushed into the dilapidated house.
“Aili! Barry!”
No sign of anyone. The wooden house and stones had collapsed haphazardly. If anyone was trapped beneath, I’d see them right away. They must still be at Allen’s house and haven’t returned yet.
I turned to leave, but then remembered something and frantically dug through the ruins until I found the scythe.
I raised my head and saw a tattered cloak still hanging on what was left of the wall. After a moment’s hesitation, I grabbed it and threw it over my shoulders.
This cloak should offer some protection, just in case.
When I stepped outside, I realized the child was gone, probably off somewhere while I was busy looking for things.
I hoped they hadn’t run back to find their mom, I silently prayed.
I untied the cow and smacked its backside, sending it bolting into the distance.
You’d better run for your life too.
I glanced back at the wreckage that was once my home, and then headed towards the west side of the village.
“Run! Everyone, run! The monsters are coming!”
“Run! Uncle, quick! There are monsters!”
I shouted continuously at the people around, but few responded to me.
The entire village was shrouded in a blanket of despair.
“Oh God—!!”
“Ah—! My leg is broken! My leg—!!”
“Someone help me! My son, my son is still inside! He’s trapped underneath!”
“Little Shay, are you okay?”
Someone called out to me, their face dusty and indistinguishable.
“I’m fine, you all, run, there are monsters…”
Gradually, my voice grew hoarse. But I realized most people couldn’t leave.
I saw a mother with two kids, frantically digging at the dirt and stones, trying to rescue her husband trapped beneath the wreckage, bl**d dripping from her arm onto the ground, completely oblivious.
I saw an aunt dragging a broken leg, painfully crawling on the ground, leaving a long trail of bl**d.
I saw a girl who had just sung beautiful songs at the party, now lying still on the ground, covered in bl**d, eyes closed. An old seamstress knelt beside her, crying like a child.
I spotted Uncle Dole’s house.
In the pile of rubble, a bloody, muscular arm was protruding.
“Uncle Dole…”
I approached shakily and exerted myself to move large stones aside.
Underneath were countless beams and debris.
“Uncle Dole!……. Can you hear me!”
No reply.
I took a deep breath, lifted a thick log with all my might.
It was heavily burdened with stones, but I managed to force it up. The stones clanked as they fell, and my face flushed with strain as I awkwardly shuffled the log and the heavy stones off to the side. Finally, I cleared the rubble, revealing Uncle Dole’s face.
His face was covered in dust and bl**d, pale as paper, his wide-open eyes lost their focus.
“Uncle Dole… wake up…”
I grasped his still-warm hand, my voice trembling.
“Wake up…”
“Come on, wake up…”
I really wished Uncle Dole would open his eyes and let out his thunderous laughter like he always did.
“Hahaha, Little Shay, you scared?”
But he didn’t respond.
He would never wake up again.
Life, at this moment, felt as fragile as paper.
