•Ashford Chuch•
Knock. Knock... Knock.
Three resounding knocks echoed from the sturdy door. Its steel rim was held down by inch-thick nails.
Metal beams ran across the towering entrance, its stone walls reverberating softly.
The wooden floor creaked under the weight of the cart, letting out an eerie wail.
The survivors tensed. Waiting with bated breaths, they knew beyond that door lay their deaths.
A faint chattering came from a child's mouth. Their teeth unable to hold still.
The guards' knuckles turned white, their grips slowly starting to slip.
A pungent stench seeped out of a man's trousers. A yellow puddle forming beneath them. The man was too scared to even care, falling to his knees, his sword clattering against the ancient floor.
A memory flickered past Valen's mind.
"Your weapon is your life. Lose either and the other will follow soon."
As if on cue, a loud thump rocked the sturdy door.
Then another.
And one more.
Soon the thumping came from the walls around the entrance. The rhythmic beating matched their racing hearts.
Knock. Knock... Knock.
Everyone's head snapped to the right.
There, a long hand gripped a large horn, tapping the ornate windows slowly.
"It's him! The devil! The devil from the forest!" squealed the coward, their pathetic body dragging itself across the floor, hiding behind a young boy.
Immediately, the guards tensed once more. The old guard had only one match: Valen. Aside from the young prodigy, none of them could come close.
Their backs went cold, fear clouding their minds.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
As if matching the rhythmic knocking, a low thump began to reverberate from where the demon had just been.
First it was one.
Then two.
Then countless more.
Slowly, the church shook. Dust rained from centuries-old beams, settling on frozen shoulders and damp hair. It smelled of rot and time, thick in the air, choking their lungs. It faintly reminded Valen of the ash outside, swirling around the filled room with seemingly no pattern.
Bang!
The windows behind the altar exploded. A large horn stared down at them.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The horn rang, summoning its minions to assault the unyielding fortress.
"May Solara protect us," chimed Lyra.
Soon, even the most disbelieving men began to pray.
Knees crashing into the wooden floor.
Hands pressed against each other.
Valen's eyes were locked on the remaining walls and windows.
Waiting with his spear ready, ready to land an early blow. His forehead dripped thick beads of sweat. His body ready to launch what could be his final attack.
Then—silence.
Valen grew even stiller. His eyes had tunneled onto the windows in front of him. His spear was ready, his mind was ready. He did not care about the consequences pushing his body any further would bring. He knew this was their chance.
This was his chance.
Scrrrrrrrrrrrr
Valen stumbled forward. His thoughts racing as a low scrape circled the steel rim of the ancient door.
His body spun.
Carried by muscle memory, Valen braced himself for the door to break. But it never did.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The thumping resumed, this time frenzied, chaotic.
From all four walls, the stone shook, the glass rattling, the moonlight shining down through tinted glass onto the praying nun.
Valen's head had begun to spin. He didn't know when, but his vision had become blurry. His thoughts jumbled and his breath shallow.
His skull began to thump in time with the fleshy hands that struck the church walls.
Eventually Valen found himself on his knees too. His legs growing weak and his back beginning to bend.
Then, an ear piercing screech tore through the sky. The windows shattering, sending shards of multicoloured glass flying at the kneeling survivor's.
As though hit by an unseen attack, Valen's ears popped, then rang. As thick streams of blood flowed out of all his wounds.
Silence. Followed by a thud. This time made by Valen's face colliding with the floor.
The others swayed, having to catch themselves with their hands.
A demonic chuckle rang out. Passing freely from the empty windows, grinding down on what little morale was left.
Then, the ground shook. As countless feet strode away from the sacred site.
Knock. Knock... Knock.
The demon knocked once more, this time letting out a horrifying cackle, before turning away. It followed the crowd, making it's way back to the forest.
Hours had passed.
Valen's eyes slowly fluttered open. Silently ashamed that he has lost consciousness once more. He gasped a strong inhale as his battered body sat upright.
"What happened? How long was I asleep?" He questioned, already clutching his aching head. The last thing he remembered was what seemed to be a screech.
"They left." Lyra responded. "Whatever it was that screeched, clearly called them over."
"Maybe their unholy god? I cannot think of anything else so fearsome." Argon mused. His hammer lightly tossing back and forth between hands.
"Solara protected us." Said his mother, still with her hands pressed together.
"We are all going to die!" Shouted the crazed coward. His pants had dried up, alongside his sanity.
Valen could not help but notice the missing bandages, the cowards signature trait.
"Your bandages, where are they?" Valen questioned. His voice shallow and weak.
"My bandages! You are asking about my bandages! In this situation? You are insane!" Retorted the crazed coward.
Only to be met by a cold snort "Answer him." The battle nurse was curious too.
"They were fake, ok? Happy? I lied about being injured, I bandaged my own hand. All to get out of that goddamn morning expedition. BUT NO! That stupid old man had to drag me along. Something about pulling my weight, doing work? My jobs to stay alive. Do you hear me? I don't care who lives, who dies. Aslong as I don't."
The room stared at the coward in a mix of awe, and disgust. Never had they seen someone so heartless and incompetent in their lives.
Even the few kids looked at him derisively.
"Did they really send you back to tell the message?" Lyra urged. She had not known the guards, nor had she any attachment to them. However she did want to find out the truth of one of the mysteries weighing on their minds.
"No! Ofcourse they didn't. They had a stupid idea of facing these abominations head to head. We were surrounded. Did you see the size of that horn? Do you think we could fight that? I ran. I ran to safety, and warned the village. I'm a hero. You should be thanking me." The more the pathetic man rambled, the more they realized just how far gone he was.
Outside, the winds howled against the empty windows. With no houses to slow it down, with nothing left to impede it.
"In fact. I think we should get rid of the dead weight! Why the hell are there children here? What good will they do us? Get out of here you worthless orphans. And these elderly? Them too. Waste of supplies. Waste of room. Waste of air." The man continued to curse. Towards the end no one really understood who he was cursing it. But Valen had a faint suspicion it was himself.
"You are right. We will be leaving." Valen responded, the villages people eyes widening slightly at his decision. "That monster was clearly intelligent. It even fooled me! Staying here is a losing game. And what if whatever it was that called them back comes personally? So I'm leaving. I'm leaving and if anyone wants to come with, raise your hands."
One by one, the hands of the survivors rose. Starting with the children, only three had survived until now. A remarkable feat considering the circumstances. Then Argon, Lyra, and his mother raised their hands. Slowly, the group that was leaving outnumbered those staying. Until finally, only one man... No. Only one coward remained.
Valen had a strong inkling that they would follow. The village had long since been destroyed, staying was nothing but inaction.
"Here. Take this." Valen threw a load of bread at the feet of the man child.
He spun round, "Get ready. We will travel to the nearest human city. The city of Velthar."
"We are taking this cart." Valen stated. With only one person remaining, his decision was almost unanimously agreed on.
"What? No you won't. This is my cart. It's because of me it's even here!"
"And what did you do to bring it here?"
"I held the door open." The crazed coward stated, matter of factly.
With a gentle sigh, Argon stepped between the two. His wide frame dwarfing both. "Try and stop us."
His voice landed like a nail in wood.
The coward stammered, but finally relented. Watching as the group left the church.
Soon the 24 survivors were hiking up a nearby hill. Between the village of Ashford and the city of Valthar was a large portion of wilderness. They planned to make a rest stop at the village closest to the main roads.
As they marched, the ground began to tremor. They turned, and witnessed a huge wave of rendlings swarming the village. They quickly reached the church, climbing over each other to get through the open windows.
*Crazed Cowards Pov*
Ahh peace. Piece at last. Huh? Where's my piece of bread? He looked down, to an empty lap. His eyes then locked onto two rodents fighting over the lone bread. That's my bread! He thought, before lunging towards it. Ignoring the faint rumbling that had begun to shake the church. He made one final pounce onto the bread. And as he did so, the rendlings pounced too. Pouring in from every open window.
The open door.
Even the cracks in the ceiling.
And that was how the coward met his end. Fighting over bread with fellow rodents.