Chapter IV

Empty. No wraith, no creature nothing but empty darkness and weakly hanging mist. Garma sighed with relief, an encounter with a fog wraith could be disastrous. No geniune way to kill them had ever been found out, all that was known about them was that they were the essence of death, things that manifest when thousands of lives were cut short. They battled with mind, body and soul and to lose any of these battles was worse than death.

He was eager to leave this ruin now. It was cool and dim, almost refreshing from the blistering heat of the outside but now he longed to be in the open. They were lost in this construct now, the entrance could be anywhere. Garma gritted his teeth with frustration, everything looked the same in the gloom. There was no landmark.

Horus crept into the room first, his blade drawn. He kept low as he moved then stopped in the middle of the room. Nothing.

"Ok lets move." Garma said clambering over the horizontal door frame. Suddenly he stopped, a horrified look across his face. Everything slowed but he could not react, the floor had begun to crack under Horus' feet. A rotten, diseased hand had poked through the rotten wall and was about to clamp around his ankle. Horus hadn't noticed, he waved confidently at Garma to come over. A trembling stutter was all that he could manage in reply. Finally the ground shattered, the hand grabbed its prize and with a terrified scream Horus dissapeared.

"Horus!" Garma shouted, with renewed vigour he threw himself into the room and up to the hole in the floor. Nothing could be made out but swirling fog.

"Sir the wraiths!" One soldier called.

"That was no wraith that was-" Garma almost stopped for fear of sounding mad but continued anyway. "That was a monster."

"But sir." The soldier said again with fearful desperation in his voice. Garma knew it was unfair to send his men in after Horus, the chances are they would all be killed. The fog began to move in irregular patterns, swirling and hissing in anticipation of new blood. Every ounce of him wanted him to dive in and save him. Surely he still had time, a glance at the men showed their thoughts. Fear, anguish and confusion. Not one of them would stand against a wraith. He had no choice.

A tear formed in Garma's eye, held for a moment and then fell. He had no other choice, he had to abandon Horus. He couldn't risk his mission, he had to let the man who was as a brother to him go. Leave him to his fate, leave him to the wraiths.

"Lets move men, leave quickly single file. Keep your weapons ready." Garma stammered over every word despite his best attempt at remaining stoic. The men took a moment to move, unsure of how to react. Finally the more cowardly of the company climbed to their feet and turned to leave.

Garma and the others followed suit. He said a quiet goodbye to Horus as he did so, a quiet apology.

Suddenly the building began to shake, the fog whirled with wild ferocity and the hissing grew into almost a screech. Walls began to collapse in on themselves around the company, the cieling cracked and gave way to more rubble.

"The buildings collapsing. Get moving go go go!" Garma tried desperatly to make himself heard over the crash of the collapsing building but to no avail. He saw before him men dissapear as the floor gave way under them, some clung desperatly to the floor, some screamed for help. All tried in vain to escape the raging fog and the hungry wraiths below. None escaped, not even Garma.

The End

6 comments about this story Feed