"Do it now!" The chanting grew louder around them, sounds of combat getting closer.
"I.. I can't!" He started at the glowing purple orb in his hand.
"Submerge the relic! It's the only way!"
"What if she's already dead?"
"Then we fucking die with her, if you don't do it now!"
With fearful hesitation, he thrust his hand into the vat of warm blood.
The violet light vanished into the crimson fluid as a pulse of energy coursed through the container.
"It.. it stings, what's happening?!"
"Don't let go! If you drop it we'll never get another chance!"
Clanging metal and chanting rang through the grand hall, closing in on their targets.
"Vran!" The blood began to boil and discolour.
"Don't you fucking dare stop!" She set her arrows in oil for preparation.
The doors splintered, axes chopping through the aged wooden door.
In seconds, the blood was sucked into the once glowing sphere, leaving an empty stone basin.
He stared at the horror in his hand, holding a beating heart.
"Give me that, now!" She snatched the pulsing organ from his hand, throwing it on the ground. "Fuck off back to the hell you came from!" A swift stab of the sword split through the heart, ending the eldritch life.
The whole temple was suddenly submerged in silence, whatever remaining legion and cultists seemingly vanishing into a void.
"Wh...what do we do now?"
"We get the hell out of here and bury this hell hole like it never existed."
YOU ARE READING
Arising Anthology
Short StoryWriting prompts that become short stories, poems, or whatever else fits the mood. A growing collection of personal literature.
