Apostates and screamers part 3

The villagers started to wake up to the commotion.

As the villagers emerged from their slumber, they were met with a scene of chaos and horror. Gasps of disbelief escaped their lips as they laid eyes upon the mutated village leader, now a monstrous abomination fuelled by the collective pain and anguish of the grieving parents. Fear and confusion gripped the onlookers, their voices hushed and trembling.

The monster had many zits, and open sores with its flesh rotting around it. The village master was clearly in great pain, but still kept moving around, flaying its arms as it tried to attack Amala.

She kept her distance, but the abomination then stretched its arm, with its bones cracking and skin ripping apart. Rufus used a divine sphere to destroy the arm saving Amala, but it quickly regenerated, but with great pain to the mutant.

The villagers started to panic and get scared. Rufus tried to quickly destroy the monsters and summoned divine spheres to quickly destroy them. Its limbs and body were blown up, with only small pieces of flesh lingering all over the village.

Yet, horror seemed insatiable, for from the scattered remnants, the macabre puzzle of living flesh began to stir. Limbs, torn and severed, writhed in perverse unison, drawn together by an unseen force. The grotesque remnants converged, reshaping and intertwining, as the monstrous entity coalesced once more. Flesh crawled and contorted, binding itself together with grim determination, as the mutated village leader clawed his way back from the abyss, his putrid form reforming with each passing moment.

Rufus, fueled by a last surge of strength and a burning determination, readied himself to unleash a cataclysmic blow upon the abomination that had plagued their village. He concentrated his divinity, drawing forth his raw power near his hands. The air crackled with anticipation, charged with the impending release of unimaginable force.

However, the mutant, sensing its imminent demise, responded with a perverse defiance. Its grotesque form twisted and writhed, distending beyond the limits of reason. Its scarred tissue pulsated with an ominous energy as if harboring a malevolence so potent that even the very fabric of its being struggled to contain it. And then, it happened—the mutant's body began to expand, a sickening metamorphosis fueled by its desperate bid for survival.

Yellow gas, thick and noxious, oozed and seeped from the abomination's scarred flesh. It escaped with a sinister hiss, a macabre symphony that echoed the creature's impending doom. The gas, tainted with the essence of decay and despair, enveloped the village like a plague, its malevolent touch inflicting a swift and merciless demise upon the unsuspecting inhabitants.

Within moments, the once-vibrant villagers fell victim to the gas's insidious wrath. Their bodies contorted and convulsed as if wrenched by invisible hands of agony. Flesh withered and blackened, sloughing off in grotesque ribbons to reveal festering wounds teeming with decay. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, mingling with anguished moans that rose from decaying throats. Life, once abundant, now crumbled into ruin and oblivion.

Amala, blessed with the divine essence that coursed through her veins, stood resilient amidst the chaos. Her very divinity formed a protective barrier against the onslaught of the gas, shielding her from its corrupting touch. Sensing the impending doom of her comrades, she raised her voice, a desperate plea carried on the winds of despair.

"Rufus! Suomi!" Amala's cry pierced the suffocating atmosphere.

Suomi, though a sorcerer, remained vulnerable in her mortal body to any normal damage. Acting swiftly, Rufus swooped down and scooped Suomi into his arms. Rufus ascended into the sky above, carrying both Amala and Suomi to safety.

Meanwhile, the mutant, swollen with its impending destruction, reached a point of critical mass. In a cataclysmic explosion that defied comprehension, it unleashed its deathly payload upon the village. The very air became a tempest of putrid gas, filling every nook and cranny with a nauseating fog of decay. Structures crumbled, vegetation withered, and life itself recoiled before the grotesque aftermath of the mutant's demise.

The noxious fumes quickly dissipated, and Rufus swiftly descended back to the ground, only to be met with a sight of utter devastation – everyone was dead.

"What in the world was that atrocious thing?" Rufus exclaimed, his voice filled with both horror and disbelief.

"It was an apostate of life," Suomi responded, her tone solemn and grave.

"An apostate?"

"Yes," Suomi explained, "a wretched being that has completely abandoned all aspects of life. They serve as pawns for demons and are the progeny of Pandora, their forms twisted and warped into monstrous abominations. Their grotesque mutation is a cruel and inescapable fate, rendering them functional only in their perverse forms."

The three of them turned their gaze upon the lifeless bodies of the doctor, his wife, and their child, now just dark silhouettes against the pristine snow. The family had attempted a desperate escape, but the lethal gas had been quicker. Though their lives were cruelly snatched away, they remained together, even in death.

Amala, her voice laden with a mix of sorrow and resoluteness, broke the oppressive silence. "We need to leave, now," she declared, her hands already beginning to load one of the sleds.

Rufus, his heart heavy, could only nod in agreement, his eyes reflecting the torment of their shared plight. "Yes, we must continue," he uttered softly.

But Suomi, overcome with a torrent of sorrow, would not be silenced. "How can you both be so heartless?!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying across the desolate landscape.

Amala and Rufus exchanged puzzled glances, taken aback by Suomi's outburst.

"This man saved my life, and you would just leave him and his family here like this?" Suomi continued, her voice filled with anger and despair.

"We have to keep moving; there's nothing to be gained by staying here," Amala responded, her tone practical yet firm.

"We owe them a proper farewell. We cannot just leave them here to decay in this frozen hell," Suomi argued, her eyes ablaze with fierce determination.

"The ground is frozen solid, Suomi. We can't bury them," Amala countered, her patience wearing thin.

"This isn't about time, Amala! They saved our lives, and offered us everything they had. We cannot just turn our backs on them now," Suomi retorted, her voice rising in intensity.

Amala's eyes narrowed, her determination unwavering. "We are amidst death, Suomi. We can't afford to be sentimental. Our survival demands that we leave this place and seek safety."

Rufus, caught in the crossfire of their heated exchange, spoke up, his voice laden with sorrow. "Suomi, I understand how you feel, but Amala is right. We need to prioritize our survival. There's nothing we can do to change what has happened here."

"You speak of survival," Suomi shot back, her voice quivering with emotion, "but what of their survival? The doctor, his wife, their child...you speak as if their lives meant nothing."

"We are not responsible for their deaths, Suomi. The fault lies with the village leader's weakness," Amala retorted sharply, her patience at its end.

"I won't be a part of this heartless abandonment. I refuse to leave them here, forgotten in this frozen wasteland," Suomi declared, her resolve unbroken.

Rufus, his heart heavy with grief, responded softly, "Suomi, I understand your pain, but how does burying them help? Yes, they helped us, and it would be a kind gesture to bury them, but in the end, they came from the earth, and to the earth, they shall return. We have a mission to complete."

"How can you be so heartless? They helped us!" Suomi cried out, her voice breaking.

"It is because I care. I care for my sister, and I care for the sacrifices others have made for us," Rufus said, his voice firm as he turned to prepare the sled with the remaining untainted supplies.

An hour later, Amala and Rufus were ready to depart. As they were about to leave, they noticed Suomi, her hands moving swiftly through the snow, writing something. She then took out her kantele and began to play a tune, activating the divine scripture she had inscribed upon the snow. Instantly, the entire village, along with all the deceased, was engulfed in flames.

It was Suomi's way of paying respects, a form of burial through the sanctifying fire, ensuring that those who had perished would not be left forgotten in the cold embrace of the wilderness.