Fratricide

The dainty dandruff drifted through the night air, the serene silence echoing the emptiness of the fields. There was a lone figure fighting against the weak weather, one with a shimmering arm that bounced the light of the moon back at it. Miller’s skin shivered with every snowflake that latched onto him, but he continued on, knowing it was now or never. There was a variety of tools and objects stuffed within his armpit, all of it wrapped within a gauze-like rag, all except a wooden handle jutting out like an overgrown thorn.

His brief venture came to an end once he was able to determine the distance between him and the school was desirable, whilst not going into the forest just yet. Much to his convenience, there was a stump waiting and willing to be used as a pedestal just for this occasion. He allowed his luggage to flop onto the ground and he began his work.

Miller began to bundle whatever loose and decaying wood he could find, piling it a few feet from his workstation. He collected whatever he could in order to construct a ring around the scrap in order to manufacture a makeshift fire pit. Once that was completed, he brushed off however much snow that had collected on his work bench. He proceeded to sit, his breath faltering as he prepared for what he couldn’t believe he was about to do.

‘We’re wasting our time. We know you won’t do it. Even if you do, it would be foolish. Once it is gone we will be too vulnerable to stand a chance against anyone.’

Miller dug through his supply and uncovered a set of matches, carefully taking a tick and swiping it against the box.

“I’ve never had any intention to stand against anyone to begin with. I can’t continue to live like this. How many times will my mind be consumed by someone else’s will because of this blade? If they want it so much, I will ship it to them personally” he mumbled to himself, his eyes fixated in a reflective manner to his left arm.

Miller tossed the ignited twig into the pile, allowing it to spark into a fully-fledged flame.

‘Then you’re an idiot. If you do not choose to stand then that means you are already on the ground, waiting to be stepped on. The scientist’s way was not the right one, but that does not mean you need to denounce violence. We are strong, if we so chose so we could conquer whatever or whoever we desire.’

Miller gripped onto the wooden handle and unsheathed the axe’s head, placing the chopping weapon on his stool.

“I do not want to rule or conquer anyone. I’m getting sick of these debates. This blade, it is the reason for all of our misery. Without it, we could slip into the real world unnoticed, unbounded by the scientists that created us. We are not like them, yes, we’ve learned that, but we can live amongst them without any quarrels. They fear us because of this thing, if we be rid of it we can move on.”

Miller placed a scrap piece of metal over the kindling flame, allowing the surface of the iron to roast and swelter.

‘You say we as though this is any option outside of your own. You have never been a part of us, you despise us. We were one back in the box and you seem to forget that.’
Miller gently pressed the flat end of his blade against the wood of the stump, placing the section where flesh melded into metal at the center of his work bench.

“Exactly. I plan to forget everything once this is over. Once the barrier between this world and that world is severed. In the process, I hope to forget you, it is the best for both of us” he retorted in a seldom manner

His fist wrapped around the axe, raising the weapon and pinpointing the mark in which it would be best to split the difference.

“My hatred for you may be deep, but I won’t forget who you once were, old friend” he huffed as he steadied his aim. He froze there in the snow, readjusting the grip he had on the weapon several times. His breathing was louder than anything he had heard before, even though it was nothing above a slight respiration from his nostrils. His pure black eyes honed in on his target as his heart drummed as though it was parading him on, but his mind and sense of self-preservation held him back from completing his task. He was at a standstill.

     Failure. It was a failure. Not a massive one nor an insignificant one, but still a failure nevertheless. He made a mistake. He couldn't believe it. He never thought of it. He never considered it. It was only one slight change, the slightest of changes. It nearly blew him into many, many parts, some of them are still falling from the darkness. One of them, a part of his left foot, slapped against a stone object. Another part, a section of his kneecap, fell into a pond just a few yards away from the blast, giving the fishies something to snack on for the night. It was odd really, he haven't felt this way before, the closest feeling that Lockwood would describe it might come close to the time when he was buried in a ditch for a few days before he dug himself out with a makeshift spade made from parts of his bones. This feeling is just like that, but with everything down below his waist, or what waist he had left.
    
    A few minutes ago, Lockwood had a perfect set of legs, his latest experiment was going accordingly to plan, and the night was as perfect as like his smile. All was right with the world. The experiment in question was intriguing to say at least. It was a simple reanimation of a corpse, nothing too dangerous or life-threatening (at least, for Lockwood). What made this reanimation ritual unique was two things:

    1. The corpse was stuffed with at least several gallons of pure nitroglycerin, an explosive liquid that from forceful impact can detonate and explode. 
    2. The corpse was hanging from a tree that had a branch the corpse was tied on to that was weakened by years of erosion and bugs.


    Now, let's say that, Lockwood here didn't realize the branch was nearly about to fall off on its own, which by the weight of the body, hastened its demise in the next few moments. Now if you're wondering why Lockwood was unintentionally about to blow himself up and was doing this experiment in the first place. It was an idea he came up a few days ago when he had a student in one of his classes obliterate his classroom due to an incident with that student's power. No name, but Lockwood dealt with that student personally, but was later seen bringing out cartons of nitroglycerin from the Academy's storage closet. Fast forward to tonight and voila, explosive zombies.

    The explosion was sudden. Before Lockwood even had time to react, we was in the air and meeting the night sky head on. It wasn't a noisy interruption, more like a bump in the night, but the results can speak for themselves, or at least that's what Lockwood thought with his ears ringing from the resulting noise. From what he could tell as he was now passing the highest point of his upward launch, his legs are gone, a chunk of his right arm is missing, his hair, besides ruffling from the wind, is still fine miraculously enough, and felt some of his organs have gone out of wack. It was when he was descending from the heavens that Lockwood realized that he messed up, and how hard it was to breath when your rib cage is squishing itself from the inside.

    When he landed, it was a quick and easy *SMACK* to the dirt and pieces of snow, which made even more parts jumbled up than they should be; some bones are sticking out from the lower half and his left wrist. What was left of Lockwood was trying to move, but got movements of a newborn calf on a snowy day. Lockwood was glad that at least his hat was still on his head, despite all that had happened.
        

The glossy wetness of the ax wielder’s bulbous eyes nearly made it seem as though they’d freeze over like any body of water would from the cold night air. He was nervous, but on the surface he looked calm and ready to complete the deed he came to do, but he didn’t dare move. The pain of it would merely be trivial, he had experienced worse pain in the past, it was the matter of letting go and the fear of messing up the procedure that followed. He could die if he didn’t cauterize the wound fast enough, in fact he could go into shock after severing the limb. Not to mention that once the deed is done it could not be undone.

Miller licked his teeth nervously and lined up his shot for about the third time that night, but this time around he raised the ax well over his head and it seemed as though he would finally take his shot. His eyelids acted like blast doors and he threw his face away from view as he jerked his arm to chop. Just before any limb removal could be enacted, what sounded like three tons of C4 detonated in the distance, the mere echo of it being enough to off-kilter Miller and with the help of some projectile flesh, skewed the aim of the chopping weapon, the head nicking his blade and leaving a noticeable notch on its edge.

The bladed being was quick to repel from his workspace as he heard and nearly felt the ax sink into the stump. The lack of pain at first frighten the beast, thinking as though he might be going into shock, but as he creaked his eyes open he swiftly realized that it was merely the fact that he missed his target, the cause of it being an airborne leg tendon.

There were many questions that flooded Miller’s mind, though the source of the explosion was the largest of it. If there was danger afoot, then he couldn’t complete his task, if anything it was an excuse for him to duck out before he could do any more damage to himself. It was a good excuse though. ‘We knew you couldn’t do it’ his mind whispered, almost like a backhand to his cheek while he was already down.

“Shut up. I would have if not for that explosion. Could it be them?”

‘If it was them they would’ve snatched us when we were preoccupied. Though, we doubt its coincidence. Perhaps a faraway foe trying to obliterate us. If so, we can’t stay here while they line up their next shot. Move!’

With that, Miller ditched the area and began to move out, though before he could get far he nearly tripped up on the gore of a mess that was Lockwood. The beast stood there, completely puzzled about what he was looking at. If it were human there would be no doubt it was dead, but it seemed to still be moving (though perhaps it was his watery eyes obstructing his vision). He paused for a good couple moments, inspecting the decaying corpse, and while it was shocking, Miller was hard pressed to say that he hadn’t seen sights just as horrifying before. That being said, he still didn’t have an easy stomach for it.

‘Leave him. If he’s not dead already, he will be. Our body is more important than his right now. If we stay here the next shell will obliterate us both.’

He was hesitant for a short while, actually almost motioning to leave, but in the end he had to refuse the other voice. “If he was harmed from something that was meant for me, it is my responsibility to see he is healed properly” Miller whispered to himself as he bent down nervously toward the corpse, uncertain of what exactly he should do and where to even start. With his only hand, he poked at the Anatomy teacher’s head and mumbled “uh… are you… are you still alive?”

    The bones continue to protest against any kind of movement, but Lockwood would have none of it. Facing down, he extended his left arm, which was quite fine except for the missing fingers. His right arm, which was bent in ways that shouldn't be considered healthy by any means. Blood was coating the surrounding snow in a crimson blanket, which leaked from every orifice both natural and not. Lockwood was glad that his body lost the ability to feel pain, but it was still very nerving to have his bits and pieces scattered in the wind. Besides the obvious lost of limbs, limited movement, and possibly causing everyone nearby a panic attack.

    Lockwood heard a voice asking him if he was still alive. As much as the lich wanted to answer back, the impact from landing must of skewed his neck, and could only reply with a small, helpless gurgling from the depths of his wind pipe. With effort, Lockwood slowly forced his torso from his awkward position and fell to the side, facing the night sky and what he believed to be one of the students from the academy, which lit a convenient solution to his current problem. Purposely, he extended one of his arms out to Miller, which then the arm decided to simulate a collapsing tower and simply snapped off to the side. 

    "...feuu... grah...muuaa..." Lockwood barely managed to force out. The reconstruction of tissue was beginning to work its magic. He was hoping that his voice was coming back to him.
    

‘He’s as good as dead. You’re wasting our time’ the inner voice hissed as man attempted to raise his arm and speak. In the process of that, he lost his limb whilst trying to point at Miller, making even worse of a gory mess. The contents of Miller’s stomach began to hop up and down like children in a bouncy castle. It was hard to focus on the man’s safety when he was literally falling apart and the sight of him would even make those used to gore in horror films squeamish.

The man gargled his words, no doubt on his own blood. It did not inspire confidence, however, Miller knew better. Anyone with half the injuries that the teacher had would’ve been long dead by this point. The scientists had made him quite adept at spotting these patterns, so he had a hunch that the man was still alive because something in his body allowed him to do so. If that was the case, he would require Miller’s help in order to get fixed or fix himself. “No, he must have some sort of invulnerability or regenerative healing. He couldn’t have raised his arm like that if it was so clearly not attached to his body anymore.”

‘Then leave him. He can help himself and heal, we cannot. Whoever dropped that first bomb will be back to lay out another.’

Miller stood up tall once again, searching the surroundings momentarily for anyone who could be watching. As he did, his ears picked up on a rustling somewhere distant. His sense of hearing wasn’t anything above human ability, but he was trained very well in tracking and paying attention to the area around him. It could merely be nothing though. “He’s defenseless in the state he’s in, anything could come to pick him off at any moment. His scent is strong too” he answered himself as he took a whiff of the air. He had to swallow his own tongue in order to upchucking from the putrid smell.

Miller slung Lockwood’s dismembered arm over his shoulder and gripped his hand on the teacher’s dress collar. His deep eyes gazed back at the legless corpse and reassured him “I’m going to get you out of the cold.” He then turned around and began to head back toward his fireplace with the bleeding bodice in tow. The school was too far from their location, not to mention that Lockwood’s dismembered torso was in such disrepair that he would lose way too many important bits. On top of that, Miller had supplies that could stop him from bleeding out (if that would prove to be a problem anyway).

    Lockwood felt a hand on his collar, and not any time after, felt himself being pulled toward a campfire just nearby. He stiffened at the sight, what if this student was going to set him aflame? That wouldn't be very comfortable position to be in, and now in a vulnerable state, he might be unable to return to the academy for at least several decades if the majority of his person is ashes or spread apart. But even in the threat of possible danger, Lockwood continued to let Miller drag him to warmth. since he really can't do much in his current state besides bleeding out or voicing out hideous noises.

    Slowly, his body was starting up to fix itself, starting with readjusting small bones in his hands minus missing fingers. Occasionally, the sound of bones would emit from Lockwood's insides, and the blood, while still leaking like a slightly twisted faucet, lessened over time. By the time he was dragged near the fire, his right arm took the consideration to announce to the world that it snapped into place, which was quite tingly and also meant that the nerves are connecting just fine.

    Lockwood coughed repeatedly, and continue to cough until bits and pieces of chunks of bits and blood came spewing out from his mouth. Once the coughing subsided, Lockwood lay quiet and completely still besides the twitching from all the regrowth happening inside him.

    Suddenly, he spoke, "Wannderfal niighc... isshnt eet?" His words still in the process of trying to return to their original sound.
    

Miller let the body be once he got back to his temporary campsite. He propped Lockwood into a seating position and laid his back against the stump that he had nearly severed his own arm atop of. In addition to that, he dropped the lich’s loose limb next to him, unsure of what exactly he was to do with it. His seat would not be too far from the fire and it would be more than enough to keep him warm for the time being, though the steel plank within it was still reddening and waiting to be used. Miller daintily circled around Lockwood, trying not to interfere with whatever process he was going through in order to heal. In general, he didn’t want to touch the corpse more than he had to due to fear of being accused of his gory mess should he expire.

‘You didn’t think of that did you? We both know they would blame us for this. The more you stick around the more danger there is for us’ his inner voice alerted him as he peered back at the jittering torso, somewhat entranced in his odd movements. ‘Look at him, he doesn’t need our help. He will survive just fine even if we ditch him. The longer we stick around here the more danger we are in.’ At this point, Miller was clutching at his forehead, apparently under the assumption that it would help him any.

“Shut up” he growled lowly, hopefully enough to keep the teacher out of his inner conflict. In that moment though, he heard the zombie speak up, this time with much clearer dialogue than he had previously. It wasn’t incredibly fluent, but Miller could at least deduce what he was saying this time around, commenting on the quality of the night. His eyes glimmered in the light of the flame as his gaze honed in on the ax. The scene that had transpired earlier was still fresh in his mind like a film he had re-watched for the twentieth time.

“Yes… It has proved to be an interesting night” the beast blandly spoke as though he was in a trance. His attention went back to the man as he became a bit curious of who he was. His features showed that he was an older fellow, so definitely not a student, however, he hadn’t seen a teacher like him before. Perhaps he was one of the science teachers. Either way, he supposed some sort of introduction was in order, given the fact that he was able to identify that on his own there was still hope that he could one day become a functioning part of this social society.

“I’m…” before he could finish his sentence though, he heard the rustling pick up again, though it was notably closer than before. Miller’s eyes darted quickly to investigate, his night oriented vision finally being something other than a draw back. He could clearly see that a nearby brush was bustling with activity, meaning that something was on its way over. Knowing the forest as well as he does, he guessed it was nothing good. Miller’s teeth rumbled with anxiety and he leaned over to Lockwood. “…I think something might be coming…”

    Lockwood heard many things voicing out in agony inside his torso, but the most distinctive sound made its debut as he felt rib cage snap back into its original position. The pressure that his organs have been holding up attempting to hold up from being completely mushed was finally released, and Lockwood could now breath as easy again. Feeling quite relaxed, he took his fallen limb  on the side and forced it into the giant gash on where it should be, and held it there until he could feel the flesh stretching out and touching once again as the muscles begin connecting together. Besides the obvious torn fabric and the continuing sound of skin trying to taste the air, Lockwood was starting to have the appearance of something human. He still was coughing out small, tiny chunks and the missing legs may be problematic. Lockwood thought this was annoying for the next few days, or weeks, or a month, but also glad that everything else is still in shape not counting the regrowth for the last few minutes.

    When Miller leaned toward Lockwood, he was able to get a more understandable view of the boy. It took him a  few moments to identify him due to how dark the shadows are and his head was still a bit on the woozy side, but he was able recognize him as that one student with that strange arm that he heard about, while they never had actually met face to face, he had spotted him around the academy from time to time. He mentioned someone coming, which isn't a surprise. It was still an explosion, and explosions can be heard from several yards away if close enough. Plus, he heard the rumors about this particular fellow, Lockwood was pretty sure that the student wouldn't want another unsavory one about this event.

    "Hide me," Lockwood spoke, though it came out more of a harsh whisper then an actual command. 

As Miller awaited the other man’s advice, his chest contributed to the conversation by crackling and converging to a different location. It was enough to make anyone want to gag, but Miller didn’t exactly have the time to express his disgust as the noise came closer. The professor chimed in with the suggestion of hiding him, which was an admirable idea if they were at any other location on the campus. The meadow did not lend itself to being anything more than a flat plain with the only notable point of interest being a giant tree, but even then, lugging Lockwood’s body that far wasn’t going to do them any favours.

Miller had to think quickly, where could he hide the teacher? There wasn’t enough snow around to bury him, not to mention that a giant lump of snow at his size would be suspicious and wasn’t like the bladed being had time to disguise him as a snowman. He could hop atop the man’s body and harden his skin to trick their pursuer into thinking that they were a strangely disoriented rock, but Miller couldn’t hold his breath for longer than what was necessary to fool the rattling bush. He couldn’t toss the body into the brush considering that was the origin of their issue. The stump would have to do for the time being and given the size of the fire, it could hide him rather well.

The beast pushed down on Lockwood, ducking his body behind the width of the trunk and stated “try not to move” as though it was helpful advice.

Out from the guise of pine needles and dead branches arose an animal of quadruped descent, a beast that was the size of a grizzly bear and the basic shape, except for the head. The face of the creature was almost non-existent considering that its mouth and infinite rows of teeth that would make a shark jealous were the only sight at the forefront. The technical name for the being was Spinebiter, for obvious reasons, and the petit nostrils just above its ghastly lips were flexing quite a bit, suggesting that it found its way here through the scent of rotted flesh flying through the air.

The realization hit Miller like a truck, though he was frozen in place due to how uncertain he was about the situation. ‘If you insist on protecting this man then you must destroy that creature. We know you won’t though and we’ll surely die if you do anything else but ditch the man and run to safety. You cannot reason with a beast, no matter how much you try to grovel.’ His mind’s words stunk of the truth. Miller couldn’t fight the creature, at least he had no idea of how to go about it without killing the Spinebiter. Not only that, it wasn’t like he could toss the teacher over his shoulder and run away. Even if he was just a torso, Miller’s arm couldn’t carry all that weight on its own. If he had two hands though, that would be a different story entirely.

“…Can you move yourself yet?” Miller asked as he began to stand once more and faced the demonic looking beast. “There’s a… mouth with legs here. Any suggestions?” he nervously added, hoping that the professor could come up with a better plan than what Miller had in mind, which was basically throwing himself at the beast and hoping that Lockwood could drag himself to safety.

    When Miller pulled Lockwood behind the stump, he felt his arms finally linking up the tissues and muscles to their correct. He flexed out his arms, and with only some minor jerking and twitching, his arms were back in business, besides the missing fingers. He gripped the side of the stump to casually lift himself up to where his eye level is just above the top, and saw a strange, repugnant creature that was comparatively the size of a horse. "Oh my," Lockwood breathed out.

    With haste, and despite the wooziness that was still lingering inside his head, Lockwood scanned the meadow. At a few meters away, he saw his necromatic staff conveniently sticking out of the ground from bottom up. Ideas and plans were beginning to formulate in his head, repeatedly replaying scenarios as he took another look at the creature. It reminded him of a dog he saw while in his youth, just without the gaping, toothy hole of a mouth that might be able to devour him whole at his current state. But despite the horrendous looks, Lockwood wanted to get closer, to see where this beast came from. He doesn't recall having that kind of beast roaming around the island, and in normal situations, would just have his minions tear it to pieces. However, a crazy idea struck him, and with that idea, he almost giggled if he wasn't still having his body reforming inside.

    When he heard his savior asking for suggestions, Lockwood finalized his plans and carefully said in a more serious tone, "Listen up lad, we have a few options, and you may not enjoy them unfortunately. Now, " Lockwood coughed up more chunks as he pointed to his seemingly distant staff, "If you could- ooogh -bring my staff over there all the way back to little, torn up me, and I'll deal with the beast accordingly; I wish to tame the beast myself, despite my condition. Or, if you are confident in your skills, engage with the beast." Lockwood turned over, "If you are willing- *cough* -bring my staff, do not worry about me, I still got some fight left in me."

    In an effort to show that he still "got some fight left," he raised his arms upward to Miller and made arm motions that appears to be fighting stance if he had legs to stand on. 

Miller didn’t quite have the confidence in himself to engage the beast in combat because he knew he would hold himself back at any opportunity he would have to overpower his enemy, whereas the Spinebiter would have no difference in preference. That being said though, he was unsure about leaving the professor to hold his own with merely fisticuffs against a monster that could gobble him up by accidentally tripping over the stump of their home base. Miller’s eyes drifted to the fireplace next to Lockwood, minding the heated pike that was still roasting and while he didn’t want to suggest it as an option, the man’s eyes would probably fall on it if the crisis called for it anyway.

Miller directed his attention over to the staff that Lockwood mentioned and then back at the beast that was ready to rampage over to their position. The contest would come down to which of the two were faster, Miller or the Spinebiter. Miller wasn’t comfortable with the results if he lost the race, but he supposed he had to enter the competition regardless of that. “I-I… I’m on it” Miller stated solemnly. It wasn’t exactly the time to debate such things or second guess himself, he had to move or someone was going to die. He gulped and began to trot away, though he turned back to the man in mid-sprint and added “just… letting you know” whilst pointing at the fire pit, more specifically the heated steel plank. He both regretted and applauded himself for making that option available. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the guilt if it lead to the death of the beast, but for now it was a viable route to take and even he had to admit it.

With that, Miller sprinted as fast as his legs could allow him, a dust of snow kicking up in his wake as his raw power was put onto display. It was something quite majestic, his blade keeping in motion with the rest of his body and using the momentum of its weight to push him forward in a faster motion rather than slowing him down as some would expect. Within a matter of seconds, he snapped the distant between him and the lich’s staff like a twig over his knee and snatched the rod from its resting place.

He whipped his head back around, his gaze falling upon the distance between Lockwood and the ever ravenous beast. It was a close call, but he had no choice other than sprint back around, no time for speculation. He swiftly performed a U-turn back around, staff clutched tightly in his other hand. As the gap between the two came closer and closer, Miller pelted his feet harder against the ground. As he came in closer, he toss the staff at the teacher and threw his blade length wise against the creature’s great maw, The two clashed in a way, though the beast still clamped down against Miller’s sword, trying to crush it within its jaws, but failing horribly. It was like his blade acted as a wedge that kept a door from closing. "Quickly."

    When Miller ran off to retrieve the staff, Lockwood sat up as the best he can, or as close to sitting up without a bottom to sit on with each arm trying to straighten himself to face the incoming adversary. Now that he got a better view of the creature, it was a sight to behold. He wondered if he could bring its body back to the classroom and take it part, and maybe stick it into some experimental bodies for results, if his classroom wasn't blown to smithereens. Lockwood made a mental note in his scrambled head to sneak it inside the kitchen later on. For now, the beast suddenly pounced into a sprint as it came horrifically running towards the legless teacher with its gaping mouth coming ever so closer. 

    From out of all the emotions Lockwood could be feeling, the ones that are present that comes to mind is nervousness, tense, and excitement, with the last one being shot up to eleven when Miller made quick work with his feet and halted the beast's approach with his blade arm. Lockwood's staff landed with a soft smack against the snow and dirt with the tip giving off a menacing gaze like it was viewing the world as an inferior land, and demanded to be held. Lockwood was glad to heed that request.

    Gripping the staff, a purple glowing circle formed around Lockwood, who slowly floated just about three feet from the ground. with the unearthly glow creating shades of dark in all the right places. His presence floated higher with his hair flowing free in the chilling winds. "I suggest standing out of the way lad. I've got this little beasty all to me now." he gravely demanded, you can hear the blood-lust coming out from his throat. He waved his staff on the ground and in a few moments hands and arms of varying lengths and sizes burst out from the grounds around the beast. Out of all the numerous hands, two giant-like hands of extreme width and length clapped with a brutal smash, crushing the beast from each side, with its squirming with lessened effort. The clap became a grip as the hands of the many then pulled the beast down into the brown, bloody dirt slowly with it's maw becoming completely void of the hands of the dead, as the last glimpse of it was buried by dirt.

    Lockwood continued to flow from the ground, suspended with staff's magic as support and without the glowing purple. He took a breath of air, and calmed himself as he levitated to where the creature sank and drew a big 'X'.

The beast’s teeth continued to gnash against the boy’s blade, following up Miller’s arm until the demon could find a place in which he could actually do some damage to the man opposing it. Luckily Miller caught onto the scheme of the creature very quickly and in the instant that the creature’s head began to move, Miller allowed his body to crystalize and make his flesh that much harder to pierce. The beast attempted to chew some more, not exactly having much other attacking options considering the structure of its body.

Miller was still frightened though, he had no idea how long it would take for the teacher to conjure up some sort of taming ritual, hoping that it wouldn’t take much longer than he could hold his breath for because he might’ve been in his hardened skin for merely seconds, but the adrenaline pumping through him cried for more air. He heard the teacher’s warning in due time, and while he couldn’t see the man from his position, he felt something peculiar in the atmosphere, like Lockwood was somehow floating in the air. It mattered little at the moment and Miller unfroze himself and rolled out of the way, expecting that the ritual would require the Spinebiter as an open target in order to function properly. The blade wielding boy could hardly understand technology, far be it from him to wrap his head around magic.

He panted heavily, his face being parallel to the ground. It had been so long since he had moved that quickly and his body was punishing him for it. His attention was pre-occupied with trying to catch his brain up to speed with what was going on, so he didn’t catch much of the murderous show, but he at least saw the finishing blow as the monster exited stage right for good. Miller’s thousand yard stare was broken by a series of confused and terrified blinks. ‘See? He would’ve killed it anyway. If we would’ve done it there would be no difference. In fact, our way would’ve been much less painful.’

Miller’s weakly knees were what held him back from standing up fully, but like a baby deer he eventually stood up correctly, making slow movements over to the ground where the beast had been previously. He made a quick cross gesture along his torso, it had religious meaning, but frankly Miller wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, he merely copied it because he saw other people do it before.

His emotions dwelled on the depressive side, feeling awful about the way in which the creature perished. The fact that it had met death was enough to make him grieve for the animal, but knowing that the beast probably met the end of its life the worse way possible pushed it over the edge a bit. A fit of rage burned in his chest as his eyes fell on Lockwood, though he quelled it as best he could considering he just witnessed what the man would do if he got on his bad side. “It- you said you could tame it…” Miller stated with a wide-eyed innocent expression as he peered toward the X marking. He understood why it had to be done, but his little heart couldn’t fathom death no matter how often it was littered around him. ‘How is that the better option? You would’ve allowed him to enslave the creature? That would make us no better than the scientists!’

“There’s always another way…” Miller grumbled softly.

‘That other way would’ve cost us all of our lives. You were insistent on saving the man’s life. The beast had to die. It was one or the other. You didn’t have to stick around to see the results, but you did.’

    Lockwood stared down at the 'X' he had just finished sketching at the dirt. He was silent as he kept staring, like he was waiting for the beast to burst right out to the surface. The dirt did not made any sign of doing so, and was like that for the next minute and two as Lockwood floated still above the X. He heard Miller murmuring, and from the sound of it, didn't approve of what had transpired here, Lockwood understood why, as it was rather gruesome to watch.

    Floating down and landing on the dirt, Lockwood leaned down and placed an ear just above the dirt, listening for any sudden movements or voices. When he heard nothing, Lockwood began to grin once again as he float right back up. With a dull tap with his staff, he simply said, "Rise." The ground pushed upward more and more, and a rotted skeleton of a creature that was a similar size to the Spinebiter rose from the ground, remaining eerily motionless as the smell of flesh permitted the wind. Lockwood floated down and simply stuck his arm into the bony mass with a quick jab and as quickly, pulled out a small charm of straw and rope.

    It was a circle of carefully strung up straw with small, tiny strings keeping the charm together. Inside the circle was all the strings circling up a sphere of straw, which then Lockwood slightly parted the lines away to reveal small, dried up animal hearts, mostly consisting of small rodents. Also inside was a tiny piece of paper with some intangible symbols drawn in ink. He examined the charm diligently, turning it around and poking it with the side of his staff occasionally.

    "My word, it's sloppily-made necromatic charm, and by my annoyance, this is the work of an amateur," he complained. He floated over to Miller, charm in hand. "I'm sorry lad, I didn't mention to you earlier, but this... creature was already dead, you see, I know the smell of a rotting corpses like the back of my hand." He slightly turned toward the carcass, "When I said I was going to tame it, I meant it as, well, taking control of the beast by, in simple terms, overriding the magic that was animating this body." He held up the charm. "This, my lad, is a charm made for completely reanimating a corpse into a living being, which is, or was, giving all of its parts, like the skin and muscles what not, it original state before it originally died, so to say. But whoever made this, they really didn't do a good job making this charm though, it's really off-proportional, which explains why I could smell it.

    Lockwood shrugged, "Even if you were able to outmatch its strength, it would just get back up and start charge right at you directly again. Even with this horrendous craftsmanship, it still serves its purpose, to create an aggressive attack corpse," he then patted Miller on the back, "But hey, be glad that you ran into me, eh?"

Miller continued to mull over the marking on the land, watching as the professor proceeded with whatever ritual he was doing. The bladed boy couldn’t help but feel insulted for the being as Lockwood was clearly desecrating the beast’s grave site, his inner voice attempting to wager him to do something he normally wouldn’t in his moment of weakness. ‘If you truly feel bad for that monstrous being, do as the book says and trade an eye for an eye. He’s clearly a murdering fiend, if you had any sense of justice you would stab him through the torso while he’s still distracted.’ Miller did nothing more than shove the comments to the back of his mind, not wanting to delve through that route.

In due time the skeleton rose from the ground once more, the necromancer digging through the remains for something. Miller didn’t know what and was restraining himself to another level not to bat the man away from what was left of the deceased creature, but he naturally ventured off without Miller’s say. He held some sort of charm, even displaying it as he approached the boy once again. He didn’t quite follow the explanation that Lockwood had handed out, not really understanding some of the terminology on top of being lost in the field of magic, but overall he got the gist of it. The creature had died, someone revived it, and Lockwood laid it to rest. His eyes dimmed for a bit, as his face scrunched in an attempt to piece what Lockwood said together. “So, someone made it to attack us, who?” he asked curiously, as though he expected Lockwood would have the answer to that. It was a field he didn’t understand, so he assumed that the lich might have a way to track it back to someone.

‘He’s bluffing, trying to earn your trust. He killed that animal, kill him the same way. Get angry, get revenge.’ He grunted as he wiped his head in frustration. Even if the situation had come to a conclusion, the event was still heavily effecting him mentally. He was unsure if anything he had done during the night was the right thing to do, unsure of what Lockwood’s stance was, though the boy wanted to trust him, he gave off too much of a shady air to swing Miller’s opinion otherwise. It wasn’t like he was easy to trust someone anyway.

Miller was abruptly brought back into reality as the professor patted him on the back, his head shaking very slightly from the action. “Yes, tonight would have been very different if you hadn’t shown up” he agreed very ominously as his gaze fell upon his blade, more specifically the gashes and markings caused by both the ax and the feral beast’s teeth. His attention then went to the fire as it still burned quite bright.

Miller stood quite for a few brief seconds as his mind dwelled on the subject of his blade once more, turning toward Lockwood once more. He held up the sword to the floating torso, displaying the craftsmanship and curves of the tool. “With uh… that out of the way, what should I do with this?” he nervously asked, unsure if he should even question the teacher about it. While it did come in handy during the previous skirmish, he could’ve preformed the same tasks without it, not to mention that it was still quite the heavy chain and ball that was preventing him from blending in with society.