Survivor's Curse

Survivor's Curse

Chapter 3: Bloodmarked

Kalen's breath was ragged, his heart pulsating in his chest as he slowly advanced toward the wolf. Blood oozed from the creature's nose, a sickenly black ooze that dripped onto the cold floor. Illuminating the room were the embers in its eyes which were sightless.

The beast's head hung low still trying to sniff the air through its mutilated nose. Its teeth were bared, canines high as they scoured all over for their prey. Kalen noticed that its movements were slower, sluggish even. Its sense of smell was still active albeit partially.

"It wasn't good enough," Kalen muttered under his breath. His hands still gripping onto the blood-soaked sword staring at the beast as it lunged, with its maw ripped open to crush its prey.

But this time, Kalen was ready. 

He shifted his weight just enough, dodging the beast's deciding strike just by a few inches. The wolf's jaw snapped close in thin air, and Kalen's sword came down in a sharp arc, missing the wolf's body but grazing its throat. It wallowed in pain, recoiling violently but it was still alive and deadly.

Blood poured from the wound but the wolf relented. It was focused on him only, tracking him by scent. Kalen backed away with his legs shaking from exhaustion but his grip on the sword didn't loosen instead it grew tighter. His eyes never left the creature no matter how tired he was.

Its head hung low again as it stalked forward, nostrils flaring out to seek out its prey. Once grasped he lunged again towards Kalen But this time Kalen had been calculating this moment. 

Kalen darted to the side, rolling on his back before jolting back up, sword in hand. His feet pushed against the stone to spring back to his feet with practiced swiftness. He waited in account for the right moment. The wolf had locked itself in Kalen's position. Nostrils flared with each desperate breath. 

Then, without warning, the wolf's claws raked across Kalen's side with a deafening swipe. Kalen screamed, "Agh, SHIT!" as the pain exploded through him, blood seeping from the wound but he fought to stay focused. 

"You won't get me that easily!" Kalen gritted through clenched teeth.

In a burst of instinctive rage and hunger, the wolf lunged one final time, faster than Kalen had even expected. But this time, he didn't run...he stepped aside narrowly avoiding the beast's maw. 

In the same instance, an opening had presented itself. He thrust the sword forward aiming for the wolf's throat, aiming for a blind spot it couldn't track; the space where the head meets the shoulders. This time it was a guaranteed hit. The sword was driven into the soft flesh just beneath the wolf's jaw.

The beast jerked back violently, its breath turning into a once proud raspy scream as it staggered back, blood spilling from the gruesome wound. It faltered, collapsing onto the stone floor with a deafening thud, with the last embers of its life fading away.

Kalen stood over the wolf's body. His chest heaved heavily as he felt the adrenaline fade leaving him with a feeling of emptiness. He had won but not without a cost.

Kalen still breathing erratically, wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. He looked back towards the door that had shut him in, feigning innocence. Looking down at the black pool of blood surrounding the wolf. Kalen allowed himself to relish in the victory. He was alive. He had survived and won. 

Victory. But was it truly a victory?

Falling to the ground and unable to catch his breath, the labyrinth spoke:

"Ah…little pawn. You endure. You bleed. You survive. For now…"

The sound had echoed in every corner, walls pulsing as the mocking voice resounded through them.

Kalen was still trembling from the adrenaline and victory, wiping the blood on his worn and tattered tunic.

His eyes narrowed.

"Enough." His voice was horse, but defiant.

He had expected mockery but not this. Victory felt hollow now that it had been tainted by the labyrinth's unassuming tone.

Once again the labyrinth spoke:

"You've fought bravely, but you are still a mere piece in this endless game. So, to celebrate your triumph… I shall grant you a gift."

Kalen's eyes widened. A gift? Was this some sort of joke? He held tight to the sword's hilt, but he didn't lower it. Not when he didn't know what was going to happen next.

"I shall grant you the power of Voidweaving. The ability to manipulate the fabric of space itself. With this power, you shall have to carve your way forward, bending reality to your will. Or be devoured by it.

Kalen's body screamed at him to move. But he was frozen, held down by the entity known as the labyrinth. 

'Voidweaving' the word crept into Kalen's ear rooting deep in his mind. "The power to carve your way forward….or to be devoured by it"

Something burned deep in his soul. Kalen gasped and staggered, It felt as if space had been cracked open around him. It felt as if the sensation of magic was poured into his body again, awakening his senses of this new power 'Voidweaving.'

Was this a gift or a curse?

A sly smile found itself on Kalen's face. 

'Fine, I'll use this same power to kill you.'

The air trembled. The walls shuddered. It was as if the space was curling inwardly pressing toward Kalen's skin like unseen hands.

"You amuse me, Forsaken."

Kalen stiffened. "Forsaken?" His breath still ragged, he wiped the sweat from his brow. 

"No. His voice was hoarse and firm. I have a name it's-

"Ah…no, not Forsaken. Bloodmarked. Yes, that suits you better.."

The voice coiled around as if it was temporarily releasing him from its serpentine hold. The black blood of the wolf had already begun to vanish, seeping into the obsidian stone as if it had never been there. The only proof of the battle was his aching muscles and the cold iron grip of the sword that weighed at his hip.

"And now, Bloodmarked, your trial ends."

The floor beneath him pulsed with light an unnatural light spawning that slithered up to his legs like chains made of raw, pure magic. Kalen's body tensed as he felt the weight of the chains dragging him.

"Ah, but look at you," the voice mused. "A wretched sight, worn, tattered and bloodied. Such a pitiful being."

The shadows coiled around him, flailing around and forming into dark fabric. The cloak fluttered before setting on his shoulders.

"There, " the labyrinth said with an amused tone. "At least his will help you look less pathetic while journeying through the unknown, undetected by those who want the world to die."

"Wait! He took a shaky step forward, resisting the pull. There's no town here! No people! Where are you even sending me?"

"Does it matter?" 

The voice was neither cruel nor kind. Simply unmoving.

The sigils beneath him expanded, unraveling like some part of a network. It felt as if space itself was being torn apart. He wasn't simply being thrown out - he was being cast out into the unknown.

"Explore the Dark Hollows, the Tundra, the Desert, the Forgotten Plains, and the Deepforest. There, you can find the answer you so desire. Or perhaps…..

The voice curled around him as if leaning in to whisper at the back of his skull

"...you will only lose yourself further."

The light surged, swallowing him whole. His body twisted, weightless as if he had been sent to the abyss with no end. The last thing he saw was the labyrinth's cold unmoving walls. The last thing he heard:

"Farewell, Bloodmarked. Do try not to disappoint me."

And then, the world shattered.