Snippet #2271419

With a roar that could have pierced into each one of the planes themselves, the terrifying beast had been defeated. Quest watched in awe as the 'Reapers' dispatched the mighty foe. Sure enough, one by one, as the massive one before it, the smaller Lost Souls fell as well. This left only the more human-like spirits, bound in their chains. Squirming on the ground.

"Who's that?" Quest pointed to a man draped in a long black coat. Most of his face was hidden underneath a black hood, strands of white, and bright blue eyes were the only distinguishable features of this spectre other than his impressive height. The Maori noted the lighter in his left hand, and the blood soaked scythe dragging from his right. A ring of fire had appeared around them, contained to the warehouse. At first he was alarmed, but then he realized that this--the man, and the flames, were not real. They were ethereal in appearance, harmless to them--he noticed when a stray ember landed on his hip.

Although the man in the flame looked like spiritual bodies, their nature didn't seem to lie in that. More Maori and warehouse workers appeared. They were completely human now, bound in chains just like the Lost that had attacked him. This massive man, and six other hooded figures before him loomed over their apparent figures.

In the native tongue, one of them said: "We are the guardians of this place! You have no right to what lies within! These are not for mortal hands!"

The hooded men simply replied with a blade through the man's chest. Several more who stood up were murdered before his eyes, the others were left with a much more gruesome fate, burned alive by the flame.

Quest looked away. He'd seen enough of his tortured people for today.

"I need to get out of here." He looked at Tekil, as if for approval. "You're friend went running off."