Snippet #1421186

“Nice to meet ya, Demetrius!” Seamus let go of his hand and for the first time since he arrived at the estate he gave a genuine smile. “Yeah, I’m the reporter appointed for the trip,” he continued believing his own little lie. “I’ll be taking yer interview as soon as I’m after visiting the Ruins. You look a little knackered so guess I’ll see ya at the house. Maybe at the bar later dis afternoon?”
He grinned at the thought of having someone to share a glass or two with in the evening, maybe even a good conversation as Demetrius seemed to be the only one from the group with at least one similar hobby. He thought that the other thing they had in common was their passion for writing, although they belonged to different fields of work. After he got his answer Seamus saw Elise going into the woods alone, then Nathan quickly heading in the same direction after her.

“ We’ll give an homage to dear ol’ Bacchus if ya want!” he shouted thinking of Demetrius’ Greek origin as he rushed after the others from the group, not wanting to miss the rest of the events.

Iris was going side by side with Madalene towards the Ruins, both of them chatting and getting to know each other a little better. They were obviously having fun and the Irishman drew near after hearing their giggles. Just before they reached the stony walls all covered in green moss, Iris heard a familiar sound, a ripple coming from within the forest. She asked Madalene to indulge her and leaving the exploration of the actual Ruins for later, they ventured into the greenery, beyond the smaller trees in front of them. Seamus was right on their trail, walking with heavy steps and letting his presence known. After fifteen minutes or so they reached another clearing, not wider than the one from which they came.

There everything was sparkling like in a fairy tale and the rays of the sun were hotter than anywhere else in the forest. Iris took a deep breath and held it for a moment, concentrating on the murmur she heard before. The sound was getting louder and louder with each step they took and as they passed through the flowery clearing leaving Madalene behind, Seamus and Iris were rushing towards the place from where the soothing sounds came. Her ears haven’t misled her, in front of the dancer a river was making its way through the tall grass and mushy soil, clear as a mirror. Just a couple of feet away a waterfall was embracing the steep rocks. She ran to the water and cupped her hands together, drinking with haste.

The cold refreshing liquid went down her throat cooling the dancer’s body from within. Seamus was right beside her, a couple of steps away, drinking with loud sounds, gulping like a wild animal. He washed his face and took off his shirt –now full of dirt- and sprinkled cold water on his neck, chest and stomach washing off the sweat that gathered on his skin. Iris looked at him bewildered as he started to unbutton his pants.

“Wha’? I don’ mind if ya wanna take a bath as well, don’ worry I amn’t shy..” he said with a natural tone which implied no vulgarity, rather a subtle mockery. Iris took another sip just before turning her back and left the Irishman to have his fun.

With a loud “hmpf!” Seamus got in the water just in his underpants, feet first, leaving his clothes on the shore. He suddenly felt chilly and a gust of wind passed through him giving him the goosebumps. The water wasn’t deep enough for someone to drown, but he could lie on the surface and even swim a bit from side to side. The man let himself go and his body started to float slowly downstream. The gentle waves brushing against his skin were having a therapeutic effect. Listening to the chirping birds above him, feeling the warmth of the sun on his eyelids, Seamus closed his eyes breathing slowly.

He felt…calm. It was a feeling of peace and relaxation he hadn’t experienced in a long time and the stillness of the forest almost drove him into sleep. Just before dozing off, the red haired man felt a thrust in his stomach, the pain making its way up to the chest. His limbs began to shiver and after a few seconds Seamus was trembling violently in the water like he was having a seizure. With an immense effort he got hold of the riverbank and made his way out of the water, still shaking, his eyes rolling back in his head, his whole body in convulsion.

Madalene arrived after a couple of minutes shocked and frightened of what she was witnessing. She rushed over and started to shout holding his head with the right hand and his torso with the other.

“SOMEBODY HELP ME!” Madalene’s desperate voice was breaking the silence of the forest when Iris came running back, gasping. All she could do was to let out a shriek when she saw the man’s movements growing in intensity.

“GO GET SOMEONE ELSE! ANYONE WITH SOME MEDICAL BACKGROUND!” Madalene shouted back at her, not letting go of the Irishman, trying to hold him down.

The girl jumped in the opposite direction leaving them behind. On her way back she saw the forest getting darker and when she looked up at the sky storm clouds were already gathered in a dense mass above. It started raining with heavy, piercing drops and Iris felt pinches on her skin. It was acid rain. There was no wind, no thunder to announce it. Running like never before she reached the Ruins once again, praying to God that everything will be alright and thanking Him for not getting lost on the way.
She saw Ezreal still looking around by the walls and she remembered the reporter saying something about a biologist with good survival skills. She hoped he was the one and without hesitation she called out to him.

“Heeeey! We need your assistance, somebody has a seizure down by the river, please come quickly!” She felt tears gathering in her eyes and her voice lowering until it was nothing more than a sniff. Her legs gave in and without moving forward she stared at Ezreal, her vision blurry from crying. She was thinking of home, not wanting to be here anymore.

************************************

By the riverside Madalene was already drenched,her sleeveless black dress was soaked on her body. She was cursing under her breath while holding Seamus with all her strength. Her arms hurt from the effort: his body was in spasms that were increasing in intensity by the second and the rain was giving her a hard time as well.

His feet were moving slowly on the scorched earth, not a hint of a breeze, not a drop of water for miles to come. He licked his chapped lips, tasting a drop of blood in the process. His throat was as dry as the soil beneath him and his body felt heavy with every step. How long as he been walking in this desert? Days, weeks, maybe a month. His legs were shaking from the effort and Seamus crashed down on the dune exhausted. Just before closing his eyelids he felt a cool breeze from above him as the sun was blocked by something from the same direction. He looked up forcing his neck.

In front of him was a tall, sinewy man all adorned in golden armor that revealed his muscular arms and torso. A black pair of wings was keeping him off the ground flapping in slow, graceful movements. His black hair was flowing around his perfectly chiseled visage and the look in his eyes had only one word to describe it: fire.

The Irishman let out a curse in his faint voice. “Why can’t I have a normal Fata Morgana? Someone with tits would’ve made my day.” he thought to himself without having the energy to say out loud.

The man opened his mouth and as he spoke to the feeble human at his feet, the scenery seemed to pass through an earthquake.
“"Son of man, listen carefully and take to heart all the words I speak to you!” he said using God’s words in mockery. “Your existence has been bestowed upon you so that you may meet me and accomplish something of greatness in your wretched life. Do not take my presence lightly; do not think of this as the ramblings of your weak mind. I am Semihazah , ruler of Grigori. All I ask of you is this.”

The man closed his mouth looking only into the Irishman’s eyes and pointed to his right. Seamus saw near the fallen angel a woman with long golden hair, dressed in a white stola, looking somewhere beneath her with great sadness. She didn’t seem to know they were watching and she only stood there, breathing slowly. Seamus took a closer look narrowing his dusty eyelids. Her features were familiar, like they belonged to a girl he met a long time ago, somewhere in a forest. The woman changed her position and looked right trough him, as if he wasn’t there, than her eyes fell on Samyaza. Her beautiful eyebrows arched in anger.

“How dare you lay hands on a human!” she burst. Her eyes searched the scenery but it was obvious she couldn’t see Seamus anywhere, something hiding him from her gaze. The Muse was beautiful when enraged and the Irishman couldn’t help but looking at her, his thirst and pain diluting with every word from her lips. “How dare you!” she repeated trying to make her way towards him but with a flick of the hand the angel dispersed her image into thin air. Seamus felt the pain coming back in his body and he saw other faces in his mind: two girls walking slowly on a path, one helping the other, a group of young people heading the opposite way, he was between them. Then a red haired woman and a young girl were just in front of him by a river. “That dancer!” he screamed and all of a sudden he understood everything as if another’s thought was inserted into his mind. The image of the Muse he seen before was identical, only without the dancer’s childish features, an older version of her.
“You won’t let any of the women pass the Gate! Either on our side or not alive at all!”, Samyaza continued in his deep voice.

“I ain’t a murderer ya shitty hallucination!” the Irishman spat at him infuriated by the pain in his body and the thirst in his throat. The angel only gave him a look and Seamus felt his insides burning, the flames taking up all of him from within, scorching his muscles, his skin, everything. He screamed from the bottom of his lungs but all he got in response was the angel’s laughter echoing through the dunes.