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Undying Will 100 This Is War! 4 Mad Men And Women

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Breta felt a sense of unexplainable fear rush through her spine as she looked behind her. Her black hair curled to the side as she unhesitatingly clutched onto Terrick's shoulder. Angella looked over at her questioningly as she brought her finger to her lips.

Terrick did not glance back at her, but she could feel the clench of his shoulders as her hand touched his clothe. He had taken notice of a silhouette through the haze of the corridor. It had to be the high priestess, and she was pretty much the last person that he wanted to face at this time.

He looked over at Angella who looked over at him from behind the other wall with a sense of forced calm. 'Do we do this?' his eyes seemed to ask the thin women.

With a serious nod she took point. As she did Terrick turned around looking at the stricken look that his companion had shot towards him.

"What is it?" He whispered. Breta merely shook her head, hastily hiding the fear that shot through her spine a second time.

This time however, Terrick too had felt something. A skin crawling sensation that blindsided his calm façade. An illusion of movement appeared on the periphery of his vision. A limping figure whose entire frame was blurry as if it was seen through the heated mirage of a torrid desert.

Each step seemed to shake his mind as his eyes dilated and his heart rate skyrocketed. With a double take however, the scene was no more.

"Hurry up will you?" Angella hissed from the other side of the wall, not taking her eyes off the translucent veil that characterized the end of the long corridor.

It seemed that the high priestess' quarters was spa.r.s.e in its design, much like the floors below and above. Its overall structure was wholly minimalistic, opting for a vibe of penitence and silence to the rambunctious cheer that had filled Angella's life the past few weeks.

The walls gleamed in a mixture of ash grey and pearly white colors, always blocked by a sway of gentle fog that had somehow even traversed into the deep end of the fragrant temple.

The translucent reddish curtain signified the end of the long and frankly unenthusiastic hallway, giving a harsh contrast with its sudden presence of color. At its very top was a line of embroidered gold, st.i.tched in the guise of a towering archway, giving the curtain a certain level of sophistication that Breta was not used to.

On the other end of the curtain was a curvaceous figure, that Breta rightly a.s.sumed to be that of the high priestess. The women seemed to have her head up, and in the process of ingesting something. 'Probably elixir.' Breta rationalized as she looked at Terrick seriously.

With a nod the three approached the cloth from three different directions. Terrick took the right while Angella took the left. Breta was left fis.h.i.+ng in the very center. Her looks guaranteed her the position of a distraction, for only she looked residential enough to belong to the island and thus qualified to ferry messages to the head of the island.


As she peered into the curtain, the first thing that surprised her was the lack of the pinkish tinge of the air. The walls were colored in an overarching green with streaks of vermillion shooting through.

At the very center of the room was a knee deep pool of clear water that she a.s.sumed to be where the high priestess bathed. To the right was a platter with a collection of meat and drink, a scanty few fruits too existed on it flabbergasting the naïve girl of the island.

At the top of the room directly above the pool was a figure of a roaring Yuda, colored in an archaic grey with streaks of black that shot through its scales. Its eyes looked to be of a strange yellow, gleaming with a level of intelligence that could only be portrayed in a master's artwork.

Its curling body was contoured by its silky black mane that seemed to shake illusion-like in a nonexistent wind.

At the very back of the room was a masterful bed, with sheets made of the heart scales of sea kings, the softest and most luxurious of its materials, and layered with the same gold that existed on the curtain.

In the center of the pool the high priestess kneeled, completely naked with a brownish earthen pitcher of elixir. A melancholy smile on her face as she closed her eyes, savoring the scanty and aromatic intoxication that came with the cultural drink.

Her silky brown hair stood elegantly on her pet.i.te back, flowing coolly down her back.

A small gasp escaped Breta's mouth as she watched the creeping figure of her companion. Terrick sneaked behind the women, a makes.h.i.+ft baton ready in his hands, that he had salvaged from his side of the room. With a quick movement he swung down.

Alas Breta's gasp had alerted the women, for she whipped her head to the side and quickly leapt to her feet, an angry light in her eyes, clouded only partly by her drink.

"Humpf, I should have known!" She spat out, her voice dripping with a level of venom that made Breta wince.

"An outsider, are you an ally to the invader? As if terrorizing my people was not enough you sneak into my island to a.s.sa.s.sinate me? And you there, islander, why do you share hands with these outsiders!? A Traitor to your own home!" She snarled whipping her head towards Breta as, making no move to cover herself as she raged.

"The invader?" Angella voiced, doubts lingering in the air as she looked confused towards Terrick who shrugged in confusion.

"Humph don't play the fool with me girl!" She roared as she looked over at Angella before doubling back at the recognizable women.

"You! You're the sacrifice, who let you out?!"

"I let myself out, now then HOST would you be so kind as to explain to me the reason for my kidnapping? Are you in such dire need for brains that you have to look outside of your puny well?" Angella retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she shot a look to Terrick, silently telling him to remain silent. It wasn't like there could be anything else that could go wrong.

The high priestess wound up to her full height as she growled at Angella, a barely seen gleam of guilt quickly quelled beneath the interior of her eyes.

"It is your Honor, to be chosen as the meal to the world eater! How dare you!?" Once more dogma ran out her mouth as she repeated what she had been taught by those before her, and what she had in turn taught those that came after.

This time it was Terrick that snorted, playfully smiling at the women.

Since the time he had landed on the island he had faced the pressure wrought by helplessness, if he had not met Breta who had shown him a method to save his crew he would have done something extremely stupid. He was in dire need of a means to vent, and since the high priestess had scapegoat-ed herself so beautifully, who was he to refuse?

"Anything else that you want to get off your chest, recorded or otherwise, it's not like we're all grownup enough to tell apart truth and falsehoods right?" He said, equally as sarcastic as Angella.

A cornered feeling rose in the high priestess' chest as she looked around her, the dealings of the day returning to attack her psyche as fear for once overtook her. Not for herself, but for her people. The pressure that it took to care for the lives of an island of people day in and day out, knowing full well that the one that they considered a deity would more than happily chomp them up.

And now, faced with a foreign threat from a wave of sea kings that could just as easily flatten all that she and her predecessors worked for, proved to be too much for the women. And so in a burst of rage and released emotions she began to rant..

*************Merla hummed a happy tune as she skipped through the hall ways, a stream of blood flowing from the dagger that she clutched in her right hand. A scent of flowers flew unhindered around her as a pleasant image of a free pathway and glaring sunlight filled her juvenile mind.

Today was the best day of her life, sans of course the bitter tasting medicine that her lord had made her eat of course. After she had retched voraciously she had been reborn, the world around her seemed to gleam in a volley of colors that she had never seen before as a halo of glorious yellow had covered her lord.

Now she did as He had asked her, she roamed through the hallways killing everyone in sight. After all, they were all heathens. And heathens deserved to die, No?

AS she walked through the hallways she saw the figure of an old man hobbling into the priests quarters. Any other time, she would have left the quarters for last. Everyone there was merely a lamb waiting patiently to be slaughtered, but now, after she saw the old man she could not help but gnash her teeth.

Silently she prowled towards the senile old coot, her lips wet at the thought of killing another faker. With quick steps she had gotten behind the man, with a tap on his shoulder she watched with a demented grin.

As the man turned around she stabbed towards his torso, relis.h.i.+ng in the quick change that occurred on his face, a surprised expression quickly turning to that of panic and horror. He would have screamed, had he been less terrified. He would have run, had he been less terrified.

But alas.. With a quick stroke she took out her knife, blood sprayed all around her, drops even falling to her face with one falling on her thin lips.

With a small pout she licked it, running her tongue across her thin lips as a red trail followed her tongue. As soon as she was done she walked on, not even glancing at the downed man a second time. A jaunty tune on her lips as she continued on.

"Heaha, serves you right heathen!" She whispered as she circled the corner, happier that she had gotten back at the old foggy, then she was a few minutes ago.

Tye lay there in a pool of his own blood as he stared at the back of the retreating girl, a look of stricken horror and deep sated confusion. With one final raspy gasp his chest collapsed, his head lolled to the side and his tongue rolled out of it slightly, eyes still open in rebellion at the foul way in which he had been killed.

Her bright expression suddenly soured. For before her she saw the stairs that led to her teachers quarters. The biggest faker of them all!

She had sworn of her faith in Him, and yet, when times got hard, she was the first to denounce Him! Merla could not stand it! So she walked forward into that dark and dreary hallway, a s.a.d.i.s.tic smile on her lips and a creepy tune spoken out in whispers…

******

The high priestess heaved as she looked around her. Terrick, Angella and Breta looked gob smacked, Terrick had never seen someone breakdown the way she had.

True he had seen people breakdown, but they had all been on their knees begging for their lives with tears in their eyes. She on the other hand reminded him of the look Lorean had on Ohara when he had seen the destruction that the marines had caused.

With a deep sigh the high priestess finally settled down, through her spiel she had begun to feel cold, now she wrapped her hands around her bare chest trying not to s.h.i.+ver.

"So. What do you want?" She asked in a cold voice glaring at Terrick.

"Meh, we heard that you have a potion that we need. We came to get that." He said looking around trying to find the object of his search.

Suddenly Breta began to s.h.i.+ver, the chill that she had previously felt returned, harder than before, her spine seemed to curl up on itself. Terrick paled immediately moving. With a quick movement he jumped onto the high priestess and amidst screeches of indignance and rage, pushed her into the water of the pool bending his head at the same time.

Just in time too, for as soon as they ducked into the water, a screech sounded shadowing a thrown projectile that looked very similar to a kitchen cleaver.

"O Teacher~~ Where are you~?" A sweat and sick voice called out as the high priestess' student walked into the room. A crazy look in her eyes and an eerie smile on her face.

Though she looked like she usually did, her face seemed off, her smile seemed to be a tad bit too big, her eyes with shadows that danced deranged in the background of the soft hazel that on any other day would have rea.s.sured all that looked at it.

The thing that gave her away though, of course other than the obvious, was the trail of blood that flowed leisurely from her hand, as if on a vacation. Of course that could be true seeing as the blood on her hand once belonged somewhere else.

"I'm here to kiill youu~~~!"


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Undying Will 100 This Is War! 4 Mad Men And Women summary

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