~ Sorrow: Noun ~

A feeling of deep distress caused by loss, disappointment, or other misfortune suffered by oneself or others.

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Clip Eight - Amara's POV:

My footsteps echoed off the ruined buildings, rebounding off of the wreckage and making me flinch as it assaulted my eardrums, my head throbbing. 

One of the food scouts had taken the lead, as Sierra had told her that she was going to go scouting in the upper class neighborhoods, hoping to find some good stashes of unspoiled food. 

The sun had risen to the middle of the murky grey sky, signaling that it was around noon. The surrounding buildings were flooded with the scorching orange glow, letting us see the interiors fully. The heat seared the back of my neck as I paused for a moment on a mound of debris, scanning the eerie city street for any signs of movement. The Mendeni seemed to have a strong aversion to light, so they were rarely seen during the day. The afternoon was the part of the day were your chances of being caught and killed were slimmest.  

Unfortunately for us, we had to leave the camp at dawn, a time when the Mendeni still stirred in the fallen city, so everyone in our search party was on edge, jumping at the slightest sound or stirring. 

A sharp movement flashed behind the broken window of a old store, and my head snapped that way. I could've sworn that I saw what looked like a long, barbed silver tail whisk out of sight, and I walked forward to take a closer look.

"Amara!" It wasn't a loud cry, but it sounding deafening in the unnatural silence that rested heavily around me. I whirled around to find that everyone had already rounded the street corner up ahead, but Cole had hung back, making sure that I was following. 

I turned away from the broken storefront and jogged lightly over to where he stood, trying to muffle my footsteps in the dusty road. He gives me a worried look but I ignore it and continue running after the scouts, heartbeat pounding in my ears. If I had really seen a Mendeni, that meant that we were being followed and I couldn't risk alerting Cole to its presence. 

The question was, why not attack me and Cole while we were separated from the larger group? Fear bubbled up inside of me despite my best efforts to keep it buried. A image of my mother's corpse flashed through my mind and I quickened my pace, Cole right behind me. 

When we rounded the street corner, we entered the ruins of what used to be an upscale neighborhood. The scouts were about 15 meters in front of us, and they had stopped in front of an enormous mansion. 

The left side looked as though it had been blown up by a large bomb, charred scraps of the building littering the ground. Flaming light filtered through the broken door and windows, casting an intense fiery glow on the debris that was scattered on the ratty front lawn and street in front of the house. It didn't look much different then the rest of the rundown mansions in the neighborhood, but a strong sense of sorrow radiated from it, as if warning us to stay far, far away.

The scouts weren't moving, but standing in a circle staring soundlessly at something laying on the ground in front of them. I felt Cole moving behind me, whispering to me, but I couldn't hear him. I stumbled forward blindly, and all of the horrible memories of my mother's death flashed vividly before my eyes. I reached the circle of scouts and shoved two of them aside. 

The odor hits me before I actually see what is in front it me. It reeks of something rotten and vile, and a headache starts forming behind my eyes. But the worst part is, I recognize that scent. I smelled it the day that I found my mother dead on the street. 

Dread grips me tightly as I lower my gaze to the lump on the ground. It takes my mind a moment to take in the scene before me, and when it does my knees give away and I clutch onto Cole's arm for support, bile rising in my throat.

A violently butchered corpse is lying at my feet, dark and dried blood crusting the cracked and shredded skin that had been torn apart from the body. The eyes have been ripped from their sockets, leaving behind empty, gaping holes. Half of the skin on the face has been ripped away to reveal a scratched skull underneath, as if the monster that killed this person sharpened its claws on their head. A gigantic gash in the cheek catches my eye, and the gleam of white teeth shines starkly through all of the swollen and peeled tissue. 

The stomach is torn, the guts spilled all over the ground, leaving a trail to the destroyed house. It looks as if this person was viciously attacked inside the house, dragged forcefully out as they were dying, and then left to die in front of the house like some sort of sick warning. 

The body is ripped wide open and its impossible to tell who lies beneath all of the sticky blood and strips of mangled flesh flapping slightly in the wind. But something tells me that its as I feared.

It's Sierra.

Bile and nausea rise fast in my throat and I lean over and vomit forcefully onto the powdery ground. Tears begin to form in my eyes as the raw despair and grief threaten to consume me. I wipe my mouth with a shaking hand as a few thick, hot tears roll silently down my cheeks. 

Disgust and horror choke me, but I push them down. I force myself to stand up and gaze down at Sierra's twisted body, force myself to look, but not feel. I can't let myself care, because I know that it will all just be taken away in the end, no matter how hard I try. 

I silently touch my fingers to my lips, then my forehead, then my heart and then press my hand firmly to the bloody ground in a tightly closed fist. Cole and the other scouts wordlessly mirror me, kneeling next to me. 

A tribute to the fallen. 

One by one, the scouts stand up and step away from the body, averting their eyes in the process. Cole remains next to me on the ground, and I can tell that the same memories of our dead mother are whirling around his mind. 

I stand up first, not taking my eyes off of Sierra's shell. I pull gently on Cole's upper arm and he slowly rises, eyes glazed and unfocused. I'm about to lead him away from the body when a harsh scream rings through silent city.

I don't jump but instead whirl around looking for the source of the sound, drawing both of my pistols and flipping the safety off at the same time. I curse myself for forgetting that we were being followed by a monster. I had let my grief get the better of me and now we were going to pay with our lives. 

The other scouts and Cole had jumped at the scream but they quickly regained their wits and we all huddled together in a circle, guns and knives pointed outward. I was sandwiched between Cole and a scout who I did not know, but I could feel her shaking violently. 

The scream had stopped but echoes of it continued to rebound off of the surrounding buildings, overlapping to create a haunted chorus that chilled me to my bones. My mind clambering to come up with a plan, but I knew that ultimately there was no defense against the Mendeni other than running blindly for your life. Not a single person had killed a Mendeni in the 20+ years since the world fell to the monsters. It simply wasn't possible, at least not that we knew of. We were as good as dead already.

The scream hadn't yet died away when something appeared at the end of the broken street in front of me. At first it was hidden by the shadows the structures on either side of the road cast. The thing took a few slow steps forward and came into the light. Time seemed to stop as we all stared, frozen with terror. 

It stood at least twice as tall as a normal man and was built alike with two legs and arms and a human-like skull, but the similarities ended there. 

It had a long, slim tail, and its whole body is lined with deadly barbs that shone with a lethal beauty in the burnt sunlight. It's skin looked extremely stretched and was torn in places, revealing scarlet muscles glistening with blood-coated bone beneath. It's two legs where bent outward at the knee, in a way that reminded me of a scorpion or spider. 

It's spine formed a stark ridge along its back, looking eerily similar to a human spine. Sprouting out of its back was what looked to be a bony stinger, its end sparkling with dripping poison. 

It's mouth was open wide and had no teeth, but instead had four long, skinny and crimson-colored feelers that looked sharp and eager for blood. 

It's eyes were a flaming dark maroon filled with malice and a deep, intense hunger.

Raw terror mixed with horror and a healthy dose of panic shoots through me like lightning, and adrenaline induced-fear fills my entire being.

Holy shit.

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AN - hello my awesome readers! sorry that it took so freaking looooooooooooong to update 😬 ideas have been kinda scarce of late, but I will try to update sooner next time!!

I thought a pic of what the Mendeni looks like would be helpful in case my descriptions suck 😂 

I just found the image on google :) 

-Aspen♡

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