32. When stabbed in our chests

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Even after he regained his senses, Layne continued laying in place and listening, although nothing in his mind made sense. His head was still hurting and his ears were ringing. Upon trying to move, even a little, the pain intensified and he felt light-headed. He wasn't going anywhere, even if he wanted to – and he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to. He wasn't quite sure where was he or what was going on around him.

A disgusting scent reached his nostrils and he frowned. He couldn't quite put together what could that smell have been, he didn't remember sensing anything like it, ever in his life. He knew he wouldn't want to, ever again, as well.

Upon focusing, he made out the sounds of people walking around, loud crackling some silent talking, along with a few stray thuds there and then.

He just couldn't stop thinking of the damned smell.

Even after he opened his eyes, his vision remained blurry and dark circles surrounded the view. It took a while until he saw a man laying a few meters away from him. It was Adan. He was awake as well, their eyes met for a moment but they didn't acknowledge that. Adan looked up and his expression filled with pain. Layne followed his gaze and barely not gasped.

In the centre of the village was drowning in flames, even the sky had turned red as their tongues reached high up in the air. Everything was on fire. And it wouldn't take long to spread into the forest. Then, everything would be over. The whole Land would burn.

Layne stared at it until he realised he's been wrong. Everything wasn't on flames. Only an enormous fire pit in the middle of a clean area. He didn't have the time to be glad, however, as the next thing he saw was a man dragging a lifeless body of a woman. A familiar woman. Mary. He knew then what was the only possible source of that awful smell and he refused to keep looking.

Layne thought he was fading in and out but from his surroundings, much time hasn't passed. Adan was still in the same spot, now trying to stand up on his hands and knees.

"Alright, we're almost done here," a voice announced. Layne flinched as he recognised Victor. "Start searching the forest, I'll finish up the rest by myself."

After a subtle wave of muttering, footsteps started fading away and there was nothing else left but the haunting crackling of that goddamn fire and the ringing in the ears. Then, heavy steps approached and next thing he knew, black boots stopped beside Adan and kicked him down on the ground again. The man let out a long moan and looked up at his attacker. Layne didn't have to do that. He knew. He chose not to look at him.

"See, told you. You didn't stand a chance if we decided to take you down," Victor snarled. "Should have stayed on my side, I really did not want for us to turn against each other."

"Victor," Adan whispered. "We've had a deal. You were supposed to leave us be."

"Leave you be for how long, Adan? Until you and your goddamn traitors started causing more trouble than a few simple talks could solve? Until you decided to rise against us?"

"It's wrong, what you're doing. You know that. You're controlling people with fear."

"That's the point, though, isn't it? Fear works. Fear makes it so that all of the Eumain Rejects could actually live in peace without murdering each other."

"Until now. Until you turned your own people into murderers, even if they've never done a serious crime before."

"That was necessary. The only way for everyone in the Land to become one united community. What about all those people you've chased away to die alone, Adan?"

"What about the women you've murdered after they've been impregnated, raped by the men you trusted with leadership? Couldn't let anyone find out, could you?"

At that point, Layne wanted to grunt. They were making a competition out of it. They were making a competition out of who's a better person – or a better leader – or whatever it was. He remained silent, however, and kept his unfocused gaze directed right in front of him.

Victor knelt next to Adan. "You've lost, Adan. Your ideals weren't going to hold up. Your weak people weren't going to protect themselves or anyone else. All's gone for you, now."

Layne squinted his eyes when the sun reflected from the all-too-familiar blade in Victor's hand. The remains of colour left Adan's face, the man gulped.

"Victor..." His voice was wavering. "We grew up together. We were inseparable, for our whole lives. We were friends."

"Quit with the sappy bullshit." Victor pressed the knife against the man's throat. "You turned away from me, remember?"

With one swift motion, blood started pouring from Adan's neck. Layne turned his eyes away, not wanting to look at that, but the sounds didn't leave. He just couldn't escape the sounds.

Or that smell.

The sounds ended, though, and he knew Adan has passed. Victor stayed beside him but it didn't long until Layne knew his eyes fell on him.

"Would you look at that." Victor's voice turned brighter. "You're alive. Still can't die, can you?"

Victor stood and walked up to him. Layne grunted when the man grabbed him by the ponytail and pulled him up on his knees. The pain sent out another aggressive wave and he thought he'd faint – but he didn't. Not when he wanted to.

"Pretty helpless now, aren't you?" Victor chuckled. Layne was starting to feel nauseous. Even more so than before. "Don't get me wrong, I still like you. Then again, I just killed my own best friend."

Layne muttered something unintelligible and locked his eyes with Victor's. The old man kept smiling, even then. A disgusting taste entered Layne's mouth and he shuttered. His body started shivering and the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.

"In a way, you caused all of this," Victor kept talking. "You and your junior detectives' circle. Although it was inevitable, after all... They always have been hostile towards us, as cowardly and unprepared as they were."

"You fucking..." Layne started but didn't have the strength in him to continue. Victor pulled him up just a little more. Just enough to make him cry out in pain.

"Now you're just amusing. Just so you know, all of this, it only means that now, there won't be any conflict left in the Land. We'll be able to protect people, for real. As long as they want to be protected, of course."

There was no point in replying, thus, Layne only grit his teeth and turned away. He couldn't look anymore. Even so, he saw in this peripheral vision the blade of the knife shining in the sun. He couldn't help it but divert his attention to the weapon. The red flames reflected in its surface and danced as if mocking him. At least it has been cleaned from blood – although that wasn't doing much for comfort. Maybe, Layne would have preferred blood over that taunting reflection.

Victor was stalling. Of course. Layne had no doubts he was enjoying seeing his victim's face soaking in sweat. He shut his eyes, their lids trembled from the force he was putting on them.

Abrupt, explosive sounds forced him to jolt back and look around. Even Victor's grip on him loosened as the man drew his attention to the direction of the fire. Still wouldn't let go.

The sounds repeated a few more times and Layne realised what those were.

Firecrackers.

Victor dropped him down with force, causing him to groan. "You wait here," he said. "I want to show you whoever's playing these games... It's not like you'll manage to run off now, will you?"

Layne didn't reply. Victor marched off and Layne heard him start running after a while. For a brief moment, he felt relief flood over him. With the man gone, he had a chance. Unfortunately, all of his hopes shattered as soon as he tried to get up on his feet and fell face-down again.

He was too weak, too pained. He didn't even fully comprehend everything happening around him. Whenever he tried to move, he only got closer to passing out again.

He'd never make it out. He'd never managed to get far away for Victor not to find him – and even if he did...

He didn't even note the loud, heavy footsteps of two people running towards him until they stopped right beside him.

"Layne?" a voice called. He put all of himself into recognising Coden. "Come on, can you walk?"

He wanted to laugh. Could he walk... He could barely crawl.

"He looks terrible," noted Coden's companion. Iker, as it turned out. "Help me out."

They raised him up by his armpits and that was enough to make everything around him blurry and dark again. Coden and Iker had to pretty much carry him into the forest, but all considered, he felt fine.


Thanks for reading! Unfortunately, I will be taking a break now. There are only four chapters left and I'm far from happy with how they are at the moment. Being in my last months of university, I don't have much time to write and don't want the very last chapters of this story to be forced or rushed. Thank you for understanding!


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