Skin of the Sinless (Part 2)
Chapter 2: One Hound’s Meal is Another Man’s Treasure
He scanned the chamber for another door, but fell short. All while the holes in his chest and stomach began to glow with the healing white light. Requiem rested his claymore against his shoulder, then made his way to the door he had entered through seeing that it was the only way out of the chamber. The white light turned into his entrails, then muscles and finally his scarred skin until he was whole again.
Pride’s blades pushed out from his back and side to the floor. Requiem pushed open the door to see another void. Without hesitation, he stepped through into a decrepit hallway with the door disappearing behind him like he did when he entered the tower. He followed the poorly lit path to a spiral staircase that descended into complete darkness.
Screams echoed from all around as he made his way down. Footsteps were heard coming from below, but he continued pushing on without a fret. Requiem finally saw the woman making her way up the stairs with a fear-stricken face. He prepared to end her suffering, but his work was not needed. She screamed in terror at the sight of him before throwing herself off the staircase back down into the pit.
Requiem watched the woman disappear into the darkness until he heard her body smack against the unseen ground below. The echo gave him an idea of how much further he was to go down. He saw that the woman was no longer there after reaching the bottom. Requiem looked around to see where she had gone to notice a blood trail leading into a corridor from where she had landed, leaving her brain matter behind.
He followed the blood trail to see the woman from before being torn apart by houndish shadows. Two had a hold of each of her hands while the third pulled at one of her feet. The cloudy beasts had long shaggy hair that flickered in the air, dissipating at the tips into smoke. A growl was heard behind Requiem that grew louder the closer it got.
Requiem let the blade of the claymore fall from his shoulder. He followed the falling momentum of his claymore turning around to swing it upward. His claymore passed clean through the hound that was stalking him turning it into a puff of black smoke. Requiem looked at his claymore, then turned to face the other three that were feasting on the woman from before.
The hounds were now bearing their grotesque fangs that pierced through their evaporating snouts in his direction. A howl came from deep in the labyrinth, and the three closed in on their prey. One took the front while the other two circled around Requiem in the narrow passageway. The one in front lunged at him first. He plunged his blade into its mouth making it disappear into smoke.
The hound that circled to the left grabbed a hold of his arm mid thrust with its maw, pulling him off balance. It shook its head violently shedding the skin and muscle on his forearm while the hound that circled right went for his throat. Requiem lowered himself, then shoved his iron mask into the hound’s mouth on the right to keep it from closing. He slammed its head into the wall with his own. The hound’s jaw snapped from the impact before turning into a puff of smoke as well.
Requiem could hear nails scraping against the stone floor getting closer and closer from further within the labyrinth. He realized the hound ripping apart his forearm was just buying time. He yanked his forearm to bring the hound in front of him before bringing the pummel of his claymore down on the hound’s face making it no more. Requiem picked up his pace in the direction of the hounds with his claymore resting on his shoulder.
His left arm began to glow, then shortly after mended itself while he walked the path that came to a fork with the sound hounds coming from both directions. Requiem stood fast with both hands gripping the claymore in front of him. Hounds came flooding in from both sides engulfing Requiem in a sea of black. Requiem swung wide, clearing out the first wave, then was ultimately overwhelmed by the rest.
He fruitlessly fought the beasts off with no end in sight. The hounds ripped him apart piece by piece without remorse. Requiem noticed that not all of the hounds were not feasting. Most of the chunks they were taking from him were passing through their stomachs onto the floor. Others who ripped off a piece of his body would turn to run in the opposite direction. Requiem rested his body, closed his eyes and let them rip him to pieces.
One of the hounds ripped his head from the rest of his body before running off into the darkness, holding it by the meat of his neck. Requiem opened his eyes to see pieces of himself being carried by shadows through the labyrinth. His right foot. The whole right arm, still gripping his claymore. Even his crotch was traveling next to him all in the same direction.
It reminded him of the first time he had lost his body. The first time he had rested for many years until his body reanimated itself for the first time. The dream of no more suffering was no more than a dream itself when he was whole once more.
The hound carrying Requiem’s head dissipated into smoke after passing through an archway. His head rolled into a chamber until it came to a stop on its side. His eyes darted around looking for the hound’s creator, but they were nowhere in sight. He realized was in the garden again. “Oh, his poor soul was taken by the hounds,” mourned the little girl on the swing.
Requiem’s neck began to glow before a white silhouette took the shape of his body. His body reanimated itself once again starting at his neck. His bones formed first, next came his organs as his muscles grew over them holding them in place and lastly his scarred covered skin.
Requiem rose to his feet with the rosary pushing its way out of his right forearm, drizzling the grass below in his blood. He looked at his right hand to see his claymore forge itself from light with the rosary wrapped around its guard. Forever bound to his soul. Requiem looked back to see piles of human limbs scattered round the entrance of the chamber. His remains still laid amongst the rest except for the claymore and rosary that followed his soul.
A hound was heading in the direction of the chamber in a full sprint with a limb in its maw. Requiem braced himself for the attack, but the little girl spoke. “I advise that you do not engage. You will be breaking one of our rules,” foretold the little girl as she swung on her swing.
Requiem lowered his claymore, heeding her warning. He let the hound enter the chamber as it turned into a puff of black smoke after passing through the archway. The limb that it carried tumbled on the grass before coming to a halt at Requiem’s feet. He picked it up to examine it. It was an arm with a precious bracelet around its wrist.
The little girl spoke once again. “The man in the next chamber likes to acquire things, but does not like company or leaving his domain. He lets his hounds bring him pieces of those seeking the top of the tower, and takes whatever items they may possess without being seen.”
Requiem turned to look for the door to the next chamber that was nowhere in sight. The little girl swinging by the pond came into view as well as new children playing in the garden like before. Requiem made his way to the wall across the chamber with his claymore resting against his shoulder, placing his free hand against it.
“I cannot tell you how the items make their way into his chamber. Over time the limbs are absorbed into my garden, and the items he doesn’t take simply disappear with them. Reminds me of when my brother had first entered the tower.” Informed the little girl watching the scar covered man wander in her chamber. Requiem continued to make his way around the perimeter of the wall looking for an entrance.
She continued with her story as if Requiem was listening. “He protected me like he promised, and I catered to his every need as the labyrinth became our home. The chambers are what made us stronger. They helped grow our bond even though those who had grown from the Sins themselves still didn’t understand. All except for one. It understood, it felt what we felt, and it listened when no one else did…”
The little girl stopped mid-sentence after realizing Requiem was no longer there. Requiem walked into the next chamber through an illusionary door. He stood before an old man sitting on a throne in the middle of the chamber. The old man wore a red, eight pointed crown that dripped with blood. Blood that covered his long white hair hanging down the sides of his head mixing in with his long white beard.
The throne he sat on was made of pure gold, and had consumed most of his body. All that was left was his head protruding from the back of the chair, his hands that rested on the ends of the armrests and his feet dangling from the edge of the seat. The throne itself sat on a mound of jewelry and artifacts that no mortal should possess. The perimeter of the chamber was littered with piles of gold coins stacked taller than one can imagine. Each one towered through an open ceiling into the starry night sky that shouldn’t exist.
The old man spoke. “What do you have to offer besides your life?” Requiem stood across from him with his claymore resting against his shoulder without saying a word.
“You stand in the presence of Greed without tribute? I do not care how you made your way into my quarters, but you will go no further. Your soul will have to suffice.” The old man graveled in frustration. With a snap of Greed’s fingers, the piles of coins started dwindling down. Gold, humanoid beings sluggishly pulled themselves from the bottom of the piles of coins.
Requiem lowered his claymore, and broke into a sprint towards Greed. Greed smiled, tapping the armrest of his throne twice with his right middle finger. A comic swirl spiraled into existence where his chest would be. The air pulsed, flaying Requiem’s skin from his body making it hang from the back of his mask like a cape. It was not enough to stop his inexorable drive.
The gold, featureless monstrosities grabbed hold of the skin flailing behind him. What little remained intact was ripped off, but he did not falter. Two more stood before him to block his path to Greed. The skinless holy man swung his claymore at the left minion at an upward angle. His claymore cut it clean from its waist to its shoulder before bringing it back down, splitting the right one in half down the middle.
“You are undeserving of such power!” Cried Greed in frustration. His feet stretched into points before burrowing into the heap of artifacts below him. Two spikes burst from the floor behind Requiem shortly after. Both spikes impaled Requiem through the back of his shoulders, raising him in the air.
Greed’s eyes went black, and the stars rained down from the darkness above. They shot through Requiem like small balls of fire leaving his body riddled with scorched holes that smoldered all over. Yet, Requiem would not die. Greed commanded his golden minions to climb the spires Requiem was impaled on. Each one liquified themself on Requiem, turning him into a gold statue. Greed brought Requiem closer by using the spikes he hung on to examine the new relics he was about to acquire.
The iron mask was hideous compared to his crown. He instructed one of his minions to break off Requiem’s head, and toss it to the side. The rosary is what caught Greed’s attention. “This must be where his power lies,” marveled Greed. He had a minion break off Requiem’s arm wielding his claymore to place it on his throne to examine.
Greed tapped his right index finger on his throne making his minions and the gold covering Requiem melt away back into the piles of coins from which they came. He then retracted his feet, letting what was left of Requiem’s skinless body drop to the ground. “I can never get that spell right. Always a piece still hanging on,” confessed Greed.
He admired Requiem’s skinless arm that was still gripping his claymore. Requiem’s limb levitated in front of Greed to get a better look, but his face grew sour. He watched the rosary and claymore turn black until they crumbled into dust on his throne.
“What is this black mag…” Cried Greed before his head fell onto the seat of the throne where his lap would be. Requiem walked to the front of Greed’s throne, and crouched down making himself eye level with Greed’s dismembered head. Requiem noticed a twitch of Greed’s finger. He immediately rose to his feet while swinging his claymore in an upward motion, bisecting Greed and his throne up the middle without hesitation.
The throne fell to both sides along with Greed’s head. The red crown that sat upon Greed’s head turned into blood before drizzling down into the pile of artifacts below them. Shortly after a massive red vine shot into the darkness above where the stars were no more. Requiem placed his free hand on the massive red vine and watched the word ‘GREED’ illuminate on his arm. The scars in the Sin’s name disappeared showing remnants of unscarred skin underneath as a tear fell from under his iron mask.