Ander - Part 6: Subchapter 174
174
There was something wrong, but Banno couldn't understand what it was. There was something different. He hated this!
He had to resort to leaning against the wall just to keep from falling down. It was like that damn crutch all over again. And then there was this loop of meat, red and dripping, hanging from the hole that Fox bastard had put in his stomach. He knew what this loop was. He had seen the same thing in deer. This was guts, his guts, spilling out of him.
That wasn't what bothered him the most, though. No... a loose coil of intestine was nothing.
He grabbed the loop (it was slippery between his fingers, like a river eel) and stuffed it back inside the hole. It stayed put for a few seconds, then slithered back out the moment he took a breath.
"Damn you, stay there!"
He stuffed it back inside, pushing the coils in with his fingers (the job would have been easier if his arm wasn't broken), and then covered his wound with his hand, keeping his insides inside, where they belonged.
All right, one problem taken care of. But that still didn't do anything about this feeling of wrongness. He didn't like it when things changed too much, especially not when it concerned his own body, something he should have a complete understanding of.
It was difficult to breathe, but not because of what James had tried to do to him. A little burning he could handle. He could just suck the air in through the burn. But this... it felt as if his lungs just didn't have the same power as they used to. He was telling them to work, but they only moved halfway. And then there was the rest of his body. Every time he tried to move it, no matter what part, no matter how hard, it just wouldn't cooperate. He'd tell his arm to move, and it would only twitch. He'd tell his leg to take a step, and it would only drag along the floor. He didn't like that. It was like his own body parts were no longer a part of him, even though they were still attached. It was what he imagined his missing foot and eye would feel like if he ever found them again, just loose, rotting pieces of meat that were no longer real, no longer a part of him, taken by the nothingness that permeated this empty world.
But his legs, his arms, his lungs, even his head... they were still attached. They shouldn't be feeling like this.
What is wrong with me?
Banno didn't understand. This wasn't the same as being tired. He's been tired countless times before. It was just a feeling. If he was tired, he just made his body move regardless. Sometimes the fatigue changed into pain when he did that, but that was no problem either, because pain wasn't a problem. It was just a different flavour of feeling, no different from any other.
Banno pushed himself off the wall, took one step, and a torrent of blood erupted from his mouth, splattering all over the floor. Red strings of vomit dangled from his lips and nose, slowly stretching out and dripping into the spreading puddle.
Was this the reason? All this blood he was losing? It had happened once before, but this wasn't the same, either. That was something he had understood even while it was happening; intense light-headedness, dizziness, and eventually a disorienting awakening, like a great whack of time had been cut out of his memory. But this wasn't anything like that! Why did he feel this way now!? Why couldn't he move even though he wanted to? Why was his eye blurring over? Why did his lungs burn? Why was the world bending and warping like this?
Banno tried to take another step, but his useless leg just dragged behind him. It felt numb, like he had been sitting on it for hours. And come to think of it, that was what the rest of his body felt like, too. There was a numb kind of tingle going through his muscles, and he hated that feeling! It was like a part of him wasn't there! Like it was empty! It was really bad in his extremities, but the spots that felt the weirdest, the most annoying, the most infuriating, like they were just empty shells, were his ear, his forearm, his hand, and his stomach, all the spots that -
Banno's eye widened with sudden understanding, but at the same time he refused to believe it. There was simply no way it could be true. The world wouldn't allow it. _He_wouldn't allow it.
But he had to make sure. Not because he thought there was any real threat, he just had to confirm it.
Nilia and the Fox were being awfully chummy, lying in each other's arms even while they bled to death, whispering to each other in the dark.
"You..." Even Banno's lips felt numb, and the word came out in one barely comprehensible slush of breath and bloody vomit. He started towards them and the strangest thing happened. For a moment his leg wouldn't move at all and he crashed down to his knees. He planted his good hand on the floor to keep from pitching forward and his damnable guts uncoiled yet again, slipping free of his flesh with alarming ease to dangle just a finger's length above the ground.
Banno scooped it up and stuffed it back in, taking care not to puncture the tube with his claws, since that would only make this mess even worse. When he raised his head he saw the Fox looking at him through a mask of blood, watching every little stumble, every little delay, every little annoyance...
And was he smiling?
A growl emanated from deep inside Banno's throat, making the blood bubble out from between his teeth. "Is there something amusing, Fox?"
The Fox licked his bloody lips, and now there was no mistaking it. The little bastard was smiling. "You know, you nearly had me going there for a minute..." he croaked. "Your whole 'god speech', about being immortal, about never dying, all your delusions... but the truth is... you're just full of hot air. You're nothing special. You're just crazy."
"I don't want to hear that from a Fox who dares to smile even as his own death draws ever closer."
"Heh. Ironic you should say that." The Fox's smile grew just a bit wider, an ugly line of mirth cutting through the bloody ruins of his face, and Banno felt the anger start to build up inside his heart yet again, a pile of coals glowing hotter and hotter, ready to burst into flame at any moment. As well as something else... that numb tingle in his hand, in his arm, in his ear, and in his gut...
That empty feeling.
"What did you do to me?" Banno asked, taking another laborious step closer. It felt like he was walking through mud up to his waist.
The Fox squeezed Nilia's hand and her eyes opened halfway, regarding him with a look Banno couldn't quite understand past the top layer of exhaustion.
"Agatha is a simple girl," the Fox said. "She wasn't made for wars or grand battles. She was made for hunting. Deer and elk, fast game that can travel long distances in a short amount of time... That's why..." That hideous smile appeared on his face yet again, wider than ever before. "You said that you can never die, that an arrow might hit you, but it could never take your life. Well, Banno, black demon, what if..." the Fox raised his head and looked him square in the eye. "... what if those arrows were poisoned?"
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