The Chronicles of Outsider: Humble Beginnings
Page 72
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He turned the doorknob and gave the door a push. The frosted over hinges squeaked loudly but gave way easily enough. He remained stationary in the open doorway and looked in the room from one end to the other uneasily. Only his bare wooden floor and blank walls looked back at him.
He breathed out a sigh of…what was it? Relief, disappointment, he didn’t know just yet. He hesitantly entered his house and looked around. The door swung shut behind him and he turned at the sound; coming eye to eye with the portrait of him and her hung on the inside of the door.
A flood of memories washed over him and he dropped to a knee under the staggering weight of it all. His heart seemed fit to burst with the agony that pressed it and his mind spun in circles as it struggled to process the jumbled emotions and memories at once.
He gripped the silver totem around his neck and squeezed it for support. Shaking his head and gritting his teeth he pushed himself to his feet and bit back the retort of pain that rose with him.
“Bah, I’ll fight through this just like everythin’ else!” he yelled then drew and swung his axion in one fluid motion. The heavy head smashed into the door with a loud crack and a long split shot up the side of it. He struck again and again, each time spitting the bits of wood that flew in his face, and each time biting just a little deeper.
A minute later and his door was gutted. Small streams of light shone through holes left in it now and the remnants of the portrait lay scattered in pieces. He stood there observing what he had done and his chest rose and fell rapidly; hands shaking at his sides.
The wind whistled through the cracks in the door with a shrill keening that wavered up and down then rose and fell. He listened to it for a moment then recognized the tune. The silver totem in his hand bent in two as his hand clamped down on it; defaced.
Instantly his nostrils flared and his mouth stretched into a defiant roar. He bellowed on the top of his lungs and gave the door a final blow that sent the halves of it flying off the hinges. The crack of the wood resounded loudly with an eerie echo that seemed to grow in intensity until it drowned out the original blow.
Merlon’s teeth shook in his mouth and his eyes winced with each sound. His windows shattered and sent glass raining down on him. His axion fell to the ground and he covered his ears with his palms down on his knees. He lowered his head as the cracking sound steadily expanded into a booming that vibrated his bones and rattled his skull.
The thundering blasted him directly then and his legs slid backward out from under him. He laid on his belly with his ears covered and head down, screaming as tears streamed down his face and into his beard. He wailed and sobbed silently within the maelstrom of sound as the world shook around him.
Then it all stopped suddenly.
Merlon continued weeping and shook with every breath, but he slowly looked up at the open doorway before him.
The girl in the portrait stood there waiting.