Becoming a Monster

Chapter 389: Chapter 389: Fate’s Verdict

The firelight flickered across uneasy faces. The low crackle of wood was the only sound for several long breaths.

No one wanted to admit it, but the thought was already planted. They survived the night, but they still could recall the buildings that appeared next to them. How many of them survived when even they barely made it out alive?

The monster saved them from an excruciating fate. But what about tomorrow? In the morning, they would have to venture back out into the forest hoping that they chose the right direction, hoping that the monsters they escaped from wouldn’t be waiting after they left the devil’s territory. And they would have to worry that they don’t come across a creature even worse than the devil that sheltered them.

Some clutched their bowls tighter, eyes darting toward the lighted silhouette of the devil’s dwelling as though they might be able to glimpse at the light and the chest that Yossef swore he saw. Others sat frozen, too afraid to speak, too afraid to agree.

Amara’s hands curled under her robes, knuckles were drained of all their color. She could clearly fear the shift spreading through the people she had bled to protect, the same people who had followed her nearly unquestionably until now.

Amara did not move at first. Not because she didn’t care, because she did, with every ounce of herself. It was because she now understood, with a cold, and awful clarity, why Yossef no longer had a thread. He was destined to lose his life, but now that she understood, there was still nothing she could do to prevent it. She had experienced it too many times, she once believed she could save those whose threads were no longer connected to fate, and she failed to save them, every single one.

This would be no different.

But then her eyes flickered, her face paled. Her chest tightened when she noticed something else. The threads around her nearly all changed at the same time. A crimson black.

The others were going to die, and it was going to be painful.

"No!"

Suddenly she rose to her feet. Her voice cracked, her anxiousness proved to be unbearable. Dozens of eyes snapped toward her.

They didn’t just see her, they saw where she was looking, off in the distance, toward the shadowed area where the monster slept. She turned back to them, her face pale, and her chest heaving.

"None of you truly understands what’s at stake if you go through with this. What you’re even discussing..." Her words trembled, but her tone suddenly shifted, a change that made the others begin to dread what was about to be said next. " it’s suicide."

She didn’t look at Yossef, not once, she couldn’t. She couldn’t help him, but there was hope for everyone else.

"Even now I see it... If you could see what I see, if you still have even a shred of faith in my power, then listen to me, trust me. You’ll only suffer needlessly if you continue down this path."

The camp went silent. People who’d been whispering moments before now stared at her with wide, trembling eyes. Their gaze fearfully peeking toward the same area that Amara once had now as the weight of her words unclouded their minds, which had been clouded by fear and self-preservation.

"Please," she whispered, softer now but no less sharp. "Don’t let him lead you into graves. Not when I can see them waiting for you."

Boom!

The first person fell to their knees. A man dropped forward, his palms digging into the ground as if it could anchor him. His face twisted, tears spilling down his cheeks, his back heaving with every ragged breath as he tried to hold back his cries without success.

"What should we do?" he cried out, his voice breaking under the weight of the question. His fist came down hard against the ground.

Thud.

Again, dirt clung to his knuckles; the second time left his skin split, smearing blood that mixed with the soil.

"I don’t want to die!" he shouted, eyes wide and blurred with tears, teeth clenched hard enough to shake his jaw. "Every day we’re just waiting for someone else to die. When will it end? How many more of us will die before this ends?"

His words didn’t stop there. His voice cracked, turning into something closer to a confession. "I lost my boy," he rasped, his forehead pressing against the dirt now. "He was just a child. I promised him, I promised him I’d live. I’d keep breathing, even if it killed me inside. So that he could be remembered."

He slammed his fist again, his blood running down his hand. "But now... he’s not a memory that keeps me alive. He’s a memory of what’s about to happen to all of us. I can’t keep that promise anymore. I know I can’t."

He lifted his head just enough for everyone to see his twisted face, almost deranged. "I don’t know what to do anymore! ... I just " his hands clawed at the earth. "I just want to do something! Anything! No matter how stupid it is, no matter how dangerous, I don’t want to keep waiting to die!"

His eyes burned, but not with tears now but with desperation. "I don’t want to meet my son and tell him that I failed without even trying!"

The words fell heavier than Amara’s own. No one moved, no one spoke. But soon, others followed the man’s display, falling to their knees. Others bundled closer to those they knew, looking to one another for reassurance for the future.

Amara stayed silent. Her lips parted once, but no words came. She was stuck... not just for words, but for words of strength and motivation. She knew, deep down, she wasn’t fit to be a leader. She wasn’t good at inspiring others. Her abilities were strong, but she wasn’t a fighter. Her decisions kept "most" of them alive, but the decisions weren’t her own. Everything she had, everything she’d accomplished, she believed it was all due to Anubis’ blessing, not her own merit.

Seeing everyone, just moments ago relishing a night with warm food, suddenly turned into... this, she felt her heart sink. Her hands trembled as she clutched her robes even tighter. She began to doubt if she should even stop them, maybe it was better to let them make their own decision, even if it was self-sacrificial.

But before she could even decide, her words were cut short.

Yossef’s voice, one heavy with spite, drew everyone’s attention.

"Destiny..." he began, for once his voice wasn’t mocking. It almost sounded hollow. "I used to believe in it. I wanted to. I wanted to think there was some plan, some "God" guiding us to something better." His jaw clenched, his eyes glazed as though he was revisiting a bad memory. "But reality wakes you up. Destiny isn’t real. Not unless you carve it yourself."

He turned his glare across the circle. ""And you all keep talking about trusting that creature, as if it was our salvation, as if it was our fate. Are you blind? You all think it’s protecting us out of kindness? No. It’s protecting us because it got something in return. Don’t you see? It’s just a deal. And when that deal is over..." His hand forcefully cut through the air, his body visibly trembling. "...then what? When it doesn’t need us anymore? When it doesn’t have a reason to keep us alive?"

His voice grew harsher, desperate. "Then we’re nothing. Just meat. Just waste. And you want to sit here and act like trusting a monster will save us? You’re fools! When you die, trusting a monster over yourselves, would you still call that destiny?"

His chest continued to rise and fall, his shoulders did the same. He felt all eyes on him, he saw their fear, but more importantly, he began to see their hope.

Instinctively, he took out his weapon. A short, black dagger that looks simple at first, but as he drew the dagger, his presence became less visible even though all eyes were originally on him. His appearance didn’t change at all, but his presence became smaller.

Then he flinched.

So did a few others, the more vigilant, the ones who had learned to recognize the subtle shift of the world right before death arrived. Amara was no different. Her eyes widened. She felt it; a powerful and suffocating sense of danger. It was a feeling she’d learned well over the past weeks. It was the instinct of a being about to kill.

It was sudden, and just as sudden, the ground erupted.

Spikes shot upward, puncturing Yossef before he could even gasp. His words choked off mid-sentence, his body jerking once, twice, then falling limp as the spikes didn’t withdraw but instead held him suspended slightly off the ground. Blood spattered into the fire, sizzling in the flames. It splattered across the faces and into the food of those nearby.

There was a short silence, a silence that was built on the minds of those registering what happened. And then the screams followed.

A select few quickly drew their weapons, others began to prepare spells, while two others summoned creatures that were higher than beginner creatures.

But Amara wasn’t one of them. She wasn’t aware of the attacker’s identity. She didn’t need to be. Seeing that Yossef alone had been targeted, she didn’t need to wonder long about who was behind it.