home

search

Chapter 4

  Rupert was dragged across a hall. This hall never ended. It was dark, ever so dark, with a light at the end that never grew closer. He was dragged by two witches of blue. And he was strong of will and unwavering, but something was afoot ...

  "Unhand me, witches of the waterfall. I know what you are and what god you serve. It is not my god. My god is just, and yours is just stupid."

  The witches would not speak. They merely kept on. Across the hall that went nowhere.

  He prayed long and hard. Prayed for salvation. But then the god, he has always answered his prayers, he was a good knight, and the god loved good knights. A rumble came about from afar, it was the answer to Rupert's prayers.

  The witches wondered where & what way the rumble came from, and then they turned to Sir Rupert Vronesberg, whose stomache had been upset still.

  "The lord is calling! I must answer to his calls!" Rupert cried with such will and strength that he convinced the witches to subvert him from the endless hall to another, much less endless chamber, where he found a bucket and a dirty sponge.

  He crouched over the bucket and began repeating his prayers.

  "Please have mercy on me, god. I have been ever so good and holy and I only wish to see my wife and child, to hold them in my embrace once again ..." Prayed Rupert, before starting to shit with intensity. "... And I wish to slay the weeping woman. The one true enemy to God. Please lead me to the weeping woman and I shall be done with it."

  As Sir Rupert Vronesberg began to take his shit, a devastating cry suddenly sounded from the sky, as the roof above his head was ripped off and swallowed into the pink, glowing sky.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  It was the weeping woman. She had returned.

  The blue mages were swallowed into the sky, the dungeons, the chambers, the stones and pebbles and very soon the entire earth was being devoured as it had before.

  Rupert saw the mage who had been capturing him, holding onto the chamber's door as it swung back and forth. He stared Rupert in the eyes with fear and harrow.

  "Quick. Hand me my sword, wizard!" Cried Rupert as he remained crouched. "I must slay the weeping woman!"

  The mage shook his head in confusion as he was dragged across the sky to meet with the woman.

  Rupert grabbed ahold of his bucket and tied it across the chamber's door, in order to confine himself to the dungeon and stay on the ground for plenty seconds more.

  "My sword! I need my sword!" He continued to cry for whomever could hear. "Please hand me my sword! I shall save you all from the doom!"

  The metal and rock was being ripped apart from the dungeon and tossed through the sky. The giant hole in the sky was once again devouring bushes, trees, screaming metallic carriages and sorcerers' towers and twisted houses ... Not even this world could survive the weeping woman. Perhaps it wasn't of the weeping woman, then. Perhaps we were all mistaken.

  Then he suddenly felt the cold hand, of death you would presume, but it was the old fool. Handing him his sword and smiling.

  "You are truly of the men." He cried as he flew into the hole in the sky. "But one must be of the men to save the men."

  Rupert unsheathed his sword and waved it around himself. It was a talisman. A relic. He knew it had power beyond what seemed of it. His sword was his word and his honor and his vow.

  "Hear my words. Evil. I am yours and you are mine. For as long as is needed for one to overpower the other!"

  He uncrouches. Releases a mighty shit that sounds across the universe. His eyes grow red and cold. He releases himself from his bucket to rise towards the weeping woman for their final battle or so he believes.

  "My sword is a simple one. It was no king's ... It is mine, and I am only a man of the light!"

  The entire world collapses for as long as it takes for Rupert to finally unite with the sky. The raging rumble ripples right around the sky once again, as Rupert starts to detach from the world. He shuts his eyes.

  Seven minutes and four ... five ... six, he counted, and then it was over. And then it was silent.

Recommended Popular Novels