Apocalyptic Organ Grinder Read Online Free Page B

Lila now ran.  A gully that once a year swelled into a river and quenched the thirst of seedlings struggling to take root.
    This was a sacred space, one of those areas that perfectly illustrated what it meant to be alive and in the world.  Its power wrapped around Lila like a protective cloak and she felt a shiver course through her soul as she ran.  Whether she lived or died was of no consequence:  the wind was cool against her face and hair, the ground was firm beneath her feet, and no one would ever inhabit this particular place in time again.
    Rounding a bend, Lila leapt over a carpet of dried leaves that had no place being that far into the ravine.  She hit the ground with her shoulder, clearing the debris entirely.  Smoothly rolling so that she now looked back the way she’d come, Lila sprang to her feet again and raised her spear.
    Breathing heavily, she watched for the man to come.  The time to run was over.  Besides, there was nowhere left to go;  on all sides were nothing but sheer walls of rock, so treacherous and steep that even a mountain goat would struggle for purchase.
    Ignoring the massive boulders surrounding her, Lila listened to his feet scuttle through gravel and the sharp gasps which accompanied each step.
    He was close now.
    “I am a hunter in the tribe of Clay,” she whispered,  “daughter of The People and chosen wife of Tolek.  Today I face my ancestors.  May they always walk with me.”
    So very close.

 
    IV.
     
    Gather at the feet of the Elders, brothers and sisters, and listen to a tale from the time of our ancestors.  May they always walk with us …
     
    It is said that before the Days of Tears, clear skins and The People alike were scattered like grain before the breeze.  In these times, the cities of the Old World still strove to touch the sun but their stone pathways were layered with the bodies of the dead.  Man hid in the shadows like frightened animals and offered up tearful prayers to the Old God, who seemed to have abandoned them at their time of greatest need.  Without the blessings of their deity, they traveled through their defiled home like those who walk while still dreaming.  The dark spirits who lurk outside the veil saw this and cast out a net which entangled their minds with fear and confusion and many were the ones who took their own lives in despair.
    Not content with this, the dark spirits infested the decaying flesh of the fallen, seeping into the meat and causing vile liquids to leak from the mouths, noses, sphincters, and pores.  As more and more spirits crowded into the empty husks of the dead, the stench of evil rose like an invisible cloud.  It has been told that so great was the presence of the dark ones, their forms could be glimpsed, wavering in the air over the bodies like heat above a fire.
    As creatures who walk between the worlds, this same stink also called Rat and Fly to the unhappy dead, who lacked even the earth to be buried within a mound.
    “Man goes hungry,” said Rat, “but why should we?  Is this not our home as well?”
    “I agree.” Replied greedy Fly.  “Let their stomachs know the pangs of hunger while ours are filled.  They smashed my kind with implements of death and lured us into strips that were like sticky sap from which we could not escape.”
    Rat nodded in eager agreement, crying out, “They crushed the skulls of my brothers and sisters with cruel traps and tainted our food with poison!”
    “We owe them nothing.” Said Fly.
    And so it came to pass that they gorged themselves upon the deceased.  What the gluttonous pair did not realize, however, was that the evil contained within the bodies longed to feed upon the living, just as Rat and Fly did the dead.  Carried on Fly’s wings and Rat’s whiskers, the evil took seed in the open wounds of man.  Their injuries soon smelled of the grave and roots spread out from the afflictions.  Intent on strangling the heart, red tendrils crept just below the