Chapter 75: Blood
Twisting and turning and whipping around all over the place. Erela felt like she was being pushed and pulled like a rag doll between two children fighting over her. For a moment, she thought she saw a home, but everything disappeared again before she was thrown off into the ground full of leaves and mud. Erela whipped her head around, finding Gregory running away, his arm tattered and wet with blood.
Erela raised her wand as she stumbled onto her feet, slipping on mud, mumbling an incantation under her breath before whipping it down to her side and went after him. She saw him look back at her with fear and anger mixed into his eyes, realizing Erela had conjured the Anti-Disapparition Jinx around the area. He couldn't leave anymore . . .
Her wand clasped tightly in her hand and nicked him with the Sectumsempra curse. She had to stop him, had to catch him! Gregory whipped around and shot at her, green light coming right at her. Erela's eyes widened at the sight of it before she fell backwards and knocked the wind from her lungs on impact. No resting! She couldn't rest!
She pushed herself off the ground again and ran after him, he gained more distance between her, hoping to outrun her. Erela kept pushing herself, memories of the chase flooding back into her mind. Stacee and Landon running away from the cultists with Erela just barely behind them, counter-cursing them and fearing for their lives. It was Erela's turn to chase after the last one of them . . .
With a raise of her wand, water began to levitate from the ground, moisture from the mud leaving the earth and snaked around the trees toward Gregory. When he came into view, she swirled a motion with her wand, the water doing exactly that and trapped the man in a bubble of water. She willed the waterball toward her, keeping her hard eyes on it as it came closer to her. By the time he was close enough, she noticed an air bubble around his head, his lips moving as he said something she couldn't quite hear.
She felt a struggle against the water, something that she knew the man was fighting. Her eyes narrowed as it froze over and broke into shards, launching toward her. Erela swung her arm around her, a wall coming up immediately and evaporated into mist.
Erela ran her hands away from each other, like she was smoothing her hands over something, the tip of her wand pointed to the ground and flicked it up, feeling the earth and the roots rise from the ground and wrap around the man like binds.
But he thought ahead of her.
He huffed air past his lips and fire burned the roots to a black crisp. Chains flung at the man, melting past his defenses before it could even touch his skin. His wand pointed at her, white slashes flew at her, breaking through her skin. Making her bleed. Forcing pain on her.
Blood ran down everywhere. Her face, her arms, her torso, her legs. The white slashes cut through everything and opening up her flesh like she was made of paper. She was losing a lot of blood and fast. And the thought finally occurred to her. She saw this image in her dream. Erela was suppose to bleed that way . . . she was suppose to find a corpse before her . . .
She had to kill him . . .
Azkaban wasn't an option. It was never an option in her future . . .
The only way to beat him was to take his life . . .
He had to go . . .
He killed Stacee . . .
So he deserved to be punished . . .
Erela glared down at him, the walls breaking down around her mind, and the screeching released. Gregory screamed out in pain, his knees buckled down and fell on all fours before his hands cupped over her ears. To make the screeching go away. She kept willing it on him, willing him to fall. Wishing for him to die . . .
So much noise in her head. The screeching sounded louder than usual. Like it would break through her skull and destroy her mind if she didn't pull it back. Her eyes stayed on the man as he writhed in pain, his brain splitting in two, his entire being torn to pieces nerve by nerve.
Erela tightly shut her eyes, the screeching growing stronger the longer she kept it out in the open. It felt too strong. Deadlier than she imagined. The fear of what others saw in her made itself known, crashing and banging against the walls of her mind, fully understanding what it was they understood about her. It wasn't just the power she had that made them afraid. It wasn't the fear of hurting them.
It was the fear that she could kill people if she willed it . . .
Her eyes flew open when the screeching stopped. She didn't even stop it herself. It just ceased . . .
She looked toward Gregory, limp, unmoving, just as she had wished . . .
Erela blinked at the sight of him and ran her hand through her hair, her palm soaked in her own blood. Oh . . . right . . . she was bleeding . . . there were cuts all over her from the curse and she had completely forgotten about the pain . . .
Erela was swaying back and forth, losing her balance as she lost more blood. Her vision was blurring, still on the body in front of her. His form began to change to his true self. They would find him. Soon. They'd identify him, at last. But they would suspect her . . . Everyone saw her chase after him. They'd figure out she killed him . . .
She'd be a wanted fugitive . . .
She let out a sigh, closed her eyes, and the ground disappeared underneath her. She heard the wind in her ears and a loud snap broke through the silence when the ground reappeared under her feet.
"Erela, what the fu—oh my god, Ela!" his voice broke with worry when he saw her, tattered and bloody.
Her eyes fell onto the man. Onto Landon getting up from the couch when her vision blurred some more, then blacked out as Erela collapsed. Her blood running at a dangerous speed and running onto the carpet.