Cross and Conflicts

CHAPTER XL: Chase and Catch

In her horror, Noumenon scrambled to get away from Cross. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw him suddenly sprint towards her, his eyes gleaming red and a terrifying smirk playing on his lips. The objects in the hallway lifted again by the same unseen force, and hurtled towards her with ferocious speed.

Whoosh! Clatter! Crash! Thud! Thud!

The sounds reverberated through the hallway, the items narrowly missing her as she ducked and weaved, her instincts driving her forward. She knew she had to escape, her heart pounding with fear.

She sprinted down the hallway, her footsteps echoing off the marble floor. Cross's relentless pursuit was punctuated by the thudding of more objects being hurled in her direction. She could hear him closing the distance behind her, the air crackling with the energy of his wrath.

The large double doors at the entrance of the mansion came into view, a beacon of hope amid the chaos. She poured every ounce of energy into her legs, racing towards the exit, praying that she could reach it in time.

With a final burst of speed, she reached the doors and threw them open, the cool night air rushing in. She bolted outside, her feet pounding against the gravel path as she fled from the mansion. Relief washed over her as she thought she had finally escaped Cross's wrath.

But her relief was short-lived. Suddenly, she felt an invisible force lift her off the ground. She gasped, her limbs flailing as she tried to grasp onto something, anything, to anchor herself. The force pulled her upwards, her body suspended in mid-air, the ground far below her.

“Aaahhh!” she yelled.

Much to her horror, as she was suspended in the air, the invisible force sucked her backwards.

Her screams pierced the stillness of the night as she was violently dragged backwards by the unseen force. Her body flew through the air with terrifying speed, the world around her a chaotic blur. She twisted and writhed, her hands clawing at the empty air, desperate to escape the force's relentless grip. Panic surged through her veins, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

The gravel path beneath her blurred, and she felt the cold night air whip against her face. The full moon cast an eerie glow over the surroundings, illuminating the twisted trees and casting long, ghostly shadows across the ground. The scent of damp earth and night-blooming flowers filled the air, but she could hardly register it over the roar of her own fear.

With a bone-jarring thud, she landed on the ground, the impact knocking the breath out of her. Pain radiated through her body, but she forced herself to get up, her limbs trembling with the effort. Her eyes darted around wildly, searching for any sign of her pursuer.

The mansion loomed behind her, its dark silhouette stark against the moonlit sky. The windows glinted ominously, reflecting the pale light like cold, unfeeling eyes. She could hear the distant rustling of leaves, the occasional hoot of an owl, but her focus remained on the immediate danger.

“Ahh!” she yelped.

Suddenly, she spotted him. Cross stood at the edge of the clearing, his red eyes glowing like embers in the darkness. His presence was a dark void, drawing in all light and warmth. The objects around him floated and spun in a sinister dance, their movements erratic and threatening.

She knew she had to get away. Summoning every ounce of strength, she scrambled to her feet and sprinted towards the dense forest. The trees seemed to close in around her, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands. The moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.

She could hear Cross's footsteps behind her, the sound a relentless drumbeat of impending doom. The air crackled with tension, the energy of his wrath palpable. The objects he controlled hurtled through the air, crashing into the trees and sending splinters flying.

Branches whipped against her face, the underbrush snagging at her dress, but she pressed on, her heart pounding with fear and determination. The forest seemed to stretch endlessly, each step an agonizing effort. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, but she refused to stop.

Cross was indeed a stranger to her, but to some point, she could vouch that they had some familiarity with each other now; however, tonight, he appeared to her like a beast who moved based on his instincts alone. He didn’t recognize her. It was like a hound who saw her as a potential prey.

It seemed that something was controlling him. He seemed possessed. In the teachings of the church, the demon could have already possessed him. No, he looked like the demon itself at that moment.

Her heart raced as she plunged deeper into the forest, the sounds of her own panicked breaths mixing with the rustle of leaves and the snapping of branches. The moonlight barely penetrated the dense canopy above, casting eerie, shifting shadows on the forest floor.

“Haaa! Haaa!” she was catching her breath. She never ran this frantic and fast, not since her father chasing after her.

She could hear his footsteps growing louder, his relentless pursuit closing the distance between them. The objects he controlled crashed through the trees, branches snapping and splinters flying as they hurtled towards her. She ducked and weaved, her instincts driving her forward even as exhaustion threatened to overtake her.

Her mind raced with thoughts of escape, but it seemed there was no end to the forest, no safe haven to be found. The trees closed in around her, their branches clawing at her dress and scratching her skin. She stumbled over roots and rocks, her body aching from the strain, but she refused to stop.

Just as she thought she might be able to lose him in the dense undergrowth, she felt a powerful force grab hold of her. It lifted her off the ground, her limbs flailing as she tried to grasp onto something, anything, to anchor herself. The force pulled her upwards, her body suspended in mid-air, the ground far below her.

Cross emerged from the shadows, his eyes glowing with a malevolent red light. He moved with an otherworldly grace, his movements fluid and precise. He reached out with one hand, and Noumenon felt the invisible force tighten around her, squeezing the breath from her lungs.

He approached her slowly, a horrifying smirk playing on his lips.

"There's no one here to save you,” he hissed, his voice filled with dark amusement.

She struggled against the force, her vision blurring as she fought for breath. Her heart pounded in her chest, fear and desperation driving her to keep fighting. But it was no use; the force was too strong, and she felt herself growing weaker by the second.

He reached out and grabbed her by the throat, his grip cold and unyielding. He pulled her closer, his eyes boring into hers with a terrifying intensity.

"You’re better off dead," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

Noumenon's vision darkened, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. She felt the life slipping away from her, her body growing limp in his grasp. Just when she thought it was the end, a figure appeared behind Cross, moving swiftly and silently.

Doctor Dunong stepped out of the shadows, a syringe in hand. With a swift motion, he plunged the needle into his neck, injecting the sedative. His eyes widened in shock, his grip on her throat loosening as the sedative took effect.

Cross staggered back, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. He tried to resist, but the sedative quickly overpowered him. He collapsed to the ground, his body limp and motionless.

Noumenon fell to her knees, gasping for breath, her vision blurring as she struggled to take in the cool night air. She clutched her throat, her lungs burning with every wheezing gasp. Doctor Dunong knelt beside her, his expression filled with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle but urgent.

She nodded weakly, her body trembling from the ordeal.

He helped her to her feet, his arm around her shoulders for support.

"Walk ahead first," he said, his tone reassuring. "I’ll take care of the young man."

Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she slowly walked away, her legs barely able to support her weight. She glanced back at Cross. He looked like a pale corpse illuminated by the moonlight. What happened tonight was a testament to the kind of danger she had associated herself with. There was more to him than meets the eye.

The first light of dawn filtered through the heavy drapes, casting a faint glow in his room. He awoke with a start, his body aching and his mind clouded with confusion. He felt spent, as if he had been through a great ordeal. Sitting up slowly, he rubbed his eyes and tried to piece together the fragments of his memory.

The last thing Cross remembered was praying, seeking solace in the familiar words that had once brought him comfort. But then, everything went blank. He had lost consciousness, his actions shrouded in darkness.

With a sense of foreboding, he rose from his bed and made his way to the antique mirror that stood in one corner of the room. As he approached, his reflection came into view, and he was struck by the sight that greeted him. Born an albino, his blue eyes had irises tinged with a disturbing pink hue, a vivid reminder of the darkness that resided within him.

He stared at his reflection, his eyes searching for any sign of the person he once was. The blue of his irises seemed to shimmer and shift, the pink tint creating an otherworldly glow. The contrast was jarring, a visual representation of the internal struggle he faced. It was as if the demon within him had left its mark, a permanent stain on his very soul.

His breath caught in his throat as he reached up to touch his face, his fingers brushing against the cool surface of the mirror. The reflection stared back at him, a mixture of fear and determination etched in his features. He had to regain control, to master the darkness before it consumed him entirely.

He turned away from the mirror and made his way out of his room. The mansion was eerily quiet, the stillness of the early morning broken only by the distant chirping of birds. As he made his way out, he began to notice the signs of chaos around him.

The hallway was littered with debris—broken furniture, shattered glass, and scattered objects.

The walls bore the marks of his rampage, deep gouges and scratches marring the once pristine surface. He stepped over the wreckage.

This has happened before, he thought, a sense of dread settling over him. He knew all too well the signs of his own destructive power, the aftermath of the darkness that resided within him.

As he reached the main entrance, he saw the large double doors standing ajar, the cool morning air wafting in. He stepped outside and surveyed the scene. The gravel path was disturbed, and the forest beyond seemed to hold an air of tension, as if it, too, had witnessed the events of the previous night.