Page 269 of Psycho Gods

Life was intolerable torment, and anyone who thought otherwise had never stood over their closest friend and swung a sword as they held back a room full of mindless monsters.

Time marched forward as I sliced and blocked.

A large middle-aged male infected slammed his enchanted sword down with so much force that my right arm went completely numb.

I felt nothing.

I couldn’t move my shoulder or forearm.

Slamming my foot into the man’s knee, I used my left hand to rip the hilt out of my unmoving fingers and rammed the blade through his stomach.

Right arm useless at my side, I resumed fighting with my left. I wasn’t fully ambidextrous, but my nondominant hand was sufficient.

Sufficient was enough.

It had to be.

For Sadie.

Sweat blurred my vision, and I couldn’t see beyond my attackers and the pile of carcasses at my feet. They kept coming, and I kept getting more tired.

I barely blocked a swing. The edge of an enchanted sword sliced down the outside of my thigh, and I screamed.

Lunging, I decapitated the infected and killed the ungodly as it emerged.

But another infected appeared in its place.

Again.

Another infected appeared.

“Wake up, Sadie!” I screamed desperately, but there wasn’t so much as a twitch from the legs I bumped against as I fought.

Tears of frustration poured down my face because if she’d died, it was my fault. I’d killed her by knocking her out.

I sobbed as I fought.

Gasped for air around body-shaking sobs.

A sword swung low and cut shallowly across my shins—I didn’t react quick enough. As I collapsed to my knees, I focused on my shoulder muscles.

Wings exploded.

My shirt was covered in cuts and provided no resistance. It fluttered off me in shreds. Left hand swinging the sword to block blows that rained down from above, I clumsily grabbed a feather with my numb right hand. With every ounce of will I possessed, I ripped it off.

It burned like a motherfucker.

With no precision or accuracy, I flung the feather into the crowd. An infected screamed, and I took it as a good sign. I ripped another feather and did it again.

Again.

And again.

Bodies screamed as everything blurred.

Sweat mixed with tears, and I grabbed the brick wall to hoist my body up. A last-ditch effort. The final stalwart defense that my friend deserved.

I didn’t move.

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