The denouement came, and with it disturbing silence.
Virgil's ears moved restlessly as the horrific screams of the God he once knew and feared, were drowned to silent sobs by an amazonian creature with wings and horns. Yet even this nearly miraculous and incredible sight was lost on him, for his sweet and darling Ava was no where to be found.
Through bated breath and clenched teeth, the guardian looked for his ward, but only found smoke encircling his hooves. "Hell or not I shall find her!" He vowed to himself, whispering the words into his blood stained chest.
Virgil's sea-green gaze rose as the God tossed towards him a bone, likened into a sword. Horrified, the guardian moved forward to stand over the thing, looking at with a wide and uncomprehending stare.
Am I meant to fight my way out of this hell? He wondered, tentatively lowering his nose to inspect the arcane weapon. But how? Who was it that he was meant to kill, to win back Ava? To secure their place in heaven? Surely it couldn't be that simple? Why should it? And how could the death of another buy his way out of his purgatory? Hadn't he killed enough already? Virgil's gaze skirted to the dead God before him, and the living one who had given him the sword. Was his death not enough? Were Virgil's struggles to keep Ava safe - his screams to move away from the water and to hide from the oncoming storm - had that not been enough?
What would be?
But perhaps most importantly and prominently
Where was Ava?
VIRGIL
Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.
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SWP :: Blunt Little Instruments (Conclusion)
