It
was through the old streets of Jerusalem, at night, with trembling
torches in one hand, the other at the ready to draw for the threat of
Saladin was near.
The
night stood quiet, too quiet, the wind from time to time hit the
patrol tenderly but every time it felt as if a knife was crossing
through their skin, that they had been betrayed by their senses and
their death had finally arrived.
None
of this had happened so far, the weeks at night quiet but tense and
even more during the day with everyone waiting for the dreaded
strike, the patrols doubled and tripled, men pushed to the brink by
the horror of a full scale attack, how would they fare, how long
could they survive, how horrible would be their death, some had come
to bet on the situation, the money had been hidden in a reservoir, at
the bottom, for the survivors to live off from it as an insurance,
others would drink it all away and hope for the best, or the worst.
Throughout
the dead streets they heard their own footsteps, always wary of the
direction the sound came from it never ceased to stress them, their
armor crunching and ripping, leather and metal in clash, the torches
cracking slowly and if they stood quiet long enough not only could
they hear their breathing, their heartbeat throbbed hard on their
ears, fast.
It
wasn't long for them to find an oddity in the streets, a man lay
dead, at first they stood in shock at the visage, then rapidly
attended the body to find the culprit, their failure to rapidly grasp
what was happening led them to their doom.
Rats,
rushing out of the shadows in the hundreds, silently awaiting for
their next pray, screams of panic and warning were followed by those
of pain and horror, the torches did little to put them out of harms
way, swords ineffective with such small targets even in the
quantities present they seemed well aware of their intentions and
evaded easily, their armors useless as the rodents flew towards their
face and any openings between legs, arms or chest, no flesh left to
tear, no bones left to gnaw, the metal and leather turn to pieces or
taken away by the wave, the torches only a few splinters now, nothing
remained save for the infusion of terror that the surrounding
inhabitants had to live with every night, pray the next victims were
not them.
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