VWA #9

So I figured I'd do another of M. Kirin's Virtual Writing Academy excercises, #9, to be exact. This exercise is called: Fear. I'm going to be writing for ten minutes, and won't edit as I go along like I did last time. This is going to sound terrible, but here goes:

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Everyone is gone. 

I fought to keep my breathing under control. The atrium, lit only by the coals of fires that once burned in braziers at the feet of the columns, was silent. The statues of the gods lay broken and scattered across the cold stone floor, glinting gold. Someone -- or something-- even the Deathless couldn't control, had been here. No one could have escaped in time. 

I heard breathing from across the atrium. Ragged, shaky breathing. I ran across, leaping the bloodstained altar, and knelt beside the shivering mass I could not see in the dark.

"Cualli?"

"Etzli?"

The person shook his head. "I-- You once knew me as the Deathless. But I fear--"

"You! I hope whatever came through here causes you a slow and painful death," I shouted.

"Hush!" the Deathless whispered. "This threat is not like my idiot brother. This is the Vengeance."

"The what? Did they take my brother?"

"Everyone... they took everyone. But I entreat you... Do not try to follow. They will tear you apart."

"How do I know you aren't lying?"

The Deathless laughed. "A man on his deathbed does not lie, Cualli. You know this."

"Only because of you," I told him, my voice a cold knife pressed against his throat.

"If it makes any difference... You were my favorite pupil."

"Favorite pupil!?"

Then a birdlike scream shattered the air.

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Okay, that was weird. But this is what my brain spit out, and I'm leaving it there. 

See you with more writing advice on Monday! (That is, if this hasn't scared you away with its awfulness.)