Hill scrambled backwards as the ghost drew closer, trying to put as much distance as possible between them.
His heart, which had been beating a bit slowly a few moments ago, was now pounding against his ribs.
The approaching figure was the stuff of his nightmares, and it terrified him to his very core. His limbs barely responded to his commands, stumbling and tripping awkwardly as he retreated backward.
But it kept pressing forward, moving at a steady pace towards him without speeding up or slowing down.
"Stay away!" He yelled, raising his fists as he planted his feet. "O-or I'll hit you!"
The ghost didn't react to his yelling and instead continued to move forward. The grimace on its pale face seemed to darken as it got closer, defying the faint light eminating from his body. Hill shut his eyes and threw a punch as the ghost came within reach.
His fist whooshed through empty air. He gasped, opening his eyes just in time to see the ghost pass through his body and emerge on the other side.
I can't touch it??
Hill spun around, but the ghost turned faster. Its skeletal palm slammed into his midsection, driving all air from his lungs as he flew backwards. He coughed violently, clutching his stomach as tears formed in his eyes.
That hurt so much!
The blow hadn't just hurt physically—it felt as if it had struck something deeper inside him. Almost as if he had briefly lost some authority over his limbs.
The ghost never stopped. It drifted closer, its empty eye sockets fixed on him despite the obvious lack of eyes. Its skeletal hands hung at its sides, seemingly ready to launch another painful palm attack.
Hill pushed himself up onto his elbows, his mind racing as he struggled to think of a way to counter. Kael's words echoed again: "Your only job is to destroy it."
That meant that running away from it would be pointless. He had to destroy it.
But how? How could he destroy something he couldn't even touch? There had to some sort of weakness that he could exploit. He just needed to find that weakness and capitalize on it as soon as possible.
Otherwise, he wouldn't last against this monster.
He scrambled back, slipping awkwardly on the smooth asphalt.
The ghost reached him again. This time, its skeletal hand swung in a wide horizontal arc, connecting with his ribs. The impact was noticeably harder than before, sending waves of pain through his side and stealing his breath as his body soared through the air before crashing hard against the hard ground.
He cried out, clutching the flesh around the injured area.
It's getting stronger, he realized with fresh panic. But that didn't feel true to him. His limbs were much more shaky now. It actually felt like he was the one getting weaker and not the ghost getting stronger.
Those palm attacks... I can't keep taking them.
The ghost didn't seem intent on allowing him time to recover. It circled around him like a patient predator, its movements smooth and taunting as it observed its prey.
Then, it struck again, a backhanded blow across his face that snapped his head back with such force he thought his neck broke. Stars exploded behind his eyes.
As the ghost drifted in for another attack, Hill planted his feet once more. He didn't try to block or dodge. Instead, ignoring his earlier failure, he threw another punch—a desperate haymaker that was aimed right at the ghost's bony face.
Time seemed to warp for an instant. The ghost's hand moved in. Hill's fist flew toward its target.
Craack!
A painful shock travelled up Hill's arm as his fist cracked against the ghost's cheekbone, the sensation feeling completely different in comparison to swishing through empty air.
It wasn't like striking solid flesh and bone, more like hitting tightly packed ice, for some reason. At that exact moment though, the ghost's palm connected with his chest.
Pain exploded within him. He was flung backwards again, landing in a heap, drool seeping from his mouth.
It was confirmed now, the ghost's attacks were weakening him with every iteration.
But amidst all the pain, a spark of revelation sparked inside his mind. He felt it. For that single tiny moment of impact, the ghost had become solid, allowing him to interact with it. His fist definitely made contact!
He pushed himself up, ignoring the screaming pain in his torso, face, and arm. A wide grin spread across his bloody face.
It was possible. Maybe, just maybe, he could destroy the manifestation after all. He just had to hit it at the exact moment it tried to hit him. And... try not to get destroyed in the process.
The ghost seemed frozen in place, its head and body angled awkwardly from the impact of Hill's punch.
Hill's smile widened. "What's wrong? You weren't expecting that, were you?" His spirit was rising.
The ghost remained still for a few seconds, then straightened its posture with a loud series of cracks and pops. Its expression changed from a frozen grimace to a smile that was unnaturally wide and uncomfortable to look at, revealing blood-stained teeth that were serrated and dripping with saliva.
Before Hill could even register the change, the ghost vanished, appearing right beside him as it slammed its fist into his sternum. Hill felt his chest give slightly as his body folded from the impact like paper, sending him flying backwards.
The blow was so powerful that it felt as if he was suspended in the air for a few seconds. The sensation of his body slamming against the ground quickly reorientated his mind.
Blood poured from his nose and mouth as he coughed. He tried to breathe but the very attempt caused pain to explode within his chest. Tears streamed from his eyes as he forced himself to his feet.
It suddenly got faste—
But the ghost was on him again, slamming its palm against his back and crushing him against the ground. The force created several cracks that spread across the surface beneath him.
He screamed out in pain, before being silenced by another painful palm attack to his back. Each consecutive impact felt even worser than the last as the ground beneath him began to crumble from the pressure.
He was slowly being buried alive as his body sunk deeper and deeper.
His body was breaking as the ghost relentlessly hammered him against the ground. In a desperate attempt to survive, he reached out just as the ghost went for his neck, grabbing its ankle as its bony palm touched the back of his neck.
The impact slammed his throat against the ground, causing cuts to open on the soft side where his skin pressed against the rubble. But it was worth it.
The ghost's foot remained solid even after he grabbed it, confirming a desperate theory he'd formed while being beaten.
The ghost could only interact with him if it materialized into human form. This materialization seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, giving just enough time for the ghost to land blow after blow. But in his desperation, Hill wondered if the ghost could change back to its ghostly form if he held onto it.
And so it was that when he grabbed the skeletal ankle of the ghost, he realized that the ghost couldn't shift if it was in direct contact with his body. This was why it attacked using powerful strikes designed to touch Hill's body briefly.
He spat out a mouthful of blood, then screamed with all his might as he pulled on the ghost's leg, causing it to lose balance and fall to the ground. Not as a ghost, but as a fully solid being.