THE PRIEST OF SATAN MARIA - ( FOUR-AND-A-HALF YEARS EARLIER ) [ CHAPTER 49 ] - { PT. 8 }

 THE TWO MEN ROLLED -  ( CHAPTER  49 )  -  { PT.  8 } - like tumbleweeds down the sloping deck, speeding through fore and knocking against sharp, unidentifiable obstacles--both maintaining their grips like two vices. Their descent to the ocean depths was shielded by a large cargo container loosely hinged in mid-air. It creaked beneath their weight as if this one more pressure was just too much to bear, and at any moment it would plunge into the sea and take them with it. Both men were indifferent to the danger. With Kristoff pinned to the ground, Christiano had the advantage; his hands clamped around his neck in an indomitable grip. The assassin's hands were cemented to Christiano's wrists, pushing against him with all his strength. The sweat on their bodies sizzled. The heat from the scorching fire was hazardously close. The groaning cargo container continued to hinge up and down like a seesaw. Each movement threatened them with imminent death. Sweat dripped from Christiano's forehead into one of Kristoff's eyes. It stung, forcing it to shut. The assassin's face strained purple as he wrestled to catch a breath, but Christiano's wide eyes were red with fury, his tremulous hands seeking their own vengeance. Kristoff's battle was coming to an end--his lungs, devoid of air were on the verge of exploding.