Outskirts of Mirefield, day one.
"RUAK!" Pela yells, but her voice sounds so far away. The bloodwolf whines in pain and finally unlatches from my arm, leaving me a mangled stump to work with. I grab another vial and pour it over my arm, manic chuckling escaping my lips as searing pain flows along my nerves. "That's all you got bitch?" I sneer, loving every second of the wolf's agony. I'm in a horrible position right now, one of my hands is now a mangled stump, and this wolf bitch's pack is probably coming over right now. The bloodwolf roars in a challenge, bloodlust exploding from itsw body. I let out a chuckle.
"That tickles" and I let out my bloodlust, causing the wolf to cower in terror. "Flee." I command, my bloodlust taking over the bloodwolf's pathetic excuse of it. Knowing who's the apex predator here, the bloodwolf scurries off like the bitch she is. "There it is" I murmur as the pain finally catches up to me, causing me to tumble face-first into the deer. "FUC-" I don't even finish my curse as I get a mouthful of deer. Pela runs over panicked and flips me off the deer, worry evident in her eyes.
"Are you okay?!" She looks at my wound with unease. "Do I look okay? I just got a mouthful of fucking DEER!" I exclaim, a deep hatred towards deer kind manifesting. "NOT THE FUCKING DEER YOUR ARM" Pela exclaims back, flinging spit in my face. "Just get me up and maybe I'll live long enough back to camp". I joke, Pela helping me up with a groan. I fling a throwing spike into the deer's eye socket, killing it instantly. "Grab the deer" I hiss, struggling with the pain to make the words, not garble. Pela looks at me like I'm insane, which in all fairness I probably am.
"THE DEER? YOUR ARMS A FUCKING SPITTIN MESS AND YOUR THINKING ABOUT THE DEER?" Pela yells. The audacity! It's as if he has no sense of self-preservation! I gently peek at his mind and find out why.
*Need the Deer, gotta feed those fucking kids
Fuck me, gotta get the deer to those starving people.
Is this it? Last stop?
"No" Ruak growls, grabbing a vial of some green, unknown liquid. With the slightest hesitation he chugs it down, the sound of the now-empty vial almost inaudible to his screams. I watch in horror as the muscle, flesh, and bone rots away until only a stump remains. I reach towards him before being stopped by a wave of his hands. He smiles gently in an attempt to reassure me, his bloodstained teeth glinting in the dying sunlight. Blood flows from his lip as he screams once more, his arm growing back slowly.
Fear roots me to the ground, it's as if I can't even move a muscle! I watched helplessly as the bone materialized from the stump, slowly being re-created before the muscle, tendons, nerves are painstaking re-made. The whole process only took seconds but to me, It took a century. Steam rises from his arm as he falls to one knee, the irises of his eyes flickering from brown to crimson, before finally resting on brown.
Freed from the fear's grasp I rushed to him, his once mangled arm resurrected as if nothing happened. For the second time, he asks me to grab the deer and I obey, the unrestrained bloodlust flowing from him and my sense of self-preservation overruling my concern for his safety. Ruak helps me with the deer and we head back to camp, before making a pit stop for my gown, which I luckily have privacy this time. We finally arrive from the treeline and I drop to my knees in shock.
The camp is in anarchy. The nobles cower behind the Knight Company, who are struggling in their own right against the pack of bloodwolves. Alanus appears before us, grabbing me and we appear back inside the safety of the knight company. "What about Ruak?" my words come out as a whisper, as I stare at Alanus, waiting for his response. "Not my orders, he's on his own."
A head rolls and hits Ruak's foot. I look down and lock eyes with Olivers.
*" Right away Sir!"
"Last week Sir Ruak"
..He.. he had so much ahead of him. Does anyone else know his struggle? Oliver's starving nights? The hours he put into his dream of shoe polishing? I saw, in the dark of night. I saw Oliver polish his shoes, and I saw determination, I saw the fire in his eyes. I secretly rooted for him as he worked again and again last night. And Now? Poor Oliver's fucking dead, he's fucking dead because he was lucky enough to be born in a family wealthy enough to add him to the bloody security list! I look up and see a deadly *juxtaposition, the nobles, and Pela safe and sound, fucking sucking each other off where the peasants and slumies fight for their lives.
CHOMP
"IT HURTS SO MUCH! PLEASE, SOMEONE, ANYONE HELP ME!"
A girl, no taller than 5'5 pleas falls on deaf ears as the bloodwolf bites harder, ending her suffering and sending her to the gods above.
The trench coat slides off as if it knew the manslaughter to come. I take my shirt off and drape it over Oliver's lone head, closing his pure eyes from the carnage. My tomahawk finds its way in hand as if sensing my desire to kill those fucking wolves. The runes on my skin glow as my defective mana makes its presence known. My rope dart makes itself home in my free hand as a roar of challenge escapes my lips. I count maybe 10 bloodwolves, and I have maybe 5 minutes before *mana deficiency fucks me over.
By the first 30 seconds, I already draw my first blood. My speed naked to a human eye, and certainly naked to these bloodwolves. I appear out of nowhere on the back of my first victim my tomahawk easily penetrating the flesh and skull of the beast, as the wolf goes limp with an agony-filled whine. I whip my head around and see the crimson red hide of a bloodwolf racing towards a cowering peasant.
I leave my tomahawk buried in deadwolf one's skull as I throw my rope dart towards the wolf trying to feast on the defenseless peasant. The dart hits a bullseye in the wolf's eye, and with a tug, I fling towards the half-blind wolf. Channeling the runes inscribed into the flesh and bone of my arm, I punch into its skull, my hand punching through flesh and bone. After the fifth punch, I find it's skull, my ears about to go deaf from its pained yells. I punch even harder, sending bone fragments from its skull into the wolf's vulnerable brain. After a
After a couple of more punches, the wolf goes limp and its screams are no more. I dig around and grab a handful of its brain, flinging it to the ground with mocked disdain. I raise my free hand and my tomahawk frees itself from the dead wolf's one head with a sickening SPLURGE. "Two down, eight left" I growl, all remaining survivors of the pack all focusing on me. A crazed smile forms on my lips as I force the runes itched on my skin more mana, vomiting blood on the floor. I wipe my mouth with my blood-soaked hand, my face now covered in wolf blood and gore.
I raise my tomahawk in challenge towards the rest of the pack.
"WHO'S FUCKING NEXT?"
*These are either Ruak's inner thoughts that Pela is peeking in or flashbacks
*juxtaposition-"Juxtaposition is an act or instance of placing two elements close together or side by side. This is often done in order to compare/contrast the two, to show similarities or differences, etc."-Wikipedia definition.