In the torrential rain, an older man walks along the mud path that now levels with his ankles, each step is an immense effort on its own. He keeps his leather satchel close to his chest, sheltering the contents from the harsh weather of Wrah. The thunder rolls intimidating growls above, remind him that tonight is not a night to just get caught in the open.
Just below the end of his hood his gentle smile can be seen above his sharp grey beard that clings to his freckled face. His cloak is withered but tough. After today's, he could not ask for much, he has what he wants and everything can only get better from here.
Lightning whips the screaming sky,
I better get under a roof, I don't want to be soaked and catch another cold this season. He dashes around the corner toward his favourite pub within Rudan, the scent of cider and smoke guides him as he thinks of treating himself to a drink for once.
I worked my ass off today to make things work, I'm so tired after all that business, but I think I could go a pie, pint and finally relax and wait out this storm.
An agonising scream breaks through the thunders roar. He stops in his tracks and turns his head.
He slowly follows the alley way he has just passed, each flash of lightning tells him the story.
A severed leg leads to a rotund body impaled into a barrel. That man didn't have a chance to fight back as his sword is still cloaked in its fresh sheathe.
The next body tried to run, because their back is cut wide open, exposing his spine and ribs to the tormenting sky above.
He looks to the end of the alley, a bony figure just lays against a cracked crate, the man's eyes are gone, his voice is hoarse and he reaches for the sky, as if someone up there could help him now,
"ma? I'm… ah… hurt bad… help me."
In the next flash of light, his hands collapse to the ground.
How horrible. What did this?!
The next flash appears, and that impaled oaf falls into the puddles below. The next flash arrives just in time for him to see the incoming body thrown toward him.
He ducks into the mud, scrambling away and waiting to see what could have committed these fatal actions.
But no one is in the alley. Just the dead. He violently shakes under the influence of the cold and his exhaustion stops him from following his instinct to run.
"hel… help… please…" He looks at the carved-up body from before, he cannot even see a face, just the outline of a dead man.
The next flash does not reveal anything new this time, the rain continues to beat down on them. He twists his neck back toward the alley. Still nothing. He cannot see what it is.
"NO. GET AWAY FROM ME!" the old man turns to a being bearing down the begging man, did that do this?
"You p… pretend… to be de… dead?" The man flips to his stomach and crawls to the old man,
"Please, he's gonna kill me! I'm begging y-" the killer jumps on his back and digs sword in his neck. Hira watches his blood fade into the mud and his begging shifts into unrecognisable gargles.
The killer just sits on top of his dying victim, like it's watching the blood flow. The next flash shows the killers cold eyes stabbing into the old man. His scowl, his demented stare chills him to the core more than any rainfall or storm ever could.
He tries backing up slowly, gradually standing up and picking up his satchel. His eyes are locked on this thing.
Flash. He didn't see it coming.
In an instant the killer dashes to his face in the next burst of lightning. He can see every detail on his face, like the brown eyes hovering among the bloody splotches all over his face.
"Where… are…. y…you go…goin...ing" it raises its sword to his throat. He can feel the other victims blood stick to his neck,
"Make it quick son. I won't bother wasting energy running." He looks him in the eyes and waits.
It chuckles and starts pulling the blade across Hira's neck, a trickle of blood begins the end. But he looks him in the eye and accepts it. At least this'll be quicker than what those boys got.
"Ah!" it backs away, as if he hurt it.
It smashes the sword into the mud and grabs at its head,
"STOP, this isn't right!" he viciously pulls at his hair and flails around as if in pain,
"Rrraaaaagh! Let me spill the old fucks innards!" it snaps his head back at Him. Its hands shake, covered in blood, its blood. It collapses to its knees,
"No, stop… stop it. Enough. NO MORE!" its cold eyes fade to a soft sorrowful gaze.
The old man stands in disbelief, still feeling the gradual stream of blood on his neck thin out and stop at his chest. He turns to the blade and the final flash of the violent lightning highlights a wolfs head carving on a large curved blade glistening in blood.
The FANG!?
"I'm so sorry." he starts to sob uncontrollably. The rain would've disguised it if he wasn't so close. The old man starts to walk to him slowly.
"You need to stay away from me." he pauses, staring at this monster - no. This MAN. He finds the courage to approach him still. He kneels in front of him, level with his face.
The traces of that killing machine seem to have faded with the lightning, as his eyes show a completely different man, shit, more like a boy! How old is he?
He can see the guilt, and even a confused young man burdened by a bloody past, and something lurking within him he cannot control or understand.
"What's your name son?" he places a hand on his shoulder, the boy flinches slightly, and his breathing suddenly quickens.
"J… I am the Fan- But I think my name is Kayg- No, B'RAY. Wait, no that isn't right…" the boy scratches at the bloody spot on his snow-white hair. "Ah, I DON'T KNOW!" He digs his nails into his arm, almost scraping the flesh off in one go.
"Hey, it's ok, it's alright. We can figure that out." He looks back at the sword of the infamous killer, then back to the boy crying in front of him. He walks over to the sword. Using his jumper, he wraps the blade and hilt with it, away from any prying eyes. He needs to recover. Needs a place to think.
"Let's go son." The boy looks up at him with fearful eyes, "Don't worry, I want to help you son."
Its eyes follow up his hand, past his arm up to his peaceful smile, how can he be so kind!? I almost killed him. I was going to.
"Everyone deserves a chance. You let me live there. You fought back against that feeling to kill, so I want to give you a chance kid, please." He stands up and extends his hand again.
The lost boy slowly takes his hand and rises from the cold muddy ground.