Revenge
And then There
WAS no
Order...
No...
Order...
Swords and sheilds clash with claws and bone and teeth and jaws clamped with hate and sorrow and still it was relentless...
The Shadows...
Inside...
The man.
The scarlet rain droplets fell gently to the ground of the green, green grass, never had it seen such a day of colour.
A Day of Death.
Death Death What Death?
Oh sweet Death Death Such a great Death!
Relentless; Elevated; Neither; Not; All? Perhaps not, but the man felt great. His cloak whipped about him as stalked through the cobbled streets that ran red with the blood of children.
A child killer.
A heartless man.
Destroyer of families.
Scum.
The great sword's tip dragged menacingly across the ground, he seemed even to weak to hold up his sword. A gloved hand limply dragging that weapon behind him, his boots jingled with every slow cumbersome step, like some grea weight bore down upon his hunched cloaked form.
"Come... Come... Come..." He repeated under his breaths, the man's eyes wide, deep black rings under his eyes showing his lack of sleep, the bloodshoted veins within the sclera of his eyes readying to burst out his tiredness across the cobbled street.
"... I'll kill you... For what you have done!" A bulky man, stood before the killer.
Returned silence offered back to him.
"Fuck you!" The big man lifted his sword-
They're coming...
They're coming to get me...
... To get me! No! I won't let them!
My body! MINE! MINE!
Is it mine?
It's mine... MINE!
Warmer blood splattered across the ground as the great sword slid neatly down the middle of the big man. The tip connected to the ground below him, it took several moments for the killer to compose himself, his oppenent falling into two unequal halves.
Before he moved on the man paused yet again. Someone ELSE was standing in his way. Tilting up his head and straightening his body he slowly gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.
His eyes were wide and his mouth gawking open like he saw some ghost. Other hand meeting with the hilt he lifted the weapon up into the air, as if he was about to slice this obstruction in half as well.
"YOUR MINE!!!" He cried, readying himself to drag down the sword when... The sword was torn out of his hand and flung to the side effortlessly. He fell back onto his ass and moved his arms infront of his face, screaming.
"Stay back!
"Keep away from me!"
His form began to shadow as the light of the sun - there was a sun? Was it a moon? He couldn't tell... A bright light stood behind the black cloaked figure, casting it's long shadow down to loom over him, to cast his gaze up into the hood of Darkness.
Something gripped his wrists and ankles...
Something was prying his mouth open.
Something was drawing out his tongue!
MERCY!
HAVE MERCY ON ME!
A runed sword carved off his tongue.
The man writhed like some fish out of water. Held into place by god knows what, he then came to look about him for the first time ever and came to realise it was night. The light was COMING from the cloaked thing... Too same... A darkness deep within that hood.
His screams were muffled by his gurgles of blood pouring down into the back of his throat from his recently removed tongue.
The figure's gloved grip clenched tighter upon the blade, moving the tip to the man's forehead.
"... Why?" Lucy Ravenlock questioned.
The man smirked.
It was a child... And he launched forward suddenly, his hands griping around the child's neck. Laughter twisted into a shrilling shriek as if by magic - his fingers were bent to snap off.
"Why do you do it?" Lucy pushed the writing man away, stepping back a little. She didn't like pain, but right now... Lucy saw it in this brutal man's eyes and she was worshipping it.
"People like you..." Lucy's tone darkened, her brown orbs letting loose a mist... of mana. "Deserve to die."
Unimaginable mutilation. Wrists went back to snap, ankles twisted to break, legs pulled untill the knee ligaments tore, and lastly...
Lucy walked along side the unmoving man.. His eyes wide, almost somewhere between passing out and screaming out his pain, she aimed the sword down, both hands moving to the hilt... And down the blade went - the man's legs tensed, jerked upwards and then fell to the ground once more.
The brutal child murderer was found dead the next morning, inside the streets of Rhy'Din itself.
And then There
WAS no
Order...
No...
Order...
Swords and sheilds clash with claws and bone and teeth and jaws clamped with hate and sorrow and still it was relentless...
The Shadows...
Inside...
The man.
The scarlet rain droplets fell gently to the ground of the green, green grass, never had it seen such a day of colour.
A Day of Death.
Death Death What Death?
Oh sweet Death Death Such a great Death!
Relentless; Elevated; Neither; Not; All? Perhaps not, but the man felt great. His cloak whipped about him as stalked through the cobbled streets that ran red with the blood of children.
A child killer.
A heartless man.
Destroyer of families.
Scum.
The great sword's tip dragged menacingly across the ground, he seemed even to weak to hold up his sword. A gloved hand limply dragging that weapon behind him, his boots jingled with every slow cumbersome step, like some grea weight bore down upon his hunched cloaked form.
"Come... Come... Come..." He repeated under his breaths, the man's eyes wide, deep black rings under his eyes showing his lack of sleep, the bloodshoted veins within the sclera of his eyes readying to burst out his tiredness across the cobbled street.
"... I'll kill you... For what you have done!" A bulky man, stood before the killer.
Returned silence offered back to him.
"Fuck you!" The big man lifted his sword-
They're coming...
They're coming to get me...
... To get me! No! I won't let them!
My body! MINE! MINE!
Is it mine?
It's mine... MINE!
Warmer blood splattered across the ground as the great sword slid neatly down the middle of the big man. The tip connected to the ground below him, it took several moments for the killer to compose himself, his oppenent falling into two unequal halves.
Before he moved on the man paused yet again. Someone ELSE was standing in his way. Tilting up his head and straightening his body he slowly gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.
His eyes were wide and his mouth gawking open like he saw some ghost. Other hand meeting with the hilt he lifted the weapon up into the air, as if he was about to slice this obstruction in half as well.
"YOUR MINE!!!" He cried, readying himself to drag down the sword when... The sword was torn out of his hand and flung to the side effortlessly. He fell back onto his ass and moved his arms infront of his face, screaming.
"Stay back!
"Keep away from me!"
His form began to shadow as the light of the sun - there was a sun? Was it a moon? He couldn't tell... A bright light stood behind the black cloaked figure, casting it's long shadow down to loom over him, to cast his gaze up into the hood of Darkness.
Something gripped his wrists and ankles...
Something was prying his mouth open.
Something was drawing out his tongue!
MERCY!
HAVE MERCY ON ME!
A runed sword carved off his tongue.
The man writhed like some fish out of water. Held into place by god knows what, he then came to look about him for the first time ever and came to realise it was night. The light was COMING from the cloaked thing... Too same... A darkness deep within that hood.
His screams were muffled by his gurgles of blood pouring down into the back of his throat from his recently removed tongue.
The figure's gloved grip clenched tighter upon the blade, moving the tip to the man's forehead.
"... Why?" Lucy Ravenlock questioned.
The man smirked.
It was a child... And he launched forward suddenly, his hands griping around the child's neck. Laughter twisted into a shrilling shriek as if by magic - his fingers were bent to snap off.
"Why do you do it?" Lucy pushed the writing man away, stepping back a little. She didn't like pain, but right now... Lucy saw it in this brutal man's eyes and she was worshipping it.
"People like you..." Lucy's tone darkened, her brown orbs letting loose a mist... of mana. "Deserve to die."
Unimaginable mutilation. Wrists went back to snap, ankles twisted to break, legs pulled untill the knee ligaments tore, and lastly...
Lucy walked along side the unmoving man.. His eyes wide, almost somewhere between passing out and screaming out his pain, she aimed the sword down, both hands moving to the hilt... And down the blade went - the man's legs tensed, jerked upwards and then fell to the ground once more.
The brutal child murderer was found dead the next morning, inside the streets of Rhy'Din itself.