The Chorus of Fire, Part 1 - Monsters

  • Part 1

     

    24th of Frostfall, 4E 204, Hammerfell, Southern Bangkorai

     

    Smoke. Smoke and fire.

     

    Two undeniable truths that became the whole world in their choking, searing grasp.

     

    And blood, ever present, tasting of iron, closely followed by death.

     

    Smoke whirled in the air, obscuring his sight, stinging his eyes and his lungs. He could feel the heat of the fire, the hot air burning his face and his arms, blinding him with heat. He coughed and that sent waves of agony into his body, as the wound on his side opened again.

     

    He growled in pain, baring his tusks as if in denial to the smoke and fire. The houses all around him were tightly engulfed in flames, blotting out the sun above his head, as he ran down the main street of the town. From all around him came the sounds of the flames, but the smoke also carried screams and shouts. Cries of pain and rage.

     

    He couldn’t allow this. He had to stop them, stop the pain, stop them from hurting.

     

    His sight was clouded by a red mist of rage that he had never ever experienced before. His blood was boiling, his muscles were tightly flexed, his breathing was fast with rasping, primal growls escaping his throat.

     

    Two shadows obscured by the smoke stepped on the main street, keeping low and he could hear them growl in the same manner he was growling, and he flashed his tusks at them, releasing a thundering battlecry from the bottom of his lungs, one he had never heard himself shout. It sounded like an angry bear, or a roaring lion. And it wasn’t the first nor the last battlecry he let out that day.

     

    The roar allowed them to home in on his location, but he wasn’t hiding. He wanted them to know. He wanted them to feel his fury, to feel his pain. It was the only way to make the pain stop. They charged through the smoke, and he ran towards them without slowing.

     

    His left hand reached for the bandolier on his chest and in one fluid movement he unsheathed and threw a throwing knife at the shadow to his left. The knife hit true, burying itself in the shadow’s throat, but even though the shadow stumbled it continued forward.

     

    They emerged from the smoke, their forms that of Redguards dressed in peasant’s clothes, but it was a lie. A trick. They were monsters wearing the familiar skin of humans, hiding their true nature under it. They were monsters…

     

    The Redguard on the left was armed with a woodcutter’s axe. He could see the knife in the Redguard’s dark skinned neck, he could see the blood staining the simple white shirt a crimson color, he could see the foam of blood around the man’s mouth as he couldn’t breathe with the knife in his throat, but still he charged. Eyes bloodshot with insane fury.

     

    The Redguard on the right was hurt too, his side and leg bleeding, but that didn’t prevent him either from charging with pitchfork in his hands as if it was a lance. The Redguard shouted and growled like an angry animal, not slowing down one bit.

     

    He reached for another knife in his bandolier only to realize there weren’t any anymore, and so he reached out into the streams of Magicka and with a flick of his wrist he pushed the pitchfork to a side, which made the Redguard lose his balance just two steps close to clashing with his opponent, completely missing his target.

     

    He sidestepped past the charge, chain links rattling as he spun the flail’s head and he swung it at the Redguard’s back. The spiked skull crushed the man’s spine and ribs with a splutter of blood, but the spikes got stuck in one of the bones and so the falling man dragged him down with him. He let go of the flail because that was when the second Redguard, the one with the knife in his throat, swung the axe at him. It was a weak swing, the Redguard’s face purple from lack of oxygen, and so he easily dodged and then he pulled the axe right out of the Redguard’s hands and buried it into his skull in one fluid movement, as if he was chopping wood.

     

    One of the Redguard’s eyes popped out as his skull split and he fell to his knees, and he smashed his own knee into the man’s face.

     

    There was something hot on his cheeks, something sticky, and he reached for his face, touching it. When he looked at his hands they were completely covered with blood and he released another primal growl, lowering himself to recover his flail.

     

    As he did so, he could feel the weapon leeching away the Redguard’s strength and lifeforce, which meant the man was still alive. His spine was shattered and his legs kept twitching in spasms, and something about that sight was so satisfying. But not satisfying enough.

     

    The chain rattled once more and he brought it down on the man’s back once more, releasing a battlecry as he did. The Redguard screamed in agony and it was music, perfectly soothing music. And he needed more of that music. To stop the pain.

     

    The flail fell down again, and again, and all the while he was growling. "STOP. HURTING. US!" he shouted until he realized that the Redguard’s whole torso was nothing but a red mash of bones, flesh and organs now, the man clearly dead. "Stop hurting us," he half-growled, half-murmured.

     

    A sound from behind made him spin around, but he wasn’t fast enough. Something punctured his flesh, and he stared at the handle of a pair of scissors protruding from his side with a strange feeling of surprise, because the pain seemed so distant, as if it wasn’t his body at all. He lifted his gaze to his assailant. An older woman, a Redguard, her eyes wide in shock and fear. She noticed he was still standing and began clawing at his eyes. "Monster!" she screamed into his face as her nails raked his skin "Stop hurting us! Stop hurting us! Monster!"

     

    He could feel the power the flail drained from his last victim and he simply pushed her hands away and grabbed her by the throat with his left hand, lifting the old hag off the ground with surprising ease. "Monster," he growled into her eyes and twisted his wrist, snapping her neck. He dropped the dead bag of meat on the ground and stomped on her head for good measure.

     

    Monster… he pondered, suddenly feeling as if he was waking from a deep slumber. He groaned in pain and looked at the scissors in his body with wide eyes filled with shock, the agony now assaulting his body. He looked all around himself, at all the corpses, at the blood, at the fire and the smoke. He dropped on his knees and choked on the smoke, coughing. He coughed and coughed, every rasp sending waves of agony through his body. The ground under him was splattered with blood he was coughing out and he knew that was wrong, that he wasn’t supposed to be doing that. His gaze fell on his hands, covered with blood and clenched his jaws.

     

    "Monster," he mumbled, his mind slipping. No. He could feel his consciousness slipping away, the world going black, and his gaze fell on the flail on the ground and he resisted the urge to vomit. He couldn’t look at it anymore. And as the world was growing dark around him he reached for his Mark and Recalled.

     

    Away from this place. Away from the doleful song ringing in his ears.

     

    Away from the chorus of fire and death.

     

    Away from the monsters.

     

Comments

9 Comments   |   A-Pocky-Hah! and 6 others like this.
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  August 13, 2018
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EKu7TYWNxqA 


    Short and not very sweet and damn, that is like a nightmare of mine with scissors. *shudders*  Very curious to see where you go with this. 
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  August 13, 2018
    Seems to me that everyone thinks anyone who isn't with them are monstets. He sees the Redguards as monsters and that is how they see him...   a place like that....   ouch..
    • Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Sotek
      Sotek
      Sotek
      Seems to me that everyone thinks anyone who isn't with them are monstets. He sees the Redguards as monsters and that is how they see him...   a place like that....   ouch..
        ·  August 13, 2018
      We're all monsters, just depends who you ask. :)
      • Justiciar Thorien
        Justiciar Thorien
        Karver the Lorc
        Karver the Lorc
        Karver the Lorc
        We're all monsters, just depends who you ask. :)
          ·  August 13, 2018
        Aren't the Redguards somewhat... undead?
        • Karver the Lorc
          Karver the Lorc
          Justiciar Thorien
          Justiciar Thorien
          Justiciar Thorien
          Aren't the Redguards somewhat... undead?
            ·  August 13, 2018
          Let's call it a mystery. :)
  • Caladran
    Caladran   ·  August 13, 2018
    Hmm, in what trouble he got himself this time? :)
    • Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Caladran
      Caladran
      Caladran
      Hmm, in what trouble he got himself this time? :)
        ·  August 13, 2018
      When there isn't trouble there is nothing to write about I think :D
  • A-Pocky-Hah!
    A-Pocky-Hah!   ·  August 13, 2018
    I'm surprised at a)This was unexpected; and b)This is rather short. 
    I wonder who this 'Monster' is? Don't seem to recall anyone who uses throwing knives and Mark and Recall spells in the SR universe. :P 
    • Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      I'm surprised at a)This was unexpected; and b)This is rather short. 
      I wonder who this 'Monster' is? Don't seem to recall anyone who uses throwing knives and Mark and Recall spells in the SR universe. :P 
        ·  August 13, 2018
      Weird, I don't recall anyone like that either :D
      And yeah, it is short, it's sort of a prologue. More to follow and the length of the chapters might vary a bit.