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[ death]


They thought about being young, and not having accomplished their mission. They thought about their life being aimless, and their devotion to the family too short-sighted, and one-sided. They thought about thousands of books they wouldn’t have time to read now; days of blooming cherry-trees they wouldn’t enjoy; countless worlds they hadn’t gone into; countless dreams they hadn’t dreamt. All that had been movement and light and dance and battle and emotion and bloom was now darkness and immobility, and hard as Wylfenne was grasping at their memories of being alive, it was falling into nothingness now. Were they sorry? Were they pitying themselves? Not too much. The fading mind wondered lazily whether it was a trap and betrayal on behalf of the Clan of Death, whether they just wanted to eliminate Amityville and whether it was just pure bad luck that guest students happened to participate in the training. While waiting for the complete blackout they also thought about other students – would anyone be able to survive, or was it all pointless and staged?

You b***h! wailed their other, male, half. You can’t even die properly! Aren't you too soon to give up? Wasn’t it too evident that the first and only experience on the Island of Death would be Death itself? Get up! The voice went on, imploring them to show to that band of occults that they were not over yet. Now they were angry, angry with the humans that somehow got too quick and too strong, angry with themselves to have been defeated by a human (or actually, his horse which was even worse); angry with the Death clan to cast them off like garbage without any warning into the battle with the humans – was it a repetition of the mysterious last battle with the humans they kept talking about; angry with their family to have sacrificed them so lightly….

And then they tried to get up and to fight again, and they felt someone was staring with pity at them, and they asked themselves whether they looked pitiful, but the body was too slow, too clumsy, numb with that dumbness of death, and they managed to make one last movement, but the horse that trapped them under it was too heavy, and they just turned awkwardly, and yet another bone cracked, and then it was all over and they were gaping blindly at the brilliant blue sky as if surprised it was all too short and if they fought well and if there was anything afterwards.

She could hear so many voices around her, they were so faint and convoluted. She couldn't make out anything that was being said. She just knew that as each second passed, they grew quieter. The ghoul knew it wasn't because they were moving away, but because she was fading out of existence. Her breaths were so shallow that she doubted anyone would notice she was still trying to inhale. She couldn't see, and she couldn't really feel anymore. Pain had literally replaced every other feeling, so much so that she had just become numb.

Whisper's thoughts were of nothing. Her mind was blank. She couldn't bring herself to think. She just knew that this was her last few moments. She was alone, and that was ok. She let the inky blackness of death take hold of her, sinking into what felt like an ocean. This was it, her last moment. Her final exhale. It was over. She had dissipated into nothingness.

[death]

Lou was honestly a little more excited than he had been on the isle of conquest. Things around here seemed more.. Well, more badass. He liked that. It was up his alley. Hooded robes and mysterious figures? Hell yeah. A tune popped into his head as their 'teacher' approached. Something about ooo eee ooo ahh ahh ting tang walla walla bing bang? Yeaaaah. He liked that tune.

"Oh boy, doors. Pick a door, any door!" The boil chirped, more to himself than any of the students around him. Hands in his pockets, he grinned and skipped right on in. Charms and incense had been easy. Maybe this would actually be...

Fun?

Where the hell were they? What the hell was this? Had she just used some weird voodoo s**t on them? All he could really say was "Daaaaymn." Centaurs running wild! Carnage all around! Whispers of humans and bases! Old school nudity! What was all this? Pick a weapon? b***h, he WAS a weapon! oh well. Might as well go with a good old fashioned sickle. Though rightfully Lou wasn't exactly proficient with weapons. He was probably holding it all wrong, though he assumed it was just a dumb simulation spell anyways. They had that, right?

Right?

And then Lou became surrounded. "Oy, ye blood suckin' leech. C'mere and let us have some 'o yer crimson." One of the older, gray haired men mumbled. It appeared that he had lost an eye. Standing on either side of him looked to be his younger sons. Ah, a family. How quaint.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you accusing me of hogging all the blood? Because I'm pretty sure you're full of it yourself. I-" Before Lou could finish what would most likely be a crude or ironic turn of words, the two sons charged at him, causing the boil to recoil. Not soon enough though. His cockiness earned him a good hit across the face from a pair of chains.

A low growl rose from the vampire's throat, not bothering to check his throbbing wounds. Instead, he lunged for the man that undoubtedly raised his two attackers with love and care, raising his sickle to the man's head. "The family that stays together gets slain together." It was a rather pathetic comeback, but it made the boil feel better. And when the two other human spawn, struck with grief bowed over the remains of their father, Lou struck them down too, but not before the last one slashed one of his legs. Damn it to hell that hurt!

And there Lou stood, brused, beaten, and bleeding, directly in front of the man who would ultimately be his demise. A man mounted on a glorious white steed which had the same dark red droplets decorating its sturdy frame. Truly a sight to behold, even through Lou's spiral eyes.

"Have at you, creature of darkness!" The valiant knight exclaimed, brandishing his weapon directly at Lou.

The vampire was having a hard time seeing, but he could still smell and hear the man. Why was he fighting? It didn't matter. There was something magical about the potential to take another life. Humans didn't respawn, did they?

Which meant he was permanently ending an existence.

Glorious. Just glorious! "Have at you, worthless human!" Lou snarled, his elongated fangs shimmering in the light of the gruesome scene.

As the horse let out it's shrieking cry, the vampire readied himself, pointed ears on the ready for the sound of clopping. When it was just close enough, he jumped as high as his good leg would allow and latched onto the steed, the battle taking place on it's back. Lou clawed and grasped at it as he swung the sickle at his master. The man managed to cut Lou's neck open, but in the end, the vampire claimed his worthy opponent's life.

When the foe fell off his horse, so did Lou. He laid there in a futile attempt to regain his strength... Only to meet with the hooves of a creature he had forgotten about.

{{Watching}}

The moment they materialized inside the tunnels, Faustus knew this must be the human world. He had never seen such a thing in Halloween, and the more he thought of it, this was the Clan of Death ... these strange illusions were probably some on-hands experience to teach them the importance and meaning of Death, in both the Halloween and human world.

Again, they were dressed in the strange Four Clans uniform, though it looked a bit different now. Instead of light, tan robes, they were each wearing dark, heavy armor. It wasn't long before they were dismissed to the battlefield, and Faustus paused among the ranks to stare to the mass of humans gathered across from him. They had strange, glowing weapons, and the longer he stared the more the boil noticed several shadowy-wisp-like figures weaving down from the darkness above. Improperly armed humans were easily picked off, carried away and slaughtered, as the more FEARsome armed ones fought back with their strange glowing weapons, actually managing to snipe a few of the Four Clan's members.

Faustus stared with a certain curiosity. Could he possibly be living the events written on the walls of the cavern deep beneath Conquest?? ... These uniforms were all the same, yet he could tell certain clans-men beside him must come from separate clans. If that was true, there must a similar place filled with ...

Faustus shivered.

Filled with an unknown amass of raw FEAR just like Conquest.

The thought sickened him, but the demon retained his composure.

{{Attacking}}

It was strange ... the longer Faustus watched, the more he realized, the clans members seemed to be aiming for the unarmed humans over the heavy artillerymen. It made sense; this was a battle, and if you would want to defeat the enemy, utilizing their weakness was probably the quickest way.

His eyes shifted, noting a rather scrawny unarmed soldier quivering in one corner. Without even thinking really, Faustus moved in, striking out with his blade. The attack was swift and clean, and the figure crumpled to the ground in a limp heap.

But ... why was he doing this?? ... it was as though something invisible, beyond his own body was controlling it. His mind was perfectly aware he had just killed a human ... in fact, he could feel the fresh FEAR from him seeping into his bones, yet something in the boil's mind still told him this was wrong ...

((Attack 1))

Indeed, Shun had many questions, but he remained silent at Medea's request. She was right. He would probably find the answers soon enough. He would be patient. As they were guided through the next door, he could hear a barrage of many different sounds from the previous one. A train had zoomed on past the lot and from that he could tell they were someplace completely different. It had a much more urban feel to it.

Hearing some snippets of conversation, the reaper turned to see a few shadowy figures, narrowing his eyes at the mention of Hunters. he wasn't really sure what the two were talking about exactly, with bargains and whatnot, but it was obvious that there were hunters approaching. That aside, he noticed that his attire had changed. He was wearing a similar uniform to the strangers around. And it seemed that he was carrying a few blades.

Furrowing his brow at this, he soon turned as a bright glowing light appeared. People were coming. And there was no doubt that these were hunters, given the weapons they wielded.Brandishing the blades he had received, he readied himself for battle. The hunters would receive no mercy. After all, they had never received any from them.

As he moved in, he noticed off to the right that one of the Clansmen were going after the weaponless ones first. It seemed strange to him at first, that the hunters would bring those without weaponry. He had never seen one without them. Perhaps it was just a ruse. Something to hopefully bring down their guard. Not too far off, he spotted one particular human looking rather afraid. Was this one of them? The battle was raging on and quite frankly there was no time to really think of it.

Without any further hesitation, he moved in and stabbed the human in the heart before twisting the blade violently. Ripping the weapon out of her, he could feel the splatter of her blood against his hand and arm. She dropped down, dead before she could even hit the ground.