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( Attacking )

Oura stayed close to the group of Horsemen warriors, glancing over his shoulder frequently. If he couldn't be of any physical use, he could at least keep a lookout. They moved silently along the tunnels, following a glowing light that could only be more humans... it was coming from an alcove up ahead. After a few seconds, the Horsemen and Ouranos entered the space. It was wider and higher than the typical tunnels, like an in-between room... apparently, the humans had been using it to take a quick breather. But now they noticed the new arrivals; the humans swiftly raised their weapons, their faces determined. There would be bloodshed here.

Without warning, before Oura's group even made a move, black figures dropped from the ceiling onto the humans. There were screams and the sounds of metal clanging as the battle began before them. The boil looked from side to side, surprised; the humans had been so focused on his group that they hadn't noticed the Horsemen above them. Had this been part of the plan?

By the cool, composed behavior of his Horsemen group, it certainly seemed to be. They drew their weapons with hesitation, and raced into the fray to help their allies. Ouranos had no choice but to follow, steeling his nerves as he pulled out the dagger. He had killed before in the warzone, and though it was strongly against his wishes... and he would do it again, if needed.

The boil ducked to a side as bodies plummeted to the ground before him; they were both weaponless humans and Four Clans fighters alike. The humans with the glowing weapons were faring much better against the Horsemen. But both sides seemed to be taking heavy casualties... Ouranos had to help. He had to do something!

Drifting quickly through the fray, the boil targeted a weaponless human-- silently, he drew his dagger, drawing blood and started shrieks. That was before a nearby group of humans fell upon him, their weapons raised and menacing; Ouranos retreated, wincing and staggering as slashes rained down upon him. Was this all really a dream? The pain was vivid and real. He crouched in the shadows as the battle raged, nursing his injuries.

[Attacking! - Round 1]

The room was decorative; the white statues were crafted of impeccable taste wrapped as if with gentle care with green and white foliage. Even the sky was the perfect hue of blue with the soft twinkling noise of the fountain lulling it’s view into serenity. Even Joachim felt at peace, wishing the voice that had stopped its singing would simple continue. Instead it spoke, telling him to rest to sleep.

And so he did.

When he awoke he found himself back in the room with the doors, this time the second one open with a much different scene appearing from the firs time. Instead of the open battlefield it was some sort of room that contained a train that seemed to screech past them and into the darkness. A grim look appeared on the reaper’s face this place was unsettling the walls were dirty covered in various colors that he assumed were suppose to be some form of art but lacked considerable skill.

He wanted out to leave and paid little to no attention the argument between the figures until the words leave no survivors was spoken. Snapping back to attention Joachim realized that he was dressed in a uniform, it was similar to the ones of the warriors around him, in fact they seemed to all shuffle them into formation as if they were nothing more than a part of their larger entity.
He watched in earnest waiting to see who their opponent was, expecting it to be the same class of humans that it had been in previous battle.

However, when they appeared, no when they and their weapons appeared they were not the same humans. They were like the humans… the ones from the trial. Willow had called them hunters, horrible humans who easily twisted and disposed of him in a dream.

Joachim wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his blade his knuckles going white. Tell them nothing, that is what he told his friends to do wasn’t it before they electrocuted him.

He couldn’t tell who made the first move but the sounds of battle started to fill his ears, shrieks of various kinds could be heard as the air started to smell heavily of death and filled with Fear. One human was cornered quickly as the Flour Clans soldiers mercilessly attacked the human shrieking in pain with each wound. The fear of the dying human called to him, the bitter resentment of the trials still lingering as Joachim leapt in without a second thought. He had to make them bleed.

((WATCHING: 82))

The place behind the second door was comfortingly dark, but noisy and reeking and strange, like some of the places in the cities that she had been hustled quickly away from as a child, decaying, but not in the elegant way a proper home was supposed to be decaying. Dirt, a sharp sour smell, something else that smelled like old, untended rot.

Siddie realized that once again, she was dressed in something other than her own clothes. It was a uniform this time, the same uniform that the Clansfolk were wearing. She held small blades in her hands. She wasn't sure if she wanted to use them. Behind the previous door, her kills had only gotten her killed in return.

She stayed quiet and listened. Eliminating Hunters? Leave no survivors? This wasn't like the previous battle. She'd seen Hunters face to face, felt the awful draining sensation of her Fear being sucked away by the weapons they used. The weapons that had once been people like her and her friends. No. No, she would fight. She wasn't going to let her fear cripple her.

She followed the lead of the Four Clans warriors, fading back into the shadows as she heard footsteps approaching. When the human figures came into sight, she was surprised by how few of them there were; all wore the familiar white coats, but not all of them carried the glowing weapons Siddie was too familiar with, even after a single personal encounter.

The Horsemen dropped onto the Hunters, silently at first, and then the screams and yells and cries began. It was barely a fight at all; rather, it was a slaughter. Somewhat to Siddie's surprise, she could feel Fear rolling off the dying humans in curls and waves. She hung back at first, watching, realizing that she'd never before tasted human Fear from a Hunter. Why? And why now?

A gurgling sound caught her attention. A human lay nearby, abandoned by its companions, thrown aside by the horseman whose blades had slashed a new deep-red mouth into its throat. It was still alive, somehow. Siddie approached and crouched down beside it, stretching her hand out to touch her fingertips to the raw open flesh, watching the pool of blood that spread slowly beneath its dying body. Its eyes moved, flickering in search of the featherlight touch it had felt. Siddie couldn't tell if the human saw her, a shadow herself, clothed in black. It was dying in pain and terror, so slowly but so easily.

Thoughtfully, she lifted her hand to her mouth, tasting the blood smeared across the pads of her fingers. Without their awful weapons, Hunters were just humans. Humans were so soft. So fragile. Siddie licked at her fingers and watched the life go out of the human's eyes, leaving the dead flesh inert and dull.

How very strange.

She needed to move away from the body and get to somewhere safe, so she did. Chuppi moved away and pressed herself to the shadows, her small yet bulky frame harder to conceal than she thought in the narrow confines of the tunnel.

At least she did not hear the groans anymore.

[ forgot to roll, apologies! ]

[ 25 - watching ]

It was almost over now, all the cries and groaning of the dying humans tapering off as there were less and less to kill. Their weapons either vanished when they died or turned into stone tablets, weird objects that left Chuppi curious, but she didn't move from her spot as she witnessed the events. She was not a fighter, she was not a killer. She had slaughtered that man before but it was to place him from his misery - if one had said she just killed for the sake of it then she would really argue. Words would be wasted since it was action that always spoke the loudest.

That being said the killings were drawing to a close, or perhaps her time here was done and her body knew it, and the monster moved in the shadows to witness everything. It was a horrible thought that, in spite of herself, her lips were twitching in a smile at the FEAR she could taste with the deaths that were coming. She had been too afraid before to notice when she killed the man but now, now that she was watching, Chuppi could feel it and it set her blood rolling. Had she enjoyed FEAR this much before? It was hard to tell, hard to think of on such sudden command notice, and she shook her head in an effort to clear her thoughts.

Enjoyment of the killings was one thing, the like of their FEAR at their deaths was another. She had to tell herself these things, had to make it all seem okay. She was a monster of paranoia and denial, for certain, and the chupacabra watched and waited in the shadows for whatever came next.