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DarkHeartedSorrows rolled 1 100-sided dice:
3
Total: 3 (1-100)
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 Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2012 10:23 am
Holy hell.
Lyanna's eyes widened and fear made her heart sputter. Hunters were getting mowed down like weeds. These weren't your usual deathwhere one or two comrades fell because of stupid mistakes or tactical disadvantages. They were just getting slaughtered. Her lungs constricted and she struggled to breathe as panic set in. Everyone was going to die here.
She struggled with the dagger in her hand, her fingers trembling as she fought to focus. They head a mission to accomplish here; she couldn't afford to let panic overtake her. Swallowing hard she kept moving and and as soon as she found an opportunity to pause she dropped her her belly and tried to slam the dagger into the ground. He hands shook to hard and the dagger skidded off the surface and she cried out. No! They had a mission.
Rancid breath showered around her in the heat of someone breathing down her neck. She convulsed, her stomach protesting the horrible stench, but managed to turn just to see yellowed teeth part to reveal the dark depths of a huge mouth. Teeth scraped against the ground and then she was gone without a trace.
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2012 7:35 pm
And just like that, Warren Victors was alone.
Perhaps the cold, withered fingers felt familiar now as they curled around the Hunter's arm, pulling him into a tight embrace. She smelt of rot and decay, of earth and flesh, of all the bodies she had fed on, and all the ones she had preyed on for centuries.
"Shhh..." Her voice was soft and putrid at the same time as she ran one hand through Warren's hair, chiseled nails raking his scalp. "Shhh... you don't have to go yet. You can stay here with us." There was a strange, steady splattering noise. Blood dribbling out from her rib cage, her "stomach", with every movement she took.
She tilted his chin upwards so that he was forced to gaze at her visage, her pale skin, tanned hair, yellow eyes. The Horsemen of Famine really was not bad looking by any means. "You can stay with us, you can be our new pet. If you come with us, we will free you from everything."
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2012 8:07 pm
All he could see was red.
Red and black, seeping into his shoes, his clothes, his coat, his skin, his vision...
His soul.
Warden Victors knelt, feeling as though he were on the precipice of death - and he knew he was, knew it was within the last several moments of his fragile life, the life he had dedicated to only two things - being a Hunter and the woman who's body now lay strewn in pieces around his feet, along with the rest of the creature's victims.
They were all dead. No survivors.
They had failed their mission.
It was all over.
The stench of copper was thick in his nostrils, Warden inhaling it into his lungs without wanting to. He did not want to breathe, did not want to think, did not want to exist.
He was alone.
-- Warden. -- came Tee's voice, small and unbearably fragile sounding in his head, but he didn't respond - not that he even would have had a chance, since he felt cold, spine-tingling fingers brush against his skin before they wrapped around his upper arm in a vice-like grip. And just like that he was standing again, wrapped in the embrace of the monster who had killed - slaughtered - his life and the lives of everyone around him.
She smelled of death.
He could feel the blood from the gaping mouth at her stomach seeping into his torso, staining his skin red beneath the cloth. Her voice was grated, soft and nauseating, and Warden felt the bile rising in his throat.
Her fingers touched his chin, forced his gaze to hers, and he stared into the wide, crazed golden eyes, the dangerous, horrific beauty.
"You can stay with us, you can be our new pet."
He did not know what that meant, Warden's chest feeling so tight it was difficult to draw breath.
-- Don't do it. --
Her voice was soft, almost pleading, though with a fierce determination that seared into his mind like a gunshot.
What do I have to lose?
-- Everything. --
I've already lost that.
-- They'll kill you. --
I'm dead already.
-- Warden. Don't. Please, I am begging you- --
Whether or not he could hear her was unknown. Warden kept his eyes fixated on the creature's, his fingers gripping the sai swords in his hands. the metal clinking against his leg in an almost rhythmic gesture.
He spun the small sword around.
Then thrust it upwards, in the direction of her stomach. Whether or not it actually made contact was another story, and whether or not it was an actual attack or the surrendering of his weapon was lost within the shadows of the night.
"Go ahead," Warden hissed, with what was most likely the last breath he would ever take.
"Take me."
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2012 9:14 pm
"A new pet!" Her shrill cackle rose above the rain, the noise, the car horns, party whistles and voices of the pathetic humans lingering nearby.
Her wings rustled as she wrapped them protectively over him, tilting his chin upwards with one finger. "Quiet now, quiet, it will be all over." Famine grinned mischievously as she leaned closer, it was too bad regular humans could not see them, the two of them could have even been lovers.
And as the Horsemen of Famine's lips touched Warren's, the Hunter would feel his body turn numb, his heart cold, and finally his mind still.
Warren Victors had been entirely petrified, a sandstone statue of what he once was. His weapon, once gleaming proudly, clattered to the ground, a still stone tablet.
"Beautiful." Famine admired her work, pulling away from the kiss gently, gently now, she didn't want to hurt her handiwork. They were all beautiful, the ones she chose last, the ones she saved as a trophy. They were all silent and beautiful, like little pets, quieter even, reminding her permanently of her each and every achievement.
She would let her clans folk take it away after she was done. But where were they? What was taking them so long? Oh, she knew she should have had one more snack... Kuromeez Warren Victors is dead, you may now go post his death solo.
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Dragain rolled 1 100-sided dice:
75
Total: 75 (1-100)
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2012 5:11 am
Around her, she could hear the screams of agony from her fellow hunters; there were those she knew by name, and those she knew only by their face, having seen them around the island whenever she was not out on a mission. None of these people she knew personally - perhaps that was the most successful mission she had ever gone on... Her personal mission to stay detached.
As bloodied corpses fell around her and moist, warm parts rained down on her from above, it got harder and harder to concentrate on the task at hand. The smell of blood and gore made her stomach churn, the sight of disemboweled bodies caused her legs to turn into jelly; this wasn't a war anymore. Maybe it never was - this was all just some sick game to the enemy... The blood on her clothing - the coat and scarf she was so proud to receive during her initiation - did not belong to her. There were more dead than live men-
Perhaps that was why she didn't bother to scream when she felt something lift her into the air.
Perhaps that was why, instead of trying to fight back, she released her grip on her runic daggers, letting them fall to the ground with a noisy clatter... Although the sound was drowned out in the cries of anguish that filled the air.
Perhaps that was why, while her heart was racing a mile a minute, she didn't feel fear. In fact, she felt nothing but a sense of calmness - it was that feeling you get right before you drift off to sleep.
She had nobody to cry for. She had nobody to cry for her.
Just like she wanted, right...?
And then, just like that feeling you get when someone calls your name right before you could drift off to bed, she gasped loudly, jolting awake as pain exploded at her side. A quick glance confirmed that Famine had torn her arm right off, and all that she could see was a bloody stump and the grin on her face... ...
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