The Investigator

I will be updating this, at the very least, 2-3 times a week.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Krimsin: Father

“You.” Eyes narrowed on the man as lips twitched in annoyance and anger, nostrils flaring under the hood of a robe. “Why would you do all of this? What would possess you?”

“Ah, my dear friend, I gave you ample opportunity. You know that I don't like when people walk away while the game is still in progress.” His tongue slowly rolled over his upper lip as he paced in front of Greenstar, enjoying the moment. The fear was almost tangible on the man's face, even if he did try to hide it well with unbridled fury. He could almost smell the anger mingling so beautifully with the pain and suffering. Agony. “I am giving you one last opportunity, of course. I've always played fair.”

“This isn't fair!” the druid barked in return.

“Life isn't fair!” The Investigator growled as his body snapped into a rigid stance staring down the druid who appeared to hold his ground where he stood. So far neither have drawn a weapon or even lunged at the other. They continued to circle each other like two boxers in a ring. Each step caused the other to follow in turn, keeping them always at equal distance. The clearing held them in a perfectly rotund arena: walls of trees and other various flora and the only spectators being that of the animals of the forest. “I wont be sorry if I need to kill you, Greenstar. You have shown yourself to be a worthy adversary and I've been supping knowledge for a few years now. Yours will be sweet and well enjoyed, that I promise.”

“Just,” a breath, a pause, and finally resignation. The druid slumped visibly, his hands falling to his sides where he held them, palm up. “Just release her, please.” His head fell as the feeling washed over him. It was finished and his surrender wouldn't even guarantee him his final goal. For some reason, he just knew that.

“Love.” The Investigator spoke the word with such poison that he near spat. “You are the second I have seen to fall asunder because of such a disease. You truly are weak, Greenstar.” That caused an anger to rage deep in the other. An anger so strong that everything finally was set into motion, exactly as expected. He needed that anger, needed that strength. Love always caused something so strong to churn inside others that it could easily be seen and equal to a sword and even sharper in its double edges. But Greenstar didn't draw love from a scabbard hidden in his robes, and neither did he.

It became pure bloody chaotic hell within moments of the weapons being drawn. The power of love was perhaps what made him so unpredictable, but either way the battle did not begin as The Investigator had expected. It was either the power of love or the knowledge that Greenstar's life depended on his actions. The Investigator managed to dodge just in time, barely missing a blade that was being swung haphazardly in his direction. The silence of battle, at that point, was broken as the druid clenched his one sole possession closer to his form and, with a great heaving of his chest, let out a whooping war cry of anger and anguish in his foreign tongue. The Investigator knew not what the words meant, nor did he terribly care. He only knew that blood will be spilled on this day in this arena they had chosen for their meeting.

“You beast!” the druid cried, this time in a language The Investigator could understand. “You slaughtered my daughters!” Another cry came as the blade came down fast and hard to the right before a shattering sound of metal hitting metal grated through both of them, trickling from their blades and up to their arms demanding them to release the hold. Each took a step back and began to circle each other in a dance that The Investigator delighted in. It was a game he knew well and a game that he has yet to lose.

“Krimsin made me a lovely pair of boots,” he mentioned off-handedly with a trickling of a laugh sputtering past his lips. He watched the change on the druid's face. “I really was quite smitten with her. A beautiful creature, really. And I am proud to still keep her forever close to me even now.” If he weren't fighting for his life the druid would have fallen to his knees and allowed himself to collapse into a pitiful mound of weeping right then and there. It caused a delightful shiver to tremble through The Investigator to see such misery and torment running through the eyes of the druid. The feeling was pure euphoria for him as he seemed not only to enjoy watching the emotional pain, but he seemed to dine on it and the flavor was immense. His palette was perfectly matched for such refined tastes. Eyes closing, his head tilting back as a purr seemed to slip down his throat as the druid anguished over what was just revealed to him.

They circled each other again, both with a heaving chest but for two different reasons. The game would be over soon enough, but it was the playing of the game that gave The Investigator the most joy. Rushing at him in a blind fury, the druid raced forward and managed only a light scratch across the upper arm before The Investigator stepped to the side, his eyes rolling back in his head as he sucked in air through his teeth. The feeling was heavenly, the metal slicing so cleanly through his flesh just enough to cause a wet warmth to begin to slip over his bicep soaking into his beautifully impeccable clothing.

“Yes. That's right. Let the rage take you. You were an innocent victim in all of this. An innocent. Let the chaos take you, oh sinless one. Let the rage consume you.” The dark of the inner forest was starting to try and seep in around them, pulsating as if alive. Taking a single step back, he slowly drew his sword over his upper arm not once, but twice, coating the blade in his own life fluid as well as deepening the wound. Finally their eyes locked and they both knew that this was the end. This dance has gone on long enough, and although the ballet was beautiful, it was time to come to grips with mortality.

Bending his head downward, The Investigator started a low moan that could easily be mistaken for a war cry of his own. Astounded, all Greenstar could do was watch as bulges slowly appeared on the other man's back. Bulges that began to quiver and quake and cause the moan to grow deeper in his throat, his breathing becoming ragged. Impetuously the jacket he wore tore at the seams as the sword clattered from his hands and the moan became and all out scream. There was no pain in the scream, though, but more a scream in that caused a stabbing icy fear to penetrate deep into the druid's heart. Wings exploded through The Investigator's back as his hands reached into his hair, gripping fistfuls at a time as chunks of flesh flew through the air only to find their mark upon the trees or to disappear into the mulch on the ground. Strings of blood seemed to whip through the air before they calmed and only trickled down what flesh remained, the exposed muscle underneath quivering as a shudder of pleasure poured through the man as he rose. Shreds of what remained of the perfectly kept attire fell off his shoulders, pooling about his waist and wrists as his arms dropped away from his head, an insane look deep in the golden eyes; So insane it was calming. He released the rags from his wrists and let what could fall from his form while the rest dangled about his hips. The wings, sticky with gleaming crimson, flexed slowly before a deep breath was taken in, filling his lungs, expanding his chest and being released with a lust filled purring moan.

The look of fear on the druid was, in itself, terrifying. Not to The Investigator, of course, but any average man would have been terrified to see the fear that crept into play over the face of Greenstar behind the hood that tried to keep his face shadowed from the light. He stood there, rooted to the ground, rigid and unable to move as a Cheshire smile slowly formed upon The Investigator's face. Slowly, dangerously slow like a magician daring someone to find the flaw in their trick, he reached upwards and with merely a finger and thumb, he drew his hand back downwards creating a beam of light in the singular line he drew. The light at first was so bright it hurt the druid's eyes before it grew dimmer and dimmer. Soon, it was obvious that the light was nothing more than a metal forged into a needle thin sword of some type, so light that he could hold it in such a manner. Even though he had never seen it before, he knew it instantly and the fear vanished.

“You, you used that on my daughters.” A simple nod was all he received as an answer before both rushed equally at each other. Metal pierced through flesh on both counts, but only one was fatal. Dropping to the ground with the blade buried up to the hilt in the throat, blood gurgled like a small bubbling brook from the jugular vein and frothed upon the quivering lips as the body finished its last few death throes. Placing a foot upon the druid's head, The Investigator freed his blade before twirling it lightly in the air causing it to dissipate before his very eyes. The rush of new spread through him, giving him the strength to free the blade that had been left penetrating through his viscera, threatening to disembowel him. But no, tonight was not the night. He laid his hands upon the wound of his abdomen and closed his eyes. A gentle warmth came from his fingertips and, although not healed, at least the wound was closed.

“I always play fair, druid.” With a snap of his fingers, he allowed his eyes to close. Somewhere a connection was lost and he was blind to the happenings of that area. But another connection was created, this one much more permanent. “You failed to play the game my way, but I allow you a small victory, even so.” Balance. It was all about balance. If you give, you take. If you take, you give. He believed in balance more than anyone could ever understand. He also desired to disrupt that balance in a way no one could ever comprehend.