Prompt Post 1
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Formating Prompts and Fills -
Subject Line (use all that apply) - [Fill]-Warnings/Info - Pairing or Main Character(s) (alphabetical), Other/Keywords, and/or Title
List of Warnings and Other Helpful Info to include (if you don't want to give warnings for story related reasons or the like than ( Read more... )
Formating Prompts and Fills -
Subject Line (use all that apply) - [Fill]-Warnings/Info - Pairing or Main Character(s) (alphabetical), Other/Keywords, and/or Title
List of Warnings and Other Helpful Info to include (if you don't want to give warnings for story related reasons or the like than ( Read more... )
Bodies litter the ground by Razer’s feet, faces that flitter in and out of recognition staring at him blankly as their life blood drains into the earth like offerings to Grotz. And like offerings to Grotz the blood will not make the barren land bloom with fertility, more’s the shame.
Ilana’s voice sweeps in on the wind, a half limp stuttering of air across the field. “Razer.”
She’s somewhere nearby, and Razer pushes through the dead bodies to get closer to her, their blood soaking into his boots and pants legs and staining them a vivid red. Everything is red.
He doesn’t know how long he goes chasing after her voice, but all at once a familiar touch graces his shoulder, and blood stained though he is he turns around, relief flooding him at the sight of her. “Ilana”
Ilana gazes up at him, bright blue eyes pinched with worry looking out from her green face. Her other hand come up looping around the back of his head, drawing him closer. Razer leans forward so that their foreheads rest against each other, his hands settling on the curve of her hips. His thumb runs back and forth over the seam where green energy meets white casing. “I’ve missed you,” she says. “You left, and I’ve missed you so much. Razer, come home. Come see me again.”
She sighs, and leans into him, resting her head against his chest, the familiar shape of her body pressing into his own. “Come see me, and we can be together again.”
Razer closes his eyes, his breath catching unevenly. “I have things I have to do, and then, and then I promise.”
She pulls back, one hand sliding up to cup his cheek. Her voice is sickly sweet, and curls in a lump in his stomach like a rotten lullaby. “There isn’t any need for more soldiers, Razer. There are enough without you. It won’t make a difference.”
His grip tightens around her, and she gasps, eyes wide in startled pain. He stumbles back, horrified. Everywhere his hands have touched is smeared with blood, and she reaches down to hold her stomach feebly trying to contain a gushing wound slashed across it. The blood thickens, congealing into a solid form around her waist that burns with hate. It wraps around her completely, and a long rope of the red energy erupts from the back. With a great lurch the rope is reeled in, and she is pulled into the sky her white and green casing transforming into the fluttering grays and blacks of traditional garb, her facial markings etching themselves on her suddenly pale face.
“Razer!” She reaches for him desperately, but he’s to far away, to slow, to weak to reach her in time.
He runs after her, stumbling and stepping over and on the various bodies still littering the ground, heedless of any sort of the blood that continues to soak his clothes and stain his skin with every bit of contact. “Ilana!” The body count around him rises, and there’s no longer any ground beneath his feet, just dead shifting flesh.
A deep purr cracks through the air and hits hit, vibrating along his spine. “Razer. How good of you to join us.”
He can’t breathe.
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Atrocitus stands atop a mound of bodies, right arm extended in front of him to hold Ilana at arms length, her head gripped tightly in his hand, claws tearing through her headcloth and biting into her skin, revealing tuffs of black hair that are quickly matting with blood.
“What’s wrong, child. Missing your little farm girl? Perhaps I should give part of her back to you.” He reaches over, grabs her arm at the elbow, and pulls it with a twist.
A snap echoes through the air, drowning out the sound of screams, for Razer or from Ilana or from both he doesn’t know, and flesh and tendons stretch between the torn cloth and skin of her upper arm before it too is torn away leaving only a bleeding stump and the white glimpse of shattered bone shards.
Atrocitus takes her severed arm, and tosses it casually at Razer’s feet. It rolls and flops over itself, and lands with the hand spread out and facing him as though reaching for help even now.
“Which one should I do next, do you think? Perhaps a leg?”
Everything is red, and Razer can’t breathe, can’t move from the spot he is standing in, struck.
“Razer,” Ilana say. “Razer, I require assistance.”
“No, no, you’re right. Balance things out first.” Atrocitus reaches over, and grabs her just underneath her shoulder. This time the bone pops out of the socket first, and he pulls it strains at an unnatural angle, a strange and hollow dip forming where the bones no longer meet before he twists the arm viciously about tearing through the flesh. He stops before the last bit is torn off, and drops the limb so that it hangs vacant at her side, rotating in little half circles back and forth with every movement of her body.
Ilana’s face is emotionless in Atrocitus’s grasp, trails of blood leaking down now from where her hair, following her facial markings and the contours of her face. “Please, Razer. I require your assistance.”
Ilana’s arm falls with a dull thud, gravity finishing off the last connective tissues that Atrocitus had left behind.
Everything is red.
With a great shaking breath Razer lunges forward -
And sits up on the cot in his room aboard the Interceptor the power of his energy ring thick around him, and a scream caught in his throat.
Shaking, Razer turns and plants his feet solidly on the floor. He puts his head in his hands and takes measured, calming breaths.
Minutes pass with no change, and Razer rises to ready himself for the day ahead. Thankfully the device he created is working as planned, transmitting standard readings instead of the racing breath and elevated heartbeat of his nightmare.
The last thing he needs right now is Aya coming to check on him.
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