A Shattered Sun
Pain. That is all I feel right now. I feel nothing but a pain, that is not only restricted to the physical agony, and torture that I feel presently, but also a deep psychological rending that originates from the scene that can be clearly seen around me.
I open my eyes, their colors slowly fading from the smoldering incarnadine like color that they were mere seconds ago, into the softer lilac coloring that they are usually hued when I am not angry. I look straight up into the sky, and see a tranquil scene play out above me. It is a beautiful day, next to no clouds in the sky, the sun shining down on me, warming me with its invisible rays of heat. I look slightly to my right, and see a white, fluffy looking cloud slowly making its way across my vision, reminding me of a marshmallow because of the way it is roughly shaped.
I am torn away from this calming sight by the gentle sound of something to my left. Something so similar to the breeze, but a sound that I know very well to be something other than the gentle gusts of air that cool my body currently. I slowly crane my neck to my left side, grimacing and cursing silently under my breath at the pain I can feel originating at my spine, between my shoulder blades; said pain creeping was its way up the base of my neck, to the back of my pounding head.
I am greeted by the sight of a large clearing in a forest, the grass in the section of the clearing that is now visible to me trampled, as if something large and heavy had trodden upon it recently. There were also chunks of the ground that were uprooted, and propelled various distances from their original placing, some lightly smoking, and looking singed. Almost as if a great force of fire had taken them from their rightful places among the grass, and thrown them aside carelessly, not thinking of the effects of its actions. Deep gouges in the ground also obvious to anyone who would gaze upon them, as if something lengthy and slender had edged its way through the earth, effectively scoring it, and left its mark on the ground itself time and time again, in various differing locations around the clearing. Emerald topped trees are evident to me, lining the far side of this clearing of the forest that I have found myself dwelling throughout this fine day. However, none of these sights matter to me. My eyes glided straight past all of these sights negligibly, in search of the source of this nearly natural sound that I know all too well.
Sliding smoothly past these no longer relevant sights, my eyes search the ground around me, locking onto the source of this sound that is so deceivingly similar to a breeze, yet still just slightly different enough for those who hear it often to tell the difference. To my left side, nearly fifteen feet away, lies a dark shape, on the ground, slowly eroding and being carried away by the wind; this mass, forming a short, stocky shape of something similar to an animal, with four legs, a tail, and a snout. The creature stained a color of black, shades darker than the darkest of midnights. It bears disk-like, off-white colored bones that are protruding from its body that sprouted forth along its back, sides, and legs forming together to make a sort of armor plating to protect the vile creature, that is lacking along its underbelly. It has long, blunt tusks curling up out of its head in front of it, curving outwards and upwards at first, and then curls back towards its own dark form, coming to two, razor sharp points just below the apex of the beast's form. Upon its head, it has formed another mass of thicker, stronger bone into something that can best be described as a mask. Holes are evident in the "Mask" for the creature's four eyes: two being side by side, with another set positioned slightly above the first, all four pupil less looking glasses are tinted a flame like, dark orange color that clashes heavily with the rest of its black and white form, giving it an even more ominous, and foreboding kind of look to its features. Upon this "Mask" that encases the head and snout of this vile creature of Grimm, there are a series of fine, intricate markings intertwining throughout the surface of the "Mask", looking as if something had carefully chipped apart small sections of the "Mask" no more than fractions of an inch deep, all around its head that eventually snaked their way down and throughout the creatures tusks and fangs that protrude from the creatures jaw. These fangs jutting down from the creatures head, measuring, at the least, half a foot in length, each coming to a razor sharp point below it's currently dripping maw.
The small droplets of drool-like liquid stained the same blacker than night hue of the majority of its body, slowly, and individually hit the ground. On contact with the earth, they instantaneously evaporate into small, dark, dense clouds of black fog which slowly disperse, spreading father and farther apart, as they rise into the sky, until they can no longer be seen. The markings are stained a deep red color, making it look almost like the creature bit into something living, and sucked the lifeblood from it. Then proceeded to use the same life giving substance to stain it's monstrously intricate visage, the nearly burgundy color that it is dyed currently. Two markings on the creature's visage standing solitary from the remainder of the similar markings, forming into a shape that can most easily be described as an open eye, and pupil, stained the same dark red as the rest of the markings. This is what I know this horrific creature to look like, though you could not see these features on this particular Grimm. Because there is a gaping hole in its head, roughly the size of a softball.
These features are now rendered irrelevant, because of one fact: this Boarbatusk was dying, evident by the fact that it is disintegrating right in front of my eyes. It's solid, dark mass slowly eroding away, to be carried away by the occasional breeze flowing through the clearing. The sight is similar to a large, black as night, mass of rose petals stirring from the corpse and being carried away with the wind, but I know better. It may look like it is gone, now that the corpse has fully disintegrated, and the petal like bits of mass are gone from my sight, slowly evaporating into seemingly nothingness, but I know that it is not gone; quite contrary to that fact. The now scattered matter from this eviscerated beast will eventually be utilized again, formed together to create another creature of Grimm. Made to come forth from whatever god forsaken hellhole they could possibly be made within, and cut loose to torment, destroy, and slaughter any and all humans in its path, with no discrimination, or remorse for its actions.
The sight of this now long gone creature of Grimm piques something in the back of my mind. I suddenly remember why my right arm is in such insufferable agony as of now. This somewhat brings my thoughts of out the clinging fog that has become of my mind, and I take inventory of the injuries that torture me now, in their agonizing grasp. My left leg bones, below the knee, have somehow been snapped into several pieces. From the point of the breaks down, the rest of my leg is turned an unnatural 90 degrees to my left. The sharp, jagged edge of one, previously connected end now protruding from my ripped open skin, and is exposed to the sharp, coppery atmosphere of the clearing I find myself in currently. There is a long gash, running along my abdomen, its length spanning from the top of my pelvic bone, on the left side of my body, up, and along my torso to the right, until it stops just below the center of my rib cage. The cut running shallow at the beginning, and end of its course, but nearly three inches in depth at the deepest part of itself, and at that same location, measures several inches in length, parallel to its own direction. This injury being the main perpetrator behind the reason that I now lie here, marinating in a considerable amount of my own blood as it currently soaks the grass, and earth around me. Saying that my right arm is broken would be the biggest understatement ever... Of all time. What's left of the bones, that I can feel, have been crushed, pulverized, and nearly ground into non-existence. Not counting the numerous, cuts, bruises, and burns that now litter my body, I have one more outstanding injury. There is blood currently seeping from a wound on my forehead.
If I recall correctly, I was struck there by something with a very great amount of force. Thus resulting in not only the pain, swimming vision, and seemingly foggy, uncooperative mind I now suffer from, and cannot rid myself of. But also splitting the skin open wide, allowing a large amount of my life blood to pour out. This now beginning to slowly make its way down the right side of my face, causing a sudden burning sensation in my right eye before I instinctually close it, to prevent any further harm to my gelatinous organ.
A thought occurs to me. I am bleeding somewhat profusely from my numerous wounds. The air I breathe in now from the atmosphere around me is very heavily coated with the scent of copper, and is starting to choke me, rather than fuel my exhausted, ravaged body. The creatures of Grimm leave behind no trace, whatsoever of their existence once they fade away. No kind of sight or scent in any way shape or form. There is no way that the amount of blood I have lost could stain the air this horridly with its choking scent. I suddenly feel as if I have been struck in the gut, making the previously arduous labor that was breathing through this smog, nearly impossible. Having had the wind taken from me because of a realization that makes me wish all of this was some sick, twisted nightmare. That had possibly been spawned from the very depths of hell itself, thought up, and sent to my mind to plague me, by some soul reaping demon, or possibly, even by the devil himself. It would be easier to accept that theory than what I currently fear I would find, should I turn, and look the other direction.
I slowly roll my head along the ground to my right, being painfully reminded of the injury to my spine. While turning my head, I find myself brushing several errant strands of hair out of the way of my currently, only unobstructed eye, using my relatively intact left arm. Hair that just minutes ago, had been a smoldering, iridescent, golden, flame like color, which now, has begun to slowly fade, and return to its usual honey like color. I usually take the utmost of care whenever I deal with it. It being, in my opinion, one of the largest factors that attribute to my stunningly good look only added to the fact that it is also tied to my fighting prowess. Not many know this, but I can use it as a conduit to channel my aura through, similar to my beloved weapon, Ember Celica. I use this greater area that I am able to focus my aura into, to strengthen my natural abilities: the longer my hair is, the amount of aura I can summon, and project at once is increased. Thusly, the amount I can focus into a strike is amplified vastly. When I am required to during a fight, I can use this ability to put a devastating amount of force behind every punch, kick, and projectile I fling towards my enemies, enhancing every blow with the power of my very soul. Though now some portions of my glorious mane are now matted together, and dyed a dark red from the blood I have shed from my multiple wounds. I no longer care about any of this, and grasp the strands that now block my view in my uninjured hand. I then proceed to rip them out of my head, thus clearing my line of sight.
Through the view of my one, now unobstructed eye, I see something that makes me feel as if I've just had my entrails ripped from my body, and my heart leap into my throat. I see more decimation of the clearing, very similar to the side I was facing beforehand. It is a near replica, with the exception of one thing. There is a mass of red fabric, portions of it being a bright crimson color, having splotches of a darker, maroon like red color staining the cloak in differing spots. There are sections that are sliced open, leaving gashes that look like they were cut with a razor sharp knife. Other areas are burned clean through, leaving holes in the material, and singed, still slightly smoking edges around the sites of the burns. I can see a small portion of her face that isn't covered by the cloak. The tip of her nose, her forehead, the ends of her black hairs, which she has dyed a bright crimson color to match her beloved cloak. And her lips too, which are now slack, and ajar. On the ground, around the eerily still figure, is the ground of the clearing. There is a slight, crater like indentation in the ground that is roughly shaped to her form. The grass around her stained a dark burgundy color. Slung a few feet from her still form, I can see her beloved hybrid sniper-scythe, Crescent Rose. It currently lies on the ground, in its fully extended form, though it shows signs of battle damage as well. There are a multitude of scuffs, scratches, and dents running the length of the weapon that is "overkill incarnate", as I have deemed it. The scope, I can see, has been crushed, and the lens' shattered and rendered useless.
One more thing makes itself evident to me. Along the blade of Crescent Rose, near the tip of the long edge, where the mecha-shift pivot point is for the end of the blade is now warped, and half gone. I see it, along with the rest of the blade embedded in the ground, close to the rest of the weapon. I take in all this information, and by some miracle, am able to form a coherent though. The girl that I love most in the world is no greater than twenty yards away from me. From the look of her, she has sustained several very, very serious injuries, evident by the amount of blood that coats the earth around her, and I am too far away to determine whether or not she is still breathing.
I must get to her. That is the one and only thought that is currently singed into my mind. I roll my body over to my right, going from lying on my back, to lying on my stomach in a prone position. I begin attempting to drag myself to her, using my limbs that have yet to be eviscerated.
I need to get to her... I have dragged myself a few feet.
I have to get to her... I have dragged myself several yards now.
I must save her... My movement slowly comes grinding to a halt. I do my very utmost best to push through the pain that I now feel, which I do not believe can be explained with words. I feel several cuts on the left side of my face begin to sting, and burn sharply, and realize that I am now crying out of my unobscured eye. Despite my best efforts, I find that I have stopped crawling after going no more than ten feet.
I HAVE to save her! This is the only thought in my mind. It causes me to continue pushing myself, despite the fact that I am already leagues past my threshold. I only get a few more feet, before I am no longer able to drag myself any further. The agonizing pain of my injuries takes hold of me, and my world begins to fade from the outward edges in. My vision slowly constricting until it is nothing but a darkness that rivals the void itself. I can now only see through a small point in the middle of my vision, no bigger than a quarter, which is focused on Ruby's face.
"Ruby..." I utter her name, and reach my only functioning arm out, in an attempt to reach her. My vision slowly resumes it's constriction from the outwards in. The size of the area I can now see from being no bigger that the head of a pin. Before I can attempt to shake the darkness from my vision, or drag myself closer to her ominously still form, I feel the remainder of my strength leave me, and I begin to go limp, my arm falling to the forest floor. My exhausted, battered, and broken body was no longer able to hold the weight of my head above the ground. My face hits the earth, my mind going blank. The pain was slowly ebbing away; slowly, bit by bit, as I lose all connections to this world…Except one thing; the sight of my baby sister, broken, lying in a shallow pool of her own blood. I can do nothing to save her. Everything goes dark. I can no longer think. I can no longer see. I can no longer feel anything. One final thought slowly fades from my mind, that being that the sole remaining purpose of my life, my baby sister, is now nothing but a still, most likely dead remainder of what used to be a human being. As this one final morbid thought slips out of my consciousness, I am embraced by a lightless, heart rending, soul crushing emptiness.
Author's Note: Here is the first chapter of my first story that I've ever written. This story will go on for several more chapters, a currently undefined amount. This being because I will go until I get to a point where I think i can end it. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I have one request of all that read through this, being that you leave a review for me, giving me your opinion of the first chapter. What you thought was good, what you thought was bad, and why. I don't by any means consider myself a skilled writer, and even if I did, I know that you can always improve, no matter what you're doing. So please, help me improve in this new hobby of mine, so that I may, in turn, improve this hopefully worth wile story.
Credit goes to another author on this site, pen name Barzu, for editing this clunky beast and making it much more readable.
-Thunder