A/N: Just recently I received this review:
"You know, I bet writing all of those transformer stories
really alienates the AVP audience you've managed to create here. I
wonder, in all honesty, can you say you are being very respectful of
the fans you already have, by churning out transformer one-shot after
one-shot, without even a measly apology for the appalling negligence
to the people who are just left wondering why they were suddenly
dropped.
When you re-kindle your interest in this series (and you
will), I wouldn't be surprised if no one cares to read your stories
anymore."
Whoever he or she is (there was no name) I must say you are right. I have greatly neglected my AvP fan base, but since Fan Fiction isn't keen on letting authors blog on their site I never did extend an apology to you guys. And that was just wrong of me.
SO here it is:
To my AvP fans I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your reading and genuine concern for the continuing of my fics. My reasoning for not being faithful to them is I just don't have the spark for AvP that I used to. Sad as it is, after watching AvP: Requiem my obsession faltered. I don't know why but that movie just hurt my obsession and so my new love extended to Transformers.
Honestly, I still love Predators and I always will, but my brain just hasn't wanted to write about them so much anymore. (God…that's just sad to even write!) I just can't write if I'm not inspired, my writing goes to absolute crap if I write unmotivated and it's as painful as writing an essay. Writing for me is fun and relaxing, but writing uninspired is like getting your spine ripped out.
Anyhow, to my neglected AvP fans, I have gotten a much deserved kick in the pants and I WILL finish Fire Blood's Story. Of course, if the anonymous reviewer is right, no one is probably reading this anyway because I've been away for way too long. I probably deserve it.
"Fire Blood's Story"
Chapter 4
By Leah
As the seasons passed and my training intensified even more, I began growing at a lethal rate. The days of retribution were drawing near. If there was the tiniest speck of gratitude I could give the Bad Blood it was for passing on his genetics for size. By the time I was seventeen seasons old I was at eye level with my aunt which was a rarity for males. On the off chance a male like me was bigger than a female it didn't happen until after their twentieth seasons—most never caught up.
I became increasingly obsessed with combat and strength training. I'd always push my limit, bulking up and becoming stronger everyday. The best part was the females began to notice.
I was practicing my shuriken throwing one day, trying to perfect the delicately deadly art of releasing the weapon. My fingers clenched the grips in the weapon's body as I calculated how much force I should exert to hit my inanimate target several yards away.
For some reason, despite my strength, I favored the swift strike of the six bladed shuriken. Something about how it flew threw the air, decimated my target, and then returned to my hand made the weapon feel like an extension of my body. I felt as if I could literally reach across distances and destroy my prey. Yet, unlike a plasma caster, it satisfied the visceral craving for blood dripping over my hand.
I took careful aim and released the disk. The disk spun hard missing the mark but carved a scar around the tree. Just as the weapon whirled back toward me a soft clicking caught my attention.
"Huh? OW!" I snarled, clumsily catching the weapon and receiving a slice to my arm.
My head turned and there stood a pair of young females. One, who was at least my height, was covered with large darker shaded blotches that blotted out her lighter base color. Her dreads were banded together in a high cluster but still fell down to the middle of her back. The other was an unusually small female with thin black stripes and shining silver arm bands. They appeared to be even younger than I was but not by much. Both of them were clicking with reserved laughter, noticing the blood ooze down my arm.
"Did that hurt?" the larger one with large blotches asked, raising a spined eye ridge.
Sheepishly, I hid my arm against my side, "Uh, no. No. Just a scratch."
The little female clicked with laughter, clenching her small mandibles to try to suppress it.
The dark blotched female jutted her hip to the side in a confident pose.
"My name is Ri'etta and this is my friend Amerra." she stated. "What's your name?"
They'd introduced themselves by name. That meant they were interested. I was still Honorless and I didn't have a name to give them. I wasn't sure what to say.
"Well…I…" I mumbled.
"Are you Blooded?" Ri'etta suddenly interrupted, stepping closer.
I couldn't let them know I was Honorless. They would leave without hesitation. But if I told them half-truths then maybe they wouldn't find out.
"Not yet. But I'm very close."
Nodding, Ri'etta asked, "So you haven't chosen a name yet?"
My mind raced. I was old enough for a name but without my honor I couldn't have one until my father was dead.
"Well, I um…" I hesitated, and then lied, "I just haven't found one that suits me."
Amerra touched the side of her face with a claw, giving me a sweet stare. Ri'etta lowered her eyelids with a smile. They whispered something to each other which I couldn't hear and then clicked.
Then Amerra said in soft voice, "You're big for a Young Blood."
A pleased smile filled my mandibles. She was interested—BIG time. Time to pour on the charm. I raised my shoulders impressively and circled them. They watched me, clicking even more rapidly.
I sidled up next to Amerra and flexed my arms casually, "You noticed?"
Surprisingly her eyes averted from me as if shy. I was taken aback. I'd never seen such an odd behavior come from a female. Most females were very assertive and hard to impress. Eventually she looked at me again with those beautiful eyes.
My smirk broadened as I extended by arms outward, rippling the muscles of my back and chest. Both watched with intent eyes, their mandible flicking.
"Would you lovely females like to go hunting with me?" I asked, tipping my head very close to their faces.
Suddenly a new voice—a male voice—barked from behind, "Hey Honorless! Stay away from my females!"
The spikes along my shoulders stiffened. I didn't respond but I stood up straighter. Amerra and Ki'etta gave me confused stares. My eyes flicked to the corners of their sockets.
"You talkin' to me?" I asked dangerously not facing the heckler.
The male voice huffed, "I don't see any other bastard spawn of Bad Bloods around here."
I could feel the blood rush to my eyes as my fists clenched. My whole body burned as if my blood was acid. Slowly I turned to face the male and immediately I recognized him. It was that same male with the broad chest stripes who tried to pick a fight with me when I tried to join the training field several years ago. His two friends were standing nearby, seeming to back him up. I briefly glanced at Ri'etta and Amerra. Their eyes betrayed a confusion as well as anticipation—they knew a fight was brewing.
I finally eyed my challenger and snarled, "And I don't see your claim on these females, Hac'nikt. They don't even know who you are."
The derider drew a dagger slowly and turned it over in his hand, "I don't imagine they know who YOU are either…Honorless."
I flung my shurikens so fast I barely realized I'd done it until they struck. One imbedded wetly into his friend's neck dropping him like a stone and the other sheared clear through the second's clavicle and out the back of his shoulder, drawing a harsh shriek of pain and a fountain of luminescent blood. My nemesis ducked, avoiding the one shuriken's return. I charged forward, snatching the blood-soaked shuriken out of the air and slashed it at my opponent.
He ducked out of its path and slashed his dagger at my throat. I yanked my head back, feeling a small slit bite into my neck.
Too close.
I spun around and parried a second strike from his dagger. Sparks flew and metal rang crisply as the two weapons danced in front of us. We moved across the jungle floor, snarling and weaving until suddenly I stumbled on a misplaced log. I crashed to my side and my opponent leaped on top of me with a roar, plunging the dagger toward my chest. With a quick roll I avoided instant death, but my nemesis pursued me, stabbing wildly. Wounds opened up on my body as my blood dripped hotly over my skin.
I parried one more dagger strike with my shuriken and my free hand suddenly struck something. It was the leg of his wounded friend who was standing and bleeding profusely all over the ground. Grabbing his ankle hard, I yanked him back right into the path of my enemy's dagger blade. Metal scraped bone and the unfortunate "living shield" squealed in agony as his spine was severed.
With my enemy temporarily thrown off guard I used all the strength in my legs to throw the "shield" right into him. It was perfect. The "shield" slammed so hard into my rival they both flew back into the base of a tree. My eyes burned with green fire. My anger was so great, my lust for blood so intoxicating I was up in an instant, flying through the air with my weapon reared back.
Blood sprayed my face—wonderful thick, hot glory. I roared, driving the cruel blades deeper into my enemy's chest and into the tree he was leaning against. He rattled brokenly, grasping for my forearm. Fiercely I punched his mandibles, reveling in the sound of broken flesh and bone. Again and again I hit him, each strike more violent than the first. My vision seemed to blur in a haze of green. Then suddenly the haze cleared and I realized my opponent didn't have a face anymore. I stopped and released the corpse which slumped on the shuriken.
For an instant I was stunned at the damage I'd inflicted. That haze…the blind fury…was that…? My mind failed to process it. Where did that blind wrath come from? I'd been angry before, even temperamental, but I'd never felt such uncontrolled rage. It was like my whole being was consumed by this…monster. Dumbly, I retrieved my shurikens and without a further word I leaped into the trees to make my way home.
After that unsightly display and the revelation of my honorlessness those two females would never want to see me again.
….
When I arrived back at the dwelling Aunt Ta'buka was waiting. She was sharpening a blade when I entered, blood slathering my front.
Her intense green eyes regarded me for a moment and she hissed, "Got in a fight did we?"
I nodded.
She admired her blade, "How many?"
"Three."
My Aunt pierced me with her eyes, "You lost control didn't you?"
I felt my head drop with shame. Somehow she knew. I didn't even have to say anything.
"How…how do you know that?" I asked.
Ta'buka whet the blade again, focusing the laser sharpener on its keen edge. She finished it and peered down its length.
Then she flicked the edge of her claw across the fine edge saying, "Given your bloodline I knew it would come eventually."
My heart felt heavy, "What?"
"Bad Blood can be passed down, Young Blood."
"I am NOT a Bad Blood!" I snarled fiercely.
She shook her head, "No. Not officially. You have committed no crime to justify that." Her eyes hardened, "Tell me, did you even see yourself killing them or was it a blind haze?"
I thought my mandibles would fall to my chest.
My Aunt stood up curtly and marched up to me. With one hand she grabbed a handful of my dreadlocks and pulled me closer.
Her voice was harsh, "You WILL control that temper Young Blood. I will NOT have two Bad Bloods in my line."
I could feel my eyes burning again but I closed them, "Yes, Aunt Ta'buka"
She released her hold on me, "Young Blood, you have the strength and skills to be the greatest fighter of our clan, but if you do not maintain control when you fight you will be JUST like him."
"I will NOT be him." I spat, "I WILL NOT!"
Ta'buka gave a small smile and nodded, "Your time is coming, Young Blood. Soon you will have the honor you so rightly deserve."