Chapter 10
Wolf and the Mask and Hood
(Warning: Graphic Content)
Hugo, Enrique and the other ten men looked back to a see a man standing assertively in the dusty, post evening sunlight rays. He wore a a dark blue cloak that covered his body, while his hood drooped loosely around his face like a tide that crashes over a rock on the sea shore. The only visible facial attribute that could be found on him was the flesh of his left eye, for his face was masked with a black fabric that started from the bridge of his nose and followed down until it disappeared into the collar. His gaze had a piercing effect with eyes that were focused, yet not intense, icy but not cold.
"And what the hell do you want?" yelled Enrique to the hooded stranger.
His head tilted upwards slightly, "The safety and well being of the inn keepers…" the voice that came from his mouth was familiar; deep and youthful, calm yet stern.
Upon hearing the manner in which the words were spoken, Holo's ears twitched with recollection. "Alden…?" asked she partially to herself with uncertainty.
Hugo looked back at her, "You know this fool?" Then walked through the gang up to the man. "Look, friend…if it's all the same, we must make a living as well. Their 'well being' does not comply with our pocket books."
From within the slit of the cloak, flew a large sack that hit the ground with a metallic thud at the feet of Hugo. The young man bent over and picked it up, then opened it to find a large collection of gold coins piled atop each other inside. His brows furled with confusion, then when looking back up asked, "What is the meaning of this?"
"It is the money you would have been paid to carry out this ordeal.' said the hood, 'If you depart now, you may keep it."
Hugo laughed, "Your wallet is a little bit thin if you are attempting to bribe us."
"I can bestow upon you more than just gold, should you take my offer."
"And that is…?"
"…your lives…"
A surge of amazement pulsed through the crowd from the boldness of this bargain. Holo herself was shocked on what she had heard come from this lone stranger. Though she had seen earlier that day, Alden felling Jasper and Erik, and the city guards restrain Hugo for a short time. Those occurrences seemed hardly a challenge when comparing them to a man who was willing to engage a dozen well armed mercenaries who chose murder as a profession.
The men bickered amongst each other concerning the threat issued, their tempers had flared, for the life is something that even the most peaceful of persons would kill for. Their interactions went on for a few more moments until the hood forced their hands.
"This offer will expire very shortly, the decision is simple, spare them and be spared. No matter what you choose however, I will be seeing the man and his wife alive and well before the sun sets. With or without the spilling of your blood."
Hugo bowed his head and shook with a condescending laugh, "I admire your reckless courage, but perhaps you are new to these kinds of situations. I have men at my back who are the type who would kill you for an amount that would not even sustain them for a weak. You have interfered with the affairs of the worst sort God's green earth has to offer, and are grossly outnumbered. So I have a better bargain for you, give us the gold and die quickly, or persist in your folly and die painfully while watching the ones you wanted so dearly to save, perish at your failure. I think that either way, our salary will double today regardless."
Each man gave a cheer at the end of Hugo's speech. Holo could only wince and shrink at the fact that not only would she meet with the hand of fate, but also her husband and this mystery man turned crazed savior.
"There is something about me you have overlooked, Bendejo." warned the hooded figure.
Hugo's face rapidly turned in anger, for he had just been verbally insulted in his native tongue. He threw the gold to Enrique, then stomped up to him with his blade in hand and held it to his throat. The masked man simply stood there, acknowledging the blade, but not the danger.
"And what is it about a damn fool I should know, tus Puto!?" demanded the irate young man.
In a flash, the hood grabbed and twisted the wrist of Hugo's knife arm in such a painful fashion that he had no choice but to submit and contort his body in order to avoid injury.
"I do not bargain…!" said the hood, no sooner than were the words spoken and received, the opening of the cloak parted as his knee came up and thrusted his foot furiously into Hugo's chest.
With a deep cough the young man flew back and collided with the other men, causing a domino effect. Hugo struggled to draw his breath, he gasped and wheezed as though his lungs imploded. Enrique and a few others began to advance upon the man until Hugo called out, "No! The cabron is mine!" then getting to his feet he held up his machete and said, "Are there any final words you wish to speak before I run you through!?"
The masked man sighed calmly, then directing his gaze at the quivering woman, who felt compelled to watch, out of curiosity, what would transpire in the next few minutes.
He then flexed his neck, adjusted his stance and said, "Come, your angel of death awaits…"
Hugo raised his blade overhead and made a blind charge upon the man. Just as he came down to swing, the hooded figure made an aggressive move to the side. The hems of his cloak expanded like the wings of the destroying angel he claimed to be. A loud metal shrill alluded, and the stranger stayed unharmed.
Within his hands was a sword of curious workmanship that appeared foreign. The blade was roughly one and a half meters long, single edged and slightly curved with an immaculate temper line in front and a deep fuller at the back. At the base of the collar were symbols of calligraphy whose origins could not be determined. The guard was silver while the ornaments on the handle were a deep mauve with a jagged end pommel (made for blunt attacks) with a tassel of the same ornament color tied at the hilt that measured about eight inches in length.
Despite the unique characteristics of this weapon, there lay an additional feature that previously unscathed the finish…. blood.
Hugo, unknowing of his circumstances, staggered, then looked down and, saw his own machete on the ground still being clutched by a severed arm that left a trail of red leading to his feet. With an oscillating anxiety, he set his attention to his right shoulder. With trembling horror he saw his arm missing at the bicep with muscle and bone exposed at the socket.
He let out a shriek of revulsion as his mental state collapsed, for the loss of limb meant the loss of a way of life as well. His panicked frenzy soon came to an end as the hooded swordsman came back with a horizontal slice that cut through the entire width of the neck. The body turned, stumbled and collapsed on its side, leaving the wretched being a headless, amputee.
Holo let out a weak gasp and turned pale at the gruesome sight. Enrique dropped the satchel of gold, "Hugo…?" he called out almost tearfully. Then looking up at the man who brought this end upon his friend, pointed his sword and commanded to the rest, "MATA EL DIABLO!"
They advanced with hasty abandoned upon the hood, who then unbuttoned the cloak at the nape of the neck and threw it into the the rushing mob. The mantle fell over the heads of three men, blinding them ephemerally.
With this distraction in place, the hood lunged his blade forward at the man in the middle, running it completely through his torso and cutting the heart. He fell on his back and twitched until the severity of his injury overtook him.
The two others finally succeeded in pulling the mantle from their eyes while another with a cleaver came around and swung for our bloodied hero. The hood evaded at a side angle, shooting the attacker passed him then hit him in the back with a rear kick. The cleaver holder stumbled down and came into contact with a crate while the other two made a simultaneous attempt on the masked man's life.
With an amazing display of acrobatics, the hood met them with a jump spin, hitting the assailant on his left with his right foot and vice versa. They both were cleared for the time being, while the man with the cleaver came back from behind while another made a frontal assault.
They came together upon the hooded swordsman, who, with pristine timing, stepped off to the side. The rear man's cleaver came down and burrowed deep where the neck and shoulder meet of the front man.
No sooner than when the steel sunk into the flesh, a smooth flow of red spewed swiftly between the edges. The non-intending culprit gaped in trepidation upon realizing he had mortally wounded his comrade, and made a deranged attempt to liberate his blade while apologizing frantically with profound remorse.
The masked death bringer stood adjacent, then with a simple stroke, took off the head of the apologist, then redirected his sword upward, gutting the sufferer from waist to chin. He fell to his knees with the cleaver still housed above the collar, his bloodied hands grasping his stomach, whose severed membranes could not contain his innards as his organs fell out of arrangement and pushed through the incision, and could be visibly seen in his palms.
He let out a disturbingly pathetic chuckle as insanity overtook him, and could only utter a final word in a faint cry, "….Mama…." He then fell forward, landing upon the hilt of the cleaver, which tore and altered the laceration further.
As the deadly specter was about to make his way on the path of future engagements, one such assailant in the background withdrew a small throwing knife and hurled it at our innkeeper's defender. The hood saw the oncoming projectile with enough time to move away his vital areas as it transfixed itself into his left collar. He recoiled slightly, and went on without pulling the foreign object from his body.
The two who were knocked down, were recovered, when the situation became more complex. Another villain who was equipped with the large axe, made a massive swing, in which the hooded figure found his sword launched from his grip and straightway implanted in a wooden crate behind.
The axe man came down with an overhead strike in attempts to split the stranger's skull in two. But he quickly jumped back as the axe hit the ground at his feet, forcing up sparks. The wielder looked up to see the boot of the hood brawn him upside the jaw and knock him on his back.
Of the two first mentioned, the one on the masked man's left began to swing like a lunatic at our dark hero, who evaded backwards, and adjusted the angle of his body in certain ways in response to the direction of the swings. He caught the blade hand, then when given the chance, threw a powerful straight punch into the nose of the attacker, turning him backwards on his knees.
The second one on the right was vastly approaching, in response, the hooded stranger then pulled the knife from his shoulder and hurled it swiftly into his right eye.
His head shot back, as he dropped his weapon and grasped his face, then turned to one of his allies and screamed uncontrollably, "GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!"
Amidst the chaos, the man who was hit came back up and made a thrusting run for his enemy. The hood stepped off to the side, grabbed the lapel, spun him around and ran him backwards into a crate, then with his bare hands, began savagely beating him without mercy. With controlled, directional harmony, the hands of the hood struck the poor man all over in rapid succession. Be it the ribs, face, pressure points or sternum. Despite his attempts to block the barrage of knuckles that pounded at his bones with his arms, the man could not withstand the force of each repeated hit, until he sank as a bruised, fractured and bloodied mess upon the floor. Just then, the bandit who had the spear came in with a straight charge for the hood's lower back. The defender then pivoted out of the way and simply redirected the lancer into the throat of the sunken man. The tip went straight through the wind pipe and into the wood behind him. Nailed to the crate, the man clutched at the pole and kicked and squirmed in agony but none could assist him.
The spear man was then met with a back fist across the cheek by his enemy. Who then pulled a small knife and went for a stab, but the hood caught the wrist, twisted the arm straight, forcing the man to bend over, then rolled over his back forcing his arm to lay straight way across his shoulders making a terrible crack of the bones. Then took the small knife, breaking the wrist in the process, and threw it up into the man's chest. He let out a painful cough and could not find the proper way to carry himself, eventually leading him to lay down and suffer silently.
The masked man made a dash for his sword which was still obtrude in the neighboring crate. As his arm made an extension for it, he withdrew quickly for the axeman swung his weapon down to where his hand would have been. The axe embedded into the crate, leaving it's owner vulnerable.
The hood threw his elbow into the perpetrator's nose then grabbed the back of his head and slung his face head on into the hilt of the sword. The axeman collapsed from the stun but assistance was on the way, for another was coming in for the kill.
Hastily acknowledging the advancing threat, the deadly swordsman withdrew his saber, turned and swung down upon his assailer's head. The sword gashed the skull from the top to the middle of the eyes. His body went limp, then was turned and thrown upon the axeman to keep him down.
He startled in horror at the sight of his ally's head which now had an incarnadine gorge for a scalp that left a fleshy segment of brain tissue which tarried between the ocular organs like a lock of hair. The mortified man looked past the gruesome sight to see the hooded man hovering ore then plunged his blade through the corpse and into his torso, thus ending the charade of yet another bandit.
Upon sliding his sword out from its encampment of human meat, the hooded stranger caught wind of another foe advancing from behind and swung for the head. In a vicious maneuver, the swordsman ducked under the blade, pivoted, and kicked out the assailant's feet from underneath him, all in one motion. As the man fell parallel to the earth, the sword of his adversary came up and met him in mid air at the waist, separating his body into two segments.
Both sections landed in a gory display of bone, tissue and unkempt intestine that lay in a puddle of cardinal fluids. The upper half still moved, as the victim was still conscious but was no longer coherent. His suffering was brought to an end as the same sword which divided him, went clean through his skull.
The hooded combatant, stayed kneeled over him, his blade upturned and embedded into the head of his victim. He then lifted his face towards the remaining three, with a shivering glare that possessed eyes that wanted nothing less than the destruction of the ones who had crossed him.
This trio consisted of Enrique, one who stood cradling the metal intrusion sticking from his eye socket and some other who had not been encountered as of yet. Enrique began to walk off to the side, "Kill the wolf girl and her husband first."
Holo kneeled down and began cradling the head of her husband, who at this point had opened his eyes but was spending a season in the state of delirium. She looked back up in anxiety, unsure how this event would unfold.
Enrique kept distancing himself from the scene, the other two gawked at him in spurning amazement. "You two can split the gold….when finished." said he with a great fearing for his life. He made it to the door, before foolishly realizing that it had been secured tight.
He looked back, "I do not care anymore! just finish it!" said he with daring agitation.
The one spoke to the other with the ocular disparity, "Keep him busy, I'll finish this."
They parted, one to the couple the other to the swordsman. Holo, in a pandemic condition, tried to drag Lawrence away. The hood made a rapid pursuit for the would be murderer of the wise wolf.
The eye lacerated man stood in the way and attempted to grab hold of the hero to retard his design. But the masked cutthroat swooped low and with a swipe, disjoined his left leg at the knee. The man then fell and began to crawl with an agonizing scream.
Our innkeeper's assaulter was vastly approaching the helpless man and woman, Holo shook Lawrence violently to awaken his senses. Then with a cry of desperation, she wrapped herself over his upper body as a means to shield her beloved from the killing blow. She closed her eyes tightly, and awaited the wrath of the blade, but heard a most unnatural yelp followed by a series of grotesque coughs and gargled breathings.
She opened an eye and saw the attacker's face in total hysteria with his mouth widely ajar with the sword of the hood extending from it, like that of a steel tongued serpent. Our dark avenger had purported his blade through the back of the assailant's neck and out the oral cavity, breaking the teeth and riving the tongue in two, until the dripping tip of the reddened sword was stopped only an inch from Holo's nose.
The unfortunate soul who had the grave unpleasantness to have his attempts discharged in such a barbaric fashion, twitched and shook in convulsions as the hooded man lowered him down, put a foot on his back and pushed him off the blade. He fell on his face with his hind in the air and continued the disturbing flutter as a circle of blood began to expand from his jaw until it formed a dark, maroon plashet upon the ground.
Holo shuddered at the sight, as her savior turned and walked towards the crying man who lay dismembered. They traded gazes with each other, the hood standing as a statue while the injured could not keep his composure.
"Kill me quickly," he pled.
"You can still leave here with one hundred gold." said the hood.
"I have become an oddity!' he cried, 'forever will I live half blind! And never again will I walk or run! No amount of gold can make up this loss! What life do I have before me? This is not life to live this way, so I beg of you to end my suffering!"
"As you wish…" said the hood, then readied his blade.
The sufferer positioned himself on his hands and knee, then looking to Holo said, "I'm sorry…."
"As am I…" said the hood, then brought down his sword like a guillotine and smote off the head.
"BEHIND YOU!" exasperated the voice of Holo as the devil Enrique seized a weapon and made an assault from behind.
The masked man turned in time to see a plethora of ludicrous swings from a machete. He raised up his sword to guard but the handle slipped from his grip as the machete struck the hand and gashed the palm open, almost to the bone. The hood stayed calm and moved back but had no choice but to raise his left arm as a shield against the oncoming blade that cut deeply into the top of the forearm.
Enrique re-chambered his arm for a cross slash, but this time the hood found his opportunity and moved to the outside of his body, caught the arm lengthwise and forced him to drive the knife into his own leg.
"MIERDA!" cried he, falling to the ground. He rocked on his back while cradling his aching limb which encircled the six inches of sharp steel.
"Please, Spare My Life! I'll do anything, ANYTHING!" he cowardly pled to the exceptionally skilled swashbuckler.
"Hold your peace!"
"Whatever you want,' begged Enrique, 'I will give it to you!"
"All that I require, is information." said the hood.
"If that is all that you want…."
"Do you know fully, who it was you were hired to kill?" said the hood with an interrogated tone.
"H-Holo the wise wolf, or some tramp who…"
The masked man put his heel on Enrique's jaw and began pressing. Coughing and squirming he mustered to correct his poor choice in words, "I-I mean a woman who claimed to be!"
The hood relieved the pressure, then asked, "Are there any other of your ilk lying in wait without the walls of this structure?"
"Yes, there is a tavern south of here where a relief party of five are awaiting. They were to stand by in case we were to be in need of assistance. They are to investigate soon when they shall not see us returning to report to them."
The hood kneeled beside Enrique and took him by the lapel and raised his face to his. "The final inquiry, who hired you?" asked he strongly.
Enrique moved his eyes away, "I don't know we were only contacted by…"
With a brutal display of unfeelingness, the hood grabbed the knife in the man's leg and began to wrench it. Enrique's face went pale with streaks of perspiration rapidly descending down his temples.
The hood affixed and intense gaze upon him, "Falsifying your story will only cause you agony."
"Madre de dios, I swear we did not know his name, a messenger contacted us with a letter of proposal and a satchel of ten lumions as a down payment for our services!"
"What did the letter say?!" said the hood, twisting the dagger even more.
With more despair in his voice Enrique bellowed, "A NAME, LOCATION AND INFORMATION OF THE TARGET ALONG WITH THE DETAILS OF PAYMENT, THAT'S ALL I KNOW I SWEAR!"
"Minimal!' said the hood, then relinquishing his grip, 'but acceptable."
He stood and turned to retrieve his sword from the ground, leaving Enrique gasping in relief and affliction. As he saw his enemy thus turned, he slowly reached for Hugo's machete. After pulling it from the fingers of the dismembered arm, he mustered every last effort of human will to stand and make a lunge for his enemy.
Quickly turning, the hooded man kicked the knife deeper into Enrique's leg until the tip penetrated and splintered the bone. With a squawk, Enrique dropped to both knees, staring at the ceiling with blood shot eyes.
He then saw the hood, readying his sword for annihilation, "No PLEASE!"
But the time for mercy was far spent for this wretched man. With a straight thrust, the sword went clean through the middle of the throat, then was pulled off to the side, leaving Enrique's head hinging half way off the neck in the same like manner of a lid to it's chest.
He fell to his side, then slowly turned upon his backside, while trying to scream, however, his voice sounded as a trump being blown under water, for the sound came from the socket, not the mouth.
With every threat seemingly neutralized, the hooded destroyer grabbed his own mantle and used it to wipe his sword clean of the vermilion, sanguinary fluid that discolored the silver finish. Upon a detailed inspection by holding the blade high up in the rays of light, and seeing it stained no more, he then sheathed his sword in the scabbard that hung off the left hip.
Holo watched in fascination as he calmly tore the fabric into separate segments of cloth, then began to bind up his wounds tightly to stop the bleeding. He then composedly walked up to the innkeepers, Holo turned her shoulder slightly upon his approach. He gently extended his hand towards the fair consort, and said devotedly, "Are you alright?"
She timidly looked at the hand then up into the eyes of its owner, then said, "I am, but my husband cannot stand."
The hood looked down at Lawrence, who had his eyes open but looked around like an infant that sees the world for the first time. The masked man then rolled up what was left of his cloak and set it beneath Lawrence's head as a support. The hood then began to snap his fingers repeatedly at Lawrence's ear, then waived his hand across his eye line, but he did not respond.
"Let us have him rest a moment, and in time his senses shall return in full." said the hood.
Holo, with a tender worry in her eyes, stroked her husband's face in a nurturing motion. She then looked up at her unknown savior, "Why would they do this?"
"Wicked men are easily bought with coin."
" I mean, what gain would be granted at our demise?" asked Holo in contemplation.
"Whomever he is,' replied the hood, 'He has power, money and resources unlike any other I have ever encountered. I know not his name, for he is discrete and an extremely intelligent mastermind. I regret to inform you that I know not what his motives truly are, however I will not abandon you in your darkest hour…" he would have continued until he caught the face of Holo looking off dissonantly at the bloody corpses that lay strewn about.
Her face became pale and her lip began to tremble as her head began to droop at an angle. The hood quickly turned Holo away from Lawrence and haunched her over, then held her hair behind her shoulders while patting her on the back. With a gargle, he felt an inward jolt in her spine as a portion of vomit ejected from her mouth.
After this episode of post prostration, she coughed and wiped her mouth clean, and excused herself while panting, "I am sorry….I.."
"It is quite all right." said the stranger somewhat kindly.
"It's just morning sickness…." said Lawrence like a child as he ventured to sit up.
In response, and out of concern for personal safety, the masked man went to him and coaxed him to quell the want to stand on his feet for the moment. Lawrence looked around with bewilderment upon the exhibition of bloodshed that was left from the altercation. Still beside himself, and due to the lasting effects of head trauma, Lawrence saw the corpses, and his attempts to save his bride from the bandits being his latest memoir, buried his face in his hands and began to mourn.
"I killed them all….' he murmured with guilt, 'Father forgive me, I'm a murderer!" he sobbed. This caused Holo to be put on alarm, for his mental condition was lessened from its original fullness.
"Whenever I would think him an idiot,' started Holo bleakly, 'I was not as concerned as I am now."
"Fear not,' reassured the hood, 'he is showing the first signs of improvement."
"What he is saying does not make sense." she protested.
"Yes, but he is speaking audibly." said he in return with reassurance.
Holo then sat next to Lawrence and placed a worried hand on his shoulder. After a moment's silence, Holo reflected upon all the day's events, then looked up at the hood and asked, "You're name is not Alden is it?"
"It was only an alias." responded he.
"Was the safeguard Association a ruse as well?"
"Yes and no; Though we have a secret line of work, our business proposals on the surface are legitimate."
"What is your line of work then?" she asked earnestly.
"Preparedness in safeguarding all things." said the hood, who then looked down at Lawrence who seemed to becoming more and more coherent. The masked stranger then put his face opposite his, then asked, "Do you know your name?"
"Kraft…Lawrence." said he preliminarily.
"What city are you in?"
"Nyohirra."
"To whom are you married?"
"Holo."
"How long have you been married?"
"About…a couple years…."he said with uncertainty.
The hood looked up at Holo who nodded that what he said was in fact true. She then asked, "Lawrence, do you remember what happened here?"
Rubbing his eyebrow with excruciation, "We were being attacked by mercenaries, they grabbed you, I went after them, and that's it."
"You cannot remember how you…"
The hood's voice cut her off, "Tis normal for him not recall the moments prior to his unawareness.' then asking of Lawrence, 'are you able to stand?"
"I believe so…" said he.
The stranger then began to lift Lawrence to his feet, with Holo assisting. They walked side by side, with Holo holding up the arm of her husband while his other was supported over the broad shoulders of the hood. The unnerving silence was broken by the sickly sound of their feet slapping the pools of blood that drenched the floor. They came to the door which was barred and chained.
"Now how do we get out?" said Lawrence weakly.
"Even with it locked,' said the she-wolf looking towards the swordsman, 'you found a way in, perhaps you can find a way out."
The hood handed Lawrence wholly over to the care of his wife. Then approached the door and began to examine its style of barricade. The chains held loosely enough for adequate free-play for what the stranger had in mind. He withdrew his sword and wedged it in the metal slates that held the beam. Then used it like a lever to pry and uproot it by the nails. The beam fell out of place, allowing the stranger to slide it free.
"The way is clear." said he.
"Where do you plan on taking us?" asked Lawrence.
"Back to your inn."
Holo objected, "We cannot return there, these conspirators know who we are!"
"They do not know me." said the hood putting his sword back in place.
"And who are you then?" asked Holo with a demanding air in her voice.
"One who simply wishes to rid the world of wickedness." replied the masked man.
Lawrence then looked at the corpses then back at the stranger, his eyes widened and he almost collapsed. Holo caught him and helped him stay on his feet.
"w-why your…" he stammered with Holo gazing upon him as if he were mad.
Looking upon the mighty swordsman, Lawrence recollected himself and declared,
"You're the Ranger!"
(A/N Ok, the reason I got chapters out so fast to this point, was because they were already written and saved. It was only a matter of editing, and proof reading. Any way, I'll still keep up the work, but I need to get back to typing at this point, so stay tuned!" PS: made another AMV Called Swords of Winter, just look up on youtube Angel Vivaldi AMV and mine should be 2nd from top. Should set the tone for how this guy fights.)