Part 1: Prelude to a nightmare
The night air was chilled and held the promise of rain, the ground was still damp from the precipitation earlier that day. The lights of the city guided the panicked man's way as the sun had set hours ago. He dashed down the street and into a dark alley. The torn, dirty rags that covered and concealed him looked relatively dry. A single, very drunk bum sat, propped up against one side of the alley, a whiskey bottle lying on the ground next to him. The man ran by him and continued onward. He crossed yet another street and moved into a park. Once in the park the man fell to his knees clutching his back. Under his cloths there was a bone-chilling snap followed by a painfully long fleshy ripping noise. He screamed in pain and fell to the soft grass. A causal "passer-by" stopped and approached, concerned. The person lowered themself to their knees and placed a hand on the man's shoulder, he felt like he was on fire. "Are you ok?" The guy asked, No response. "Help..help! I think this man's di-.." The person's voice cut out as the man stood up. The man in dirty clothes looked different then a normal person. His hands weren't a human pink. But, were scaly and a brownish-red. He lifted his head, though the hood blocked out his face, the eyes under it glowed a dark crimson red. He elevated his hand and gripped the person's throat, stepping forward; he lifted the other person off the ground with one of his inhuman hand. Frantic murmurs of pain escaped the person's rapidly closing throat. With a disturbing "snap" the man in rags broke the person's neck and dropped the body to the ground. The man took off once more, this time taking off his rags. Most of his skin save for his torso and face was this odd brownish-red. Talons now thrusted out of his feet, his fingers became long, hooked, and large yellow claws jutted out. But it was his back that had transformed most dramatically. His back was muscular, and two large leathery wings attached to his spine. They curled up one section under another. With painful snaps he unfurled them and stretched them. He gripped one in his taloned hands, curious. Lighting crackled and rains poured around the dark figure, his extremely muscular build, wings and red crimson eyes gave an intimidating and evil look to him as if he had been spawned from the pits of hell it's self. Questions flowed through his mind. He didn't even know what was happening to him.what was his name? He paused and thought for a moment.he would call himself, Reihl.the name seemed to comfort him. Sirens blazed somewhere out in the darkness and snapped him back to the moment. He took off, into the darkness.
The night air was chilled and held the promise of rain, the ground was still damp from the precipitation earlier that day. The lights of the city guided the panicked man's way as the sun had set hours ago. He dashed down the street and into a dark alley. The torn, dirty rags that covered and concealed him looked relatively dry. A single, very drunk bum sat, propped up against one side of the alley, a whiskey bottle lying on the ground next to him. The man ran by him and continued onward. He crossed yet another street and moved into a park. Once in the park the man fell to his knees clutching his back. Under his cloths there was a bone-chilling snap followed by a painfully long fleshy ripping noise. He screamed in pain and fell to the soft grass. A causal "passer-by" stopped and approached, concerned. The person lowered themself to their knees and placed a hand on the man's shoulder, he felt like he was on fire. "Are you ok?" The guy asked, No response. "Help..help! I think this man's di-.." The person's voice cut out as the man stood up. The man in dirty clothes looked different then a normal person. His hands weren't a human pink. But, were scaly and a brownish-red. He lifted his head, though the hood blocked out his face, the eyes under it glowed a dark crimson red. He elevated his hand and gripped the person's throat, stepping forward; he lifted the other person off the ground with one of his inhuman hand. Frantic murmurs of pain escaped the person's rapidly closing throat. With a disturbing "snap" the man in rags broke the person's neck and dropped the body to the ground. The man took off once more, this time taking off his rags. Most of his skin save for his torso and face was this odd brownish-red. Talons now thrusted out of his feet, his fingers became long, hooked, and large yellow claws jutted out. But it was his back that had transformed most dramatically. His back was muscular, and two large leathery wings attached to his spine. They curled up one section under another. With painful snaps he unfurled them and stretched them. He gripped one in his taloned hands, curious. Lighting crackled and rains poured around the dark figure, his extremely muscular build, wings and red crimson eyes gave an intimidating and evil look to him as if he had been spawned from the pits of hell it's self. Questions flowed through his mind. He didn't even know what was happening to him.what was his name? He paused and thought for a moment.he would call himself, Reihl.the name seemed to comfort him. Sirens blazed somewhere out in the darkness and snapped him back to the moment. He took off, into the darkness.