It has been many years that I have served my master. Many forgotten years I have served him as he withered beneath his illusions, and yet my flesh and my hunger grows stronger with each passion decade. Time means nothing to the Zetarren.
It is this flesh and this hunger that he yearns for to find his enemies and do as he commands, which is, as I act upon his next demand, tasks he could never do on his own.
She believed to have hidden herself along the blood and the stone we paved, and if I had not been here, Kollector would not have known. My master may feel, but it is my eyes that give him greater view of the world. A world none can see quite like a reptile.
The heat of her breath, the press of her heart against the ribs that shackled it beneath her pert bosom, which to I are nothing more than mounds of fat to devour with the rest of her flesh. Syzoth knows nothing of her beauty, and if she tries to use it, as she screams beneath me, I will laugh, and I will hiss, and she will scream louder.
Little did the girl know that I had climbed atop the secret building master had chosen, though secret no more, and that will not do. "Strict order," he commanded, and follow I shall for the longer I serve, the greater the power I amass in his ranks. Soon Syzoth will be the power they beg for orders from.
Though not as acute as a Tyrannosaur, the birds they were, such filth, I could smell her even in this dense city of filth and human scum. She cannot hide once I have taken in and tasted her scent. She scurred like a rat through the maze of the city beyond the Kahn's coliseum. She was still near though, she is a curious little girl.
The rain fell silent and the blood washed away into dirt and mud and collected by the river that coursed beside the city. That, after all is why they used this road to dispose of the dead. I will use this road, to drag her screaming body to my master.
Once the door closed behind me, I was off. There is no need to wait, no need for patience. My master demanded her presence, but not her death. Syzoth would not eat tonight, but perhaps this task completed would grant me access to the lower levels of our little home beneath the nose of the Kahn, where our true leader would praise me for tonight's work.
Her heat emitted a trail, much like the blood that oaf, Kollector had left behind for her to follow unbeknownst to him. What a fool. Only a Zetarran can get the job done right, I've already killed one girl tonight, so I don't need the satisfaction of removing this one's jaw, just her freedom. She made several turns, left, left, right, right, left, straight, never did she leave the city for the Forbidden Forest, where I would be even stronger and better at her capture. At least, though she did not know what followed her, was not a stupid girl.
Perhaps I would have sport to make her feel like she were. Stupid human. Stupid girl. I must have power over her.
My claws dig into the clay, the stone, and the wood that made up the housing from rich to poor to middle class. There were quarters to this city, and she remained within the slums, which meant this girl was a street urchin. She never knew money, never knew what it meant to feel like she belonged. Well, girl, now you do, as my master's slave.
Having traced her scent to the merchant's corner of the slum, which connected against the wall just before the Forbidden Forest, it seemed she may have need to rest. A girl must stop to breath and catch herself, but a Zetarran needs only the heat and the hunt to keep going. Once the walls grew thin and my weight would be too much to climb the sides, I had pulled myself up to the roofs, though some of the buildings would cave beneath me, I had ensured to climb only those that I knew could afford it.
Wealth is not evenly distributed in Outworld, though Kitana may believe herself to be a great and fair woman, she was no true Kahnum. If you saw the slums, the thieves, and the filth the rats I hunted down for my master, well, I'm no politician, merely a servant myself. I care not, just little thoughts that float from my reptilian head as I play with his little girl's hopes of freedom. Though, what would Outworld be like under my rule?
No, forget it. For now, at least. I have a task to complete.
Hiss-
My reptilian breath hissed shushed the noise around me as the wind picked up to allow me such volume, but as it died again, I spotted her. I was above her, this little girl, not yet a young adult, but not a child. She would get very excited once I claw her, and her screams will fill my head with joy. The brats always screamed louder for their souls are rebellious and by feeble beliefs, immortal.
She thought she could hug the wall and lean across the corner to see if any had followed her? What nonsense is that? Of course I have followed you. You will know soon enough, my little victim.
Patience, prisoner.
Slowly my claws etched down the walls. My body was sustained by the strength of stone and wood well crafted and nailed into place. Good money bought these walls, and the merchant booths would silence my landing as the wind brushed the cloth that waved around her.
My feet, though invisible, did splash against mud from the pools collected by the rain, but her attention was to an alley that twisted round and round until it ended with a building that took up two of the slum's blocks. It was a guild hall for the thieves, and she narrowed it to get to this point. Well hidden, little girl, but not from Syzoth.
Now that I had a better look at her, I could see pale skin and onyx hair. Long and beautiful on a little girl, but not beautiful for this creature. Just beautiful to think of how I will drag her by it and listen to her screams as no one dared to save her. Her clothing was ragged and shredded cotton. She was poor. Not only poor, but the bruises and cuts beneath her clothing revealed an abused girl. The best kind of girl to disappear into the night and become a slave to my master.
No one will miss you, little girl.
No one loves you, and no one will save you.
Closer.
Closer.
Step by step, inch by inch she believed herself free as she held still to breath. I inch and my claws, unseen by her Outworlder eyes grew larger and ready to dig into such pale and thin, fragile flesh. Oh, the wealth of human skin I could tear if my master had ordered me to devour her. The blood would be rich and spill and spoil the earth beneath us. I would lap it from the stone, from the wood and from her bones.
Perhaps I was wrong, little girl. My master has saved you. From me.
She turned around, and our eyes met. I was elated and excited that my tongue flickered inches from her face, I knew she could feel my presence, but she could only believe it to be the wind. My body took the heat of the world around it, though it did slow me down some, as my body would soon need to be energized, it was still swift enough that I could trap her in my grasp before she even knew it.
As my heat was pulled from me, hers I could feel and the scent of this girl unable to realize her fate just intoxicated me. I was drunk with her heat, and intoxicate by the hunt. In only seconds I would have her, in only seconds!
GRASP!
SCREAM!
SCRATCH!
HISS!
She was mine! But little bitch struggled! She was a fighter, a survivor. My master would maker her his favorite slave, perhaps even a sexual slave. He had not had one of her youth in decades.
"Let me go!" Oh, she screamed. Her voice was high, but I could not hear her as a human would. It did not bother me the slightest.
I threw her body against the stone wall she had previous used to hide herself from some unknown follower. My body, once in contact with hers, revealed itself, and though it did, she her only hint that I was anything other than human were my claws that dug into her flesh.
As she were thrown by my great strength, her blood stained the wall and fell to the ground and intoxicated me further. Oh, I love the feeling of blood in my maw, on my flesh, if only it would be mine to have this evening, but suddenly, as if I had been forced to sober, I saw her, not her body rise, but her hand stretch out and grasp the blood like it were the flies that hovered the dead.
Blood magic? On this cretin of a girl? She clearly did not know of her strength, but I sure did as the blood pooled into a physical orb that then whipped me into the air and my breath was taken from me. The mud scraped the leather away that hid my face from her and my true reptilian eyes and maw darted back toward her in shock, in anger, and in excitement.
I had longed for a fight, for a true hunt, and this little girl just gave it to me. With fear she looked into my eyes, and with horror looked at the blood that stained her and myself. She was little witch, a girl that I could contend against and find pride in her capture, but a girl that had just become far more valuable. Tonight, I would surely visit our true leader, for this capture would be much greater than that of the Kollector's.
She thought she could as she collected herself form the ground and spiraled around to escape me, but I just went invisible and followed suit. Unfortunately the blood could not be hidden, so it meant I would have to climb to buildings again. Some were one story and were only one room hovels, others had at least another, or even two rooms, but at least in the slums and thieves quarter, no one but the guild could afford two floors.
She tripped in the mud and slammed face first into the thieves guild wall. There I leapt and captured her. I sezied the gap of two buildings worth and landed on top of her screaming body. Had she forgotten her strength? The blood between us only grew as she fought me, but then I held her wrists down and used my body's weight to hold the rest of her.
How dare you, Syzoth, take this moment to lick the blood clean off the filthy, muddy, and tear stained cheeks of this little girl. She tasted like a hunt well made, but I could see something fierce in her glare back at me. This girl did not like being held down, and did not appreciate being licked against her will, be it by a predator like myself, or worse.
Her anger and fear only served to drunken my state.
Held by those beautiful locks tied into a ponytail as they called it, I dragged her kicking and screaming all the way back to a building just a block away from the hideout Kollector had brought her to. Here, an underground tunnel beneath Edenian tapestry, stolen from the castle by thieves my master would now and then. They would keep my secrets and her screams silent within the city, and I would keep the scarlet covered girl as my prize to bring before my master.
Perhaps the true Kahn would make me his official assassin. No one has held that rank yet, no one, until I present him with her.