Moribund

What are you doing, ooman?

Despite his weakened state, Dachande lifted his head barely enough to catch a glimpse of the ooman female holding his bhrak with unsteady hands as Tichinde howled in a mix of laughter and Nan-de than gaun. It didn't take a clever Yautja to know that the ooman was no match for even the lowest of Bad Bloods . . . and Tichinde was far from it.

The Bad Blood made the first move, rushing at blinding speed toward the female, barely having enough common sense and reflex to escape having her throat torn. She rolled out of range and took the chance to strike at Tichinde but already, he knew it was useless.

Tichinde had plenty of time and slashed his blades upward, the spikes catching on the shaft and the ooman was thrown across as if weighing nothing more than a suckling. Tichinde didn't get her a chance to recover, kicking her in the stomach and launching her even further back.

The oomans female cried out and it fueled Tichinde with bloodlust that made Dachande sick, his wounds aggravated as if reacting to his emotion on the matter. He weakly looked at the female, seeing her struggle to even get to her knees with the support of his weapon. She's not going to survive this. What a waste.

"Is that all you got?" Tichinde mocked her by waving his blades for show, "And here our kind was taught to fear you but you're just pathetic."

The female staggered, glanced at Tichinde with a flicker of anger, and somehow stood to her feet. Dachande winched when he held his breath. Are you stupid?

Surprised briefly, Tichinde laughed, "Still want more? You've got guts, I'll give you that."

The ooman growled and then charged, screaming like a wild animal and thrusting his spear at the Bad Blood's chest. Dachande groaned in disappointment, training has taught him to avoid being emotional, and going straight for the kill at the very start without observation was a death wish. Many students who were under his instructions died just for that sole reason . . . and here he thought the ooman knew better.

Tichinde was the opposite; he grabbed the base of the blade with such ease and held it there, even as the female used all her might to shake his grip off. Tichinde chuckled and then swatted the spear away followed by a slap to her. The ooman's body was thrown to the ground and didn't move for several seconds, appearing that Tichinde knocked the ooman into dhi'ki.

Tichinde laughed, "Pathetic! And here I was thinking of taking your skull as a trophy but after this . . ."

He walked to her and pressed his foot on the base of her neck, "Better as fertilizer for the insects."

Tichinde extended his wrist blades, showing them off as a signal that the end was near. Something inside his chest pulled him to try and stand. Dachande groaned, using one of his arms to at least get his upper body up but when he was close, his hand slipped and he fell, breaking another rib somehow.

C'jit . . . He felt his blood pooling underneath his body. I have to stop this.

Dachande watched in slow motion as Tichinde brought the blades toward the Earth to cut the ooman. He could do nothing but await his fate the moment the female was killed. I'm . . . not going to die like a coward!

Suddenly, Tichinde howled as his back exploded several times, creating various holes that found their way between his awu'asa. Then, the cries of an ooman echoed behind and both he and Tichinde turned around, much to the amazement that it was the older ooman female holding a weapon that was smoking from the end.

"Still alive?" Tichinde hissed, "You oomans tend to keep coming like insects!"

The adult ooman stood still as Tichinde rushed at her, blades and all. He half expected the same outcome as the previous ooman but was stunned when the female ran away with the Bad Blood following. Does she plan to escape?

Tichinde lept and closed the distance, coming down like a deadly lightning strike right at the moment the ooman made her move. Using a nearby rock, she kicked and used the momentum to slide underneath him. Tichinde missed and in turn, jammed his blades into the stone. He snarled and tried to free himself but it was easier said than done.

The ooman stood and aimed the small blaster at the back of Tichinde's head, firing a single shot but Tichinde reacted and barely missed having his brain explode but didn't exactly come out unscathed. The ooman fired several more rounds and it riddled his arm and side with holes that squirted green blood like a broken tube. Tichinde roared in extreme pain and Dachande felt a little glee that the Bad Blood was suffering at the hands of a weak ooman, the humiliation alone would be a disgrace even for his low status.

The advantage though was short-lived when the ooman's weapon clicked and nothing happened, indicating it was empty of rounds. The female grabbed something in her pockets and that delay was just enough for Tichinde to finally free his blades, and punch her in the gut. She doubled over and coughed up a few droplets of red liquid before she was picked up by the throat, fighting as Tichinde squeezed.

"You stupid cunt!" Tichinde growled, "You should have stayed down!"

Dachande growled, more of the fact that Tichinde has a point . . . the ooman took too long to finish the killing blow and then stood there in the open, a classic mistake that always proves deadly. What a waste.

He awaited Tichinde to finish off the ooman and closed his eyes for a split second until hearing the echoed cries of a wounded Yautja. Dachande looked back and was surprised to see the smaller female had returned to the fight and stabbed the spear into Tichinde's torso, twisting the blade and using all her might to cut across until it was freed.

Tichinde howled and it was clear that he was beyond pissed, throwing the older female away and directing his rage at the other by rushing with his blades out to the sides. Dachande sighed, awaiting the final moment he would see the ooman and how painful it was to see the glimmer of potential in this weak vanish within seconds under a Bad Blood. But better than wasting the potential on one that isn't worthy . . .

Really? Is that what you think?

Dachande blinked his eyes. What was that? He weakly rubbed his head, feeling the cold sweat over his hot skin. Must be the blood loss . . .

Tichinde striked with a twist of his torso to move the blades in an uppercut slash, effective use to disarm an opponent quickly while the ooman stood still.

Dachande growled. Move!

As if time stood still, the ooman reacted fast and whipped her head in a circular motion, evading the blades by inches and then spinning her body until the spear cut deep and across Tichinde's chest. He'd never seen his former pupil so rabid and out of his mind, losing any sense of reason he still had left that gave him the upper hand. Now . . . it was the ooman winning and Tichinde took the brunt force of his mistake.

The ooman blocked Tichinde with the shaft and twisted to throw Tichinde off balance, tumbling like a mere suckling who was just learning the basics and failing miserably at that. The female didn't hesitate to jam the spear into the Bad Blood's thighs with precision, cutting through the soft skin between the hard scales and severing the tendons. With a single move, Tichinde was almost as powerless as an insect.

Within a second, the tide in the fight had changed in the female's favor unnaturally. Dachande couldn't believe it was the same ooman standing before him, the one who was clumsy, inexperienced, and barely able to hold his bhrak against the Bad Blood a minute ago. He expected the ooman would be dead by now along with the other female and himself.

Now . . . Tichinde was under her mercy, she was the predator . . . hunting for her prize who was crawling on his knees in an attempt to get away. Dachande watched the female and chills suddenly went down his spine when he looked into her eyes, pupils dilated and showing nothing but disdain and anger.

She was a different being now. Wow . . .

But of course, being a Bad Blood, Tichinde had one last-ditch effort to save his skin. He pulled out a handheld burner and pointed at Dachande's forehead, "Don't come any closer, ooman! Or he's dead!"

Tichinde chuckled when the ooman took a step back and froze in her spot even though she didn't show any emotions in reaction to this. Dachande hissed, groaning when he shifted his weight, "Always using excuses to survive. Don't even have the courtesy to keep fighting."

Tichinde puffed like a toad, "You gave me no choice. From the moment you humiliated me, I did what was necessary to survive. If I had followed your ways, I would be nothing but a corpse!"

The Bad Blood turned for a second at Dachande, hatred was all he could see in those bloody eyes, "You're the weak one. And I'm going to prove it!"

Tichinde was about to pull the trigger but the next thing anyone knew, his arm was sliced clean off, dropping the burner and causing it to fire in the air. Dachande held his breath as Tichinde roared, holding the remainder of his arm while it squirted and oozed green blood continuously before his body was kicked away like a rag doll.

The ooman female walked at a steady and purposeful stride while Tichinde gurgled and twitched as he lay on the ground helplessly. Once again, Tichinde clawed toward his burner that was still being held by his severed arm but the female swatted the weapon and then proceeded to kick him when the Bad Blood roared in retaliation. His mask detached and stumbled until landing a few feet away from Dachande.

Tichinde hissed and reached for her with his claws but met with the blade of the spear stabbed through his forearm. He howled as the ooman pulled it out and stepped on his chest, the blade pressing in the middle above his heart. Everyone knows that the game is up.

"You pathetic cunt," Tichinde growled, "I won't be killed by a mere ooman like you."

The female paused as Tichinde continued, "Just you wait. Death will come to all in the end. Cetanu will have your skull."

For the longest time, no one dared to speak, waiting for the female to respond to Tichinde's threats. Dachande held in a breath despite his body struggling for it, his heart beating fast as if he was a Young Blood about to be seriously reprimanded.

Suddenly, the female lowered her head closer, her eyes fixated on Tichinde, "Thei-de es h're."

Dachande felt his blood run cold along with his extremities. The ooman not only spoke in their native tongue as if she's spoken it all her life but the statement was familiar. What did she say?

Tichinde was also shaking but it was short-lived as the anger came over, "Whatever you're doing, it won't—"

"Shut up."

The female brought the spear down and the blade went through Tichinde's skull like it was butter, splitting it in half so that brain matter pooled out and spread on the nearby ground. The Bad Blood's body twitched and spasmed, a clawed hand raised to the female before it dropped and didn't move any longer.

Tichinde was dead and Dachande was glad for it but part of him was disappointed and ashamed. Being that he was once his pupil and showed such promise, he fell into the darkness and there was no going back. This was the result of those who strayed from the Path . . . a deplorable death. Shame.

Dachande turned from the dead Bad Blood and to the female who stood over the corpse as if proud although she didn't show it on her pale face. She stepped over the corpse and walked toward him, spear still in her hands. Is she coming for me?

Suddenly, his vision grew foggy and blurred in and out of focus, the cold began to seep into his chest and his lungs were failing him as the toxic air was starting to take effect. Normally, Yautja can breathe in certain atmospheres for a short while without the mask but given he was already bleeding out and weak from his injuries, he was lucky he lasted this long.

But his biomask was gone and he didn't have much time left. Is it time?

As Dachande went in and out of consciousness, he still could see the outline of the female coming toward him, scooping the Bad Blood's biomask and coming closer to his face with it.

No way! Dachande growled. There's no way I'm going to wear something belonging to a Bad Blood. I would rather die than—

Mei'hswei . . .

Dachande froze, the familiar voice still echoed and he couldn't move as the female came closer. Whether he was close to death or something else, his vision of her kept changing. One minute it was her and then the next second, he swore that he was seeing a Yautja, one with gold streaks on the skin that he recognized right away.

"Nei'hman-de . . ."

Dachande closed his eyes until the last thing he remembered was the inside of the mask covering him until the abyss took his pain, his worries, and his hidden fear until nothing remained, waiting for Cetanu to take him away.

Hello, my fellow hunters and huntresses!

Hope everyone is well. A new chapter for HAA is finally posted and much is to be speculated from Dachande's point of view. What happened between Tichinde and him? How did an ooman female take down a Bad Blood?

And a big question: What happened to Neera to change that much? What was Dacahnde seeing? Or was he near death?

So much to find out! And don't worry . . . more is to come but can't help but leave cliffhangers lol.

Good Hunting to all and can't wait to hear from all of you. Thank you for the support! :)))))

Enjoy! :DDDDDD

(P.S. Just a curious fact, the title Moribund (Latin) means 'near death' and is very appropriate for this chapter ;))

Normal = Human speaking human language

Normal and Italics = Human speaking Yautja language

Bold and Italic = Yautja speaking Yautja language

Awu'asa = Armor

Bhrak = Spear

Cetanu = God of Death

Dhi'ki = unconsciousness

Mei'hswei = Brother

Nan-de than gaun = Kiss of Midnight (No mercy)

Suckling = infant Yautja (before prior training to Young Blood)

Thei-de es h're = Death is here