The smell of rotting flesh was perhaps one of the worst things a nose could experience, a stench so powerful that it seemed to make one's lungs lose their breath... but Peter had got used to it by now, the battlefields had been known to become veritable banquets for all kinds of hungry creatures... and the spectacle before him was no less, the plain was now covered in the various bodies of the factions that had faced each other, the trees were now burnt and had turned a charcoal black colour and were smoking upwards, creating a pressing cloud in the sky; Peter was hidden between rows of trees that had not yet been reached by the flames and he could see stray dogs and groups of ghouls fighting over the slaughtered bodies.
Peter narrowed his eyes as he stared at the creatures, or more precisely at the ones he could use to go unnoticed, it wasn't that he was afraid of dogs and ghouls... It wasn't that he was afraid of dogs and ghouls, it was simply that the stench of ghoul blood was terrible... and almost impossible to wash off clothes and armour; suddenly one of the ghouls ripped open the stomach of one of the dogs, spilling its innards onto the ground, but its companions reacted instantly, especially a particularly large one that bit the ghoul's throat, sending it to mush and severing its head clean off, from there a fight broke out between the dogs and the ghouls and they began to slaughter each other... even each other.
Peter smiled under his helmet and sprinted at supernatural speed, he would have to cross the whole battlefield if he wanted to avoid even the evening patrols and get to the city without being seen, the terrain made it very difficult, as there were so many corpses that in some places there were small plains of decomposed and mangled bodies; he never forgot to keep in line of fire the groups of dogs and ghouls that were facing each other "Well done, keep it up" Peter said in a low voice, he made a superhuman leap, stepping over a destroyed catapult that was blocking the way.
He had now passed the middle of the field, but he could feel that the fight behind him was coming to an end... and in favour of the ghouls; suddenly Peter felt a vibration at the base of his skull and stopped short as two ghouls erupted from the corpses in front of him, scattering limbs and entrails in all directions.
Peter cursed internally; in front of him were not two normal ghouls, but alghouls, who, unlike their subordinates, were stronger, smarter, faster and could secrete a sticky and extremely toxic substance from their skin, the colours were similar to those of a ghoul, pink and red, with deformed and bubbly skin, but with thorns on their backs of a dark blue-black colour.
Peter raised one of its arms and with a movement of his fingers, activated a mechanism and A dart was thrown from his wrist, forcing its way into the eye of one of the alghouls, the creature's head snapped back and it made a cackling noise that Peter thought was pain, the other snapped forward, opening its mouth unnaturally wide, exposing rows and rows of rotten, yellow teeth that created a mincer's tunnel, one of its legs was shorter than the others and its hand looked more like a stump with jagged bone protruding from it.
Peter dodged by leaping sideways and landing on top of a wooden structure that was still stable, he dislodged a rotten beam and hurled it at the alghoul, the piece of wood lodged in the alghoul's side and knocked him to the ground, without wasting any more time, Peter shifted his attention to the other alghoul who was still recovering from the dart, Peter narrowed his eyes and pulled a long, cardboard black bladed sword from his side, with blood red runes engraved on it; Peter took another leap and with a swift and precise slash, split the alghoul's head in half, blood erupted from the open head and settled on Peter's chest "Let's go" Peter groaned with annoyance in his tone as he drew his sword, he only had time to turn around, when-
"HEEEEEEEEEH!"
An agonised howl could be heard throughout the battlefield and much to Peter's annoyance, drew the other ghouls who were still feeding on the wild dogs, they immediately sprinted towards their leader, the alghoul, on the other hand, fell to the ground, having by now exhausted his strength, since the piece of wood that Peter had thrown at him had also contributed to opening his stomach and spilling his organs, he fell to the ground dead.
Peter sprinted in the opposite direction of the ghouls, as he moved with agility between the corpses of the soldiers, he could hear the ghouls' cries behind him, he didn't even deign to look over his shoulder, because of the terrain and the bodies, it was difficult for him to make full use of his speed, but he knew he was putting more and more distance between himself and the monsters... as soon as he got to those trees he would definitely lose them.
He was almost there and the ghouls were getting farther and farther away, he looked over his shoulder briefly and noticed that some of the ghouls had given up and were turning back "Mhm... strange" Peter thought narrowing his eyes, usually ghouls had the attention span of a child, they would have lost interest in prey immediately... but some of the ghouls were advancing, without even the slightest hint of tiredness.
Peter took another superhuman leap and landed on one of the thicker branches of a tree, the branch trembled slightly from the weight of the man in armour, he continued to leap between the trees, making sure to use the thicker branches... with his hearing he could still hear the cries of the ghouls and the indistinguishable sound of claws scratching the wood of the trees.
Peter opened his eyes slightly wide "They're climbing... what the fuck?" Peter cursed to himself, why were they so persistent, to his great misfortune he had encountered the most persistent ghouls on the continent, Peter landed on the ground staining his armoured boots of mud, then sprinted forward at great speed, climbing over rocks and roots that had deformed and dug upwards, creating annoying obstacles.
Peter continued to run, he could now hear the cries getting farther and farther away, he then saw a cliff ahead and smiled under his helmet, he continued to advance until, having reached the edge, he made a supernatural leap, which sent him over the other side, he landed, digging his boots lightly into the ground; Peter turned and to his surprise, through the trees, he could see the group approaching "You've tired me" Peter hissed as he raised his arm and triggered the mechanism, another bolt erupted and crashed into the head of a ghoul who had just landed on a branch, the blow knocked him off balance and he fell to the ground.
Peter then shifted his aim to the other ghoul and hit him in the paw, the dart was powerful enough to rip the paw from the rest of his body, the ghoul made a real sound of pain as he fell forward... much to Peter's surprise, the other ghouls stopped a few paces from the cliff and made a few sounds as they spun around like hounds.
Peter stared at them for a few moments of silence, this was really strange, few times had he seen simple ghouls like this... careful and stubborn and they wouldn't stop spinning him with what Peter swore was almost hatred, after a few more seconds they made a few more noises at him and then turned and got lost in the trees; Peter stared at the now empty spot, then shook his head, turned and continued running towards his destination.
...
It did not take Peter long to arrive in the city, it was not too big and overlooked the sea, in fact it was a city that lived mainly thanks to the naval trade and fishing; being a fundamental trading point and above all militarily strategic, it possessed defences that could not be underestimated, the stone walls had catapults and cannons, accompanied by raiders and crossbowmen.
Peter was now climbing up, clinging to the smooth walls in an unnatural way, it was now nightfall and from the angle Peter could see the lights of the torches illuminating the completely dark view... not that Peter had had any trouble finding his way around, Peter continued to climb calmly, wanting to make as little noise as possible; from the increasingly audible voices, Peter could tell that there were at least five guards present, not counting those who had probably been silent up to that moment or those who had fallen asleep during the night patrol.
"I hate working the night shift," one of the guards commented rudely; from his voice Peter could tell he was quite young.
"you must not like it" a hoarse voice replied to the comment with slight annoyance "by the gods, don't start with that again today" this one was definitely older.
Peter was now at their feet, clinging to the wall and completely immobile, Peter had over the years honed the art of 'Waiting for the right moment', he would have waited there for hours on end, maybe even until the sun came up if it allowed him to pass unobserved, he could still hear them conversing, more about their wives and wages "I guess military life still doesn't pay what it should" Peter thought with a grim smile under his helmet.
Slowly Peter began to move to the side, making sure to make as little noise as possible, the only audible sounds were the light clanking of his armour as he touched the stone, when he had moved far enough he climbed to the end and leaned his head out to observe the situation.
The group consisted of the number of soldiers Peter would have expected, there were six of them and they surrounded a small ruined wooden table, on which there were some dice and gold coins, he then shifted his gaze to the other side, fortunately there was only a few prisoners or gunners, Peter narrowed his eyes and then climbed over the edge and landed silently on the stone floor, fortunately the torches were few and dimly lit the area, allowing Peter to hide perfectly.
Without wasting any time Peter approached the other edge of the walls and looked down, Peter smiled when he saw a building high enough and close enough that he could land without making too much noise; he did not bother to take a run-up, jumped straight in and landed on the tiles of the roof, which groaned under Peter's weight, he looked over his shoulder for a moment, making sure that no one had seen him, ascertained that he was free to move, and began to jump between the roofs of the city, making sure to jump on those that seemed to be in better condition.
Peter left the ledge and landed on the street, breaking the stony ground beneath his feet, he turned towards a darkened alley and stepped into it, making sure to take a look at his surroundings, he saw a beggar lying with his back against the wall and with a holey blanket covering him from the cold air, he could see that between the breaches he held a rusty tin, in which he most likely kept the little money he had earned in a day of begging.
Peter then turned right into another alley, which was almost totally shrouded in darkness, except for the dim lights of a local, from which muffled voices could still be heard, Peter approached the entrance, the door was a wine-red colour with emerald green details, above it was a sign in good condition, the form of a woman with horns, generous breasts and hips, and lying on a couch, Underneath it was written 'Pleasures and Sins' the name of the brothel.
Peter opened the door and in front of him, despite the hour there was still a good flow of people, mostly drunks struggling to stand and prostitutes hoping to tap every coin they had on them, he could see patches of drinks spilled on the floor and at one corner of the vomit room.
No one seemed to notice the new presence and Peter moved amongst the people making their way back and forth in the hall, decked out with several tables and sofas, occupied by multitudes of people, amongst them Peter could even see other races, including elves, dwarves, orcs and even a few tieflings "Mhm... I see they keep up to date with people's increasingly particular tastes" Peter thought as he stepped over a drooling man lying on the ground; Peter stopped at the bar and sat down on a vacant stool "Give me some wine... bitter" Peter said to the bartender, who had just finished pouring whiskey to a customer who could barely stand, he was an orc with rather pronounced areas and thick well defined arms, Peter was slightly surprised, bartending was not the classic job of an orc... especially one so tall and bulky.
"Right away" the deep, rough voice of the female orc came out, she turned and picked up one of the bottles on top "I have the one from the southern lands"
"Alright" Peter replied to her as he pulled out a bag of coins and pulled out several "give me all of it" Peter said to the orc as he lazily looked around, everyone seemed to be busy with a prostitute or more, to his right however was a man with his head resting on the balcony, stained with a few drops of blood, Peter narrowed his eyes and looked at the barmaid with mild amusement "I guess the dickhead raised his hands" he said with a final snort of amusement.
The ogre, who was pouring into Peter's glass froze for a moment and smiled slightly "He thought I was on the square"
Peter shook his head "Poor bastard... although I must say he does have refined taste" Peter commented with a smirk as he cast a brief glance at the orc woman's arms, they were really well defined.
The woman with the protruding fangs blinked, surprised by Peter's compliment and Peter could swear he could see the briefest of blushes "Thanks... I guess" she said as she left the bottle on the table and waved to him "All set... and if you need anything else just give me a holler" and without adding anything else she walked away, going to serve other customers.
Peter stared at her with a slight smile, when suddenly something hit him in the chest and he brought his hand to his chest and gritted his teeth, his hand began to tremble slightly, after a few seconds the trembling stopped and Peter let out a sigh of relief; Peter took off his helmet, his skin was pale, with small scars, one large one going from one side of his neck to the other, the eyes were hazel, accompanied by messy brown hair and beard, the hair, which had not been cut in some time, almost reached the shoulders, The left eyebrow had a hook-shaped scar facing outwards.
Peter took the glass in his hands and took a long sip of the wine, closed his eyes and let out a quiet sigh... the wine was damn good "Funny how a brothel has better wines than one of those damn fancy restaurants" Peter thought as he tapped his fingers on the counter, occasionally glancing at the waitress, who never failed to leave him with a polite smile... maybe if he drank enough, he could-
Peter stopped himself from that thought and growled with slight anger as he smacked the side of his head "Enough" he said to himself in a low voice; suddenly out of the corner of his eye he saw a person staring at him from the second floor, he was dressed in the common clothes of an average citizen and was carrying a cloak which covered his head Peter could only smile and give him a little nod.
The figure stared at him for a few more moments then retracted and entered one of the rooms, Peter shook his head and then took the glass in one hand and the bottle in the other "I have someone waiting for me upstairs, I'll bring the glass back" he got up from his stool and headed towards the staircase, he didn't even hear what the orc said as suddenly the guards entered the room, slamming the door loudly, Peter moved quickly and was not seen as he reached the second floor.
One of the rooms was ajar and Peter could see a person inside, Peter approached, threw open the door and entered, closing it behind him.
"You're late"
The feminine but gruff voice made itself known in the room... Peter with a smile turned to the woman shorter than him and bowed his head to the side "Forgive me darling... I've been on the scenic route" he moved his face to one of the chairs in the room and sat down in it, setting down his glass and bottle his table next to it, which overlooked the open window, exposing the pleasant coastal landscape "You said you wanted a clean job" Peter replied lazily as he emptied his glass and quickly refilled it with more wine.
The woman froze and stared him straight in the eye, she pulled her hood down and Peter had to restrain himself from wincing, his black hair looked more messy than usual and shoulder-length, while those emerald green eyes looked more tired and half-closed "Clean? You cut that asshole's head and then hacked dozens of soldiers to pieces."
Peter shrugged, only to take another sip "it was easy to get in, get out instead... well, that's another story"
The woman gritted her teeth and then moved closer to him, which made him stiffen and to adjust his posture "You also broke the neck of the slave girl he was fucking... what the fuck got into you?"
Peter smiled slightly "Now she's lecturing me... you of all people... Wolverine's damn daughter is lecturing me" he shook his head, his tone was steeped in annoyance, he rubbed his forehead and then took another gulp "You asked me for help and I answered... even though I shouldn't have from what I can see"
The woman narrowed her eyes and then growled... and by the gods, that growl managed to work its way into Peter's bones "I was worried" she told him through clenched teeth "I haven't seen you in YEARS, you son of a bitch"
Peter opened his mouth to speak when a loud banging at the door interrupted them both "OPEN THIS DOOR IMMEDIATELY!" a furious voice shouted from behind the door.
Peter narrowed his eyes as he slowly rose from his chair and put on his helmet, then drew his sword from his back, the runes glowed red, he cast a brief glance at the woman "Do you want to do the honours?"
Laura growled at him as she removed her cloak, exposing her simple robes, from her knuckles erupted two bony claws "Fuck you"
Peter grinned under his helmet, only to approach the door and jerk it open, the soldier, probably in his early thirties, couldn't even react, the sword thrust directly into his chest, his eyes widened and he coughed blood as he tried to reach Peter, Peter narrowed his eyes as he swung the sword upwards, ripping the guard's upper torso and head in half, the erupted erupted like a volcano, fouling Peter and the hallway.
Peter heard Laura's grunt behind him as she passed him, he cast a brief glance at the man almost split in half and then wiggled his nose as if sniffing like a bloodhound "two down and five more out... one of them is a shifter"
"And here I thought they were being hunted like the plague... like all the other non-humans" Peter said as he closed his eyes and inhaled, all of a sudden the blood on the floor, on the walls and on Peter's armour, they began to converge towards the blade, more precisely towards the red runes, as the blood began to enter the runes, they glowed brighter and brighter, a red aura was created around the sword, and then spread over Peter's body.
Laura was staring at him with concern as she took a few steps away from Peter... a stony silence fell between the two of them, until a dark chuckle came out of Peter's mouth, which made Laura's skin crawl, her lenses and the symbol on her chest seemed to glow a ruby red and the sword was now an equally red colour.
Laura opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when Peter passed her, slamming into her shoulder, he descended the stairs very calmly and with his sword cut through the wall, lightly incinerating the stone, Laura followed close behind.
"Who might you be? And where is John?" the metaphor asked with a loud snort, he had taken the mighty form of a minotaur, had black fur and two serrated, grey-coloured horns.
Peter chuckled, reached the end of the stairs and sprung his body, curving his body like a beast "Why don't you go and check?" he asked in a rough voice as he swung his sword from side to side.
The minotaur narrowed his eyes as the other man in heavy armour moved to his side holding a heavy axe in his hands which had blue-coloured serrations, the armour was a brilliant white with gold trim, the helmet completely covered the face, but Peter could bet it was an orc; Peter turned his head behind him and saw the orc woman who had served him standing there with an ugly bruise on her face, her gaze was furious and the veins poked out of her arms "A berserker" Peter thought with a smirk, he then turned back to the metaphor "Why don't you bring your friends in there too. ... I don't want them to miss the show"
He could feel the look of anger directed at him from Laura, he then heard the orc woman step over the counter and stop beside Peter, she spat out a glob of blood and then cracked her knuckles "Please do it"
The minotaur stared at them for a few seconds of silence, to grunt "You are under arrest for the death of high-ranking member of our army... surrender and no harm will come to you"
Peter emitted a deep laugh as he rested his sword on his shoulder "Like I'm really afraid of you... you're not even worth my right testicle"
The minotaur stared at them for a few moments and then pulled his head back and-
"ARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHH!"
The mighty scream shattered the nearby glassware and windows, a few moments later, through the front door came pouring men, all had weapons of different types and from what Peter could hear, they were practitioners of magic "More blood to spill... good" Peter said in a deep voice and Laura swore she could hear someone else in there, like a demon burrowing into his soul and melting into his voice, all of a sudden the lights emanating from the candles began to dim, as if something was sucking the light out, leaving more and more emptiness.
Laura didn't even have time to move, Peter sprinted forward towards the minotaur with his sword now burning with an intense light, the minotaur raised his hands, exposing silver bracelets on which were set jewels of blue chloride, Peter narrowed his eyes as a blue coloured barrier formed around the shifter, emitting small lightning bolts.
Peter smiled maniacally beneath his mask as he raised his sword and struck the barrier.
ZZZZZZZRRRRRRRRHHH!
A faint reddish-blue shockwave blinded the others for a few moments, but Laura was the first to recover and leapt at a spear-wielding soldier, who only had time to blink before being speared in the gullet by Laura's bony claws; the ogre-woman, on the other hand, let out a scream and threw herself at two soldiers sheltering behind an overturned table, tore it in half with her bare hands and grabbed one of them by the neck, who tried to struggle, the other tried to hit her in the stomach, but received in response such a powerful kick that it shattered his nose and sent him crashing against the stone wall.
Peter growled and was about to strike again, but a vibration in the back of his skull made him flinch, just in time for the axe to stick in the floor, Peter turned to the man in heavy armour and tried to plunge the sword into his head, but the other man raised his hand, causing it to stick in his palm and stop inches from his face, Peter rotated his arm to move and with speed unleashed a violent punch, so powerful that it bent his helmet and caused the man to lose his grip on the axe, he backed away a few steps and then stopped and raised his arm Peter ducked when he felt his sixth sense once more, the axe flew over his head and came to rest between the bleeding hands of the mighty knight.
Peter looked over his shoulder and saw the minotaur summoning a shining spear in his hands "I feel it... your soul" the deep voice said with slight concern "There is something corrupt"
Peter chuckled as ruby red flames grew on his arms "You have no idea" and without adding anything else he hurled his sword at the minotaur, who ducked, too bad it got stuck in the head of the archer who was about to shoot an arrow towards the orc woman who had just snapped the neck of the man in her hands.
Peter let out a grim chuckle as he lunged towards the knight, who raised his axe to strike him, but Peter blocked it with one hand, much to the knight's surprise, and yanked him towards himself, the violent blow in the face bent the helmet inwards, even breaking it in places, a groan of pain escaped from the armour and dark satisfaction pervaded Peter as he heard the sound of breaking bones, he struck him again, but this time in the chest "Weak twig, I can feel how fragile your bones are" Peter hissed darkly as he continued to strike the knight, who managed to parry some of the attacks.
Peter felt the vibration again and without even wading stopped a luminescent spear that was about to pierce his head with his hand, Peter gritted his teeth slightly when he felt the divine light touch him, Peter turned his body and with one elbow struck the minotaur.
POOM!
The blow broke one of the horns and stunned the shifter, who recoiled back holding his head and snorting in rage, the spear dissolved from his hands, Peter was about to attack him again, but was interrupted by Laura who leapt over the minotaur and stabbed him in the back with her claws, her arms dripping with blood as she scattered the shifter's blood as she flailed like a madman.
Peter laughed internally as he saw the orc woman pull Peter's sword from the soldier's head and use it to stab another directly in the chest, then crush his head with her boot, splattering his brains on the wall; Peter gave her a thumbs up "Not bad... you definitely know how to move" he complimented as he dodged a blow from the knight, although by now his blows were much less precise, Peter blocked a blow, then blocked his arm with one hand and grabbed his elbow with the other.
CRACK!
Peter could feel the bone breaking and took the opportunity to pounce on him and hit him again and again in the face, which was now a shapeless heap of bent and broken metal, he grabbed the two extreme sides of the helmet and-
TRHM!
Finally the knight's face was revealed and Peter froze for a moment, in front of him was a hairless face, completely shaven and with his lips and eyes sewn shut.
"Ohhh... we have a doomed man" Peter commented darkly as he wrapped his neck and squeezed it "Any last words?" he asked with dark amusement.
The other man merely moved his chapped lips stitched together and made some strange noises "As I thought" he sank his hands down his throat, digging into the skin muscles and reaching up to touch the bones, the man merely shuddered in what Peter thought was excruciating pain, he pulled his arm back, taking most of the cola with him and exposing the neck bone.
Peter narrowed his eyes as he stared at the much darker, almost black blood gushing out like a waterfall... it even emitted a foul-smelling odour, similar to ghouls, albeit in a lesser form; Peter rose from atop the now-passed body and turned around just in time to catch a Laura that had been thrown towards him by the minotaur, Laura was dripping with blood, especially on her chest and arms, Peter chuckled as he pushed her away, much to her annoyance, and stared at the minotaur, who was panting deeply, with blood dripping from his back and neck, Peter smiled as he glanced at his friend "Clean as always" Peter commented.
Laura growled at him and gave him the middle finger "Fuck you dickhead" she then turned to the shifter, who had just manifested a spear of light in his hands and had repositioned himself, ready to fight again... although Peter could see the body pendant "Give up... you can leave and we won't attack you"
"Please don't do that... I really want to have some more fun" Peter commented behind Laura's back, who turned sharply pointed her bloody claws at him and hissed.
"Shut that sewer... or I'll shut it for you" Peter knew it wasn't an empty threat, she wouldn't try to kill him... but she would definitely try to stab him.
Meanwhile the female ogre had approached Peter and Laura with her sword in her hands, her boot still had bits of brains stuck to it and the bruise had taken on a purplish hue, she stared at them for a few moments then shook her head and brought her attention to the minotaur, who was increasingly staggering.
Peter turned his shoulders "Ok champion of justice... offer the enemy to surrender" he told her, crossing his arms over his chest.
Laura emitted a deep sigh of irritation, he looked at the minotaur "You are badly injured, you can barely stand, and the man behind me will take nothing but pleasure in tearing out your insides... please surrender"
The shifter stared at her for a few moments of silence, then gritted his teeth, he took a few steps forward while pointing the luminous spear forward.
Peter smiled, yanked Laura to the side and charged forward with the flaming ruby-red sword, the minotaur simply narrowed his eyes, by now his energy was practically exhausted and he realised it would be impossible to dodge.
Peter pierced the minotaur's thick neck, the spear struck empty, Peter twisted the blade as the minotaur merely shuddered uncontrollably, he coughed a goal of blood directly into Peter's covered face; with a swift sideways motion he severed his neck, leaving his head attached to the rest of his body only by a small amount of skin and muscle.
The minotaur fell backwards, creating a thunderous noise, the body was slowly returning to its original state, Peter stared at it for a few seconds and then turned to Laura, who was checking to see if the orc woman had any serious injuries, she then stared at Peter and narrowed her eyes at him "We have to go" she said as she motioned for the orc to follow her "This place will be full of guards in a moment" she made sure to collide with his shoulder.
Peter chuckled and then shook his head and followed her.
...
Peter didn't know why he had agreed to help Laura, it had been years since he had taken it upon himself to avoid all those he would have called friends, even those who were part of his own family, whether they had the same blood as him or not... but then why had he agreed, why had he agreed to kill a man just for the cause of another person.
Laura had changed, not too much, that wild spirit of hers, the snarls and the flirtless mouth had remained... she was still shorter than him and they didn't fail to insult each other, but her principles... something had matured, had evolved into a far more complex form, Peter could never believe he could see Laura caring about anyone other than her own family or the few friends she had decided to trust.
Peter smiled slightly at the thought, he could still remember it, it had all started with a stupid cinnamon biscuit, he had stolen it from the kitchens and thought he was going to consume it himself, but under that table, he had found Laura motionless staring at an empty spot in space... a stupid biscuit had allowed him to enter the innermost sphere of that woman to whom he could have entrusted his own life... or at least once.
Watching his close friend become more aware and mature in her convictions caused him no emotion whatsoever, for him it was something he would forget about the next day... perhaps he had finally reached the point of no return, he had finally become completely detached from the problems of others... he had finally become a mindless piece of shit to the core.
Peter shook his head and leaned forward, reflecting his face in the clear water, the moon gave a pleasant lunar glow and the small pond could have been perfect to capture in a painting... maybe watercolours would have been perfect, Peter shook his head, scooped up some water and splashed his face, his hair stuck to his forehead and the drops fell down to his chest, then fell back into the water.
Peter closed his eyes and touched his chest, he rubbed an X-shaped scar located in the centre of his chest, it had strange shades of black, as if it had never really healed, despite the years that had passed, he could still feel that indistinguishable sense of innate cold.
Suddenly he heard a noise, it sounded like a twig being swept, then he also heard regular breathing... and for him it was definitely indistinguishable, Peter turned his torso and saw Laura at the foot of the pond, she was staring at him with narrowed eyes and clenched jaw... that look, it had been years since he could admire it, he couldn't help but admit it, she continued to be one of the most beautiful living beings he had ever laid eyes on, her hair black as night, which Peter, in his innermost thoughts, really wanted to touch again. ... and those green eyes, cold as a beast's, but capable of unnatural kindness; Peter smiled and turned fully towards his dear old friend "You can come and have a bath... I certainly wouldn't mind" he crossed his arms over his chest
Laura clenched her hands into fists, she was scrutinising and plucking at him as if he were any vegetable, every aspect of his soul being put under a magnifying glass "Who are you?" the question came out like an arrow shot, fast and without hesitation in tone.
Peter bent his head to the side, slightly confused by the question "You know very well, why should I repeat it?" It wasn't like Laura to ask even vaguely cryptic questions.
Laura stared at him for a few moments and then took several steps towards him, the water rising higher and higher until it was almost touching her breasts, her hard gaze never leaving Peter's eyes, stopping practically under the man's chin, her sigh clashing with Peter's jaw "Who are you?"
Peter narrowed his eyes, why did she keep repeating that? Couldn't she make her usual gruff comments? Couldn't they just have a drink together and go their separate ways? Hoping it was also their last meeting until one of them died... why did she have to ask him that question now? "You know who I am" Peter repeated through clenched teeth.
Laura stared at him for a few more moments with the same gaze, but then she suddenly calmed down and lowered her gaze to his chest, still covered by Peter's strong arms, and rested her hand on her friend's wrist.
Peter winced at the unexpected contact, he had expected a punch, maybe even a claw in the stomach... but not this strangely gentle touch, it seemed even more painful to him "Let go of me" Peter said in a distant voice, he tried to back away, but Laura's grip was firm, stuck like a desperate man to a rock in the middle of a storm.
Laura continued to stare at the chest covered by her arms "Let me see" was clear, an order that didn't admit no for an answer, although the tone seemed much more... gentle.
Who was this woman? It was still Laura, but there was something different, as if that uragan of negative emotions had been completely harnessed... even if she still left a trail of destruction behind her; how he wanted to say no to her, to see her reaction, to see if she would still pull out her claws to note his seriousness, but he couldn't, his tongue couldn't formulate that simple yet powerful pearl... Peter sighed, then removed his arms.
Laura's expression did not change, and without a word, she stretched out her arm towards the scar that was in the centre of her chest, her finger ran across the healed but darkened skin, she then looked up... by the gods, what was that look, was it concern for the complexion? Was it anger at his behaviour? Or was it simple happiness at having finally seen him again? Perhaps it was all these things fused together… and Peter had to admit that he was terrified, not that fear of dying, that was long gone... but that primal fear of the stranger, that doubt that grips your soul and suffocates you for your whole existence.
"You're a fucking idiot" Laura said.
Peter felt like he was struck by lightning, it wasn't anything in particular... but the way she said it, there was something wrong with that tone, Peter didn't know how to identify it, Laura was staring at him with what looked like... nostalgia.
Laura then suddenly broke away from him, creating a gap between them, she scratched her hand for a few seconds and then sighed and turned away, she stepped out of the water, she didn't even deign to cast him a glance "I'll leave you the money I promised you tomorrow morning"
Peter stared at her in silence for a few moments, contemplating whether he really should have said something to her, a simple "it's been a pleasure" or even some kind words... but should he even speak to her? He had promised himself he would never meet her again, but he couldn't resist his need to see her... he wanted to do it again, he wanted to look at her one more time, to smell her indistinguishable scent of whiskey and dried blood.
"Laura" Peter said in a slightly rough voice, he touched his mouth in annoyance... why did he open his mouth? Why did he have to do that?!
Laura paused for a moment, not staring at him, she remained with her body tense "What?" she asked in her classic gruff tone... though Peter could hear the faintest hint of surprise in her tone.
Peter swallowed a croak in his throat and scratched the back of his neck, he had to hide his trembling fingers from Laura's view... though he suspected she had noticed him anyway, he shook his head and gritted his teeth "Forget it" he turned away and went back to washing his body.
He could hear Laura's faint growl behind him and footsteps moving away.
Peter stared at the palms of his hands, they were jagged with cuts and small burns, suddenly a wound in the centre of the palm of his left hand opened and blood began to ooze, Peter grimaced and tried to plug it with his other hand... but a strange feeling ran through his body and he pulled his hand away, the wound was now leaking what looked like pitch-black ink.
Peter stared at the liquid dripping and falling onto the water, staining the river more and more, the black substance seemed to expand in all directions and covered the whole area around him... suddenly a mass rose up from the puddle, creating a sinuous, lithe female figure, who had six red eyes on her shapeless face, and stared at him for a few moments before forming an eerie smile.
Peter clenched his hands into fists, then lowered his gaze "Enough" he growled like a rabid animal... and suddenly everything went back to normal, the black puddle disappeared and with it the disturbing figure.
Peter looked around for a few more moments, then decided to finally get out of the water... he had really lost the will to continue bathing.
...
The sun beat down on Peter's back, exposing him to a pleasant morning warmth, in his hands he held a coin-filled pouch, In his other hand, he held a small bottle, the inside of which contained a golden-coloured liquid that emitted a few sparkles from time to time, on the neck of the container was a note attached with 'Sleep potion... for nightmares' written on it; it was definitely Laura's handwriting, he had never seen such a crooked 'G'; Peter stared at the bottle for a few more seconds, then opened his small saddlebag at the side and threw the bottle inside.
Peter paused for a moment to look at the spots where the curtains of Laura and the female ogre whose name Peter had asked for were placed... they had left without even saying goodbye to him, Peter was annoyed by this, more by the fact that he had not heard them... his hearing had never failed him.
He should have expected it, what had happened last night hadn't turned out well, the look in Laura's eyes... when she had touched his chest, all the details of that look were vivid in his mind and he wouldn't easily forget it, Peter let out a grunt then turned and walked away.
"I don't need any help" Peter said forcefully to himself, as Laura had dared to put her mouth to HIS problems, his hands shook with anger "think about your fucking nightmares" Peter spat with scorn as he walked into a forest of thick trees that almost completely covered the sky "I bet you still dream about having better taste in booze" he continued talking to himself, he climbed over a fallen log with extreme agility despite his armour.
Peter barred his teeth, clenched his jaw, clenched his hand into a fist, and then snapped.
THROOM!
His fist crashed into a nearby tree, splinters flew in all directions and his fist dug into the wood, with a yank Peter pulled out the armoured prong and brushed away the shavings still attached to his glove, Peter then turned his head towards the hole made and could see several insects fleeing in all directions, alarmed by the powerful blow that had destroyed their home, for the briefest of moments he saw the shadows of the tree move abnormally
Peter grunted and then moved away and further into the dense forest, they were all maples with reddish-green leaves... eh, he always liked maples.
…
Hunger... what a powerful need, no one could survive without eating, everyone had to eat something, even the gods had to feed on something, even if it was the mere suffering of mortals; he was not mortal though, he had been chosen to bring back his species despised for years and hunted to near extinction.
A little family, the children were the tastiest... their soft flesh and innocent blood made their bodies an exclusive banquet for the most refined palates; his claws grew longer and sharper, his body screamed to feast, he craved blood and flesh... his mind seemed to transform into that of a beast.
"You are hungry... my son"a dark elderly voice made itself known behind him, it was weak, but could still be sensed raw power through decay "You, who risked your life for the greater good, deserve to feed... oh my son, you don't know how much your pain hurts me" the dark voice continued to speak.
He turned and stared at the severed and withered hand that rested resting against a rock, for the briefest of moments he seemed to move his little finger; the nails were now black and bore accumulated dirt "I am tasked to protect you until your ascension my lord... I cannot afford risks" he stared at the part where his arm was missing from above the elbow "And I have now lost much of myself"
"No my son, you are many more than you think... come closer, stretch out your hand to me... and I will show you the pleasures of true power, my dear Morbius" the dark voice said in an eloquent and calm tone.
Morbius stared at the hand for a few more seconds and then moved closer and reach out, when his fingers touched the mouldy hand, an electric shock hit him and for the briefest of moments, he felt the power that once belonged to him return for those thousandths of a second; Morbius stepped back and stared at his battered body with slight surprise, the horrific wounds on his battered body were slowly healing.
"Behold what not even an ounce of my power can give... show me that you are truly my son, show me your loyalty" Morbius stared at his hand for a few more seconds, then exposed his brand new fangs, he touched them, holding back tears… it had been years since his mouth had been so perfect, those canines were perfect for biting into the juicy flesh of men, and Morbius began to salivate, his hunger had returned with credible ferocity, he then felt a twinge of pain in his arm and lowered his gaze, where the stump was, bones, muscles and skin, were growing back at great speed.
Morbis then stared at the mummified hand and threw himself to the ground with his hands stretched forward "I WILL USE THIS MY GIFT TO THE BEST MY LORD!"
"Good... very good my son, then satiate, feed and feast like a king, not to lie who you are... an incredible being" the grim voice spoke darkly with what sounded like a final laugh.
Finally, blood would be shed in his honour.
…
Peter was never particularly fond of griffons, overgrown, arrogant and pretentious birds... as well as being terribly bloodthirsty, he once witnessed how those birds amused themselves with their poor victims, how they were torn apart and bled to death in the slowest way possible, Peter grimaced in annoyance at the memory, an entire platoon had been slaughtered with extreme ease and unfortunately it was Peter who had to do the research.
It was strange, however, that they were so bold in attacking a caravan on a busy road, in fact they didn't seem to particularly like men, either as snacks or as possible adversaries, the horse in front of him had been practically split in half, its innards strewn on the dirt road, one man was crouched on the opposite side of the road and was being helped by a few other people to tidy up his goods.
The wagon had been thrown towards a tree and splinters of wood had been scattered, injuring other people...and some killing them, including a child, Peter stared at the sobbing couple holding the motionless seven year old boy's body in their arms.
Peter clenched his jaw and averted his gaze, he returned his attention to the trader, who had just finished piling up the goods scattered all over the street due to the griffin attack, he had a decidedly expensive suit and from the colours and decorations, he could tell he was from the capital, he had a well-groomed little patch and a well-oiled handlebar moustache "Hey moustache"
The trader seemed offended by the words and was about to retort, but stopped when he saw who had called him that and looked away "Yes?"
Peter felt grim satisfaction in the other man's behaviour "How long has the griffon vulture been pestering these lands?" he asked, casting a glance at the beautiful flat landscape of cultivated fields and farms.
The trader scratched his chin thoughtfully, then raised his finger to the sky, recalling the requested information "For a few weeks now".
Peter smiled at the information, now he had another reason to go into town, as it had been weeks now that this griffon had been attacking people along the roads, he was sure that the army had already issued a contract to kill the creature... and Peter would make a pretty penny.
Peter turned around, without even saying goodbye to the trader, and walked towards his destination; the dirt road, to Peter's satisfaction, was flanked on both sides by several trees, tall and thick, which created pleasant areas of shade, sheltering from the beating sun shining high in the sky; as he walked at a leisurely pace and played with a silver coin with his fingers, he noticed how many people he passed, stared at him with looks of varying degrees of awe, especially at the black sword he carried behind his back.
His mind suddenly returned to Laura he had to restrain himself from snarling, a small part of him suspected that she was heading south, he could already imagine her on top of a mountain of corpses as she led the outcasts of society, he shook his head, still amazed at the change in his friend... his younger self could never believe that his long time friend would actually did a good deed for nothing in return, chaos however seemed to follow her... it seemed to be in her family's blood to follow chaos wherever it was.
"Boy... you look lost to me" an old, hoarse voice stopped Peter from his thoughts and even made him physically freeze, he turned around and saw an old beggar holding onto a cane, his back was hunched, his eyes were completely white, indicating that he was completely blind, although it could also be understood by the strange movements he made, his hair and beard were long and unkempt, all of which was accompanied by rags covering his gaunt build... he probably hadn't eaten a decent meal in years.
"Are you talking to me old man?" Peter asked bending his head to the side, he was intrigued by the beggar's strange words.
The old man smiled even more, exposing yellowed and even missing teeth, and handed Peter a bent and rusted metal container 'Lost souls deserve to be guided to the right path... I only ask you for one coin.
Peter stared at the jar for several seconds, you could meet all kinds of guys like that anywhere, smartasses who with catchphrases, would con you out of money... but usually they would have asked for more than one coin and would certainly have presented themselves in a much better way "Sure... why not?" Peter said, gesturing with his arms, opened his saddlebag and took out a bag, opened it and after taking out a coin, threw it into the container "Come on, show me you threw my money away," he said in a mocking tone.
The old man smiled and then closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, he squatted down and put down the container, he pointed his bony finger at him "All men have sinned, I can read it in your aura, you have committed so many sins, that you really believe you cannot rise from that dark hole you have fallen into, you believe your soul has been damaged beyond repair... you believe you are no longer even human... but is that really so? Are you really hopeless? These questions are unanswerable, not yet at least, but if you reopen your heart and soul to others, then you can regain what you have lost"
Peter blinked, stupefied by the beggar's words, stood in silence for several seconds, and then snorted and gave a little applause "Well done, you almost managed not to make me regret giving you that coin" he turned around giving him a final salute "Have a nice life old man"
The beggar stared at Peter walking away and when enough was enough, he shook his head "Oh Peter... this coin will turn out to be the best deal of your life"
Hi guys, sorry for the very long wait since my last update and a couple of things have happened, I even started university and the move was a real nightmare... after months I got back into the story I started and I have to say I'm really disappointed with where it was going and the awkward escapades I was inventing, this story is a reboot of that story... I decided to change a lot of things and I hope you have the will to start again... forgive me.