By the time I had fled the armed camp, my captor's had rather definitively lost the battle. Not sticking around to watch, I heard screams and howls of agony fade as I ran. The monsters, whatever they were, not only had no mercy for a defeated enemy, they seemed to have a sadistic streak. That is, if I wasn't attributing malice to something more basic and animal. It was possible, they looked like wolves, dogs started to eat prey while it was still alive. Unlike cat species, who had the common fucking decency to kill their dinner, before chowing down.
That wasn't, anything I wanted to be a part of, so, I ran. On and on, pushing my already abused body to it's limits. The woods were treacherous, roots trying to trip me up, trees getting in the way. In my flight, I missed a tiny cliff, and fell, tumbling down a hill in a spray of leaves and curses. That I didn't impale my clumsy ass on my stolen sword, and even held onto it, was a miracle. Rolling right up to and smacking my side against a tree, stars swam in my vision as I lay there, gasping.
"Stoooop." I groaned, to no one in particular. "Stop persecuting me...I just want to..." Complaining took to much effort. Good that it was, cutting the bellyaching let me hear, there were no screams, no gunshots. I'd outdistanced the doomed camp. Poor guys, well, at least I think Arctos was decent.
Convincing myself that continuing on was better than laying there and dying took some effort. Story of my last ten years right there. The more things change...
I managed, eventually. Dragging my carcass up and staggering on in the direction I'd picked at last. I took it easy, as much to hear, and be ready to go down swinging if a werewolf, cultist, or some hitherto unknown nasty came out of the trees, than because I was just plain beat. Steadily, my feet ate ground, while the sun starting to dip, and sneak up on the horizon. There was only so long I could keep this up, however; leading me to look for the nearest excuse to take a break.
An excuse, came in the form of another small stream. I followed it, just long enough to hit a spot with the sun shining on it. Butt smacking the ground, I scooted the last few inches before I started to drink. This stuff was the genuine elixir, clean and cool, the second I got a mouthful down, I decided scooping it up with my hands was too slow; and shifted to stick my face in and gulp water down.
Thirst obliterated, I leaned back, taking the chance to catch my breath. "Hahhh, Only thing better would be a bite to eat. And an actual seat, inside a house...and a hot chick serving me some beer. Okay, one thing at a time. Food first, babes later." The thought of, ahem, companionship, soured my mood. It led me to think of the last person I'd spoken with, and her fate. That, was gonna show up in my dreams later, I just knew.
Deciding I may as well do something with my break, I washed a bit, wrists, one of the bigger stains on my jacket, I checked out my face. Nothing disfiguring, nice. Still hurt all over. My indulgence in what little vanity I had was interrupted, the wind was right, coming behind me, and carried rapid footsteps up to my ears. Crap.
Standing, I kicked leaves over where I'd been sitting, and poked around for a hiding spot. Whatever was coming was gaining fast, I wasn't outrunning shit in my state. A ways away, I tucked myself into the brush, settling down in time to listen to the approaching something.
Something, happened to be someone, now that was a surprise, it was one of the cultists! That anyone survived the massacre at the camp was a small miracle. That said someone was coming my way, was more than a little annoying. He came, staggering through the woods, and slowed to a stop not far from where I'd rested at the stream, ragged, but seemingly unhurt. His getup was scuffed, and had...cat ears? The fuck? Did I really get my ass kicked, and planed to be executed, by some goddamn furry cult? I snorted, cutting myself off before I laughed outright and gave away my position.
Oops, the noise was enough, somehow...the guy's ears twitched, actually friggin twitched my way, what? His head whipped around, right to me. Crap. Not seeing me yet, his head darted around, and a second later, he turned to face my hiding place. At his belt was a holstered pistol, which he drew, racked, and held vaguely in my direction as he started toward the bushes. Double crap. Things were going downhill, fast. I wouldn't be able to hide, nor did I feel like taking my chances talking him down.
Only one option, here we go.
Keeping quiet the best I could, I waited, the cultist was inching forward. Each shaky step I sent a silent prayer for him to give up, decide it was nothing, and leave me the fuck alone before he made it him or me. No dice, in a trembling voice, he called out to the woods. "Hey! I- I know you're out there! Come out before I shoot! I mean it!" He, obviously didn't know, or he'd be aiming right at me, not off to the side. That wouldn't last long. My muscles protested my awkward crouch, I put it out of mind, body coiling like a spring. Waiting, needed a moment, just one, where he couldn't bring his gun to bear on me in time...
A noise, sounded like a deer, made him turn. Now! I lunged, sword out in my left hand, right hand coming up to bat his gun away as he reacted, started to turn to aim. Too late, friend, should have kept on walking. We came together, me slamming into him, jamming my sword up into his throat. Best target I had, if that jerkin they all wore was some kind of armor after all. We tumbled, he fell back, gun flying out of his hand. I pushed on my sword...nothing happened. No blood, did I miss!? No, oh, oh no. He just flat out wasn't hurt!
We skidded to a stop, he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him. On top, I raised my sword, point down, and hammered it home into his throat again. Nothing! Letting out a roar of frustration, I raised my blade again. The man recovered, scowling, cat ears, apparently real, laid back. He punched me square in the gut, it landed like a hammer blow. I doubled over, dry heaving onto his face. Another sledgehammer to my side, throwing me off him. God damn he was strong! It was my ass kicking at Ermin's hands all over. What were these freaks!?
Rolling, I stopped, his bad luck, he knocked me between him and his gun. My enemy recovered first, drawing an identical looking sword, and rushed me. I'd gotten on one knee, raised my own in time to block his overhand swing. The shock through it numbed my arm, he nearly toppled me over. Strong, fast, and tough as hell, the only thing in my corner, he was an novice. Wide open, he actually tried to over power me instead of striking again. It was working, needed to change things, fast!
My right fist came up in a savage uppercut, right into is groin. There were no rules when it was life or death. The cat eared cultist let out a groan, relenting, staggering back as he doubled over. I was on him in an instan; on my feet and bearing down on him My sword flashed out, more a hack than a cut, he blocked it, another shock through my arm as his strength made it like I tired hacking at a pole in the ground. He didn't block my next attack, my right hand digging up, taking hold of a stone, hand pounding it into his head with an impact I feared could break my hand.
Anyone else, anyone normal, would be fucked right now. If not out cold, then to croggled to defend himself. Not this freak, he went to a knee, disoriented, something...flickered, a faint blue shimmer, at the point of impact. But he wasn't down for the count. He turned my next thrust, and countered so fast I had to throw up my right forearm to avoid getting gutted. Damn! It felt like it cut near to the bone! Yelping in pain, I went on defense. We'd gotten to our feet, and were going back and forth. For the time, to absorbed in the fight to get creative. Our blades clashing, a song of steel breaking the silence of the wilderness. He attacked, overhand, sloppy thrust, wild diagonal hacks at me, I danced, footwork carrying me in and out, my sword turning his, only having to block him the hard way once or twice. It wasn't sustainable. I took a shallow cut over my chest, another on my cheek. I couldn't hurt him! Every cut, turned by something I couldn't see. It seemed like he wasn't getting any tired either. While my body cried out for rest. Only a matter of time until I slowed too much, or couldn't block his next attack.
God, perhaps, realizing his half ass champion was about to get skragged his first day on the job, decided to toss me a bone. My enemy lunged, a big, stupid thrust that I sidestepped and gave him a downward slash as he passed me. There it was again, that flickering blue shimmer. All over his body this time. It flickered again, and winked out like a failing light bulb. Huh. Weird. The cultist came to a halt turned around, and rushed again, only, he came at me about as fast as I expected any regular old Joe to. Sloppy diagonal hack, I parried, and my arm didn't go numb this time.
I may not have the faintest idea what's going on, where I am, or who these people who keep trying to kill me are. What I do have is the ability to put two and two together. That shimmer, flickering out, and now cat boy wasn't nearly as fast, and nowhere near as strong. Time to see if he's still invulnerable.
I stepped in, parrying on my way and following up with a smooth slice that ought to have his guts pouring out. My blade dug in, tearing at, but not through thick, tough material. It was armor after all, but he wasn't untouchable anymore. I must've looked downright vicious, my opponent faltered, taking a step back as I continued my assault.
Without his speed, the cultist accumulated cuts as I feinted and got around his piss poor defenses, cuts built up, arms, into his flak jacket, got a good one on his thigh that bled deeply. That one would be fatal, provided I failed to shorten his lifespan any further. I got an angle, slashing to take his head, or near enough. He got lucky, twice. His arm came up just in time, bracer stopping my sword. Then, snap! My blade flew clean off, a few inches from the hilt!
Thinking fast, I rushed in, hand going to his throat. Before he could counter, I hooked a foot behind his ankle, pushing, he went down, hard. He groaned, wind knocked out of him again. I looked around, found his fallen gun, and dashed for it. The cultist sat up, started to rise, and saw me scoop his piece up. Mouth agape, he raised his hands for me, dropping his sword. "Wai-" The gun kicked in my hands, the shot echoing through the woods. Down the sights, I saw the cultist fall back down, he didn't get back up.
Stillness returned. Only then, did I start shaking. I nearly dropped the gun as my breath got shaky and too fast. I did drop to my knees, staring transfixed. Come on, Lanius, this isn't your first tussle. But damn, damn! That was way too close! I tried to get up, it didn't work, one step at a time then, get your breathing under control. Then see about standing.
In time I managed to get up, and get my head in the game enough to get on with what needed doing. Out here, God only knows how far from anyone who didn't want my ass, I needed every edge I could get. Coming up on the dead cultist, curiosity got the better of me, careful not to take his mask off, I...didn't want to see his face, enough of those in my dreams as is, I slid his hood off. Sure enough, the ears didn't come off with the hood. They really were his, right on his head, apparently fully functional...
"Huh, well I'll be. Guess that's how he heard me. Wait." I tilted his head, he had a set of human ears too. "The hell? How's that work?" I had not the skill, equipment, nor inclination to start carving on this asshole's corpse to find out what kind of fuckery was going on in his skull to allow for two sets of ears. Instead, I focused on stripping him of, anything I could use.
An inventory of the dead cultist came out to a set of greaves and bracers that went on immedietly. His duty belt, with a sheathe for his sword, and holster for his pistol. The piece was weird, heavy, it's ammo wasn't anything I recognized. It looked vaguely like 10mm Auto. I hoped it performed similarly; you could down a grizzly if you had the skill and balls in an emergency. I had two spare mags, ten rounds each, for 29 all told. Not bad. No food, even a canteen would've been handy. Ah well.
Last item of interest was his jerkin. It's material proved to be some kind of material I reckoned to be a flak jacket, with a goofy waistcoat at the bottom. While the rest of his uniform was too small, all the armored bits seemed made for a standard range of sizes. The cuts I'd put on it were minimal. But, it was bright white, and as I turned it over, had a bright red emblem on it. A stylized wolf's head imposed on a trio of slash marks. Yeah, definitely some kind of cult. I picked at it. No luck it was died into the material. I'd have to ditch it when I got close to civilization, but cutting off the bottom, I could wear it under my fatigues. So, armed, armored, and with a little bit of the rust knocked off, I set out. Just as lost as before.
Elsewhere,
After the screams had all died down, after the Grimm finished their feast and left. Crows stumbled upon the smoking, blood soaked ruins of the White Fang camp. Black birds by the score descended, picking over the remains of the unlucky Faunus. There wasn't much left of the bodies, there was bickering and jostling for morsels of gore. Not all crows got their fill. There was one, however, that didn't even try to join in the scavenging. That crow, watched, it'd been there since before the others flocked to the carrion. Before even, the Grimm's attack. It perched in a tree, as if in deep thought.
After its deliberation, the crow took wing, flying in the direction it had seen one flee the camp mid battle.
Looting enough hardware to have a fighting chance fighting my way out of another encounter with monsters, or the possibly mutant cultists didn't do much to assure me I had much of a chance in a more general sense. Cloth I had cut from my dead enemy's uniform made for poor bandages, I had already gone through a bunch of my strips, only the cut on my right forearm was getting the attention, it was bad enough I worried I might actually bleed out if I couldn't get it treated for real. "Dammit...can't stop, but I have to." I huffed. "Need to rest, where..." a pause. "Where I won't get jumped long enough for this cut to stop leaking...not good." I had stuffed every pocket I had, and the black bag Arctos put over my head with my improvised bandages.
Stopping to change them again, I sat beneath a tree as night started to set in. While I wrapped my arm up again, I noticed a crow watching me from a nearby tree. Snarling, I drew my gun, feeling a need to give someone else grief. "Wait till I'm dead you mean bastard." I growled, eliciting a caw like a mocking laugh. "Fuck you!" I put my finger on the trigger, and thought better of it. Better save what I had, could bag some game if need be, might have to spend some time hunting. I never saw the bird leave, but it must have, I didn't see it again as I tried finding somewhere to hole up for the night.
Picking shelter for myself was as an adventure. I wasn't feeling very adventurous, however. Not wanting to have any didn't seem to matter, they kept finding and having me. The evening didn't feel very cool. Despite the fall colors of the woods, it felt like it was still in the heat of summer. Unfortunately, giant ass werewolves and who knows what else were out here. Despite not having caught so much as whiff of another of the things, I didn't want to get woken up by one snacking on my giblets.
As night set in for real, I found myself staring up a ponderous tree It was, my best bet. Only problem, I just straight up, did not want to. I really, really, didn't want to. "Do I have to?" I whined to myself. Yes, I had to. "I had to." I replied to myself, defeated. Then, ignoring the pain in my, everything, especially my right arm, I set to huff and puff my way up the tree.
Settling into the crook of the tree, at long last, I was asleep almost the second my head hit the wood. Idly, I hoped that if anything did decide to get me, it did me the courtesy of not waking me up as it killed me.
Good news! I didn't die. Bad news. That meant I had to deal with all my problems for another day; and not a one of them had gotten any less pressing.
My penchant for sleeping in simply could not be indulged with a tree for a bed. Not to say I didn't give it a fair shot. In the end however, my valiant rearguard action against waking to meet the day was met by an encircling maneuver from a break in the tree cover letting the sun shine right in my face; and finished off for good by an assault from my increasing hunger.
From my perch, I looked over the treetops to try and spot a direction I could go in. Back toward the camp was right out, even if I spotted the gates of Valhalla itself out there, promising all the free drink, roast pig, and partying I could want. My options were, in short, blind wandering, or up a small mountain to see if I could extend my visual range. The trip didn't look too bad, I've hiked further and in worse condition. Yeah, right.
The hike up the hill was long, painful, hungry work. Gathering not just food, but making the things I'd need to get by proved harder than I remembered. My traps were half ass, netting me a rabbit on the second day of walking, and jack shit each other day. There were some plants I hadn't any idea of, but most flora and fungus looked like stuff from earth. Living off of forage kept me going, but just. The only luck I had any claim on was none of my wounds got infected. Battling fever or even gangrene would've made this journey a complete non starter.
Somewhere I reckoned to be half way up, only a couple days to go, I was trying my hand at pounding some nuts I'd gathered into flour for a simple bread when the hairs on my arms and neck stood on end. Instincts I long since learned to trust screamed at me a moment before I noticed anything physically. The birds went quiet, I'd been sitting long enough that the wildlife picked up before this. Seconds later, as I unfastened my looted pistol and listened intently. A rustling of foliage, I aimed, it was...wolf sized, I think, not one of the werewolf freaks unless they had cubs.
What it was, turned to be a misshapen, double ugly animal...thing, that came ambling out on it's own. Not a werewolf, but...its' coloration was identical, black, leathery flesh with white bone plates and the eyes. Like some theropod in miniature, just without forelimbs It noticed me, red eyes locking onto me, the thing's mouth opened letting out a roar as freaky as it's looks. I answered at once, putting a round downrange, a bullet slamming into it's head, scoring it's bone mask, and sending the thing reeling, but not dead. Two follow up shots, put where I guessed the monster's heart to be, sent it toppling over, dead before it hit the ground.
Before I could see about skinning and butchering the thing, a good hunk of roast whatever the fuck that thing was sounded good after days of enforced vegetarianism, another roar sounded just out of sight, followed by a second, and a third. "Aw shit..." I groaned, and started backing up to a rock outcrop I could defend myself from, the reason I picked there specifically to take a break.
As I backpedaled, the three ugly suckers came charging out of the brush, screaming for my blood. "Damn!" I yelped, throwing myself to the side as one sped up, nearly ramming me over. At it's size, getting gut checked by one of its charges would be a good way to get splattered. My dodge turned into a scramble as the others joined in the fun, two legged gaits tearing gouges out of the dirt as they did. Running, I brought my gun up to get a shot off, it nailed one of the beasts somewhere in the side. Not good enough, it started toward me, and spun! It's tail whipped around, slamming my thighs with a crack and sending me down.
It was on me in a second, instead of biting, it reared it's head up and slammed that bone mask right down onto me, getting a good scream out as the last of my breakfast threatened to come up. Before it could do that again, I brought my gun back up, and fired, once, twice, a third time. Bullets slamming home in the monster's underside. It stumbled back, collapsed. No time to rest, finding another target, I sent bullets down range at the second creature as it started it's rush, the last three bullets in my magazine clipped it in the knee, then into the side of it's neck.
My fourth beastie of the day was going to be a challenge. My gun was spent, and asshole number 4 wasn't going to give me time to load. He came rushing me, over his dead buddies. Doing so slowed him just enough that I rolled out of the way, losing my gun in the process. I scrambled to my feet, drew my sword, and wondered just what the hell I was going to do with it. Playing matador with this thing was the dumbest decision I'd have made in years, and probably the last one as well. "Oh, yeah, this is going to be fun. Come on bitch, let's dance!" I taunted, jumping a little to stay light on my feet.
The monster took the bait, doing that same headbutt charge that seems to be this monster's primary attack. Ready for it, I leapt out of the way, rolling and hopping up to my feet before it managed to halt itself. "Ha! Try again asshole" I called, scooting up to put my back to the rocks I had originally planned on making my main defense against monsters or wildlife. Once again, the thing rushed me, and again, I dodged, cutting it close to scramble up one of the stones I knew I could mantle onto easily. A split second later, the monster collided with the largest of the rocks, head pulverizing a chunk of stone. Damn but the thing hit hard! More importantly, the stupid creature stunned itself. Giving me the opening I needed to do something even dumber. "RAAAAAAGH!" I screamed as I lept from my rock, sword aimed down. I slammed belly first onto it's back! The monster reeled, trying to toss me off, to snap at me with it's mouth! I held on for dear life, and slammed my sword into it's side. I bounced off bone, it's shoulder, and did it again. The blade found soft yielding flesh, sank in, and came out with a spurt of black ichor.
Again, and again! I kept stabbing, kept screaming. It kept screaming, kept trying to buck me off it. I think it only failed because it had never encountered a dumbass who was brazen enough to mount it. A final stab in, it didn't die like an animal, fading out as it lost blood. It was like when I damaged it enough, the thing's off switch was flipped. It collapsed. I lay on it, panting, chuckling at my own audacity. Then I saw smoke.
"What!?" I stood, sliding off the thing, whipping around, I was ready to try stemming a forest fire I had started. Or at least get out of dodge. My panic was unnecessary. The smoke wasn't from the campfire, it was...the monsters? They were smoking, thick black stuff coming out in billowing trails. I held my breath backing off a ways. No way in hell was anything that made that kind of smoke safe to breathe in. Watching, my confusion only mounted. Over minutes, the monsters...sublimated, that's the only way I can describe it. Black vapor rising, carrying what looked like ash up into the air as their bodies withered and started to vanish outright.
When it was done, no trace of the monsters that attacked me remained. I even found the slugs I put in three of them. "What in the goddamn..." It was...some minutes before I collected myself. Even as I packed, and got on the trail, the mysteries of this strange land just kept mounting. I knew I'd be in deep shit if I had to stumble into many more of them without getting some answers. One thing at a time. The mountaintop awaited, and hopefully, the next leg of my journey.