The ripping of flesh was audible and a howling of agony echoed across the sky. A Beowolf struggled as it was placed in the Monster's mouth and bitten in half. He tossed the lower half in his mouth, pushing it further and nibbling on his claws in the process.
He has made his way into the surface one night and simply explored. He knew what his territory was like, like the back of his hand. A small burning village was seen in the background and he wasn't the cause of its destruction. Everyone was dead already and he wasted no time in consuming the corpses.
The Grimm nearby tried to attack him, climbing onto him and either bite or slash his armored parts. He simply crushed them without much effort and ate them as well. Grimm weren't much of a threat to him anymore. The creatures of the Down Below were half the time. They were gargantuan, nimble despite their sizes, and forced him to adapt to avoid death.
In a way, he liked it. The sense of danger and untamed fury each one displayed was only matched by his own ferocity. It made killing and eating them all the better.
He ripped one of the golden pincers off a Deathstalker and squeezed out the flesh inside. His tongue scraped inside and scooped the flesh towards his mouth. Red ichor caked his maw and when the injured Deathstalker tried to crawl away, he tossed the pincer aside and tore off one of its legs.
He raised it to his mouth and bit into it. When he noticed it wasn't breaking, he snapped it in half and the soft flesh inside slowly slid out. It was like eating crab legs, and he went to work with the rest of the legs.
Its pained squealing echoed across the sky and he went to it, raising his fists high in the air and slamming them down. He held it down and ripped open its shell, revealing a glowing, red core inside.
Wrapping his sharp, rocky claws around it, he savagely ripped it out. A geyser of red ichor sprayed in the air and he greedily gobbled up the fleshy core. A sweet taste assaulted his taste buds and it was something he hadn't tasted in centuries.
Only older Grimm species had them, being alive for so long gave them a form of intelligence and power.
However, it was the one thing the Monster loved more than regular Grimm flesh. These cores were a delicacy to him and each one he ate gave him a warm feeling, but also knowledge. Whenever some of the tribe members offered him the cores as a sacrifice, he seemed to acknowledge them more.
They seemed to understand that those cores were his favorite sacrifice and usually tried to hunt ancient Grimm. However, it was a challenge seeing how they were so rare.
Once he finished gorging himself, he looked up at the starry sky and tilted his head. It's been a few years since he woke up and his trips to the surface had been more frequent. Times have changed, the locals no longer use simple spears and swords. They've evolved to use guns and cannons that are more powerful than the ones in the past.
None of their weapons have broken his armor though, but all it did was irritate him because of how annoying they were. The surface dwellers now were more skittish compared to the ones in the past. Another sign that times have changed.
The Grimm seemed to grow more rampant and he had started to reduce their numbers again, crushing any that got in his way. A trail of fiery destruction was usually left in his wake when he was done.
The Organization had been keeping tabs on him, either covering up his attacks on settlements as Grimm attacks or leading him away from others before he got there. They couldn't figure out what caused him to come to the surface more frequently, but it was concerning in several ways.
Either something was calling to him, or there was a disturbance in the balance. What they didn't know was that he was simply curious about the surface again. There were places in the world he's never been to and curiosity simply peaked his interest.
The jungles of Mistral were pleasantly warm and moist. Although, the rainy season was usually an annoyance to sleep in considering how many landslides he had unintentionally caused. Vacuo's sands usually irritated his nostrils and got in his eyes from the sandstorms, and Atlas had too much human presence for his liking. Not to mention the food was scarce there.
The surface wasn't like how it used to be. The dangerous ecosystems of the Down Below provided him with territory, food, and a stable environment to thrive in.
His attention was grabbed when he saw a large Grimm attacking one of the human's flying machines. A Nevermore screeched as it dug its claws into the cockpit and the Monster saw the pilot skewered on one of the talons and ripped out. Fire erupted on one of the wings and the aerial vehicle started to plummet.
A loud crash was heard in the distance and the Monster tilted his head before sorting once and trekking towards the crash.
His movement was slow, yet methodical, and the minutes seemed to tick by quickly. Trees were easily pushed out of the way and he came across a large clearing. He ducked down and observed a man defending himself from a horde of Grimm.
He wasn't really hungry and decided to just observe. That Grimm from earlier had satiated his hunger and a familiar scent had managed to catch his attention. It was the scent from the Belladonna clan. He avoided eating them because their clan members seemed to always bring him sacrifices and had a good relationship with the tribe members.
Despite his immense size, he still managed to make himself appear smaller than usual. It was a trick he picked up after consuming a rather stealthy Grimm two thousand years ago. It was why he constantly ate the cores of ancient Grimm. His power grew with each one he ate, as did his knowledge.
The man put up a fight for a while and the Monster just observed unblinkingly. Eventually, he started to get tired and that was his fatal mistake. A Grimm snuck up behind him and bit into his right shoulder, braking his aura and tearing out a chunk of flesh.
Warm blood splattered into the air and the man choked in pain before reaching up and snapping the Grimm's neck. The final Grimm tried to lunge at him but froze when it felt an overwhelming presence.
It turned towards the dark treeline and immediately saw the Monster lurking in the shadows. A primordial aura rolled off his shoulders and the Grimm shook before turning around to dart off. However, a muscular tongue shot out and wrapped around its torso.
There was barely any noise that came from the creature of darkness before it was yanked into the Monster's mouth. He snapped his maw shut and the Grimm went limp instantly. Unfortunately, the taste was awful and the Grimm was spat out, making the Monster growl in disgust.
He shook himself before standing up to his full height, easily towing over the trees and made his way towards the crash. He saw the man leaning against the side of the bullhead, wheezing painfully. A pool of blood started to spread around him as his injury gushed more of the red life essence.
The man's eyes briefly widened as he stared at the fabled beast of legends and fell to his side. He started to weakly crawl towards the inside of the Bullhead but started to slow down with each passing second.
A trail of blood was seen coming from him as he kept crawling. The Monster tilted his head and stepped closer, his scorching hot breath singing the man's skin slightly. He sniffed the man and the scent of his blood was sweet, like a tasty treat waiting to be eaten. However, he was uncomfortably full and eating the man in front of him would only upset his stomach.
So he decided to watch him bleed out. The man's movements had slowed down considerably and by the time he reached inside, he had started to depart from his current life. His hand was outstretched towards something before it fell and he gave his last breath.
The Monster gave a deep chitter and picked up the body, rotating it in his rocky hand and sniffing it several times. He understood that the man was dead, his sweet smelling blood made his instincts go wild, but he wasn't in the mood for anymore food.
He set the body down and shook his head several times before letting out a snort.
Deciding to leave the surface for now, he began to make his way back towards his home underground. At least there he could feel comfortable and find some good food to eat.
The sound of an infant crying echoed from the downed bullhead crash. Inside the wreckage was a little Faunus, with obsidian hair and fair skin. She squeezed her tiny fists as her limbs were tucked into her small body. Cradling her was her deceased mother, who shielded her and miraculously protected her from everything.
A small sound that went unheard by many. These cries fell on the deaf ears of the world as the fires from the crash died down. It was a mystery how long the infant cried. For some form of comfort from her parents, but it didn't come.
When the rest of the world ignored the cries, a particular group heard them. A group of wild individuals that more or less resembled a beast than people.
The door to the crashed bullhead was pried open and a large, savage-looking man stared down at the infant with a calm expression. Several pairs of eyes peeked inside and saw her, tilting their heads at the infant that somehow survived.
One of the tribe members brought out a stone knife, with the intention of slitting the child's throat and silencing her wails. Just as he was about to do the horrible deed, a muscular hand gripped his forearm and squeezed. The knife-wielding tribe member was thrown out of the vehicle and the one who threw him barked savagely.
The two circled one another with their stone knives out but a savage roar made them stop in their tracks. They froze when a tribe member with a large cloak made of an absurdly dangerous underground creature approached. Several scars adorned his face and torso while a serrated, black spear with a carefully designed handle was in his clawed hand. His expression was dour in a sense and whenever his gaze swept over the group of youngsters, they instantly looked away.
His attention was drawn to the source of the crying and he easily tore the Bullhead door from its place, throwing it to the side like it was made of plastic. He ducked as he entered the aerial vehicle and saw the source of the noise. A baby, no older than a few months in her mother's deceased arms.
A familiar scent was caught in his nose and he looked at her. He put his spear on his back and gently grabbed the infant, pushing the mother's corpse to the side without a care in the world. As he stood up with the baby in his arms, he noticed a tag that was written in their language and the surface language. Both said one name.
Blake Belladonna.
He knew about the Belladonna clan and was present at Thomas' funeral. Outside must have been Ghira...
He was older than Ghira by almost two decades, if there was one thing that the tribe has compared to the surface dwellers, it was an elongated life. They still retained their youthful appearance, even when they reached seventy years. It was only when they reached a hundred and twenty did they start to break down.
The monstrous man left the crashed vehicle and he was immediately met with several faces. In his hands, the baby looked absolutely tiny, so frail and weak that it disgusted a few of them. However, he didn't care in the slightest because he knew that this child was the one in the visions. One that would be an outcast by the surface but loved by the underground.
He lifted her up to his face and she gurgled as she opened her eyes. Her yellow eyes peered into his orangish, glowing orbs. There was an innocence in them, one that none of the denizens down under had. They were savage and different from the rest of the world.
One of the younger tribe members asked if they could kill her and use her as a sacrifice for the Monster. He immediately retracted his statement when a large hand wrapped around his throat and pinned him to the Bullhead. He was reminded to know his place and the boy nodded before coughing and scrambling away when he was let go.
The man that carried Blake was the current chieftain of the tribe near the temple. He was a fearsome individual who slaughtered hundreds of intruders and slayed countless dangerous beasts. The only one who matched his strength was his brother, and the only one who was stronger was the Ancient.
Blake gurgled and whimpered as she was brought further and further away from the crash. This group of savages didn't even give her parents a funeral or anything, they simply just took her. In a way, they saved her by coming across the crash.
Had they not, she wouldn't have survived the next several hours.
She wailed in his arms and the savage children covered their ears in annoyance, they had already heard how loud babies could get. The Chieftain had children of his own, although young, he knew how to care for them. Nearly every inhabitant in every tribe knew how to care for their newest additions. Despite being savage to most, they were a tight-knit community.
Family was everything to them, and those that betrayed their families were nothing but the lowest of filth.
A horn filled with liquid was brought out and the Chieftain sat on a nearby rock. He expertly tilted Blake in his left arm and shook the horn several times. The cork popped off and he tilted it towards Blake's mouth.
She instantly latched onto it and began to suckle, it was thick but not so much that it clogged her throat. Her tiny hands tried to clamp onto the sides but gripped his fingers instead. The two locked eyes and her innocent ones peered into his savage ones.
There was a brief flicker of reddish orange in hers and the Chieftain knew she had some of the Monster's blood in her. He remembered Ghira had drank some of it years ago.
Once Blake was done, he simply put her over her shoulder and gave her back one pat, causing her to burp and spit up a bit. The others laughed and mocked her before falling silent when the Chieftain smacked one of them in the back of the head when they tried to mess with the baby.
The group made their way back to the Down Below and had decided to bring Blake back, either as a sacrifice or as the newest member of their family. The chances of it being the latter were high though.
Children of prophecy only came once every few centuries...
Days have passed and the village near the temple has awaited the group's return. When they did, a celebration was held as the children had completed their right of passage. Their families had whisked them away to prepare them while the Chieftain had returned last.
His return had drawn many eyes, not because of the blood that caked his right hand and spear, but the bundle in his left arm that was under his cloak. The group surrounding him went silent when he pulled his cloak to the side and revealed a sleeping Blake.
He received many stares and it didn't bother him until he was stopped by the village shaman, questioning where he found the child. He explained the situation and the Shaman looked at him then at Blake.
She instructed him to follow her to her tent and he did so. The scent of incense and other herbs were heavy in the air, so much that it made Blake cough. Her eyes opened and she immediately teared up at the sudden assault of different scents.
The Shaman gave an unamused glance at her then at the baby and started to stir up a small amount of Monster blood and milk. The scent tickled their noses and Blake immediately stopped crying, her eyes fixated on the bowl.
The mixture was poured into a horn and guided towards her mouth, where she greedily gulped it down. Both adults looked at her and confirmed that she was the one. A child from the surface who would be accepted by their kind rather than her own.
Her yellow eyes seemed to glow a bit as the bloody mixture slid down her throat. With each gulp, a warm feeling washed over her and she whined when the horn was dragged away from her. Before she could start wailing, it was put back in her mouth and she immediately stopped before drinking the rest.
A little whine escaped her lips and she reached towards the bottle, a small trail of blood on the side of her mouth.
She gave a tiny belch as the two adults discussed some things. All she did was look around at the mystic-looking tent in wonder before locking eyes with the man carrying her. Her gaze was locked on him and she nibbled at the joint of his index finger with a determined expression.
The three of them left the tent and were immediately surrounded by dozens. They asked questions quickly and were only silenced when the Chieftain raised his hand. He started making his way to a larger hut towards the center of the village. Everyone followed him but stopped at the entrance when he entered.
Inside was rather spacious, with several, large furs on the left side acting as a bed. On the right side were two smaller sets of fur and a crib. In the middle was a fire pit with a hole in the top to let the smoke out. There was a flap that was used to secure it and cover the top; they used this to keep the rain out.
Despite being underground, there were seasons that moisture built up considerably and acted as a pseudo rainy season. Nothing down here made sense and that was why they all loved it.
On the fur bed to his left was a lump that moved up and down slowly. He went up to it and knelt down, reaching his hand out and placing it on it. The lump stopped moving and a face peeked out.
She had rather soft features despite her somewhat athletic build. Hair that was brown like the soil, eyes like magma, and skin that was as smooth as the lake water. Her expression was sleepy but a small smile broke out on her face when she saw him.
He looked down and she followed his gaze, freezing in her spot when she saw Blake. The little Faunus stared at her and tightly gripped the cloak when a pair of soft hands reached towards her.
The Chieftain gently handed Blake to his wife and sat down next to her. Blake herself just teared up again and started to cry, but the chieftain's wife simply hummed. The sound she made couldn't be mimicked by anyone but their tribe.
The crying slowed down and Blake stared at the chieftain's wife, tears still in her eyes, but she eventually stopped. All she wanted was to sleep after being carried and uncomfortable for days upon days. The two adults communicated in their own language and she felt warm all of a sudden.
It was a tingly sensation that rippled across her little body and she suddenly felt all of her energy sapped from her. Her eyes immediately shut and she slumped against the woman's bosom. When it was clear she was knocked out, she was gently lowered into the fur crib.
The Chieftain and his wife looked at Blake. She looked so tiny compared to the regular infant of the tribes. So small and frail that a simple gust of wind could blow her over.
This crib belonged to a baby that was supposed to be their final child. A baby that would make their family whole.
He never survived the first day...
His lungs were deformed and his heart too weak. Before any pain could rack his little body, his life was snuffed out like a candle. Like every tribe member that died, his body was gently placed in the lava pool in the Monster's lair.
His death happened over a year ago and she constantly mourned. She rarely came out of the hut, only ate when she absolutely needed it, and her other sons couldn't seem to bring her out of the hut.
She hovered over the crib and stared at Blake, kneeling down and brushing a finger through the infant's black hair. Unlike her boys, Blake's skin was softer than anything she's ever felt and she just couldn't get enough.
Her heart slowly began to mend from the sorrow she's been experiencing the last year. It would take a while, but she'd eventually heal. A part of her always wanted a daughter, an extension of herself in a way.
A small smile broke out on her face when Blake gripped her finger in her sleep. Her hands were so tiny and fragile, but all the monstrous woman did was continue to marvel at how soft this infant's hand was.
The Chieftain simply knelt down next to his wife and stared at Blake. He explained that Blake was the child of prophecy, but his wife didn't seem to care. All she cared about was that she had another child to love.
Minutes turned to tens of minutes before that turned to an hour of her staring at Blake with a newfound love. Whenever the infant moved, she was there to give her some form of affection.
She perked up when she heard the entrance flap open. Two pairs of footsteps were heard and the Chieftain turned to see his sons enter. One was a teenager with a messy head of hair; it was black like volcanic rock and his eyes glowed brightly in the dim lighting. The one next to him was his younger brother, who looked no older than a preteen, his eyes were full of a sense of curiosity and untamed feral energy.
His hair was like the sands of Vacuo and his hair was similar to his brother's, but was a lighter shade. Both brothers had a lean, athletic build to them due to their constant hunting of the wildlife.
Seeing their mother out of her nest of furs was a surprise to them, but to see her so focused on something was another sight to behold.
The Chieftain beckoned them over and they shuffled close after dropping their most recent kill at the entrance. Both froze when they saw an unfamiliar infant in the crib. The sight of such a young individual didn't bother them.
It was the fact that she was an outsider.
When the older teen asked his father why an outsider was here, he simply explained that Blake was the child in the prophecies. Neither of the Chieftain's sons believed it, they weren't as fanatical as their elders, but none of the younger tribe members were until they reached adulthood.
The family of four simply crowded around Blake as she slept peacefully in the crib. None were aware of how close they'd become in the future.
Seeing the Chieftain's wife outside was considered an odd sight, especially after she had lost her newborn son over a year ago. His death had caused the tribe to feel nothing but sorrow for several months.
Yet, here she was. Sitting near the giant fire pit in the center of the village. Sitting on her lap was the outsider baby. Several villagers watched as she raised Blake up to her face and rubbed her nose against hers.
Tiny hands gripped her face and a gurgle was heard. The smile on her face was one to soak into the minds of many. To see the woman smile after so long had lifted their spirits surprisingly. She looked absolutely content for once.
She kissed the top of Blake's forehead and her cheeks, feeling joy when several sloppy kisses were returned.
Blake herself wasn't really bothered by a whole lot. In the past month she had been here, she rarely cried; only doing so when she was hungry, tired, had soiled garments, or simply wanted attention.
The Chieftain was usually gone on hunting expeditions, returning with either dangerous game or sacrifices from whatever poor, unfortunate soul got lost in the caves. Blake usually tried to gnaw on his arm or index finger to draw blood. However, her teeth wouldn't come in for some time and it was clear the Ancient's blood would turn her feral.
He has to avoid coming home covered in blood, lest he throw her into an infantile, frenzy at the scent of it. However, once he washed himself, she calmed down and wanted to cuddle.
His sons didn't really interact with Blake all too much. They were still uncomfortable with her presence and did their best to avoid her. However, she always reached towards them and made a grabbing motion.
His wife on the other hand absolutely adored Blake. She made her little clothes and often fed her, cuddling her. To her, Blake wasn't some child of prophecy or an outsider. She was her daughter and loved her dearly.
The sound of screaming drew her from her thoughts and little moment with Blake. She turned her gaze towards the gate and saw several intruders being dragged. Only one was conscious while the rest weren't. They wore weird outfits and were thrown into the middle.
The Chieftain ignored the pleas of the Atlas soldier that stumbled upon the hunting party. He simply slid a spiky club out of his belt and raised it above his head. He swung it downwards and a sickening crunch was heard.
Blood and brain matter splattered all over the ground as the Chieftain repeatedly bashed the man's head in. Each crunch would have made normal people flinch and vomit, but not to the tribe. The sight of death was so common that it was part of their culture.
Blake just watched with curiosity, her young mind not being able to comprehend the horrible deed in front of her.
A sudden rattling noise made her turn her head to see the Chieftain's sons with skulls in their hands. They appeared to be fighting over them and stopped when they heard laughing. Their gazes turned to see Blake staring at them while bobbing up and down.
They looked at one another then clashed the skulls together and a high-pitched fit of giggling met everyone's ears. They looked at their mother and she looked at them before walking to the two and sitting down.
She placed Blake on her lap as the two set the skulls down onto the dirt. They began to clash the skulls together again and she panted excitedly at the sound they made. Whenever she'd stop to catch her breath and her smile dropped a bit, they'd make her laugh again by doing that.
It almost compensated for the sound of people being butchered in the background. The sounds of flesh being sliced, blood splattering, even bones being snapped. It all synchronized into a disturbing song of death.
She was so preoccupied by the sound of noises, that she didn't notice some of the bodies being taken to the Monster as a sacrifice. She didn't hear the sound of flesh being torn to shreds as the Monster consumed the outsiders to satisfy his neverending appetite.
Blake cooed at the skull and placed her hand on the one in front of her, slapping it clumsily, trying to imitate the sounds she heard earlier. However, she couldn't, something was missing and her young mind couldn't comprehend why.
She stopped when her stomach had a flash of pain and she made a few fussy noises. A pair of hands wrapped around her small body and picked her up. She was spun around and brought closer to her caretaker.
The Chieftain's wife lifted her shirt and brought Blake close, stroking her head as she let her nurse. The two locked eyes and she smiled down at the baby, brushing her hand through her hair. This was a feeling she missed dearly.
The feeding session lasted for several minutes and when Blake was finished, she was practically asleep. She was burped shortly after getting off and placed against the older woman's shoulder.
A hum was heard around the area and the Chieftain's wife stood up, walking back to the hut along with her sons. It was starting to get dark and she was tired. She continued to hum as she walked and sighed in relief when she entered the hut.
Her sons went to their fur beds and sat down, talking with one another about their next hunt and series of bloody games. She set Blake down onto the large, fur bed and layed down next to her. She gently rubbed her index and middle finger against Blake's cheek and smiled once more when her index finger was gripped.
Just before she could close her eyes, the Chieftain walked in and saw them all. He grunted in greeting and took off all his gear. He climbed into the bed and locked his eyes on Blake's sleeping form then at his wife. He saw the absolute adoration that was on her face and mentally thanked the infant for simply existing.
Just her presence alone has healed his wife and he was sure that when she got older, she'd continue to grow and be accepted by their community. However, the surface would shun her unfortunately. She didn't know how much of a crucial part of their lives she played, and would be considered tainted by their standards.
That was the future though. The people in the underground never really planned for the future like the denizens of the surface. They lived in the moment because it was here and now, things could change in the present and alter the future if they had plans.
Right now, the Chieftain and his wife simply slept on both sides of Blake, staring at her with parental love. Their sons had already fallen asleep and eagerly awaited what they had in store for the next day.
Eventually, the two adults drifted off. Their dreams filled with nothing but content as they welcomed the newest member to their family.
I apologize for the weird bug in the chapter. It bugged out for some reason but hopefully it works now. Writing on my phone sucks a lot.