Post by Ramir on May 10, 2014 3:16:33 GMT -5
Have something you wrote long ago on The Menagerie and it's stuck with you? Why not post it here? I dug this out of my FB account, strangely enough... I never did proof read it.
Grayell only smiled and nodded, before repeating the gesture. His eyes closed after he kissed them, his breath drew her in and he smiled. He released her then and turned to the elder.
"Let us begin."
The elder barked the orders and the village lined the edge of the pit, Zaedus and Kiko to stand with the elder on a high podium overlooking the arena within. It was a horrible nightmarish mess, a cave at one end and a large gate at the other. Steel lined the walls, cruel spikes cowering in and keeping whatever was in there on the inside.
The crowd hushed as Grayell approached the gate in silence.
The gate opened before him as did Grayell's eyes. He had a knife in his hand, a very simple obsidian dagger. It would not serve him well in this battle, but was an implement in this ritual, it had two very simple purposes. It would not kill the beast and were he to claim his honor and his peace, this was certainly not an option.
No, to utilize any weapon in this fight would be to fail, to fail would be to invite death. He stepped down the muddy slide into the large pit. The walls were lined with his family, the Garou and also his friends, Zaedus and Kiko. He wanted to look at them as surely as they were looking at him - they were all looking at him - but he was locked onto the mourning mouth of the cave opposing him at the other end of this blackened arena. Bare save his fur, he stepped from the slide and into the first of the quagmire at his feet, a black ooze running through his toes and squelching about his ankles. The sound, the smell and the sensation disgusted him, his senses yelled in alarm at the chaos and murder that inhabited this pit.
Another step forward and the considerable gate slid shut behind him, there was no going back. He would succeed this first trial or die in this pit like so many others had before him. The crowd went wild, shouted and yelled as he again walked forward, away from the wall now. Still he failed to acknowledge them, he was not here as a competitor, he had no desire to be a spectacle. He was here to claim his life, his sanity - and more importantly, to save Kiko. The crowd was still cheering, but he invoked their silence as he lifted the dagger in his hand and looked to the elder, Aeron. The elder spoke.
"One for each of you Grayell. It will bolster it's rage. It will be twice the beast you could imagine, twice that I have ever witnessed. When you are bleeding, it will come."
Grayell nodded silently and again his eyes locked on the mouth of the cave. Indeed, none had ever succeeded transendence in resent memory. Those who had done so had long since passed into the winds of time as legends, heroes, fables. He cared for none of those things. It was this - or it was nothing.
He closed his eyes now. The blade pressed to his skin at his ribs, beside his gut. He breathed in the air, but found more of the death in this hellhole and with once last whisper to his long gone tribe, he cut flesh with a slow drag of his wrist. A rumbling began in that pit ahead, dust and black ichor spattering from it, that rumbling now becoming a moan.
He opened his eyes as it stirred, was quick to act; he had to face her beast as well. He pressed to his opposing side and with a second, quick swipe of his flesh the moan became a terrifying, sadistic roar. The ceremonial dagger slipped into his waist and his hands shook out but once, his feet sliding in the muck to steady himself for what came. It was... utter insanity. The dread beast lunged from the cave with a snarl that chilled bone, eyes full of blood and cruel intent, it's maw slavering saliva and chaos muck. It was massive, torn, deformed and black - the dread dire that held the core of the werewolf curse. More fearsome than any dragon, more evil than any lich, the very embodiment of the utter and sheer terror and brutality that was the curse stepped into the daylight, tendrils of smoky, blackened chaos matter writhing from it's fur. It's maw thrust steaming breath into the cold air, massively cruel fangs ready with one purpose.
Grayell's lips curled a little but he revoked the motion, the beast would not conquer him inside. He did not snarl, did not roar, but only locked eyes with the massive wolf and swayed left to right, lowering his stance. He lifted a loose hand and waved it in. The wolf instead circled, it's massive bulk taking up much of the pit and came at him on his right, slowly. It did not attack yet, it stopped, stared at him with a look that consisted of nothing but unadulterated malice and growled.
Grayell turned only enough to face it. He was still low, one hand in front of him as though it could stay such a beast, feet shifting in the dread swamp beneath him. His eyes were as steel, his hair so carefully brushed shifted like a sheet hanging in the wind. He betrayed no emotion, he knew no fear. This had been a long time coming and whilst the creature before him surely embodied the worst the underworld had to offer, he gave it nothing. He moved closer to the center of the arena., the beast's head turning to follow.
When it came it came hard, feet slammed off the wall of the pit and brought it crashing toward him like feral thunder, it's massive mouth looking to snap him in half. It found nothing, Grayell had spun - and spun just barely away from it's blow. He did not run though but completed the dodge and turned to hammer upon the crown of it's head with his fists. He grit his teeth, eyes enraged as he thwacked into it's meaty head, grabbed it and drove a knee into it once, twice - and then no more. The beast lashed it's head back throwing him to the ground, turned and then snapped at him upon the ground with a snarl. It's mouth found only gore, Grayell had rolled all too quickly. His legs spun over him in a fast circle, the momentum bringing him to his feet and already he was at it again, a thrusting kick to the side of it's head. It turned to react and received another blow for it's trouble - but it swatted him aside with a backhand of it's massive paw.
His back splintered wood as he hit the wall like a ram, ribs giving all too easily. His breath left him and his head swam but he forced his focus, looking up to see the bastard wolf bearing down upon him. He dropped as it bit the wall, curled and then thrust up at it's throat, both arms clutching it's neck. The beast roared it's dissatisfaction and rolled it's head to the side, but Grayell held tight at it's front, looking for something, anything. His hand pulled back and found an eye and gouged it's way in, tore the eyeball apart a moment before the beast raked his front with it's deadly claws. He released and slid away on it's blind side, his front immediately slick with spilling blood. He cursed, spat and wiped blood from his chest, but his eyes were locked on the beast.
It threw it's head back and howled in a morbid, torn mockery of a true howl and charged him now, it's head low. He met it with both hands but could not stem the charge, the beast drove him again to the wall. More bones broke and this time, the beast snapped it's head to the side and cast him face down into the muck. He rolled quickly, but only in time to find it snapping upon him, his hands locking to it's jaws. Spittle and snot dribbled onto his chest and face, it's tongue hungered and it pushed harder. Grayell pushed as well, muscles straining, corded muscle bunching and then tearing to hold it's bite at bay. Fail now and he was done in an instant. The creature rocked back, snapped at him again, it's front paw then stomping on his lower body. His hip snapped, his leg shot pain into his brain but he could not acknowledge it, not now. His arms wavered, strength being snapped from him and then finally... he roared. As a man. A bellowing yell of guttural defiance that would not end here, he dropped his head and then doubled his effort, shoving back at the massive creature. It bought him space and with that little space, he lashed out.
It was not much room, he was crushed beneath the massive creatures paw... but he threw his hand into it's mouth. He gripped at it's tongue, locked finger hard about it, sank nails into the rotten flesh and then pulled with a yell of glory and defiance, tearing it at the root. The dread wolf then howled in pain, no longer without use for the notion and swung it's head to the side, tearing itself from his grip. It's tongue lolled uncontrollably and it screamed it's fury. Grayell had rolled to his front, his legs were not responding at this moment, but hands dragged in the goop to hurry him away.
His escape was futile. The beast turned to see him sprawled there and then leaped with ridiculous ease and turned to face him down. He looked up at the enemy, face covered in blood and black gore and he scowled, he would not seek mercy. Instead he spat his words, a finite statement should it be his last.
"I hope I give you the shits."
The massive chaos beast snapped down and took Grayell in it's jaws then, it's head rolled to snap upon his shoulders. It mauled him a moment as he screamed in agony, then lifted him, shaking him side to side. His hands had not given up their fight, they locked in the corner of it's maw, releasing and swinging wildly, lashing at the massive creature that would consume him. It shook harder and then lifted him, slammed him into the ground, his scream breaking off with an audible snap. His body a rag doll, it slammed him into the ground again, then pulled back, rolled him to his front. It looked at him with that one eye, intent on seeing his horror as it gorged on his flesh.
His eyes were fading, his chest showed his breath to be shallow, erratic. His legs were splayed at odd angles and non responsive, his entire body smothered in the black crap and his own blood. He tried to lift his body and coughed, collapsed wincing in pain and his body's sheer refusal to comply. He shook his head, pressed his eyes closed hard and refused to accept what now seemed inevitable. The beast came, locked jaws onto his mid section and snapped down through flesh and bone. The man screamed.
He lay there as it started it grisly feating upon him, it's snout pressing hard into his gut and rocking him sharply, his body jutting to the side as if in convulsions. It tore flesh from him and likely something he needed to function internally, but his protests had become weak. The beast settled in to it's feast, laying upon it's front, a paw holding him in place.
His hand lifted from the ground with a gasp, a broken voice with no words. He spread his fingers, reached for the sky and looked past it, vision fading. There was nothing there but the white sky of the tundra but something came upon him in his mind. He saw her, a smiling face, a beautiful face... and it drove lucidity into his eyes. His voice found itself in a groan, that groan became a growl, that growl became a yell or rage and anger.
He slammed his palm into the side of the beast's head, once and then again. The creature snarled, turned to menace his throat and face - and then his hand slapped to it's brow. His teeth flashed in the white, set alight by the black and red upon his face; and with sure frustrated, insane, refusal; he plunged his thumb into it's good eye. The beast bayed in pain, whined in a miserable tone that shattered all peace for miles and plunged it's head into the swamp. It writhed and twisted and released him and in that moment, he found what was left of his strength.
It ebbed from his chest, red vigor that he could not contain. He could not summon it, to do so would be to fail. Instead, he dragged himself toward the rolling creature, one bloodied hand dragging before the other. It hurt, it screamed through his body and consumed his senses, but he dragged again. The beast shifted closer and then he threw his weight as best he could atop it's neck. It did not react to this any more than it bellowed it's agony, it's blindness. But with achingly slow precision, with a lack of the ferocity that gave him speed and instead with nothing but a complete denial of the beast's conquest; Grayell wrapped his arms about it's neck and throat.
It rolled and bucked, lunged and lashed out, but he had nothing left but to hang on. He was determined to hold even should he die - and that image gave him some measure of sick humor. A jolt of energy. He pulled back, his chest straining against it. It choked, yelped and sputtered. He yanked again, eyes welling with tears and teeth set like stone. It growled, the sound now suffering his crushing it's windpipe. He pulled once more, groaned as he did so, yanked as best he could manage, tore it to him with a snarl....
... and it dropped. Dead. The crowd remained silent for a moment, the beast and the man laying still, no movement between them.
That silence shattered when he pulled himself free of it. He could not look up, he hadn't the mind. He had clarity for one more task. He shuffled, dragged himself to the beast's chest, dragging the knife from his waist.
With weary mind and a now feeble body, Grayell needed two hands, one clutched about the other to tear open the beast's chest. He groaned, cried as he tore into the flesh, whined as he cut through muscle and fat, cursed as he reached in. His arm sunk to his shoulder, his cheek pressed hard to it's side, eyes on the sky as he searched for his prize. He found it, clutched it and tore it from the wolf, it rolling from his grip and into his muddied lap. He rested then, back against the open cadaver of the dead dire and tried to breathe, tried one more time to find focus. It did not come so simply with his body so utterly torn, he could not flip a switch and have clarity.
Lost eyes looked up, scanned the crowd that lined the walls, searching. He found her then, standing by Zaedus and a smile broke on his lips. His head lolled as though he should sleep but he stared at her still, her vision giving him some hope. This was not over.
He nodded once more, his hand clutching the slimy heart of the beast and lifting it to his mouth - where he bit into it, tore from it and swallowed hard to force it into his gut. He gagged but it halted as he collapsed then, consciousness taken from him immediately.
Now came the dreaming., the torment of the soul. The true test.
Grayell only smiled and nodded, before repeating the gesture. His eyes closed after he kissed them, his breath drew her in and he smiled. He released her then and turned to the elder.
"Let us begin."
The elder barked the orders and the village lined the edge of the pit, Zaedus and Kiko to stand with the elder on a high podium overlooking the arena within. It was a horrible nightmarish mess, a cave at one end and a large gate at the other. Steel lined the walls, cruel spikes cowering in and keeping whatever was in there on the inside.
The crowd hushed as Grayell approached the gate in silence.
The gate opened before him as did Grayell's eyes. He had a knife in his hand, a very simple obsidian dagger. It would not serve him well in this battle, but was an implement in this ritual, it had two very simple purposes. It would not kill the beast and were he to claim his honor and his peace, this was certainly not an option.
No, to utilize any weapon in this fight would be to fail, to fail would be to invite death. He stepped down the muddy slide into the large pit. The walls were lined with his family, the Garou and also his friends, Zaedus and Kiko. He wanted to look at them as surely as they were looking at him - they were all looking at him - but he was locked onto the mourning mouth of the cave opposing him at the other end of this blackened arena. Bare save his fur, he stepped from the slide and into the first of the quagmire at his feet, a black ooze running through his toes and squelching about his ankles. The sound, the smell and the sensation disgusted him, his senses yelled in alarm at the chaos and murder that inhabited this pit.
Another step forward and the considerable gate slid shut behind him, there was no going back. He would succeed this first trial or die in this pit like so many others had before him. The crowd went wild, shouted and yelled as he again walked forward, away from the wall now. Still he failed to acknowledge them, he was not here as a competitor, he had no desire to be a spectacle. He was here to claim his life, his sanity - and more importantly, to save Kiko. The crowd was still cheering, but he invoked their silence as he lifted the dagger in his hand and looked to the elder, Aeron. The elder spoke.
"One for each of you Grayell. It will bolster it's rage. It will be twice the beast you could imagine, twice that I have ever witnessed. When you are bleeding, it will come."
Grayell nodded silently and again his eyes locked on the mouth of the cave. Indeed, none had ever succeeded transendence in resent memory. Those who had done so had long since passed into the winds of time as legends, heroes, fables. He cared for none of those things. It was this - or it was nothing.
He closed his eyes now. The blade pressed to his skin at his ribs, beside his gut. He breathed in the air, but found more of the death in this hellhole and with once last whisper to his long gone tribe, he cut flesh with a slow drag of his wrist. A rumbling began in that pit ahead, dust and black ichor spattering from it, that rumbling now becoming a moan.
He opened his eyes as it stirred, was quick to act; he had to face her beast as well. He pressed to his opposing side and with a second, quick swipe of his flesh the moan became a terrifying, sadistic roar. The ceremonial dagger slipped into his waist and his hands shook out but once, his feet sliding in the muck to steady himself for what came. It was... utter insanity. The dread beast lunged from the cave with a snarl that chilled bone, eyes full of blood and cruel intent, it's maw slavering saliva and chaos muck. It was massive, torn, deformed and black - the dread dire that held the core of the werewolf curse. More fearsome than any dragon, more evil than any lich, the very embodiment of the utter and sheer terror and brutality that was the curse stepped into the daylight, tendrils of smoky, blackened chaos matter writhing from it's fur. It's maw thrust steaming breath into the cold air, massively cruel fangs ready with one purpose.
Grayell's lips curled a little but he revoked the motion, the beast would not conquer him inside. He did not snarl, did not roar, but only locked eyes with the massive wolf and swayed left to right, lowering his stance. He lifted a loose hand and waved it in. The wolf instead circled, it's massive bulk taking up much of the pit and came at him on his right, slowly. It did not attack yet, it stopped, stared at him with a look that consisted of nothing but unadulterated malice and growled.
Grayell turned only enough to face it. He was still low, one hand in front of him as though it could stay such a beast, feet shifting in the dread swamp beneath him. His eyes were as steel, his hair so carefully brushed shifted like a sheet hanging in the wind. He betrayed no emotion, he knew no fear. This had been a long time coming and whilst the creature before him surely embodied the worst the underworld had to offer, he gave it nothing. He moved closer to the center of the arena., the beast's head turning to follow.
When it came it came hard, feet slammed off the wall of the pit and brought it crashing toward him like feral thunder, it's massive mouth looking to snap him in half. It found nothing, Grayell had spun - and spun just barely away from it's blow. He did not run though but completed the dodge and turned to hammer upon the crown of it's head with his fists. He grit his teeth, eyes enraged as he thwacked into it's meaty head, grabbed it and drove a knee into it once, twice - and then no more. The beast lashed it's head back throwing him to the ground, turned and then snapped at him upon the ground with a snarl. It's mouth found only gore, Grayell had rolled all too quickly. His legs spun over him in a fast circle, the momentum bringing him to his feet and already he was at it again, a thrusting kick to the side of it's head. It turned to react and received another blow for it's trouble - but it swatted him aside with a backhand of it's massive paw.
His back splintered wood as he hit the wall like a ram, ribs giving all too easily. His breath left him and his head swam but he forced his focus, looking up to see the bastard wolf bearing down upon him. He dropped as it bit the wall, curled and then thrust up at it's throat, both arms clutching it's neck. The beast roared it's dissatisfaction and rolled it's head to the side, but Grayell held tight at it's front, looking for something, anything. His hand pulled back and found an eye and gouged it's way in, tore the eyeball apart a moment before the beast raked his front with it's deadly claws. He released and slid away on it's blind side, his front immediately slick with spilling blood. He cursed, spat and wiped blood from his chest, but his eyes were locked on the beast.
It threw it's head back and howled in a morbid, torn mockery of a true howl and charged him now, it's head low. He met it with both hands but could not stem the charge, the beast drove him again to the wall. More bones broke and this time, the beast snapped it's head to the side and cast him face down into the muck. He rolled quickly, but only in time to find it snapping upon him, his hands locking to it's jaws. Spittle and snot dribbled onto his chest and face, it's tongue hungered and it pushed harder. Grayell pushed as well, muscles straining, corded muscle bunching and then tearing to hold it's bite at bay. Fail now and he was done in an instant. The creature rocked back, snapped at him again, it's front paw then stomping on his lower body. His hip snapped, his leg shot pain into his brain but he could not acknowledge it, not now. His arms wavered, strength being snapped from him and then finally... he roared. As a man. A bellowing yell of guttural defiance that would not end here, he dropped his head and then doubled his effort, shoving back at the massive creature. It bought him space and with that little space, he lashed out.
It was not much room, he was crushed beneath the massive creatures paw... but he threw his hand into it's mouth. He gripped at it's tongue, locked finger hard about it, sank nails into the rotten flesh and then pulled with a yell of glory and defiance, tearing it at the root. The dread wolf then howled in pain, no longer without use for the notion and swung it's head to the side, tearing itself from his grip. It's tongue lolled uncontrollably and it screamed it's fury. Grayell had rolled to his front, his legs were not responding at this moment, but hands dragged in the goop to hurry him away.
His escape was futile. The beast turned to see him sprawled there and then leaped with ridiculous ease and turned to face him down. He looked up at the enemy, face covered in blood and black gore and he scowled, he would not seek mercy. Instead he spat his words, a finite statement should it be his last.
"I hope I give you the shits."
The massive chaos beast snapped down and took Grayell in it's jaws then, it's head rolled to snap upon his shoulders. It mauled him a moment as he screamed in agony, then lifted him, shaking him side to side. His hands had not given up their fight, they locked in the corner of it's maw, releasing and swinging wildly, lashing at the massive creature that would consume him. It shook harder and then lifted him, slammed him into the ground, his scream breaking off with an audible snap. His body a rag doll, it slammed him into the ground again, then pulled back, rolled him to his front. It looked at him with that one eye, intent on seeing his horror as it gorged on his flesh.
His eyes were fading, his chest showed his breath to be shallow, erratic. His legs were splayed at odd angles and non responsive, his entire body smothered in the black crap and his own blood. He tried to lift his body and coughed, collapsed wincing in pain and his body's sheer refusal to comply. He shook his head, pressed his eyes closed hard and refused to accept what now seemed inevitable. The beast came, locked jaws onto his mid section and snapped down through flesh and bone. The man screamed.
He lay there as it started it grisly feating upon him, it's snout pressing hard into his gut and rocking him sharply, his body jutting to the side as if in convulsions. It tore flesh from him and likely something he needed to function internally, but his protests had become weak. The beast settled in to it's feast, laying upon it's front, a paw holding him in place.
His hand lifted from the ground with a gasp, a broken voice with no words. He spread his fingers, reached for the sky and looked past it, vision fading. There was nothing there but the white sky of the tundra but something came upon him in his mind. He saw her, a smiling face, a beautiful face... and it drove lucidity into his eyes. His voice found itself in a groan, that groan became a growl, that growl became a yell or rage and anger.
He slammed his palm into the side of the beast's head, once and then again. The creature snarled, turned to menace his throat and face - and then his hand slapped to it's brow. His teeth flashed in the white, set alight by the black and red upon his face; and with sure frustrated, insane, refusal; he plunged his thumb into it's good eye. The beast bayed in pain, whined in a miserable tone that shattered all peace for miles and plunged it's head into the swamp. It writhed and twisted and released him and in that moment, he found what was left of his strength.
It ebbed from his chest, red vigor that he could not contain. He could not summon it, to do so would be to fail. Instead, he dragged himself toward the rolling creature, one bloodied hand dragging before the other. It hurt, it screamed through his body and consumed his senses, but he dragged again. The beast shifted closer and then he threw his weight as best he could atop it's neck. It did not react to this any more than it bellowed it's agony, it's blindness. But with achingly slow precision, with a lack of the ferocity that gave him speed and instead with nothing but a complete denial of the beast's conquest; Grayell wrapped his arms about it's neck and throat.
It rolled and bucked, lunged and lashed out, but he had nothing left but to hang on. He was determined to hold even should he die - and that image gave him some measure of sick humor. A jolt of energy. He pulled back, his chest straining against it. It choked, yelped and sputtered. He yanked again, eyes welling with tears and teeth set like stone. It growled, the sound now suffering his crushing it's windpipe. He pulled once more, groaned as he did so, yanked as best he could manage, tore it to him with a snarl....
... and it dropped. Dead. The crowd remained silent for a moment, the beast and the man laying still, no movement between them.
That silence shattered when he pulled himself free of it. He could not look up, he hadn't the mind. He had clarity for one more task. He shuffled, dragged himself to the beast's chest, dragging the knife from his waist.
With weary mind and a now feeble body, Grayell needed two hands, one clutched about the other to tear open the beast's chest. He groaned, cried as he tore into the flesh, whined as he cut through muscle and fat, cursed as he reached in. His arm sunk to his shoulder, his cheek pressed hard to it's side, eyes on the sky as he searched for his prize. He found it, clutched it and tore it from the wolf, it rolling from his grip and into his muddied lap. He rested then, back against the open cadaver of the dead dire and tried to breathe, tried one more time to find focus. It did not come so simply with his body so utterly torn, he could not flip a switch and have clarity.
Lost eyes looked up, scanned the crowd that lined the walls, searching. He found her then, standing by Zaedus and a smile broke on his lips. His head lolled as though he should sleep but he stared at her still, her vision giving him some hope. This was not over.
He nodded once more, his hand clutching the slimy heart of the beast and lifting it to his mouth - where he bit into it, tore from it and swallowed hard to force it into his gut. He gagged but it halted as he collapsed then, consciousness taken from him immediately.
Now came the dreaming., the torment of the soul. The true test.
