07-07-2019, 04:10 AM
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[ tw for gore in second to last paragraph ]
Anger was truly a terrible thing. Yet it coursed through his replicated veins, blinding him, and guiding him to the island he once resided on. As much as he sought to deny his days spent sulking within the watery borders, Beck still returned nevertheless. Not with his fellow tanglers, however. They were here for a party. "The Festival of Colors" as the note read. The little ghost limped across the shore with a different purpose in mind. Everyone would be distracted by the carnival and its festivities, intoxicating themselves without a care in the world. Even still, Beck stalled until long after the sun had set and his peers departed to their ally's territory to ensure his plans wouldn't be spoiled. Although he left no scent and could easily disappear into thin air the moment he sensed another presence, he continuously looked over his shoulder, paranoia sinking its claws into his thoughts. What would he do if he was caught? Beck sucked in a sharp inhale where it rasped and caught in his failing lungs. Calm down. He's done this so many times before, why was he doubting himself now?
Traversing the jungle wasn't too different from lurking around in his old forest. He kept his footsteps silent, picking his way over the undergrowth to avoid disturbing the jungle floor. From afar he could hear the celebration underway if he strained his ears enough, which encouraged him to press on. He didn't know the Typhoon to have a cemetery or any sort of burial ground. In the worst case scenario, the pirate captain's previous body rotted at the bottom of the bay.
"It'd be nice if ya helped me for once, Bael," he murmured as he crept, scanning the ground for any signs of upturned earth or insect activity. No voice answered his hesitant plea, much to his dismay. The entity attached to him since his first days trapped in a suspended death wasn't much for conversations, despite the occasional quip or jeer piercing his mind every once in a while. Beck lowered his head in an irritated sigh, pausing his search to flex his outstretched claws into the jungle soil.
A fallen branch audibly splintered beneath frightening weight not too far ahead -- likewise, his attention snapped upward in a panic, frantically glancing for the culprit... only for his eyes to stretch wide in sheer horror. Further along the tenebrous path, a towering silhouette returned his stare, hollowed eye sockets rooting Beck in place as the monstrous elk stepped away from the broken tree limb. The figure was hideous; jagged antlers coiled around mangled ears to form a thorny crown, its infested pelt scattered maggots with every creak of its spindly legs, and split hooves barely disturbed the grass as it closed the distance between it and the spirits that had been its parasite for far too long. Beck remained paralyzed, fixated on the lord before him. The archaic entity halted inches away from the scrawny cat, tipping its head to look upon the poltergeist with animosity in its rotten face. The decayed elk bitterly snorted before facing south and breaking into a stride. Beck numbly trailed after the visitant, locked in a daze as he shambled through the jungle.
By the time the elk guiding him abruptly stopped, only an empty expression on Beck's face lingered. He could register his surroundings as a clearing, a clearing once engulfed in a blinding red, crackling and screaming as its foliage burned. Yet his vision focused on a flowering bush, sheltering the remains he sought. The elk's eyeless gaze scorched his wounded back as he dragged Goldie's charred corpse from the leaves. Fire saved her vessel from the messy state of decomposition, her cold skin leathery and hairless. Beck caressed the cadaver's blackened cheek, allowing his forehead to connect with hers after so many months apart. The reunion couldn't last long, however. Beck pulled away from his old friend, eyes filmy with unspilled tears. He didn't want to, he couldn't -- the boy looked up to see the elk looming above him, its disorientating presence darkening the entire clearing. You know what you have to do. Bael's velvety yet oh-so sickening voice echoed in his skull, even while the decomposing stag neglected to pry open its mouth. All emotion drained from his scarred face with the simple command, lifeless eyes glazing over in a trance all too familiar to him. He withdrew the nondescript dagger responsible for countless bloodshed, sharpened steel glinting in the moonlight as he secured the handle in his awkward grip before stabbing the blade into the corpse's neck. The first of many frenzied cuts as he began his work.
Morning would stir the band of pirates, eyelids fluttering away sleep and a possible hangover. With dawn's light unfurling across the island, the aftermath of a trespasser was illuminated for all to gawk at near the bay, the stench of rot mingling with the salty breeze. The dangling remnants of their captain's previous body were strung between two palm trees by tightened wire around charred wrists, nearly mutilated beyond recognition. Naturally-preserved innards could be seen poking through the multiple deep gashes inflicted on her flanks, while her forepaws were entirely severed and nowhere to be found. Her chest had been clawed into, ribs engraved with evidence of a knife attempting to saw through bone and heart hanging by sinew outside its protective layers. Yet most glaringly, her head happened to be completely missing as well, hacked off in a rage by a blade not designed for slicing through denser tissue. Both her trachea and esophagus, along with other structures, would have been exposed, if not for the disembodied hog's head perched daintily upon the stump of a neck remaining. Compared to the scorched body, the head was alarmingly fresh, gnarled tusks still bared in rage and warm blood still dripping down its new host.
Despite the body's disfigurement, a message for Goldenluxury herself was legible on its belly, sloppily carved and shallow. Miss me?
Anger was truly a terrible thing. Yet it coursed through his replicated veins, blinding him, and guiding him to the island he once resided on. As much as he sought to deny his days spent sulking within the watery borders, Beck still returned nevertheless. Not with his fellow tanglers, however. They were here for a party. "The Festival of Colors" as the note read. The little ghost limped across the shore with a different purpose in mind. Everyone would be distracted by the carnival and its festivities, intoxicating themselves without a care in the world. Even still, Beck stalled until long after the sun had set and his peers departed to their ally's territory to ensure his plans wouldn't be spoiled. Although he left no scent and could easily disappear into thin air the moment he sensed another presence, he continuously looked over his shoulder, paranoia sinking its claws into his thoughts. What would he do if he was caught? Beck sucked in a sharp inhale where it rasped and caught in his failing lungs. Calm down. He's done this so many times before, why was he doubting himself now?
Traversing the jungle wasn't too different from lurking around in his old forest. He kept his footsteps silent, picking his way over the undergrowth to avoid disturbing the jungle floor. From afar he could hear the celebration underway if he strained his ears enough, which encouraged him to press on. He didn't know the Typhoon to have a cemetery or any sort of burial ground. In the worst case scenario, the pirate captain's previous body rotted at the bottom of the bay.
"It'd be nice if ya helped me for once, Bael," he murmured as he crept, scanning the ground for any signs of upturned earth or insect activity. No voice answered his hesitant plea, much to his dismay. The entity attached to him since his first days trapped in a suspended death wasn't much for conversations, despite the occasional quip or jeer piercing his mind every once in a while. Beck lowered his head in an irritated sigh, pausing his search to flex his outstretched claws into the jungle soil.
A fallen branch audibly splintered beneath frightening weight not too far ahead -- likewise, his attention snapped upward in a panic, frantically glancing for the culprit... only for his eyes to stretch wide in sheer horror. Further along the tenebrous path, a towering silhouette returned his stare, hollowed eye sockets rooting Beck in place as the monstrous elk stepped away from the broken tree limb. The figure was hideous; jagged antlers coiled around mangled ears to form a thorny crown, its infested pelt scattered maggots with every creak of its spindly legs, and split hooves barely disturbed the grass as it closed the distance between it and the spirits that had been its parasite for far too long. Beck remained paralyzed, fixated on the lord before him. The archaic entity halted inches away from the scrawny cat, tipping its head to look upon the poltergeist with animosity in its rotten face. The decayed elk bitterly snorted before facing south and breaking into a stride. Beck numbly trailed after the visitant, locked in a daze as he shambled through the jungle.
By the time the elk guiding him abruptly stopped, only an empty expression on Beck's face lingered. He could register his surroundings as a clearing, a clearing once engulfed in a blinding red, crackling and screaming as its foliage burned. Yet his vision focused on a flowering bush, sheltering the remains he sought. The elk's eyeless gaze scorched his wounded back as he dragged Goldie's charred corpse from the leaves. Fire saved her vessel from the messy state of decomposition, her cold skin leathery and hairless. Beck caressed the cadaver's blackened cheek, allowing his forehead to connect with hers after so many months apart. The reunion couldn't last long, however. Beck pulled away from his old friend, eyes filmy with unspilled tears. He didn't want to, he couldn't -- the boy looked up to see the elk looming above him, its disorientating presence darkening the entire clearing. You know what you have to do. Bael's velvety yet oh-so sickening voice echoed in his skull, even while the decomposing stag neglected to pry open its mouth. All emotion drained from his scarred face with the simple command, lifeless eyes glazing over in a trance all too familiar to him. He withdrew the nondescript dagger responsible for countless bloodshed, sharpened steel glinting in the moonlight as he secured the handle in his awkward grip before stabbing the blade into the corpse's neck. The first of many frenzied cuts as he began his work.
Morning would stir the band of pirates, eyelids fluttering away sleep and a possible hangover. With dawn's light unfurling across the island, the aftermath of a trespasser was illuminated for all to gawk at near the bay, the stench of rot mingling with the salty breeze. The dangling remnants of their captain's previous body were strung between two palm trees by tightened wire around charred wrists, nearly mutilated beyond recognition. Naturally-preserved innards could be seen poking through the multiple deep gashes inflicted on her flanks, while her forepaws were entirely severed and nowhere to be found. Her chest had been clawed into, ribs engraved with evidence of a knife attempting to saw through bone and heart hanging by sinew outside its protective layers. Yet most glaringly, her head happened to be completely missing as well, hacked off in a rage by a blade not designed for slicing through denser tissue. Both her trachea and esophagus, along with other structures, would have been exposed, if not for the disembodied hog's head perched daintily upon the stump of a neck remaining. Compared to the scorched body, the head was alarmingly fresh, gnarled tusks still bared in rage and warm blood still dripping down its new host.
Despite the body's disfigurement, a message for Goldenluxury herself was legible on its belly, sloppily carved and shallow. Miss me?