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The soft twilight soon fell victim to the pitch darkness of night. The moon providing only streaks of white over the grounds of this massive castle. The ruckus of the soldiers had long since died away as they slept off their recent victory. The servants and maids sleeping peacefully in their quarters. The only movements on the grounds by a select group of guards, patrolling, their halberds held at ease while they make their rounds.
No one seemed to notice the formless shadow that moved quietly over the wall, dropping to the ground almost immediately after the patrol had rounded the corner. The slender, obviously fit assassin, slinking towards the main keep, the darkness clinging to it and the shadows clothing it as it makes its way in through the lowest window. A series of swift yet stealthy movements allowing it to make its way through the castle to the room of the renowned Lord Tatsuo, the devourer of men.
Silently testing the door, the moving shade finds it dead bolted, as expected. Shifting around to locate the hallway window, easily locating it from the glimmering moonlight. Stepping up on the ledge, and working out the window, glancing along the wall of the tower to find the outside entrance to the Lord’s chambers. Darkness still clung to this being, shrouded in black. The slightest bit of color, only visible thanks to the ever present moon, a deep shade of green embedded along the handle of a short dagger, the hilt tipped with the ornamental head of a griffon. The dagger was strapped around the killer’s back, for freedom of movement and easy access, which made the climb to the Lord’s window all the simpler.
Once inside, the hired blade turned towards the bed, the form of the sleeping warlord shifting slightly in the bed. Motionlessness stole across the warrior of darkness, hand on the dagger, preparing for the waking of Tatsuo, but no such thing happened. After a few long minutes of dead silence, the assassin moved again, closer to the bed, drawing the blade slowly, quietly, preparing to do the duty that would end this war and allow the knights who had set this mission to take control of the area completely and be rid of this man once and for all..
The man, who stood tall, built like the gods, striking fear in the hearts of all who enter his presence, and the tales of his actions causing those who had never even seen him to tremble. A bear of a man, tall and wide-shouldered. It was said he could lift and throw a weight of 35 stones past the chain mark with ease. His appearance even resembled some sort of dark beast, a thick mane of raven hair, eyes black as pitch, and his old battle scars covering his body like trophies. The greatest of which was a massive wound on his side. No human warrior could have ever caused a mark like this. It was said by old men in taverns, after sufficiently filling them with ale to quench the fear they held of this man, if he can even be called that, that lord Tatsuo received this great injury in his youth while battling an ancient dragon. No matter how much ale or mead or wine you pour into these men, however, they will never speak of how a young man was able to survive from having half of his ribcage crushed and ripped form his body, and the flesh torn from his bones.
There were no old friends to question, no childhood acquaintances to speak of, no family who claimed him. This man seemed to have just appeared one day, burly and powerful and causing the blood of the knights who ruled the lands to run cold with fright. It wasn’t his size, or his strength, or even the tales of great battle prowess that worried the wisest of men, it was his eyes. It’s always the eyes, or so they say. You can tell the measure of a man, the true stature and greatness of a knight, the power and very experience of a warrior simply by gazing into his eyes. The eyes of lord Tatsuo were dark. Black as pitch, so black that the coloring mixed in with his pupils, making his eyes to appear as though they were pits of darkness.
Looking directly into these eyes caused nightmares for most and anxiousness for the rest. Even the most inexperienced and rash youth could tell by looking into his eyes that he had seen atrocities and monstrosities. He had seen abominations unto humanity and the gods alike.
Some say that he is a devil. A demon in disguise to take over the world and run it as his own hell. The priests claimed him to be the anti-christ, vowing that all who followed him would be damned for eternity. Or at least, the priests claimed this when they were still here. The entire clergy up and left soon after they found what the common man claims to be, the devil’s head, piked in the center of their sanctuary, their crosses inverted and their christ desecrated. At first they told everyone that these were horrid lies, and that it was simply the head of a bull that had been mutilated, in an attempt to intimidate God himself, but soon after they fell silent when the church burned to the ground.
This man or beast or devil or whatever he was, had to be stopped before he overtook the ruling class, he had to be killed somehow, even the strongest dragon has it’s soft underbelly. This was what Marion thought as she stole closer to Tatsuo’s slumbering body, prepared to finally fulfill the purpose set out for her when she was taken from her family and forced into training.
Marion’s story was nothing like that of the mighty lord. She was a simple peasant girl who happened to be blessed, or cursed some might say, with natural flexibility, agility, and stealth. A born assassin in the eyes of the knights who allowed her family to stay on their land. Once these knights knew of Marion’s natural abilities, they quickly scooped her up and forced her into training. They took Lord Tatsuo’s title of ‘Devourer of Men’ quite literally, and sought to remedy this problem by sending a woman in place of a man.
She had to do this. She had to kill this devil, only then could she return to the house of her father with the money they would give her. Then she could take care of them the way they had taken care of her up until the day she was taken. The images of her parents and siblings slowly fading in her mind. She had to do this soon otherwise she would forget them forever.
Stealing herself, Marion prepared for the thick muscles of his throat, the possibility of a struggle, the fight back out of the castle once she defeated this man. She was ready, as ready as she could possibly be for this fight, the penultimate battle of this war between the demon lord, Tatsuo and the benevolent knights who ruled the land before him. She was ready.
Like a cat pouncing upon her prey, Marion lunged forward quickly, ramming the blade where Tatsuo’s still throat was, then she heard a heavy thud of metal piercing thick wood, followed by a deep ringing sound that confused her.
The next sight she beheld was that of Lord Tatsuo standing over her, looking down at her gradually paling body. His eyes just as merciless and beastly as ever, a long dripping blade in his hand. A sudden realization cutting through her, the dripping blade, she had been sensed and, after dodging her initial strike, Tatsuo had struck with lethal accuracy. His dagger carving through her stomach, she could feel the warmth of her intestines dribbling out onto the cold stone floor.
A deep voice reaching her ears, the speaking overcoming the ringing sound, “You have been freed from your slavery. Your vile masters no longer control you. I shall guarantee that they do not control anyone else.”
This voice was soothing. Marion reached a trembling hand up towards the lord, and he took it. He held her hand in his own, a gentle caress at first, but soon shifting to a forceful motion. Lord Tatsuo lifted the teenage girl up by her hand, his other hand lifting her insides and pressing them up against her wound, carrying her over to the window and gazing out at the slowly setting full moon. He held her outside of the stone carved opening and simply released everything. Gazing back up into his eyes as she fell, a look of shock on her face, his eyes as cold and dark as they ever were, but this time they held a flicker of accomplishment, as though he had just performed an act of justice. Her eyes, however, faded moments after he had let her fall, dying before she hit the ground with a heavy splatter, her intestines draped across the ground around her.
The appointed patrol rushing forward and circling the body, then looking up at the lord’s window to see him standing on the ledge, gazing down at the body for a moment, then out over his lands. A bright twinkling in his eye, a grin of what can only be described as desire across his lips as he gazes out towards his enemies armies.
They have rallied, but the fear remains. They send women to kill me in the dead of night and even in my moments of greatest vulnerability, they cannot harm me. I hold power they cannot fathom.
A victorious roar bursting forth from him, loud enough for those cowardly armies to hear from miles away, “I AM MASTER OF THIS WORLD!!!”
~ ~ ~
The moon was falling from the sky as the loud cry reached the faraway camps of soldiers and kings. The men all waiting in anticipation for some form of confirmation that the mission had been successful. The masters hanging their heads as his words reach their ears, dropping their crowns into the dirt. They would all perish on the morrow at the hands of Lord Tatsuo, the devourer of men.
“Surrender, it’s our only chance of survival,” a voice croaked, as though caught in a battle with the silencing fear that was encasing all of them. “There is nothing else that can be done.” The voice had come from one of the younger knights, the auburn hair barely covering his jaw line, his brown eyes wide as he gazed around at the other, older, warriors for some sort of confirmation that this was the right choice.
“Fool…” a rough call from his left came after a few moments “Do you honestly think He will let us survive? Whether we surrender or not, He knows of our failed plan to slaughter him with the girl. He shall surely slaughter us all…” The young knight turned to face the older, fear in his eyes but defiance on his face, desperate for someone to back him up, for someone to tell the dark-skinned warrior he was wrong.
No one spoke for the longest time. Then, as though out of nowhere, a grey knight stood from his seat in the corner, his beard reaching down his chest, his eyes shadowed. A raspy voice crept through the tent.
“We will not survive this day…surely, Tatsuo will slay all of us gathered here without mercy. Perhaps, though, through surrender, we can show him he has no reason to slaughter the men who follow us. I knew it would come to this. We powerful men, knights of honor, come to this field as the one they call christ came to the world, destined to die in the place of many more…”
The men stood and stared in awe at the oldest man among them. Every man in the tent felt the reality of what he said, and every man, even the young auburn-haired man hung his head in disdain. They turned, one by one, and walked from the tent and stood facing the fortress of Lord Tatsuo, facing their own death. There was no other way.
~ ~ ~
The sun was gleaming, golden-orange, in the sky now. Tatsuo sat upon a massive horse, both armored heavily, a great broadsword strapped across his back as he lead his armies to the distant field. Today, he would end this war, once and for all.
Soon the men surrounding him started to yell and cry out, they had spotted the enemy camp. Strangely enough, a group of what seemed to be six or seven bearded men stood in the middle of the no man’s land.
The enemy knights, He thought, They wish to negotiate? Fools…
“HOLD!” Tatsuo roared to his men, calling them to stop almost one-hundred yards from the small group of men. He, however, did not stop. He dropped from his steed and walked forward towards them, prepared to at least hear what they had to say.
“You spend all this time defying me and claiming you will end me, and now you come forward timidly to beg for my mercy? Are you fools? Or are you simply cowards?”
A deep, mirthless, laugh rang throughout the battlefield as Tatsuo stood with the other men, waiting to hear their pleading. Ready for any possible trickery.
“We bring you an offering,” said a blonde man, “Of peace, in hopes you shall accept our surrender.”
Stepping aside, the blonde knight revealed a small girl was behind him, dark-haired and slender, the girl stared up at the conquering warrior, her eyes wide with anxiety. Tatsuo gazed down upon her firmly, the smile that was once on his face faded into a frown, appraising the girl. A couple of the knights tried to hide small smirks of triumph, thinking they had done it.
What looked like lightning flashed suddenly in the group, a small soft gasp from the girl, a splatter of what could only be blood, outcries from the knights and finally a sigh of exasperation from the lord.
“I come here expecting to hear you begging for your lives. I come here expecting you to finally realize the error of your ways, and to stop hiding behind those who are under your influence only by chance, and you have the nerve to do this? To offer a child as a gift in hopes of saving your own hides? A CHILD!?” Tatsuo was beside himself, trembling with rage at this point.
The girl lay silently on the ground, her stomach slit open cleanly. Blood was slowly trickling along the ground, the pool of red growing larger as the knights stood listening to Tatsuo’s anger. Another flash of the broadsword and the girl’s head was severed from her body, spinning and rolling for a moment, resting at the feet of the grey-haired knight. They all stared in shock, none of them had foreseen this reaction.
Tatsuo stepped forward and leaned down to the girl, forcing his hand through her ribcage, tensing and pulling until her heart was slowly ripped from the fragile body. He stood, blood dripping down his gauntlet and down onto the ground, the only reaction was from the grey knight, tears spilling down his cheeks as he watched the Devourer of men tear into his daughter’s heart with fearsome vigor. Blood spilling and splattering down his chin as he stares into the eyes of every man there, waiting for any movement at all.
Even the cries of the two armies seemed to be drowned out by the pure horror of the scene. The grey knight dropped to his knees, burning hot tears dripping onto his armor, the other men followed his lead, realizing their fate, the finality had come.
With several more brilliant flashes, the broadsword wielded by Tatsuo cracked and slashed through the necks of each knight, their heads rolling up against the body of the little girl, their blood mingling with hers.
Finally, when the last of them had been killed, Tatsuo turned and walked back towards his men. Facing his entire army, Tatsuo gave one final command that drowned out the soft whistling in the air.
“Kill them all, let no one survive.”
His army charged forward around him, prepared to slaughter all those who stood in their way. The soft whistling grew louder and louder, suddenly catching the attention of the mighty lord.
He turned and faced the opposing army one last time, and saw the whistling, a soft smile appearing on his face.
The arrow was flying at breakneck speed, aimed directly at Lord Tatsuo, the one holding the bow was an old grey-haired woman in a gown suited for royalty. This woman, he knew, had gained her vengeance for his killing of her husband and daughter only moments before. He was prepared for death, for he had achieved victory.
The arrow pierced through his temple as he turned with a sickening CRACK.
~ ~ ~
CRACK! The sound rang throughout the small white room, smoke was now billowing around and the tinkle of glass hitting the ground could barely be heard. People were screaming and running from the room, stools toppling over and the door being slammed open in their rush to get to safety.
“ISAMU!! WHAT THE DEVIL ARE YOU DOING? I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU NOT TO MESS WITH ANYTHING!” the yelling voice coming from a rather small Caucasian man in a white lab coat, “IT’S THE FIRST CLASS OF THE SEMESTER AND ALREADY YOU’VE CAUSED US TO HAVE TO HAVE THAT ROOM CLEANED BY A HAZ-MAT TEAM! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
“I’m s-sorry sir, I just…I didn’t mean to, I just bumped it and those tubes fell over and…I’m sorry…” the slightly overweight Asian boy stammered, obviously afraid even though he was at least a head taller than the man, and a good fifty pounds heavier.
The man sighed, and stood quietly for a moment, then said in a softer voice “Isamu…son, are you sure you want to take advanced chemistry? I mean you’re so clumsy, you don’t seem to enjoy the coursework at all…this is your second semester taking it isn’t it? Why not just try something easier for you?”
Isamu sighed and stared at the ground, no idea what to say now. He knew the man wouldn’t understand why he needed to pass this class, no one would understand.
- by Royale Riposte Reveries |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 07/28/2010 |
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![](https://graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/arena-images/ic_paper_corner_32x32.gif)
- Title: Part 3
- Artist: Royale Riposte Reveries
- Description: The next part in my continuing, yet unrelated as of yet, story.
- Date: 07/28/2010
- Tags: part warrior blood violent
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