- Local time
- Today 7:40 PM
- Messages
- 2
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Maximum 2,500 words
A treasure buried in ancient ruins
Axl lounged on the throne, one hand slowly twirling a bone handled knife in circles and the other resting on the armrest. His eyes were closed and head was down, rugged clothing covering the rest of his body. The air was dark and musty, with the distinct smell of mold wafting through. There was no breeze, yet with every breath he took the air seemed to swirl, startled by his presence.
A trembling man kneeled before him, head bowed, hands splayed against the ground. "Axl, please. I couldn't find the coin, and-"
"Silence." The low, gravelly voice rang out in the small space. Slowly, the man on the throne lifted his head, revealing eyes black as his soul, his skin so ghostly the bones showed pale. "You make excuses." Those three words had the other cowering lower with a whimper. Axl slowly stood, his boots somehow silent against the stone as he stepped forward, grabbing the man's chin roughly and tilting it up so they stared at him. "You think I'm going to kill you?" He murmured, then dropped the knife. Relief crossed the man's face for a split second before Axl snapped his neck, and they went limp.
He sighed in an aggrieved manner, stooping down to pick his weapon back up and sheath it. Yet again, another person failed miserably. Now, disappointment marring his expression, he started out. The pendant was calling to him. He just needed to find it.
Days later, he had walked, without eating, without drinking, through 23 cities in the Kraven country. Multiple deaths lie in his wake that no one pinned on him. The pendant still called, singing woefully throughout the night. As each day passed, everything grew less appealing. The sun was not warm on his skin anymore, any food turned to gravel in his mouth. He trekked on, needing, hoping, endlessly praying for the pendant to come to him.
It was in the city of Havka that he stopped, the pull in his chest so strong he felt like he needed to rip his own heart out. He could almost hear the keening wails. Somewhere, the medallion lay, and he needed it now. His onyx eyes slowly scanned the area, the small town, really, as he thought. It seemed people were gathering in what he assumed was the town square, so he headed that way, head bowed.
When he arrived, Axl found out that the reason for this was cage fighting. Pay to play, bigger gains coming out. The tug on his chest was strong here, and he could use a little break, so he ambled up to the table, placing three braekars down, the Kraven equivalent of a 5 dollar bill. "Get me a fight." He mused lowly, keeping his head down and hood up. He had broad shoulders and a tall stature, so he was hard to miss, but yet people didn't seem to spare him a second glance.
The man peered at him for a moment before shrugging and accepting the money. "Name." He drawled, ready to jot it down in a slot.
"Axl." He grunted, not caring if he gave his real name or not. No one knew him by that name anyway. The man merely nodded and gestured to the cage. "You're up next."
Axl shrugged off his jacket and set it down, the tight t-shirt he had on revealing smooth, well muscled lines, lithe yet strong. His arm were covered in ink, and yet the bones still showed, ghostly and pale. He stepped into the cage, flexing his fingers. Another fighter stood in there, smaller than him, yet looking fast. It didn't matter. When the bell rang, he slowly walked around them. He could almost smell the medallion, and there was a good reason. Gold glinted on the other person's chest, alerting him that indeed... there it was. "If I win... give me the medallion. If I lose, I'll give you whatever you want." He murmured, not looking up yet.
The other man tilted his head, looking confused, but it was too good of an opportunity to miss. "You're on, weirdo." He snickered, lunging.
Axl stepped to the side in a second, grabbing the back of their neck and slamming their face into the ground. It was with ease that he wrenched their arm backwards. A sickening crack floated through the air, music to his ears. A scream quickly followed it when he lifted them up by their shirt with inhuman strength and slammed them back down. In less than a minute, the fight was over, the other man unconscious. The design of the floor was well made, as the blood that ran in rivulets down the stones went to the middle and disappeared into a drain.
He bent down and pulled the pendant off, stalking back out and picking up his coat. His hood had fallen off, revealing the black eyes and skull showing through the skin. evil didn't even begin to describe the way he looked.
WORK IN PROGRESS
A treasure buried in ancient ruins
Axl lounged on the throne, one hand slowly twirling a bone handled knife in circles and the other resting on the armrest. His eyes were closed and head was down, rugged clothing covering the rest of his body. The air was dark and musty, with the distinct smell of mold wafting through. There was no breeze, yet with every breath he took the air seemed to swirl, startled by his presence.
A trembling man kneeled before him, head bowed, hands splayed against the ground. "Axl, please. I couldn't find the coin, and-"
"Silence." The low, gravelly voice rang out in the small space. Slowly, the man on the throne lifted his head, revealing eyes black as his soul, his skin so ghostly the bones showed pale. "You make excuses." Those three words had the other cowering lower with a whimper. Axl slowly stood, his boots somehow silent against the stone as he stepped forward, grabbing the man's chin roughly and tilting it up so they stared at him. "You think I'm going to kill you?" He murmured, then dropped the knife. Relief crossed the man's face for a split second before Axl snapped his neck, and they went limp.
He sighed in an aggrieved manner, stooping down to pick his weapon back up and sheath it. Yet again, another person failed miserably. Now, disappointment marring his expression, he started out. The pendant was calling to him. He just needed to find it.
Days later, he had walked, without eating, without drinking, through 23 cities in the Kraven country. Multiple deaths lie in his wake that no one pinned on him. The pendant still called, singing woefully throughout the night. As each day passed, everything grew less appealing. The sun was not warm on his skin anymore, any food turned to gravel in his mouth. He trekked on, needing, hoping, endlessly praying for the pendant to come to him.
It was in the city of Havka that he stopped, the pull in his chest so strong he felt like he needed to rip his own heart out. He could almost hear the keening wails. Somewhere, the medallion lay, and he needed it now. His onyx eyes slowly scanned the area, the small town, really, as he thought. It seemed people were gathering in what he assumed was the town square, so he headed that way, head bowed.
When he arrived, Axl found out that the reason for this was cage fighting. Pay to play, bigger gains coming out. The tug on his chest was strong here, and he could use a little break, so he ambled up to the table, placing three braekars down, the Kraven equivalent of a 5 dollar bill. "Get me a fight." He mused lowly, keeping his head down and hood up. He had broad shoulders and a tall stature, so he was hard to miss, but yet people didn't seem to spare him a second glance.
The man peered at him for a moment before shrugging and accepting the money. "Name." He drawled, ready to jot it down in a slot.
"Axl." He grunted, not caring if he gave his real name or not. No one knew him by that name anyway. The man merely nodded and gestured to the cage. "You're up next."
Axl shrugged off his jacket and set it down, the tight t-shirt he had on revealing smooth, well muscled lines, lithe yet strong. His arm were covered in ink, and yet the bones still showed, ghostly and pale. He stepped into the cage, flexing his fingers. Another fighter stood in there, smaller than him, yet looking fast. It didn't matter. When the bell rang, he slowly walked around them. He could almost smell the medallion, and there was a good reason. Gold glinted on the other person's chest, alerting him that indeed... there it was. "If I win... give me the medallion. If I lose, I'll give you whatever you want." He murmured, not looking up yet.
The other man tilted his head, looking confused, but it was too good of an opportunity to miss. "You're on, weirdo." He snickered, lunging.
Axl stepped to the side in a second, grabbing the back of their neck and slamming their face into the ground. It was with ease that he wrenched their arm backwards. A sickening crack floated through the air, music to his ears. A scream quickly followed it when he lifted them up by their shirt with inhuman strength and slammed them back down. In less than a minute, the fight was over, the other man unconscious. The design of the floor was well made, as the blood that ran in rivulets down the stones went to the middle and disappeared into a drain.
He bent down and pulled the pendant off, stalking back out and picking up his coat. His hood had fallen off, revealing the black eyes and skull showing through the skin. evil didn't even begin to describe the way he looked.
WORK IN PROGRESS
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