echoes of blood

Posted on Thu Nov 13th, 2014 @ 11:07am by Korok Lukk

642 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Deadly Diplomacy
Location: somewhere, somewhen

Korok lifted his arms over his hands he watched as dark rivulets of blood ran down his hands, his wrists as he brutally and repeatedly hit some piece of meat that now lay on the ships floor. Oh it hadn't always been a piece of meat. In fact it had been skin, ligaments, vessels and bones. Once it had feelings. Once it cared. Once it had probably had a family, had and left love. Now, it no longer did, now the thing that he beat on could go to wherever the Boryhas resided . He relished how the skin stretched and ripped first, then how the weapon pressed into the muscle at first it bulged against it like a foot against a ball, then it pressed harder, it felt pushed from behind it felt threatened like that if it didn't do what it was told that it would have to try again and again. Soon it pressed beyond that, squishy, smashing and ripping it. After that came the crunch as the point was hammered home. The bone at first resisted and then it gave and then shard flew and blood splattered in various directions. Korok glowered and grinned and howled all at the same time in victory.

Korok paused and breathed heavy from his initial bout of anger, his muscles screamed in agony at having to use the heavy weapon the way he had. Korok only felt rage now, the rage that they had forced upon him. "Go in, fight, if you wish to live. Fight. Always fight. If you wish to die, then don't. The choice is yours."

"Where is the honor is that?" Korok would growl back and he surged forward to meet the next opponent he swung his weapon again and again. Each time it was like this, each day. He became stronger, learned more ways to kill, he learned to take his time while he learned a way to maim and then watch as the enemy would crawl away and he would wait. His breath would be caught and his body would feel refreshed and he would pounce once more. Inch by inch he battered them.

Right at the moment the sticky blood had started to dry, it tightened the skin, it felt like cement, it held his hands to the weapon and the stench was unbearable, and yet likeable, sweet and tangy a copper taste filled his nostrils and he knew he was killing a human this time. Korok's own wounds had felt as if they were healed but only to be shredded and cut open again by the same force that had pushed him again so frequently did it loom, did it threaten, did it try to stop him. NO, if forced him to continue ever making sure he finished the task he had been given.

So, as directed each time Korok surged forward, each time he did not care what came his way, it would become like the first. A bloody pulp of some piece of meat. This time the result would have been the same. Would have been all except this time he saw a face. An instant too late, who was it he wondered. Was it was someone he just knew, was it someone who was an acquaintance was it someone he had cared for. It was! Korok screamed as he tried to pull the weapon back. It failed, he failed and the sound was sickened him as they screamed over and over. The scream from the person echoed first in his ears and then in his mind. Korok wanted to turn away, to run away but he couldn't he needed to know the truth. Was it really who he thought it was? Was it really someone he cared for or was it an illusion. A delusion to confuse him.

~TBC

Korok Lukk, Civ

 

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