Fantasy The Dark City

[OverconfidentMagi]

THE DARK CITY
Story || Chat || Characters


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An endless black plane, extending away as far as the eye can see. Above the night sky is dark, devoid of moon or star or any signs of light at all. An entire infinity dressed black in mourning. A figure stands in this suffocating darkness. He is tall and covered from head to toe by a long black cloak. Two long narrow horns can be seen rising up from within his deep hood. He takes a step, and the black plane beneath ripples outward as if it were water, or ink. He slowly approaches the light source illuminating this world. There is a tiny island that rises just out of the ink-black lake, little more than a rise of obsidian black stone jutting up from beneath the surface. And on this island there sits a tree, looming and ancient, with cracked black bark more resembling stone than the ground it sits on and sparse leaves the color of ash. And beneath this tree rests a woman. Her pale white form illuminates the otherwise perfect darkness. She does not stir when the horned figure approaches. She is breathing, lightly, the only sound echoing forever through this space. She is covered in wounds, deep cuts into her flesh all across her body, covering the island in black blood that flows down to join with the dark lake below. A tear, tiny and impossibly bright, falls from the corner of her closed eye onto the black stone.


She's falling. It's a girl this time. Down, down, down. As usual the fall takes longer than he expects it should. She begins to slow down near the end, the final touching down onto the white stone platform everyone first starts on is always surprisingly gentle. Perhaps the entire journey is less of a free fall than everyone assumes, and the entire way down is actually a very precise and measured lowering. His mind had begun to wander, but he pulls himself back as the girl on the dais begins to look around. She's on the smaller side, with pale skin and hair that shines beneath the column of white light falling upon the arrival platform. Like everyone else she's got a white robe around her, and she's looking uncomprehendingly at the stone dagger that she just noticed sitting with her. He clears is throat to catch the girl's attention, hopefully without startling her too bad. "Don't worry, everyone starts out a little confused. Welcome to the Dark City. I do hope you learn to like it here."

Chapter 1

THE DARK CITY​

 

[SachiGrl]

?

Family: --
Kills: 0

F25 A fair skinned maiden with moderately long chestnut colored hair stands with about a height of five feet and two inches. She is slim with ample sized breast and her body slightly forms similar to that of an hourglass. She has strong facial features such as a heart shaped chin, but is complimented with her small button-like nose and lips.

Location: The City's Center

Air. Air flowed past her face and through her hair causing her eyelids to flutter as she was in an unconscious state. "Hmm..." she hummed blissfully meanwhile her body flowed downward like a shooting star. Alas, she snapped out of her dream-like state as her body was gently being placed onto a circular surface that glowed a feint light. "Wh-what is this?" a mere whisper escaped her lips as she delicately touched the disc she landed upon. Her eyes, like an endless sea, looked onward, sighting an infinite amount of structures that she could recall them to be called buildings. "Wh-where am I?" another question quietly came out of her mind. The young girl's head turned only to see the repetitious stone buildings. It seems she was surrounded by this dull colored city.

She was still on her knees looking in the direction of what seemed like North of the red star up in the sky. Slowly, she rose and trembled ever so slightly. Her foot side stepped to maintain her balance and there she felt an odd object brush against her foot. "Ah," she gasped at the sight; it was a stone dagger similar in color and texture to that of the buildings ahead. She took hold of it curiously. This is to defend myself... she told herself instinctually though she did not know from what. Carefully, she walked off the glowing platform to the direction of the buildings directly ahead of her. The presence of the city was almost calling to her forth. She was curious as to just how infinite these buildings seemed to go on.

 

[Neon Valkyrie]

?

Family: --
Kills: 0

F23 A pale, lithe young woman with modest proportions, and long, messy, russet hair. She is neither short, nor tall, and her large green eyes and aquiline features often rest in an apprehensive way.

Location: On the white dais

Like all those that came before her, the girl with the russet hair sank slowly down from that single point of light in an endless blackness. Like all those who would come after, she settled gently onto the cold, immaculate stone in a peaceful slumber. A grimace spread across her face as the cold surface of the stone bit through the thin fabric of her robe, and before long she'd roused from her shallow slumber, groggy and irritated. Sitting up with her eyes still closed, her legs splayed and her knees drawn together, an excruciating yawn forced its way out of her mouth as she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. One large, green eye popped open as her first fist dropped, then the other, her hands delicately tucking her exceptionally long fringe behind her ears that she might see.

The scene that stretched out from her feet was ... dreamlike. At first she saw only the sun. The burning red ball of fire hanging low in the sky, the only Sun she'd even known. Below it, cast in a troublesome red glow, a seemingly endless sea of simple, crude stone structures. It was hard to make out any detail from here, the makeshift city's structures looking more like the markers in an over-packed cemetery. The sight earned another scowl, though she wasn't sure why ... she'd never seen anything else. Still, there seemed to her something odd about waking up in the middle of a dais, lit by a heavenly light, with all options for progress leading into a poorly lit city of bony protrusions.

Pushing herself up, her hand found its way to something that hadn't been there a moment before. Cold, smooth, sharp, it was too late by the time she realized she'd clutched at the wrong end, a small cut on her palm standing as reminder. Pressing the wound to her lips, she frowned down at the knife before taking it up, from the proper end, in her free hand. It didn't take long for the wound to stop bleeding, during which she had ample time to decide on a course of action. Long moments of watching that burning red ball roll a few inches. Angry as it was, its dim light was preferable by far to the shadows that consumed all other directions. Taking a deep breath, and clutching her only possession to her chest with both hands, the young woman set off with a bit of a lead on the great red sun, hoping that its light would soon fall upon her.


[Dias]->[7 O'Clock]

 

[Neon Valkyrie]

?

Family: --
Kills: 0

F23 A pale, lithe young woman with modest proportions, and long, messy, russet hair. She is neither short, nor tall, and her large green eyes and aquiline features often rest in an apprehensive way.

Location: Atop a building, between Red and Yellow.

Collaborative post authors: Neon Valkyrie , OverconfidentMagi
The ground was cold. Colder than the white stone of the dais, colder than she had suspected it would be. The difference sent a shiver through her as she settled into this new world for a few seconds. Even the air seemed colder, and the darkness was absolutely oppressive. Aside from the growing orange glow of the ever-rolling sun, there was nothing ... nothing but that single point of light above. Peering up at the light again, leaving the dais suddenly felt like a big mistake. Another deep sigh puffed out of her, it wasn't like it lead anywhere. No, the only way forward, was forward. Taking another step, she blinked a few times as her eyes began to adjust to the oppressive darkness, abated only by the growing orange glow from the ever-rolling fireball above.

The orange outline of a street began to emerge ahead of her. Buildings rose up on either side, looming a short ways overhead. Walls of inky black stone looked almost grown, rather than built, rather than tooled. Darkened windows and doorways gaped at her like the gaping features of blackened skulls, vacant and full of thick shadows seemingly undisturbed by the growing light. While she had no particular reason to think them so, she was finding her surroundings increasingly unnerving.

Her gaze darted to the narrowing street ahead. A shape, a flicker, something had moved in the dark. No, many somethings. People. A smile almost appeared across her lips. Maybe now she could get some answers. Stepping forward, she could see now that the street crooked slightly, and widened out again. Here there stood another figure in a robe, shoulder length hair dangling in stringy bunches. Hastening in her step, her knife was held loosely at her side as she approached the young man.

"Excuse me," She called out at a discerning volume, "Could I ... could I bother you for a moment?"

The figure turned in a flash, smile already on his face as he took a hesitant step toward her. "Hello there my dear, welcome welcome welcome. Is there something I can help you with?" A hint of a smile fell across her lips. It was a good sign that the first person she'd run into was so ... nice. Taking a few more steps forward, she wasn't terribly concerned at the way he held his hands out of sight, at the unblinking stare that held her. He stepped toward her in turn, slowly, cautiously. "I uh, thank you, welcome to where exactly? Where are we?" They were no more than ten feet apart now, the man slowing his gate even more as the young woman stopped outright. Her dagger was clutched loosely at her side, his was still nowhere to be seen.

"Why, this is the City, of course." His smile never faltered. Her brow scrunched together for a moment. The City? It didn't sound familiar ... but then, it didn't sound unfamiliar either. Nothing really did. "And ... why are we here?" The man paused, pushing a few tangled, blonde strands of shoulder-length hair behind his ear as he issued a light chuckle. "Why, that's an awfully big question you ask my dear ..." Though he'd slowed significantly, he was still approaching. "I mean, pass the time ... that's all there is to do here really. Some people converse and philosophize, some people explore the city, others explore their fellow citizens ... me?" He was only an arm's length away at this point, the young woman still leaning back on her hip with her arms crossed, dagger sticking out from under her arm carelessly.

"Me, I enjoy art ... painting particularly." It was a little jarring when he took hold of her wrist and unfolded her arm. It wasn't until he intruded into her personal space that she started to feel like everything might not be as it seemed. Fellow citizen or not, she wasn't a friend of his. Panic began to set in as she felt the tip of the knife drag lightly across her wrist, not hard enough to cut, just enough to scrape. "And you have no idea ... none whatsoever, how hard it is to find supplies." She swallowed hard, pulling lightly to free her arm. He had her firmly caught by the wrist. "Supplies?" A light yelp escaped her lips when she felt something wet against her forearm. Oh god, it was a tongue, it was HIS tongue.

She snatched her arm back, her narrow hands slipping through his grip with sudden force. Pulling away, she could almost hear the edge of the blade cutting through the air she'd just occupied. She tumbled backward, feeling the cold air against her ribs as she crawled backward across the ground. A look of mute horror was pulled across her face. He ... he had been so nice, so inviting, she'd fallen right into his trap. She managed to take her feet again as he lurched toward her, a wide grin on his face. "Oh no, no don't run ..." The man reached out with a wild fist, snatching a fistful of her hair as she tried to run. Dragging her backward, he pressed her against his chest, his knife at her throat.

"No no ... you have to calm down my dear, you have to calm down. The heart is like ... like a big pump, you see. If I open you now ... why, all that lovely colour would be wasted on the ground. No ... deep breaths, shhh shhh shhh." Of course his words weren't any kind of soothing, only driving her pulse faster, each breath coming as a gasp, and leaving as a whimper. She felt the blade tighten across her throat as he shushed her again. His free hand had slid down to her other wrist and pulled her knife away. She was doomed. Out of desperation and instinct, she shoved her head backward toward the laughter, striking the man in the nose with the back of her head.

He flinched, reeling back as his grip on her loosened. She had enough room to slip out from behind the blade, had enough room to escape. She ducked, abandoning her knife and shoving off from the man, fleeing off into one of the dark, narrow graps between buildings without much care for where it led. This man likely knew the terrain better than her, knew his way around a knife better than her, but she had one advantage, the ability to be very small, and very still, and very quiet. She just needed to find somewhere he wouldn't look, somewhere he couldn't see, somewhere that angry orange light wouldn't reach. She found a building facing toward the dais, whose door wouldn't face the sun before or after "noon." Dodging inside, she ducked against the wall beside the door, one hand clapped over her mouth as she tried to quiet her panting.

A whimpering grunt left her lips as she clutched suddenly at her chest. A stabbing pain cut at her between her ribs, clutching at her heart without any kind of wound. Her back pressed to the wall, she slid down to the floor trying not to make a sound, trying to stay hidden and quiet. Outside she could hear a voice echoing.

"I HAVE SOMETHING OF YOURS, LITTLE MINNOW, SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT." The statement was punctuated by hideous laughter, far too gleeful for the man's actions so far. What was wrong with him? Was everyone here like this? Another spasm of pain in her chest, she swallowed a yelp and clutched at the wall for support as she climbed back to her feet. Her dagger, it must have been, but ... but what did he mean? What was this horrible pain? Worse yet, what could she do?

"I DON'T THINK I'VE EVER KILLED ANYONE WITH THEIR OWN KNIFE BEFORE."

She didn't want to be his first. She swallowed hard. He still sounded far away, or at least he didn't sound like he was right around the corner. She slid into the doorway, listening intently as she peeked out to peer down the thin alley one way, then the other. Her heart was throbbing hard in her chest, stabbing at her with every beat. Maybe she could just run away, maybe if she got far enough, whatever he was doing to her would stop. The pain in her chest seemed to increase, forcing her back against the wall as a grunt escaped her lips.

"OH, WHAT WAS THAT? I COULDN'T HEAR YOU LITTLE MINNOW, YOU'LL HAVE TO SPEAK UP."

Clutching at her chest, she pushed herself back up, sliding along the wall toward the corner, toward the madman's voice. What could she hope to do? She couldn't run, the pain in her chest had proved that well enough. Rounding the corner, she could see a shadow stepping about at the end of the alley, the rolling red fireball hanging nearly overhead. She ducked back around the corner as he stepped into view. She could almost hear the smile in his voice.

"Was that you little one?" He spoke right down the narrow corridor. She'd been caught. she had to move or she was as good as dead. She knew she had to move, but she couldn't convince her feet to do it, couldn't even lift them from the ground. It felt like they were asleep, like they were numb, pins and needles holding them in place. She could hear footprints coming closing and closer, the excited breath as it echoed off the walls. She knelt down again, both hands clapped over her mouth as tears filled her eyes. He was right around the corner now, his voice just above her as the sun snuck past overhead.

"Where are, oooh ... ooh there you are little >Hurk<" She almost didn't realize she'd moved. Her legs still weren't sending her information properly, and when they straightened suddenly, sending her barrelling into the strange, psychotic man. It was likely the surprise more than her strength that knocked him over, sending the two of them tumbling into the wall. Coming down hard on top of him, her fingers wrapped around his fist, wrenching and prying until her fingers pushed his aside. It was surprisingly easy, and as she pulled the knife from his grip and scrambled away, she was again surprised to find him relatively uninterested in her. A few feet away she climbed to her feet, raising her knife ... wait, no ... no this wasn't her knife. It felt wrong, it felt strange, stranger even than this whole place. Still ... it was all she had at the moment. Pointing it down at the man, she was about to order him to yield when she noticed the red soaking through his robe.

During her blind tackle her knife, in his fist, had found its way into his chest, and she supposed coming down on top of him forced it between his ribs. It looked as though he was trying to speak, but only blood came out. She grimaced as he sputtered at her, wheezing and smiling that horrible, horrible smile. Finally, as the shadows began to grow long once more, the light left his eyes, his body slumping limply against the wall, his last breath escaping as a ragged gurgle.

Her heart was still pounding in her ears, the taste of bile rising in her throat, when the mist began to rise around her feet. Scrambling to keep her feet out of it at first, she soon realized the whole area was filling up. Holding the stranger's knife out in front of her, she slowly turned in a circle, her eyes desperately searching the darkening alleys and doorways for the source of this strange fog. He appeared at the corner of her eye, great horns towering above both of them from out of his great hood. She squinted at the figure in silence, trying to discern any detail past the threshold of his garment, but only shadows stared back at her, like the buildings, like the smiling corpse. Trembling, her jaw clenched, her knuckles white around the knife. Her voice was shaking.

"Who ... who are you ..." Her voice broke as another realization washed over her. She managed to stammer the second half of the question after a few shaky breaths. "Who ... who am I?"

The figure remained silent, looming, staring from the depths of it's shadowed hood. She could see no eyes, only feel it's stare. When it finally spoke, it's voice reverberated all around her, shook and wavered as though it had come to her from a distance far greater than the uncomfortable few feet between them. "This is good. You must kill. Kill to survive. Survive to kill. Kill to grow. Kill to live."

"Wait, wait please! What is this place! Please ... " But the mist was already fading away, and with it the figure. "Why are you doing this?" Whatever, whoever, the figure was, it hadn't answered a single one of her questions before disappearing. She still knew nothing.

Suddenly she dropped the dagger in her hand, the dead man's knife, as if it had stabbed her. It fell to the ground with a hollow sound, and a strange green spark arked from it to the dagger still stuck into the man's chest where it had killed him. As she watched the dead man's weapon cracked and broke apart into nothing more than a pile of black sand. Despite everything that had happened she was filled with a strange kind of warmth. It was as if she'd been starved and had just felt full for the first time in her life. It was bliss, and then that moment ended, leaving her cold and hollow again, wondering what it was she'd just felt.

An unexpected sound reached her ears. It was applause. Someone was clapping. She spun around, but there was no one. The sound was coming from above. Standing on the top of the building was a boy, much smaller than the person she'd just... killed. He continued his applause and smiled down at her. "It was a good show," he called down as if that was all the explanation needed.

She peered up at the boy. He bore the same infuriating smile as the stranger. A hollow smile, one made of black sand. A shudder crept through her as she felt the faintest hint of that smile herself. It ... it had felt so good, whatever it was. Quickly retrieving her knife from the man's gut, she was hesitant to point it up at him. He had been kind enough to announce his presence, suggesting there was no point in trying to defend herself. Either he didn't mean to attack, or there was nothing she could do to stop him. Squinting up at him, she glanced down at the corpse beside her again, then back up. His hands were curiously empty, and his face free of pain.

"... It ... it was horrible. What kind of ... of awful place is this? Who was that thing?" Not that she suspected the young man would know anything, mostly she just needed to vent, needed to hear herself ask questions about this place, needed to remind herself that this wasn't normal ... or was it? There was no way she'd lived here forever, she was surprised she'd lived this long ... so where had she come from? Peering up at the boy with constant suspicion, she tried a question he might know. "And who are you?"

The boy turned his head to one side, looking at something she couldn't see from down on the ground. When he looked back to meet her eyes there was a strange emotion in his own. Sadness? It was hard to tell, she didn't know this person at all. "So, that must have been your first. It was a good kill, though you should never rely on luck with your life on the line. That thing you saw is called the Horned Man, and he's the reason for the game everyone in this place plays. If you have a complaint he's the one you have to speak to. It won't do you any good though, he tends not to listen." The boy looked around again. "You should probably move away from here," he said. "When one fish thrashes around too much it attracts others looking for weakened prey."

Though she hadn't heart it before, the sound of heavy feet slapping at the stone ground started to sound, along with the odd hoot off in the distance. Her heart seized in her chest. No, she couldn't go through that again, she'd barely survived her first run-in. Her face was a tight grimace as she worked her way through what she'd been told, finally issuing a curt "Thank you ..." before turning to dash off down the narrow alley, the buildings pressing in on either side until she had to turn sideways. A few more feet and she broke out into a plaza, the large red ball in the sky now escaping off into the distance. She had to find somewhere to hide, somewhere with walls, somewhere no one would find her in the dark. Somewhere she could think, consider all this .... this strangeness. All around were simple buildings, maybe that boy had himself an idea. Turning round, she returned to the mouth of the alley, footsteps slapping around in the streets behind her. With all her might she shimmied up between the two buildings, finally hauling herself over the edge of the one at her back and flattening out.

Feet slapped by below her, and after taking a few seconds to regain her breath, she pushed up into a crouch and dashed off across the roof. The boy was nowhere in sight.

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

?

Family: N/A
Kills: 0

M20 A pale man of average height and meagre muscle. Bourbon brown hair hangs low enough to just cover his neutral, concentrated eyes, and his equally pale lips are always curled in a decisive frown.

Location: Town Center, White Dais

A fleeting moment of weighlessness, then hard ground, then a blinding light. The sickly-looking young male sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust. It felt as if he hadn't seen light in years, and it stung him. Perhaps he'd never seen light at all. Well, what actually was light? His arms sure felt like it. Light.

It took him a few more moments to orient himself. He was sat atop a heightened stone platform, a white dais of sorts, surrounded by what looked like miles and miles of the same monochromatic cityscape. The only break in pattern was a glowing globe in the sky, spreading this mysterious light. "What the shit." The words were more of a statement than a question, and nobody was there to answer them either way. With a hand for support the man stood up from the ground and jumped at a sudden clatter from just next to him. With a mix of surprise and curiosity in his eyes he looked down at what appeared to be a dagger, and became aware of the sensation in his hand. He had definitely just been holding that.

The hands... they felt different too. First he eyed them over, then he stroked his own cheeks. It felt so strange, so new, so thrilling. As if this experience was new, but he felt like he knew it wasn't. Only... it was so many years ago. What were years? He wasn't sure, but one thing was for certain. He had never felt this healthy before in his lifetime.

With a decisive look on his face, the man directed his eyes towards the city around him with the dagger tightly clutched in his hand. His robe fluttered as he turned around to take it all in.

"What now?" He silently inquired to nobody but himself, and started walking.

(North-West?)

 

[SachiGrl]

?

Family: --
Kills: 0

F25 A fair skinned maiden with moderately long chestnut colored hair stands with about a height of five feet and two inches. She is slim with ample sized breast and her body slightly forms similar to that of an hourglass. She has strong facial features such as a heart shaped chin, but is complimented with her small button-like nose and lips.

Location: N. of the City's Center

Dum. Dum. Dum. Her feet lightly padded against the ground as she walked onward. Her oceanic eyes were locked onto the first dark rectangular hole that occupied one of the walls of the city's buildings she neared. A door... she thought. Dum. Dum. Dum. She inched further, her left hand lifting slightly almost in anticipation to open the door depite it being still a few feet away. Her foot made one last thump before she stopped.

From afar, she heard muffled noises. It sounded as though there were others like herself. The blue eyed woman suddenly held her head with her free hand in a puzzled manner. She felt needlessly impulsive. First, she wanted to know what was beyond each door before her, then she was curious enough to wonder back to see who she may have heard. She found herself frozen in place, indecisive as to whether press on or return. "Why am I like this?" she spoke to herself in a frustrated manner.

She tightened her grip on her dagger and decided to walk to her original destination. "What's within here?" the young woman asked once she was at arm's length of the empty doorway. She peaked her head in, then realized it's unoccupied nature. The blue-eyed brunette couldn't imagine the purpose of these structures. This particular one had four walls; a large rectangular entrance and random sets of cavities dwelling within each walls' off-center. A disappointed sigh escaped her lips.

A boy peered his head around the corner of the building he'd been hiding behind to watch his target. She hadn't noticed anything yet, that was good. His hand trembled slightly as he gripped his dagger. The idea that it could just as easily have been him getting ambushed refused to leave his mind. He'd only been in the city for three cycles so far himself, and now he was about to kill someone he knew nothing about, just because they showed up at the wrong time. She was unlucky and he was lucky, nothing more and nothing less. And after he killed her he'd be a part of the family, and then he'd be able to finally take it easy for a while.

He watched as she entered a building. That one was unoccupied, he was pretty sure at least. Very few actually made this area their home, and he knew more or less which buildings nearby to avoid walking into unawares. The boy narrowed his dull orange eyes and made a decision. It was now or never. He moved out of his shelter between the buildings and ran quietly across the street to the one she had entered. He took a shaky breath and stepped into the doorway.

Her head was cocked to the side in a dramatic manner. Her facial expression was filled with disbelief and boredom. She was gazing out through the rectangular cavity in one wall. She wondered if almost every building was seemingly empty. The cavities of each building weren't aligned. The only truth for her to find was that she would have to seek it. She turned her head slowly and found that she was so busy with her thoughts, she didn't notice the dull eyes eyeing her warily. His thin state almost made him seem harmless, but naturally she rose her stone dagger. "Are you whom I defend from?" she asked seeing perhaps one of her questions may get answered at last. Perhaps, he is running from something... her innocent mind gave him some benefit of a doubt, but her glinting dagger remained in sight.

"Don't talk," the boy said, his voice tight. He stood how he imagined a person trying to not be stabbed while also trying to stab someone else might stand, so how he normally would except holding his dagger out in front. He lunged forward clumsily, obviously not a motion he was comfortable with. But that didn't matter. All he had to do was kill her. He held onto that thought in his mind to give him the courage to actually do it.

A gasp of air escaped her mouth as he lunged unexpectedly towards her. She threw herself to the side to evade his attack and automatically found her arm, which weld her dagger, swinging in his direction. "STAY BACK!" she warned even afraid, herself, to execute the necessary action to defend herself and ensure her own safety.

He stepped back as if listening to her, but only long enough to consider his next attack. The boy remembered what he'd been told. The only thing that mattered was the kill. If he got hurt it didn't matter so long as he got the kill and got away. He held his knife in one hand and raised the other up, eyeing the woman's blade. He could do this. He could... He jumped at her from where he'd been standing, his empty hand reaching forward as if to grab her blade, his own held close to his body but still pointed towards her.

Her eyes were wide, but softened only slightly when the sand-color hair boy backed away as she asked. She took note that his blade was still on the offensive side, "Can't we talk about - OOF!!" she slammed herself against the wall in attempt to evade, but found herself cornered. The boy managed contact with not only her blade, but as well as his own. Their white robes were tainted by crimson blood. The pain was so incredible, her mouth was agape as she fell. All she managed to say was 'Ack.. ack..' She coughed blood from her mouth, spewing it onto his robe. "Why?" she finally managed to question; tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

The boy stepped back, arms shaking. "Don't talk," he repeated, sounding as if he was pleading with her rather than giving an order. His eyes stared at the knife in his hand, covered in her blood. He'd stabbed her. He'd killed her. It was sickening, but at the same time it was what he had wanted, no... needed, to do. Should he feel happy then, proud even? He met the eyes of the woman he'd killed, though she was still alive. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Don't hate me." He stepped back to the doorway and walked out. He couldn't bring himself to stab into her again, to finish her quickly, and he didn't want to watch her die slowly. But she was dead. He'd stabbed close enough to her heart that there was no doubt of that. He leaned back against the outside of the building and waited for the woman he'd killed inside to die.

Gasp. Gasp. Gasp. With each breath, she found it more and more difficult to breathe. She repositioned herself on the floor, trying find a seemingly more comfortable way to die. To die. Death. Yes, it seemed her time here in this world was short lived. She had to consciously make an effort to snatch at each breath. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp. She reached towards her robe where it was mostly drenched with her blood. It stung. Her hand being in contact with the wound was painful. Despite the pain, she was calm. Her blood pressure was low and naturally it accelerated her heart, but the bleeding woman allowed her body to work out it's kinks, though she imagined or at least hoped not for long. Her teeth grinded as she was in great discomfort, but in the midst of her dying process she heard a Click. Clack. Click. Had the boy returned to finish her off? She didn't recall hearing the boy's foot steps being so... clackity. Her heavy eyes opened curiously and peered out the doorway. Gasp. Gasp. Gasp. She couldn't even wheezed an inquisitive hello.

"Hey, who are you? I don't want any trouble, so just walk away, okay kid?"

"Hey hey, Black Black, that boy's pointing his pointy knife at you. That's not nice, right?"

"No no White, it certainly isn't."

"Ooh Black, his dagger's got blood on it. He's been naughty. He's been stabby stabby some poor person."

"I said stay back!"

A shadow crossed the doorway as someone, no two persons, walked past. The boy outside screamed, followed by the sound of a loud THUD!

Gasp. Gasp. Gasp. She wanted to speak. Maybe the two outside could help her. Maybe not.
Nonetheless, she had nothing to lose. Her hand covered in blood, she slapped it against the floor hoping she could be heard. SLAP! She let out a hard cough due to her stressed effort in moving her hand. Her hand went limp, she no longer had any energy to move, think or breath. Her gaspy breaths transitioned to gurgles, choking on the blood that filled her lungs.

"Hey hey Black, I think that dead guy's trying to get your attention."

"No White, he is dead."

"Oh yes he's dead, for sure dead, definitely dead. I still think I heard him trying to get your attention."

"That doesn't make any sense White."

"Hmm... I'm gona go see what the dead guy wants to talk about, you wait right here Black." There was the sound of someone running back towards the building. From right outside the doorway, "Hey hey dead guy, did you want to chat now that you're dead? Black doesn't like chat, but I like chat. What did you want to chat about?" The voice grunted, followed by a wet tearing sound. "There, now you can talk to me, right? I won't tell anyone else your secrets, so you can share them with me."

The bleeding woman was pleased to hear the woman's voice outside. She found it strangely soothing as she choked and gurgled nearing her death. Incoherent was the brunette lying on the ground. Only the feint feminine voice echoed in her mind. Her pain was agonizing, she wasn't even sure she wished to live at this point. This woman outside was a good focus point. A good distraction. As the pain intensified by each gurgling breath, she struggled to move to capture the woman's attention. Her fingers twitched. Her eyes rolled back and finally she was at peace.

Collab w/ OverconfidentMagi

 

[SachiGrl]

?

Family: --
Kills: 0

M26 A moderately built man with lightly tanned skin. His dark eyes let off a glint of red giving off an mysterious air about him. He has dark smooth hair about two to three inches long and wide angular jaw. His nose has a slight curve atop it. His brow, lashes, and lips are quite thick. Lastly, his ears are small and round.

Location: NW of the City's Center

Loud screams were heard up in the sky as a man panicked. His dark eyes glinting with red were wide in fear as he fell downward. His arms crossed before his face to brace for impact, but the speed at which he fell lightened, and instinctively, he rolled passed the platform then turned about facing it. "What the?!" he looked back up at the sky with a scowl. He walked back onto the glowing platform and took hold of the dagger coincidentally place there. Though, the mysterious man did not believe in coincidences. He wasn't sure as to why he couldn't believe that it was. Just that he couldn't trust this world he was placed in.

Being out in the open by a glowing platform made the tall man uncomfortable. He ran as quickly as he could to the buildings he felt nearest to him. His dagger was firmly gripped in one hand while the other hurriedly swung to maintain his balance midst his running. It wasn't long until he was in the dark alleys between the buildings. His white robe fluttered behind him as his feet padded lightly against the ground. He felt his pace slow as he seemingly spotted another being. He shuffled quickly to the side and eyed the pale man of average height casually walking in a similar attire as himself. The dark skinned fellow held his dagger even tighter at the excitement. At first, he was indecisive as to follow the shriveled young man or to instigate him. Minimum contact seemed ideal. He assumed he would learn more by observation. Behind the building the tall muscular man hid and occasionally he peaked to ensure he stalked the pale man well.

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

?

Family: N/A
Kills: 0

M20 A pale man of average height and meagre muscle. Bourbon brown hair hangs low enough to just cover his neutral, concentrated eyes, and his equally pale lips are always curled in a decisive frown.

Location: NW of Center, Red District

As he approached the first row of dreary gray buildings he became increasingly aware of the eyes that beheld him out of various nooks and crannies. People seemed to scatter if he looked their way or whenever he got too close. "At least I'm not completely alone." He quietly thought to himself. For a moment he looked back towards where he'd come from, and witnessed another come down from above. "Strange." Was the only thought in his head, yet at the very least he knew where he'd have come from. The mysterious city had more than one too many secrets withheld from him either way.

Buildings encroached him on either side, and he walked carefully, constantly keeping a wall close to him and bearing in mind possible escape routes. He didn't know what was lying in store. Not that anything could've prepared him either way. Soon the voices of people could be heard in the distance. Nothing particularly alarming, just the sound of a folkmass. He poked around a corner and witnessed several dozens of people queueing up towards one of those houses, only this one seemed to have a golden sheen to it.

For a moment he wondered if he'd died and gone to whatever was beyond, as this, despite his lack of a functional memory, seemed alien to him. Curiously, he rounded the corner and carefully approached the back of the line. "Hey uh, excuse me, what's going on?" He inquired to the last person in line.

The girl, much shorter than him, turned and looked him up and down with her bright golden-orange eyes. "Goldie's come 'round, so everyone wants to ask him for something." She spun her dagger between her fingers. "You a minnow?"

"What's it to ya?" He asked after taking a cautionary step backwards. The twirling of her dagger was intimidating, but the only visible sign of concern was a raised eyebrow on his part, if it was even interprettable as such. Minnow? The heck's a minnow? She didn't sound like the kind of person who'd enjoy questions of the sort, though.

The girl smirked then gave him a shrug. "Nothin' at all little minnow." She tossed her knife into the air and fell back against the person ahead of her in line to catch it. That person turned, his own dagger in hand, but he lowered it when the girl shot him that same smirk.

"Oh, hey Beacon," the larger man grumbled. "I thought you left this area."

"Oh I did, place is terrible for hunting." Still leaning against the man's back she resumed twirling her dagger around in some kind of pattern between her fingers. "But I heard Goldie was gonna be here so I zipped over for a visit. Wanna try my luck again."

"Hunting seems alright to me," the man said before turning back away from the girl.

She just chuckled and locked eyes with the minnow before her. "So, how long ya been alive?"

Not at all going for the innocent look, it seemed. Establishing that she had friends here, talking about hunting simultaneously calling him a minnow. Even if it could just be for show, he knew that he himself sure as hell didn't know his way around a dagger like she was showing off. "Well that's fun." He sarcastically thought, and without skipping a beat replied "All my life. What're you going to ask Goldie for?"

"No no," the girl clicked her tongue at him, "It's impolite to ask such a thing, especially to one you don't know. The Gold King's gifts are personal." She leaned in close and whispered. "Intimite." Then she leaned back away again and cuckled. "I think the better question is what you're going to ask him for. He doesn't grant requests from minnows you know, which you are by the way."

"I think I get it." He said, and gazed up towards the building. Though his pupils were pointed away, his focus was completely on the girl before him, ready to step away if need be. "What that word means, y'know. In which case, that's just the way it is. You should know, and I should step up my acting game." Hushed enough not to draw too much attention he spoke, other people had joined into the line after him. Finally looking down at her again, he stepped sideways out of the line and added "Thanks, deuces." with a wink.

She narrowed her eyes as he walked away. "Don't be a stranger," the girl said with a smirk. "Track me down if you happen to be in White and want a fun time, little minnow."

"Right." He spoke as he moved backwards, then turned on his heel and started heading back the way he came. When he was far enough away that he couldn't be heard he let out the contents of his lungs in a heavy sigh. "Fuck this place and everyone in it." He thought. Somehow it felt familiar, this atmosphere, but he certainly didn't enjoy it. Trusting random strangers seemed like a foolish idea, and he might've just been saved by safety in numbers.

He walked directly back towards the way he'd come. If he'd read the situation right, then he was a newbie, and obviously such. Heading away from where he'd come from would only mean he'd come across others with experience. Staying near the dais might be a better idea. Continuously throwing glances either way, he carefully moved ahead. This place felt like one big excuse to be paranoid.

Rightfully so. It didn't take long before he heard the sounds of footsteps, and looking over his shoulder he spotted a man around his own size following him. He immediately spun on his heel and took a left into an empty alleyway, then a right into a second alley and finally back onto the street where he'd just left again. He was moving his legs quicker now, but was careful trying not to make much sound. To his horror, the man was still walking at the very same pace down the same route.

"Alright, let's not do that then." The pale man thought as he weaved into a doorway instead, one belonging to a house of two stories. Now, up the stairs and out a window onto one of the neighbouring houses was the plan and thankfully nothing seemed to be in his way. He broke into a sprint once he hit the staircase, and by gently perching on the windowsill he managed to propel himself onto the next roof over.

He stood and dusted himself off before taking a running start to keep hopping a few rooves until he was a fair distance from both the house he came from and any other visible ways up towards him.

A minute passed. Two. It was silent. Tension relieved itself, and the man sat down cross-legged on the rooftop. There was a lot to think about.

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

Before the Light​

His first memory of life was the sensation of falling. He had no way of knowing how far he would fall, or how far he had already fallen. Everything was just the feeling and sound of wind rushing past. When he tried opening his eyes he was blinded by a white light, so he squinted and twisted around to look below. There was nothing. Nothing at all awaited him below. There was the sharp white light above that he was falling away from, and far below was more white. And outside of that one column of white light… nothing. Absolute darkness in every direction that could have just as likely been solid wall as infinite void. Both terrified him.

 

[Kloudy]

?

Family: N/A
Kills: 0

M21 6'1" with a slender yet deceptively athletic frame that suggests around the 150lbs mark. Light-caramel skin is offset by a stark shock of neat white hair, somehow of non-artificial means. Sharp thin white-as-snow eyes are narrowed, telling of a cold, calculative understanding. His lips are thin and grim, unsmiling.

Location: Town Center, White Dais

Whistling... Air, flowing, dripping, whistling...

He could feel it passing around him, his robes stirring slightly as he descended. His eyes had opened, slowly, almost groggily. Had he been asleep? No, something about his situation screamed otherwise. He was falling- HE WAS FALLING- Wait. It was slow, controlled. He was falling gently, slowing as he approached the ground. Resting lightly on the podium, the young man sat up, glancing about his surroundings passively, his neutral expression brooding enough to to suggest displeasure. A city, it seemed. It had stretched out apparently endlessly from up above, so he could only assume so. The actual material itself was nondescript, to the point that he wasn't even entirely sure what it was made of. Stone? Probably.

It was then that he realised he was distracting himself. Waking up in a dangerous place with nothing but the robe on his back was hardly a desirable position for one to be in. Not to mention... Not to mention... What...? He couldn't remember. Not that he was attempting to recall something specific, he just simply could not remember, period. What... How... Where... He frowned, a dark flash of annoyance crossing his vaguely pleasing features. Was this his own failing? Or... Or had someone... damaged him? A spike of anger flashed in his mind, constricting his throat momentarily as his eyes flared. How dare they! Those... those... bastards! They stole his memories! Right...? He wasn't sure, the anger subsequently fading as soon as it had manifested. He was distracting himself yet again. Something about this place gave him a bad feeling, like an instinctual twinge in the gut when one was about to meet their ultimate demise in the very near-future. He should protect himself.

Glancing down, he saw an ugly little item resting by his side. Picking it up, he identified it to be a dagger of sorts, apparently made from stone. Perhaps it shared the same properties as the structures around him? He had a weapon; he would be required to use it, most likely. Was he proficient with it? Not like there was much opportunity to find out at the moment, although he wasn't sure he really wanted to wish for one. Better to get his bearings- no, get out of the goddamn open first! Getting to his feet, he unconsciously decided to reverse his grip on the dagger so the blade ran along his arm, concealing the weapon up the sleeve of the robe. If there were to be any would-be attackers, it would be advantageous to reveal as little about himself as possible. Had he always been this careful, this calculative? Was this him rediscovering himself; an ill-fated epiphany? God-forbid this being the way such awakenings were meant to work, although this didn't exactly strike him as a place that held any notions of a god. This place didn't strike him as... anything, really. It was just a great expanse of nothing. Or maybe, it was he that was the expanse of nothing; a canvas waiting to be painted upon; a clay model for which life should be breathed into.

It was time to move, lest he fall prey to whatever it was that he was supposed to use the dagger on. Quickly striding off the podium, he moved to one of the buildings and began walking alongside it, keeping close to the wall and looking out for anything suspicious. He couldn't see anyone and nothing of notable interest had made itself immediately visible, so he simply kept on walking briskly, knife hidden from view, clutched tightly in his right hand for threat of an attack. Perhaps this was just a dream after all, that none of it was real. Disturbing, yet surreal. Perhaps in his real life, when he woke up, he could tell his family how strange it had been. Of course, he'd forget it soon enough anyway as it disappeared into the void of his subconscious, perhaps resurfacing from time to time at random. New memories would fill his mind, drawing his attention to what was immediately happening, slowly erasing the nightmare land this place was. He wouldn't mind that. Normal life didn't seem all that bad, considering the implications in surroundings, items and lack of memories suggested.

And although he didn't realise it, he was travelling south in a straight line, passing building after building.

CLEAR

 

[SachiGrl]

?

Family: --
Kills: 0

M26 A moderately built man with lightly tanned skin. His dark eyes let off a glint of red giving off an mysterious air about him. He has dark smooth hair about two to three inches long and wide angular jaw. His nose has a slight curve atop it. His brow, lashes, and lips are quite thick. Lastly, his ears are small and round.

Location: N. of the City's Center

It seemed he and the man he followed was not alone. Surrounded, he pressed his back against every possible shadow. The man he followed seemed to have carried a weapon like himself. With the many beings, suddenly, about them, he assumed everyone had a weapon. Glint here. A glint there. There was a whole line with people with weaponry. The red eyed man gripped his sword more tightly. He lost the man he followed in the crowd. The vast amount of armed beings intimidated him. Slowly, he stepped away.

He didn't like the color of his cloak. He felt vulnerable. Bright. Visible. He felt it fluttered noisily as he scurried in the shadows. He didn't feel safe. In fact, he felt paranoid. Many questions ran through his mind: Why am I here? Why do I have a weapon? Why does everyone have a weapon...? Moisture began to build in his palm welding the dagger. His body was displaying symptoms of fear.

 

[Kloudy]

?

Family: N/A
Kills: 0

M21 6'1" with a slender yet deceptively athletic frame that suggests around the 150lbs mark. Light-caramel skin is offset by a stark shock of neat white hair, somehow of non-artificial means. Sharp thin white-as-snow eyes are narrowed, telling of a cold, calculative understanding. His lips are thin and grim, unsmiling.

Location: Town Center, White Dais

And so he continued to walk. The scenery rarely changed, plain old buildings melding together as he passed structure after structure. Faces often peered at him from sides of the street or from buildings, all disappearing moments after he caught sight of them. It appeared as though these parts were not home to the trusting and the gullible. If he was to survive, he'd likely have to act the same way.

Soon, the faces withdrew less and less, fewer eyes appearing to stare at him, only to hide once again. Eventually, there was no one left for him to catch a glimpse of as he continued his aimless journey. Unsure as to whether he should continue, the young man glanced behind himself for a second, attempting to find something he may have overlooked on his travels. Had he gone too far? Perhaps he wasn't meant to go out to the very edge, if there even was an edge. This place seemed like an eternity.

His head turned around sharply at the sound of something piercing. A cry, further ahead and slightly to the right. It had been so sudden, so unexpected, that he couldn't tell its gender or even the age of whoever it was. The question now was whether he should check it out. He was a cautious man, a careful man. It was most likely a trap. There was a reason there wasn't many people this far out, this was not friendly territory. And yet, it called to him, drew him in. There wasn't much else here, no where more interesting to go. Would he really risk perhaps his very life for the sake of curiosity?

Well, he was a very curious man, after all. Darting down an alley to approach the source of the sound, he kept low, stepping on the balls of his feet to avoid making nay unnecessary sounds. As he rounded the corner, he noticed something... disturbing. Someone was on the floor, the very distinct pool of red telling as to his condition. Dead, or dying at least.

Standing before the body, two individuals faced away from him. On the right, a large, bordering on fat, boy with large arms that seem disproportionally large, especially wen he's holding his dagger and it seems tiny in his hand. Has short curly brown hair. The other; a short girl that with red hair that falls to her shoulders and cold blue eyes. She has sharp features and a scattering of freckles across her skin. Obviously apprehensive, evident from the sweat that now formed on his brow, he stayed back in the shadow of the alley, peering around the corner. Had they killed the boy? That was stupid, of course they had. They were clearly armed. Were they like him, perhaps? Cast down from the strange light above into this... place?

His narrowed eyes squinted as he observed them, waiting to see what they would do next. If they were some kind of people hunters then his life could in danger if he remained for too long. And yet that curiosity remained. There was a certain power to being a killer, there had to be. Such was the law of the food chain, after all. Gripping the dagger up his sleeve even tighter, he prepared for anything unexpected, ready to run if need be, ready to strike out too. He edged out further from the corner slowly, staring at the two, eyes flitting from the body to the two and to the body again. What was the story? What had happened? Maybe the guy deserved it. It was a terrifying idea that murder was such a prominent aspect of life in this world, that it could be found so casually in the street like this.

His attention was drawn to the two people again. The girl had spoken to the large boy, something he couldn't quite make out. Straining his ears to concentrate, he was startled as the girl suddenly whirled around. Eye widening in surprise, he quickly shot backwards, tripping and stumbling onto his butt in an effort to get out of sight. Had she seen him? Shit, he hadn't been careful enough. Getting to his feet, he could hear what they were saying now.

"Hey Trick, you didn't look early, right?"

It was the girl, calling out to someone. Her friend? Why so loudly? She must be trying to bait him out from his hiding place, psychological warfare and all. But then a male voice called out right after.

"Early, you count too fast, I'm not done yet."

He frowned, thinking. The voice sounded quieter, further off. So it wasn't the larger boy that had spoken, unless he was really good at throwing his voice. By now, sweat was dripping down his chin and onto the ground, his heart pounding. A group of armed individuals who were clearly experienced in the field of killing people. It was quite posibly the scariest thing to imagine being trapped in a desolate part of the city with them. And here was the icing on the cake:

"Well then, looks like we've got an audience then."

A stab of shock was sent through his chest as his eyes widened further. Shit, he'd been caught. His hand ached from clutching the dagger now. What should he do? They hadn't moved yet, so he wasn't in any immediate danger. He was not surrounded or trapped, as far as he knew. He could escape, probably. Did he want to escape? Would escape help him? These thoughts swirled about his head as he struggled for an answer. Perhaps it would be better to come clean, walk out into the open. No, they'd kill him if he did. At least he could run if they tried. The girl might catch him, but the larger boy would likely fall behind in a chase. Damn, what should he do?

Ever so slowly, attempting to just edge one eye around the corner, he peered at them again. They were on the move, silently making their way to the body. He pulled back again. They were getting closer. Soon, his options would dwindle to nothing. He had to do something, anything. It was then that a plan began to form in his head. Pulling the sleeve on his left arm taught, he took the dagger and sliced it off at the shoulder. He then proceeded to do the same with the other. With that done, he listened out once more to check if the others had drawn any closer before continuing his work. Tieing both strips of robe together, he fashioned a sort of belt. Tieing it around his waiste, he then tucked the dagger into the back, hilt facing up. It was a cheap trick, but if he could make them believe he was somehow unarmed, it would give him an advantage if they tried to attack him.

Now was the big moment, time to put his life on the line. Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves, he, quite deliberately, stepped out from behind his cover of the alleyway and into direct view. They both stopped, the larger boy stating:

"Huh, well this is unusual."

The girl whistled to the third person.

The large boy narrowed his eyes: "So... what family sent you?"

Hands open by his side, he gave them an apprehensive look of his own, frowning slightly. What did they mean by 'family'? A group, he supposed, probably not by actual blood. It seemed tribal in that sense. Of course, the wrong answer would likely get him killed, so he would have to chose his carefully.

"I... don't belong to a family."

It told them enough. Hopefully, they would believe he strong enough to make it on his own, or something to that effect. Being seen as weak, as inevitable as it was in his situation given the outnumbered circumstances he faced, would be detrimental at this point. They were wary, it seemed, so they weren't assuming anything about him. Good and bad, then. They wouldn't simply attack him just yet, or so he hoped, but it also meant they weren't underestimating him if it did come to that. He kept up his poker face, his sharp features meeting their gaze.

"Liar," the girl said, "Or maybe just stupid."
So they didn't believe him. That suited him, he didn't need them to know everything about him with complete certainty. Knowledge was power, after all.

"Which... which family do you belong to?"

"He's a liar," the girl whispered to the larger boy.

"Yes yes, I heard you the first time. Shut it Crim, the boy wants to know what family we belong to." The boy raised a large arm and snapped his fingers, loud in the silence.

The young man suddenly pitched forward unexpectedly, feeling something slamming into his back. Stumbling forward a few steps, a sharp pain flared at his side. Glancing down, he saw a dagger lying at his feet. For the third time today, his eyes widened in shock. Someone had thrown a dagger at him, the one tucked into the belt at his back having luckily deflected it.

"Wh... why?"

He started edging back to the alley, glancing about to try and find the person that had thrown the dagger. This had definitely been a trap and now he was paying the price. Who knew how many more there were, waiting to strike at the right opportunity. He picked up the dagger from the floor.

"I don't know who sent you or if you just wandered in on accident, but this is my territory. Anyone who comes here is our prey." The fat boy said.

"I'm not owned by anyone. I... I just got here..."

The young man bared his teeth from frustration, the scowl on his face beaded with sweat as he disappeared around the alley's corner. Shit, he'd admitted that he was new. Prey. Fuck. Fully turning around now, he took off at a sprint, aiming to get away as fast as possible. But where? He ran across the street and kept going, moving down another alley and crossing yet another street, not looking back. By now, he was moving South East, having ran in the opposite direction of where those people had been. If that was their territory, then it would do him no good staying there. He'd need a place to rest. Hopefully, he'd find a territory with a more benevolent owner.

Glancing back again, he saw them chasing him. He was ahead, but not by enough. Someone was jumping from atop the rooftops. Gritting his teeth, he sharply turned an alley corner, moving futher south again. He glanced back, they weren't there yet. Perfect. He ducked into one of the buildings. That would stop the guy up top from tracking him. He moved through doorways into another building, throwing his back against a wall as he caught his breath.

He could hear running footsteps, but he couldn't see anyone just yet. He couldn't stop, not yet. Getting up, he ran through another doorway into yet another building and stepped to the side. Lifting the dagger in his hand, he flattened against the wall and waited for someone to run through. The second they did, he would stab them right in chest. He wasn't sure if he could do it though, could he murder a person? Was he capable? Something within told him he was, but he had no idea why.

He was broken from his thoughts as he heard footsteps. It was time. He brought his knife up and stabbed to the side, the blade's tip flying at the person's chest. It was intercepted and he realised it was the girl, who had grabbed the weapon. They wrestled for control over the blade, but it seemed to be a losing battle for the girl. He slowly forced the blade upon her, then swinging her around to slam her into the wall. Hoping that the hit would have disorientated her, he pressed the knife closer to her.

It was then that the third person decided to drop in the doorway. Shit, he had to end this quickly. It was then that the dagger they were both holding let out an electrical shock that zapped both him and the girl. Disorientated, he recovered quickly and drew his dagger and attempted to shove it between her ribs. Through skill or luck, she managed to twist her body so that the blade only scrapped against her ribs, tearing the skin and leaving a shallow wound. The two were then zapped once more by the other dagger.

Instead of trying to push the electrified dagger into the girl, the young man now pulled it sharply, ripping it from her grasp. Knowing another shock was coming, he promptly turned his body and threw it at the guy in the door way, aiming to lodge it in his chest. Of course, the guy catches it, but it distracts him for long enough. Grabbing the girl by her dagger-arm, the young man pulled her from the wall and stepped around her, putting her between him and the other guy. A flying knife lodged itself in the girl's shoulder, thrown from the guy behind her. Despite the battle going on, despite how desperate the situation was, the young man smiled grimly in spite of himself.

Kicking her back into the guy so that they both collided, he then thrusted his knife forward, to stab the girl in the neck whilst keeping a close eye out for what her dagger was doing. But it was not to be. A bright light materialised from behind the girl, glaring out and filling his view. He lost consciousness. Everything turned to black.

CLEAR

 

[Neon Valkyrie]

?

Family: --
Kills: 1

F23 A pale, lithe young woman with modest proportions, and long, messy, russet hair. She is neither short, nor tall, and her large green eyes and aquiline features often rest in an apprehensive way.

Location: Atop a building, between Red and Yellow.

The sun had gone, passed ahead some time ago and rolled it's angry way into the distance. Now she was left in the dark, her back pressed against the ruddy wall of some second-story dwelling yet to be claimed. Her knife still clutched between white-knuckled fingers, she twisted the tip of the blade against her finger. She couldn't see the cut, couldn't see the blood, but she could feel it, warm and thick, as it drooled down her finger. What horrible gods would create such a place?

Pushing herself up from the base of the wall, she moved to the doorway. Off in the distance, the sickly red light drew slowly across the landscape, illuminating ever more of those awful, simple stone buildings. She'd been watching for hours, hoping to spot something meaningful in the landscape, something indicative, but there was nothing ... just ever more of those wretched tooth-shaped homes. Frustration and hopelessness welled up in her stomach as her mind scrambled ever more frantically to find some meaning in this horrible contest.

With a pained grunt she returned to the back wall, slumping to the base where she'd been sitting since finding the building. Tears threatened the corners of her eyes as she clenched them shut, pulling her knees up to her chest, her knife balanced in her lap. Much as she hated it, she was still afraid of the pain she'd felt when her knife was in someone else's hands. Maybe that was the answer then? She could feel it's weight against her skin, feel the outline of the sharp edge. Maybe she could just take her own life? Maybe that was the only real answer. In a room with no doors, death is the only escape ...

She felt her narrow fingers slip easily around the hilt, turning the point to face her tender underbelly. The tip wasn't the kind of surgical sharpness she might have desired for the act ... it would hurt, it would hurt a lot. A sob escaped from her lips before she clapped her hand over the rest of the sound, the point still pressed painfully against her stomach ...

She couldn't do it ... for all the misery she could foresee here, her hand stilled whenever she told it to end all of this. She swallowed another sob as the knife fell back into her lap limply.

This was all that horned man's fault. He seemed to be the only one with any kind of power around here, the only one not playing the game. What was he getting out of this? Enjoyment, power? He'd showed up after she killed that man ... maybe he would show up again if she just ...

NO! No she'd narrowly survived her first encounter. That boy ... the one on the roof, he'd cautioned her against leaving her life in luck's hands, but what else could she do? She wasn't a fighter ...

A sound from outside drew her attention. Voices ... a group of them, speaking jovially. She knew better than to assume that a cheerful voice was anything but a trap, here in the dark. Inching closer to the door, to the edge of the roof, she didn't dare peek over the edge, not that she'd be able to see anything anyway. There were three distinct voices, two men and a woman.

"... it's just up ahead, a small break from ... well, all of this. A place where you can be free to enjoy yourself ... we can discuss payment later ..." The woman's laugh carried sultry notes.