Thorn of Shadows

     For Narl and his bandits, this day was just another for his clan of bandits. A little mayhem, pillaging and taking from the next village his clan happened to find themselves in; that was what the man breathed for.     “Whatcha up to, Reutt?” He asked grinning as his companion tried to force himself on the young girl before them.     "The girl is playin’ hard to get, Narl.” The snaggle toothed bandit grinned hideously as the girl whimpered until a man lifted Reutt off of her.        “No spoiling the merchandise!” Their leader, the wanted rogue known as Arsher Fenn, growled at Reutt. The smaller man hopped and growled at him.     “She is among my spoils, Arsher! You cannot just-”     The smaller, angrier bandit didn't finish as the rogue held a short sword to his throat making him freeze in place.     “I am sorry, I cannot do what now?”     Reutt began smiling nervously holding his hands up. “N-nothing, sorry boss!”     “That’s what I thought. Now go, enjoy your spoils in food and whatever wench and fool remains with our crew.” The handsome bandit grinned, taking the girl who whimpered snivelling.     Narl looked at his partner and grinned. “Well done buddy, you definitely showed him.” He laughed as he patted the irritated Reutt’s back.     “Shut it Narl...  One day ‘dat bastard gon’ be knocked off his pedestal.” Reutt said as they walked back to the center of the village.     “Maybe, but it ain’t gon' be by-”     They didn't finish as they saw a few of the villagers flee to the forest and cursed. “Great. Time to hunt.” Narl sighed as the two grinned and gave chase.     Inside the forest, the middle aged villager, Reish, ran in darkness with his daughter of twenty not wanting to be found as the two bandits caught up.     “Satasha, stay quiet.” He whispered as the two remained hidden between bushes and trees.     “Papa they still have Mia-”     “I know but we don't have the means to save her yet. For now we will just have to get somewhere safe.”     “Look you two we know you’re out here. You know have ten more strong bodies to bring you back before dawn arises.”     “Or we can just take it out on whoever your family is in the village. Place so small of people, you have to know someone.” Narl grinned. “Brother? Sister? We will break them into the way of things till they have nothing left.”     Reish resisted the urge to talk but looked at his daughter who was in tears at the thought of Mia being violated by this scum of the earth.     “Stay hidden.” He whispered making Satasha’s eyes widen.     “Papa, what-”     He planted a firm kiss on her forehead and stood before the two bandits with his hands up.     “It's just me.”     “Where is the one you ran with?” Reutt asked, raising a brow.     “Separated on the way in.” Reish swallowed as Narl and Reutt circled him like predators.     “Good for them. But very bad for you.” Narl grinned as Reutt licked his lips.     “What should we do, Narl. Cut him open?”     “Maybe,” Narl said as he looked at  the smaller villager in his eyes. “Wouldn’t mind that strong jaw around my cock.”     “More an ass man, myself.” Reutt grinned agreeing, filling Reish with dread; the thought of death starting to be the better hopeful event.     But before any could do anything further, the two bandits looked into the forest hearing footsteps inside the forest.     Satasha no!     “Oh that must be the friend. Don't worry, we will break her too.” Narl grinned as he and Reutt moved further into the forest leaving Reish.     “Come on out girl, you can't hide from-”     Reutt froze as fast as Narl’s words went silent. Something about the air felt thicker, like an invisible fog as they saw someone in a shroud walk up.     “The f**k? Who are you?” Reutt asked.     “Where is Arsher Fenn,” The voice asked, to which Reish noted a deep but also raspiness to it. But what he felt most of all was the edge in it's tone.     “The f**k you want the boss for?” The bandit, Narl, asked wondering who this fucker before him was.     “I will ask you again, where is Arsher Venn?” The man asked not changing his stride as he moved upon the bandits.     “Listen you f**k, you are in no position to demand questions here.” Reutt said moving forward with bravado as the wind immediately shifted. A note that made Narl’s hair stand in alerted danger.     “Reutt-!”     He didn't finish as his friend was snatched up by the figure who moved backwards with the wind silently.     Narl froze as the only sounds he could hear was the tearing of flesh, the breaking of bone, and the slow muffled screams of Reutt in the echoing forest.     What the fuck..?     As the forest went silent he heard something being thrown. What it was that fell in his chest? The horrified expression of Reutt’s bodiless head, causing Narl to match it as he screamed and chucked the head.     “Son of a b***h!” Narl whimpered as he fell backwards.     “That he was,” The same deep voice answered.     As he looked, Narl went pale as he saw the body of the shroud stood taller, as if he grew six inches taller.     But by the red glow, crimson like blood, Narl knew it could only be one man. If you could call him such a thing.     “You… y-you’re the-”     “You have heard all the stories. You know who I am.” The figure said spawning two blades that glowed the same red. “And like the thousands I have taken before, like the master you serve in your little band.”     He spun the blades which made the sound of a vibrant whistle as they flexed with his wrists, his eyes speaking as his one voice became many.     “Be. Our. Victim.”     Narl finally found his voice and ran screaming.     “THE BLUD! THE KAGE OF BLUD IS HERE!”     As he looked at the bandit who ran, Reish remained still and horrified as he heard the man screaming the title. For if it was who the bandit was shouting, then he dared not to look.     For years, Reish had heard this being mentioned as something of a myth. A man of unknown power, who claimed a victim of any who dared to see him a threat. Many titles in each land had been given: The Berseker of the West, The Reaver of Kirshla, The Kage of Blud as the bandit frantically just shouted. But the name of oldest memory is one he couldn't bring himself to speak as the figure was a breath behind him.     “Is it true...  Are you him?”     The figure didn't speak but an odd hissing sound could be heard. “You smell of fear, old man. But you are not my prey today.”      As the figure walked by, he saw the body of a tall framed man in a robe; muscled, but deceptively slimness, Reish felt something else in the man’s presence. Like a heavy weight in the air.     “Papa!”     Reish looked as his daughter ran to him and hugged him close. A feeling the elder man returned.     “That man, Papa. Who is he?”     Reish looked at the head laying on the ground and looked back at the figure who stalked towards their village.     “Death, Satasha. What that man is, is pure death.”     At the fire in the village, the bandits all laughed and ate as they told stories.     “Hey,” One known as Fren said hearing screams from the forest. “What is that?”     “Sounds like that fool, Narl.” Another said as the screams got closer. Fren looked confused as he stood.     “Why does he sound like he is in agony.”     “Probably had his c**k bitten off by the two that ran. He and Reutt are always trying to have their way.”     As he saw Narl reach the light of the fire, Fren widened his eyes as his fellow bandit ran up covered in blood and eyes filled with fear. “THE KAGE OF BLUD IS-”     The bandit didn't finish as something wrapped him by the neck and yank him upward and back into the shadows, alerting the whole band as they jumped up to the gurgling gags and screams of their companion in the darkness.     “What the f**k?! Get the bows and arrows boys!”     As Fren spoke all jumped back hearing a loud, yet wet rippling sound before Narl’s top half at them.     “Fire at the f*****g trees!” Fren said as the villagers coward back, the bandits firing at wherever a high sound could be heard.     Another bandit was impaled before being yanked up and down, being into every hard surface.     Fren paled as he saw another blade of sorts wrap around another bandits ankle, completely detaching the man's foot and ankle in one yank.     “My fuckin’ foot!” The bandit cried out as he clutched his footless leg. “Who the f**k is-”      The bandit couldn’t continue as a hand grabbed him by the head and forced him to look inside a hooded helmet of blood.     “About to rip your f*****g head off.” The gravelly voice finished for the bandit. He hardly found time to let out his scream as his head was turned in two directions, completely being severed by the single hand of his attacker. Fren backed away as three more bandits pulled out blades and charged at him. “Don’t you fools-” The three were soon dispatched by the robed figure, who moved with swift yet violent grace with his twin blades. The first was split in half immediately while the second was met with a decapitation in the same diagonal swing. The last bandit was met with a single thrust before the attacker grabbed his throat and continued his savage assault. Fren stared as the monster looked at him and found the strength to slowly walk backwards. “F-Fren…” The bandit inside the monster's hands didn't finish as he was impaled by the clawed glove of his attacker and dropped on the ground screaming as the monster ripped his flesh from bone. The sight was enough to shoot adrenaline through Fren to run hoping to use his dying friend to escape.     Inside the house on the other side of the village, Mia whimpered beneath the man who called himself Arsher Venn, who despite his handsome and soft features, was anything but as he moved against her.     But even among his grunts and the movement of the bed, the girl could hear the sounds of screaming outside.     “S-sir. There is screams-”     “And you expect me to stop for some villagers being killed or r***d?” He asked with a hiss as he kissed her neck.     “But they’re not-”     She didn't finish as he gripped her throat and squeezed to keep her quiet so he could hear the screams.     Indeed she was right; the screams were not of the villagers but of his own men. That much he could tell by his Second’s, Fren’s, voice.     “Stay here.” He ordered     Mia immediately covered herself up in fear as Arsher grabbed his sword and walked out.     “Fren, what are yelling on about?”     “A demon is here-” He didn't finish as something yanked him into the darkness behind him, the only thing heard were his screams which followed right after.     Arsher stared wide eyed before glaring as he pulled out his blade. “The f**k are you?!”     As Fren’s screams ended in a gagging sound, the figure stepped forward rubbing his hands as though he had just used them.     “Is there a reason you just killed my best man, friend?” Arsher growled as he moved around the figure.     “He and your band were doing some very bad things. But killing and raping is something you specialize in particularly, isn’t it Arsher?”     The bandit blinked, coming to a hard stop on the man’s left as he was taken aback by his name.     “Have we met before, friend?” To which the figure lifted his head slowly in his direction.     “You really don't remember? That night you took part in taking my family,”     To that, Arsher smiled as though that gave any clarity whatsoever to him. “I have killed many families, my friend. r***d the wives and daughters of just as many,” He said swinging his sword in a spiral.     “What is one more among the long list?!” He said and charged at him lifting his sword to decapitate the man.     But in a blur of motion, he was met with a block from a sword that sprung seemingly from nowhere.     “What the f**k?!”     “Allow me then, to re-educate you.” The figure said. It was then that Arsher got a good look into the man’s eyes behind his faceplate mask. Although they glowed a bright red crimson, the shape of them remained uniquely familiar to the bandit.     It’s not possible.     “Oh it is,” The figure said as though he cou and began to lead an assault with his second blade that also formed out of thin air, streaking by with blood.     Arsher barely had a chance to react as the blade was countered with his own, but not before the streaking blood splattered into his eye stunning him.     The man continued to press his assault; switching his blades from one to the other with a set of smooth arcs and spins that Arsher not only saw… but felt before.     With a swift kick to the man’s groin, the bandit growled before impaling his attacker through the stomach, the latter grunting from the stab. With a semblance of renewed zeal, the bandit grinned before sliding the blade further.     As he did however, the man gripped his blade and began to pull it deeper into himself. The bandit could only watch in heart sinking horror as he pulled the blade back out.     “That's impossible, that should’ve killed you.” Arsher said to the smaller man backing away as the figure slumped forward.     “If I were that easy you would have finished me in Lelant.”     At that name, Arsher felt as though the heat of the village had been snuffed out completely. It was then that Arsher began to fill the void of all the pieces. The eyes, the way he moved with his swords, it could only be one man.     “By the Gods…” Arsher then dropped his blade feeling the urge to suddenly run. “It's you, isn’t it?”     “Took you long enough, pretty boy.” The figure said as the facemask vanished revealing the angular face beneath. The face was tan and angelic, but heavily scarred in deep lacerations along the bridge of his nose, forehead and cheeks. But what face showed a smile hinted nothing kind… nor gentle intent.     Feeling the intensity of the red eyes, Arsher tried to run, only to be halted by something impaling his stomach.     “Hurts doesn't it?” The voice asked as he was yanked back off his feet.     “There is no way you could be alive… we made sure-”     The bandit didn't finish as a hand gripped tight enough to close off his windpipe. With little effort, he was raised off the ground and met with a grin that became more inhuman by the second. “You didn't do a good enough job, pretty boy.”     “Please… Malachai…”     “YOU DON’T GET TO SAY THAT NAME YOU PIECE OF s**t!”     He then impaled the man, wrapping his fist around his heart slowly, the claws of his gauntlet causing a great deal of agony.     “You will be the message for which Adam will see. That his days as Adamus Corvus, Regent of Lelant, are numbered. As they had been for over a decade.” He said as he tugged the whimpering bandits heart upward as his opposite hand impaled him all the way to his spine.     “And when he hears the whispers of how I revealed you to the world. How I intend to reveal all who played a part in what happened that night,”     He said as the slow tearing of flesh became audible, the bandit coughing up blood the further he was stretched.     “And they know that in the death of Malachai Thorne, King of Lelant, they awoken me,” The man once known as shook his head violently and pleadingly for one last time, before all that connected his lower half was his outstretched spine; his heart yanked cleanly from the newly gaping torso.     “Malachai.” He said closing his eyes as the blood of his prey crept into him. “Kage of Blud.” He gulped in every last drop his body would take until it was satisfied. As a pulse of thirst became quenched, his vengeance sated, the undead king smiled at the moon as he felt his demon within also grinned at the bloodlust it fed from, smiling next to his shoulder.     “Thorn of Lelant.”