[5-10] Flights of Fancy (Christa and Red)

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

As he watched the woman fall, locked and dragged to the earth by the invader’s sinister grasp, adrenaline drove Red to action. He immediately leapt forward, curling his lip into a snarl as he closed the gap between the two hunters. Before his nimble limbs could push him more than a few meters, however, the burgundy beast was met with the all-too-familiar call of savage gibberish from the lips of yet another brutish human. Said screeching marked the entrance of a small squadron of wildmen, their sinewy bodies hunched low, skin pulled taut over their malnourished forms. Small bits of bone and plant fiber dotted the greasy, knotted hair that hung past their shoulders, providing the only semblance of modesty aside from a few meager scraps of leather over their unmentionables. Each bore their own makeshift weapon, the leader of the group -a particularly tall and skinny fellow- wielding what Nanaki presumed to be a human femur.

“Nach na’galas!” Slim cried, brandishing his osseous truncheon. His thin lips twisted into a mocking grin, exposing broken, uneven teeth. Red could feel his pulse pounding as their eyes met, muddy brown drilling into his brilliant amber. The savage’s gaze was focused. Intent. Murderous. ”Kha’la!” he announced with finality, his followers springing into action.

The fiery feline sidestepped the first of the bunch, expertly avoiding the greedy, grimy digits of the cannibal. As the next neared, thrusting a makeshift spear with murderous intent, Nanaki dropped low, barrel rolling out of the savage’s range. Out of the corner of his good eye he could see that Christa had taken the advantage, brutally ending the life of her attacker. Satisfied that she was no longer in direct danger, the fiery feline turned to face the next pair of rampaging butchers, each wielding a pair of bones (deer, he hoped) fashioned into daggers. He lashed out at the first, raking his claws across the foe’s abdomen, carving deep lacerations into his flesh and spilling fresh blood over the dried iron that had served as the psychopath’s warpaint. Before the crimson Prime could properly appreciate the man’s whimpering he felt the bite of a dagger in his belly, the dirty blade sending shockwaves of agony through his body. Snarling with pain-induced rage, the burgundy beast whipped his head around, snapping his jaws shut over his attacker’s neck. With the savagery of an alpha defending its pack, Nanaki tore the cannibal’s trachea free, dropping the hunk of sopping gore onto the moist ground as its former owner thrashed in his final throes. 

“Leave,” the enraged felid gnarred, the pain of his puncture wound deadened by the hormonal cocktail flooding his veins. His monosyllabic command quite literally fell on deaf ears as a trio of savages pressed the attack once more, cackling with glee. As they neared, Red caught sight of another of the group cutting into the still-writhing body of their comrade. 

With renewed vigor the feline turned tail, crashing through the forest in an effort to draw the savages away from Christa. With her wounded limb she would not be able to put up as much of a fight as she normally did. Darting nimbly through the trees, Nanaki cast a glance over his shoulder, counting four murderous freaks scampering in his wake. He wasn’t sure just how many had arrived to greet them, but he hoped he had managed to kite them all. The Prime continued to dart through the woods, stopping abruptly as an enormous structure came into view. At a glance it seemed to be a sort of wooden obelisk, some two stories in height, a narrow five feet at the base. The top of the edifice burned with a bright flame, casting light over the ever-darkening area. In the midst of his throes of fury, the crimson feline paused to consider the strangeness of the tower among the trees. It was then that he realized the reason for the violent incursion; they had stumbled into the savages’ encampment. 

”Skree!” 

The call came from far to close behind as Nanaki again felt the dual sensation of weight on his back and the bite of a sharpened instrument against his once unmarred pelt. This time the crude instrument dug straight to the bone, its jagged tip rebounding painfully off of his scapula as its owner sounded yet another warcry. The Prime spun in place, chasing his tail as a confused puppy might, tossing the psycho from his back. Free of the cretin’s burden, Red set his sight on the downed man, leaping onto his chest in a single bound. Before the murderer could move to counter, the feral feline closed his jaws around the man’s forearm, snapping the malnourished cannibal’s bones like dead wood. With a twisting motion, he tore the man’s limb free at the elbow, tasting the sharp, acrid flavor of his blood. With the ferocity of a frenzied wildcat, Nanaki flung the limb into the woods, letting loose a blood-curdling howl. None would leave here.

The next of his attackers neared the raging feline, raising her own makeshift weapon in a foolhardy attempt at intimidation. Unfortunately for her, the wounded Prime was more than ready for another scuffle. His lips parted, a low growl slithering up his throat as lavender-azure energy began to rise from his body like smoke from a roaring bonfire. Enrobed in the mystical energies, Nanaki pushed off of the ground obliquely, expertly correcting his angle of assault and diving headlong toward his murderous foe. The grimy attacker tomahawked her weapon, the sharpened rock carving a thick gash across his face, though it didn’t matter. The feral feline felt nothing as he collided with the poor soul with the force of a mack truck, driving her flailing body into the outer wall of the pyre-pillar. Red felt bones crack and shatter as he drove his shoulder into her chest, snuffing out her life. As if to protest his actions, the pillar let out a creaking groan as the nearest pair of its poorly-anchored limbs unearthed themselves from the ground, causing the edifice to tip and sink in slow motion into the treeline. An audible hiss was heard as the roaring fire atop the structure struck timber, igniting the canopy. 

As the energies of his technique faded, Red watched with interest as the structure enkindled the treeline, the fire rapidly fanning out in all directions. Having successfully dispatched his foes, he turned to head back toward Christa; if they did not flee the area soon, they would become trapped by the same smoke and flame. This thought remained in his mind for just a moment before he heard heavy breathing from behind him, turning to catch sight of the forgotten fourth cannibal, bringing a large rock down over his head in one clean motion. 

Darkness.

2299 words per Google Docs, both posts.