The Taste of Blood [Private, Quinton & Eris]

At first, the cold wet floor was all that Quinton could feel against his body. He laid crumbled on the floor of some damp, dark cell. As he slowly steered, a stiff cough came out from him, followed by his hand shooting to his lower gut. As the coughing slowed, and his eyes wondered down, he could just make out by the dim light of a torch a very shoddy stitch job on an infected wound. “Shit…” The words hung softly on his lips as he rolled onto his back, grunting as he tried to lift his head up before letting it hang back down. His other hand felt around his person and the surroundings that he could reach, searching for his sword at the least, but no luck. Mustering up what strength he could, Quinton rolled onto his knees with another cough. He hadn’t the slightest idea of where he was at, but he needed to escape quickly.

Crawling his way towards the door, a plan was already starting to hatch in his head as he grabbed a small pebble and some straw from his nearby make-shift mat. Grabbing the thick metal, the young man just managed to pull himself up. His arms were just enough to hold him up as he fumbled with his two tools. So far, he had hoped to channel just enough energy into that small pebble then dangle it in front of the lock to blow it up, but he wouldn’t have the chance to set his plans in motion. In a small moment of weakness, his grip faded just enough to lose a hold of the pebble, it hitting the floor and rolling away. With another grunt, Quinton slide down the bars to the floor, reaching and arm out for the pebble, his side practically splitting in half with pain.

The pain was so great he couldn’t even hear the sound of approaching footsteps, before a hard stomp landed on his outreached arm. A groan of pain rang out from Quinton as the guard dug his heel into his forearm, making it almost feel as if his arm was going to snap before the pain finally let up. His arm shot back to his body, the man curling up in pain as the guard chuckled to himself. Soon, the pain was to much as Quinton passed out again.

By the time he had come too again, he was being dragged about, two guards dragging him along with his feet dangling behind him. His head could barely bring itself up, grimacing as the pain of the wound will persisted. All around him, the sounds of people chatting became present. His head was just able to roll to the left, looking out to what appeared to be a dinner party, but every guest was dressed in a red cloak. Men and women alike, the difference was only noticeable when someone spoke. His almost limp body was finally dumped to the floor, but not before his wound was reopened. A painful shout rang out from Quinton was a blade dug into him, hands rushing to the now bleeding wound. With his hands blooded now, a hand reached out for some kind of support, unable to even hear the nearby man that had been chanting during his moment of pain. Unknowing to him, the stone base he begun to crawl up was an altar of an ancient evil that everyone there had been worshiping. The Lady of Red.

Quinton's trembling arm was all that was keeping him from slipping back down to the floor, blood beginning to pour out from the wound, knife still embedded into his side. "S-shit..." The pain buzzed through his body, muffling the noise around him of laughter and cheering as the ring leader called for one of the guards to finish him off. The adrenaline began kicking in just in time as Quinton's vision focused right onto a man coming at him with a knife in hand. As the big brute came down at him with the knife, Quinton rolled out of the way with renewed vigor, causing the knife to came down right on the altar instead. Knowing he had to act, Quinton quickly jumped onto the back of the man, reached around and grabbed at the knife, easily ripping it from the guards surprised hands and without hesitation, he ripped it right into the man's neck.

The blood from the guards throat splattered before he quickly went limp, leaving Quinton to stagger back and hold the knife up defensively. The crowd hushed as the young warrior staggered where he stood. The pain that had been tormenting him so greatly had suddenly subsided, the memory of it forgotten so quickly thanks to the adrenaline. He felt like he could run at the speed of light, but that quickly faded. During the struggle, Quinton had wound up only causing the blade to push further in, causing it to splice into an organ. By now, Quinton had lost far to much blood, his knees quaking as he suddenly fell backwards. The color drained from his face as he bleed out quickly. His eyes quickly grew heavy as his breathing slowed.

It wasn't hard to tell that this was it. He wasn't going to make it out this time. He was too far gone now. He had come so far to find out what had happened to his family, but now he was going to end up just like them. And in his last moments, he regretted it all. He was foolish to think he could actual do something against an unknown opponent that was able to slaughter everyone he loved so easily, and he paid the ultimate price for it. Not even out of his twenties, and with him would come the end of his families bloodline of proud warriors. And with that came his end, not with a bang like a warrior like himself would like, but with a sad whimper into the dark.

At first, there was nothing. No light, no sound, not even the presence of mind to even attempt to comprehend what was happening to the now deceased young man. Everything simply came to be in a matter of mere moments. Quinton’s eyes darted open as he shot upright in bed, his heart pounding in his chest. “H-how…?” A hand rested against his chest, his mind racing. He had died, he was sure of it. His wound was infected, and he was bleeding fast enough to simply collapse on the spot. He shouldn’t have been breathing right now.

His eyes looked up, looking for any kind of answer when his breathing slowed greatly. He was… home. “This can’t be real…” Quinton hadn’t been in his room back at home in ages… because it wasn’t there anymore. He left here years ago because everything was gone… “Am I dreaming?” His mind couldn’t even figure out what was real now. What part of his life had just been suddenly fabricated in mere moments. Was he just hallucinating now, or did he dream up everything he had been through? Everything here seemed so real, but he needed to make sure. Throwing the covers off of himself, Quinton stumbled out of bed as he quickly began to walk through the halls of his old home.

Not a single thing seemed out of place. Even looking out the windows, he could see the wide open fields with towering mountains in the distance of his birthplace. As he came to the stairs, he could hear someone downward, prompting his heart to skip a beat. “It can’t be…” Slowly, Quinton stepped down, gulping as he almost felt himself afraid of what he’d see. At the bottom, he could hear the noise coming from the kitchen, prompting him to slowly press his back to the wall and creep towards the doorway.

As he peered in, Quinton almost felt his legs give out from under him… His mother… Standing there working away as she seemed to be cooking something. The young man simply stood in the doorway with a dumbfounded look on his face. “M-mom?” His voice finally called out meekly, not sure if what he was really seeing was real.

That fantasy quickly weathered away when the face of whoever it was standing across the room from him became visible. What was there wasn’t the kind, gentle, caring face of his mother he had known, instead there was nothing but the husk that was left. Maggots crawled about the rotten flesh of her face, eyes long since rotted away. It had been so unexpecting for Quinton that he had been sent head over heels and onto the floor, crawling backwards before his back hit against the wall.

The eerie moans that came from the decaying corpse had put the man in a shock, unable to even think as the phantom that was his mother crept closer to him. Just as the spectre had raised a bony hand up to point at him, a second body appeared behind her, grabbing the remains of his mother by the head and slitting the still fleshy throat wide up, causing a strain of blood to spray out and splash over Quinton’s face, temporarily blinding him.

After his hands had whipped the blood away, the only thing in his sight was that of the man who had just assault whatever it was that was taking on the appearance of his mother. The man, unlike the other, was not decayed, he was not some fiendish creature, it was a mere mortal man. The man that had taken everything from him. The fear that was just with the young warrior quickly faded, being replaced with a burning hatred. But as he scrambled up onto his feet and tried to charge for the man, everything suddenly burned away.

It was impossible for him to understand what was happening to him at this point, no sense even able to feel what was happening around him before a searing pain ripped through his body. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before in his life. As his muscles grew, so did the struggling her gave to some form of resistance around his neck, the only other thing he could feel at this point.

As his airways finally started to form, he was dropped and left to crumble down onto a floor as Quinton gasped for air, unable to quench the burning that he was still left with. He felt unbelievably weak, not even able to lift his head up enough to see who it was that stood in front of him. Every attempt to pull himself up ended with him collapsing over and over. Slowly, he stumbled closer to the wall, not realizing just what it was he gripped onto to slowly pull himself upwards, eventually able to see someone in front of him.

His entire body still trembled with phantom like pains, the memory of what he had just gone through burned into his very flesh. He hadn’t a single idea who it was that stood in front of him, but she towered over his own impressive height. The anger that had swelled up in him remained ever present, pushing him to lash out, but the mere presence of the woman in front of him kept his body still.

“W-where am I…” His voice crackled as the words left his lips. “I-I was… dead…” Nothing made sense to him at this point. There wasn’t a chance that he could still be alive, not after what he had gone through. And there was no magic on the face of the earth that could change that fact.