CHPT 287: What Am I Becoming? Who Will Face the Consequences of my Transformation...?
Ever since Claude stepped foot out of SkyHaven, his brain had felt like a storage bin full of DireRats in heat. It didn't take long for either to reach maximum capacity. A new discovery-- thought or realization was born every day like the unwanted spread of rodents in an abandoned home...every single day, he grew closer. Closer to the very moment he was experiencing currently.
There was little more left. Little room for any more change or adjustment to what he held dearly. There was too much in too little time.
And now, he stood in the forest of a new world, witnessing the true reach of the Midnight Wardens and the horrifying treatment they demanded of Monsters. That was the second problem....he found himself being sympathetic to Monsters. The very things that demanded slaying for one to become a Hero. Something he once believed he'd be. But, after every full moon...he felt further from such a title. And now he stood, on his own, so far from the word that he found his rage rising steadily at the sight of a Monster being tortured.
Was that wrong? Was his change to a Monster more psychological than he could've perceived? In becoming a Monster, had he developed sympathy for those like himself?
A sea of similar and contradictory questions continued to fill his fading rational mind. Continuing to take up a quickly shrinking space, made worse by the swelling tide of anger that swept his mind and body closer to the flaming shore of madness.
Slowly, a headache began to split his skull as if the thoughts and questions that were developing had actually reached maximum capacity within his mind.
"[Claude, talk to m--]"
The Banshee's beautifully dark song rose from it's horrified and pained face, causing the human Leader, Randall to kick the creature in the face.
"Shut it!"
Crack!
A tooth flew from the creatures mouth and rolled across the marsh floor before fading out of existence as blueish smoke.
The action pulled Claude to his feet before he was quickly pulled back to his knees by the headache suddenly becoming violently severe to the point that he almost fell out of the tree he occupied.
BMP!
"rrrrRRRRrr....."
"[Claude, what's the matter? Claude!]"
His words sounded far away again. Not a good sign.
Groggily he opened his eyes and raised his head to look back at the massacred field. Only, what he saw before wasn't there to greet him this time.
Instead, he saw Samuel. Samuel and Tai on a stone floor in a cave fighting off dozens of DireRats.
They fought valiantly. Moving with the professionalism and confidence of two brothers that fought together often. With Tai at the back healing and buffing his brothers abilities, the Dark Knight, Samuel, looked invincible. The smile on his face supported that fact as he worked to keep the rats alive so he could burn them longer in a sadistic attempt to enjoy the battle.
Torture. Again. He was mad then too.
BMP!
The headache rocked his skull again, plunging his vision behind a red haze before clearing to show a new sight.
Maris. She lay where the Banshee once did. No longer in a marsh, but instead a home in a forest. Strapped to a wooden table covered in infected wounds and cuts while she screamed in anger, unknowing that he listened silently in the distance.
Torture. Again. And again. And again. With every pulse, his brain force fed him an instance of cruelty....violence-- injustice? And every-time, the tormentor and tormented wore different faces. Monster on human....human on Monster...Demon on Human...Monster on Monster.
Naivety truly was a curtain that could only be removed through ones own experiences.
Only now could he see the beginnings of something he wouldn't have believed before. Sure-- there were human criminals....but in a world were beings like thirteen foot tall scorpion demons exist, they fade out of existence. They lose importance in the face of greater matters. That was one of the problems with the world as a whole and Claude's own thought processes. He was so wrapped up in never becoming a mindless beast that he never considered the fact that maybe the transition from man to monster was more than physical most times.
Maybe it started as a choice. A simple choice, that you were done struggling. And then an easy way out presented itself, leading you into a Tangent on a Full Moon to endlessly torture and maim a creature that stood as the last of its kind in its own dark and beautiful world.
As he watched the Night Runners, the Banshee's beautiful howls continued to center his mind and allow him to think through a crystal clear lens.
Maybe they weren't yet monsters. But they'd taken the first steps down the path. They'd made the choice. Who knows how long it would take before they eventually moved onto humans-- like the other members of the Midnight Wardens he'd read about.
Monstrosity was on the horizon for them. Ice cold cruelty and unforgiving violence was only the beginning. Unless he stopped being useless, and moved.
As if on que, Randall sent another kick into the Banshee's ribs.
CRACK!
FWOO!
His mind shut off in a flash and his legs catapulted him from the trees with absolute preternatural power. The movement generated from his legs shook the trees, sending a tidal wave of wooden scratches echoing into the distance like a scratching roar that blended with his own to make him sound larger than life itself.
BOOM!
He landed on the Banshee in an explosion of soggy grass and water as the Night Runners that surrounded her bounded away in response.
The watery grounds still laden with electricity ran through his muscles, forcefully constricting them and doing little more than making him angrier than he'd already made himself.
When the water finally settled, he found himself looking at the surrounding Night Runners on all fours while he loomed over the Banshee like a beastial protective blanket.
He attempted to speak, but the shock of the watery ground and the affects of the Moon translated his words into territorial growls that shook the waters around him intensely.
Just like his nightmare....
"Holy shit! R-Randall.....RANDALL! That's a WereWolf!" The Dunce-- Tank yelled as the rich scent of fear and urine exploded from his massive body.
He panicked and swatted at the air in an attempt to tell them to leave as he tried to ignore the alluring scents of fear emanating from them all.
"Leave! Just get the hell out, please!" He raged, but all that came were more growls.
They continued to fearfully watch with their weapons raised as they flinched at each swipe in preparation for the attack they assumed would come any second.
But, they were combatants. And gritty ones at that. Opportunity only had to present itself for barely two seconds before they snapped at it.
Something in Randall's once fear-stricken face twisted, "You're not about to get in the way of my money, you ugly ass mutt!"
FWOO!
A flash of silver darted through the air, reflecting the Moonlight above as it sailed towards Claude.
SHNK!
His reflexes took hold of him, causing his arm to raise and absorb the sharp blow of the dagger as it sunk into his forearm.
Being the leader that he was, the group followed.
They let off a volley of attacks, both weapon and magic depleted by low Stamina and Mana reserves.
Metal sunk into his leather skin, icy fangs sliced through his dense fur, Lightning shocked his muscles, all in a flurry of chaos that he didn't want. They wouldn't listen.
After his roars climbed along with the Banshee's song, they thought victory was upon them. They didn't understand that he was trying to hold off the forest of creatures surrounding them with only seconds left before they disobeyed and swarmed the clearing like a tsunami of predators.
He really tried.
But by the time they exhausted their reserves. He was too far gone. Ferocity was always a moment away. And as they all sat breathing heavily amidst the dark music riddled silence, he was well within the territory.
The territory of Lupine ferocity. A ferocity lead on a string by the shape-shifter's once human mind's closest held values and motives.
Claude's values were a simple one. One that could have him save a life....just as easily as taking many.
For the first time, he stood, towering over everyone in a matter of seconds.
Another string-thin bolt of Lightning hit his chest, fizzling up into smoke as if it were simply a visual effect instead of an attack.
Claude snarled and shook off the blow.
Fear....They could all smell it.
"....That is no WereWolf." The Assassin said. Though he doubted anyone heard him as Claude lunged forward and roared.
The sound shook the grounds and blended with the Banshee's once beautifully dark song to create a new chilling tune that was no longer absent of violence and rage--- and instead drowned in it completely.
Following his roars, the ones that once waited patiently within the marsh joined the fray.
The Heroes that were fast and perceptive enough to avoid the onslaught moved. Others weren't so fortunate.
The cloaked Healer spun around just in time for a giant black snake to latch onto her throat, paralyzing her so she had little more to do than watch as a pack of Wolves and Canid hybrids swarmed her like a legion of land-based piranhas.
As she fell to the stampede, the Assassin next to her attempted to fight off the flock of predatory birds that swiped away at his eyes and open throat. When the Felines came from below, he was already gone.
[+300 EXP]
Movement to the left pulled Claude's vision away from the madness and he found himself looking at the heavily armored Tank. The man blindly charged him with his shield raised in an attempt to fight since he knew running was pointless.
Claude exploded from the grass to face him. With his heightened speed he didn't need to worry about evading-- he just needed to reach him first.
Which he did.
"RAGH!"
FWOO!
With his right hand shrouded in his Aura, he swung at the Tank's face, ripping through his helmet to reach the human flesh beneath.
SHHHLRRRCK!
When his hand returned, doused in blood, the Tanks helmet was a slashed mess that his face mimicked. He could see the white glow of bone beneath.
Thud!
The tank fell to his knees letting out a silent gurgling noise as life faded from his fatigued body.
"YOU BASTARD!!!"
Randall's roars rose above the sounds of his comrades being consumed as he charged Claude.
He turned just in time to see the swordsman coming full speed.
FWSHH!
Before he could think to move, Frosty skidded to a halt in front of him and sent off a pulsing wave of PitWolven intimidation.
The blue wave of power washed over the charging swordsman and stopped him in his tracks. The scents of fear he already let off from the Full Moon and everything that came after, tripled.
He was done.
Claude closed the distance between them in a slow and focused gait while violence remained behind him.
The Banshee's song rose once again after he lunged forward and grabbed ahold of the swordsman's throat to lift him off the ground.
"Y-You dirty bastard...why....w-why are you doing this? WHY!?" The man snapped at him while he punched and kicked wildly.
Claude growled and shook the man angrily as a single tear disappeared behind his shadowy fur.
"Because...you are wrong."
SNAP!
[+150 EXP]
The swordsman fell in a lifeless heap at his feet.
The music quieted slightly for the first time in what felt like years. It took on a more relaxing tone...almost enough to make him drift to sleep.
He didn't like sleep. So, instead of looking down at the man, he raised his snout to feel the icy rainfall.
He didn't feel as bad compared to when he dealt with the Raiders. The thought sent a chill down his spine but he was too tired to care.
When he finally opened his eyes and prepared to release the Banshee, he found himself looking at the sky-- or what was in the sky.
Amidst the sea of fleeing clouds and stars engulfed in darkness, ethereal figures floated semi-translucently while their hair flowed against gravity to follow the movements of their dark tattered robes. Their eyes glowed like the stars from faces that stretched, ripped and aged grotesquely as song erupted from their bottomless mouths.
More Banshee's...
Maybe the one on the floor was never crying out in pain. Maybe he heard it as singing, because it was singing. Singing an omen of death for its tormentors who never saw it coming...
DING!
[The God that's chosen you as it's Disciple is pleased with your actions. You walk it's path more clearly than before....]
[Connection strength increased!]
[Unbound percentage increased!]