BLOOD

BLOOD,

its crimson beauty shimmering and reflecting across the battlefield. Even concentrating on anything… staying alive, or your insatiable thirst for combat. In the middle of that battlefield, there was one colour that shone brighter than gold or steel. It was deeper than the inky dark of the night, was more brilliant than the streaks of light crashing across with the stars. As the drops spilled out, fluttering from the jaws of the dragon, there was something different in Mahon's eyes. His thoughts became cloudy and his head began to fill with the vibrant colour of blood. His entire soul longing for the freshly spilled liquid, its scarlet dripping beauty swelling his tongue. Drool spilling from his mouth as he gazed down at the corpse. Crouching down before the shocked, limp man. His hands wrapped around the neck, its skin touching his teeth, the white pressing gently and then hard. Cutting into the red feast he was craving.

And he ripped.

The pain flashing across his face as the senses returned, his gut filled with pleasure and content ness. It was repulsive, his mouth stained with red, his body covered in the grotesque abomination of what he had done. His eyes glared yellow, burning out of their sockets as he saw the piles and floods of red. Where anyone should have thrown up, or turned away, Mahon only stared into his sin, staring at it and one thought covered his mind, filling his body with a deep urge.

I WANT MORE.

He staggered to his feet, pulling the sword up with him, pounding his chest as he had seen the other soldiers do and charged forward, his nimble body springing through the masses of muscle and flesh, his sword like a shine flashing across the battlefield, l dodging under and around then hulking bodies. His sword thrusting and slashing through their bodies, spraying blood across hiss path, the footsteps drowned by noise and the footprints. But through this bloodthirsty speed, his blinded charge.

He was surrounded. Though cornered, his body reacted instantly, pulling his sword to his face, his body slowly circling around. Rotating his eyes to show the troop of men.

His lips curled into a smile as he saw, the twitching muscles, their shoulders moving, their legs pressing into the ground.

At last the first one leaped towards him, a long spear thrust towards Mahon, his hand reaching up to slap the pole arm then followed by a deep cut his steel splintering the wood then Mahon darted to the right his sword and body extending as one stabbing through the chest of a watcher.

Pulling his knife, he jumped into the air, bringing it down onto the next man's face, its curved blade slicing through his neck, drenching the stunned onlookers with more blood. Licking his hands of the vermilion spray, he stared the disarmed man in the eye, his pupils trembling, the small white circle from the moon darting across his colourful eyes. Then pulling his arm across he slashed with the sword, the shallow cut splashing through his armour, and following with a small cut through his stomach the man fell to the floor.

Just as Mahon began rotating his body, his feet stepping over the corpses before him,

Everything went black.