White Orc

Of the eight guards stationed on the second floor of Emilio's house, Cain killed them all. 

He didn't know if he was on camera or if the guards communicated with one another, but what he did know was that the guards of the second floor miraculously made their way towards him. 

Every. Single. Time. 

And every time they appeared, they lost their heads. 

And blood would paint the ceilings red, matching the carpet below. 

Thereafter, Cain made it to the end of Emilio's hallways – the end of the labyrinth. 

A single door stood before him. Oak with a gold handle. 

Through |Spirit Eyes| Cain saw two souls beyond. 

One – that which belonged to a human. 

And two – that which was unique. That which contained depth out of the ordinary. 

Still in his |Reaper's Cloak|, however, Cain – or Death – jiggled the doorknob. 

The door was unlocked. 


Death opened and entered. 

There, two people appeared before him. 

One of which he recognized. 

One of which he did not. 

The moment Death entered the tight-knit space the temperature dropped. 

In the office laid before him, a man sat behind a grand desk. Beside this man, a woman rested on a velvet couch. 

When the woman looked up from her magazine, however, when her eyes laid upon Death's visage — the woman panicked. 

"AHHHH!!!!" 

A sonic boom exploded from the woman's lips. 

*BOOM* 

Death flew back! He crashed into the hallway walls and cracked the building's foundation. 

The door shattered. The desk, books, tables, and chairs in the office slammed against the walls too. The roof cracked and buckled. 

Dust filled the air. 

The sound of coughing erupted. 

Through the dust, Death's eyes narrowed on the mundane man. His body was squished against the wall. His muscles were caved in and his skull was already split. 

Regurgitating his lungs – the man behind the desk desperately fought for oxygen that he could no longer obtain. 

Death pried himself from the stone-angel he created in the wall. He hovered above the floor. 

His cloth tentacles shot forward and stormed the collapsed office. 

"AHHH!!!" But more sonic screams pushed his appendages back. 

Death once again slammed into the wall. Pressure exerted unto his being. The weight of an elephant crushed his chest and held him at bay – but his candle-lit eyes still flickered. 

"Now why don't'cha stay put?" The woman emerged from the rubble twirling her hair with her fingers. 

Death ignored her words. 

A black streak of lightning whipped across the room. It sliced through the door frame of Emilio's office and severed the remains of the wall. 

"Ahh!" A quiet shriek, however, crashed against the cloth and pushed it into the ground. 

The woman strutted forward and looked into Death's gaze. 

"Do ya' talk?" She asked. 

In response to her question, however, there was nothing. Instead, she narrowed on the flickering flames lit within the phantom's hood. 

"Are ya' some sorta ghost?" She questioned again. 

"Did ya' come from the jungle?" 

"Or I mean, the Gate?" She continued. 

…

Death remained frozen. 

'Skyler?!' Cain's thoughts exploded. 

'What is she doing here?!' 

Death's flames slightly moved underneath his hood. They peered past Skyler, at the dying man behind her. 

'And who is that?!' Cain thought to himself. 

The man struggling to hold onto dear life was not Emilio Rose. He was not the head of the Rose family. 

Then, sirens blared in the distance and a loud air current assaulted the winds. 

A helicopter arrived. 

Spotlight illuminated the Roman designed mansion. The spotlight narrowed on Emilio's office which was now nothing more than rubble and dust. 

Death looked into Skyler's eyes. 

"Your presence –" The soulless voice of Death himself resounded, "unaccounted for." 

Like lightning, a streak of cloth burst out from within the tattered cloak. 

Skyler opened her mouth to scream. 

"..." 

But a sudden pressure exerted unto her. 

Gravity seemingly multiplied. 

A shiver ran down her neck. She was cold. Unbearably so. 

The light from the spotlight above dimmed. 

All light, in fact, began to wane. 

While staring Death in the face, the world around grew bleak. 

Every instinct in Skyler's body was screaming at her in a blazing fury. She wanted to look away. 

She wanted to run. To flee. To escape! 

But she couldn't. She felt nailed down. She felt stuck. 

'It's him!' Skyler realized. 

It's Death – or rather – his aura, his pressure, his gaze. 

It suddenly terrified her. 

Then, the streak of cloth whipped across her mouth and sealed her lips. The cloth wrapped around her body until only her eyes remained visible. 

Her arms, legs, and body were consumed by the tattered rags. 

"FREEZE!!" From nowhere, police officers appeared. 

"DON'T MOVE!!" 

Even from the helicopter, a man hung from the sliding door and flipped open his microphone. 

"This is the Brazilian Armed Forces –" The man in the helicopter began, "release the girl and surrender peacefully!" 

Death's flickering eyes peered at the helicopter. 

The moment he did so, the man speaking felt shivers. 

It was like gazing into the abyss. 

He resisted, however, and tightened his boot-straps. 

"Surrender at once and we will not open fire!" 

Time stretched. 

Cain looked at the helicopter above him. 

He looked at the armed militants in the hallways. Their boots muddied the carpet. 

He looked towards the cracked walls and the shattered ceiling. 

'...what?' Was all Cain could think. 

'...what happened?' 

He spent over a week tirelessly monitoring Violet Night. He studied Maria's route and patterns. He familiarized himself with the city. 

On the one day of the month Maria left town, Cain was ready. He was prepared. 

He followed her to another farm in the distant brush surrounding the city. 

He expertly picked her car lock and snuck inside. 

Then, through her, he was delivered straight to Emilio's door! A perfect plan! 

He thought it out! He constructed it! 

Cain looked back at Skyler. Her gaze, although shaky, remained certain. 

He looked at the faces around. They were stern and focused, but underneath the bravado, Cain could read their uneasiness. 

Their hands were clammy and their skin was greasy. The men around the monster were nervous. 

'What is that?' They thought. 

'A ghost?' 

'A ghoul?' 

'Will bullets even pierce it?' 

The Brazilian Armed Forces were putting on an act. They had been informed, naturally, of the Gate and its occupants – but this reaper? 

The reaper meant death. That was all the armed men could see. 

Death's gaze returned to the helicopter. 

Then, a million voices spoke at once. 

"I refuse." 

The words lingered in the air. 

 The Commander's arm dropped. 

*BANG* 

A loud noise pierced the air. 

A high-caliber bullet split the clouds. 

It struck between Death's candle-lit eyes. 

*THUD* 

And stopped. The bullet collapsed in on itself as if it hit a steel wall. Compacted, it peeled off the dark matter within Death's hood and plummeted to the ground. 

The wind blew, rustling the once settled dust, but no other movement occurred. Frozen in frame, the scene was set and the picture had been taken. 

"FIRE GOD DAMNIT!!!!" The Commander's voice blared through his microphone. 

Simultaneously, all the men gathered around pulled their triggers and lights ignited the night sky. 

The bullets rained down. From the helicopter, the men in the hallways, the men stationed on the mountain above – bullets flew. 

Death's eyes flickered white. 

"|Blackout|" 

The world vanished.  

***

"MMMMMM!!!!!!!" 

Muffled screams engulfed the forest. 

"SSSS!!!!" 

Then a blaring sizzle followed. 

"MAAAAA!!!" 

And the screams intensified. 

A heavy hand grabbed the back of Miles's head and plunged it in water. 

At first, Miles didn't move, but soon, erratic spasms devoured his person. 

Miles shook his head. He screamed underwater. 

Water charged his nostrils. 

His head was ripped from the water. 

In front of him, another Orc was ready. 

An arrowhead burned bright. Its silver sheen glowed orange. 

The Orc pushed it against Miles's forehead. 

A loud sizzle drowned his senses while steam filled the air. 

Pain engulfed him so much so that Miles forgot to take his needed breath. 

Before he could, the other Orc slammed his head back into the water. 

Miles convulsed. He shook. He fought. He even puked. 

At the end of it all though, he quit squirming. His twitches reduced until he was perfectly still. 

It almost seemed peaceful. If only he hadn't puked. 

The Orc pulled him from the water and threw him onto the ground. 

The green beast stood up and tapped the bottom of Miles's chest with its foot. 

The Orc nodded to himself. Then, 

*SLAM* 

The Orc kicked Miles in the center of the chest! 

His body flew and he skipped across the grass before tumbling to a stop. 

Thanks to the kick, however, Miles was awake again. 

He was retching on the forest floor. Lime green bile coated the dandelions. 

Tears streaked down his ashy face and his snot clung to the grass. 

The Orc who kicked him pounded his foot twice on the grass. He clapped his hands and shouted at another Orc. 

The Orc with white markings approached Miles. He spread his palm above the kneeled man and recited something in their brutish language. 

Green particles succinctly flowed from the Orc's fingertips onto Miles's figure. 

Miles's breathing slowed and he quit coughing. 

"You should just tell them." The Orc with white markings said. 

Miles shook his head. 

"n-O…" Miles choked, "I ca–" 

"They won't kill you." The Orc with white markings, the white Orc, shook his head. 

"Not until the last day, at least." 

"Hm?" Miles barely had the energy to speak. 

"My people are Trailblazers." The white Orc said. 

But Miles merely looked at the scrawnier Orc in confusion. 

At this, the white Orc rolled its black eyes. 

"We attack first. Our muscle mass and instincts give us an advantage in unprompted engagements. Just based on your size and speed, if we assume you possess the average capabilities of your species – then its clear Orcs are superior. Although your claws are sharp, they aren't long enough to pierce our internal organs. As long as we protect our heads, the Orcs can't lose." The white Orc stood up. 

"That's why we're Trailblazers." He said, "This will be over before the third cycle." 

The white Orc left and Miles felt his head tighten. 

His skull was grabbed once more and he was dragged further into the forest.  

///LostNoteFound///

Shoutout moofin and DevilGod_of_Chaos! Thanks for the stones my stoners! ;D