Post by Alexander V. Terada on Nov 14, 2016 5:58:54 GMT -5
The muscles on his arms tense as he tightens the grip on the head of the man standing face to face to him, directly in front of him. A blade had just sunk into his ribs, the newest and latest of a multitude of injuries across Alexander's body. He grunts, but endures the pain. With a final push and a twist, he snaps the man's neck around and, as he falls to the ground, so does Alexander, both falling to their right. Landing hands first, face down on the ground, the blood escaping from Alexander's mouth, sticky and viscous, like the yolk of an egg, mixed with saliva, begins to pool beneath his face. His whole body shook. On some of the fingers of his hands, which began to clench up as he forced himself back onto his feet, the flesh was so torn away that bone had become visible. Getting all the way up onto all fours, Alexander reached down and extracted the small blade still buried in his side. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, his slow and sluggish body moved with a new speed and acceleration. Another enemy, one that he'd already struck down, but had apparently survived and overcome their injuries enough to try and come after him again, had been crawling towards him. over the piles of corpses that already surrounded them. With a snake's quickness, Alexander snapped around and buried the blade that'd just been in his own body into the eye of the enemy, who fell still to the ground.
He could hear the sound of more approaching, they would be healthy, ready for the fight, but he'd strike them down none the less. Blood seeped from multiple wounds across his body, staining the tattered remnants of his samurai garb. Rising to his feet, he'd trail his hand across the ground, searching for something that he'd finally find beneath a body. With a heaving tug and a pull, he rolled the corpse away and rose to a stand with his sword now reclaimed and in his hands. The enemy came at him once more and, despite the torn and broken state of his body, he fought. Evading the first strike, the blade in his hand would swing around, almost by itself, in a harsh retribution, slicing clean through the body of another. More enemies came at him and he'd deal with each of them in turn.
One would get lucky as he turned, having just dispatched another. Their blade would sink in, running Alexander through, fortunately missing his spine. Hand whipping out, he'd grab a tuft of their hair and, pulling them in, slam his forehead straight into their face. Then, as they recoiled, he'd finish the job with a powerful slash from his own blade. Of course the enemies swarming around him now wouldn't give him any quarter or spare moment. Another was already coming at him. As they raised their blade, he turned his back to them and threw himself backwards. Left hand gripping the hilt of the blade that'd just stabbed him, adjusting the aim, he uses the very sword that was still running through his body to impale the heart of his latest attacker. Pulling the blade out of himself and his opponent, he'd not slow at all as he rid himself of that weapon by plunging it into the face of yet another opponent, all the while using his own sword to deflect a spear head from another enemy.
So the fight would continue until Alexander was, unbelievably, the only one left standing. The very last, he'd not see their face until they were on the ground and he was sinking the blade in. He'd see into their eyes and see the features of someone relatively young. Even after all he'd been through, there was a moment of shock, guilt and sadness flickering across Alexander's face. He was just a boy. However, he'd quickly tighten his features back into a solemn scowl. Staggering, Alexander remained on his feet, but struggled to walk. It was quiet. The fight was finally over, except... There was the sound of movement coming from one of the mounds of corpses. Alexander would turn and see, emerging from the bodies, a long, naked arm, pale in colour, the skin as pale as porcelain. It came down, bending at the elbow, and it would seem, pushing the weight of all the corpses on top of it, that something was emerging...
Alexander would awaken in his quarters, the dream, or perhaps more appropriately named nightmare, ending abruptly. He was fairly certain he'd never worn samurai garb, nor had he been in a fight of that nature against so many human shaped opponents, though a fight against Hollows taken to that degree of length and desperation he had experienced more than once. For that particular dream, he could blame some of the books he'd been reading lately. There was a time when these nightmares had bothered him. He'd awake in a terrified cold sweat, his early years and post traumatic stress making his sleep a tortuous affair. Now a days though, he'd grown accustomed to these kind of images in his dreams.
He walked over to the water basin and gave his face a quick rinse. Exposing his wet face to the cold morning air outside his window, he'd wake himself up. Returning to his washing bowl, he'd take his cut throat razor and, mixing up a froth for himself in a small pestle and mortar he had to one side, gave himself a quick shave, his hands surprisingly steady given the dream that he just had. Cleaning off the last of the foam, and drying off his face with his towel, he'd see to any drops of moisture or cream that'd fallen on any part of his naked body during his morning shave. Then he'd dress and head out for work.
It was on his way to his office that he remembered, today was the day, and his heart sank. A part of him was dreading having to do this, but he'd made up his mind and steeled his resolve. Still, it wasn't going to be easy. He couldn't back out now, not after going through such lengths to make all the preparations required. At the very least, he'd already sent out the letter telling Tachi to meet him in his office, today. So, some time after his usual work hours began, after he'd had the chance to go through and sort out some of the more important paperwork, Alexander settled down in his office and waited...
Word Count: 1102
GP: 22
He could hear the sound of more approaching, they would be healthy, ready for the fight, but he'd strike them down none the less. Blood seeped from multiple wounds across his body, staining the tattered remnants of his samurai garb. Rising to his feet, he'd trail his hand across the ground, searching for something that he'd finally find beneath a body. With a heaving tug and a pull, he rolled the corpse away and rose to a stand with his sword now reclaimed and in his hands. The enemy came at him once more and, despite the torn and broken state of his body, he fought. Evading the first strike, the blade in his hand would swing around, almost by itself, in a harsh retribution, slicing clean through the body of another. More enemies came at him and he'd deal with each of them in turn.
One would get lucky as he turned, having just dispatched another. Their blade would sink in, running Alexander through, fortunately missing his spine. Hand whipping out, he'd grab a tuft of their hair and, pulling them in, slam his forehead straight into their face. Then, as they recoiled, he'd finish the job with a powerful slash from his own blade. Of course the enemies swarming around him now wouldn't give him any quarter or spare moment. Another was already coming at him. As they raised their blade, he turned his back to them and threw himself backwards. Left hand gripping the hilt of the blade that'd just stabbed him, adjusting the aim, he uses the very sword that was still running through his body to impale the heart of his latest attacker. Pulling the blade out of himself and his opponent, he'd not slow at all as he rid himself of that weapon by plunging it into the face of yet another opponent, all the while using his own sword to deflect a spear head from another enemy.
So the fight would continue until Alexander was, unbelievably, the only one left standing. The very last, he'd not see their face until they were on the ground and he was sinking the blade in. He'd see into their eyes and see the features of someone relatively young. Even after all he'd been through, there was a moment of shock, guilt and sadness flickering across Alexander's face. He was just a boy. However, he'd quickly tighten his features back into a solemn scowl. Staggering, Alexander remained on his feet, but struggled to walk. It was quiet. The fight was finally over, except... There was the sound of movement coming from one of the mounds of corpses. Alexander would turn and see, emerging from the bodies, a long, naked arm, pale in colour, the skin as pale as porcelain. It came down, bending at the elbow, and it would seem, pushing the weight of all the corpses on top of it, that something was emerging...
Alexander would awaken in his quarters, the dream, or perhaps more appropriately named nightmare, ending abruptly. He was fairly certain he'd never worn samurai garb, nor had he been in a fight of that nature against so many human shaped opponents, though a fight against Hollows taken to that degree of length and desperation he had experienced more than once. For that particular dream, he could blame some of the books he'd been reading lately. There was a time when these nightmares had bothered him. He'd awake in a terrified cold sweat, his early years and post traumatic stress making his sleep a tortuous affair. Now a days though, he'd grown accustomed to these kind of images in his dreams.
He walked over to the water basin and gave his face a quick rinse. Exposing his wet face to the cold morning air outside his window, he'd wake himself up. Returning to his washing bowl, he'd take his cut throat razor and, mixing up a froth for himself in a small pestle and mortar he had to one side, gave himself a quick shave, his hands surprisingly steady given the dream that he just had. Cleaning off the last of the foam, and drying off his face with his towel, he'd see to any drops of moisture or cream that'd fallen on any part of his naked body during his morning shave. Then he'd dress and head out for work.
It was on his way to his office that he remembered, today was the day, and his heart sank. A part of him was dreading having to do this, but he'd made up his mind and steeled his resolve. Still, it wasn't going to be easy. He couldn't back out now, not after going through such lengths to make all the preparations required. At the very least, he'd already sent out the letter telling Tachi to meet him in his office, today. So, some time after his usual work hours began, after he'd had the chance to go through and sort out some of the more important paperwork, Alexander settled down in his office and waited...
Word Count: 1102
GP: 22
