Hybrids: An Indoraptor Story ✓

The Beginning Of An End [Pt. 1]

|| 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟖 ||

The island was dying.

Specks of emerald foliage were wilting away in broad daylight. Thunderous blue rivers of woe were running dry. And that salty, oceanic stench -- the one all living creatures here knew of well -- was replaced with a wretched odor -- one of death, and decay.

He could feel it dying, too.

Every tremor. Every rumble. Every broken cry of twisted pain. It filled his mind with anguish and dread, but there was nothing in the world he could do about it.

This beautifully, boundless world of his was ending, long before it had even begun. This was his only home, his only kingdom to rule. And it was a pity -- he never lived the life he truly wanted.

It felt like a recurring curse for his kind.

Slumped between the shattered remains of glass, concrete, and rubble, the male slowly accustomed to this ever-changing world of his, squinting two crimson eyes toward the fuzzy red lights engulfing the heavens above. The wind stung at his face, filling his purple lungs with the rotten taste of ash, and a smoky flavor that couldn't quite be understood. His instincts were threatened by it all, pulsing deep down in his throat with the promise of danger. But he couldn't seem to deter what this threat was. Alas, buried under the weighted plates of a collapsed building and the trembling trees that mocked his helplessness, he didn't think there was any point to figure it out, let alone flee.

The world trapped him here anyways.

No... the raptor did.

The one who carried the blue stripe.

That pest who smelled of man, who desired nothing but the false good will of a trustworthy pack, and the rotten love that still plagues her twisted heart. And those creatures she called friends, they carry the same blood upon his scales, do they not?

Mere morsels begging for mercy, came a dark thought coursing through his skin. The flesh-bags that they are! Hiding and crying like infants, only to scurry out of their rocks whenever they felt it was necessary.

A feral snarl escaped the monster just before another heavy quake rippled through the sacred ground. It scared him slightly as the rubble bounced against the thrumming surface and through his body, reminding him of the doom that was yet to come. Those eyes of his soon scanned the darkness, noticing the frozen remnants of a creature much similar to his own physique. The female was, by no doubt, dead, lying lifelessly by his twisted tail. One claw stretched out of the rubble from her final efforts at life, before the devil himself took her soul away, leaving an empty shell for his sake.

Not food, unfortunately. Just a reminder... a reminder of how cruel the world truly was.

And weak.

Yes... the world had grown weak. Soft. Lost. And he knew that well. He even saw it in the raptor's very eyes the last they met. She was divided and conflicted by truth, twisting the intents of a predator to that of its prey. She let those humans live, those... children.

How dare she defy her purpose to live? How dare she turn against her own kind?

It was no wonder she became the nuisance behind his rage.

The kingdom was broken -- full of liars, greed, and untamed lust. Ruled away by defenseless gods, primitive beings, and innocent little hatchlings who deserved nothing more than to suffer at his wrath.