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This is the first page to a book I hope I can stick with till the end.
If this is a story that you would enjoy, tell me because otherwise it will probably go nowhere and this short burst of motivation will probably slip through my fingers. xx
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"Wrath"
I am the sixth and I am a vindictive beast. If revenge is what I seek, then it is revenge that I will claim. This claim will be a bloody one. Itchy with anticipation, I tug on the edge of my black tunic. It hung loosely across my torso, and I could feel the knock of my blade against my hip as I ran. Forged from the highest quality metal in Drannia, it had been passed down to me by the only father I ever knew. I think back on when I would dress up in knights armor and beg my father to allow me to participate in blade-mastering. That was before I became what I am now. Before my father was ripped from me. I have grown up, and now I seek the head of the beats that murdered my father in cold blood.
I quickly scale the outer wall of my city. I drop to the ground on two feet and make my way on the dirt path heading south. Beasts unlike myself have been unleashed upon Drannia a little over a century ago. Foul monsters crawled down from their mountain homes, and wrecked havoc where they went. A stench so repulsive permeated the air, someone or rather something, was watching me. I can feel eyes on me. Turning my head to the left, I see nothing. Ignoring the long strands of hair in my eyes, I march on brushing off my thoughts as simply paranoia. Chasing shadows as father would have said. The sun was dipping beneath the treetops, leaving me to tightly clasp my hands together. The temperature was dropping rapidly, and cold shivers ran down my spine. I would have to break camp soon.
Spotting a suitable place under an overhanging rock, I set down my pack and flopped down on the dirt. I hastily gather nearby brush and light a fire, eating part of the bread I had brought with me. I would save the meat I had stolen from the kitchen for the morning. I had a little over seven miles to trek to reach the nearest village and I would need my strength. Soon, I would have to sacrifice money that I had planned to use for renting a warm bed to haggle for a horse. Traveling on foot leaves less room to be followed by any party searching for me, but a horse is much faster traveling. I can't quite stomach the idea of sore, blistered feet either.
Sleep came quickly, but also left as quickly as it came. I shouldn’t have dismissed my instinct as paranoia. Dark eyes glimmered underneath the high moon, deep-set under a muzzle with grotesque, pendulous lips. Its canine head was riddled with folds drenched in frothy drool, its teeth showing in its sneer. Its acrid breath fanned my face as we stare each other down, neither of us knowing who was to move first. I slowly move my hand, diligently unsheathing my sword and launch myself on top of the hound. It did not cry out, its mind only focused on its blood lust. Strong jaws clamp down on my side, and I cry out in utter pain. I bury my pain and roll to the side effectively avoiding being ripped to pieces. I feel blood running down my side, yet I swing the blade down onto hind quarters with ease. Nothing can control my own blood lust. Compulsive need to spill its black blood coils around me, urging me to do what I know comes next. I slip my sword in between its ribs and end it. Not wanting to linger for fear of somebody seeing the mess I had made, I take off without looking back. Thick blood covers my body and reaching the nearest inn seems a task even I struggle in accomplishing. I’m not invincible after all.
Memories of the near past haunt my delirious mind, I don't want to think of my father or the family I had just left behind. My mother was probably weeping with despair - her only daughter having run off on a mad trek to hunt down Daemon. A hopeless adventure bound to end badly as she would mercilessly drill into my mind. One down, just a thousand more to slay. My eyes, heavy as rocks, shut close and my body followed willingly.
