The Mak Toras Chronicles

Chapter 20 - Respite

The air around him felt heavier than usual. Gasps upon each exhale became more common as he tried to find a medium to breathe normally. The fight against the wild life nearly took all the energy out of what little he had in the first place. He was in no way prepared for what the jungle could throw at him next, besides the obvious notion that another one of those burly beasts may emerge at any moment. A dark presence lingered in the surrounding foliage, shadows of monsters mocked Tanner as he was, sprawled out on the corpse of the beast. There was nothing coming in to relieve him; no breaks, no refreshment, no man nor otherworldly being was here to take away the horrors of survival. Yet here he laid, still alive and kicking. He managed to make it as far as killing his first quarry, but no guarentee it would be the last, he thought. Feeling hell itself might sweep drag him down to his doom, he grew an unease for the ground as if it would betray him. Though, staying on the carcass was not an option he chose to abide by forever. The time came to act again and move. Standing up slowly, Tanner surveyed his fresh kill for what it was. The longer he stared, the more his gut became infatuated with the sight, yearning the obligating need for his hunger to be satisfied. Surely there to be some way to cook it.
"Hope he likes it," he said to himself, thinking about his current mission to the mentors. He wasn't a big fan of skinning a corpse, much less taking a head with him, despite his brother's urges to go on and try. No matter what, that day stuck with him, and all that he had learned. Not that he had much of choice; Chad was a little too enthusiastic of getting him out to experience the wild. Sooner or later, he would have to put those skills to the test, despite how gruesome it sounded. The hunger still panged in his mind and body like an ever-gnawing feeling of his gut eroding away with every passing minute. A necessity like no other. Time was against him in contrast to years prior. He always felt he had the power within his reach to finish homework from pre-combat schools spanning from one end to the other like the mystical deity of the clocks. Even when he energy to spare. Now, all that time spent came back to bite him. He pulled out the knife that was given to him before being shoved out of the craft. It had a curious design to it, as it was curved with several jagged edges on either rim. On top of it, entralled many glyphs from the hilt to the handle. It was almost as if the casting mold of the molten metal was arranged incorrectly yet was even more efficient than a standard straight-edged blade. No design in history, no culture he knew of, made such odd looking blades. Still, it would serve him better than other of its kind he knew back at home. Kneeling down near the lumbering corpse, he gave an eerie glance at his own reflection in the knife. It gazed back at himself with malcontent at his own stature to what he gotten into. The same look of regret shadowing over him whenever a fear of failure was pungent, scorning him forever. Lost in an entirely new environment since landing, everything was up to him.
    Before he could even start carving out a good site to cut, a rustling in the foliage prompted him to jolt to a ready stance like any startled animal shuffled between fight or flight. The decision alone proved to be difficult, a choice within itself; to either flee and abandon an earned trophy and perhaps a meal, or fight to defend what was rightfully his. He thought back on a familiar reference to how much he wanted his own steel blade as a kid to practice on training dummies even though he was too young to even lift it. It wouldn't be until years of begging mother until he received one. Now that he had one, it wasn't exactly he had hoped for in the first place, looking at the knife. Nevertheless, it was something he needed more than anything at this moment. Though, any slight movement around him forced his instincts to commit a hostile takeover inside his head and go through his fleeting thoughts repeatedly in a never-ending loop playing back his deepest fears in the jungle. His sight darted left and right, high and low, searching for a possible source of the noise, but to no avail.
    The whole time, Tanner could feel his teeth clamped together as he often had an unexplainable urge to flash and bear them-he himself was starting to turn into an animal. An awful flash back came as a result, visualizing the alley once more with dread. He remembered the unfathomable amount of blood spilt that night, the unmistakeable actions he took to fight his way out-and the manner he had done so. He didn't even feel truly human anymore, much less a carnivorous faunus. As much as his mind tried to meander away from the horrible memory, it stuck with him like a gut jab that persisted and dug deeper with every attempt to remove the imaginary blade. He could feel his mouth salivating again just thinking about it. There was no answer locked away with conscious that could describe what this sinister desire was. The more he grew to abhor the horrible intention of killing inside, the more the other side of him took pleasure in it, feeling alive and ready to lash out and bite into the flesh of the enemy; to let out the inner beast again into the fray.
    He fought against instinct with all he could muster. Temptation worked in opposition as he looked around himself for any possible danger, all the while at war inside his own thoughts. Everything emotion within was out to torture and tantalize him to no end. As if physical threats were not enough. He could not wait any longer. Starvation was also an issue, something he took obligation above all else. Getting a fire up and ready would take too long and possibly draw the native to the kindling beaco of hope and evil. The urge of primal instinct then flooded his mind; a wicked force took and pinned him down, seeking to beguile the mannered portion of himself. Feelings or not, it conquered his sanity. It drew him closer to the corpse, regardless of what his awareness cared. Thereon, his lust for hunger soared-the very essence of what was really him faded away. Now it was something completely different control. Emerging from within himself, the beast, the manifestation that took place from the alley took hold, and forced him to cleave a bite out of the body. Blood poured into his mouth, quenching the saliva that begged to be satisfied. Flesh alone, his taste and lust did not feel any disgust or resentment. He only dove into it more. Bite after bite, there was no stopping what was becoming of him-a monster. Endulging the flavor he fought so long to ignore, filled his would-be predatory needs. All in all, he knew eating raw meat was anything but safe, yet he craved for such a feeling. No, this was not him. And yet it pressured him even more. His worries meant nothing to the insatiable carnivore within that craved desire over anything.
    His hands were a mess, coated in dark red paste that was blood. He could no longer see himself inside. That sense of right was gone; the so called innocence-erased. Yet his sense of awareness did not give in. Jerking his head around wildly, he noticed something within the brush. Without hesitation, he quickly scurried up the tree with the help of his knife. Off the ground and into the branches overlooking the scene. Surely there had to be something nearby to invoke this much activity. A satisfied hunger slowly eased back into lust for more, prompting him not to wait too long. He had thought one bite would have been more than enough, but time after time, the insatiable appetite demands a capable soul willing to house it. How he managed to fit such a criteria and demand was beyond him.
The brush emerged to reveal a canine-like creature darted to the corpse. It looked like anything but the benevolent dogs and puppies of Remnant. At first glance, it was covered in long horns and tusks at the front half of its body. Like coming straight out of a horror film. Yet amidst all the terror it appeared to be, it wasn't alone. More of the same kind accompanied its reprise around the corpse. Their abnormal faces grew adamant of taking the carcass all for themselves, seeing as a free kill left untreated, letting their drooling, gaping mouths and teeth do all the talking. Tanner suddenly felt a sharp pain with him. Watching his earned reward being taken, the inner monster lashed out within the walls of his gut. It rose again after a short declination back to the realm of sanity, not willing to let him off the hook that easily. His primal instinct came back like an unbeatened virus rebounding for round two of a host's defense. There was no point of holding it back now. This craving, this desire, had latched on tight and infested him with malevolence. Temptation got the better of him as he leaped from the tree, knife drawn, right down onto one of the hounds. He let the gravity of the planet take him as its invisible hands pulled him closer to a hug with the earth. The knife plunged right into the neck of the canine as it gargled and hissed its final moments. The rush of adrenaline surged through him as he shot a glance to the next hound, which pounced from a distance and pinned him down with clawed feet. Grabbing on to one of the tusks, he kept the beast's thrashing head at bay, maneuvering the blade right into its head. The whole time, he too could hear himself snarling like they were as his teeth made headway into the air. The beast slumped to his side as he got up. Two remained, staying their paws in the ready to pounce at him as well. He stared them both down as if his sight alone could kill. They were not so easily apalled by looks from a fresh set of eyes. Creeping closer, they began to walk over the corpse of the long slain beast. Feeling his territory to be infringed upon, he let out a threatening growl to push them away, only to leap at one soon after to further his prowess and current status over the kill. The creature flailed beneath him as he made several messy stabs aiming for the neck, bein slashed himself by an obstructing tusk. Blood spurted from each stab, with each flail dying down in strength. Completely tunnel visioned on his current prey, a set of jaws sunk down into his right shoulder. He screamed as loud as he could in pain, yet this scream did not sound like his own. It sounded as if he himself was native of this world. No typical human yell compared to the physical anguish and sound of a monster. Switching hands, he made every attempt to thrust the knife right into the gnarly face of the canine. The look of determination of the hound's eye was not willing to let Tanner go free. That ferocity became dismay as the blade plunged into the head of the beast-right between the eyes. He fell forward, falling upon the blood-soaked earth, clutching his shoulder and clenching his teeth with anger. Behind him, the canine squirmed violently at the jam into its head, shedding the last of its life off to the metal that was now apart of it. The hound collapsed in short order with an expressionless face of savagry. Hobbling his way over, he looked down upon the last hound, with his blood drenched arm stole a piece of his attention. The more he wanted to scream at the pain, the more he held it back out of spite. At this point, pain was his norm of physical and emotional embodiment. He dropped to his knees once again. He felt like he could not endure this any longer. From ground up, he regret everything to the situation leading up to now. Part of him wanted to sleek away in darkness to hide for eternity. Still, the other half, the one in control, begged to differ.
    A stinging, sloppy bite wound was not permanent as he felt the pain slip away. He looked over his shoulder confused as he watched the finishing touches of his own flesh repairing itself back together. It was no different in the manner of his chest slash from earlier. Though the blood stained onto him, he soon grasped a hint of relief and shock. Trembling no less, he gazed endlessly into his red palm as if it were looking back at him with eyes of its own. His contemptment combined with disgust continued to perpetuate him in a bottomless pit of questions and uncertainties. Lust, hunger, malicious intent; an innate desire of kill was nothing more than the most of his inside goals. All he ever wanted as of right now-to kill another prey item. The mind that was once pure and innocent had now been soaked in blood amongst its walls. Smells of iron filled the air around him from the pourage of wounds and endless rivers of blood at his feet.
    "W-...what am I?"