Lethal Skin

[Wanted Assailant]

Lethal Skin

 

 

Last Beginnings are Told First:

“Aneantir”

 

 

I spat the thick, torn flesh once clutched by my sharp, menacing fangs, onto the hot and dry grassy plain. My bony structured sets of teeth began to wash itself from the blood that trailed off from the burning piece of tissue tossed aside. I gratingly curved my teeth in a sign of success; growling under my breath immensely. Feeling the tremendous surge of veins circulating through my anatomy, it told the reasoning anger; the horrible pulse in my eyes throbbed violently.

 

My body hovered over the lifeless doll of a violent enemy. I staggered away from laying on top of the man I had just killed, and dragged myself up. The bruises and wounds scattered across my bulk build up and bare chest, stung with every little movement I made. I hadn’t released these emotions, and instead I built my uncontrollable anger through my steaming expression, and the high chug of wheeze I had emitted. My teeth gritted together, and rivers of sweat profusely started to appear throughout the outer surface of my face; the salty moisture dribbled slowly, and was absorbed in the hairs of my large, scruffy beard.

 

I straddled my deadbeat eyes down to the lifeless man who was laid out on the shortened grass, a large spear impaled through the center section of his torso. Blood had already grew, and it had lashed out against my sowed clothes of skin-fabric. My humongous build stilled fear, even in the hearts of the most dangerous and courageous. My woven, scathed, dark chocolate pants and boots began to peel and become worn-out with every bulging twitch my large muscled legs made.

 

I fairly gazed at the torn face of the man, grotesquely revealing the hot and bloody meat, with only the bones of the skull hidden under it. A warrior’s death was always acceptable, and was never a shock to another being who could possess the power to murder, or to be murdered himself. This man was just another; another sorcerer.

 

Enormously sized and hand-crafted, my reliable, warrior’s sword sat in the sheath strapped to my back. What completed my image; the cape made of pure, gray wolf skin that latched onto my neck and waved freely in the wind. The fresh blood still anew from the wolf I had recently killed and eaten from the day before, slithered off the coat and fur of the wolf skin, just as rain would pelt off a sturdy object or material. The wolf’s head slouched on top of my own scalp, the fangs of the wild animal cupped around the borders of my skull.

 

I gazed upon the bright, orange skyline that settled in beautifully. The Mongrels would soon clash against the rod-wielding, magically powered Ghuls that dared to maul in and overtake on Beast territory. I had to direct my people into a great and long battle, finally ending this quarrel, and ending the evil of the Ghuls once and for all. Me and my people have transported our trust into our god, Welrod, to help us fight through the terrible struggle.

 

The Great War will end with many outcomes and losses, but even I knew that neither us Mongrels or the Ghuls were morally right, and we were both filled with the stench of evil. Both sides have brutally killed many, and both have led a terrible and unintelligent past that would surely draw our future. But I thought, I might as well die with my belief for Welrod and my people cheering on, and ignore the nonsense in an idiotic and wasteful battle that would end the both of us.

 

Many have been scattered on the battle, broken, bruised, and dead. Women and the young raped, hung, emotionlessly murdered. But even with these events, everyone have shown no remorse and couldn’t care less if the next one dead was a fellow comrade or a loved family. Heads would be torn off, and bodies decapitated. We wouldn’t even blink at the sight of the corpses of our mothers, and only grunt a few words at the funeral.

 

Blood everywhere; scarring it was. The devilish rulers of the world, attempting to grasp the crystals wrongfully in their hands for total domination and immortality. I admit, that I too wanted this, and I was a devilish ruler only wanting the goods for me, thinking Zeus, the ruler of the Ghuls were all terribly wrong, just because of their beliefs and ways weren’t exactly as ours.

 

I knew this time will come with the tragic death of my Queen and the death of Zeus’s son, the crystals destroyed and scattered, and our world crumbling down to mere bits. This war will end it, the carnage and the unmeaning destruction. This war will solve life’s problem, by eradicating life itself. The possibility and chances of one person surviving from this war is very slim. We will die, in grace.

 

 

I unsheathed the large, dented and battle-damaged caliber sword, and grasped the handle firmly to my side. Straightening the hand that held the wide sword, I pointed it towards the sky and the battlefield that awaited death. My eyes grew, and my mouth stretched in anger and bravery.

 

“ It is time!” I barked, the drops of spit ran away from my lips, while some of the salivary fluids dribbled off my chin. The veins that flowed throughout my physical structure began to throb with pain and eagerness, my eyes set on the on-flow of charging sorcerers. I could feel the ground breaking through as the rumblings from it grew louder and louder. My army right besides me, we were ready for the Great War. The night would fall, and perhaps only one king would come out alive at early dawn. I yelled sharply, my voice broke midway, and charged ahead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You can’t exactly become king of the jungle, if there aren’t any animals.

[Ronmar The Only]

Interesting, seems like you devoted a bit of time to various parts of the story. Do you have anything else from this world to tell?

[Wanted Assailant]

Not really as much. If there was ever going to be a spin-off, then this will be considered the epilouge.

 

I could expand. I do have the whole premise, actually.

[Eminence]

I noticed a few things with the introduction immediately. It's something I've preached time and time again - that the introduction is the most important part of a story (especially short ones) - and so making use of every word, sentence and piece of punctuation is key to making the reader get straight into the thick of the plot. Poor structure, odd word choices and the likes can really detract from the piece, where you don't have time to make up for a slow start.

 

 

I spat the thick, torn flesh once clutched by my sharp, menacing fangs, onto the hot and dry grassy plain.

 

This passage seemed a little verbose for my tastes - the repetition of double adjectives ("thick, torn"; "sharp, menacing"; "hot and dry") really disrupted the flow and made the sentence go on a little longer than necessary. Not that a long sentence is a bad thing - it's just that with the structure of this one, it's not the best start to a short piece.

 

 

My bony structured sets of teeth began to wash itself from the blood that trailed off from the burning piece of tissue tossed aside.

 

There is no 'it', as the 'bony structured sets of teeth' are plural. Therefore, this word should be replaced with 'themselves'.

 

 

I gratingly curved my teeth in a sign of success; growling under my breath immensely. Feeling the tremendous surge of veins circulating through my anatomy, it told the reasoning anger; the horrible pulse in my eyes throbbed violently.

 

To start with, the 'veins' description. This doesn't quite make sense, as one wouldn't feel the surge of the veins themselves - they'd feel the blood rushing through said veins, pulsing throughout their body.

 

I felt 'reasoning' was a strange word choice here; I don't see how that's an effective adjective in the description of 'anger'.

 

 

Me and my people have transported our trust into our god, Welrod, to help us fight through the terrible struggle.

 

The Great War will end with many outcomes and losses,

 

Some tense switching - this carries on at times throughout the rest of the piece.

 

 

I pointed it towards the sky and the battlefield that awaited death

 

It's not the battlefield that awaits death - death awaits on the battlefield.

 

After a start with little flow, it picked up more, and settled into a decent piece. However, I can't help but feel the actual plot was only touched on, almost for effect. It all seems trivial, with no real attachment to the character or his motives; what's more, there's this random mention of 'the crystals', which seems mentioned more than anything to just ensure that the piece is viewed as 'fantasy'.

 

Aside from this and the tense errors, there were a few more odd sentence structures with rogue commas, but all in all, the piece managed to get going in the end.

[Wanted Assailant]

I should of given a better understanding to the crytals now that I've pondered.

 

 

It's not the battlefield that awaits death - death awaits on the battlefield.

 

Metaphor.

 

I think I hammered too much on this, and I didn't take all the true and good effort into. I was even delighted to have it finally done, and just pushed it aside. I'm gonna look out carefully while I write in the future. My style has always been absurd, and not formally correct. Thanks.

[Eminence]

It's not the battlefield that awaits death - death awaits on the battlefield.

 

Metaphor.

Hmmm, I never really interpreted it in that way. Maybe I'm slow.