Bloodlust, Written by a Fan Fiction Newbie Options

[The Metal Mallet]

Greetings, I have been a fairly longtime reader of the Fan Fiction section of these forums (back when it was still W4O) as a guest. I thought it was about time to get out of "veil" per se. Hopefully, this Fan Fic will be enjoyable for you guys as your fics have been enjoyed by me. Criticism is always appreciated. Anyways, here it is!


- Bloodlust -

The knife slashed through the man’s throat with ease, causing an eruption of blood to pour out the gaping tare. A shocked gurgle escapes the man’s lips as he begins to pale. The only warmth he feels is the body that is holding him up and the bodily fluid running down his chest. His eyes finally cloud over, still locked in their state of shock. The body is then silently lowered to the ground.

The killer stares down at his latest handiwork. What a rush! The sound of the blade tearing through skin and flesh, the sudden burst of blood spouting out the wound, even the sickly sweet scent of the man’s life force intoxicated him. He inhaled the scent deeply as he bent over to clean off his knife on the man’s shirt. This was just another stepping stone in order to prepare himself for his main goal.

Vengeance, he thought, I will have it soon. I just need to make sure my skills are up to par to get away with this. Hopefully this gets you quivering in those expensive boots of yours as well.

The figure cloaked in darkness exited the alley where he committed his crime, casually integrating with the night’s pedestrians. As he passed a homeless man and his fire barrel, he casually tossed his bloodstained gloves into the flames. An experienced killer will not leave any incriminating evidence. Fortunately he didn’t get any blood on his clothes this time.

After handing the homeless man some coins, he continued on. The journey home was uneventful after that. No one paid any attention to the moderately well-dressed man walking down the street. No one knew the chaotic thoughts running through his mind at the moment. No one knew the pain and suffering he has gone through to get this far, or the lengths to which he’ll go to achieve what he wants. All they see is an average man who prefers black colours and cloaks. No one would suspect he was the one behind the current string of murders that have been happening.

The killer arrived at his home, located in a quiet, peaceful part of Kvatch. As he hung up his cloak, he contemplated his next move. The best approach would be to wait a couple of days before initiating his next murder. There was no need to be hasty and become careless. The point was to get away with his mission in the end; suspicions must be avoided at all costs.

As he climbed into bed, his thoughts were still running through his actions of the night, reliving every beautifully bloody moment. He closed his eyes and knew what his dream was going to be. It has always been the same recently.

Sweet, bloody revenge.

This post has been edited by The Metal Mallet: Jun 19 2006, 05:52 AM

[The Metal Mallet]

Sadistic am I? Well that could certainly change, for all you know this could all be a dream and the killer actually loves to snuggle bunnies and chipmunks and such.... Oh who am I kidding! The character himself is sadistic. On with more!

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A small ray of sunlight splashing across the eyes of Count Vernon Goldwine causes him to wake. Muttering curses, Goldwine rolls over and tries to fall back asleep. After a few moments he throws off the sheets and sits up. There was no point. Once he was awake, he was awake.

Goldwine drags himself into his washroom to prepare himself for the day. Ideally, Goldwine always wants to look his best when taking care of Kvatch’s daily procedures. While splashing water onto his face, the Count stares at himself in the mirror.

“You’re not the young and handsome man you used to be are you, Vernon?” Goldwine asks his reflection. The only remains of his youth are contained in his eyes. They still spark and cackle with the power of his youth. Unyielding, determined, and sharp. The rest of him has followed his age; his stomach protrudes, his once lush brown hair is now thinning and flecked with grey, even his face has become creased and saggy.

A rapping on his bedroom door causes the Count to choke on his toothpaste as he was brushing.

“Sir, I have some mess-”.

“Dammit, Brixley! Just leave my messages down in front of the door! You know I don’t like being disturbed in the morning!” Goldwine yells, cutting off his butler.

“Certainly, sir,” comes the humble reply from the butler, his footsteps all ready receding.

A few minutes later, Goldwine steps out of his bedroom dressed in an expensive robe and cloak. Today he felt formal. He bends over and picks up the messages Brixley left then begins to stroll down the hallway, reading the messages.

Tax reports, town coffers reports, wage schedules for his employees, an upcoming court case that needed to be held, all seemed like usual daily messages. The next message was an article taken out of the Black Horse Courier. Scanning the headline alone stopped the Count dead in his tracks. He looked up, hoping the next time he looked down at the article it would change. He looked down, and reread the headline:

MYSTERY KILLER SLAYS ANOTHER TOWN GUARD

All of Kvatch Castle could hear the yell of fury that came from their beloved Count.

“This is the fourth time! The FOURTH!! What does Savlian thinks he’s doing!? Brixley!”.

Almost immediately, Brixley appears, “Yes sir?”.

“I would like my Captain of the Guard to attend lunch with me today. We have things to discuss”.

“I will see to it, sir” the humble Breton replies.

“Good. Things are beginning to become unsettling around here…”.