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]

Well I thought my readers, possibly limited as they are, I have no idea, deserve another installment from my fic! I apologize in advance for what lies ahead......


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The grisliness of the scene displayed before Savlian brought waves of nausea and frustration. The killer had indeed broken the stalemate, in perhaps their most violent offering so far. Two mangled bodies were sprawled across the street in front of ‘The Flying Bosmer’. One was Dalewin, a veteran of the guard, the force will suffer from his death. Tragic as Dalewin’s death was, the second body caused more grief for Savlian. The body of Ferrik laid smashed against the cobblestones of the road. His head was split open, blood and brain matter was pooled around his head. Savlian could barely suppress the bile that was rising up his throat.

Henrik is going to kill me…, Savlian thought, Unless the Count kills me first.

Savlian bit on his lower lip in nervousness as he surveyed the scene. It was still early in the morning, the streets were basically void of life. It was the patrolling guards that had awaken him to bring the news of what they found outside the pub. He had immediately travelled to the crime scene to look for evidence. Yet again, very little physical evidence was found. All that could be deducted was that Ferrik was killed by the fall out the window while Dalewin had his throat slit before being thrown out the window as well.

Hopelessness began to grow within Savlian. He still had no leads, people around him were dying, and the pressure the Count had on him was driving him insane. The stress was keeping him awake at night, and once he fell asleep his dreams were instead plagued by nightmares. It was always the same dream as well. He was always trying to catch an elusive object shrouded in darkness, all the while, a wall of darkness was steadily gaining on him during his chase of the object. The dream always ended with him being consumed by the darkness before catching the elusive object. Savlian could tell his mind was troubled as of late.

With a sigh, Savlian ran his fingers through his dirty brown hair and contemplated the repercussions for the night’s tragic event. Surely, the Count was going to blow his top over this. He could all ready picture the Count’s face, purple in rage because Savlian wasn’t doing his job as effectively as the Count wanted. That one of his “precious” guards was murdered yet again. Savlian knew deep down the Count didn’t care one bit about what happened to the guards. He was more concerned about how the murdered guards reflected his rule of Kvatch. People would want to leave if the situation were to get worse. If people were to leave, fewer taxes would be collected for the Count. Less money for the Count’s own use would make him furious.

While the Count could possibly throw him in jail for negligence, Savlian had a greater concern for how Henrik would react to the death of his brother. The bond between them was strong. Ferrik idolized his older brother from a young age and wanted to emulate everything about him. Henrik encouraged everything Ferrik did. He trained him, and told him about the duty of a guard. He inspired Ferrik to follow his brother’s footsteps and become a guard. That bond worried Savlian though. If Henrik thought that he was to blame for Ferrik’s death, Henrik would likely try to kill him. He still had time to try to break the bad news to him quietly. It was the best he could do.

Savlian finally looked over to the guards who brought him over to the crime scene. “I’ve seen enough, get a mortician and clean this up. Do a good job of it.” He than went off toward where he knew Henrik was staying.


Along the way, another guard stopped him. Horror filled Savlian’s thoughts, No, not another murder! This can’t be happening!

Fortunately, it was better news than that.

“Sir, I believe one of the ex-convicts you have me following is up to something. Do you want to follow me?” asked the guard.

The hopelessness that gripped Savlian only moments ago began to dissipate, and a drive began to grow. A drive that he could catch this monster. “Yes, lead the way.”



The place was a dive. It reeked of rotten food, soiled waste, and decay. The wooden shack was rundown, weather-beaten, and falling apart. The wood was stained with a brown substance that Savlian better thought was left unknown. It seemed as if the convict could leave prison, but the prison didn’t leave the convict. Savlian was glad he didn’t have to visit the cells very often, because the overwhelming stench would drive him insane. This place reminded him too much of that.

It almost seemed stereotypical that this was the place to harbour a homicidal manic. It was the perfect picture of a deranged mind. Savlian’s pulse raced as he hid behind a ruined stone fence, observing the house of Uragh zub-Grech, an Orc who had been charged with assault of the Town Guard. The picture fit well in Savlian’s mind, but there was something there, trying to tug on his thoughts but his anticipation pushed it away.

“So what’s suspicious about Uragh?” queried Savlian.

“She’s been lurking around town, talking with other shady looking people. I think she’s at least connected to what’s been going on. A scout maybe. We’ll find out once we question her I guess.”

Savlian just nodded. A movement caught his eye and he immediately took lower cover behind the fence and motioned the guard to do the same. He held a finger over his mouth to signal for silence. The guard nodded in understanding.

Just over the wall, a faint grumbling was heard by a gruff, feminine voice. Instinctively, Savlian knew that must be Uragh so he slowly peeked over the edge of the fence to observe what she was up to.

Uragh was large for a female Orc. She looked incredibly strong, which left Savlian to wonder just how due to the living conditions she was living in. The apparel did fit the conditions on the other hand. Her farmers shirt, once white, did not recognize its original colour anymore. It was more of an off-yellow with many brown blotches spread throughout the shirt. Her black pants were not in much better shape, they were quite tattered and mud caked.

Her grumbling was over carrying a large crate that she appeared to have difficulty carrying. The crate was closed, so Savlian could not tell what was in it, but the objects were definitely rattling loudly. His curiosity changed as a red-stained knife fell out of Uragh’s belt as she fumbled with trying to open the door to her shack. The red stain screamed murder weapon to Savlian as he sprang over the fence and rushed over to the shack.

“Hold it right there! Put your hands up!” Savlian called, placing his hand over his sword in case things were to get out of hand.

Uragh dropped the crate in shock. With a curse she went to her belt for her knife. Upon realizing it wasn’t there she cursed again and took off towards town.

Savlian gave chase. He heard his partner call out to him but the excitement of the situation caused him to ignore it. I have the killer! She ran, so it MUST be her! He thought as he leaped over the stone fence again during his pursuit.

Uragh’s speed was surprising given her size, she had a sizable lead on Savlian. Savlian was a fit man though, and he was steadily gaining on the Orc. He hoped he didn’t lose her in the crowds of Kvatch. He did not want to lose his chance at ending the madness sooner rather than later. He was not going to let her escape.

Uragh entered a rundown warehouse located on the outskirts of the city. Carelessly, Savlian followed her into the warehouse. Upon entering, he found Uragh standing in the middle of the vacant warehouse. He soon realized that vacant wasn’t the truth of the situation as he heard multiple pairs of footsteps echoing in the vast warehouse. Looking around Savlian discovered 3 other grimy looking people slowly surrounding him. Two of them were Dunmer, while the third was another large Orc male. None of them were happy to see Savlian here. All three of them were armed with knives.

Savlian had ran into a trap and his partner was no where to be seen.