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]

So far, the day for Savlian could be compared to walking in the planes of Oblivion without any clothes. Absolute misery. He had received word shortly after getting mended from his injuries that the Count wanted to speak with him. The little sense of accomplishment of capturing drug dealers were vanquished with that summons. Savlian knew he was going to get a verbal lashing, and it would get worse the longer it took for him to get to the castle. So he had immediately set off in the appropriate direction. Just thinking of the trip caused his hand to instinctively massage his sore jaw. He had ran into Henrik along the way, the result didn’t go too well. Henrik’s words still echoed in Savlian’s head after the punch to the jaw by Henrik.

“You’re failing everyone Cap. I’m going to get things done, my way, and you better stay out of it.”

Failing. That’s all he’s done so far. Fail. Sure he had made attempts to discover who the killer was, but so far all his methods had failed. His failures had cost him 6 lives of men and mer who worked for him, and expected him to succeed. They looked up to him. The best thing he could do for them was let them die it seemed. A successful leader would not have let this happened, he would’ve had this monster behind bars or dead by now. Not Savlian though, he let the killer continue his now more violent rampage. Kvatch was beginning to fear its streets. He was doing an injustice to his fair city. He needed to figure out some way to make up for it. Regretfully, Savlian entered the castle grounds, he figured that the Count would be lounging in the garden at this time of day.

Observing the scenery of the sprawling gardens, Savlian found it ironic how such a beautiful place could contain such a despicable person. The gardens were a lavish, organic, and serene place with colourful flora, towering trees, and trimmed hedges. It was truly a peaceful looking place. It just simply boggled Savlian’s mind that someone with is inconsiderate, egotistical, and brutal would spend time in a place like this.

Indeed, Savlian did find the Count in the gardens. He was lounging in a chair that was looking out over the scenic gardens. His butler, Brixley, was holding a parasol over the Count’s head so he would avoid the possibly chance of being burnt by the sun. The smug expression on the Count’s face told Savlian that he was going to enjoy ragging on him.

“Well it’s about time you arrived, Captain. It has been over an hour since I sent word to speak with you, I wanted you here immediately,” the Count said cynically.

“Sorry, sir, I ran into the older brother of one of my deceased men. It didn’t go well.”

“No less than you deserve I assume… Now has your investigation improved?” asked the Count.

“We have been following the lead that the murderer was someone who was previously in prison. This method has just recently stopped a local skooma dealing operation. I expect this method will discover the identity of the killer soon,” replied Savlian. He knew the last part was a lie. This person definitely was not a former criminal, at least not in Kvatch. He hoped that showing confidence in the investigation would lower the Count’s rebuttal.

The Count’s face contorted in a wicked looking way for a brief moment before answering. “Which is more dangerous, Captain? Skooma dealers or a homicidal maniac? Hmm?”

Savlian stood silently.

“That was not a rhetorical question!”

“The maniac, sir,” Savlian practically sighed.

“Right. The maniac. So I strongly suggest you focus on the maniac instead of the dealers from now on. I’m beginning to question my decision in making you the Captain of the Guard if you can’t keep my town safe. That is the duty of the Captain is it not?”

“Yes it is, sir,” Savlian answered through gritted teeth.

A cold expression crossed the face of the Count. “Well then, do your job. Make sure it is done soon, or else I will need to replace you. I personally think Hlodir would make a good replacement. He is exceeding beyond your capacity in the job he replaced you for previously. I’m sure he would be able to do both jobs even, if need be.”

Savlian simply nodded, snapped a salute, and vacated the gardens. He had work to do. It was upsetting that such a beautiful place made him so angry…