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]

Hmmm, things seem to be going a little slow over here in the Fan Fiction section. I guess everyone is enjoying their summers a lot. Well I'll reward the few people still around with an update! You're very welcome everyone!


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Savlian woke up with a dull pounding in his head and the vile taste of bile in his mouth. The nauseated feeling in his stomach only added to his discomfort as he slowly rose out his bed. It was going to be a difficult day if he felt like this the whole time. He trudged over to the washbasin and splashed the cool water against his face. Sighing, Savlian looked up into the mirror as he grabbed a towel to dry off his face. The previous day’s events had taken a toll on Savlian. His right eye was purple due to bruising, and slightly swollen, causing his vision to be less expansive. The right corner of his lip was large and swollen; basically, his face was a pale, swollen, and haggard-looking mess.

I am never going to drink again… Savlian thought bitterly as he gently touched his lip. Wincing, he retracted his hand. It looked like he was not going to be in any sort of shape to go out on patrol today. He probably needed a day to rest. First off, it would give him time to get over his hangover, and second, a stress free day would really do him some good. A knocking at his door caused an end to Savlian’s hopeful thoughts. People knocking on his door always meant that someone wanted him to do something.

Begrudgingly, Savlian trudged to the door and opened it up. The face on the other side made a surprised expression.

“What the hell happened to you Cap?” the guard asked.

“None of your business. Now what the hell do you want, I’m not feeling well so you better make it fast,” Savlian replied with an edge to his voice.

The guard stood there for a moment, conflicted. “Sir, we found more bodies… It’s George and Henrik. I think you should see this, being your case and all…”

Savlian cursed loudly, and walked around from the door, leaving it ajar. “Great! Just great! What did I do to deserve this!?” he asked the air and he began to pull out his guard attire. He then chuckled bitterly; I know damn well what I did to deserve this…

A few minutes later Savlian exited his home, wearing standard guard attire; chain mail, and the Kvatch tabard, equipped with the appropriate slashes for his rank. He nodded to the guard accompanying him and began to follow him down into the center of the town.

Shortly after they begun their decent into town, a flash of lightning filled the sky and was shortly followed by a peal of thunder. A heavy torrent a rain began to fall as if to answer the call of the thunder. Slumping his head forward, Savlian muttered, “Perfect…,” and continued on his trek. Though it was likely there would be no evidence if it indeed was the killer who struck again, the rain certified that there would be no evidence whatsoever.

Savlian knew immediately they reached the murder scene as a river of crimson flowed out of the alleyway and into the storm drains. The churning blood did no help to Savlian’s all ready queasy stomach. Suppressing the nausea, Savlian peered into alleyway. Despite not being as messy as the other crime scenes, the image displayed before Savlian was still upsetting. George was sprawled, face down, in a pool of water. The paleness of death covered his exposed body. Meanwhile, Henrik’s cold, dead eyes stared up to the sky. Not even the rain splashing into them would cause them to blink. His whole torso was discoloured with blood. A lump grew in Savlian’s throat as he tried to withhold the emotions rising up within him.

From the looks of the scene, Henrik had indeed tried to catch the murderer “his way”. He had set a trap for the killer by using George as bait. Unfortunately, Henrik must not have been able to intercept the killer killing George. Since Henrik’s wound was fatal, but not instantly, the killer must’ve gotten into an altercation with him. That simply defied logic though, how could an assassin, likely armed with a simple dagger, defeat a highly trained swordsman who had vengeance on his mind? This killer was more dangerous than Savlian ever anticipated if he could defeat a sword-wielding Redguard in armed combat.

Savlian took a moment to offer a prayer to the fallen men.

At least you’re with your brother again, Henrik, peace be with you, friend.

Savlian looked over to his accompanying guard, who was involved in a conversation with what looked to be a homeless man. The man seemed to be talking quite urgently with the guard, and suddenly indicated an action across his shirt. Both Savlian and the guard made a surprised expression as a streak of blood was revealed across his shirt. The guard looked over to Savlian and waved him over.

Savlian walked over to the two men, shivering from the cold rain falling down. “What does this fellow want?” he inquired.

“The name’s Madsen, been living here since that whole Tharn incident a wile back. Rather embarrassing situation wasn’t it?” he looked embarrassed momentarily. “Sorry, I’m getting off topic. I just wanted you to know about this odd thing that happened to me last night.”

Hope flickered across Savlian’s eyes. “Go ahead good sir, anything at this time will help.”

The homeless man cleared his throat roughly, “Well, there’s always this one gentleman who visits me for a little chat from time to time. We make some small talk, he then gives me a few gold septims and goes on his way. He seemed like a nice fellow, until last night. He seemed to be in a bad mood. I just wanted to start up a conversation, but he just brushed me off, quite roughly to add. I kinda glare at his back and then look down at myself and what do I see?” He pulled at his shirt, a disgusted look across his face, “Blood! I don’t know whose, but I would have to say his due to his mood.”

Savlian smiled, things were taking a turning point. He turned the guard assisting him. “Could you please take Madsen down to the barracks, get his nice and comfortable,” he then turned to Madsen, “You would be able to give us a decent description of this man, correct?”

“That I would sir.”

“Excellent, now you’re going down to barracks to give a description of this person. We’re going to try to treat you real nice. You all right with that?” Savlian asked warmly.

The homeless man smiled, “I would love a nice hot meal.”

“We will get you that at the barracks, Lucile here will escort you,” said Savlian, motioning to the guard beside him.

The two men began to set off, but something dawned on Savlian and he called out to them, “Hold on! Which direction did he walk off to, Madsen?”

Madsen pondered the question for a second. “He went off north of here, likely towards the more upper middle class area of town, seeing as his clothes were quite fine.”

“Thank you Madsen.”

“Very welcome sir.”

As the two men headed off towards the barracks, Savlian headed north. Eager to scope out the landscape of where the possible killer would be. Silently, he thanked Henrik yet again for his sacrifice.

Without your help, I don’t know if we would’ve had this opportunity.

Savlian chuckled dryly as his recently vanished determination began to settle in once again. Who would have thought that such a gloomy day would bring a glimmer of light at the end of this nearly hopeless tunnel?