Categories > Original > Fantasy > Strannah's Crimson Blood

Can you live without Blood?

by Dsb 1 review

A story of love, violence, and vengeance. Lots of blood...violent. Main character with big mood swings. Rated for all of the above. Very descriptive, language.

Category: Fantasy - Rating: R - Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fantasy - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2007-05-08 - Updated: 2007-05-08 - 743 words

1Ambiance
Strannah' Crimson Blood

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Chapter 1- Can you live without blood?

The dark figure in the bar was watching intently, waiting to strike. His full black hood and

coat, fitted with his black pants, truly made him invisible to all but the keenest human. In the

eerie blue light from the tavern's alcohol shop, he had just enough illumination for him to survey

his target. The barkeep was a weak Caucasian female, who had obviously failed to bathe in the

last few days. The multiple drunks chatting amongst themselves in front of the cash register where

mostly composed of middle aged men with medium builds. "You gonna order foo?" the barkeep

questioned the mysterious thief. The out of place shape stepped forward slowly, after his hood

casually dropped off his head. The bandit had long dark brown hair, covering his azure eyes. He

plopped himself right in front of the merchant slowly, and smiled broadly. "Yes, I believe you can

give me all the money you have there."

Laughing, his fellow drunkards hooted cries of amusement. He laughed a bit himself, feeling

sorry for the business girl behind the serving counter. Her eyes grew wide as she stared into his,

realizing he wasn't making a hideous joke. The intoxicated males had foolishly leaned towards

him, still thinking this was a gag. With two wide strokes, his deceived friends dropped dead. The

feminine form panicked, and tried to smite him, with the hand of god. Laughing, the thug took her

from her post and hung her from the ceiling, from her arms. "God will help you, I'm sure," he

chuckled. The manly outline sliced her wrists and ankles, before cutting a devilish rune in her

back. "Can you live without blood?"

The female junkie kicked him straight in the chin, falling him. She dropped, suddenly

disconnected from her bonds. She began to strike with anger, and took to her blade. Ignoring her

rampant assault, the young man grabbed her neck, but avoided strangling her. The multiple stab

wounds that were being created by the second meant nothing to him. Being lifted off the ground

and pushed against the wall, the lady victim gave up on her beating, and took to her instincts. She

grabbed her neck and her attacker's hands, even though she could still breathe clearly. Suddenly

she was flipped around and slammed on the ground, paralyzing her from any possible movement.

Taking his small dagger, the now bored male cut a circular hole in the woman's neck. Thrusting his

hand into her neck, he stood up. Part of her followed, the rest dropped lifelessly to the floor. He

held in his hand her complete backbone, and laughed at her mutilated body. He stealthily escaped

his place of business, and soon blended in with the commoners.

The deep group of spectators soon created a ring around the inn, and the mayor, who claimed to

be "the law", investigated the scene. While this was going on, the clever pickpocket took to

another one of his specialties. Extraction was always a finer point of his, and in big crowds such

things where too easy. As he rounded up more currency, the mayor stepped out to deliver a report.

"Good people of my town, this was a very obvious rape and robbery. The female bartender has

been mutilated and obviously lost any virginity she had, and her male customers where killed

with no warning. The murderer could be anywhere, I advise you all to leave now." Suddenly the

bar's sign fell down, crushing the first few lines of spectators. "What the hell?!" the mayor

shouted. While the townsfolk stared at the mayor for such language, the brigand made his

getaway. He heard the burning of fire behind him, and knew some innocent bystander had been

blamed, one with a temper.

On the outskirts of the small town, the swashbuckler leaned against a tree. His hood returned to

it's usual place, the ninja was counting his loot. "Just enough to get it," he chuckled. Looking to

the stars, the sheltered being cried softly. "Strannah, honey, I'll get you a present you can be

proud of. And I won't even steal it this time." Sighing deeply, the disturbed young man walked

down the dirt trail, opposite of the town. He wiped tears aside, and cursed himself for showing

such emotion without being provoked. He silently mumbled to himself, "Strannah, I'm coming.

Don't worry, I'm coming, Encirnia is coming home baby."
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