A Raven's Vengeance
-There will be another warning for visual violence in this chapter.-
A beautiful winter day unfolded with a radiant sun casting its warm glow on the surroundings. The air carried a crisp chill, invigorating every breath. The ground was blanketed in pristine snow, its surface glistening like a field of diamonds under the winter sunlight. Trees stood adorned with a delicate frosting of snow, and icicles hung from branches like shimmering ornaments.
The low-angled sun painted the landscape in golden hues, creating a play of shadows that added depth and elegance to the winter scene. The clear blue sky served as a perfect backdrop for nature's winter display.
As the day progressed, the sun's rays interacted with the winter elements, turning icicles into translucent sculptures and transforming the snow-covered landscape into a sparkling wonderland. It was a day that invited people to step outside, feel the gentle warmth of the sun on their faces, and appreciate the serene beauty of winter in full sunlight.
But it wasn't everyone who enjoyed the calm winter day. In a dimly lit room, a solitary man with raven-black hair sat shrouded in shadows, surrounded by an ominous stillness. The feeble light barely revealed the contours of his face as he meticulously pored over a collection of files spread across the table. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, accentuated by the muffled whispers of rustling papers. Each file seemed to hold secrets and shadows, and the room embraced an atmosphere of foreboding mystery. The darkness clung to him like a cloak as he immersed himself in the unsettling task at hand. His gaze, intense and unwavering, traversed the disturbing contents of each file, revealing a determination bordering on obsession. In that space, the black-haired man navigated through the murky depths of information with an unsettling purpose.
As he sat there looking through each file, he contemplated over the emergence of himself. The detective was sharp, just as he had expected. He had seen the detective look for him in different ways, and it was only a matter of time before he found something. That didn't concern him, he kept tabs on the detective and he new every move he would make. But there was someone else looking for him. He had gathered information that someone had been in search of him. They obviously didn't now his name or much about him, but he knew something about them.
He had sent his spies out to different locations and told them to keep alert if somebody mentioned him. It had only taken a day, before one of his spies had come back and confided in him what it had seen and heard. The man had been rather careless, openly talking about him to some crooks just outside Hosu. They hadn't given him any good information so he had walked away. His spy had followed him all the way to a non suspect grey building. It had gotten a short glimpse of a bar but nothing else. It had tried to listen or see, but the walls had held voices from being heard and there had been no windows. It had made so he new little about them, but he was quite sure that it wasn't just one person and that they definitely weren't a hero group.
As his fingers grazed the cold surface of a particular file, his eyes narrowed with anticipation. Pulling it closer, he began to unravel the story of a person, their life encapsulated in the inked revelations on the pages. The black-haired man became an embodiment of the shadows, dissecting the unsettling truths that lay buried within the file's ominous contents. As he turned the final page, a sinister revelation emerged, his features only taking on a small look of discontent. He had found his new target, the hunter had found its prey. But this wasn't just going to be a planned attack, this was going to be a mental breakdown of their strength of mind, an invasion of their body and their soul, until nothing but an empty husk of what had once been remained.
He looked towards the door. He could start now, but this would risk his chances of further being seen or at worst being caught. He couldn't let emotions take control, a reckless risk would be an act of idiocy on his part. He needed to regain his composure before he began. He thought to the outside, there would be too many people milling around, an invitation for someone to see what he was doing, even if it wasn't obvious. It could wait to tomorrow, he could begin his preparations today. Taking the file, he hung it up on his wall where the only light was shining on. It hung like a central piece that was to be the main focus in an art hall taking all the spotlight.
- Scene change -
In the heart of the night, the street slumbered under a cloak of oppressive darkness. Dim, flickering streetlights cast long, distorted shadows that danced along the deserted pavement. The air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness, broken only by the distant echoes of a stray cat's haunting wail. Desolate buildings loomed on either side, their facades weathered and worn, whispering tales of forgotten secrets. The feeble glow from a lone lamppost struggled to penetrate the abyss, revealing glimpses of graffiti-strewn walls and neglected storefronts. The asphalt, slick with the residue of earlier snow, reflected the scarce light, creating an illusion of an endless, murky void beneath one's feet. A chilling breeze whispered through the narrow alleyways, carrying with it the ghostly echoes of footsteps that seemed to linger from a time when the street was alive with activity. In the dead of night, the street exuded a palpable sense of abandonment, an eerie canvas where shadows and solitude conspired to create an atmosphere steeped in mystery and apprehension.
Amidst the oppressive darkness, a lone figure stumbled down the desolate street, his hurried footsteps echoing like a drumbeat against the silence. The feeble glow of the flickering streetlights revealed a visage etched with fear, the man's eyes wide and darting, searching for unseen threats in the shadows. His breath, ragged and uneven, hung in the frigid air like a visible manifestation of his unease. Torn between the compulsion to flee and the dread of the unknown, he cast furtive glances over his shoulder, convinced that unseen eyes were tracking his every move.
The eerie stillness of the night seemed to amplify the pounding of his heart as he navigated the labyrinthine alleyways, each twist and turn heightening his disorientation. A gust of wind carried the distant sound of a creaking door, setting his nerves on edge. Shadows seemed to morph into malevolent shapes, playing tricks on his paranoid mind. Every rustle of leaves and distant murmur intensified his sense of impending doom, pushing him further into the clutches of a nameless terror that lurked in the obscurity of the night. In his desperate flight, the man became a mere silhouette, a haunting specter fleeing through the dimly lit corridor of his own fears.
As the fearful man stumbled through the darkened streets, a sudden chill crawled up his spine. An ominous intuition whispered that he was no longer alone. With trepidation, he halted in his tracks, casting a wide-eyed gaze into the shadows that clung to the edges of an alley. And there, emerging from the inky darkness like a phantom, a mysterious figure materialized before him.
Cloaked in shadows, the stranger stood with an unsettling stillness, his features veiled in obscurity expect his menacing red eye. The feeble glow of a distant streetlight outlined the silhouette of a man, but his face remained an enigma concealed in the dark. A cold wind swept through the narrow passage, causing the stranger's attire to ripple ominously.
Silence hung thick in the air, broken only by the distant echoes of the city's nocturnal whispers. The man's heart pounded in his chest as he grappled with the eerie realization that the night had brought before him an unwelcome companion. The stranger, an embodiment of the shadows themselves, seemed to harbor a presence that defied explanation, a force that left the terrified man standing at the threshold of a foreboding encounter.
The man walked out of the shadows revealing himself to the terrified man. His one eye a black pool of nothingness and the other as red as hell itself. He lifted his left arm from under his cloak, revealing his translucent red arm covered in feathers.
As the man continued his silent advance, the weight of fear bore down on the trembling man, an oppressive force that rendered his legs weak and unsteady. Unable to withstand the suffocating intensity of the encounter, he sank to his knees in the cold, unforgiving embrace of the asphalt.
The street seemed to constrict around him, shadows closing in like spectral hands, as the man, now on his knees, struggled to maintain composure. His breaths came in shallow gasps, a visible testament to the panic that gripped him. The stranger, an indistinct silhouette against the backdrop, loomed over the fallen figure, an embodiment of the fears that lurked in the recesses of the man's psyche.
''You've fallen to your knees only from my presence, how you have fallen from grace.'' The cold tone was even sharper that the chilling winds around them. ''It's seems only right that we meet again in the place we last met, now under different circumstances.''
The man on his knees didn't answer, he hadn't noticed where he had run in his terrified state.
''You do not remember what a shame, don't worry I shall bring you back with my memories.''
He raised his hand an bolts of red lightning struck the man right in his stomach. He tried to scream out in pain but only gasps and low grunts were allowed to come out. He could feel the electricity inside him working as a shocking system not allowing him to move. A kick hit him right in the solar plexus, making him contract in pain. He gasped trying to get some air in his lungs, but only short burst of air would come in and they would leave quickly. He felt as if he was going to suffocate.
''Look at me.'' The voice came from the man and was that of a leader commanding a subordinate.
The man on the ground looked but quickly averted his eyes as he met the red eye of the man.
''How does it feel to not be in control, to be the one subjected to begging for his life while kneeling before his attacker?'' The cold tone was full of distaste for the man laying on the ground. He didn't answer.
''Now you are the one who isn't talking, what's the sudden change? You were always so good with tricking people with that snake of a mouth.'' No answer again.
''Well if you don't want to answer, there should be no reason for you to need your tongue.'' The red eyed man took a hold of the hair of his downed target. The scared man opened his eyes in terror shaking his head, trying to bring forth the words no.
''Now the snake suddenly wants to talk, how unfortunate, it should have uncoiled its tongue earlier.'' The man reached with his red arm towards the mans mouth, opening it and reaching with his hand to the back of his mouth. A red light flared up inside the mans mouth, this time a scream came only for to take the form of gurgles. The man took his red hand out of the mans mouth, holding his tongue on his hand. The man now missing a tongue bled from his mouth, it was already swelling up. Tears were forming in his eyes dropping down, but disappearing in the already wet street.
''You might no remember me yet, but I trust even you could figure it out after this.'' From under his cloak he found a katana. The mans eyes widened, shaking his head in fear. It had all come rushing back to him as soon as he saw the katana. It should be impossible, he thought the boy had died that day.
''Destiny has led you to this day, now you are being presented with the consequences of your actions.'' He took a firm grip of his left arm. Drawing the sword back he swung it with a force driven by hatred. The cut was clean, blood spilled out of the opened shoulder, the man again tried to scream but failed, almost passing out due to the blood loss.
The red eye looked at the man with no pity or remorse, just staring at him writhing on the ground. Turning his back towards the man on the ground he talked in a voice just loud enough to be heard.
''Now the ravens feast begins.'' He raised his red arm towards the sky as he walked away. An unkindness flew out of nowhere towards the downed man, their red eyes shining in the dark.
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Hello readers. I tried something a bit different here. I tried to make a longer chapter with some more descriptions and detail to see how that feels. Do you prefer this or the shorter chapters with less detail?
Have a good day.
- POC