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Witch Hunter: Blood and Magic

Warning notice! Violence, including physical assault, murder, and torture Gore, including descriptions of blood, wounds, and bodily harm Abuse, including physical, emotional, and sexual abuse Death, including graphic depictions of death and dying Mental illness, including psychosis, depression, and anxiety Addiction, including drug and alcohol addiction Trauma, including PTSD and other forms of psychological trauma Supernatural horror, including demonic possession, hauntings, and occult rituals. Synopsis (In a single simple sentence.) When a Hero of the world was brutally forced to watch his wife being ravaged by his two best friends while she enjoys it, he vowed to take revenge on all of them, and the heavens and the creator gave him another chance.

The_Thunder_Lord · Fantasie
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87 Chs

Kiss of Life (2)

And then, almost imperceptibly at first, the bleeding from Kaitlynn's wounds began to slow. A collective sigh of relief echoed through the cavern as the flow of blood gradually ceased, the crimson tide receding like a retreating wave.

But the true miracle unfolded before their eyes as the hole in Kaitlynn's stomach began to heal. A delicate tendril of flesh emerged from the edges of the wound, weaving its way across the gap like a thread stitching together torn fabric.

One by one, more tendrils emerged, intertwining with each other in a mesmerizing dance of regeneration. With each passing moment, the hole closed, the torn flesh knitting itself back together until there was no trace left of the grievous injury.

Kaitlynn stirred, her breathing growing steadier with each passing moment, hope blossomed anew in the hearts of her companions, a beacon of light in the darkness of their despair.

With a flicker of consciousness, Kaitlynn's eyes fluttered open, her vision blurred as she struggled to focus. The pallor of death began to recede from her skin, replaced by a faint flush of color as vitality returned to her weary body. A weak smile graced her lips as she gazed up at her concerned savior.

"You... still haven't told your... name," she managed to croak out weakly.

Azrael chuckled softly, gently squeezing her hand as he replied, "I'll tell you when you tell me your real name."

"Touche," Kaitlynn replied with a faint smile before succumbing to unconsciousness once more.

Illeron breathed a sigh of relief, tears of gratitude streaming down his face as he watched his friend reclaiming life from the brink of death.

"Thank goodness!" Erik muttered under his breath, relief evident in his expression as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

Though he didn't know the identity of the two individuals lying before him, the concern and care etched on Azrael's face made it clear that they held great importance to him.

"These your friends you were talking about?" Erik inquired, crouching beside Azrael to get a better look at her.

"Yeah, these stupid ones are the ones who got kidnapped," Azrael responded, his voice tinged with both affection and exasperation as he tenderly stroked Kaitlynn's hair while she slept peacefully.

Illeron, drawn by their conversation, slowly crawled towards Azrael, the sound of his chains clinking against the ground with each movement.

"It seems our adventure has taken quite the unexpected turn, my dear best friend," Azrael remarked with a laugh, giving Illeron a playful jab on the arm. "Aren't you going to sing now?"

Illeron managed a weak chuckle through his tears. "No more, my friend. No more. This humble bard just wants to go home and see my mommy."

Azrael nodded understandingly, offering a comforting pat on Illeron's shoulder. His gaze then shifted towards Erik, who was observing their exchange with a fond smile.

"Thanks for helping me earlier. I wouldn't have been able to defeat that mage if not for you," Azrael expressed his gratitude to Erik, his sincerity evident in his tone.

Erik chuckled softly and shook his head. "Nah, don't mention it, kid. If it weren't for you, we would've been trapped here for eternity," he replied warmly, a grateful smile playing on his lips.

Azrael nodded appreciatively, his mind momentarily drifting back to Kaitlynn and the ordeal they had just overcome.

"We need to get her someplace safe where she can recover properly," Azrael murmured, his concern for Kaitlynn's well-being evident in his voice.

"We can arrange for a bed, but it's over the other side," Erik offered. "It's made up of sticks and hay, but that will do for now."

Azrael nodded, grateful for Erik's assistance. "That will have to suffice for the time being. Let's get her there as quickly as possible."

"Alright. I'll carry her," Azrael declared, rising to his feet.

But as he stood, a wave of nausea washed over him, and he felt as if his body was being torn apart. Intense pain surged through him, centered around his chest and midsection.

Gasping for breath, Azrael doubled over, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground. A dark, viscous liquid spewed from his mouth, alarming Erik who rushed to his aid.

"Oh my god! That's blood!" Erik exclaimed in panic as he supported Azrael, concern etched on his face.

Azrael could barely register Erik's words as he closed his eyes, the pain overwhelming him as darkness threatened to consume him.

***

He could see her face, gazing at him with love and tenderness. Her features were flawlessly sculpted—her nose perfectly shaped, her eyes sparkling like emeralds, and her hair radiating with luster, as if it emitted its own light. She appeared almost divine, like a goddess in his eyes.

Yet, despite her beauty, a nagging sense of absence lingered. He couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but there was definitely something missing here.

"Wake up," her melodious voice gently urged, like a soft breeze carrying whispers of comfort. "Haven't you slept enough? Don't you want to wake up, dear?"

A smile tugged at his lips. Her voice was always so soothing, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. He could listen to it forever, lost in its comforting melody.

But then, movement caught his attention behind her. Two figures, indistinct yet familiar, hovered in the background.

"Who...?" he mused aloud, his curiosity piqued.

"Oh, they? They are your best friends, honey. Your brothers, as you call them," she explained, her touch gentle as she caressed his cheeks.

"Brothers...?" he echoed, puzzled by the notion. He didn't recall having any brothers.

As his gaze shifted to the figures standing behind her, he strained to make out what they were doing. They seemed familiar, yet distant, like fragments of a forgotten memory.

One of them had blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, while the other possessed dark hair that framed his face. He had seen them before, of that he was certain. But where? The answer eluded him, buried deep within the recesses of his mind.