"Devour"

"Devour"

The words hung in my ears. 

Darkness. 

I desperately tried to open my eyes but had no luck. I entered a state of seemingly half unconsciousness. 

I could still feel the course and rough dirt as Thassius dragged me across the battlefield but no noise entered my ears past the word devour. 

The word still reverberated within my head bouncing from ear to ear. 

After several more minutes, the dragging feeling began to slow before coming to a stop. I felt my body droop down to the floor. 

Soft fabrics gently dressed my wounds. 

I assume this is Thassius as well. 

Maybe there are still rats I can trust. 

As I rested my head gently on the spiky green tips of grass that layered the ground I lay upon a splitting headache that seemingly ripped through my brain. Every single section of my body began to throb with excruciating pain. 

Mutterings began to fill my brain.

They were inconceivable and spoke in a calm, raspy voice which dug into my soul. 

The mutterings slowly became louder and louder seemingly trying to contest with the ebbing pain throughout my body. 

The words became easier to hear. 

Well, "words" wasn't exactly true. 

The word became easier to hear. 

"Devour"

The same phrase muttered again and again. 

"I hear it" 

The words seemed to slip unconsciously out of my mouth. 

An endless cacophony. My once-fatigued was filled with illustrious energy. 

It feels good. 

I feel free. 

My eyes shot open revealing a world of swirling colours. I stared fixedly at the mosaic of colours. Blues are even more blue than the word blue could describe. 

It was beautiful. 

I raise steadily to my feet. 

They felt strong. 

The pain which once plagued me slipped away being buried deep in my mind. 

Now standing, I got a better picture of the view in front of me. 

Where once was a mixture of colours, now there is a black waste. Greys and deep bottomless blues encroached on the stunning beauty. 

I needed to destroy it. No, I have to destroy it. 

I barreled forward abandoning my two-legged running style. Like an animal, I bounded towards the darker colours. 

I reached down to grab at my swords however found nothing there. This did not deter me.

Now at an almost unstoppable speed, the dark wasteland became closer and closer. Sound had blended together to become a static buzz in my ears. 

The stench reeked of death and horror. Even more of a reason to destroy it. 

Now close enough to lunge towards it I leaped into the darkness. Claws at the ready I dug them into anything and everything I could. Like butter, I scratched through all that stood in my way. Using my sharp front teeth I dug into the blackness desperately attempting to destroy it. 

Why this deep darkness had irritated me so, I did not know. It just felt correct. With each shred of the deep black I eviscerated more seemed to arrive. This did not slow me. The fear which should have gripped me had long since fallen away. 

The more I destroyed the more it exploded in a mess of colours. Bright reds danced in the air seemingly celebrating the deeper I went. 

I am unstoppable. 

The monotonous destruction continued for what felt like hours. The fatigue which once plagued me felt nothing more than a gentle ebb in my arms and legs. 

Yet I continued. Piece by piece, shade by shade. 

I dug further into the pitch black. Surrounded I lashed out in flurries of attacks. 

This feeling was incredible. 

The feeling of pure ecstasy. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How is this possible? 

I looked on with an astonished look clearly plastered across my face. 

Just now he had been on death's doorstep begging to enter and yet now he sprinted back down into the battle. 

My full black armour weighed heavy on my shoulders as I raced to catch up with him. 

"Schreetch" I called after him to no response. 

He was closing in on the goblin horde. 

Fear flashed on their faces as if they were staring into the eyes of the devil himself. 

Itch and our platoon had already retreated and yet one rat now charged them down. 

He hit the disorganised goblin ranks like a rock slaughtering all those he got his claws onto. 

His brutality is unmatched as he sliced and carved a path deeper and deeper into the ranks of the Golbin troop.

I tried to follow but was stopped by the ranks upon ranks of goblins which now stood between us. 

Falling back I stared bewildered into the goblin horde where Schreetch was making a bloodbath of the poor green creatures. 

Cheers rang out through the ranks of the rats. 

I saw Itch full pace running towards me. A furious look permeated his face. 

"Whats the fucks is he doing"

"I don't knows he just ran off"

I truly had no idea. How could he go from almost becoming a corpse to doing this? 

"Whys is our kings still silents. The goblin kings made his moves already why stay silent"

I shared Itches Wonder. Schreetch had only recently taught us about characteristics and introduced our king like he was some sort of god walking the mortal plane. Yet now he stays silent. 

Even like this Schreetch could not slaughter the whole hord alone. 

I kept my eyes fixated on the white dot as it tore through the goblin ranks causing blood to spurt dramatically into the air. 

What did he hear? 

Before he took of he uttered but one line. 

"I hear it"

Nothing was said and yet still he alone heard something. 

Whatever it was it had created a monster. A monster which showed no signs of stopping its rampage. 

The goblins stood no chance. Most did not even draw or raise their weapon before death had already arrived upon them. The fierce claw-shaped sickle of the Grim Reaper. 

The once demoralised rats began chanting in unison. One name. Not schreetch head taker as I'm sure he most likely would have wanted. But another name. One used only once before. 

"The white devil"

A name which struck fear in the hearts of goblins in that remote village now hummed across the battlefield. 

Vigour returned to the faces of rats as they began flooding around the chasm. Moral had shifted back in our favour. 

A flood of furry creatures slammed into the flanks of the goblin army. Now with renewed vigour, many tried to replicate the brutal nature of "The white devil". 

The battle which had been largely prevented by the 'trick' had finally begun.