Chapter 2 of Victorious Hunter.
Read Chapter 1 of the Victorious Hunter substory here: [Substory] Katastrof Blood - Victorious Hunter: Initiation (Chapter 1)
Katastrof Blood - Victorious Hunter: Shatter of Faith with music links to YouTube & Looptube if you wish to have music throughout the read: - Music Links - Katastrof Blood - Victorious Hunter: Shatter of Faith - Google Docs
Katastrof Blood - Victorious Hunter: Shatter of Faith
“They all want me dead… They all hate me… This is something we share. I hate them. I want to see them all gored… All of them except for Father. He–he always encourages me to reach for greatness — no matter how. I don’t want to disappoint him; I don’t want to be Dunked again…”
That familiar heart-clenching grate of stone gates separating grabbed my attention, even if my eyes did not show it. The ‘monsters’, fitted in armor and wielding their blades of migraine-inducing symbols, stood before a blinding light, preventing any thoughts of escaping this cage with my own freewill. Similar to the gates, they displaced themselves, opening up just enough space for my eyes to be stabbed even more by the brightness. A dignified figure seemed to manifest from the light, appearing in a hardly contrasting dark. “Enlighten,” he said, sending one of the monsters to ignite a torch on the wall within my prison. “How do you fare, child?”
I felt warmness radiating in my chest. I fell into tears when he came and crawled over to grab on the black cloth of his pant legs. “Father!” I cried, planting my teary face into his low hanging robe, “Please, I won’t disappoint you again! Please! Forgive me, please!”
“Rise, child,” he ordered, “Quell your incessant whines. Grief and wallowing will never be a solution – only a distraction and a corroder of time.”
I wiped the sinful liquid from my face and eyes before rising with feign boldness. Father’s piercing gaze struck into my eyes. “Tell me, child, are you proud of what you have captured?”
"If we have room for pride, we haven’t finished our duty, Father…”
He stared down at me silently. “When is your duty fulfilled?”
“When our souls are puppetized by Penumbra’s Dream,” I answered.
Father grinned with approval. “And what is the sole way for such greatness to merge with us?”
“We… we must turn to—to…”
He frowned. “Return with a sufficient wizard’s skull before the sun’s next rise. One of true passion, or of great power. Do not disappoint,” Father warned. He turned his back to me and faded into the blinding light, and the monsters gated the exit once more. One turned their blade blunt-side, reeled back their arm and I felt a great impact striking my forehead before everything turned dark once more. Then there was a tickling on my face… and this weird feeling all over me. It’s that thing you feel that is sometimes nice but hurts a lot more once too much of it is around. That thing you feel from fire, a lantern or the sun I think. I wondered why it was so dark yet simultaneously dimly lit… until I opened my eyes and flinched as that evil day star pierced my retinas. I looked up and saw green. I stood to my feet and scanned, finding green, a thin yet seemingly infinite line of dirt, and then more green. But that discomforting feeling reappeared on my nose and in a fit I clawed it ravenously, causing the bridge and left nostril to drip red until some small dark thing buzzed off. I brought down my hand and looked down at the red dripped on it. I stared at it intensely, trembling in the lips until my eyes began to leak the clear fluid. I froze in a shaking panic and the nauseating thought flew into me, Am I crying?
I fell to my knees in this vast green landscape with my teeth bared. In a simultaneous shout, I slammed both of my preadolescent fists onto the dirt and unleashed a scream imprisoned for six years. “No puling… Father says there’s no time for puling, so stop puling!” I stammered loudly, “Why can’t I stop puling?! No puling, no puling, no puling!”
“Child?” some aged voice scratched the back of my ears.
I flung around while on my hands and knees like some mangey animal and gawked with crazed eyes at a silvering man with some walking stick. “Boy? What has happened to you?” he sought, but I continued watching him silently. “What are those raggedy wares? Some old cloth and rags for clothing? And, oh my, I can see the bones basically protruding through your skin! Why are you out here in this empty escape alone? Where are your parents?”
My breathing accelerated and my nerves went mad. My sight switched to a small blade holstered at his side and without so little a blink I lunged for it, earning a strike in the head from his walker. “What are you doing you foolish, deviant child? Oh, is this a ploy?! Are you with some bandits? Or are you of the damned defectors, eh?! Seeking to mug me?!”
I curled into a panicking ball with my arms over my head, rocking back and forth only uttering in choked up tears, “I’m– I– Sorry, I–”
The old walker growled with frustration and turned his back to me. “Now when I tell them about this, it’ll never be the end of ‘we told you not to go strolling outside the walls alone, old man!’ Yadda yadda!"
He shook his head shamefully and turned back the way he came before shuffling off. I was still in the dirt rolling within the dirt, but now incessantly mumbling, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry…”
I rolled back over onto my hands and knees as I watched him growing more and more distant. I felt my heart imploding as if it was being sucked inwards by some strong force. I called, “Wait! Please, take me with you! I didn’t mean it! I’m sorry!”
The elder jumped as I approached him rapidly. “Shoo, you mischievous little demon! Go back to your wretched people and mug somebody else!” he raged, striking me on the head once more. “Stay away from me, infernal child! I should’ve known that anyone with hazel eyes are demons!” the old man screamed before shuffling away at a quicker pace that an elder could muster.
I fell into the dirt again, whimpering like some helpless little dog and felt no greater disgust than that. With my face drenched in tears, my hands twitched with shame and embarrassment that soon boiled into rage, and they fell onto a fairly large rough stone beside me. I gripped the rock tightly and chose a random leg to hit in frustration, enough for a bleed. As I reeled it back for a second hit, I was stopped by something inside. My attention like that of a hunting beast turned to the old man growing distant and the heat of my blood seemed to rise. I stood with the stone in the grasp of my small hands and charged at him. As I quickly neared his back, I nearly tore my throat as I screamed in synchronization of my body hurling at the stone. He jolted back at me and a look of terror made itself his final feature as the rock collided with his forehead, sending the old one onto his back. I kicked him violently with what strength my legs of a decade’s time could muster and fell into a blind assault on his torso for some forgettable minutes. I felt my face hurting and stretched into a satisfied smile. The moistness of my teeth and gums felt chilled as a breeze blew and I realized – I was smiling. I stared at his head and just watched it. While the front of it had suffered little damage, a large pool of blood had circled around his skull from the back. I spat on him and swiped the blade from his leather holster before scanning up and down the dirt road.
He said that— that he was going back to his home and started moving that way… which means that I should move up… that way. Up that way if I want to find more people because more people means I can find someone who may be a wizard.
I ran up the path with the blade pointed away from me and began to slow in speed. As I slowed in movement, my eyes began to well. I continued running until the weight of guilt slowed me down to a sob-ridden trekking. Then from some depth of my soul a revulsed anger radiated in me — and I blanked with my last sight being grass, clouds, and this seemingly infinite trail. Irritating wetness, disgusting humidity, yet soothing crashes of a million drops. What was it? It’s so dark again. Am I back in the cold stone prison? The safe home given to me by Father, I mean… the prison.
I unlocked my eyes, resting up against something hard. I turned to it, discovering a great wall stretching far high and some weird things blocking out bits and portions of my vision. I felt it, pulled on it and a part of it snapped into my hand. I crawled forward and stood once free, revealing the bushes I was apparently resting behind for some reason. I was drenched and still continuing to be poured on but found mental cooling in the rain. Alongside the wall my body moved, sticking to its perimeter. I turned one corner after a lengthy stroll, finding another long stretch to traverse. My ears picked up some hustle and bustling coming from within them, but I was far too drained to worry about it. Another corner came about and I curved around it with apprehension, loosening my chest when I found what seemed to be the sides of an entrance and the dirt rod trailing into it not too far down. I rushed it, causing a silver-armored guard to lean forward and catch sight of me. “Halt, youth!” he shouted, yet not too threateningly. “Where have you come?”
I watched them with a terrified face and involuntarily restrained my mouth from making any sound. He looked so similar to the monsters… the same monsters that slew… that cut down the last of my family. With growing agitation, the guard interrogated me, “Why did you scurry off earlier when you had first arrived? Are you a rat? A spy of the enemies? More filching scum?!”
My mind stormed with questions and answers, juxtaposing my body into a freeze of bewilderment and terror as if my gaze locked with a gorgon’s. He roared, “Well?! Out with it! Before…” he aggressed with the raise of his rain-dripped sword, “I cut you down with it!”
My shocked protuberant eyes went unchanged and my petrified bones remained locked. The silver-cladded guard took a stomp forward, getting a brief jump out of me. He roared, “Speak you dimwitted miscreant! If you have no use for your voice, then I might as well take your head so that I won’t have to stare at it any longer!”
“I…”
The second gate guardian stepped in, “Silence, rotted purloiner! Begone in seconds or I’ll rid you myself!”
“Men, men! What are you doing to him?!”
There was some brown-haired woman rushing from the inner walls to the outside world. She moved quickly over to me and kneeled to my level, wrapping her arms around and pulling me closer in until I was squeezing against her red shirt… “I told you not to wander beyond the walls, James!” the stranger announced. Her attention turned to the guardsmen, “Do you two always draw your blades on children soaking in the rain?! And you two call yourselves men?! Ought to be ashamed of yourselves, you do!”
“Do not trifle with me, woman,” warned the first aggressing guard, “Both the entrance and exit of this kingdom share one path: here. Take us for fools do you? I’ll have you marched off to a cell.”
“Oh, really?! You’d think with all the time you lumbering oafs spend running off to the pub to get dizzy, you’d notice the many holes all around the walls we people have been complaining about for years! It should be you two marching off into a cell for such incompetence and stupidity! Threatening a cold, soaked child with blades?! Embarrassing! Em-ba-ra-ssing!” she raged.
Her legs straightened and she took my hand, pulling off into the kingdom spitting and uttering vulgarisms beneath her breath as she passed the armored men. The dirt road evolved into stone pavement. I stared blankly at the scene, never having seen a place with such architecture before. Huge homes of white with contrasting dark brown planks keeping them together, a stable in the distance, markets, a pub and a mighty castle set at the center to bring it all together. Maybe it was not all that special, but to eyes having seen no greater than rundown houses no bigger than ten feet high and twelve feet wide, it was as if I was amongst the land of gods. But soon, it all went away as the scenery faded into a much more organized setting. I was now inside of some place that was lit just well enough. There was a small desk to my left and a window just after that. A red, single-seat couch sat at the center of the room with many paintings decorating the walls. The lady locked her door and peered through a window before pulling on a long, thick rope that hung from a golden metal bar atop the window, resulting in a falling purple curtain prohibiting the outside world’s eyes. “Where did you come from?” she questioned me.
My mouth opened but no words were able to create themselves. The left corner of her mouth puckered with disappointment. “I hope you are not a thief. I would like to believe I did not risk my life saving a no-good?”
“I— I did steal a blade…” I admitted lowly.
She swayed her head with disappointment. “Oh dear… where are your parents? Where did you come from?”
“I don’t know where I—" I paused. "I don’t have my parents anymore. I don’t have anyone anymore…”
Her eyes became heavy and her lip quivered slightly through her restraint. “Damn this devilish world… too many people losing their lives over senseless greed. It’s only a matter of time until this place suffers that common fate. What is your name?”
I stared at her and unknowingly grinned as I muttered, “Father says I have yet to earn one.”
“I did not catch that?”
“I— L… Lauro— Lor— Lorenzo! I’m Lorenzo…”
She woman stared at me awkwardly. “Okay, Lorenzo, the guards have already heard me call you James so at least on the outside I’ll refer to you that way. I may call you by the name James here every now and then so that I don’t mistake you out in public and raise suspicion should we ever cross their path. You may call me Friede. Come, I have a vacant space for you. The bellman will ride his horse around town a’ringing when it’s time for the communal dinner.”
She moved through the nice home, turning a few corners and ascending some creaking stairs until we arrived at a short hall of two opposing doors. She opened the right one and introduced me to a room far larger than any I’ve had to be able to rest in, especially the… prison. A small mattress held up by a wooden frame sat at the corner of the room near a window that opened up towards the rest of the gray, rain splashed town. “Of course, this is what you can call yours from now on. It— it isn’t…” the lady took a grim breath, “It isn’t being used anymore so you may rest here.”
She stepped out the door, but paused when she was halfway through it. “Do you want a fruit to snack on? I have pears, lemons, apples, grapes, bananas, tangerin—”
“Grapes and bananas?!” I jumped, forgetting myself, “Can I have those?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
I listened as her steps clunking on the wood echoed in the hall and down the stairs. I pulled myself onto the bed and looked out the window to simply observe the village through the lens of a thousand-thousand raindrops. I noticed, fairly far in the distance, a humanoid figure standing in the rain. It was in some dark cloak and seemed to care naught of the crying sky. I watched it for some time without a blink until I realized that it, too, was watching me. Then I heard a brief, “Psst,” from… everywhere all at once.
I looked behind me, finding just the wall and the door to the left. I looked at the ceiling, to my right where a small dresser was with a candle set upon, and then alas forward where I was startled off of the bed onto the ground by a hideous face in— in the window. The terrifying image grinned at me with a mouth of glistening orange teeth and fiery yellow eyes. Its head seemed like that of some hybrid beast of plant, flesh and hair with twigs sticking out of its head. Yet, oddly, its face seemed rather youthful in nature. “What are you doing, idiot?!” It screamed at me in a somewhat whiny, childish tone, “Do you wanna suffer again for messing up?! Do you love being dunked?! Well I don’t! Get back to the task at hand! We don’t have time, come on! Hurry up!”
Footsteps colliding against the wooden floorboard began to grow behind me and Friede appeared from the door with a banana in grasp and a handful of grapes in the other. She looked down at me and up to the window. “What are you doing on the ground, Lorenzo? I heard a thud – are you alright?”
I looked up the glass and pointed at the creature in it. She stared at the window and moved closer to it, placing the fruits on the bed. Friede then grabbed me by the hand and helped me on the bed. The thing in the window stared at me with ever-increasing rage being demonstrated on its face. I began to quiver and sob as the thing’s hateful glare worsened. Friede embraced me, pulling me in. “It’s okay, it’s okay… I know how the world treated you so unfairly… But we shouldn’t dwell on whatever nightmares that have transpired, only look to making a better future. But to do that, we can’t be restless on an empty stomach. Eat and take yours, I’ll clean up the mess later.``
She freed me from her arms and paced over to the door. Friede pointed her finger at the candle on the dresser and squinted. Then, manifesting before her finger, was a small Plasma circle ejecting a tiny particle, igniting the candle and illuminating the room at least a fair some with a dim violet light. “When the bellman rings for the communal dinner later, we’ll go there and grab some real grub. Then we’re off to find you some proper clothing,” Friede said with some excitement she tried desperately to muzzle, but unfortunately for her it was written all over her face.
The thing in the window grinned madly and its eyes opened unnaturally wide. “Finish your task or I’ll do it for you, idiot. It’s right there for you! It can’t get any easier! Do you really want to disappoint Father again?!” it spat at me.
“Go away…” I mumbled.
“Haha,” it mocked, “stupid little idiot wants to act all tough but can’t even raise his voice!”
“Leave me alone!” I cried, sending the banana and grapes off the bed as I threw the blanket over myself. My sobs went muffled beneath the thick blanket, and the sobs went unending until they eventually weakened into snores. And then my mind awoke in the darkness. The candle was half melted and dead. I turned my sight to the window, finding only the night-blackened village and even closer than that, the reflection of me. I felt around my pants, unable to locate the pivotal item, so off of the bed I dropped. I creaked over to the door, slowly pushing it ajar and moving with feather-like steps down the stairs. As I arrived at the level floor of the main area, I glanced at the door for it, only to locate disappointment once again. I moved with carefully synchronized steps through the doors until I arrived in a room with a small table to my right. On the opposing side of the room, there was a cupboard and container set upon the wooden counter. It had a small slit in it, but nothing more. I turned back to the table, finding a large knife resting beckoningly upon it. My hand reached for it, grabbing it from the bladed end, but setting it back after I discovered it had caused my hand to bleed. I grabbed it again, but at the much smoother metal handle and left the dining area, back to the main lounging room.
In this lounging room, I caught a glance of the great white moon trying eagerly to pierce through the curtain as I walked back to the stairs. Then my eyes lit up before I turned the corner, and instead I paced back. I stared at the curtain and looked atop it. I maneuvered to it slowly, lightly bumping into furniture here and there. Since I could not reach its top, I stabbed into the fabric with the large blade and cut through it until moonlight enlightened the dark area. Now with improved vision, I slowly picked off all of the unnecessary props and candles and set them aside along with the knife before crawling upon it. I reached for the metal rod up above, lifting it off of some metal hooks nailed into the wall and bringing it down with me as I carefully got off the desk. I held the long bar in one hand and picked up the blade with the other before returning to and up the stairs. I stopped at the top, turning back to check the width of the hall and length of the golden curtain’s hanger rod by turning it horizontally, gleefully grinning when it wasn’t able to fully rotate. I set it to the side lightly and turned to Friede’s room, and ever-so slowly pulled open her door, finding her resting soundly in her bed.
I then slowly pulled the door close, holding the knob tightly so that it did not make so little a click upon fully closing. I then grabbed the knife and dug it into the thin walls, carving a vertical line on one side down to about the height of my abdomen. I then turned to the opposite side, performing the same act. And finally, I grabbed the bar and turned it, forced one end into the groove, used a bit of force to bring it down a bit, and repeated the action on the other end. Now, it was time. I took the blade to her room, once more slowly opening the door and stepping inside. I inched over to her side of the bed and stopped by her face. I raised the knife slowly over her, catching a glimpse of a portrait step on a small table in the corner of my eye. There were three faces in it, one of her, a blond man and some brown haired boy a bit younger than my age at the time. All three of them wore white clothes with great warmth in their grins. Except there was one, small difference between the boy, the man and Friede. Both of the males were slightly faded and above their heads were halos. Ingrained within a metal section of the painting’s matting were the words, “Live on, Henry & James.”
I watched it for a long while, slowly realizing its meaning until I began to weep silently. My arm dropped, losing grip of the knife, allowing it to clang on the floor.
Friede awoke groggy, rubbing her was. “Is that the bellman? I better go wake up James…” she mumbled in incoherent, tiresome verbiage.
Her heavy eyes turned me, with expected surprise in her eyes. “Jame– Lorenzo? Couldn’t sleep? That’s fine, we’re going to get some dinner soon anyways.”
My pupils were set on her and I felt my eyes lock onto her intently with a shaky glare. She brought her forearm up to her eyes and rubbed them again. Then, upon lowering her arm, turned horrified as the silvering blade sliced down onto her throat. She shoved me away, tearing the blade out and dropped it as she made her scurrying attempt to the door. I snatched the blade from the floor and lunged at her, getting another slash at her throat. She kicked me away and pointed at me, bringing about her Plasma magic circle, but after a brief stare, she closed it and instead fled through the door. Instead of chasing after her, I simply laid back on the hard wooden floor, waiting. And very soon, I heard the yelp and numerous thuds and bumps of something tumbling down the stairs. With my back flat against the ground and me facing the ceiling, I could not stop my body from falling into a fit of incessant chuckling. I clenched my teeth and pinched myself a desperate effort to stop these terrible chortles from bringing themselves about, but I failed. Instead, I fell into a bewildering mix of bawling and guffawing alone in this dark room. After what felt like hours of this terrible concoction of emotions, I got up and went to see what I had done. I walked out of Friede’s room, avoiding the trail of red. I stopped before the stairs, finding the bar in the wall had been ripped out and splattering on the walls all the way down the stairs.
I descended them slowly, now only choking up instead of cackling. Alas, I made it to the corpse splayed on the ground. I fell to my knees and just took the body in my sights. Her right leg had been twisted backwards, her inner wrist exposed, and her neck snapped back. I laid my head on her chest and just fell into a furious mess of tearful squalls, sickened by my actions. A knock on the window slowed my wailing. I turned to it, seeing that same orange-mouthed, inhuman face. “The head is still on its shoulders,” it said.
I grabbed the curtain rod and hurled it at the window in rage, shattering the glass and creating a tumultuous crash in the night. I was furious at first, until I realized where I was. My brain stormed and chest thumped madly as it attempted to restrain my heart from blowing out, and I ultimately grabbed the knife. I took it to her neck and hesitated for a moment before bringing the blade down to finalize my terrible act. “I’m sorry, Ms. Friede, I’m sorry, Ms. Friede, I’m sorry, Ms. Friede…” I uttered feverishly as I slashed the blade through, “For the Dream, it’s for the Penumbra Dream, for the Dream, Father says it’s for the Penumbra Dream…”
Soon, the gruesome deed was done. With danger at any second, I picked up Friede’s… I picked up her head and slowly creaked open her door, checking for any danger. I heard a bell ringing and saw a horse rider shadowed by the night in the distance coming this way. So quickly, I deserted the scene and ran alongside the inner wall until locating an eroded area, taking that first one for my escape. Upon exiting, a tall dark figure stood before me. All it took was his voice for me to realize his identity. He said to me, “Well done, hunting child. Your pursuits have advanced yourself yet another step closer to evolution.”