City of the Damned (Part Two)
#2 of City Of The Damned
Chapter II
-Matador-
Barka was the bull. His brown hide looked as if it was chizzled from stone. His massive arms carried two sinister looking maces; both stained with rotting gore. He stepped over the dieing hyena, looking down with a submissive snort. Slowly, with slightly more vigor he walked out from the rocks. He breathed deeply, his chest puffing out with every inhale. The large ring that adorned his nose flapped with every exhale. He was truly a beast, even amoung monsters. Talon's eyes widened slightly as he looked him over, his hand tight on his blade. If any eyes looked upon the two, they would not know if the grip was from fear... or determination. A small breeze gusted by, dust eddying away in small cyclones; only to crash harmlessly into the small jutting rocks that speckled the ground.
The silence was not long lasting. With a smile, the minotuar bellowed, his deep braying echoing ereely into the distance. He had been waiting for a challange. His massive white hoof scraped along the ground once as he set his cold gaze on Talon.
"I am Barka."
The hoof scraped again, slower. Another gust of wind whistled threw the rocks. Talon cracked his neck, stomping his own clawed foot on the ground. His voice seemed distant, as if he was deep in thought.
"Your name is not what interests me."
"Oh?" Barka sneered, before hardening his face. "...Then what does, dragon? You have no place here."
"I seek her." Talon's silver eyes glinted for the second time that night. Dawn was fast aproching. A faint sliver of light burned across the barrens, casting long shadows in the rocks. Talon flaired his wings with a peircing snap. "And I will find her." His tail inched over the ground as it found solace in the rocks. His tone dropped to a hiss as he narrowed his eyes to slits. "I dare you to try and stop me."
Without hesitation, Barka charged, his hooves grooving deep gashes in the ground. Talon flapped his wings, driving himself back as he braced for the impact. Yet... one did not come. Acting purely on instinct, Talon stomped. A jutting shard of rock exploded from under his feet, lifting him off the ground. As he rose he drew his blade, twisting it around his body with practiced control. The rock smashed out from under him suddenly as Barka's massive clubs pulverized it. Talon almost lost his balance before he jumped back, landing deftly on the ground; with only a click as his claws hit the rock. He had not long to react as the dust from the broken spire settled. Barka was charging, his jaw flecked with foam. Talon waited silently; his heart beating heavy with adreniline. He was almost in reach of the deadly maces when he leaped. A mace swung just under his tail as he nimbly stepped off his foes head, twisting in the air to sever it from the massive beast below. However, he misjudged Barka's own speed. As he twisted in the air, he only had time to lean back as a mace scratched his chest. He countered with a swing upwards, only to have his hand smote; smashing his blade from him.
Talon kept his distance, circleing the bull with caution; his scales scraping across one another slowly. Again the bull dug into the ground with his hoof. Talon stopped moving, his eyes intent on the bull's movements. Another scrape. He inhaled slowly, knowing that while he stood still, he was an open target. Although, he showed no fear. He seemed almost...Too calm. Like he knew how it was going to end, before the minotuar moved. A small bead of sweat was the only indication of his doubt. Barka smirked, mockingly.
"I'm sure Lillith will love my new trophy...A shame it will be so broken."
He gave his hoof a final scrape, drawing out the sound with sadistic pleasure. His septum ring flapped as he snorted and clanged his maces together with a thick, dull ring. With a smile, he charged.
Talon waited again, the bead of sweat dripping from his maw. The ground shook slightly; an almost unoticeable amount to most beings. But Talon was attuned. He had spent his energy on focusing, instead of talking. As the minotuar came closer, he bent his legs slightly; his tail coiling on the ground tight. Within moments, the bull was upon him, his massive maces swinging down for the kill. Talon saw his opening, and struck. He jumped forward, just barely avoiding a hoof. Before the massive beast could turn to swing his weapon, Talon had found his back. He jumped up onto the bull's shoulder, gripping his horns in his scaled fists. Barka fell forward with the new weight, crashing to the ground. Dropping his maces he grabbed Talon's leg, and pulled.
Even for a Bull, Barka was strong. He had been able to survive with pure brute force when the time called. But Talon had read that. He had taken his time to analize his foe. Taken time to draw his prey in. And as he had always strived for, he was prepared. As Barka pulled, Talon had locked his arms onto the bull's head. And although his arms might be as strong as steel...
His neck was not. He pulled hard, but the pain in his neck stayed his hand. Dropping to his knees he did what he did best. His furred grip was tight on one of his maces as he bucked his head forward. Talon locked his legs onto the bull's back, refusing to give him any leverage. His tail coiled around his foe's neck, helping him move to avoid the mace that was now smashing around him blindly. Letting go of a horn he rose his clawed hand in a tight fist; smashing it into the base of his foe's neck. Barka roared, clawing at his neck. The mace fell to the ground as he franticly grabbed at the dragon on his back, dizzy from the lack of air, and the sharp strikes that had begun to slam into his neck and skull. He attepted to stand, before crashing to the ground with a gurgle.
Talon stood slowly, breathing heavyly. He cracked his neck again, as his tail coiled about the hilt of his blade. He grabbed it, and shealthed it with a duo of mettalic clicks. Turning, he saw what looked like a war-hammer a foot from his head. Before he could react...
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Blackness. The world was swallowed into hellish nightmares, drifting shapes, and pain. He did not scream... Although the pain was great. In the thick blanket of shadows and light, he saw only bursts. Beaten once...a hundred times... He had lost count, if not his sanity. Black twisted
demons, cold, unforgiving chains. And virulent, infecting black nothingness.
...But there was light.
...And with light, was salvation.
(Chapter 3)[
http://sofurry.com/page/129381/tab/Stories](%5C)
Enjoy, and be sure to comment. I enjoy construstive criticism, For we all have room to improve!
-Talon Lightbringer