(story.NoHeros) Prologue
#1 of No Heros
(THIS IS NON-CANON. This is an alternate world where I can just kinda mess around. None of what happens in No Heros actually happens to Kerl. Just lettin ya know!)
So, yeah! Just kinda wanted to start up a new thing. I might get some others in on this, so let me know if you want in!
Where is this going? You'll find out. And you might just enjoy it.
pssst! hey, you! yeah, you! i need a thumbnail for this! just send me a note if you wanna do one and I'll give you the details! I'm a little bit broke, though, so you'll have to work for free, but it would still mean a lot!
THUD! A body flew through the air, limbs being dragged in the air, and slammed against one of the numerous steel poles that kept the unfinished building's higher levels from crashing down. It was five stories up.
The figure fell onto the concrete floor, groaning in agony as he layed on his slim stomach. He was a black wolf, with a red stripe traveling down his back and onto his tail's end. A dash of the same color marked his right arm and tipped his left ear. Blood matched the hue as it tainted the white t-shirt he donned, blurring the text on the front, if you were able to see it, from "Got Mane?" to illegible fuzz.
He opened his golden eyes and tried to push himself up on his feet, or at least his knees.
He was unable to, as a heavy arm, the claws quickly shining with the neon lights of the city, bashed against him, sending him soaring once again to a metal pole. But this time his arm crashed against it, splitting the bones that made his arm, as he continued to fly forward, spinning through the air until he slid to a halt just a few feet from the edge. A tear fell from one of the canine's eyes; the one with a slice of green near the bottom of the iris.
He didn't even try to move. He knew he couldn't get away. He could only pray that someone would save him.
The sound of cracking knuckles entered the air. A paw forcefully turned the wolf over onto his back, causing torturous pain to shoot through his veins, and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him up. The lupine tried to get as much air as possible while being held up, his intact arm grasping the deadly paw that suffocated him.
"Stupid little mutt," the jet black werewolf muttered in a low, rasping voice, or what some would say to be "normal". The victim saw the lycan's face as torn, scarred, and definitely pissed. "You thought you and your little pea shooter could stop revenge? The most powerful and desired outcome when anything goes wrong?" The werewolf scoffed. He gripped the wolf's broken arm, crushed it, breaking it further and making the wolf howl in pain, and ripped it clean off. "This," the lycan held up the dismembered arm, "is what anger does." He threw the limb off to the side. "Now go to HELL!"
The wolf was thrown off the edge of the building. The air slid past his dark fur as he descended to his death. Thud.