delicate [druig]

two

Druig arrived at a village in the Alps, searching for shelter and food before he embarked on a journey to climb up the mountains where the Deviant supposedly resided.

The air was cold, something about it felt eerie, causing goosebumps to form on his pale arms, even with the large black robe he wore as he entered the large wooden gates that allowed entry to the village.

He was looking for the beast for five years, traveling all across the globe for answers and information about the Deviant.

He was so blood-thirsty for revenge.

His Mara needed to be avenged and the disgusting creature that killed her needed to die. The only way that Druig could be at peace with himself, with his decisions, was by murdering it. 

He wanted the Deviant to suffer as much as he did when he first heard Mara's screams being sliced through the air. 

His heart weakening at the shrill sound.

He wanted it to feel the same pain he did when he heard the last scream of his love before the world went silent.  

Her screams still haunt him through his dreams. Any time he slept, he would dream of her. Dream of the last time he caught a glimpse of her, blood pouring out of her body. 

Shivering, Druig looked around and scanned the shops made of wood that lined the street. He was surprised to see how modern they were, considering that the village was in the middle of nowhere.

The buildings and houses were lined at the base of the mountain and the people all buzzed happily amongst themselves, smiles plastered all around, causing a frown to form on his face.

Druig didn't remember the last time he smiled or was happy. It was probably with Mara.

He actually envied these people. These innocent, innocent people. None of them understood what he had gone through. None of them knew the horrors of the world. 

Druig could so easily show them with his power. He was so close to doing it until the flashback of his promise to Mara played in his head.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked around trying to locate a person that looked like they would tell him information.

His blue eyes found an older, wise-looking man with a long white beard who was sitting behind a cookie stand.

The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted in the air like a warm beckoning. 

Druig strode over to the man who looked up at him and offered a gentle smile, which Druig didn't return. He had quickly learned that kindness didn't get him anywhere in this modern world. He needed to be firm and do whatever it took to get what he wanted. 

"I haven't seen you around before. We are selling our famous oatmeal cookies if you'd like to buy some," the man said in German as he offered yet another smile which made Druig sick to the stomach. He didn't care about this man's stupid cookies. How could these people be so naive?

"I need some information," the dark-haired man replied, causing the old man to quirk an eyebrow with confusion.

"What about?"

"I heard that there is a beast here. A beast that has been wreaking havoc over this town," Druig stated.

The old man's face paled.

"That beast is a monster and I wouldn't go anywhere near it. It will kill you with no remorse. It took my granddaughter a few months ago and almost killed my daughter," the old man's eyes swam with tears.