Dystopia: Unchained Fate

Chapter Three: Golden Hunter

Drip... Drop...

Drip... Drop...

Drip... Drop...

The sounds of his conscience sealed deep within his mind continue to flash the memories he achingly wanted to forget. Heart beating against his ribs as he panted from his kill. He flicked his arm drench from a fluid that he hated the most. Yet no matter how he wanted to be disgusted in this fluid in a hue of apples, he can't deny the fact that his body boils in anticipation by just looking at it dripping in his hand. He never know what this fluid is but he knows that this same fluid flows in his body as well.

And he just found it when he was once camping out in the edge of the forest that a furry beast came attacking him. Caught off guard for he was exhausted from his last mission. The teeth of that wrenched beast sank in his shoulder by its powerful jaws. Making him flinched from the pain as he forcedly pulled himself out from its mouth, tearing chunks of his flesh in the process. And because of that incident he also found out one more things about his body. As soon as his shoulder bleeds, is as soon as his own blood retreats going back from his wound as the flesh closes his cut in just a blink of an eye. It shocked him of course because aside from he never knew about this skill. He never met anyone who can do the same.

Well except for that one man who accompanied him in one of his travels heading to the southern land Elsiah. He held a staff with him and a bag of garbage. Well that's what he prefer to calls them. But it seems that that garbage help him performing the same skill he had, though it took days to heal it completely.

Disrupted in his train of thoughts he felt a movement of his kill sprawled on the ground, blood pooling around him. Wearing a stoic face he moved forward his feet making a faint sound and slosh when he stepped on the thick warm fluid around his kill. Bending forward he reached for the head of his kill raising him one handily in his eye-level.

"W-who... send... send..."

Angling his head to the side he look at his kill with those golden slits of his as a smile creep in his lips sending chills to his kill. And with one force he clenched his hand smashing the skull of his kill while the body dropped like a rag doll. Looking at the right where a figure lingering in his peripheral vision. He saw how the woman shake in front of his presence. Feeling nothing but that emptiness he look up to the sky to see a redden moon. Ever since his escape, that moon remained unchanged but the feeling of darkness it gave him continue to dwell in the depths of his very core. Looking back at the scared woman, body unscathed he walked towards her. Every step he make advancing the woman would eventually flinch as her body trembles more, if that was even possible but right in this moment impossibility is right in front of her.

"Please..." she said in between her sobs. "Please don't kill me..." she added.

Still advancing to her. He felt nostalgic to that phrase. The same phrase his mouth once said in front of that race. The race that abandoned him and blames him to a crime he doesn't even know. Feeling his hatred boils in the pit of his stomach his left hand twitch in anticipation for the thought in his mind.

Kill... Kill her... She doesn't have the right to say those words when you are not bestowed such mercy... Kill her...

Like a plague, his inside keep on chanting him those words. His left hand twitched again as his eyes glows brighter just like in that time of his very first kill. In swift movement his twitching hand reached for her neck crushing her throat as blood gurgles in her mouth. Lust still unquenchable he ripped her throat out as blood splatter in the nearby tree. He watched her body trembles once more before the shine in her eyes lost its fear reflected on them as life slips away.

He is a killer.

Ever since that time. The time where he put an end of his very own race leaving the young ones alone to rot. He became a demon. A beast that lust upon the life of others. Consuming them for his satisfaction as a filler of his lost strength, despite of having unlimited supply. He hated it. He hated them. He hated those. He hated everything. He even hated himself. And since he felt like that. What's the purpose of keeping them? Things will be a lot easier if he eliminate them as he awaits the time to be eliminated as well.