"Would they be bothered to let us have a normal week under the sun?"
Mal'kriss turned to look at his lifelong friend and fellow guard member, Sidaria. Sidaria, a female of light brown complexion, sat in front of a window overlooking the western side of the Queendom.
Mal'kriss understood what she was talking about, even from his position well away from the window. He reached over across the table he sat down at, snagging a piece of goat cheese and putting it in his mouth.
"I understand your plight, Sidaria, but the Matriarch and her council know what they are doing. Have they not shown their intelligence to us before?" He asked.
Ever since the High Council of magic had begun their actions and nightly routines, Sidaria had become erratic and almost paranoid.
While it was true that the strange lights and sheathed phenomena dissuaded him from thinking it was normal, he felt assured that those in power had a handle on everything.
"No. The lights don't mean anything. There have been whispers. Strange things are happening all over." Seethed Sidaria. Mal'kriss hissed lightly but fell silent.
He watched as his friend bent over, exhaling heavily and then leaning against the frame of the window.
"A bandit village was brutally destroyed. There were no remains besides the bandits. Reports of thunderous noises were heard as it went up in flames." Said Sidaria. Mal'kriss continued to look at his friend.
"On our patrol outside of the wall yesterday, we found a deer that had been killed and cleaned like if a butcher did it deep in the forests." She said. Mal'kriss huffed in annoyance.
"So? A Thrask gets lucky and has a solid meal for a few days and you call it weird?" Jeered the Thrask. Sidaria hissed.
"The carcass was hanging twenty units above the ground from a tree branch! No Thrask alive could hoist the deer that high! It was cleaned in the tree! The organs splattered everywhere as if dropped from the height!" Mal'kriss did not respond at his friends outburst.
Such news was new and strange, and it served to unnerve the Thrask who had seen quite a lot in his time.
"One of the local prostitutes went missing last night. They found her today, drained of her blood." Said Sidaria. Mal'kriss stood up and walked over to the window to stand by the window with his friend. Placing a hand in the small of her back, he hoped it would comfort her.
The strange, wispy green lights hung over the city. Today, the swirling vortex of lightning was replaced by an ominous orange ring of fire. Mal'kriss looked down to see that Sidaria was scanning the range outside of the walls.
"There is something in those trees. Something dangerous." She said. Mal'kriss heard something cut into the wooden frame and looked down to see that the female's claws had sunk into the board lightly.
"Captain Krestus did not return from his 'patrol' outside the gates." Muttered Sidaria. Mal'kriss felt his ears shoot forwards.
"It is not out of the ordinary for him. I do not enjoy his brutal ways, but..." She didn't finish the sentence. Mal'kriss understood. Krestus was a twisted individual, deriving pleasure from pain he inflicted upon others.
As head punisher for the Queendom, Krestus became drunk with power and relished the act. Mal'kriss had had his fair share of negative interaction with the captain and made it a point to just stay away from the Thrask.
"Perhaps it would be best if whatever it was out there got to him."
XXX
When Mal'kriss awoke, he realized that it was early in the morning, enough so that the sun was creeping through the window. Stretching his arms lightly, he bumped into the rousing figure of Sidaria.
"Mmm..." Sidaria also stretched her arms and mewled as her muscles loosened. "Let us see what new encounters this day will bring us." Her sentence ended in dissatisfaction, as Mal'kriss could tell that she did not enjoy having to theorize conspiracies.
"Whatever it will be, we shall face it together." Said Mal'kriss as he climbed out of the bed. They took the time to don their armor and equipment, sword and bow, before they were off to walk through the heart of the Queendom.
The city itself was the same city they had lived in for their whole lives. Citizens scurried to and fro. Shops called out for potential customers. Carts moved all around the city carrying people and goods to their destinations. All was normal save for when they arrived to the guard barracks, which was in complete disarray.
"Captain Krestus did not return this morning!" Exclaimed someone. Mal'kriss and Sidaria shared a look between them, worry apparent.
"Mal'kriss! Sidaria! Thank Chirae you both are here! Krestus has left us without sharp claws once more!" Said a female. It was the junior captain of their district and Mal'kriss hissed lightly.
"That cur is only where he is because of his family. How could the Queen allow her mongrel nephew to hold such a position?" Seethed Sidaria. Mal'kriss and the junior captain began to agree, but a piercing shriek from the entrance took importance.
"Demons! Demons! There are demons in the woods!" Shrieked a voice.
Sidaria and Mal'kriss shared another look of 'Wow, maybe we actually were on to something' right before they turned. It was another one of the local prostitutes. He was hysterically hyperventilating as he frantically waved his hands in the entrance of the district guard building.
Both Sidaria and Mal'kriss would have told him off, even Sidaria with her conspiracy theories, if it wasn't for the fact that he was covered entirely in a lot of dried blood.
"Hold! Calm yourself, harlot. What happened?" Asked Mal'kriss. He approached the raggedy prostitute calmly, hesitant to touch him. The bloody Thrask vocalized a cry of despair as tears began to fill his eyes.
"I was...I was with Captain Krestus last night beyond the gates. We were beneath a tree and he forced himself upon me." Explained the Thrask. Mal'kriss sighed as he looked to Sidaria, and she looked back with a amicable expression.
The prostitute Thrask calmed himself slightly, enough to where he could speak calmly albeit shakily.
"He was on me for a few minutes and then he paused because something smelt like a smoky fire." Explained the Thrask. Mal'kriss felt the fur on his body stand up slightly.
"It cut the captains throat open and it drained all over me. Whatever it was held his body there as the blood poured on me." The Thrask broke down once more, putting his hands up to his eyes.
When he composed himself once more, he began to speak again.
"It was tall, and hideous. It had a flat face with blue eyes and amber colored hair. It wore clothing all over its body and it was shaven. It was furless except for some hair under a piece it wore on its head." Babbles the prostitute.
Sidaria shushed him and the Thrask blew his nose into his hand and then wiped it on his trouser rags.
"It...it looked at me with those blue eyes and then it bared its fangs at me. How horrible! Teeth white as bone. I see the demons face when I close my eyes. I ran and hid until the sun came up!" Cried the Thrask. Mal'kriss shushed the hysterical male and Sidaria bent down, sniffing him lightly.
"He does smell of Krestus. Mal'kriss, a conversation?" Asked Sidaria. Mal'kriss agreed and the junior captain came from behind her desk to take over.
Once they were away from the others and out of ear shot, the conversation began.
"I think he speaks the truth. The whore: He is far too small and weak to overpower Krestus. The blood smells like Krestus. Overpoweringly so." Leveled Sidaria. Mal'kriss could only agree, given the relevant information.
"I agree. Someone or something is out there, but the demon part? What do you think?" Asked Mal'kriss. Sidaria scratched lightly at her chin and then licked her wrist a few times, grooming the fur.
"I do not see why the whore would lie about someone saving him. Surely, if his savior was trying to kill him as well, it would have done so. If it could take Krestus by surprise..." Sidaria trailed off, reminding both of them that, while Captain Krestus got his position from nepotism, he was certainly not a pushover by any means.
Krestus was admirable in his position as a guard and was very good at what he did. He was a skilled warrior and proud, boasting confidence that rivaled the gods. Nothing could scare him because nothing out there had been able to challenge him.
But it seemed that he finally met his fate at the hands of something truly dreadful.
"There is no motive to lie, but let us deliberate. There is too much coincidence. We must scout the surroundings." Declared Sidaria. Mal'kriss agreed and began to make the preparations.
XXX
"This is it! By Chirae and her pantheon! The amount of blood!" Exclaimed another guardsmen. Mal'kriss and Sidaria, backed up by ten other guards of various equipment and the prostitute as a guide, had arrived at the scene of the killing.
The prostitute was not lying. The area smelt faintly of a smoky fire and the blood was Krestus'.
"Wait...where is his body? If whatever it was that killed him was hungry, why would he not be consumed here?" Asked another guard. Sidaria hushed him and looked around, as did Mal'kriss.
"We must save the theories. Look for a blood trail. We need to expend all options before we report ourselves to the Queen." Ordered Mal'kriss.
It was not long at all before one of the guards spotted small speckles of blood leading directly in to the forest.
"Everyone! This way!" He said. The gaggle continued on the path, following the droplets into the woods far enough that they could no longer see the Queendom through the trees.
Many minutes passed as they went deeper in the woods, with the cool forest floor keeping them from getting too hot. The prostitute whimpered with fear as the area darkened, with an eerie ambience taking over as the blood trail ended.
Mal'kriss made sure to stay next to the prostitutes side, and ordered a few of his subordinates to remain close by as well. Sidaria took the others and they spread out, remaining within ear shot and vision of each other.
As he stood and looked around with a protective grip on the prostitute, Mal'kriss began to think.
"A body has a lot of blood...but there is already so much on the whore here and the ground back there. Surely, the path could not have continued this long." Mal'kriss felt time dilate, realizing that whatever killed Krestus had led them on a deliberate trail.
Looking around, Mal'kriss tried to hyperfocus his senses on anything that would not fit in a forest. He looked around the ground, to the trees themselves, through the trees to the surrounding areas, and then up into the tall heights themselves.
And that was when he saw it in a tree.
It was a mass of red musculature hanging by its feet from a taught piece of rope. Mal'kriss focused on it, his feline eyesight enhancing the scene in a level detail that would haunt him.
It was Krestus. Without his skin.
"G-gods above!" He shouted.
He knew it was Krestus because his head had been untouched. He could recognize the face and fur pattern of the captain. His hands and feet still had their fur, and his tail remained with all of its fluff.
But for the rest of him...
His muscles were a dark red, a telltale sign of usage over the years. His arms stretched out and reached for the ground. His meat, still covered in most parts by the fatty tissue which allowed the skin to adhere to the body, almost glistened in the little parts of the sun which broke through the forest top.
Mal'kriss heard Sidaria and the others run up to reinforce them. He heard her ask what was wrong and then she noticed the body. He heard the prostitute begin to cry and bury his face into his shoulder armor.
He would have normally been a beacon of strength for the group. But not this time. His fur stood on end, higher than the walls that protected them from the outside world.
"It...it...oh my gods." Gasped one of the guards.
Mal'kriss wanted to tear his eyes away from the sight, but no matter how much he thought about it, he could not do it.
His eyes focused harder and he noticed that a piece of material resembling parchment had been shoved into Krestus' mouth.
He heard someone vomit their morning meal behind him and that was when he blinked and could move.
He felt his legs weaken as he turned and he stumbled on his hands and knees. The grisly sight was fresh on his mind and he gripped the rags of the prostitute.
"We must go. We have to leave now. Forget the body. It's too high." Said Mal'kriss, shakily. He stood up wearily and grabbed the prostitute by the hand. He moved to Sidaria and draped an arm over her shoulder, his armor clinking as it made contact with hers.
"Come! Everyone! This is the action of demons! Hellspawn walk among the lands! We are not ready! We must warn the Dynasty!" He exclaimed. He began to move but Sidaria howled.
"His mouth! The parchment!" She urged. Mal'kriss groaned and turned around to look upon the sight once more. Flicking a hand up, an orange glow enveloped his hand and then the material in the captains mouth.
It dislodged itself with the assist once of the magic and darted right into his open hand. And with a nauseous feeling beginning to bubble in his stomach, they all took off running.
As they ran, Mal'kriss unfolded the material, which was indeed a piece of parchment, and noted that a crude handwriting was inscribed in ink. He steadied his pace so that he could read it while still moving.
"Those who force themselves upon others lose their skin. Tell the harlot to mind himself." Mal'kriss noted how strange it was that a demon would be so...insightful for the safety of others.
But that thought was pushed aside when he noticed the symbol inked below the statement. It looked much like a four way intersection, an X, with jutting roads going in different directions at the ends.
Mal'kriss was not certain what devilry the symbol represented, but he felt an impending sense of doom fall upon him.
XXX
For all you bloodthirsty readers, y'all might come to realize I'm inching closer and closer to instructing you all on how to flay something, I guess.
Jokes aside, I am taking into consideration both what I want to write and what you all want to read. I've had plenty of messages requesting certain ideas and scenes, and there are actually quite a lot of them that could feasibly fit. With that being said, I make no promises.
Expect some more viscera. Expect some more lovin' to happen in some scenes. Expect more strange homoerotic encounters which I think are funny.
And best of all, expect Dietrich.