Our Violent Ends - Printable Version

The invisible hold on him finally let go, and Captain dropped heavily into the hole he himself had just made. Cycles of survival instinct wrenched him back to his hooves despite the pain searing his nerves. It was still nothing compared to what he'd faced after he'd been tricked into eating that rock! Captain reassured himself.

First, he had to get out of this hole. Although his legs strained and complained in tugs of pain underneath him, he gritted his teeth and did it anyway, using the violet-black gems as footholds. "FACE ME!" he spat, repeating the demand for the nth time. "STOP HIDING AND COME OUT!"

Its rage continued to pulse through its system and like claws scrabbling for an enemy, the fungus lashed at their enemy with phantom hooks but their magic had been so weakened by Emuh. What would have come far easier to them before, it was now struggling to do. Frusteration seared at it as the rage continued to build. He was not submitting. They would make him submit.

They wanted the Consul to continue speaking, but the rat, terrified, turned and began to climb a tree instead, knowing that there was nothing, now, to stop the bull from charging its way. For a moment, there was silence.

There was no response, as usual, and no invisible force attacking him again either. Captain wondered if the Hive had finally admitted defeat. He snorted. Of course they would be too cowardly to ever show their face in front of him, if they even had a face. He thought back to the tree he'd gored that had set off the initial dispute. Yeah, maybe it didn't. Then how had it spoken out loud?

Captain grunted. His whole body was hurting and walking just made it worse. But now that he was victorious, he could begin the long laborious process of dragging himself somewhere to heal. He began to wander his way back out. Disoriented as he was from all that smashing and crashing around, it was hard to figure out which way was which. But whichever way he chose, he also left corrupted earth behind with each step. Just as a last in-your-face to that cowardly landlubber who'd tried to fight him.

And then he turned to leave. And in his wake he continued to soil their earth and the Chorus snapped. The voices that died, the parts of the network that withered to the corrupting of the ground beneath the bull's feet surged strength into the rest of this and they desired only to see this thing torn apart in its own malevolence, to teach it a lesson, to impart on it fear of messing with it and its home.

The force burst free and snatched for Captain again and dragging him back to the hole he'd made. There were many black crystals in there that he'd created. There were many sharp edges.

The magic made to shove him right into those crystals and hurt him, wound him, rip his flesh apart on them like teeth tearing into a kill.

Captain had not let his guard down just because it seemed like he was in the clear—cycles of living in Hydra had taught him better than that—but being on guard would do little to help him against an invisible enemy with magic that could not be resisted. It was a knavish move for them to try a sneak attack on him as he was leaving, which only fit with their previous pattern of cowardly behavior, but Captain could do nothing about it as he was lifted into the air once more and smashed against the jagged, corrupted stones of his own making.

The vicious edges tore through even Captain's tough hide, dark corrupted blood decorating the inky crystals. Bits of flesh flew through the air as more was torn free with every merciless impact until the buffalo resembled more like a painting of gore than a living animal. Still, Captain tried to struggle, lashing out at air with hooves and horns even as his movements rapidly weakened.

And now he had fallen into the doom of his own creation, struggling...struggling to fight an enemy he could not see. A creature he could not hope to destroy. And The Chorus realized their true power then, that not only were they difficult to discover in the first place, but if they were...how would one take them out, without knowing the true place of their stone? How would one ever hope to bring an end to them, when their mycelia reached far, burrowed deep, and was always hidden?

Even with this accursed corruption of his, he could not stand a chance. Yes, some of them had been destroyed and they could feel the corruption burning in them, but they were in a far better state then he currently was, where they could grow them back and he...could only do what their mercy allowed.

And oh, they reached to rip his mind apart with whatever they had, to delve in deep like a skewer and spear through the meat of his mind, but the magic failed them in a moment they desperately craved it to be at their side.

They sighed to themselves, but that was alright. Up in the trees, the Consul watched, and it could see him dying through their eyes. The rat blinked and leaned its head forward, feeling safe now that it was out of his reach. Its voice echoed through the clearing - "We are the CHORUS. Attack us and know NO MERCY. Defile us and be DESTROYED. Die, beast, and know our name in death."

Captain could feel the tempting call of his gemstone, promising safe oblivion, but he fought against it as hard as he could. He would not let himself be taken down so easily by someone who hid in the shadows like this. He was a survivor. He had survived the Trials. He had known nothing but dreams of violence and war in his last stay in the chrysalis, thanks to a yellow-bellied coward and manipulator of the same caliber. They wanted him to die? He would show THEM what was true violence, and have THEM begging for mercy by the end of it. A pirate never let go of a grudge so easily.

"You wish you could kill me," he wheezed, and turned blindly toward the direction of the taunts. Magic lashed out blindly and the earth cracked once more, but the tree that fell was not the Consul's perch but a different one in its path, and it came crashing down directly onto Captain's mangled body. The buffalo let out a strangled bellow.

A wish? A wish that they could kill him? They were going to let him bleed out and perhaps eventually be retaken by his gemstone, but no...if he was still fighting back, then they would end him here and now.

They commanded the Consul to approach - the tree was in the way now and they had lost visual contact. At first, the rat hesitated, but they assured its safety. If he made to harm them, they would be pulled out of the way in time.

So the Consul carefully climbed down and leaped onto the tree that was now over Captain. It leaned over where it knew him to be laying and quirked its head. "We can." Its eyes slid over its body until the Chorus commanded it to stop and, through that visual link, they found the insides of Captain that were now exposed through his wounds. And it reached for that and began to pull them out. Captain's intestines would spill out of his body through the ragged wounds created by his own black crystals and then, when it reached the end of their length, a quick jerk of the magic ripped them straight out, where the landed some feet away with a sickening splat.

It could feel nausea in the rat but they held it there to watch. They wanted to see him die.

The cowardly enemy finally showed itself, in the form of a Lesser rat. Fitting that it would be such a lowly, slinking creature in the end. Captain spat at it, limbs twitching. "You-" he began, before he cut off in a whimper. Before his eyes, his own intestines were pulled out from his body, squeezed through a gash that by any reasonable measure should not have been wide enough to let them out. His breaths came shallow and fast as the world blurred. Disturbingly, he could feel the air on his guts. It was too cold.

The pain of being torn free, when it came, was almost a relief. It scorched away all other thoughts as Captain convulsed, legs flailing. By all means, his body was damaged beyond repair, but he was not dead yet. Some stubborn part of him was still holding on, desperately trying to get the rat back for it, though at this point he had no idea where it was. His eyes were blurred and the colors were too bright and he was not really seeing through them anymore.

They were a little disappointed that the beast still lived. Tenacious, so much so that they almost found it in themselves to respect him. But as their focus had no shifted to killing rather then teaching, they would prefer if he gave in at this point.

The Consul was still nervous, but they held it there. A moment longer, dear Consul. He's almost dead. And then we will be safe. Their magic reached for the Captain once more and this time gripped it tight. Into his mind flowed visions of himself consumed by the Chorus's black mycelia. He would know, then, in his last moments, what it was that had been his end. Not Mother, not the white infection that had been driven from this place, but THE CHORUS. Black chords like roots grew over the span of his body, devouring flesh, blood, muscle, bone, everything that he was, the network devoured.

They wanted him to know FEAR. If not fear of them, then fear of MORTALITY. The visions hung death just out of his reach and made it AGONIZING. It is, after all, what he deserved for the VIOLENCE he had brought here. He was an enemy, and all enemies of the Chorus will be punished!