Solo [Job] What makes a killer

Logan must protect his client.

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[Job] What makes a killer

Postby Logan Storm on March 5th, 2015, 3:00 pm

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30th of Spring 515 AV


What makes a killer a killer?
Is a killer a killer from the life they take?
Is a killer picked from the death that lie in their wake?
Doth a savage become a savage when they must?
Are they still a savage if they do what is just?
Am I a killer when I smash a bug or chop a tree?
Or am I one when I kill a human being?
Does a killer enjoy killing, or do so so their life doth not fade?
Is a killer born, or is a killer made?

Logan opened his eyes and breathed in deeply, waking violently from his sleep. The moment he took in a breath he cringed. It hurt to inhale, and if he did so largely then he would feel horrible pain. He touched the spot that gave him the discomfort from just breathing. To his surprise it was his side stomach. He could feel something wet when he touched that one spot. Logan looked at the liquid to which he gathered from his body and realized that it held the color red.

His vision was blurry. He looked around where he was and thought he could see something lay on the ground in front of him, motionless, but he did not know what. He knew that it was grey though, and surrounded by red liquid. He sat down next to a tree, its lower half kept him perched up.

Logan picked himself up, getting on all fours at first. He staggered to his feet then fell when leaned particularly on his right leg. Logan wasn't just in pain in his stomach, he was also in pain in his leg. He moved back to the tree to lean against it. Logan was probably bleeding out at the moment. He was actually very surprised that he had been kept alive for this long.

He tore off his shirt and wrapped it over his side stomach, applying pressure to the wound. He then tore off a part of his pants sleeve from his left leg and wrapped the cloth around his right leg, once again applying pressure to the wound.

Logan noticed that the sky was dark. The moon hung over Logan's head, a little too bright for Logan to stare at at the moment. His vision was coming back slowly, but his head was still spinning. Did he just suffer a head wound? Was his head bleeding as well? He checked the back of his head to make sure but only found a large knot. So he didn't suffer any horrible brain damage. That was good, but his situation wasn't.

He looked towards the big grey thing laying in front of him again. He leaned in to see it a little more clearly, very curious to what it was. His vision was returning to the natural way it was. Pretty soon he would see the image for what it is and solve his many questions.

He stared. He could now see that the grey was a bunch of fur. Maybe a type of clothing? It was very large, maybe a fur coat meant to stay warm during the cold? That would be nice for him for it will give him more clothing to use to stop the bleeding. Logan stared and leaned in a little closer. And as his vision finally came back, he jumped from where he was and let out a yell. He quickly backed away from what he now saw clearly, horrified from its sight. He found himself suddenly stopping on the tree he was once laying on. He was shaking on the ground, probably due to the loss of blood. Or probably due to what he was staring at, a large mass of a soulless wolf body.
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[Job] What makes a killer

Postby Logan Storm on April 11th, 2015, 5:32 am

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A wolf doesn't hunt alone if it wants big prey. That's what his father told him. A lone wolf could pick off the small prey, defend what little territory it had, and survive enough for maybe a full season before starving, or worse. However, a lone wolf is never as safe as when it is when it is with a family. A wolf pack could hunt larger prey, gain larger land, and survive for as long as its lifespan allowed.

Logan's father told him this all the time. The reason was always to remind him of the importance of being with someone, of having a friend or family looking after him. In Nyka, his father would force him to have friends, start a pack and survive with them. Never be a lone wolf, his father would say. Never be alone.

Sorry dad. In the end I became a lone wolf.

Logan stood in an alley, his back leaned against the nearest wall. He was staring at two people across from him. A male, whose build was skinny, had blonde hair, and carried a sword on the back of his back, and a female, who also had blonde hair, carried a sword and throwing daggers, but had a build of a muscleman. They could look like identical twins if one wasn't a stick and the other a rock.They were leaning against the other wall that made the alleyway an alleyway. They stood very close together, so that meant they were partners.

"So, you work as a bodyguard too, eh?" The male asked.

"Yeah," Logan answered and watched the male nod. He could tell that the male wanted there to be a conversation and not just odd silence filled with threatening stares. However, how could Logan possibly strike a conversation with the male while the woman silently mean mugged him the entire time? It irritated him the way she stared, sizing him up to see if she could handle him.

"Like what you see?" He said to her with his eyebrows raised. She looked him over again then made a hmph sound. "I don't see much," she responded.

"What a shame," Logan said in a bland voice that suggested he did not mean his words. The girl stepped up to Logan, and he pushed himself off the wall to meet her. She was taller than him. She had blue eyes that stared down Logan's brown ones. Logan wasn't the type to shy away from a stare down, so he looked at her the same, eyes deadlocked on each other. If anyone was going to do the intimidating, it would be him.

"Do we have a problem, She-Akalak?" Logan said.

"I think-" the girl was beginning to say but was stopped by a sudden large whistle tone. Both Logan and the woman turned their heads in the same direction to now stare upon a man in a brown freebooter privateer hat. He held in his left hand a cane. It kept him up as he leaned on it. The mans face was clean shaven and his eyes where surprisingly red. When Logan looked at him, he was reminded of a feline predator scoping out his prey silently.

"I see that we are all getting along well," he said, wobbling forward with his cane. With every step he took there was a thumping sound of metal crashing against rocky ground.

"Why is he here?" The male twin said from behind Logan. For a moment Logan forgot about him. He was so focused on the male's sister that he did not realized the subtle sound of a sword being unsheathed from the distance. The male stood now besides his sister, his sword being swiftly placed back into his sheath.

Logan stayed silent, realizing it pointless to give sarcasm in a two on one situation. The man with the cane said, "Because I need him just as much as I need you."

He took a pause to catch a good look at each person. The next words he said were divided to each individual. First, the male. "Brice," he said to the scrawny guy, placing in those words a sense of pride and accomplishment. He then turned to the woman. "Stella." He then look at them both. "You each are successful mercenaries. And, by the look of your strength, more than enough to do what is needed to protect me. However, this job requires more than just protecting me."

He looked away from them and to Logan. With the same sense of pride he said, "Logan. You are a well established bodyguard, and from the look of you, a very trustworthy man. I need you just as much as them to protect me."

"From what?" Logan asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Wolves," the man said, and for a moment there was a pause. It was Stella who broke the silence, addressing the man in front of them. "Mr. Byron... You mean to tell me that we must defend you from a wo-"

"You won't be defending me," Byron interjected. "You will be killing the wolves." He gestured to Logan who was still looking at this man as though he was psychotic. Logan was barely listening to them. His mind was circulating facts that he knew about wolves. Their hunting habit, their fighting formations, the way they attacked; he thought of it all. He only snapped back to consciousness when Byron pointed towards him. "He will be protecting me," Byron continued. "He doesn't kill, so his job will be to stay near me at all time."

"It'll be my pleasure," Logan sarcastically said. Byron smiled at him and said, "I know."

"Now come!" This time Byron called to all three of them. He turned from them and began walking away, the sounds of his cane nearly drowning out his voice. "We have one more person to meet. A hunter named Hunter."
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[Job] What makes a killer

Postby Logan Storm on June 1st, 2015, 5:58 am

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There was a backpack laying on the ground near Logan's feet. It contained blood on the underside of it- blood that wasn't Logan's. Logan thought about whose it could be. The bitch's? The sister's? Maybe it was his client's? The latter would put a really crummy mood on Logan's already horrible day.

Logan sat on a log and shuffled through the bags contents. There were most natural things that his backpack would have inside; brush, tooth paste, tooth brush, flint and steel. However, where his backpack would contain a flask, this backpack contains a medical kit.

Out of excitement Logan threw the bag away and opened the medical kit. There was bandage wraps and alcohol inside to clean his wound. He moved towards the alcohol first and poured it on his cuts. When the liquid ran down his leg and side Logan made a blood curdling scream. "Oh Alcohol, why must you hurt like a bitch!" Logan said to match his shrieks.

He allowed his wounds to seethe for a little while then wrapped himself up with the bandages in the kit. His wounds weren't completely healed, and if he could stay in one place and heal them he would, but his client was out in the wilderness all alone. He needed to get up, man through the horrible petching pain, and go save his useless client's arse. Maybe kick his client in the arse while he is at it; very hard too.

As he stood up and leveled himself with a nearby tree, Logan heard a low threatening growl. There was only one thing, Logan knew, that growled like a canine in the forest of Sunberth. He looked around frantically for the source, but couldn't find any within the thick and dark trees. He was completely alone with the sound of the hunger of the wolves to keep him company.

Logan took one step then foot steps disturbing leaves quickly sounded. Those footsteps wasn't Logan's because he took one step then froze in place. Those footsteps was the sound of the wolves coming closer to him. They had decided he was easy prey and now they were attacking.

The first came from his right side. It leaped in the air then opened its mouth. It had plans to take a good bite out of Logan. The wolf was getting a little too ahead of itself.

Logan suddenly fell on his back as the beast came closer to him. His legs came up and smashed into the wolfs stomach. Logan sent the creature flying past him and slam into a tree. Even though Logan was the one that hit it, he winced more than the dog at completing this action.

He couldn't stop now. There were more than one growls that he heard and not even the first wolf was down yet. He brought himself to his feet and readied himself. Just as he expected, another wolf came towards him from the front. Logan placed all his weight on his injured foot so that his other could make an upward spiral kick at the canine. It made contact- the wolf flew- but once again Logan had felt the horrible effect of fighting. He fell to his knees and winced in pain like he never had before.

While he was down another wolf came from behind him. It's fangs and growl said that it was confident that it would be the first to grab Logan. He extended his leg back, and as soon as he did the creatures nose and his boot became personal friends.

Once again another wolf came from his front. By this time Logan was getting tired of all these damn wolves in this damn forest. He lifted himself in the air and extended his legs. Logan's body spun horizontally and sent the leg uninjured into the side of the wolfs head. This time it winced more than Logan and instantly fell to the ground- and unconscious.

Logan laid on the ground, out of breath and slowly fading out of his own conscious. He always knew that his rule against killing would be his downfall. He wished he had a dagger, sword, or arrow at least. But that would mean going against his morals, and he couldn't. As a man, he had one thing that was important: his word. He made a vow, he wouldn't break it.

Logan dragged himself towards a tree then rested his back there. Two wolves surrounded him- saliva dripping from their lips and soiling the ground. They were that hungry, were they? Logan laughed at how funny it seemed to have such a bad ass character end his life as dog food. He sighed and prepared to embrace death as the wolves came after him.
Last edited by Logan Storm on July 7th, 2015, 4:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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[Job] What makes a killer

Postby Logan Storm on June 7th, 2015, 2:45 pm

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An arrow flew to Logan's head. It did not hit him but instead curved past him. Its point attached to the wall behind him, and Logan was left frozen in surprise. It took much will to contort that surprised face into an angry one.

"What the petch?!" Logan asked as he looked towards where the arrow flew. It came after him with no warning, so it seemed like it was an attempt to kill him. He crouched low and held a hand behind him as if to signal someone to halt. Automatically, the people who were following behind him stopped.

"What is it?" the burly woman named Stella asked. Seeing Logan's wariness, she moved her fingers to the blade on her back and crouched as well. As though it were a chain reaction, Brice, her brother, did the same as well. It was Logan's client who broke the chain when he walked in front of them all.

"I recognize these arrows," Byron said as he inspected the weapon that had flew past Logan. The bodyguard stepped between Byron and the direction where the arrow had flew. Logan's eyes never swayed from that direction as he was searching for the artist who had used this weapon with near precision.

"Byron, you need to step back now," Logan ordered. Byron dismissed his orders with a grunt as he still inspected the arrow. "Metal point with weird architectural lines running through it," Byron said. "A red string tied around the end of the shaft before it meets the fletching. This is Hunter's arrow."

Logan looked towards Byron confusedly, this being the first time he took his eyes away from where the arrow flew. "Who's?" He asked Byron, but the answer did not come from him- it came from the area which birthed the arrow.

"Mine!" A deep, burly, and cheerful voice shouted towards them. From the aligning of trees stepped a man as large as a rock. His skin was as dark as dirt, hair ran from the beard on his chin to the bush on his chest. The man had on no shirt, and straps ran from his chest to the quiver and sword scabbard on his back. When he looked at the group he smiled with joyous glee, as though he had won a large amount of money and was now bigger than the world.

"My, my," he said after he made a jolly laugh. "You guys have no protection over this man. One misstep and you would have been dead." That last point was definitely towards Logan, who was wondering what the man meant by misstep. "It's a good thing that I'll be with you or you'll fail your mission, buddy."

Logan didn't like this guy. He gave off the look of a general arsehole, like the other two people which he would be dealing with on this journey. Logan never tended to enjoy the company of arseholes, or trusted them; which was mostly because he was an arsehole himself.

"Hunter," Byron called out as he walked towards the new hairy burly man and gave him a welcoming hug. Logan watched both of them, but Hunter especially closely. If that man would do anything to his client it would be Logan's duty to strike him down and make sure that he never rose again. He was almost hoping that Hunter would do something at that moment.

"Everyone, this is Hunter. He will be guiding us as we travel to kill wolves. He'll also be by our side as we hunt. He is an excellent tracker as well as an excellent hunter. The best in the business!"

Byron pointed towards everyone else. "This is Logan, Stella, and Brice. They will be with us on this hunt."

Hunter looked at each of them and spat to the ground as though he was suddenly pulling off a tough guy act. The guy was just lucky that his spit landed no where near Logan. That would have added to his list of reasons to kick Hunter's arse.

"I don't need them just to hunt a couple of pups." Hunter said after his evaluation of them.

Logan decided to take this chance and cut in, getting a little witty revenge from the near miss this man had made with his arrow towards Logan's head. "Wolves aren't pups. They're four feet vicious monsters that work together to rip apart and eat your insides. And I doubt that you can handle all of them with that aim."

Hunter spat to the ground again. "I missed you on purpose, bub."

Logan now looked at this man as though he was greatly offended. "Don't call me bub, bub."

"Guys, guys," Byron interjected in Logan and Hunter's face off. He held his hands up to separate the two; however, they weren't anywhere near each other. That just showed how great the tension between Logan and hunter was. "We will be spending days together under the same stars for bells, the least we could do is be adults and focus on not dying to wolves, or anything else in this forest. If I hear another bicker between any one of you, you can kiss your money for the job goodbye."

The thought of working with any of these guys placed a sour taste in Logan's mouth, but losing money might as well have been like shoving Logan's head into a chunk of manure. He decided to play nice for now, and punch every arsehole, other than him, in this group later.
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[Job] What makes a killer

Postby Logan Storm on July 21st, 2015, 10:03 pm

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Another arrow flew. It careened past the wolves before Logan and nearly landed on his head. Luckily for Logan, his senses warned him that this would happen. He moved his head to the side swiftly, causing his whole upper body to fall towards the floor while the arrow landed on the tree that Logan was sitting under.

Logan growled at the direction the arrow came from as though he was one of the wolves. The canines looked towards him then where he was looking at, almost in a confused manner. They were trying to comprehend what was going on, Logan guessed. However, their sense of understanding were not that great. So, they once again turned to Logan and began to growl.

Another arrow flew, landing inside one of the larger wolves head. It yelped loudly before it fell to the ground and died. The other wolves looked at the fallen one with surprise. When they finally figured out that they were in danger, they ran as fast as their four legs could carry in the opposite direction of Logan.

Logan took in a deep breath, finally happy that this animal attack was over and he was alive. "I know you're there Hunter," Logan said coldly, very tired from all the fighting he had just done. "Come out. I need to be filled in on what the hell happened while I took a nap."

Logan could hear footsteps now, somewhere in the distant woods ahead of him. Three ticks passed before Hunter finally revealed himself. He was bloody with bruises and cuts all over his upper body. He didn't look as especially hurt as Logan was, but he did carry himself with heavy damages.

Hunter laughed the sickly way Logan hated. As it pierced his ears he found himself wishing that he were deaf so that he would not need to listen. Hunter stood in front of Logan and offered his hand. Logan took it reluctantly, and Hunter helped Logan stand on his feet. His ankles were still in pain, however, and Logan had to lean on a tree near him to steady himself.

"I guess this is the second time I saved your life. You should be thanking me," Hunter said as he collected his arrows.

"I thank you," Logan replied, although, his feeling of annoyance in Hunter's appearance could not be hidden in his words. He did not like Hunter. And even though he was grateful to have Hunter save his life, a part of him wanted the wolves to take him before he dealt with this cocky man. "Where are the others?" Logan quickly asked so that Hunter would not notice that he was irritated.

"Dead," Hunter replied. "Wolves got 'em. All except Byron, who ran off somewhere." There was something ominous about the way Hunter mentioned his companions deaths as though they were nothing. Logan flicked away those thoughts, though, thinking of Hunter as a blunt man only. "I been out on the look for him, or his body. I heard a couple of wolves growling and decided to investigate. That is when I found you."

Logan sighed. "So, we still need to search for Byron."

"We don't have any leads and dusk is turning night," Hunter pointed out. "Sadly to say, Byron might be dead by the time we find him."

"He is not dead until we see a body."

Logan refused to believe that Byron could be dead. If that were true, that would mean a loss at his chance of earning money. He had not yet failed at protecting any of his clients, he refused to now. "We will split up. You will go one way and I will go the other. In four bells we will meet here and report our findings. Hopefully, one of us will find Byron."

Hunter grimaced. "This will be an awful lot work, finding one man in a sea of trees and wolves."

"If you feel that way then leave. I do not need your help," Logan said stubbornly. On the ground next to him was the bag which he had threw away before. He remembered its contents: brush, tooth paste, tooth brush, and flint and steel. He took hold of it and rummaged through it again, making sure that there was nothing he missed. When he checked the hidden compartments of the bag he was very surprise to pull out a secret dagger. It's blade was deeply black, very thin, and as it stretched outward to its tip it became even more sharper. There were two handles that joined by a singular pole. On the butt of each handle were circles that reminded Logan of an ear.

The dagger was heavy, but felt right in Logan's grip. He didn't enjoy the thought of using this weapon to kill any creature, he didn't enjoy the thought of killing at all, but he had a resolve to live through this day, even if that meant breaking his own vow.

"I'll see you in four bells," Logan said to Hunter. He took both his and the other bag along with the medical kit with him, limping off into the near darkness. Logan continued down a singular path with little lead on Byron. Every few ticks he would strike a mark in the trees with his new dagger to make sure that he had a way back to Hunter. He also hoped that Byron would find these markers and find Hunter, that would at least mean that he was protected until Logan returned.

The night was still. Logan barely heard a howl, growl, or movement. Bugs and birds still roamed the area, though, and made hollers and clicks to tell Logan that he was not alone. But, it was not the bugs and birds he was specifically looking for. Wolves never gave up on a hunt as easy as Logan, they would probably follow him to the edge of Mizahar just to taste his skin. If he was going to be attacked again, Logan would at least want to hear the growls coming. That was why he was listening out, and becoming very tense the more he heard nothing.

"Byron," Logan called out with a quivering voice. "It's- it's Logan. If you are there then make noise!" There was a sound of moving grass. To the sound, Logan's heart jumped to his throat in fright. He held up the dagger and faced the area of the noise. His heart was doing hurtles inside his body, and his fingers were beginning to shake. Logan didn't realize it at first, but he was becoming very afraid.

He was not normally the man to accept fear. From the time he was young, being raised in Sunberth, Logan was taught that fear was a weakness that had to be destroyed in order to live. Logan had lost his sense of fear long after he had killed his father, but yet it returned, and it had a much greater effect on him than he could ever remember.

He would have nearly pissed himself had it not been for a familiar voice calling his name. "Logan...?" Byron questioned as he slowly stepped out of a gathering of trees. He looked like he was seeing a ghost, an expression Logan thought he had as well. "Oh dear, Logan... You're alive!" Byron said happily. Logan smiled back at his client, "And so are you, thank your mighty gods. But we both will be dead if we do not leave these woods."

"I know," Byron said sadly. "It was very foolish of me to come out here with little help and little supplies."

"Now is not the time to reflect on your mistakes, Byron," Logan interrupted, not having the patience to listen to Byron's depressed thinking. He had to return Byron safely to his bed, only then would they be able to relax and speak. "We must follow the tree markings that I created with my dagger, then wait for Hunter. Then we will be able to-"

"Hunter?!" Byron interrupted Logan with fury in his eyes. Logan paused to look closely at Byron, finally noticing that he had a cut on his head. Blood had poured out of him and nearly covered one of his eyes. It was a strong possibility that Byron was half blind now, he would need to wash his eye out if he wanted to see with both once again. "That traitorous man! How did you meet him and not kill him for all that he had done!"

Logan blinked at Byron confusedly. Byron understood Logan's look and began to say, "You do not know? Hunter is an assassin!!! He was hired to kill me, but decided to kill you all first. He killed the twins and then tried to kill you!"
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[Job] What makes a killer

Postby Logan Storm on July 27th, 2015, 4:08 pm

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Logan did not like these people. Their company was like thorns stuck inside him in a place where he could not reach. Their voices were the most annoying, combined they sounded like wild birds mating near his ears. He wouldn't survive, he kept thinking. Sooner than later one of them would say something extremely nerving, then he would punch them so hard that their teeth would begin to fall one by one.

So that no confrontation would happen, Logan stayed behind the rest of the group. He mostly spent his time watching his back and listening to the animals of the wild.

All he could see so far were trees. He knew that there would be an open area the more he walked, a place with rolling hills and nothing but grass shifting in the wind. Logan also knew that there would be giant creatures such as bears and large cats. Maybe that was where they would run into a wolf, or at least a deer to snag for dinner. Logan was starting to get hungry, and the day was starting to grow old. The group would either meet a wolf and kill it, or stop to make camp and set traps. Logan didn't mind having the latter over the former at the moment.

"... Logan doeasn't," someone said in front of Logan, drawing his attention by the usage of his name. He scowled at the group and spoke up. "Logan doesn't what?"

Brice was the one who looked back at Logan with an innocent smile, as though he was not aware of Logan's bad mood. "Logan doesn't kill," he said as though he was stating a regularly known fact.

Hunter scoffed. "What man doesn't kill? It is in his blood! Not killing is like a woman not cooking."

"Watch yourself, Hunter," Stella warned.

Logan rolled his eyes at all of them. "I kill because I do not kill. Not every man is born to murder." Logan didn't like this subject. For years now he had shook away the thoughts of killing because it brought back horrible memories. Now he can still imagine it; the dark night, the cold air, the first man he ever killed. The memory of those days would be re-imagined, and he would live through that hell over and over again. This subject, and many others, was the precursor to a terrifying haunting that never ended.

"Murder," Hunter scoffed. "Killing is not murder when you do it to survive. You think man would be able to survive without killing? How would we get our meat? How would we live on to the days we live now? Would you prefer us to scavenge off of dead carcasses of already eaten and fly infested animals? No, us men are mightier than that. We kill to survive, and that makes killing okay."

With all the words of hunters, Logan felt like he was getting scolded. Being a grown man of age 20, Logan did not really feel like being treated like a kid from a guy he could easily knock out. So, to avoid every one of these people completely, Logan stormed past the group.

"Where are you going?" Byron asked.

Logan didn't look back. "To scout the area and be a safe distance away from them for their own safety." As he moved far ahead of the group Logan could hear their conversations gradually grow low. The last he could hear was Hunter giving a high pitched question, asking if there was something he said to have pissed Logan off.

Up ahead, there was nothing but woods and insects, exactly the same as when he was back with the group. It seemed like there would be no wolf killing today, and Logan would need to deal with these people tomorrow. At the thought of Hunter, his big opinionated mouth and judgmental stare, Logan grew furious. If he had to deal with them for another day then he might as well quit and leave now. Maybe he would meet up with some girl at the bar, and witness a night of passion, not a night of annoyance. He almost thought of sleeping with Stella, but when he imagined those giant manly arms wrapping around him, he cringed.

Logan picked up a rock from the ground and evaluated it. The rock was grey with a few color from mixed sediments. It looked like it could break easily, but there was only one way to prove if that was certain. Logan tossed the rock at a nearby tree with all his might and watched as it scattered into littler pieces. Doing that felt great, and he thought that a small amount of anger was released from him.

He picked up another and tossed it. This time the rock split into two pieces. That made him laugh, and he bent down to pick up another. But as he reached to the ground, he heard a low rumble that resembled a dog growling. Logan looked ahead of him, and there stood a large grey wolf.

Logan stared at it, slowly rising back to his feet, and it stared back at him, watching his every move with hungry eyes. He began to back away slowly, and the wolf's ear began to twitch. "Woah," he tried to calm it, raising his hands and moving backwards with the speed of a turtle. The more he stepped, the lower its head went, the larger it growled, and the more it salivated.

"I... Don't want any trouble," Logan said with a quaking voice. He swallowed hard and continued to back away. "I'm just here to protect someone..."

"Get DOWN!" Someone shouted behind him. Logan turned his head to see who yelled out of instinct, and the wolf came rushing after him. Within a tick Logan had a canines hard jaw on his foot.

Logan shrieked so hard that he disturbed the heavens. As he began to tumble down, he felt something tickle his side and he saw an arrow land on the beasts head. The beasts powerful teeth released him, and he slammed his head against a tree as he fell.

Next, there were screams. "What the shyke do you think you are doing?!" Someone argued. "More are coming!" Someone hollered. Logan saw four figures run past him, all screaming something unknown. He could only hear his rapid breath now. He looked down to see blood rushing from his feet, and somehow from his side stomach. His breathing increased, but his vision was going dark, and soon he could see nothing. Soon he could hear nothing.
Last edited by Logan Storm on July 28th, 2015, 5:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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[Job] What makes a killer

Postby Logan Storm on July 27th, 2015, 5:53 pm

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31rst of Spring 515 AV


He barely made a sound as he drifted through the forest. Nothing could hear him, and nothing could see him while he hid under the shadows of the night. If he were a predator, he would be the most deadliest creature around.

Soon the shadows would begin to end, and light from the moon would shine to reveal him. That was when he would meet the hunter. The man with the dark heart, the killer with the red eyes. For a while now he felt like he was being hunted, but by regular animals, not this man who disguised himself as a friend. Now he knew, though, and knowing only made him furious.

He would reveal himself to the true hunter, but not now. Now he stayed in the shadow and watched with hungry eyes. There was a howl of wolves in the distance, and the hunter looked towards where it sounded, shaking within his boots. He liked the sight of this man being afraid, eyes opened wide and waiting for something to take his life. He liked it a lot.

In the shadows, there was a twig that laid near his feet. He stepped on it, and it made a crunching sound. The hunter jumped and looked towards him, but could not see him. The hunter raised his bow and searching for an arrow. The time was soon, the bell of justice nearly tolled. When it did, he would step out and bare judgement. All he needed to do was wait.

There was a large ringing, and the hunter looked off into the distance of the night sky, breath rapid with fear. It was time. He stepped from the shadows one foot at a time. The hunter looked at him, and soon felt safety.

"Dammit Logan! Don't scare a man to heart rush!" Hunter shouted.

"If you have a heart attack from me then you are truly a coward," Logan jested, moving closer to hunter. In his fingers was the knife he found in the twin's bag. It was held loosely, but easily accessible for use if Logan felt like stabbing something.

Hunter scowled. "I ain't no coward," he said defensively.

I would beg to differ, Logan thought. "Did you find Byron, Hunter? It looks like you didn't move an inch from that spot where I left you."

"I moved! But I got nothing. After three bells of search I came back here to meet you. I swear, the longer I waited for you the more these woods played with my mind. I could hear echoes Logan, echoes! I think it was the dead, warning me to leave this forest. Did you find Byron? Hurry up and tell me you did so we can leave this cursed forest."

Hunter shook even as Logan stood in front of him. The forest did get to him; it played with his mind and now he stood a man turned child, lost in a world full of monsters. It was almost pathetic, and would have been had Logan not been the same way just a few bells ago.

"I found Byron, but not alive," Logan said sadly. "The wolves got to him before I did."

Hunter looked relieved. "At least we know where he is. Further in the morning I'll return to fetch him for his family, I know where they live. For now, let us get out of this forest."

"Alright..." Logan looked defeated. He walked next to Hunter, and together they began their trek back to Sunberth. But before they could really begin, Logan stopped to ask Hunter a question. "Who did you really aim for?" Logan wondered. "Me, or the wolf."

Hunter looked confused. "Wha-" he began but lost his train of thought when he felt a dagger flow through his stomach. His eyes were once again wide with fear, and a little bit of sadness when he realized what was taking place.

Logan's eyes were that of hatred, and he slammed Hunter against a nearby tree with that same loathing. One hand held onto Hunter's right arm, the other held onto Hunter's throat. Logan's dagger was in Hunter's stomach, so deep in that it could barely be seen. Blood was drenching Hunter's shirt, but it was moving slowly, not fast enough to make Hunter die from blood loss.

"Mur..... Mur..... Derrr," Hunter let out, but Logan's palm on his throat prevented him from saying a single word. Even still, Logan understood. And with a heavy voice he said, "It's not murder when you kill to survive."

Logan ripped the dagger from Hunter's intestines and sent its tip through Hunter's neck. This time, the blood came out in gushes. Hunter choked on it, and lost breathing capability. With sadness in his eyes, Hunter stared at Logan while he breathed his last breath, spoke his last words, and lived his last life.

Logan stood over a dead body now. His heart was racing rapidly and his breath's were heavy. He thought he would pass out and die, like Hunter did, from the lack of air around him.

Logan fell to his knees, fighting his own self for breath that he could not find. His eyes ran back to the dagger in his hand, and he threw it away as though it was melting away his skin. Logan was wheezing, he knew, and crying. He would have passed out right there if it was not for the warming touch of Byron's hand on his shoulder. Logan looked up at Byron, and Byron looked down with a worried expression.

"Logan," he said uneasily. "We must go..."

Logan looked behind Byron and saw eyes. Yellow eyes with vicious intent within them. There were multiple, maybe even hundreds. They infested the forest like termite in wood. Logan did not know if he was imagining them or actually seeing them.

Byron held Logan up, and together than began to run away, back to Sunberth. Logan did not look back when he heard the low rumble of wolves, and then the wild howls of victory. He kept facing straight, even when he heard the sound of them tearing apart human bones. He just looked forward, and never looked back again.

When they reached the streets of Sunberth it was nearly day time. They had made it to the next day, they were alive. Byron nearly fell to his knees in happiness, but Logan could not celebrate with him. They agreed to spend some time drinking away the night before, and found the nearest bar to them. Byron paid for the drinks, and Logan drunk as much as he could.

"Logan," Byron called to him while he was on his fourth drink of wine. Logan looked up from his cup for the first time. He didn't even notice it, but he had been crying as he drunk. "We made it," Byron said confidently, but in a way that demanded for Logan to agree.

Logan said nothing.

He had been quiet ever since they came back to Sunberth, even while he and Byron sat together at the bar. He tried to speak, but every time he would say something those words of his would play back in his mind. It's not murder when you kill to survive, he had said, and he had meant. Once again he had killed another man, and once again it will haunt him. He will remember it.

Logan looked back down, only to look up again at the sound of something hitting the wooden table. In front of him stood a dagger. The dagger that he had used to kill his second victim. He stared at it, searching for the blood of Hunter that it was stained with. None was there, Byron must have cleaned it before he planted it inside the table.

"We made it." Once again, Byron said those words, but a lot firmer than he did before. Logan looked at Byron, tears still running down his face. "We made it," he said back. "We made it," he meant.

They parted ways after Logan and Byron had more drinks. Byron told him that he would deliver Logan's pay later, and a little extra for all that he had done, then he walked off to his home, leaving Logan standing in front of the tavern with the dagger in his hand. Byron said that it was called an ear dagger, and claimed it strong enough to cut through steel.

Logan looked at it, uncertain of whether that was actually true. It looked sharp enough to cut through bone, but not steel. Logan placed it in his pocket, and it felt right there; as though it belonged in that place, next to him.

Silently, he looked off to the Sunset Quarter, where his home was. He wanted to go there and he wanted to sleep this night off, but he knew that he would not find peace from sleep. So instead, he turned the other way and walked to a brothel. There was where he would spend the remainder of his day.
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Logan Storm
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[Job] What makes a killer

Postby Royal on December 10th, 2015, 2:22 pm

grading...
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Royal
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[Job] What makes a killer

Postby Royal on December 10th, 2015, 2:48 pm

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Logan

Please update your ledger to account for living expenses for Spring 515AV (135GM/season for common living conditions, 45GM for poor). Once you've done this, PM me and I'll release your grade
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Royal
You can call me Queen Bee
 
Posts: 115
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Joined roleplay: September 2nd, 2015, 9:27 am
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