Garou XIII
The two companions guarding the police station could not have appeared more disparate. Ilnhezara , a tall, lean drow stroked her graceful mane of brilliant silver, contrasting with the charcoal of her skin. She wore a fine silk uniform wearing the insignia of the Nexus police force, her noble features causing most to mistake her for a princess of great stature and breeding.
The orc standing next to her could never be accused of such delicacy. Stocky and brutish, many would have confused Olathe for the source of the road’s dirt. He wore a suit of armor, part leather, art plated and covered with a myriad of buckles and straps.
Despite their difference, both had been assigned on guard duty and had were bickering, something about who would be the one to get promoted. However, their banter was soon interrupted as they both noticed some weirdly costumed brat walking haggardly towards the station like a drunk.
The orc grunted and walked up to the bumbling boy. Something seemed fishy about him, he was off. He blocked his path with his massive, imposing body
“Hey, this is a restricted area. No trespassing, so be on your way and get lost, kid.”
The white haired man’s glance did not avert from the station. Instead, he stopped completely and smiled.
“…kid?” He muttered gleefully, sending chills down both their spines. That man was not normal; something told the drow that if she did not dispatch the fool this instant, she would regret it.
An instinct honed for decades that had yet to fail the dark elf, so she slid her hand on her sword’s hilt as magical energy began to swirl on the blade, invisible energies spun subtly like an aura ready to strike down with swift justice. As soon as he made a move, she would strike once, far than enough to incapacitate such a foe. And yet, why was her hand trembling such?
A deranged, bloodhungry smile crawled up Garou’s lips, and on that very moment their fates had been decided.
The entire station was littered with scattered bodies, dragged through their blood and muck that stained the white walls and blue uniforms in red. Amidst the battered mangled bodies stood a single man, his immaculate snow white features stained and sullied by blood as well.
But it was not his, his body indeed covered by multiple shallow wounds, far too superficial to be considered anything but a trivial occurrence.
The man smirked arrogantly and slapped his cranium a few times, as if to get water out of his eyes. Instead, it was a small stream of blood that came falling down gently on the ground. Mocking glee and disappointment were both carved on his face, along with a sadistic glee.
Aye, it was surely a monster that had come here to ravage and lay waste, tearing all these men until its hunger was satisfied.
“Jeez, what a pain. Are you sure you guys are supposed to be cops? You’re so weakshit you might as well have signed up for the cannon fodder division. You talk big, but you just don’t deliver. Tch, laaaaame! I didn’t expect much, but I thought you’d at least put up a fight.” He spoke, but his words could easily be mistaken for the ravings of a lunatic.
Indeed, for a single man to have dispatched all these officers alone was nothing short of madness. That is, is what had crushed their bodies and hopes was indeed a man. And that monster, for it was the only thing that you could describe him as, was now laughing maniacally, mocking and belittling their struggles, their justice, their hope….
He walked up to a jet black woman of moon white hair who had been vomiting blood and gore for quite some time. Her ribs had been completely fractured, her arm snapped like a twig only for her scattered carcass to be thrown away brutally against the wall. Even then, the beast was still not satisfied.
With mocking glee and the cheerfulness you’d expect of a child, he kicked her down nonchalantly and stepped on her red stained cheek. His cruel grin was only topped by his mocking words filled with smug satisfaction.
“Still, you get A for effort.” He whispered, crimson eyes gleamed with madness. He was enjoying it, crushing that noble, beautiful dignified figure into a pitiful shell gave him pleasure far exceeding the greatest of sexual releases.
The elf shot the man with a weak but scalding glare, rage and indignation screaming all over her broken features. She gnashed her teeth and spat at his feet, mustering all her strength to oppose him. Even if he ripped all her limbs and raped her over the beaten bodies of her comrades, she would not give up. She would oppose that beast with every fiber of his being. That was her mistake.
She cursed, words spoken with a weak, soft voice and yet seeping with hate. “You’ll never… get away with this… AARGHAAAGH…Ahh…!”
Garou pressed her face with his foot, rubbing her with his heel as the foot dug deeper and deeer into her face, crushing her jaw with incredible force. The pain was unbearable, but as soon as her jaw was about to snap he let go. That was the worst, the most insulting part of all.
Each and every wound he caused was one meant to break them slowly, to degrade and cripple them so he could toy with them to his leisure. He would not kill them; he would not let them die so easily. Not until he had his fill…
Garou crouched and yanked her by the air, raising her head to his level. Seeing her face like this only made his expression more joyful, his once cruel grin now turned into a genuinely cheerful, innocent smile.
“Behind people’s backs, I hear your boss is cold blooded and merciless. Then the result will be the same, even if you manage to get back, no? Instead of having you executed for dereliction of duty, they will give you a posthumous promotion if you die in the line of duty, misses… Ilzeneara? Well, in that case, the future of your wife and children are safe and sound!”
Suddenly, he dropped her casually on the ground like garbage. She hacked and trembled, feeling spasms all over her body as a cold sensation overtook her. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t cry. Without a care in the world, Garou walked back and picked up one of the guns lying around. He pointed it to the girl and smiled.
At that moment, the horror and despair overtook Ilnhezara. The strong, proud, stern figure that was once the splendor of her division was now nothing more than that of a sobbing girl. He had won.
“N-no. Stop. S-stop. P-please… agh- aaaaaaaah!” She wailed, begging for mercy. That only made his smile gentler and kinder, almost as if her misery warmed his heart like a great symphony. The gun clicked and his finger eased itself to the trigger.
“Bye bye, see ya, good night and good work.” He purred. Then, he smiled, pulled the trigger and the whole world went black.
