9ine : Chapter 2

(Part 1 from 2)

Note : This story is completely fictional!

Chapter 2:

The boy ran breathless his lungs screaming for air, burning with the fire that comes when you have ran well after you could hardly breath. His fear for his life pushing his body to the limits, sweat running into his eyes blinding him. He could see the light from the watch fires ahead in the distance, however the wild blood lusting screeches of the creatures chasing him were closing in faster then the bouncing lights of safety.

His feet were flying wildly pounding off the ground jarring his brain back and forth in his head. Then the unthinkable happened, an unseen root caught his foot throwing his body to a sliding halt on the barren ground. The screeches sounded louder and more frenzied as the boy bounced off the ground.
He looked back to see four pale white bodies running at him, wicked fanged heads of a man but a bulbous body with stubby limbs ending in nasty claws covered with the black dirty clinging particles of whatever laid about in their cave. Their breath stinking of carrion and rot of flesh they devour.
He screamed in terror tears streaming down his face as he tried to pull himself up to run on, but the crescent formation of death on all fours was prodding toward him with all speed of hell on wheels. One yard, Two feet, the world blurred and his screaming died down as he passed out just as the creatures reached him, the Nauglarin the local tribes called them, men who have been bitten by the strange white cave snake that is common in this area, magical snakes of the deep who’s poison warps a mans mind and body.

Drool ran thickly down their faces and their black pupils shined with an inner darkness as they slowed their approach to the prey they chased down. The leader of the pack stepped forward, he would eat first, and lowered his mouth full of razors toward the boys leg.
Suddenly his body jerked weirdly and his neck exploded with a red gash of blood and his head rolled down his back to rest on the ground staring deadly at his pack mates.


The remainder leered at the leader stupidly for a few moments in a non believing shock not understanding what happened. Then the very air shimmered with a fiery heat and an orange glow blasted them back two of them closer to the spell burst into flames, screaming and jumping around stoking the fires to higher heat. The third Nauglarin shook his head and pulled himself up off the ground looking around at the mess before him trying to make sense of what was happening.
A shadow closed in on the beast from behind wielding twin scythes of black held crossed before his chest in a protective stance. His feet not making a sound as he padded up to his adversary. He leaped through the air onto the creatures back and crossed his scythes around the beasts head, ripping them through its skull. The Nauglarin’s skull split under the slashing pressure throwing brain matter and gore all over Nines cloak and breeches.

Nine soaked up the moon light glistening reddish gore shining on his clothing and face his breath coming in slow calm breaths even with the adrenalin rushing through his veins. He looked down at the boy he just saved, a bit of blood dripping from his nose due to his face smacking off the ground when he fell. Six Naugs were chasing him when Nine first heard the screams, and six now lay on the ground at various points along the path they ran after the boy.
Nine bent down and picked the boy up in his arms and carried him off to his camp fire in the forest outside of the town the boy was running for, Nine would care for him for the night and the boy would return home to his worried parents or slave master in the morning with a tale of the cat man that saved him the night before.

It had been this way for the last eight months Nine haunted the forest saving wayward travelers and the occasional lost maiden or child from the terrors in the forest. Sometimes he would go into town to have a night in the tavern or to restock his supplies. But other then that he was a shadow to the people, ever wary of the strange half-breed.
Elsewhere, She cried in rage, she cried in grief, the world was looking bleak for her once again. Lauralin had searched for Nine every day since the death of her husband, her hate pushing her on. Her mind floated back to the morning Timothy Knocked on her storefronts door bearing news of her husbands body being discovered on the beach and that Nine was the suspect in his murder.

Lauralin had been traveling steadily north west since the day she left town catching hints here and there of how Nine had found rejection every step he took. In some ways she felt sorry for him, almost understanding why Nine could be so dispassionate, but not being able to piece the puzzle together as to why he might have wanted to kill Geo. None of that really mattered to her though, all that truly mattered was that she would catch up to him, and when she did she would kill him slowly.
She sat up in her bed, looking around at another musty dirt filled tavern room, and reached for her diary to write her latest findings in her trek toward him. It was her way of cataloging her journey and keeping her sanity. She rested back after she dipped her quill in the ink pot and began penning below her words from the night before.

Her journey had been a wretched path of loose stones, and had been keeping her from home for a little over a year now. She had found most of the same rejection Nine had being a woman traveling on her own and had to fight off many drunks and would be rapists along the bitter trail.
She was now staying in a small hamlet on the fringes of society named Hazenbroth. The locals told her fearful tales of the forest surrounding the town and how traveling at night was not a good idea, due to the Nauglarin that terrorized the forest trails and other creatures in the woods. But also they mentioned the forest shadow that showed up about Eight months before, this shadow with a cats looks to it.

They had told her about how many a traveler that came through talked of how the cat man saved their lives. It didn’t sit well with her, hearing tales of how he saved someone but murdered her own love. She felt the tears well up again as she thought on it, finally deciding to take to the pillow for the night. She gave a final look around as she sat the diary on the night stand and extinguished her candle.

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