Warning Mature Content, please skip this if your easily offended.
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The Jackals
The Slums were oddly quiet, except for the grunts of a beating.
"If you werr nutt 'reedy zoo daaaamn ugl'e, We rape yo' ass" said by one of the Jackal men. Their necks and the side of their faces had ritual scarring, that of a tribe she knew was long dead and forgotten.
They worked her for over an hour, but for her it would have been an eternity. Walta prayed, through cracked and shattered teeth. These men didn't really want information, she could tell because they had not asked for any, they just enjoyed ruining her and cutting pieces of her up. They enjoyed seeing her humiliated by sticking things in her. She prayed that she would go unconscious, she prayed that they grow bored and tired, and she prayed for the very sweet end.
The angel of death did not come, who came instead brought with him the scent of a corpses bloated under a hot sun and pestilent with flies and rot. The sound of flies buzzing filled the room, and landed around her wounds and open legs. Walta had a wandering eye, but you could not tell from the swelling that disfigured her face. That eye could see things she could not explain, things that were there but no one else can see. What she now saw, she hoped was just a dream, a very bad dream.
"I see, you softened her up for me...
...you didn't need to do that."
The voice was grating like gravel against gravel, his teeth were sharpened, but bright and clean. She could not see his eyes beneath the jackal mask, but the dead eyes of the creature he wore was suffice enough to freeze her blood and numb her. She tried to cast a spell, but what remained of her tongue made her realize who she was dealing with.
He chuckled in a way that made the walls and her bones shudder.
"You will tell me everything... "
"I don...." she said through a mumble.
"You'll know..." He smiled and the poor creature he used as a head piece fidgeted as he put it down and showed her his face.
"Ha' appa'tment...find da Gals tings. Ha' 'ed eh! " "She's famous, you can find out whe' she lives" "She's wid da white you' looking fo."
"If you werr nutt 'reedy zoo daaaamn ugl'e, We rape yo' ass" said by one of the Jackal men. Their necks and the side of their faces had ritual scarring, that of a tribe she knew was long dead and forgotten.
They worked her for over an hour, but for her it would have been an eternity. Walta prayed, through cracked and shattered teeth. These men didn't really want information, she could tell because they had not asked for any, they just enjoyed ruining her and cutting pieces of her up. They enjoyed seeing her humiliated by sticking things in her. She prayed that she would go unconscious, she prayed that they grow bored and tired, and she prayed for the very sweet end.
The angel of death did not come, who came instead brought with him the scent of a corpses bloated under a hot sun and pestilent with flies and rot. The sound of flies buzzing filled the room, and landed around her wounds and open legs. Walta had a wandering eye, but you could not tell from the swelling that disfigured her face. That eye could see things she could not explain, things that were there but no one else can see. What she now saw, she hoped was just a dream, a very bad dream.
"I see, you softened her up for me...
...you didn't need to do that."
The voice was grating like gravel against gravel, his teeth were sharpened, but bright and clean. She could not see his eyes beneath the jackal mask, but the dead eyes of the creature he wore was suffice enough to freeze her blood and numb her. She tried to cast a spell, but what remained of her tongue made her realize who she was dealing with.
He chuckled in a way that made the walls and her bones shudder.
"You will tell me everything... "
"I don...." she said through a mumble.
"You'll know..." He smiled and the poor creature he used as a head piece fidgeted as he put it down and showed her his face.
"Ha' appa'tment...find da Gals tings. Ha' 'ed eh! " "She's famous, you can find out whe' she lives" "She's wid da white you' looking fo."
The King Maker
Khaho'oor was as big as a bus, with maws that can crush a small car. It dragged the body of the bony demon along the smooth marbled surface of the palace. There was no one there save for a gentleman in a business suit, holding his wine glass and sipping it quietly. Its seven eyes watched the man very cautiously, never betraying the caution and that possibility that it was more afraid of him.
"Your Djinn violated my territory, lives of my charge, and veil! He was made to pay, and his creatures too, but I spared his corporeal form!" his voice reverberated within the sound of a fierce echoing growl. "This should serve as justice."
"Does it!" the gentleman replied so graciously. "Well then... it seems you have your justice..."
"This is justice! His fire killed many of my charge, many of yours have answered for that... THERE WILL BE NO MORE KILLING!" Khaho'oor seems to grow larger and has it steps closer to the gentleman.
"This is not justice, something of mine has been taken from me and you have aided these thieves. Your people are to pay." He said is a flat tone.
Khaho'oor lunges at the man only to be wrestled down by the beaten Djinn. The darkness around them suddenly begin to fill with many dark eyes and shambling forms begin to swarm the massive bus-sized rotting dog.
"I will be taking you with me..."
"And what, who will protect your people? I have bought your land just a moment ago and signed up contracts for a development to take place over the sacred ground. You will have wasted your form, and I will have a new development with no more pesky ancestral guardian to bother me."
Desperation grew with hopelessness, Khaho'oor was ready to face the end but not to fail his charge so easily.
"I have a perfect place for your people, a new decommission mega freighter I can use as slum ship. Your people will be living there when I'm done, the whole tribe of Khaha'li will die a death for generations working for me... never ever touching their sacred land again"
"The more reason for me to take you with me..."
"Or you can help me regain my property, undue your mistake and I will promise not to lay claim to your land." The creature paused to consider, "Oh you know my word is good, my words have power." The shambling things and the darkness that grasped the Dog creature eased as it slowly poised itself to submit.
"Now then, lets see how much of a Dog spirit you are, sniff out my Lilim"
"Your Djinn violated my territory, lives of my charge, and veil! He was made to pay, and his creatures too, but I spared his corporeal form!" his voice reverberated within the sound of a fierce echoing growl. "This should serve as justice."
"Does it!" the gentleman replied so graciously. "Well then... it seems you have your justice..."
"This is justice! His fire killed many of my charge, many of yours have answered for that... THERE WILL BE NO MORE KILLING!" Khaho'oor seems to grow larger and has it steps closer to the gentleman.
"This is not justice, something of mine has been taken from me and you have aided these thieves. Your people are to pay." He said is a flat tone.
Khaho'oor lunges at the man only to be wrestled down by the beaten Djinn. The darkness around them suddenly begin to fill with many dark eyes and shambling forms begin to swarm the massive bus-sized rotting dog.
"I will be taking you with me..."
"And what, who will protect your people? I have bought your land just a moment ago and signed up contracts for a development to take place over the sacred ground. You will have wasted your form, and I will have a new development with no more pesky ancestral guardian to bother me."
Desperation grew with hopelessness, Khaho'oor was ready to face the end but not to fail his charge so easily.
"I have a perfect place for your people, a new decommission mega freighter I can use as slum ship. Your people will be living there when I'm done, the whole tribe of Khaha'li will die a death for generations working for me... never ever touching their sacred land again"
"The more reason for me to take you with me..."
"Or you can help me regain my property, undue your mistake and I will promise not to lay claim to your land." The creature paused to consider, "Oh you know my word is good, my words have power." The shambling things and the darkness that grasped the Dog creature eased as it slowly poised itself to submit.
"Now then, lets see how much of a Dog spirit you are, sniff out my Lilim"
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