Black Rose

- Black Rose -

- One -

Sirithhuan, the elf known as the Dark Wind, walked silently toward a village
of people in the rain hooded and cloaked in black. Four men, holding three vicious
large dogs by heavy chains walked toward him and three other men that were armed
walked toward the expecting elf, and stood behind him. One man that wasn’t
holding any of the dogs, knocked his shoulder into the elf’s intentionally.

The Elf suddenly breathed in a quick breath, and held it, while his eyes burned
with anger. Without looking back, he felt the man lay a hand on his left shoulder,
and then spoke to him in a husky voice when the other men surrounded him; the
dogs snarling at the elf.

“What are you doing around these parts?” said the man, “You
are no man, but an Elf. An Elf that should obey the new laws of not coming here.”

The elf slowly turned around and gazed at him from underneath the hood that
darkened his eyes from view. He smiled strangely, and answered the man with
a mocking voice, “I do not pay attention to these…worthless rules
that you humans make. I am too busy venturing the lands to keep up with your
miserable ways of life, to tell you the truth.”

Puzzled, the man frowned at him, and pushed the elf lightly. “What an
imprudent excuse, tell us another one while you’re at it.”

“Fine,” replied the fair creature, “I’m bored today.
I feel the urge to kill, and I lust to hear the victim’s scream when no
one can hear them call for help, but even if there were any help, they would
die too.” His smile broadened, and then the man stepped back.

“You lie,” responded the man. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Sirithhuan, but you will not be alive long enough to remember
my name so that‘s useless,” said the elf, taking a step forward
to the man, and whispered to him, “Most call me the Dark Wind. And I picked
my first victim of the night.”

Sirithhuan’s smile faded, peeling back the hood from his head, revealing
his blond hair, blue eyes that went well with his fair skin, and his pointy
ears. He tilted his head down slightly, and stared up at the man from underneath
his brows. A very chilling look that he employs when he’s just about to
kill, and that look could stop an attacking creature abruptly in its tracks
when it saw the elf’s intimidating expression.

The man gasped at the mention of Sirithhuan’s nickname, and drew his
sword. The others behind Sirithhuan drew their swords, and were ready to fight
him while the men that were holding the dogs waited for their leader to call
for the dogs to attack. One brave soul ran up from behind, but suddenly the
elf whirled around as he strung his bow and fitted an arrow in place, and pulled
back until the string became tight. The unlucky man never saw it coming, and
never heard the shouts of his friends warning him to parry the arrow as it was
released. The arrow shrilled through the air and pierced the man’s head,
and the man dropped to the ground - dead before he fell to the earth.

Another man charged at Sirithhuan. “Bastard!” he cried,
and his first stroke quickly lowered toward the creature.

Sirithhuan was too quick, as his hands moved swiftly to grab another arrow
from the quiver, and strung his bow once again. He shot the arrow and smiled
when it pierced into the man’s eye socket, and stuck halfway out of the
back of his skull. The man staggered back into a tree that was a foot away from
where they were, and then collapsed. The elf calmly attached his bow securely
back in between the back sheath and quiver, and turned to watch the six remaining
men. He reached back and drew the twin fighting knives out from their peaceful
resting places, twirling them skillfully between his fingers in intimidation,
and stood ready for one of them to charge at him.

“What will it take for you humans to understand that all of you should
die?” asked Sirithhuan mildly.

He closed his eyes for a moment; looking bored as the situation went on, and
listening to the barking of the dogs that were still being held by the other
men. ‘Annoying dogs,‘ He thought. The elf then heard heavy
footsteps running at him, and he smiled.

Sirithhuan jumped back as the man swung the sword, and then parried his right
hand sword as the man swung to the left. The elf quickly slashed at the man’s
side, burrowing the long blade halfway through the man’s torso with a
loud snapping sound of some of his ribs being crushed by the elf‘s furious
counter-attack. Blood gushed out from the wound as Sirithhuan pulled the blade
out through the front and carelessly pushed the man away.

The man that he wounded stumbled back over to him. “You’re very
foolish,” announced Sirithhuan with a cold stare. He stood, waiting for
the weakened man to reach him. The man was coughing up blood, but despite him
being fatally injured, he raised his sword hand up weakly as he staggered to
him.

Sirithhuan speared the clean knife in an upper-handed motion, and the full
- 17 i- le- length of the blade stabbed underneath his chin and up through his
skull. The man gasped, eyelids widen, and the sword clattered to the ground.
The elf ripped the blade out of the man’s face with a spine-tingling sound
of the bones in his features cracking as he took out the glaive, followed by
the gushing sound of blood streaming out like a waterfall.

The man that bumped into the elf gawked fearfully at the scene, frozen in fear,
and his sword trembling in his hand. “I mustn’t die.” He thought
in a murmur. He gasped as the elf turned his attention back at him.

“I suppose it was fate that led me in this direction tonight,”
Sirithhuan calmly said, approaching him silently in his light-footed steps.
“I‘ve seen you before. You are Lord Malek, are you not?”

Malek continued to stare at the elf, frightened by the creature’s menace,
and then thought of why the elf wanted to know who he was, and how did he know
his name, and why.

Sirithhuan went on, “I have seen you before, and I know you well enough,
and your family, and I will inflict the retribution that you deserve, dirty
human.”

“Your family and I share a special bond of hatred with each other, and
one day, I finally had my chance to murder them,” said the elf. “It
seems that I had forgotten of your you and your father when you two were probably
out somewhere. Ridding you is just another step up that I shall take on annihilating
the race of Man.” Sirithhuan frowned. He unsheathed his other fighting
knife, glaring at the man as he thought of the most iniquitous thoughts of what
he could do to Malek.

“You think you can change the world with your idealistic thoughts on
killing me?” Malek asked, his voice trembling.

The elf let out a low laugh, and then the laugh grew louder as he stopped in
front of him. “I will enjoy spilling your vile blood onto my hands.“
He swiftly swung one of the long knives at the man, but the man ducked behind
him, and turned, sword ready for combat.

“Release the dogs!” Malek whisperearfearfully. Yet, the men holding
the attack dogs did not hear the uttered words, and they continued to watch
the fight in concentration, and in wonder.

Sirithhuan slowly turned, and faced him. “You will die.” He raised
both knives up, and twirled them around several times as he smirked at him.

Malek shouted, “I will not! Ahhh!” He rushed at him and
they fought, parrying each other’s attempts to strike one another, but
the man noticed that the elf looked as if he weren’t even trying, and
knew that this creature was extremely, and dangerously skilled in the art of
fighting. He slashed out at the elf, which blocked his sword with one knife.
At that moment, Sirithhuan quickly swung with the other, slicing the blade across
his stomach. He gasped in pain and took three paces back from the elf. “Release
the dogs now!” He gasped in agony again as another strike went into his
shoulder, leaving blood seeping out of both wounds. The man felt weak, but determined
to kill the elf.

“I said release the dogs!” The man shouted and blindly ran back
at him.

Sirithhuan crossed his arms, bounded two steps and swiftly spanned them out
at the man, and then jumped over him, and gracefully landed back onto the ground
silently. When Malek started to fall, he let out a short scream that was cut
off as large amounts of blood sprayed out from crossed-shaped gashes in his
throat from Sirithhuan’s knives. He collapsed, bleeding profusely, yet
still hanging on to his dear life. He painstakingly started to pull himself
up, his eyes becoming blurry as he gazed around to the few frightened travelers
who were hiding behind trees. He reached a hand out to one, mouth moving, and
the blood streaming out of his mouth as he started to choke on the thick, crimson
liquid of his life.

The elf came up behind him, gazing at the pool of blood and the man, who he
had viciously attacked. He smiled pleasingly at the struggling human, and pressed
the heel of his boot into a vital spot on the back of Malek’s neck where
the skull met with the neck bone. With such force, he decapitated him in one
swift move. The dogs rushed toward him; snarling and barking as they jumped
into the air to knock the elf down.

Sirithhuan turned around to see the vicious animals, but the only thing that
he could do for now was to hold up an arm to shield where the canine was wanting
to aim for, and that was his neck. The large dog snarled as it leaped at him,
and its speed and strength could surprise the greatest of warriors; especially
an elf as such. He could tell that the men trained these dogs significantly
with abuse that the canines only knew how to kill whatever they were meant to
attack, and that, was him.

The first dog clutched its muzzle around his forearm, and pressed down hard
enough to make Sirithhuan wince, and he cursed at the dog in his own tongue
as he skittered back, but regained his balance. He started to hit the dog with
his fist, or the end handle of his knife at the canine’s head to make
it let go of him, and as soon as he did that, the other dogs attacked him. One
jumped at him from the front, and the other went behind his leg to trip him
before it bit into his thigh, and never let go as the other dogs continuously
attacked him. Sirithhuan struggled in a painful rage; kicking and swinging his
free hand at the two dogs that were closer to him, but it seemed to irritate
or excite the dogs even more, and each time they drew blood from him that the
smell of his blood provoked them to a bloodlust that a wild dog would have.

The The attack felt like forever as the three dogs and Sirithhuan were still struggling
on the ground, and it seemed that the dogs were winning to the naïve eyes
of the men, and to another pair of mysterious eyes that were watching on the
deck of the tavern and inn several distances away from the violent fray.

His wrist was being pulled around by the first dog while it clawed at his exposed
neck and the side of his face, and another dog had end up biting, and clawing
on top of his stomach, and the last canine had pierced its sharp teeth into
his thigh, and thick elven blood poured out of the wound as the skin gradually,
and painfully started to rip.

Sirithhuan had enough, and the elf let out a growl as he speared the long blade
of his knife that he had clutched in his free hand after hitting the dog in
the head repeatedly with the end of the handle to make it release his other
arm. The dog yelped in agony as the knife went all the way into its skull at
the temple, and the angered creature that its muzzle held on to yanked his arm
from within the loosening grasp, and then hurriedly snatched his hand around
the dog’s neck as he twisted the long blade around in its brain. The canine
trembled and suddenly collapsed next to him, and Sirithhuan quickly grabbed
his other knife that was laying on the ground, and swiftly slashed at the one
that was on his stomach.

That dog yelped as the blade was slashed across its neck, and it backed away.
The last dog looked up just as the elf skillfully jumped to his feet, and head-butted
the dog hard as he rose off the ground.

The dog shook its head, looking around in a daze as Sirithhuan grasped his
fingers around the back of its thick leather collar, and hauled it up onto its
hind legs, held it at arm’s length cautiously; hanging it wasn’t
the only thing that he wanted to do. No. He smirked, looking at the struggling
animal, and then to the owners that were staring at him in an angry awe.

The elf took a step closer to the dog that he was hanging, it choked and tried
to get him to release as it kept moving its head to bite Sirithhuan’s
wrist, but to no avail. Sirithhuan suddenly stabbed his knife straight into
its stomach, and twisted his knife in its gut, and inhumanely ripped up to the
middle of theR’s chest; the sounds of skin ripping, and bone being
sliced through made him pleasingly smile in a horrific way to anyone who was
watching, but all heads of the men, and the several other villagers looked away
while one went to find some help.

Sirithhuan carelessly dropped the bleeding carcass onto the ground once the
stomach contents of the animal poured out of its shaking frame. The elf looked
around with a devious smile, and an idea was born. He kneeled to the dog’s
side, placing one of the blood-soaked knives back into its place in the sheath
behind his back, and held down the dying dog as he rummaged his other hand into
the open chest, and grasped his hand around the heart that was pumping slower
and slower.

He ripped the heart, and blood sprayed everywhere and poured down his arm that
held the organ. He stood up, looking at the men that stared back at the blood-covered,
and injured elf, and again he smiled coolly at the humans.

“Here,” said Sirithhuan, “Have a heart.” He lazily
threw the bleeding heart over to them, and stood ready to fight another battle
as the heart plopped by their feet.