Fallen Angel Revisited [Open]

[Risk]

The jungle was thick, dark, and hot. It was a wonder so much life could exist in such a climate, but still there was proof in this place that it could and did. Giant trees reached high into the sky, branching out to completely shade what was hidden beneath. Wet grass and mossy trees, vines crawling over branches and fallen logs, and most wonderfully, the strange flowers that took their place in the damp, rich soil and yet without sun. Now and then the sun would peek through a whole in the branches and the life lucky enough to bask in the warmth would thrive before something came along for dinner.

It was a beautifully terrible place.

But it is not here in the damp shadows that we find our attention holding. Rather, high above the canopy that shaded that place, we focus on a winged figure; feathered black appendages pumping up and down at intervals. One wing was pierced with a large ring, the other draped with a large chain that held a silver skull on the end. His black hair danced in the wind of his momentum, his clothes fluttering about his frame.

But something about the sight was wrong. His wings flapped weakly, and his arms were wrapped around his stomach rather than his chest. Pulling one hand back from the place where it lay, he let a curse escape his lips, hissing in pain as he stared down at the blood that covered his skin. He had been flying for quite some time with this injury and a few others. His right wing was severed at the tendon, barely able to function at all, and his left leg was torn to pieces, hanging dead weight beneath his body.

Finally, unable to hold his weight up any longer, the man plummeted downward, crashing downward through the trees, causing more and more damage to his body and worsening the wounds he had already been given. A guttural scream sounded loudly from his throat as he landed heavily on his shattered leg, breaking it even further. He groaned and pulled himself back, straightening the limb with his hands and weight, muffled cries of pain sounding as he held his mouth closed.

It was then that he realized where he was. The jungles of Zailleon.

This was not somewhere he wanted to be in his condition.

[The Silent Fourteen]

With the utmost care and precision, Rain strode through the depths of the Jungle. He pushed his sleeves up, wiped his brow, and kept moving. A large panther approached, sniffed him, and then sauntered away. Rain smiled, opened his pack, dropped a small chunk of meat, and then kept walking.

He'll get it later. He thought.

Suddenly, something crashed through the canopy of the forest, about twenty feet a head. It looked black, and vaguely organic, but not natural. It was too small to be an aircraft, but too big to be a bird.

"Maybe it's a pilot..." He said to nobody in particular. "Only the governments fly fighters over here....Soldiers...."

Rain stopped and crouched down. He pulled his bow from it's leather case and drew and arrow, quickly, and with absolute silence, he approached the fallen thing. He heard it breathing heavily. It seemed wounded. After deciding that the thing was safe, he approached it, and found a man with wings, badly hurt, laying in the dirt.

"Well...." Said Rain. "You don't belong here." He put his bow and arrow away, and then drew his knife. "You look hurt. And, I don't have medical supplies. Shall I put you out of your misery, winged soldier?"

Rain tapped the flat edge of the large knife against the man's cheek. "It'll be painless. Scout's honor."

[Risk]

The sound of footsteps approaching silenced the man, his pained cries turning into whimpers of agony rather than screams. He let his head fall back against the tree, knowing that whatever was coming toward him would take him if it so pleased. He was not able to fight. Not able to run. He closed his black eyes and let the presence come closer. It was a man, he could smell it, the tender meat hidden under his soft skin, the blood pumping so deliciously within his veins...Oh how he would taste...His smell alone was making his mouth water and his teeth ache.

But no, that wasn't him. That was the demon inside him. He grimaced as the snack...no...human approached and finally stopped beside him, speaking in a voice that was neither kind nor cruel. Out of his misery...He grinned at the word painless. If only death would come so easily to him. If only it were as simple as a dagger to the heart to end his pain. But no...Arcos wouldn't allow it. Arcos would destroy this man in moments. So why in Hell's name couldn't he heal his host body? Silently Rayner cursed the demon and then turned his attention back to the man.

The demon spoke through him before Rayner could even think of his words, a hissed and growling voice emitting from the man's throat, "Your weapons will not take me, human. Your life would be mine before the metal of that knife met my chest."

[/i] Rayner turned his head and opened his eyes. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, and even the demon inside him could not mask the agony in his black eyes, the whites of them long fallen to the presence in his soul. The demon opened his mouth, bared deadly fangs at the other human and Rayner was powerless to stop him doing it. In his weakened state he could not fight Arcos' control any more than a mouse could kill a soldier.

Rayner spoke now, his tattered body the only concern he had, and a whisper emitted from his throat, voice shaking painfully, "Help...me..."[/blockquote]

[The Silent Fourteen]

Rain backed away and drew his pistol. He uttered a silent prayer, spoke. "I've no quarrel with you, Demon. And killing me would be a big mistake. My friends would come, and they have much bigger teeth than yours."

Rain continued backing away. "I can do no more to help you. If you can move, then follow me. If not, then a big cat will devour you in a matter of minutes." Rain raised his pistol. "Or I can just end it now. This machine fires darkness rounds. They cut through demons like a knife through butter."

Rain uttered his prayer again, asking for something useful to come his way.

[Risk]

As Rain's prayers met with the still air just outside his lips, Rayner winced, and the demon took a hold of a broken rib close to his lungs. Hissing under his breath he spoke between gulps of air, "Please...don't leave me...I won't let it...hurt you...I need...help..." Forcing the last words from his lips, his head collapsed back to rest on the tree, gloved hands grasping at the dirt painfully. His injured wing twitched as adrenaline caused the muscles to spasm. His eyes closed. His arm and leg did so as well and he crushed his teeth harshly together, suppressing his weak cries of pain.

"Please..." He begged, "Please help me."