Author's Notes
Hello, Sorry for the prolonged wait, giving you Chapter 1.1
Why chapter 1.1? you ask, well, that's because i planned to combine them in the future. merging it then turning it a 5000+ Word Chapter.
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Thanos picked himself up, feeling embarrassed and ashamed while at the same time his mood was filled with excitement and joy. He had five years here before the start of the game sired by the Gods, where he and others like him will be used as pawns for their sport.
He didn’t know whether, he should be mad that he was forcefully pulled away from his old life or ecstatic at the fact that he is one of the chosen that could have a chance to be one of the omnipotent beings that governs their very own world, and an add-on of having a realm for himself, if i were to win per say. He thought.
This, compared to his old life was great— rather, much more interesting yet he feared his inability to cope with the expectations of his patron, fear for his inept capability to hold the glass upright and steady as his new benefactor washes her hand.
(A/N:^ Lacking metaphors here sorry, can anyone suggest a proper one?)
He shooed away those thoughts, keeping himself from the negativity and looking more at the bright side. I’m in new fucking awesome world, where there’s monsters and stuff! He mused, deceiving his subconscious anxiety into believing that everything that happened may have bigger merits than demerits and that his current situation is, maybe better than just living normally like he used to.
Continuing his progress, he surveyed his surroundings, seeing that he stood atop a canyon, the fleeting winds passing by, giving a brief kiss to his skin. The air was hot, rather he felt that it was searing; yet he didn’t feel pain but rather, it felt comfortable. Considering the thick hard skin of his new body; what may be considered as scorching can be considered as lukewarm in his stand-point.
He stretched his leathery wings to its full length, spanning over 3 meters. Right now, he feels a bit stumped… well, not a bit. Confused on what to do next, his only clue was what his patron said.
‘Good-luck my champion and train well, this is my realm and until you are ready to face the conquests that you will face in the Broken Realms, you are to train here, discover my blessings and make my power your own.’
(A/N: Bold for Remembering stuff...)
Pondering the thought; other than Train and discover the blessings given to him. He doesn’t have any aims that he can think of as of the moment, but as for now he had two goals set for his future, the only problems left is…
“Where do I start?” He questioned himself; his stretched wings reverting it back involuntarily, seeing that no other life is present within his vicinity. He tried asking himself a question whether the notion of doing a straight through action of trying to find beasts and monsters alike then slaughtering them for battle-experience would be a good idea.
*Sigh*, But decided against it, sensing that it would be upright stupid and would probably get him killed even before the games of the gods start, and it would probably too much for a gutless geek like him to do it, I think? Not sure whether his geeky personality can cope with the power his body possesses. or is he still that geek?
Now that a couple of moments had passed with his mind trying to squeeze out any good ideas regarding training or anything that will help him in the forthcoming occasion, he felt that standing there and doing nothing wouldn’t help him out.
So he stretched his wings again then flew and traversed the scorching air, his body filling up with excitement, like a juvenile bird taking in its first taste of flight; he chose a random direction in hopes of finding a settlement or at least some sentient being that he could interact with… preferably female.
This was due to the weird sensation in his body, something felt-off ever since he first set foot; or rather fell on this realm. Like something was slowly dwindling inside him, going down slowly and he felt that if that thing, runs out, let’s just say it wouldn’t be good.
He began to ponder as hovered over the rivers of magma and steep gorges; valleys, ravines and chasms that filled the glade. Thinking of his race, his patron, and his future, wanting to see even just a glimpse of what may become of him at the end.
Does he win or not? Is it worth the risks? His questions were unanswered, but he still liked to remember that it doesn’t hurt to be too careful. He began to consider his raise, what is a death-sired incubus? Are the mythologies of my old life viable to his situation? He skimmed through his memories, remembering all things that he either searched or read upon regarding incubuses.
Incubus, Beings spawned from the abyss, incarnations of lust along with its partner, the succubus, these creatures live by the essence of creatures, eating upon their emotions, striving to make them stronger, heavier and more foul.
Is that what I need?The Essences of beings; their emotions, is that how I fill up the thing diminishing inside me? More questions with no answers arise as he ponders for solutions, feeling a wee bit of annoyance, seeing that trying to find answers brings more uncertainties than he needed. He decided to stop thinking and just focus on finding a sentient being, preferably female, much preferably finding a settlement.
He kept his eyes clear and ready as he scanned the horizon, and there he saw it, huge humanoid beings with bird-heads and human bodies. Their wings spanning over 4 meters and their size, averaging at 7 FT tall, Thanos became ecstatic, just after half an hour of take-off and he already found a group of what maybe sentient beings. i wish...
He increased his pace as he flew towards the group of flying bird-people. Their bird-faces, differentiating from some familiar birds back in his old life— like hawks, eagles and crows, the only thing different is the color of their feathers, unlike the brown feathers of hawks, white and black feathers of eagles as well as the dark colors of a crow. Their feathers range from pale red to crimson dark.
As he got closer, he heard the unworldly sounds of the red bird-people, their squawks sounded like guttural noise coming from their bellies, as they flew towards him, the sound of their squawks grew louder and that is when he decided to name them as Hoarkers; a name he pulled out of his ass. He didn’t know whether they are hostile or not, but he kept himself ready for any surprise attacks; ready to run in a moment’s notice.
he felt like Adam, naming unknown animals (To him atleast) to what he sees fit.
As they drew nearer he felt the unusual tension in the air, an unknown sense suddenly sprung up alerting him of their feelings, or rather intent; Kill, Food, Hungry, Want, he felt the insularity of the situation, but his new awareness kept him attentive.
Good thing that there was no surprise attacks executed as the Hoarkers got closer, they just attacked him with a direct charge; their claws and beaks at the ready, no surprise there, seeing that he expected that this encounter wouldn’t go as planned, a gut instinct per say if he can consider the new awareness he never knew he had.
So he flew away; the Hoarkers right on his trail as he lanced through the air. But he hadn’t given up on possible contact so while fleeing from their attacks; he decided to call out to them.
“HEY! I’m NOT HOSTILE, DON’T Attack ME!” but his words were replied with their annoying and guttural squawks that resounded through-out the vicinity. Yeah, sure why would I assume they understand English…he thought berating himself at his stupidity.
He kept on screaming like an idiot as he dodge and weaved their attacks, something that came naturally to his body, yet his geeky mentality kept on messing with his head, adding some fears and paranoia and the thought of immanent death at the hands of the annoyingly loud bird-people.
What he didn’t expect was for them to surround him, 6 Hoarkers all waiting for his next move, they didn’t respond in his attempts of communication so he labeled them as monsters in his mind as he made a break for it. Flying through the gaps, his speed piercing through the winds, but there was a difference between him and the Hoarkers.
Unlike him, their wings and body was built for speed and years of flying honed their aerodynamic ability compared to Thanos who had only been flying for a few hours; their speed had not much difference.
So they caught up to him, their claws agape and ready to tear his body apart at the slightest contact. Feeling a bit helpless, the tails behind his back gave him an idea.
Thanos reduced his speed, enabling his pursuers to catch up to him, but they didn’t expect for Thanos to use his tails as a means of attack. He stirred to the right, striking the hawk-headed hoarker, with his body, then using his 3 tails to simultaneously stab his opponent, despite his desperate attempts, his tails were too weak, their sharpness only able to temporarily induce small wounds.
So he gladly used their weak-points… their eyes, throats and groins. And he felt its pain, and he relished it. The diminishing thing inside him, slowly filling up albeit very slowly, like droplets on a drying river.
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This gave him an idea as the hawk-face haorker fell; he used the opportunity and drifted to his left and struck the crow-headed one with speed and finesse. But his naivety and inexperience in battle gave his pursuers an edge.
The crow-headed hoarker being slightly smarter than the average bird-brained creatures, grabbed hold of thanos’ body as Thanos struck him. With a surprised gasp,
An unexpected outcome emerged, warily believing that he found a solution to his now endearing predicament by wielding his tails as a weapon... and then unpredictably failing in doing so with his next target; created a small surge of panic that welled up inside him, but he kept his calm, even though he felt the hoarker’s sharp claws rending his back.
He kept himself steady, and pulled back his right arm and forced it into a fist, deliberately raising two of his fingers; both pointer and middle finger as he thrust his two fingers in to the Hoarker’s sockets with strength that is presumably impossible to utilize with his old body…
The end result was the Hoarker squawking in pain as it grasped its gored and bleeding eyes as it plummets to its doom, not noticing the jagged chasm below while Thanos kept himself afloat, looking upward, his gazing resting on the 4 Hoarker’s that now had a presumably angry expression, seeing the loss of its two comrades fall.
He felt, or rather, he discerned… grief, hate and vengeance radiating from their bodies… he also felt the pain and anguish of the falling Crow-headed hoarker and sensed the sensation grow weaker as the distance grew as well as the anger of the recovering hawk-headed hoarker that he wounded with his tail.
The taste of pain, anger, and grief enticed him, it was as though he was breathing in nutrients as he feed off of their emotions; the stronger the emotion, the sweeter and more addicting it is… like a succulent drug, tempting an achieve-drug addict.
(A/N: What do you call those Drug-addicts that got cured of their addiction? I chose achieved-drug addict since it was the first thing that came to mind.)
His head, now filled with craving and need as he stared at the hoarkers, his appetite for their sentiments grew… he wanted to taste them all. Envy, Pride, Guilt and Lust, his mouth watered at the thought of sampling— savoring those distant experiences.
His head swimming in reverie, but he was pulled back to reality as the 4 lunging hoarker’s took their first move. He pulled himself together, shooed away the addicting thoughts and tempting revelations. Keeping his mind alert and attentive, he flew towards the recovering Hoarker as he dodge passed their defenses.
Fists at the ready as he dove through the air and thrust his fist straight through the hawk-head hoarker’s chest, the cries of anguish and pain made his skin prickle in excitement. The emotion of anguish and fear gave him power.
His body empowered by blood-lust as he bathe on dark-crimson, almost black blood of the hoarkers. His face contorted to an evil grin, as malicious intents flowed through his mind.
But he was struck, his chest wounded as he barely dodged the strike of what looked or seemed to be a female hawk-headed hoarker, it’s like instincts, his gut told him that it was female, which was peculiar as he can clearly see the outline of the female body.
He decided to spare her, being a gentle-man that he is. He followed her as she flew past him, his three tails and 2 arms ready to grasp and incapacitate but not kill, with ulterior goals below that entire gentlemanly act.
He began to beat his wings faster, catching up to the female hoarker then grasping her wings with his hands; the female hawk-headed hoarker screamed an ear-piercing shriek in terms of squawks as his tails slashed with power in between tendons as his mind recalled each and every sinew and ligament of the human body as though the memory of his 6th grade science teacher as she showed them an anatomical model of the human body, his clear insight made him thought that the memory happened as though it was yesterday.
Amidst the Achilles tendons, the one just below the under-arms and then the connection between the sanction of her shoulder-blades that connected to her large feathery wings, Thanos’ tails created quick incisions disconnecting muscles that enabled control of a smaller set of sections of muscles…
After successfully crippling the female hoarker; he wrapped her up with his tails, keeping her balanced and afloat, the weight was no joke and it made his tails encumbered under the weight; what more, his hostage kept on squirming despite her wounds and kept on squawking their annoying sounds.
(A/N: What's the other term for hostage?)
The other Hoarkers were too surprised to move after seeing their comrade completely disabled and incompetent just after a brief instant after their target grasped her. The screams of their comrade chilled their bones which made them very much afraid as their instincts told them to flee, to abandon, to retreat and so they may be able to eat and live another day.
And they did; their tiny mind fully comprehended the consequences fighting such an opponent like him, Thanos felt their fear and fed on it, refilling his vanishing reserves of what-ever it was that was dwindling inside of him as he watched them fly away. He glided there in his place; not moving except for his wings while staring daggers on the fleeing hoarker’s backs as his blood-lust increased, ever turning him different.
But he didn’t pursue, his target was acquired… the female hoarker, her screams and her pain was satisfying… he kept on feeding on her pain halting the diminishing thing inside of him… which he decided to call as ‘essence’, it sounded rather fitting even though he isn’t entirely sure whether he is actually feeding on essences.
Is it the essence of fear and pain that I am feeding on right now? He asked no one in particular, as he fed on the two strong essences emanating for his now portable essence provider— food in short and will-be guinea-pig in the future for his planned experiments.
Just as he looked at his food—rather, at the hoarker, he saw in her beady yellow eyes loaded with fear. And he felt indifferent about it. He knew that he would have reacted differently, if… he wasn’t so different now…
He didn’t know how to explain it, but Thanos remembered the first time he felt his new body, hours ago prior before this situation. He knew that he was missing something, a part of his personality where morals and knowledge between the difference of right and wrong was gone; a gap somewhere in his soul.
Yet he didn’t feel… bad, but he knew he would if he wouldn’t have reacted so… inhumanely even if the 2nd or 3rd party is a monster, no, instead he would have run. He would try everything not to kill he would try to find another way.
But if he did that, he would die, he knew it fully. His morals were his weakness, and now it was taken from him, and he was glad. He didn’t need it to survive; he didn’t need it to gain power.
He flew down, feeling that if he stayed air-borne any longer his tails would go numb and his food would die from falling. As his feet touched the ground, he didn’t realized how much he missed the feeling of the ground pressing under his feet.
He gently settled down the crippled Hoarker, her eyes dreaded in despair; lost in desolation. “Now for the first experiment”, he said out-loud, feeling a bit… lonely and yearning for social conduct. He stared at the body of the hoarker, her ample breast; about C-cup (American Standards), was covered with brushed leather as well as her sex, rather primitive, he thought as he gawked at the creature.
Unconsciously, his mind craved for taste. He remembered the thought of wanting to taste all-types of emotions. He made a mental check-list.
Anger, check, pain, check, grief, check, hate, check, fear, check… hmmm, he pondered and remembered the taste of each. The anger gave off a taste of spice, something that rather felt tender and hot. Pain was rather… unique, unexplainable in a sense but it was still good… Grief, tasted cold and sweet like ice-cream, hate was just like anger but much more mild and lastly was fear… the tastiest as for the moment. The taste was icy and kept on tickling his taste buds, teasing and giving him enticement… but he can’t entirely find the perfect word for the taste.
Each and every one of it was addicting, but he controlled himself. He wanted to please his patron, his goddess that bet on him in winning and he planned to do just that on the start of the Games of the Gods.
but for now, he needed to find out more about his race and experiment... with the female hoarker.
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For people wondering why he is acting like a fanatical person, is because he is affected by magic... mhmm kay?
also, this is meant to be like a book so progress is slow, planning in probably 7-9 Volumes for this whole novel :)