Blood, dried Blood, this cursed filth fills my mouth and coats my whole body.

I try to produce some saliva to change the taste in my mouth.

All in vain, the only flavor I get to enjoy is the iron taste of dried blood and burned flesh or coal, maybe both. Fading and emerging memories makes me unable to determine if I am really able to taste something or if it is just a memory currently dominating my mind.

I don’t know how much time passed and seeing only darkness with stinging pain where my eyes should be it is hard to gain any sense of time. But as the pain does not seem to discriminate between the parts of my body it is equally unbearable in every ounce of my flash. I would scream even cry but I don't feel anything I can move but I also don hear anything. It could be that I am currently screaming my soul out but I could not care less as I am fully focused on keeping my mind together.

I am traveling between dreams or memories, I don't know. I could be on a horror trip or in a torture chamber only thing I know is that if let my consciousness slip away I will regret it.

My memories slip further and further away and with them colors, tastes, sounds, every memory of a sense I felt is clouded by a red. A red of blood and flash the only things my mind seems to be able to keep his hold on.

Violent red blood burns into my whole being and paints everything in its color. It twists the bland black into more and more filthy fantasies consisting of only blood and flesh.

Walls of flesh, uncountable corpses and the smell of death, the smell of war the only one I can still remember.

I want to let go. I want this to end. To let my last remaining parts of myself to slip away and drown into this hell. But the only emotion stronger than the pain lets me resist. The thirst for revenge, the fire of hatred.

I will endure.

I will wait.

I will be patient.

And I will win.

Blue sparks in the middle of this hell are my last point of resistance. Every bit of magic touching me is fueling this sparks.

Every spark an act of defiance to death.

Every moment I resist a moment I may grow stronger.

Never should I have prayed.

Never I should have held onto my revenge.

Never should I have resisted Death.

These thoughts let the blue sparks flicker but hatred keeps them alive and revenge I will have.

And with the hatred and with the thirst for revenge I remember.

I remember the day I was betrayed, the day a rumor playing with a soldier's greatest fear brought an end to the claim of my birthright. +

With the memory the sparks turn for a moment into a fire. I try to move my tongue, my limbs, anything to confirm the existence of my body or what of it remains. In the end it is all in vain. The only thing I feel is a slight stronger pain in my body. It's source impossible to pinpoint as its spread equally over me. Do I scream again? Did I try this already? The flame turns again into sparks and I can feel the icy death spreading over me. I hate again. I hate again. I hate again. I remember.

Blood, dried Blood, this cursed filth fills my mouth and coats my whole body... .

*****

"Matriarch, may I start a new hunt our supplies are withering!"

"Hold your tongue! You aren’t even allowed to see me and yet you try to bark at me like a senseless beast? Maybe you should be treated as one and make yourself usable as that what you seek. Food."

"I would do gladly but it is not enough. Let me go with volunteers if I don’t come back you will know that I paid the price for my offense."

A slight snarl which turns into a bark like shout comes from behind the thick leather curtain.

"So it should be. You will be an example of foolery to ignore my warnings."

With a grin, I leave the hut and the matriarch. Leaving through the thinner curtain I can see my pacted ones. With faces showing acceptance for any result they wait and the oldest of them presents me my spear.

"Desor, your Weapon."

I make a nod, knowing well speaking to only one of them would be rude towards my warrior pack.

"We are going to hunt."

There is no usual cheer or roar but every one of them strengthens his grip on his spear.

They hold their ground and they don’t try to flee. They understand any choice we take would lead to death while with the hunt is a chance to prolong it. There is no resolve in their eyes or fear only the readiness for death.

The only escape from this hell of hunger.

"Don’t fear bad dreams they are to guide us not to lead us."

They know these words are not for them but for the Matriarch the reason why I shouted them loud enough for the whole tribe to hear. I have the same dream myself torturing me every night, enough to know there will be danger but we have to hunt.

"Hunt with our strength! For our Might! For our Life! For our Legacy! Hunt!"

A Roar of my kinsmen wipes the gloomy atmosphere fuelling us with the energy we need. We run with our spears readied in our hands, our hearts steeled, our eyes looking for our first prey and our noses for its tracks.

A strong pain dulls my senses in strength I never felt before. An experience unknown to me until now.

I am not a cub and with my life span surpassing 300 years I got my own amount of experience but never did cross such harm my way.

The pain still echoes in my mind and the memory which could explain this situation seems also to be gone.

*****

"Where .. ! Where are .. ! Where are my children!"

A mighty roar escapes my fangs putting every living being in my kingdom in a state of panic. But I am not stupid enough to be unable to understand how futile this act was and that any anger I may show would be meaningless.

In reality I am more than unconcerned by the well abouts of my youngest ones. I already spread my blood wide enough years ago and I only play by the rules of the position I hold as a crowned beast in this area.

"Only death awaits my enemies!"

Less loud than before I threaten every race in my territory. , knowing I got everyone's attention with the first roar, letting them remember their position.

I could now as well make a stroll through my kingdom and it borders but to keep my act of anger up I am forced to run in a played haste.

"Children, I don’t see why the beasts I raped held them always in such high regards ..."

I mutter only audible to myself before I set out to go.

"They warned us about the beasts and how they twist ones live and soul but the power they bear is the only one in control. So don't seek forgivness or redemption only pray you will survive."

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- The book of origin