Thread: ...And Blood Shall Hunt For Blood [Kuro_Bara x Ryees]

RE ...And Blood Shall Hunt For Blood KuroBara x Ryees Briarwood was a melancholy pit of twisting corridors, spiraling hallways, and grim-looking chambers. The place reeked of death even so long after Greer's influence had been silenced by Surreal so long ago. Daearmuid's skin prickled uncomfortably as the feel of the place washed over him. Bile welled up in his throat and he swallowed it back, grimacing at the burn but pleased for the fact that it was a sensation he could feel that was not instilled on him by this anguished asylum. His crimson spear glinted dully in the fading light craft produced a dim light for him to see by, casting a soft red glow over the hall as he traversed it. Finding her would be impossible. He could smell her, certainly, that telltale sweetness of a Queen that every male Blood was attracted to the moment his loins came to. If before he had licked his lips at the scent, now it caused him to choke back sobs. This place, this demonic house of hate, was no place for one such as her. She was better than Briarwood, but would die here. The tears leaking from his eyes turned to steam at the psychic heat emanating from his body. Finally he broke, choking a sob as his regret ran deep. He opened his mind to the Winds, intending to send a message back to Saetan. Help me! The stone around him buckled as a bubble of force screamed out of his body. Briarwood shook to its core. Daemon's training was entirely disregarded, now, and instead he turned to the advice he had claimed from Lucivar. The Red threads came easily to his Birthright and he called out in answer, HOLD ON! I'm here, I'm here! I'll find you! He grit his teeth together. His thoughts were private now. I'll find you if I have to raze this entire building to the ground. He took off at a sprint down the hallway, his spear lashing out left, right, left, right, slicing doors in half and at the hinges. Rooms were flooded with energy as he probed each space while he ran past. Empty, empty, empty, empty, they were all empty, each and every one he passed. This wing was empty. His net cast farther. Wider. He strained his senses, desperately scouring every door and every chamber. East wing, central wing, basement... Nothing. West wing... He bristled. A number of psychic signals. Male. Not Blood, but nor did they feel like Landen. They weren't half-bloods, either. That left one thing. If his blood hadn't been boiling already, it rose to a fever pitch now. The scum of the earth was not only in the presence of his Queen, but the reason for her distress? Somewhere in his mind it occurred to him that this was not his Queen, that he had no claim on her, but the rationality behind that was crushed underneath the weight of his fury. He had found her, that was all that mattered. Daear's legs had never carried him faster, especially considering the Ebon energy that propelled him along. Doorways blurred by him as he tore through the hallways. He slammed into the wall as the hallway he was in ended, entirely forgetting to Craft himself a cushion to brace the impact. The damage to his body was irrelevant. It was just another setback that kept him from Her. Halls, atriums, an office, and more hallways. He was close now. He could feel her. He could feel them . The blade of his lance sang out. That rouge spear sliced through the hinges of the door and he ripped it off with his other hand. Two men. Two bodies to create. He hefted his spear easily and Crafted a small disc of energy at its base. A bestial howl and a ferocious burst of Ebon energy launched that spear as by cannon. The spear plowed through the man above his Queen She is not your Queen, Daear! and the disc caught the flat of his back. His rib cage buckled, but held, and the disc dragged him off of her. It continued along its trajectory and embedded itself to half-haft into the wall, pinning him there like a macabre puppet. The other man in the room had barely a half second to being to turn towards the door before Daearmuid was on him. Mental energy crashed into the man's mind while Daearmuid's fists pounded his body. Mind and body snapped as one as a particularly harsh fist crushed his windpipe fractured his neck in one blow. The ex-Blood's head lolled awkwardly to the side, and his body soon followed. Daearmuid stood in the center of the room, fists clenched and panting. A thin sheen of sweat covered his tanned Eyrien skin his tall body clenched and unclenched as his body tried to decide what state it was in his gold eyes were slowly shedding their haze of murderous rage and his black hair was slowly settling back down where it had been blown up by the harsh energies surrounding his body. Somewhere in the blackness of his mind his body ached from the perhaps excessive amount of energy he had expended. But he had made it. He had succeeded. She was safe, and that was all that mattered.