"why Don't You Understand?"

[Wretched 2075]

 

A lone black crow circles gracefully through the air, its beady eyes staring down to the ground below in excited hunger. It would cry out in anticipation, the sound of its gradually flapping wings being rendered inaudible by the whisteling of the wind blasting across the snowy mountain tops, carrying large clusters of snow, shimmering beautifully in the light of mid-day. But the crow stood its ground against the wind, its circling continuing as he fought desperately, and patiently against it.

 

Below sat a scene like no other. Knox too, stared down to the bloodbath before him, but not with his usual sadistic smile, but rather with a look of utter pity concealed tightly away under the forever-smiling mask of his pumpkin. He knelt down, his knee resting at the edge of the slowly expanding pool of blood as he reaches his arm forwards to the most intact body of a dwarf. Grabbing it by the hair, he released a shrill screech of anger through his cracked pale lips, his arm thrusting abruptly forwards to stab through the corpse's throat. What little blood the dwarf still contained, now began to flow through the open wound, drenching both the dwarf and Knox in a fresh shade of gloopy red blood as he slid the knife from the wound to hold against his chest.

 

No matter how many times he would warn them, they just couldn't stop, couldn't take him seriously. Knox pondered why this was, why did they all choose to ignore him, had his point not been made clear enough? Had he not done enough? They had the chance to save themselves, yet they choose against it... They were to die, just like the others of course. But how could they have been so blind? How could they have not seen? These thoughts caused Knox to pause, staring down into the paniced expression of the corpse's face before being kicked back into reality by an impatient cry from the crow, soaring above him. He slashes the knife back and forth across the dwarf's face, tearing it into tiny shreds as parts of his bloodied skull began to be revealed.

 

With one last angry scream, he hacked down at what was left of the dwarf's neck, severing it from his body to drop to the floor with a heavy thud, causing a small splash of blood to wash over its face. Knox couldn't help but snicker childishly at the sight, no matter how bad things looked, sights like these had always found a way to spread the smile back over his face. Nodding once, he rose to his feet, the heels of his boots clicking sharply together as he slipped the bloodied knife back into his jacket. Peering back up to the crow, he gave it a soft wave, curling his wiry fingers slowly up and down before twirling himself round to prance back the way he came, humming peacefully to himself. There was still time, he knew that. It wouldn't always have to be like this, one day, they would understand.

 

The crow promtly dived down to the scene, its beak snapping at little bits of torn flesh as Knox left it to enjoy its meal. If anybody was to travel from the dwarven boat in Kalos to the main fort, the would notice this sight just at the start of the stairs: Two bodies, torn limb from limb lay strawn about the blood-soaked stone steps. Their faces are unrecogniseable due to the vast variety of wounds and chunks of missing flesh, however it is clear that they had died in a most painful way. Both the stench and the sight would be utterly repulsive to any whom happen to pass by. And of course, a single crow hops happily about the bodies, picking at small sections of flesh at its own leisure.

 

[The Cleaning Crew 571]

OOC:

[Thatpyrodude 2008]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.