11-16-2009, 02:41 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-16-2009, 02:41 AM by Belle Hibiki.)
The warm forest air that wafted through the trees was a welcome change from the frigid fingers of ice that had followed Belle since exiting the arctic sector. Although the sectors were separated by a tall, metal wall and some sort of force field, it seemed that air was still allowed to pass through. Here and there along the enormous barriers, storms had broken out. Warm and cold fronts collided, grinding against one another.
Lightning flashed in the distance, briefly illuminating a tangle of branches just ahead. Reaching out with his hand, Belle pushed his way through. It was more like a jungle than a forest, he thought, pausing once he was clear of the foliage to look around.
There was, as it turned out, not much to see. The trees were densely packed and their leaves grew thick; only the occasional moonbeam pierced the overhanging branches to illuminate the forest floor. Belle lifted his nose to sniff the air, glanced to his left, and struck off through the dense undergrowth once more, picking carefully through a thicket of thorny bushes.
Ten minutes later he finally emerged from the forest into a gentle clearing, and found the source of the scent that he'd been following since earlier that day.
Blood.
It would have been hard to see what the stains were in the dead of night, but Belle could tell what they were easily enough. The stench of blood and death had an odor unlike any other in the animal kingdom.
Pausing to listen, double checking that he was, indeed, alone, Belle ventured out further into the clearing. Strangely, one side of it had been dusted with a thin blanket of snow. But that was secondary to what he found next.
"Damn," Belle whispered, looking down at the pale white body splayed out on the moonlit grass. Whoever it was that had killed the changeling, they'd certainly done a thorough job of it.
Belle knelt down and gingerly touched his fingers to the body's throat. Cold. Of course, it was an alien; it could've been cold the entire time and he would have never known, so that alone didn't mean that it was dead. Belle was pretty sure, though, that whatever kind of alien the man/woman/it had been, having something shoved through its chest and its arm lopped off had probably been enough to do it in.
He knelt, one hand still on the corpse's shoulder, as his brain started to throw possibilities at him. Perhaps there had been another accident, or maybe the changeling, too, hadn't entered a bunker in time. The information that he'd been given at the competition's headquarters had absolutely assured him that there was no risk of any permanent damage. And yet here he was, not even a day into the game, staring at his second dead body in as many hours.
Well, first body, he supposed; there hadn't been much left of John Doe to actually see after he'd been incinerated.
There was a small patch of snow nearby, the beginning of a long strip of it that led off into the forest. It took Belle half an hour to clear it away and to dig a shallow hole with his bare hands, then another fifteen to lay the changeling's body inside and bury it. He hadn't gotten a good vibe off the creature in the extremely brief time he'd seen him in the gas chamber, but even monsters deserved better than to have their bodies picked over by wild animals.
Belle patted down the last clod of dirt and straightened, brushing his hands off on his pants. He wondered quietly who could have been responsible for such a brutal attack. None of the people he knew could have done such a thing. Kaden certainly didn't have it in him to be that hardcore. A dude who got airsick and squeamish about breaking a couple rules probably wasn't the type of person that went around dismembering his competition when simply knocking them out would do.
None of the girls had seemed especially dangerous. But then, he reminded himself, they were women. Their ways were mysterious, unknown and unknowable.
And there was the matter of the suspected third party that Belle had encountered during the avalanche. If there was anything insidious behind the deaths that he'd seen so far, he had no doubt that it would be involved, somehow.
Belle looked up at the moon. He had once heard something strange from his father: a woman's mood and blood, he said, fluctuated with the waning and waxing of the moon. Belle had gradually pieced together that this meant that women, somewhere in their teenage years, made an illicit pact with an evil spirit that governed the night. His father had also mentioned the demon's name, though he had done so quietly, and with the soberest of expressions. Menstu Ration, the demon was called.
The snow stretched out ahead of him. Menstu Ration might be out there, waiting for him in the darkness, ready to take him into its clawed, vicelike grip the moment he showed weakness. Menstu Ration, it was said, was crazy; a spirit that drove to madness whomever he possessed. His mouth ran with blood of men, and his hunger was never satisfied.
But Belle would not be afraid. He took a deep breath; squared his shoulders. If Menstu Ration was waiting, he would fight him; Belle wouldn't hesitate, even if it meant putting his fist right through the monster's lips.
No demon was waiting for him in the darkness. There was, however, something else.
"Damn," Belle echoed his earlier sentiments.
He had been walking for at least ten minutes, and he still couldn't see the end of it. At the beginning he'd thought that the fluffy blanket of snow might have been naturally occurring; an accident, maybe, deposited by the clouds that drifted from sector to sector. The way the snow curved around trees and navigated through the forest, however, put that theory quickly to rest. Belle found it easier to follow the snow than wander off on his own; whoever, or whatever, had left the snow behind had already picked out the easiest way through the brush.
Navigating the forest this way, it wasn't long before he came within sight of his goal. It had been more of a hunch than anything else, but following the trail had paid off. Squat and gleaming slightly in the burnishing light of the moon, sitting in the center of another clearing, a squat, steel bunker stood before him. The snow ended just before the edge of the tree line, its path angling towards the distant structure.
There was a flicker of movement, and the doors to the bunker burst open. A dark figure stood silhouetted against the faintly lit interior before it entered, and the doors slammed shut.
Belle took a few minutes to stretch his arms and legs before starting across the grass, his posture low and loping. He wasn't sure if there were any windows, but he might as well not take chances with a demon.
He reached the door without incident, and stopped to press his ear against it. He frowned. He could hear the faint sound of movement from within, just barely, and the steady breathing of two people - no, three, he corrected himself, catching the faster breathing of the third. The first two sounded like they were asleep, and would be helpless against the third person if they turned out to be the one breaking the rules.
Edging the door open, Belle took note of the line of beds set against the far wall. Bulky shapes slumbered in two of them, and a third stood nearby, faintly illuminated. The latter opened its mouth, and let out a scream. "HEY, GUYS!"
Belle flung the door open so hard ans so fast that it crashed into the wall and left a handle-shaped dent in the steel. Taking a deep breath, Belle leveled his finger and pointed at the hazily-defined shape.
"MENSTU RATION!" he bellowed, "WE MEET AT LAST!"
Lightning flashed in the distance, briefly illuminating a tangle of branches just ahead. Reaching out with his hand, Belle pushed his way through. It was more like a jungle than a forest, he thought, pausing once he was clear of the foliage to look around.
There was, as it turned out, not much to see. The trees were densely packed and their leaves grew thick; only the occasional moonbeam pierced the overhanging branches to illuminate the forest floor. Belle lifted his nose to sniff the air, glanced to his left, and struck off through the dense undergrowth once more, picking carefully through a thicket of thorny bushes.
Ten minutes later he finally emerged from the forest into a gentle clearing, and found the source of the scent that he'd been following since earlier that day.
Blood.
It would have been hard to see what the stains were in the dead of night, but Belle could tell what they were easily enough. The stench of blood and death had an odor unlike any other in the animal kingdom.
Pausing to listen, double checking that he was, indeed, alone, Belle ventured out further into the clearing. Strangely, one side of it had been dusted with a thin blanket of snow. But that was secondary to what he found next.
"Damn," Belle whispered, looking down at the pale white body splayed out on the moonlit grass. Whoever it was that had killed the changeling, they'd certainly done a thorough job of it.
Belle knelt down and gingerly touched his fingers to the body's throat. Cold. Of course, it was an alien; it could've been cold the entire time and he would have never known, so that alone didn't mean that it was dead. Belle was pretty sure, though, that whatever kind of alien the man/woman/it had been, having something shoved through its chest and its arm lopped off had probably been enough to do it in.
He knelt, one hand still on the corpse's shoulder, as his brain started to throw possibilities at him. Perhaps there had been another accident, or maybe the changeling, too, hadn't entered a bunker in time. The information that he'd been given at the competition's headquarters had absolutely assured him that there was no risk of any permanent damage. And yet here he was, not even a day into the game, staring at his second dead body in as many hours.
Well, first body, he supposed; there hadn't been much left of John Doe to actually see after he'd been incinerated.
There was a small patch of snow nearby, the beginning of a long strip of it that led off into the forest. It took Belle half an hour to clear it away and to dig a shallow hole with his bare hands, then another fifteen to lay the changeling's body inside and bury it. He hadn't gotten a good vibe off the creature in the extremely brief time he'd seen him in the gas chamber, but even monsters deserved better than to have their bodies picked over by wild animals.
Belle patted down the last clod of dirt and straightened, brushing his hands off on his pants. He wondered quietly who could have been responsible for such a brutal attack. None of the people he knew could have done such a thing. Kaden certainly didn't have it in him to be that hardcore. A dude who got airsick and squeamish about breaking a couple rules probably wasn't the type of person that went around dismembering his competition when simply knocking them out would do.
None of the girls had seemed especially dangerous. But then, he reminded himself, they were women. Their ways were mysterious, unknown and unknowable.
And there was the matter of the suspected third party that Belle had encountered during the avalanche. If there was anything insidious behind the deaths that he'd seen so far, he had no doubt that it would be involved, somehow.
Belle looked up at the moon. He had once heard something strange from his father: a woman's mood and blood, he said, fluctuated with the waning and waxing of the moon. Belle had gradually pieced together that this meant that women, somewhere in their teenage years, made an illicit pact with an evil spirit that governed the night. His father had also mentioned the demon's name, though he had done so quietly, and with the soberest of expressions. Menstu Ration, the demon was called.
The snow stretched out ahead of him. Menstu Ration might be out there, waiting for him in the darkness, ready to take him into its clawed, vicelike grip the moment he showed weakness. Menstu Ration, it was said, was crazy; a spirit that drove to madness whomever he possessed. His mouth ran with blood of men, and his hunger was never satisfied.
But Belle would not be afraid. He took a deep breath; squared his shoulders. If Menstu Ration was waiting, he would fight him; Belle wouldn't hesitate, even if it meant putting his fist right through the monster's lips.
~+~+~+~+~
No demon was waiting for him in the darkness. There was, however, something else.
"Damn," Belle echoed his earlier sentiments.
He had been walking for at least ten minutes, and he still couldn't see the end of it. At the beginning he'd thought that the fluffy blanket of snow might have been naturally occurring; an accident, maybe, deposited by the clouds that drifted from sector to sector. The way the snow curved around trees and navigated through the forest, however, put that theory quickly to rest. Belle found it easier to follow the snow than wander off on his own; whoever, or whatever, had left the snow behind had already picked out the easiest way through the brush.
Navigating the forest this way, it wasn't long before he came within sight of his goal. It had been more of a hunch than anything else, but following the trail had paid off. Squat and gleaming slightly in the burnishing light of the moon, sitting in the center of another clearing, a squat, steel bunker stood before him. The snow ended just before the edge of the tree line, its path angling towards the distant structure.
There was a flicker of movement, and the doors to the bunker burst open. A dark figure stood silhouetted against the faintly lit interior before it entered, and the doors slammed shut.
Belle took a few minutes to stretch his arms and legs before starting across the grass, his posture low and loping. He wasn't sure if there were any windows, but he might as well not take chances with a demon.
He reached the door without incident, and stopped to press his ear against it. He frowned. He could hear the faint sound of movement from within, just barely, and the steady breathing of two people - no, three, he corrected himself, catching the faster breathing of the third. The first two sounded like they were asleep, and would be helpless against the third person if they turned out to be the one breaking the rules.
Edging the door open, Belle took note of the line of beds set against the far wall. Bulky shapes slumbered in two of them, and a third stood nearby, faintly illuminated. The latter opened its mouth, and let out a scream. "HEY, GUYS!"
Belle flung the door open so hard ans so fast that it crashed into the wall and left a handle-shaped dent in the steel. Taking a deep breath, Belle leveled his finger and pointed at the hazily-defined shape.
"MENSTU RATION!" he bellowed, "WE MEET AT LAST!"
Quote:Belle has entered the Forest Sector bunker.
![[Image: Bellesig6-1.jpg]](http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff137/catseye543/Bellesig6-1.jpg)