Swarm the Farms

::There we are then. . . One full bodied farmer. Please don’t throw this one out after you’re done with your sick games, Mika. I want something to eat tonight.::

Three figures stood out amongst the lamp light of the cavern, a stone table laid in the center. Upon the table lay a man, his body twisting in terror as he tried to escape the ropes that bound him to the altar. Fear flared up in his eyes as the figures drew closer, his terror filled screams muffled by a piece of black cloth.

~*I must say, my wolfen brother. . . You seem to have found a nice fat one. I hope his soul is as delicious as his flesh.*~ One of the figures stepped into the light, half of his face illuminated by the lamp. Deep pools of black sat where eyes should have been, his skin paler than a plaque struck midwife. He presses a long, bony finger to the cheek of the man. His flesh hisses and a fresh gagged cry comes from the poor farmer.

“Enough of this. Doryu, take his soul so we can continue. I need his flesh intact so I can complete my latest order.” Mika’s voice drips from the figure farthest from the table, his features hidden not only by shadow but by his cloaks as well. A mask sits on the table by the Farmer’s stomach, the porcelain shining in the dim light.

~*Fine. . . Fine. . . *~ Doryu leans his head over the farmer’s, his eyes locking on the terrified man’s orbs.

~*May your soul be forever tormented in the bowels of the shadows. . .*~

The farmer once again begins to scream again, his cries still muffled by the gag. Doryu opens his mouth and breathes in, as if drinking the screams of the terrified man. He pulls back slowly, a white incorporeal figure rising from the mans mouth, disappearing down Doryu’s throat. Doryu grins viciously, his razor sharp teeth flashing as he drinks down the mans soul

~*Mmmm. . . Delicious indeed. . .*~

The once terrified farmer now lays still, his gaze as blank as a sheet of fresh parchment. He continues to breathe, but the essence of life no longer existed upon his features.

“Excellent. . . Now then, Fenrir. . . Leg or a wing?”

Mika draws a long knife, slicing a large square from the mans chest as if the flesh were a piece of parchment. His laughter echoes up the ceiling of the cavern, rising up the tunnel leading out into the open air.

A scream could be heard as the sun rose the next morning, a woman sobbing hysterically.

“Ezlar! They. . . They took Ezlar!”

A pack of warry townsfolk surrounded the screaming woman, beholding the sight in front of them. A bloody shirt sits in the middle of a patch of upturned dirt, the fabric torn by some kind of paw

“Wolves. . . Wolves did this! Call the captain of the guards! We have a pack of rabid wolves attacking townsfolk!”

The woman continues to sob hysterically, picking up the shirt and burying her face in it.

“Curse those filthy mongrels. . . I will hunt them down one by one. . .”

A boy steps foreward, holding a small farming sickle in his hand

“Let’s hunt them down!”