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Letum =history In Progress=; Onikage of oblivion
Topic Started: Sep 27 2005, 09:01 AM (212 Views)
Cain
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Darkness Embodied, Fear Incarnate.
Name: Letum
Alias: N/A
Race: Onikage
Transformations: Unknown
Element: Dark
Gender: Male
Age: 900yrs.
Height: 195.58cm - 6’5”
Weight: 80kg - 176.37lbs
Build: Moderate.
Eye color: Blood Red.
Hair color: Dark-Grey/Charcoal.
Hairstyle: Spiked-scruffy.

Appearance:
When you think of Onikage, you imagine a twisted beast of atrocious horror, half-man half-animal unspeakable horror one can only dredge up from their nightmares. Letum is an exception, unlike his bulky hulk-like kind he is more streamline with more animalistic tendencies to his appearance. Of course, he still does maintain a fair amount of muscular build surging with unrelenting strength… though he still is rather terrifying in his own way, maybe not some massive brute but just as effective in battle in not more so. Another notable aspect to Letum’s appearance is his malformed body; two miniature arms sprouting from his chest have caused many discrepancies in his life. Often being believed to be of weak or tainted blood… of which neither was looked upon with great liking.

These little arms are just as capable as his much larger ‘normal’ ones, they can harness his inner spirit- his Ki. However, there are restricted in power by only in small amounts like the size of a small rock or even a baseball- To human standards of course. When it comes to an Onikage of course, that makes no difference so long as they are powerful and you can rest assured they are.

Of course, Letum was pure bred; it was just a genetic flaw of his lineage…though he was the only one to receive it strangely. In battle it was never a disability it infact proved quite useful in times of need and led to many of his victories. Moving back to Letum’s appearance, he possesses various tufts of fur on his body, in the areas of his elbows knees and ankles. His chest along with the two small arms contains a shag pile of greyish fur. A mane of massive amounts of hair flows around his head. It is often quite scruffy and of course spiky and misplaced, it runs all the way down his back sticking mainly to the spinal area and finishing just at the small of his back. Up on his head it shuffles its way down around his jaw line in the rough form of a beard right to the tip of his chin.

His ears are high on his head and very pointy, not that that makes much difference they are still quite effective. Even to the extent of being able to hear a twig break several kilometres away. The nose is much like that of a wolf’s nose perhaps even a large dog…-large dog indeed. Letum’s face is hard and feral hard set as a frown forged that way over the many, many years of hardship and misdeeds he has done. Not to mention the taunting and harsh environment he had to live in being an outcast (would you have anything to smile about?). Letum’s face is quite angular and forward pointing, possessing a maw full of deadly yellow shaded fangs that jut out slightly over his lips but if needed can sheath away into his gums.

The appendages, the most vital and needed part of any living creature. This monster’s arms and legs start rippling with muscle mass, and then start to slender out as they near the hands. His hands are completely normal just like a regular human…but with razor sharp claws jutting out from the tips about a centimetre or two in length…But, the fingers are different only slightly not much just more elongated then normal. Becoming even snake-like in nature, do not be fooled raw power rages within his iron grip despite the frail looking digits. On the other hand, they are longer then normal, spindly being the best way to describe them. Conversely, they are quite powerful not losing any of their functionality or purpose, the added length even helps more with detailed work and hard to reach problems…during combat it even adds and extra reach for those wicked claws. As an effect of this, a whipping action is added doubling any sort of pain and damage done to an adversary.

Further down, uh-hum, is a tail not much to speak of, like the rest of his fur covered parts it is scruffy and tufted. His tail hangs down just above his knees which if you think about it is quite long. Letum’s feet however, are just as a wolf’s should be though slightly longer with a small…claw-like extrusion on the heel, his feet also possess just alittle misshapenness to them.

Letum (pic 1)

Letum (pic 2)

Personality:
Letum is immoral, abominable and down right malevolent. This Onikage does not follow the trend, he doesn’t just fight for supremacy he also fights to kill…in his own mind, everything deserves to be brutally punished for the way he was forced to live. He hates his own kind and any other living thing. Due to his shunned past and outcast ways, he will attack anything that gets in his way, anything that makes fun of him or exaggerates his appearance…hell he will kill anything that is living. When he kills Letum will finish with a ritualistic display of devouring, gorging himself on his ‘victim’ until nothing but the body is left and the soul is destroyed…The soul being the heart in most cases. In the form that he is, Letum is extremely animalistic acting in a predatorily even primal instinct regularly, when he fights he uses his claws and fangs nothing else, unless need be…if he must he’ll use a weapon preferring the gigantic axes and cleavers that do massive amounts of damage and maximise the amount of blood spilt.

Lying alittle, Letum doesn’t entirely despise his kind, his heritage…by blood it means nothing but in honour it is what he is. All he wants is acceptance from his people if that happens he may be alittle on edge and mistrusting but he will be happy to be apart of a tribe or pack. Letum doesn’t tend to talk much, when he does it is focused on hunting and the gory details of eating…perhaps even a mad rant of some wild feral way. His speech is hard to decipher with the way his jaw is shaped some words slip and slur even becoming completely new words all together. Also he isn’t entirely a bastard destroying all and consuming it if a ‘dancer’ is deemed worthy he shall talk to them perhaps even try to befriend them…more then likely just for his own gain, or for that fact acceptance is a weakness of his.

However, if Letum is defeated in battle the victor isn’t treated with great respect and admiration. But scorn and disdain are showered upon them, as said before Letum doesn’t follow tradition seeing that it would only end in his public humiliation becoming a freak and jester once again. This said he will try with all his might to fell his defeater at any cost necessary not stopping until he rises above and beyond. Therefore, if you want a challenging rival Letum would be your man...err, beast.

Letum takes pride in dealing pain and suffering to all, almost in a state of blood lust Letum will torture his victims, prying off limbs even extracting organs while they live. Regular and orthodox methods are used in torture but very lightly, as they tend to be boring and softer then the Onikage way. There is nothing quite like the sight of a damned soul having to witness their body parts being taken and then grafted to someone else…even having their loved ones fed to them brings a giggle. Being from a different dimension has opened the ‘mutant’s’ mind up to various different things that concern torture, death and power.

Like all Onikage, Letum believes in hard work and great power, he will settle for nothing less as power and domination are the ways of rule in hell and in his clan. Intense methods of training happens on a regular basis so if Letum were to meet anyone who didn’t see his morals or beliefs they would be swiftly dispersed in a bloody spray…or tormented for the rest of their life…uh, death. Nevertheless, like noted before Letum doesn’t entirely follow a strict code that his brethren adhere to, he does have his own ways of doing things even believing them to be better then his pitiful shunner's approaches. Taunting is a great way to receive an opponent, belittling every aspect of someone and testing them, the dog warrior has found quite pleasing when he fights. Presenting different dimensions to play apart in the outcome…almost torturously bleeding out knowledge, technique and even blood from an enemy.

Letum’s roll in hell was to make the lives of all the damned as miserable as possible getting them to do slave work and generally hold great and brutal dominion over them. So as a habit of this, he tends to keep a slave or two, driving them beyond their limits and treating them like cattle… Disregarding their wants or needs and only providing further immense harshness when they fell… He would take on more minions but during his time in hell and his own damning, he was not allowed to do much of the big work as the other colossal Onikage did. The dog fiend would steal lagging spirits and whisk them away to a secret area where he could work on them. He would study the various scenarios his betters did and modified them, only because he had a lot of time on his hands.

Alignment: Evil-Chaotic.

Weapon(s): Nothing but his teeth and claws.

Skill Type: Chakra Master

Fighting Type: Custom (Black Watcher)- The Fighter of this type tend to be calm and collected fighters probing their foes during battle, doing their best to dodge and not make contact (unless on the odd occasion when an opening presents itself). During the course of a fight, the Black Watcher will use taunts and tests to get their foe to make mistakes- even unleash their fighting style making them more open for reading. When a sufficient enough tactic is absorbed from the fighter's opponent he/she will unleash a blur of fury, unrelenting and savage until which point in time they fall- the fighter will not let up until then...more then likely being underhanded and ruthless during this period.

Zenni: 1,000z

Stats

Power lvl: 3,000
Strength: 1,000
Endurance: 1,000
Int: 1,000
Will: 1,000
Ki: 1,000
Speed: 1,000


Attacks:
- Wail of the Banshee -
What is the first thing you think of when a wolf-like animal is spoken of? Terrible howls of pure terror piercing through the night sky, little children awaken spooked in their beds to echo the howl with cries of their own. In response to those cries house hold pets may call out aswell, a dog bark, or cat meow all contributing to the wailing melody. What creature could possibly cause such a disturbance? Who else but Letum, a feral beast of unfathomable nightmarish prowess…a creature of another dimension, something not natural.

Being an Onikage, Letum is blessed with a multitude of horrendous abilities…some even spurned from that fact he is a mutilated wolf man. The innate ability to howl as if something formed in dreams of course would come naturally for him, it even worked as a means to torture the damned for all eternity…especially the way his vocal cords work. Lifting his head in a baleful howl Letum can disperse his enemies in an instant, filling their heads with painful echoes of screeching torment. Swirling within their brains a suffering that cannot be described, what you can see though is the recipient reeling in pain flailing about on the ground clutching at their heads trying to tear out the insanity within.

This kind of torment drives one to kill themselves, if it does not kill them instantly in the first place. Of course, if you are deaf a fate less then death is suffered, only a mild headache strong enough to cause head cramps. For this attack to work the recipient must be less then half of Letum’s current powerlevel…and within the hearing range of course. If you are out of range, you may escape with a tremble in your boots episode. The only other way to survive is to stop Letum from howling in the first place…or by not being there.

- Enervation -
When you are stripped of nearly all your power and your memories torn from you…what do you do? Whatever your master wants you to. This attack is one of the most venerated of the entire vast arsenal the Onikage possess. If anything were more vital for their slave trade, it would be this attack. Trying to beat down your captive so that they are more pliable to your will requires a move that will bring them down to size, remove all defense capabilities they have. Leaving them vulnerable to your command and a willing soul is the best kind of soul to have.

Letum likes to utilise this move in battle aswell not just slave work, he has proved quite the tactician that way. This attack removes half of all of a players stats, it also causes a wave of amnesia to wash over them so that they forget every single attack and technique they know, save for punching and kicking. Once a player is subdued, the ‘hunter’ can do as they wish preying on their now weak victims. When three posts from each player are made this debilitating effect shall wear off within time…but by then it would be too late anyway.

- Implosion -
The classic belief of the word implosion for many is a sudden violent inward collapse or compression. In most cases, this is true for the Onikage aswell, but seeing as they are from a different dimension with a completely unnatural life style one can expect certain differences. Letum as a young monster took great interest in this particular attack, though he does favour a great many of the Onikage abilities but this one is the most dramatic. Thusly he worked hard to control it and gain the appropriate amount of effect when using it to maximise the damage dealt. To the unseasoned reader this would seem to be dull and barely have any difference at all to the definition. Rest assured it does deviate…

Lunging his great arms forward, the massive tree branches that they are he slams both fists roughly together unleashing an electric blue bolt out into the distance. The bolt shimmers across the landscape until a suitable distance is reached, then in an almighty flash the attack implodes creating a powerful vortex of destruction. Like a phenomenal vacuum cleaner, it sucks in everything within the near vicinity tearing it asunder when contact is made. All living things within the vortex instantly die suffering great and unbearable pain, unless they are strong enough to survive they may only escape with a tortured mind and body…leaving the vortex not as they were. Weaker and drained beings are left for the mercy that Letum can bestow upon them.

To survive this perilous situation you must be either stronger then Letum’s current powerlevel or no less then half. If you do fall less then what he is you are surly doomed, and shall receive more punishment in the afterlife from his brethren.

- Storm of Vengeance -
As always every attack developed by the monstrous Onikage is devastating and obliterating. This attack is no acceptation, make no mistake it is vile, horrid and down right cruel to whoever is on the receiving end of this torture device. Fear and power is what the Onikage base their lives on as they have to because of the slaves they control… And to keep up their respectable title. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to feel the wrath of god himself, or something like it? The beasts of hell have something for you to sample but more dastardly.

When stories of fire and brimstone come plummeting down to earth, acid rain and thunderstorms, people believe that the almighty creator of this universe is to blame. This of course is not true, why would such a being waste their time…No the Onikage are the ones at fault when havoc and mayhem are out and about. Usually the tyrant Onikage, that being Gmork is the only Onikage to use such a destructive and powerful attack. However, in the back lands by himself Letum practiced hard day in and day out to try and imitated the one that ruled over him. Eventually a very weak and somewhat small variation was successfully created.

The user thrusting a fist into the ground initiates this attack; if he/she is unable to then a palm thrust to the sky, then making a clawing action while dragged their hand downwards will also do the trick. Once either is done the sky turns black and soot the air becomes still and cold. All life seems to vanish entirely even the landscape becomes obscure. Then it starts…Lighting stretches itself down to the ground, showering itself over everything. Then a downpour of acid drenches the scene engulfing everything with its corrosive enzymes. For every moment a fighter is trapped in the effected area, they receive 100 points of acid damage. In addition, if their speed is not up to scratch (Less then Letum’s) an additional 200 points of lighting damage is dealt.

- Ogdru Jahad -
The seven gods of chaos only fitting that someone from hell, a place of pure chaos and havoc should use such an attack. Letum took great pride in studying these great deities and learned all he could of what they taught. If it were to be called a religion this is, what Letum would have nothing else; of course, it is that he despises anything that is divine, and good…. Nothing that has a moral obligation to the lower species should have great strength. They should at least be able to fend for themselves; much like the Onikage do-, they would not have it any other way mind you.

To execute this special move Letum merely outstretches both his ‘main’ arms to either side as if he were to embrace someone in a gigantic hug. Two spheres of energy are cast into each hand, then two more manifest themselves in his other ‘secondary’ arm’s hands leaving the seventh to growth within his gaping maw. After a moment and a flash of colour all globes are released at once at a target. From there they track and chase until which time they are cheated of their goal or actually achieve it.

Each orb represents an element as chaos is incomplete without them, Air, Water, Metal, Aether (or Ether), Fire, Wood, and Earth. In addition, each of these seven elements possesses a colour unique to them, Air being Yellow, Water Blue, Metal White, Fire Red, Earth Black, Wood Green, and Aether being purple. This completes the ensemble making for a remarkable sight. Alternatively Letum’s two ‘secondary’ arm hands may ‘rapid fire’ all seven at once giving a good surprise attack making sure to keep fighters on their toes.

- Tongue Lasher -
Ever see a horror film where a poor defenseless victim is cowering away in a corner while a monster advances on them? A long and slender tongue snakes its way from the vile and hideous creature while it smiles sinisterly. A sliver of drool trails from the disgusting and slimy thing, suddenly it begins to caress itself across their skin leaving behind a vile sludge while she wails and moans in displeasure and fear. Well, this is straight from the textbooks and quite handy when used to subdue slaves or soon to be servants.

The tongue can lash out like a whip restraining an arm or leg, even the torso whichever is easiest or caught first. In retrospect with other movies and thinking on a different tangent, this lengthy implement of humiliation and personal damage can be also used like a spear piercing through flesh and bone. Working just as well if not better than the whip method. Strangely, a coating of acid seems to be apparent on the powerful muscle, adding to the pain and harm an implement such as this can do. But wait… There’s more! Not only can this amazing device, cook, clean, and control slaves! It also makes for a grand torture method aswell, whether by lathering acidic slime all over them in a taunting fashion or in a plain investigative manner, it is sure to get the job done. What a bonus! What a deal!
...A favourite among dirty little Onikage.

Techniques:
- Fear -
Fear, the cause of many great books and movies…things dredged up from our nightmares and phobias. It freezes our bodies, like puppets on a string you cannot move unless commanded or something happens and you flee. Your brain is numb and all rationality is removed. Your legs are like jelly, you feel cold…but not really, and some how you tremble uncontrollably. What could cause such a reaction? A master glaring down at his slave, certain death, a ghostly visage, all this and more.

Letum tends to have this effect on people normally, the condemned spirits he must enslave…even normal beings jump at the sight of his unnatural form. Like all good slave drivers, he endows a lot of fear in his underlings and slaves. Just his mere presence warrants an immediate cowardice, respect is laid down and they obey him completely. Due to this uncanny skill, every five posts an opponent or anyone speaking with Letum and not allied with him has to endure mind numbing fear overriding all actions that they can be made. To survive this, a staff member has to role a d6 die, anything above 3 they cower away even fleeing to safety.

- Dominate Person -
To dominate a slave properly one must be powerful and overbearing, strict rules and regulations are laid down for the underling to follow- if they are broken harsh punishments shall set things straight. All Onikage know this even the lower orders and outcasts…Letum has made special note of such a fact forced to do so through his upbringing. Taking note of his appearance and ghastly features one can automatically tell he is used to giving orders and running people through the mud, he has worked hard at this for years.

Through hard work and diligence to gain, his ‘ambience’ the presence his emits is one that will drive any to be a loyal and faithful servant. As a result they will follow any command he gives even receive torture with unwavering obedience until such time they regain their conscious thought and rebel against him. An opponent must survive a d6 die roll anything lower then four they become devout followers of Letum and subject to anything; he wishes to submit them to.

- Claws of the Abyss -
I do not know about you but I have always wondered how the villain or monster in a horror story or film manages to get around so fast unnoticed. I have come to realise it is special powers…like magic, Letum too has come to show what a creature spawned by horror is truly capable of. Coming from a different dimension with all these fancy abilities never seen before by anyone normal his claws have to be for more then just show and tearing prey limb from limb.

This is true they do serve another purpose; Letum is after all from another dimension where anything is possible. Staying true to his horror-like visage he has to be able to pop in and out of places unnoticed and undetected…. but how? I will tell you. Charging his claws with that all-powerful negative energy he possesses not to mention the element of darkness, he prepares for an extraordinary feat.

Swiping his claws through the air fast enough creates a rift in space and time, the abyss as it is called. It is only temporary and will disappear after a short period of time, be wary you might get trapped for all eternity in a great void of nothingness. Parting the shreds of fabric known as time Letum steps through vanishing completely leaving no trace of where he was or where he may appear. Suddenly a flash and cosmos grade tearing noise is heard the beast only from your nightmares appears out of nowhere snarling in your face. This travel can be anyway…from our perspective it is almost instantaneous but for Letum it may take several hours to get into position for reentry.

- Sammael the brother -
Sammael, the lord of the shadows the hound of resurrection, a minor fable monster that caused a whole lot of trouble for the people of earth. As this technique suggests Sammael is a brother of the Onikage…or more specifically a spiritual aide to them. This connection grants a powerful regeneration capability, broken bones, torn ligaments, even lost limbs are instantly repaired…with alittle manual readjusting of course. This physical intervention generates a horrid cracking noise, and of course a lot of pain aswell. For one post, it forces the user to drop into a defensive stance so that they may recuperate for the next part of battle.

The only way to stop such an action from happening is to incinerate the brother Onikage before he/she has a chance to regenerate and come tearing back at you. Can you do it?

- Swift Ghost Pack Barrage - (SGPB)
a pack of wolves is often a quick and calculated group, efficiently bringing down their prey with ease so that they may feed. This technique mimics that ability to communicate and move about, surrounding and then dropping the intended victim. However, of course the factor of being from a different dimension…mainly that of a horror dimension comes into account. For Letum it comes in a different image and approach then the normal orthodox way, he is by himself naturally so he cannot be conventional to a pack tactic that requires numerous amounts of participants.

Instead his speed is increased slightly, his façade blurred and shrouded by a mystical cloud and afterimages. For this ability to work Letum merely has to attack an opponent after a deep breath however, he then suddenly lunges forward, a trail of his actions following his progress. The afterimages not only follow him but also act out certain possibilities of attack against the prey, confusing them to no end of course. A strange dusty cloud with float about his image aswell and puff out whenever a connection is made to the victim…a strange after effect of this technique.

This power only lasts as long as Letum can hold his breath, keeping in mind he is exerting himself a great deal physically so breath is vital to his functioning. But for the mean time unless the opponent is fast enough will be totally at this ravaging maneuver.

- Ingestion -
Remember back in Letum’s personality where after he kills, he ritualistically consumes the corpse. Well here is what has developed because of his nasty and grotesque habits. It is not just tasty and fun to do for Letum but quite beneficial too, not only does it cut the cost of groceries but it also increases his over all status by a small amount each time. Letum took a liking to this so much he would eat anything no matter what it was, even if it was his own kind he would devour it. Perhaps this kind of cannibalism is to blame for such a strange and rare occurrence.

As it is known no other living Onikage has ever reported this remarkable gift, maybe because it is not normal…but then again neither is Letum. It may have taken awhile but emerge it did with very noticeable results, every time Letum eats a defeated opponent he acquires ¼ of all their power, stats and powerlevel all. Nothing else oddly is gained just those few things. But then again that is all that is really needed for such a technique is not it?

Items:

History:

Prologue

Picture me this, a clear and bright county meadow. This meadow is dotted with several kinds of wild flowers, the colours span from yellow to red to blue even pink and white jump in there from time to time. The grass is a nice kempt height and lavishly green, butterflies, and tiny gnats flutter about dreamily dancing across the gentle breeze that drifts in a succulent scent. The breeze emphasises the odors of the grass and flowers a pleasantly pungent smell, maybe even the delicious musk of some small animal. Above in the crystal blue sky...a pale pastel blue streaking across the bowl of atmosphere above. Contained within is an orange hued spot of light just alittle too bright to gaze upon for it stings the eyes leaving spots in your eyes.

The rays from this strange beacon are warm and comforting giving a glossy sheen and a lingering heat in your fur coat. Fluffy clumps of white cotton-like matter also hover about in the atmosphere where none but the flying can reach. These...clouds shift about quietly with the breeze morphing into images and shapes, even combining into bigger more shapely forms. You begin to notice figures appearing in these strange things clinging to the bowl above. A wolf can be made out of one; another is a strange spiky thing...maybe some sort of torture device. Another rolls into a rabbit...a tender juicy raw rabbit...Oh look, another is a Sla-I mean a human that leg would make a great ornament.

Slowly but surely, the images fade away into nothing leaving nothing but a serene and uneventful place, completely plain and dull with no pain or misery in sight. “Graw!” Letum gurgled exasperatedly, what a nightmare that had been. There was no torture or anything not even a decent hunt to be found. He shuddered slightly feeling a cold moisture scatter off his scruff, now that he had calmed down alittle he heaved a guttural sigh and gently eased his head back down on the red-brown stone he called a pillow. Settling back down he jerked into a spasmodic stretch, his chops opening into a vile rotting flesh yawn. It was time to sleep again, and he did so and it was a restless and empty...

The next day,

lifting his eyelids and gazing out into the land blearily Letum spies a spout of flame welcome him to the morning. The Onikage outcast was in his den...well den of sorts, it was more of a clearing in a cave with various artifacts he made claim to even some abandoned skeletons. There was flesh still on them and had begun to rot permeating the air with a sickening odour, at least to humans anyway. Getting up out of his makeshift bed Letum strolled over to the cleaning puddle to ‘freshen’ up. The liquid inside wasn’t water, at least not anymore it had become a dirty brown-grey colour, and it sloshed about much more thicker then fresh pristine water.

Plunging his head into the unknown concoction he shook about for a brief second before reefing it out sending a shower of...water, everywhere. Kneeling back down to the pond particles of dirt and grim falling from his head fur mixed with the strange fluid dribbled back down into from whence it came. He lapped at it quenching his morning thirst, saliva and a vile sludge covered tongue churned the puddle fluffing the already putrid drink to a further disastrous mix. Finishing off with one last gulp Letum hoisted himself back into a standing position, a trail of saliva dribbling from his lips as he went, “Feed time...” the gigantic fiend mumbled to himself slinking his way over to the graveyard of corpses in the far corner. Snatching up a half gnawed arm lazily with his right hand he swung it into his gob and chomped at it idly for a moment or two pacing through his living quarters for a while.

Letum cast his mind back on the dream he had had last night, it was truly frightening, he hoped he would never have another like it. Such a place could never have existed...it would be such a garish place if it did, Letum cringed at the thought of visiting such a world...it almost ruined his appetite. He turned to his ‘bed’ for a moment, just a small space of ragged cloth and carved out earth. His pillow or so he called it was a large jagged boulder, this boulder had a multitude of scratch marks even the odd bite mark appeared here and there on it indicating how long Letum had been using it. Just above the sleeping area was a gap in the stone a window of sorts giving the freakish Onikage a view of the wondrous land of Hell.

Towards the end of his fine and comfortable bed lay the exit to his humble abode. It cast into the dimly lit room a hellfire light, acting as an alarm clock every morning. This was Letum’s place he liked it; it did not matter if anyone else didn’t...in this case many people. Because when you are a freak of nature an unnatural being everyone of your kind tend not to like the same things you do. He lives his life out in this hide away between the occasional slave snatching and routine self-improvement. Some could say it was the perfect carefree life of a monster...almost. As Letum headed through the cave portal, he cast his mind back to his past and how he had come to be where he is now...

The Beginning


Hell, a placed for condemned souls and creatures of unspeakable wickedness, there are many levels of hell but the most notable are; The river of blood, a crimson trail of lost soul’s tainted life support, the gate where the damned actually enter to follow one of four paths. The holding cells or prison for those deserving of torture, and the Onikage castle. Around the river of blood, there is a gathering of immense portions all there to witness a scared and ancient ritual. Sitting dead centre of the stream is a large but petite Onikage, a female, she lies back with the aide of four helpers while some strangely dressed beast tends to something between her legs. Obviously the Onikage woman is pregnant and giving birth, for centuries delivering offspring like this has been done seen as a sacred ritual that bestows great power to the young. For birthing, a child in the river of lost soul’s blood symbolises what they are to become and how well they will do it.

Coating them in the life fluid of those they are meant to torment for all eternity, the amount of blood they manage to drink and saturate themselves in will determine how powerful and how well they will rule. Of course, a strong vibrant drinker lathered in the crimson liquid will be a vicious slave driver ruling with an iron fist. The Mother Bellows out a hair-raising scream, the shriek echoes throughout the depths of hell laced with torture, demise and that essence that indicates the dead. This dual tone voice rings out a third time freezing for a moment in a laborious grunt and squeeze, a fourth, fifth and sixth roar erupt from her jaws in total before she falls limp her chest heaving noticeably.

A hush falls over the crowd silently muttering to one another excited about this event, like a wave of trees; they rock forward intent on the scene anxious with anticipation. After a moment the ‘doctor’ imp steps back wiping his head of sweat a satisfied smile cutting across his face with jagged teeth, stepping away he timidly announces to the gathering, “She has had a litter of six!” A hyperactive jitter shockwaves through the entire assembly, hush laughs and claims of greatness barely reach out from the banter. Each and every pup is large and beautiful all...except for one, Letum. Unlike his brothers and sisters, he is slightly smaller and more distinct with his appearance then them. For all things accounted for Letum like all his siblings was born perfectly normal without complication or anything of worry, completely normal, but his size said otherwise...but why?

Through infancy Letum grew up to be exactly like all hopes, he contended well with his brothers and out sized his sisters. However, he was sleek like a female though possessing still a fair amount of muscle to confirm him as a male...a runt, but still a male. Further into his youth he began to develop a strange growth on his chest, many of the hell dwellers taunted him for such a disfiguring formation, even his siblings poked fun, his parents only tired to make it out as nothing with worried glances to one another. Already Letum was an outcast in most things because of his too animalistic appearance looking more like a mutated wolf then a pure Onikage, examinations proved him to be ‘untainted’ what was wrong with this boy?

Life


For the first hundred years of his life, Letum had to fight hard for what he wanted. With the development of too miniature arms on his chest the antagonism grew worse, even pathetic low level demons mocked him for the way he looked...though it always ended with Letum swatting them away or ripping their head off, but that was beside the point. At the Onikage castle the fabled place of iron claw rule and tremendous power, rivaling that of the great creator. Letum was near refused entrance and a place of slave master there, but thanks to the aide of his parents, they allowed a small job for Letum to take care off... Of course this was cleaning up and only getting left over souls to torture and ravage (which of course there were none), forcing the young were-beast to steal lingering souls and horde them for himself.

-

“The tyrant lord has claimed you to be a failure in the ranks of Onikage.”

“ Let me prove myself!” came the stumbled growls of Letum in protest to the decision of his ruler and this guard, he wasn’t going to give up just, yet it wasn’t the Onikage way. Staring across at the brute of a guard the scrawny but in no way meek Letum stood just an inch shorter, maybe because he was more hunched over then normal. For his whole life, Letum had dreamed of entering the great halls of the Onikage castle and take his place amongst the strongest of his kind, to run the slaves and generally cause chaos and havoc across the realm,

“Bah! If it weren’t for your nurtures you would have been cast into the demon field by now...You may enter...grork.”

Letum snuffed grudgingly at the creature beside him, how dare he insult him like that...but it didn’t matter, he was used to it. At least now, he was inside the fortress, slinking down a massive hallway too eager to take notice of what was around him the were-beast made his way to the very end, where his fate would be decided.

-

Throughout these one hundred years, Letum took what he could and did it to the best of his ability, even getting to the point of devising his own methods when it came to pain and suffering. He was forced to these methods mainly because the other Onikage wouldn’t teach him anything; he did learn some thing however, but by sneaking about and spying on the other’s training. When Letum wasn’t harboring his lost soul collection he would travel down the demon fields, there he would knock about some of the lowly scum there, mimicking those who shunned him often...it helped him to cope really. During the series of his life there came a time where Letum had to become familiar with himself and his function, he would have to learn how to utilise the abominations that sprouted from his chest. He would become adept in the use of Ki attacks, learn to harness their power and use it for his own, he would confuse and baffle his enemies then destroy them with his ‘secondary’ arms.

At the end of the battle, he would devour them, giving him a sense of complacency and transferred strength, Letum became so enthralled in the idea of gaining the power from his enemies he started to eat each and every victim he defeated when he slew them. Bordering on obsession, he ate, devouring what he could and with blazing eyes of fury embraced the power bestowed upon him. Day and night he would train using the brimstone around him as punching bags, Letum hurled punch after punch on these incredibly tough objects until the time in which his knuckles bled. When he couldn’t punch, he would channel his inner life energy and command it to do the damage his physical form could not. It is strange that a being from the depths of hell, a place where the dead teemed. That an inner life-force could be present in one of the inhabitants, truth be told all Onikage possessed this ability they just rarely used it...seeing that it played no applicable use in unrelenting anguish and suffering. Letum only discovered it because he was alone and had a lot of time on his hands, also never receiving any formal torture training in the first place either.

Sauntering down to the demon plains, Letum could often be found playing here, it relieved him of stress and the inner nightmares that plagued his mind. The demons here served as a sort of replacement slave source, and a way for the were-beast to vent the constant mockery he received from the noble ranks of the Onikage slave masters. Luckily, in the afterlife everything was dead or suffered the rules of the dead, so when a pawn was brutally minced and their entrails smeared across the landscape, they would merely respawn a few moments later ready to be disemboweled at a later date.

Another hundred years of Letum’s life was to come and pass, as always like all Onikage and especially being that of an outcast he would train, and train, and train, and train, and train again. During this time, a particular training event was most memorable for the were-beast,

-

Letum plunged into the thick and blood red River sending out a wave twice his height, the wave surged outwards until it crashed up against the bank on either side. Tiny ripples and the occasional bubble was all that was left where the giant abomination had vanished. The bubbles then began to increase in number and concentration until finally Letum erupted from the depths of the river, blood soaking his fur coat. He shook himself off and began to swim some laps. Stretching out one arm and then plowing it back down into the crimson rivulet quickly taking into stride a swimming style of sorts, looking quite awkward for a lengthy being with a bulky anatomy. Up and into the blood, up and into the blood he went gaining pace as he reached the one hundred metre mark, sloshing about he turned and headed back the other way regaining his speed in the process. One hundred metres was reached again and the same sequence was followed, this went on five more times until Letum grew bored with just the backwards and forwards motion.

Diving down to the bottom of the stream, he dug himself into the rocky bed at the bottom. There he began to search for something, more then likely, a carcass of some pathetic demon, turning to the right he swept forward holding his breath. By now it began to hurt restraining his lungs from their natural workings, soon they would feel like they were about to explode but Letum would ignore this. Turning his thoughts back to his search the hideous were-beast spots something in the murky distance; it had to be a dead body. Kicking himself towards the figure, it was a demon corpse a four clawed gash across its face revealed the reason as to why it was down here...it had crossed an Onikage. Taking a hold of the body Letum hoisted it above his head. There he planted his feet on the soft earth and commenced to push himself to the limit. Naturally while a demon was, alive it would weigh roughly 70kgs at the least but this cadaver had been decaying at the bottom of this river for quite some time. Never the less the blood surrounding the Onikage outcast and the body created resistance enough to make it feel like the original weight had been retained.

Forcing his arms upward Letum heaved the demon upwards treating it like a dumbbell, or whatever that thing was that spirit had said. Lowering it down again, he rested it on his shoulders, another heave and it went upwards again. Continuing this was quite tough, seeing as how Letum was unable to take a breath. Slowly a pocket of air was released to his maw it morphed and rolled about in the red substance and began to float to the surface churning the water as it went. His lungs felt like they were on fire now and trying to force their way out of his chest. Another lift was attempted but this one was struggled and almost lazy. He had to stop now, Letum could not hold on any longer. Pushing the corpse to one side, he rocketed towards the air rich land above. Exploding through the thin membrane of blood on the top, he vacuumed oxygen into his lungs with an almost greedy urgency.

Latching onto the riverbank Letum puffed out slightly before hoisting himself into the air and onto the land. He landed with a thump on his knee, blood splashing out around him and falling from his body in droplets. Instinctively he shook himself down as the animal inside him would. A shower of bloody sprayed everywhere attacking some nearby ogres and lost souls, the flinched and jerked themselves away from the cascading moisture that had disturbed their evening walk/float. “Hey! Stop that!” Someone shouted, Letum looked about and snuffed at the demand. He had no care for what others wanted, why should he...no one cared about him. Heading off to his ‘home’ Letum found the treacherous creature that had commanded him to cease, it was an ogre, just a pathetic ogre. Passing the lower class being he casually raised a hand and backhanded the blue-skinned weakling, sending it twirling and spinning through the air and onto the ground regretting what it had just done.

-

Letum continued to live his life in solitude train himself and his stolen souls to pass the time; he enjoyed nothing more then inflicting pain on others. Letum tried his best to do as well if not better then his brethren when it came to slave and master. He would force them to endure savage avalanches he brought down upon them. The ones with physical bodies would have to sever their own limbs repeatedly or be devoured by their master...Letum. This self-proclaimed reign of terror lasted as long until the Onikage brutes discovered his trove. When this was done, the were-beast was often forced to start all over again, finding new ways to torment his captives.
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Cain
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Darkness Embodied, Fear Incarnate.
This is Letum's arrival on earth...enjoy?


Meanwhile,

the knife felt cold against her flesh.
As if some icy finger were tracing a pattern over her skin, the girl felt the blade being drawn softly across her cheek; the point brushed her lips, nudging against them for a moment as if seeking access to the warm moistness beyond. She opened her mouth slightly and, for fleeting seconds, she tasted steel. Then the knife was gone.
The girl’s eyes were closed, but as she felt the point gliding down towards the hollow of her throat, she finally allowed herself to gaze upon the one who wielded the blade.
He was almost invisible in the darkness but she knew that, like her, he was naked. As were the others who stood close by, little more than pale outlines beneath the dense canopy of trees whose gnarled branches twisted and curled together, rattled by the chill June wind, which whistled, tunelessly through the wood. It also ruffled the girl’s long dark hair, causing the silky tresses to writhe like reptilian tails.

She was barely seventeen but her body was shapely and belied her youth. Her breasts in particular seemed over-developed, the nipples coaxed to stiffness by the cold air. She shuddered involuntarily as she felt the knife being move in a circular pattern around her areola, brushing the puckered skin for a moment before prodding the nipple. This time she felt not only the needle-sharp point of the blade but the actual cutting edge too as it rested against the swollen bud of flesh. She closed her eyes again as the same movements were repeated on her other breast. The pressure increased and she fritted her teeth, waiting for the cut.
But she felt only an icy tickle as the cold blade was drawn between her breasts, down to her navel and then towards the dark brown bush of hair between her legs, It parted the tightly curled down, guided with unfaltering skill by the powerful hand which grasped it.

She let out a low sigh, her breath clouding in the cold air, as the knife was pressed slightly harder against that most sensitive area. She opened her legs wider, as if to welcome the blade like some kind of steel penis.
For what seemed like an eternity, it remained there; then she exhaled slowly as it was eased aside.
Opening her eyes once more, she saw the one who held the blade turn slightly, until he was facing a youth no more than a few months older then her. He was powerfully built, his head supported by a thick bull neck, which he offered willingly to the wielder of the knife. The cutting edge left an almost invisible white mark as it was pressed against the boy’s throat. However, after a second, the pressure eased and the blade found its way to his chest before plunging deeper towards his limp penis. He tensed as the cold steel brushed his organ, tracing the course of the thick veins before gliding over his contracted testicles.

A moment later, it was withdrawn and now both the girl and the youth knelt, fallen leaves crunching beneath them. They were close, within arms length.
Suddenly they caught the powerful smell, which drifted on the wind.
A goat was being led towards them by a rope tied around its neck.
Another thick length of hemp had been wrapped tightly around its jaws so the only sound it could make was a low mewling deep in its throat.
The young couple lay face down on the carpet of leaves as the goat was coaxed between them. It was held firmly by the man who gripped the knife. He now moved behind the creature and straddled it, holding the blade before his chest in one strong hand. With the other, he gripped the horns of the goat and yanked its head back so savagely he almost broke its neck.

The knife flashed forward, shearing through the animal’s throat, slicing effortlessly through muscle and sinew.
Huge gouts of blood erupted from the massive wound, spraying into the air with the force of a high-pressure hose. The crimson fluid splattered the young couple as the goat bucked madly between the man’s legs, its body jerking uncontrollably. The knife-wielder watched the white clouds of vapour rising into the air as the hot blood continued to fountain from the ruptured arteries.
From either side, figures approached, all of them men. All of them naked.

They lifted the goat into the air, its struggles now becoming more feeble as its life fluid gushed away. It suddenly re-doubled its efforts as the knife-wielder thrust his blade into its exposed belly, slicing open the flesh sac with one powerful movement.
Intestines burst from the wound like the bloodied arms of an octopus, huge thick lengths falling to the ground with a loud, liquid splat. Steam rose from the spilling entrails, the pungent odour now mingling with the reek of excrement as the goat’s sphincter muscle loosened and a stream of liquid and solid waste pumped from its writhing body.
Still no one spoke, but as if a signal had been given, the young couple rolled over to face each other.
The girl closed her eyes and rolled again, allowing herself to slide into the thick mass of viscera. She felt its warmth surround her, felt the slippery wetness of the pulsing organs beneath her buttocks. She spread her legs and waited for the boy to join her. His penis was already swollen and he found no difficulty penetrating her, for she was as eager as he. They writhed amidst the blood and internal organs, now oblivious to the choking smells, which surrounded them and the crimson fluid, which coated their bodies. They were aware only of the pleasure, which they both felt.

The man with the knife watched impassively as the frenetic coupling continued. Blood ran down his hand from the blade of the weapon and he gazed at the crimson droplets in fascination as one fell onto his own rigid penis, staining the head bright red.
He chuckled.
So much blood.
And there would be more.
He looked around at the other naked bodies in the clearing.
Much more blood.
After awhile, the young couple finally finished their frantic wrestle on the ground above the entrails of the deceased goat. Now panting and heaving they lay beside one another coming down from the elation they were experiencing.
The leader of the group, the man wielding the dagger nodding in satisfaction, it was time to finish the ritual. Coaxing the two to their feet he guided them still breathing rather heavily towards an alter. This alter was by the edge of a cliff and ornamented with various flowers and strange engravings. The girl and the youth as before followed unspoken words and placed themselves on the centre structure, a large bowl shaped dish large enough to contain both of them comfortably. Though they did snuggle together quite affectionately. An assistant came from the sidelines at that moment bearing a large urn of something; it sloshed about as it was handed to the powerful man. It was obvious by now that it contained a liquid that served some importance for what was about to happen.

The large man silently approached the two raising the urn high above his head, leaning in slightly he began to tip it over them. The pitcher slowly dribbled out the liquid within, it was a deep maroon colour, quite possibly a red wine of sorts. Little by little, the fluid splattered over them washing away the caked blood on the couple’s body. An additional ‘juice’ was also added to the mix in the bottom of the bowl from the girl. The act from before still kept her aroused and her vaginal contents began to ooze once more along with the young boys seed he had previously placed within her.

Eventually the entire contents of the jug were emptied over them cleansing their bodies of the dirty blood. Both the couple began to breathe a little faster then normal, becoming aroused once again. Now the blood, and then wine, and the bodily emissions from the girl swirled about at the bottom of the platform the couple lay on. It bubbled with an eerie unnaturalness signaling the power behind what the group was doing. A strange passion washed over the boy and the girl as they were overcome once more by desire and they linked together in an intimate coupling again wishing to seek the pleasure of before.

In a somewhat awkward position they went at it seeking higher pleasures that all desired once again. This went on for a while before they began to near the point of climax, the pinnacle of excitement and pleasure. During this time the powerful man had begun to setup behind them, his tiny dagger replaced with a full sized sword. He was on top of the bowl-like platform straddling the boy. Standing up he faced the blade point down just above the couple’s hearts, raising the handle to his face he waited...waited for them to reach the all-important place, just between full orgasm.

The grunt came from the boy throwing up the go flag for the man with the sword. With one skillful movement he forcefully impaled the sword directly through both the youth’s and the girl’s heart. Their eyes widened in surprise and invading pain, both their life giving fluid began to gush out from the wounds quickly filling the bowl to the brim. The gurgling bodies were the only noise for a time until the powerful man suddenly threw his hands into the air and shouted, “Caelum expositus!” almost immediately a gale picked up forcing the powerful man to step down from the alter and back away from the shrine. The wind continued to swirl and weave its way around the dead couple spiraling leaves around them. A spark of light jolted above them for a mere second then vanished without a trace.

The same bolt soon appeared once again but this time it expanded slightly, and then with a loud crackling noise it exploded into a wide circular portal. It was a dirty grey colour with a slight hint of red and the sound of a violent wind howling through something hollow could be heard around it. The portal was large enough to drive a truck inside with room to spare. The faces on everyone brightened as they waited eagerly for the appeared of their god. Soon something appeared, it was tall, and lanky standing hunched over, slowly it approached the entrance to the world known as earth...but what finally emerged was not what the group was expecting.

Their faces dropped in astonishment, befuddled at what had just emerged from the portal reserved for their god, wasn’t it? This creature was a hideous beast, shaped like a malformed human with the appearance of a wolf of some kind. Its blood red eyes glared maliciously out over the group. Letum was now free it seemed and with a yellow-toothed grin, he stepped forward....
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Done with this Cain?
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Cain
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Darkness Embodied, Fear Incarnate.
Nope, still going ^_^

700 more years to cover >.> Just taking awhile.
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