Xye leapt, simultaneously heating and charging her twin stingerz as she did so.

Xye leapt, simultaneously heating and charging her twin stingerz as she did so. “Death comes to you, Pheres!” she screeched, landing mere hairs-breaths behind her prey. She immediately leapt again, trying to catch him mid-air.

The purple-skinned mutant growled, bounding in mid-air off the carcass of a rusting tower of ruined autos. He reversed his momentum and slammed into Xye’s yellow-and-black carapace in the empty space above the arena.

The crowd went wild.

He was inside the reach of her stingerz now, but not her mandibles or her deadly abdomen sting. Xye wrapped her arms around his back, locking one stingerz over the other and tried desperately to plunge the venom-laced, two-foot long hollow spear into the mutant’s flesh.

“You will die, foul thing! I'll find my freedom from the DeathDome!” Pheres spat. Two massive claws shot out from the odd otherworld device on his wrist and plunged into the completely surprised Xye.

The wasp-woman screamed, golden blood flowing from the deep puncture in her slender waist. Pheres's brutal attack had nearly severed her in two. She answered the mutant’s sting with one of her own, driving her abdomen stinger deep into his thigh. Her glassy eyes glittered with instinctual hunger and learned pride as she pumped the viscous venom into his flesh. 

It was now the mutant’s turn to bellow. He did and the crowd responded in turn with a titanic roar of their own.

The two combatants slammed heavily into the bedrock arena floor, long-since stained black with the combined blood of those countless thousands who died within the gladiatorial arena. Neither of the normally lithe beings managed to dodge or roll away any of the momentum from their fall--they both hit like wet sacks of concrete.

Thousands of voices all around them went up in a titanic wave of adoration and approval of the show...and in arrogation of it's continuance.

Pheres groaned, spitting blood out of his mouth and nose. "I...will...be...free...beast!" Each word was ripped, kicking and screaming, away from the pain inside him.

"You are a fool, Pheres! You will never be free! Listen to the crowd!" Xye paused, drawing breath in past her weakly flexing mandibles.

The purple-skinned mutant did as his opponent said and perceived the crazed faces of the throng around them. The mob was indeed mad for blood, and realization slowly began to dawn.

Xye continued, the words coming in ragged rasps, "They will drink you in like a flagon of water and toss the ruined husk away when you are spent. Mark my words, mutant, I may die here this day, but you will die here in a day soon to come."

Like a sinking ship, the truth of the Wasp-woman's words finally hit the bottom of Pheres's brainpan. His pale blue, pupil-less eyes widened with the inexorable weight and inescapable actuality of it all. He growled, pushing himself up from the bloody bedrock. Slowly, painfully, he began to crawl towards his opponent.

The crowd, sensing the coup de grace to come, cheered louder and louder with each of the purple-skinned mutant's unrelenting movements.

Pheres clapped a thick hand on Xye's thin neck. The Wasp-woman flailed weakly, golden life-blood gushing, but it was a foregone conclusion.

The savage swarm of the DeathDome leaned forward collectively, almost holding their breath as one, massive, bloodthirsty beast. It was as if they were straining to hear the crick-crack of Xye's neck breaking.

"No one is dying here today," Pheres said, his odd golden tattoo flaring to life. With a grunt of effort, will, and mystic energy, he leaped...

Then, both he and Xye where just...gone.

Art Source: "Wasp Warrior" (c)/by Enigmasystem

Story and Characters: (c)/by Brannon Hollingsworth, Pheres (c) by Corey Blankenship

#MMWW, #Makes, #Me, #Wanna, #Write, #BrannonHollingsworth,  #dimensions, #Freekrok, #Makes, #Me, #MMWW, #paranormal, #Pheres, #Wanna, #Write, #Xye, #WaspWoman, #DeathDome

My name is Fuscata.

My name is Fuscata. I am the defender of Jigokudani, what some in the distant past have named "Hell's Valley". Once, this was a place of peace. Once this was a place of spectacle. Now, these mountains are a place of conflict. The cliffs drip with gore. The rivers run red with blood. Monsters roam freely and destroy all that is in their path. Now, this place is truly Hell's Valley.

My master, Macata, told me that this was not always the way. The ancient writings here seem to support his stories. Macata told me that the change began with the Rain of Rock. Macata said that the sky torn apart and the strange stones fell from the heavens. Macata said that many called them freekrok, but I do not know why. I know only now that the land is not what it was. The waters are not what they were. My kind are not what they were.

But now, I patrol the edges of my home. My goal is to make it peaceful again. Only I, and my whispering blade, Zenko, stand in the gap. I will slay any who come to my borders. I have lost too many to the claws and the fangs of the horrors that stalk these mist-and-snow-shrouded peaks.

None shall enter my realm.

Art Source: "Saumray" (c)/by volkanyenen

Story and Characters: (c)/by Brannon Hollingsworth

#MMWW, #Makes, #Me, #Wanna, #Write, #BrannonHollingsworth, #Freekrok, #Fuscata, #Jigokudani, #Zenko, #Macata

Most people learn via crawl, walk, run. I jump.

Most people learn via crawl, walk, run. I jump.

I always jump.

First, it was jumping into houses engulfed in flame. Then it was jumping out of planes to combat forest fires. Then, I jumped through the inferno to reach that smooth slab of rock. All because the veins in it glowed. That's when I changed. I didn't just jump from place to place.

I jumped right out of reality.

Now I'm adrift in this place full of stars, mists, and monsters. You'd think I'd want to go home. But here's the thing. I can't go back to being me. I'm different. That stone or this place did something. I'm part of something more. If I do make it home, I'm not going to stand by and let the monsters there keep pounding on my people. It's time someone stepped up and took the fight to the invisible fight.

This place I call Nowhere changed me. I can see those who hide, and I've found or made all types of tools to fight them. My journey here hasn't made me less prone to leaping. I've become quite the hunter-of-tears as the locals call me.

You can call me Pheres.

Art Source: "Kairth" by OakKs
Story and Characters: (c)/by Corey Blankenship

“You asked for a report of the Savage Lands, and I have given it”

“You asked for a report of the Savage Lands, and I have given it” Grrawl said, standing before the Circle. He had little doubt what the cowards—the non-hunters who made up the Ruling Council of his Tribe—would say, but he did not dishonor himself by speaking his thoughts.

“And the Circle thanks you for your service” Snnaat replied glancing to his Circle companions to his left and right, his yellow eyes finally coming to rest on Grrawl. “But we must disagree with your assessment. We do not feel that a settlement of Wolvn in the Savage Lands is a wise use of the Tribe’s time and resources-"

Grrawl could not contain the deep, basal growl that bubbled up out of his scarred and armor-covered chest; it came instinctively, interrupting Snnaat’s obviously rehearsed speech. The hunter now knew that it did not matter what his report had been, the Circle had already made up their mind.

“-at this time,” Snnaat continued, swallowing.

“This is foolish” Grrawl barked. “Our Tribe flounders and weakens by the day. There is little to hunt here, and we can only eat these…meals…the Circle gives to us. Wolvn must hunt if they are to be Wolvn!” The hunter raised his obsidian dagg and svvax, displaying their masterful workmanship. “Even now, our cubs loose the skills they need to craft and wield the weapons of our kind - weapons that once made the Wolvn Tribe the greatest the world has known!”

Snnaat’s upper lip curled with the Wolvn equivalent of a frown. He had known that this one would be trouble. Even though he had no concept of the Circle’s larger plan, this meddlesome hunter was too close to the truth of their plot for comfort. Snnaat had to act quickly and craftily. “The Circle hears your words and we agree with you, Grrawl. Yet, you also touch upon our greatest concern. Our Tribe’s numbers are few. To risk so many to the Savage Lands would be risky.”

“Risky? RISKY?” Graawl snarled in frustration. He shrugged his left shoulder, causing the Chiirg scale he wore as a cauldron to hop up and down. “Was it risky to fight the mighty Chiirg to the death? Yes! Yet, it was done! Was it risky for our fore-sires to break the shackles of their bondage and settle the land that became the Tribelands? Yes! Yet it was done! Wolvn need risk to thrive!”

Snnaat looked to his companions around the Circle. He could see the message written across their muzzles. ‘Get rid of the troublemaker.’ A deliciously wicked idea crept in behind Snnaat’s yellow eyes and took root. He nodded, as if in deep consideration. Finally, he spoke. “Your words ring with truth, great hunter Grrawl, and they have stirred my blood. The Circle has decided that you and your sires shall move into the Savage Lands. We wish you good hunting.”

Grrawl was shocked. This was not what he had expected. He had expected to receive permission to forge a whole new era for his kind. What he had received was tantamount to a death sentence.

The Circle departed, murmuring to themselves.

Grrawl was certain he saw Snnaat smiling.

Art Source: "WOLF Warrior" (c)/by el-grimlock
Story and Characters: (c)/by Brannon Hollingsworth

#MMWW, #Makes, #Me, #Wanna, #Write, #BrannonHollingsworth, #Wolvn, #SavageLands, #Snaat, #Grrawl, #TheCircle, #TheTribe, #Freekrok, #Chiirg