It crawls through the boughs; rattles the twigs, rustles the leaves. It slithers through the grass; gathers speed, gains ground – it soon creeps down into the ears of all who can hear it and then it whispers: "I am Death." There are no terrified screams at the declaration, no horrified gasps. They are pleased. In fact, this is exactly what they wanted: Their God’s full attention. And so they shall have it.
For better or for worse.
The demon lingers between worlds, half-paying attention – half-scheming to achieve its means. This is a waste of its time and it isn’t pleased with them. Its level of power has made it intangible, after all. It has no need for followers, wants for nothing and so needs no sacrifices in its name. The horses have drawn attention to themselves at their own risk and it views them as playthings.
Auschwitz is the first brave enough to move in its presence. He summoned it, after all; he should be the one to make the first move. “My lord,” the stallion murmurs, bowing as best as his inferior beast body would allow.
The demon laughs - as if their silly titles and gestures could appease it.
"I am at your service," Auschwitz goes on, oblivious to the demon's amusement.
"Are you?" It asks, chuckling. "Are they?"
"Yes," the horses gathering behind Auschwitz reply in unison, except Him.
The silver one.
The quiet one.
The demon, intrigued, drags itself towards Him. It brushes against Him here and there, little more than cold gusts of wind on an otherwise warm Spring morning. His thoughts are chaotic, His memories are not his own and the demon laughs – darker, still. So much anger. So much pain. It could use Him, yes. It needn’t ask. Before Auschwitz has time to open his sad little mouth again, the demon has forced its way into His body.
"Raped the girls, didn't they?"
Tarnished blinks, flicking back his ears. He hadn’t been expecting… this. But he can feel the creature stirring inside his head, sifting through his thoughts, and with an irritated snort he answers simply: “Perhaps.”
"Did, they did. Don't lie. I don't like liars. Tell the truth."
"They did."
"Punish them."
He glances up, gradually becoming duller behind the eyes. The others merely stare back at him in astonishment. “Punish them?” He wonders, tilting his head to the side. He isn’t sure why, but he doesn't like the looks they're giving him. It hurts, almost. Hurts as bad as the way Else had looked at him. Hurts as bad as the night he lie there while the girls screamed – he didn’t help them, he didn’t move. He just lie there, listening. Thanking his lucky stars those weren’t his sisters. That none of them were Dominion. The Percheron Hybrid settles his eyes on Auschwitz, whose lips have already curved down into a frown. His yellow teeth poke out ever so lightly over his bottom lip and Tarnished half-laughs, half-snorts. He’d always looked so fucking ridiculous.
“Him first?” Tarnished asks, eager.
The demon makes a small noise in agreement.
"Who... who are you talking to, Tarnished?" Auschwitz asks, narrowing his eyes. The rest of the cult begins to shuffle around, nervous - something isn't right, they can sense it. Something terrible is about to happen.
And so it does.
Something bubbles up on Auschwitz's leg; as hard and round as his hoof. It isn't long before the pain sets in and it begins to fill with yellow pus. It grows ever larger, his skin stretching like elastic - until it cannot stretch anymore. The skin above his right knee explodes, bursting with pus that sprays across the front of the crowd. Auschwitz's screams are lost among the screams of his brethren. The fluid from his wound causes more explosive boils to appear on each horse it has landed upon. And with each explosion of pus comes more boils, more pain. But that isn't enough.
'Death' isn't satisfied.
Not yet.
"You can do better than that," it urges.
“I can.”
Auschwitz’s screams are cut short. Gasping, he topples over and starts to convulse; foam bubbles up from his mouth and he bites the tip of his own tongue off by accident, swallows it, even – the others begin crumbling to their knees, one after the other. They toss and turn on the ground fitfully, feverish, their brains baking inside their own skulls. Foam, too, spills from their mouths and their eyes roll around in their heads. It looks on, cackling, ‘clapping’ its ‘hands’ together and cheering until it’s all over.
“Too soon,” it sighs. “Too soon. Keep it.”
“Keep what?”
“My gift.”
"How do I use it?"
"I will show you."
For better or for worse.
The demon lingers between worlds, half-paying attention – half-scheming to achieve its means. This is a waste of its time and it isn’t pleased with them. Its level of power has made it intangible, after all. It has no need for followers, wants for nothing and so needs no sacrifices in its name. The horses have drawn attention to themselves at their own risk and it views them as playthings.
Auschwitz is the first brave enough to move in its presence. He summoned it, after all; he should be the one to make the first move. “My lord,” the stallion murmurs, bowing as best as his inferior beast body would allow.
The demon laughs - as if their silly titles and gestures could appease it.
"I am at your service," Auschwitz goes on, oblivious to the demon's amusement.
"Are you?" It asks, chuckling. "Are they?"
"Yes," the horses gathering behind Auschwitz reply in unison, except Him.
The silver one.
The quiet one.
The demon, intrigued, drags itself towards Him. It brushes against Him here and there, little more than cold gusts of wind on an otherwise warm Spring morning. His thoughts are chaotic, His memories are not his own and the demon laughs – darker, still. So much anger. So much pain. It could use Him, yes. It needn’t ask. Before Auschwitz has time to open his sad little mouth again, the demon has forced its way into His body.
"Raped the girls, didn't they?"
Tarnished blinks, flicking back his ears. He hadn’t been expecting… this. But he can feel the creature stirring inside his head, sifting through his thoughts, and with an irritated snort he answers simply: “Perhaps.”
"Did, they did. Don't lie. I don't like liars. Tell the truth."
"They did."
"Punish them."
He glances up, gradually becoming duller behind the eyes. The others merely stare back at him in astonishment. “Punish them?” He wonders, tilting his head to the side. He isn’t sure why, but he doesn't like the looks they're giving him. It hurts, almost. Hurts as bad as the way Else had looked at him. Hurts as bad as the night he lie there while the girls screamed – he didn’t help them, he didn’t move. He just lie there, listening. Thanking his lucky stars those weren’t his sisters. That none of them were Dominion. The Percheron Hybrid settles his eyes on Auschwitz, whose lips have already curved down into a frown. His yellow teeth poke out ever so lightly over his bottom lip and Tarnished half-laughs, half-snorts. He’d always looked so fucking ridiculous.
“Him first?” Tarnished asks, eager.
The demon makes a small noise in agreement.
"Who... who are you talking to, Tarnished?" Auschwitz asks, narrowing his eyes. The rest of the cult begins to shuffle around, nervous - something isn't right, they can sense it. Something terrible is about to happen.
And so it does.
Something bubbles up on Auschwitz's leg; as hard and round as his hoof. It isn't long before the pain sets in and it begins to fill with yellow pus. It grows ever larger, his skin stretching like elastic - until it cannot stretch anymore. The skin above his right knee explodes, bursting with pus that sprays across the front of the crowd. Auschwitz's screams are lost among the screams of his brethren. The fluid from his wound causes more explosive boils to appear on each horse it has landed upon. And with each explosion of pus comes more boils, more pain. But that isn't enough.
'Death' isn't satisfied.
Not yet.
"You can do better than that," it urges.
“I can.”
Auschwitz’s screams are cut short. Gasping, he topples over and starts to convulse; foam bubbles up from his mouth and he bites the tip of his own tongue off by accident, swallows it, even – the others begin crumbling to their knees, one after the other. They toss and turn on the ground fitfully, feverish, their brains baking inside their own skulls. Foam, too, spills from their mouths and their eyes roll around in their heads. It looks on, cackling, ‘clapping’ its ‘hands’ together and cheering until it’s all over.
“Too soon,” it sighs. “Too soon. Keep it.”
“Keep what?”
“My gift.”
"How do I use it?"
"I will show you."
The following horses were murdered by Tarnished in order for him to 'acquire Virokinesis':
Auschwitz - leader
Raque - right hand
Demyan - left hand
Teague - cult member
Nathaniell - cult member
Andi - cult member
Oliverr - cult member
Bamm - cult member
Vuk - cult member
Renoe - cult member
Phriique - Demyan's mare
Playgue - Unclaimed mare
Jackalyn - Teague's mare
Jacquelynn - Nathaniell's mare
Pett - Oliverr's mare
Numa - Andi's mare
Neverlast - Auschwitz's mare
Happy - Bamm's mare
Grimm - Vuk's mare
Chaotic - Renoe's mare
Stitched - Auschwitz's servant
PS, the demon won't be played beyond this post unless I do a quest in the future. >_> I just wanted to kill these guys and have a cool backstory for the trait.
equus mutatio, immortality, disease manipulation, trait immunity