Sacrifice

Summary: So fell the first dogs of Noxus.
Characters: Varus
Genre: 3edgy5u (Angst/Rage)

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Amidst the licking swirls of black flame, Varus can still make out the doorway he burst through in his desperation. His home, and worse still, all of Ionia, had been ransacked by Noxian invaders, and the utter destruction of his village cast a weight upon his mind too massive for him to bear. Drunk with rage and starving for power he did not have to bring the devils of Noxus down, he cast himself into this accursed pit and felt the life within him twist and shriek as evil energies corrupted his from from crown to toe. Like the tendrils of an octopus, the flames wrapped themselves about his legs and arms, searing them into terrible, purplish black crusts of their former selves, yet somehow this burnt devastation brought forth might, not weakness.

He pulled himself out of the pit, the terrible searing within his chest leaving him gasping for breath, and with excruciating deliberation he got to his feet and reached blindly for his bow. The terrible texture of his own arms and legs greeted him, rough and still hot from the flames, and the bow itself now weight nearly triple what is once had. He looked at it through bloodshot eyes and saw that it had become a black mass, vaguely bow shaped in nature, but resembling more the vicious maw of some unholy creature. He hefted it and felt terrible energies course through it and into his arm. He searched for his quiver and yet he found nothing more than ashes.

Almost on command, a terrible, rumbling voice echoed in his head, and it spoke but a single word in a bloodthirsty tone. “Draw.” Varus did as he was told, and as he pulled the ashen string, an arrow of pure corruption materialized and notched itself. Too full of rage and sorrow to mouth his marvel at this feat, he let the arrow fly, and with a distant thud it imbedded itself into the wall of the temple. His eyes narrowed, and at once he knew now what he had to set out to do. He raced out of the temple but stopped almost immediately when he came upon a sight that left him snarling in terrible rage. A single Noxian scout had found his way to the temple, perhaps to reconnoiter the location and report that it could be safely overtaken.

He would not make such a report. With speed and grace, Varus launched a single arrow, and it flew, straight and true through the forehead of the scout who promptly collapsed, mouth agape in terror of the twisted human that had seen him. The energies that coursed through his arm came to a fever pitch and the bow enlarged itself, the maw widening and the entirety of the bow beginning to a pale red. He could feel the awful heat pouring out of it yet could not comprehend what it meant. Again, the evil voice echoed in his head. “Thirst.” Three more scouts materialized from the nearby bushes and found their fallen comrade, then Varus. Their faces set in horror at his corrupt form, they drew their weapons in fear. It was for naught; Varus let loose three arrows with inhuman speed at the chest of the first scout, and before he could fall, his body boiling over with corruption, the two had dropped their weapons and fled. They screamed at the top of their lungs for help, but were met with nothing but the advancing footsteps of a monster in pursuit.

Varus acted almost on instinct as he eyed the farthest target and raised his bow high, letting loose a single arrow that split in the air and exploded into hundreds, raining down upon the hapless target and skewering him to the ground, the soil about him reeking of corruption. In hysterics, the lone scout sprinted the fastest he could, yet Varus stopped chasing. Instead he drew the string of his new bow back, much farther than he could draw any ordinary bow, and the notched arrow began to glow. With a roar of fury, he let loose the arrow and it met its mark, tearing through the target completely and leaving it a crumpled mess upon the earth.

The vile energies within him clamored for more, and Varus could not resist the compulsion for bloodshed within him. Only force of will alone reminded him of this terrible sacrifice. The twisting energies within him would consume his body and mind, and soon the husk of a man would be left standing in his place. Before this could happen, before he succumbed to the evil within him, he would have his revenge. He would not let himself fall a moment sooner.