Alakzyr: Infection

Abandoned...
Was it because he was disregarded as callously as a discarded piece of rubbish lying around? He didn't know... All he knew was he had more time to contemplate on life. He had a reason to make his distance, away from known civilization.

Away from the crowds...
Away from the masses...
Where he'd be safe to indulge in these urges...

Slowly, the symptoms had made their return, albeit without the cacophony of infections he had suffered prior.
The sweating...
The sneezing... Coughing... The blood...
--and as if it wasn't enough, even the hunger got worse.

The choice of solitude was the vast setting of the Sarab Desert; one where he could wander aimlessly for miles before coming across others...
Though, he ran into others far sooner than he'd come to expect.
More travelers, taking their passage on camel-back, far fewer in numbers to accommodate the far longer voyage. A just quantity for pacing, however horrendous for defense...

These... were non-magi...
--and with not prominent threat in the immediate area, Alakzyr's mind was assailed by the parasite within. It cooed to him, without a voice, but with the injected impulse. The taste for the sanguineous substance that trailed their veins... The feeling of their flesh between his gnawing maws... It was all he could think of in that moment.

... And without much further thought? He charged, taking to full sprint from behind the duo of travelers, unwary of any other individuals that may've passed through the soon-to-be scene of unadulterated malevolence.
(Alakzyr)

The boy decided to walk outside Nostvale as usual. He decided to venture into areas that were never visited by the boy. It crossed a wall that divided a desert of the green zone around Nostvale. When he crossed the wall, the boy was in the desert. He had heard of that desert: The Sarab Desert.

The boy started walking in the desert. Suddenly, he looks at his left side and notices a young man almost his age, a little older, in an unhealthy state. Worried he was helping.

"I'm James Reinhardt, can I help with anything ?!Are you ok?! You look bad. I'm here to help you, my friend!"
(James Reinhardt)

[14:37:26] Noticed?

He heard a voice not too far away. Did someone catch sight of him? Who ever it was, it certainly drew the attention of the originally unsuspecting travelers. Their heads turned to find a levitating magi... And another... Still en-sprint for them. However, it was too late for the target of choice-- Crudely tackled from uptop the soon-agitated camel. Fingers clung tightly to their apparel, and through the struggle of the camel bucking away, the diving Alakzyr and nameless traveler were fallen to the sands.

The camel set off balance stirred away, attempting to make distance between itself and the seen danger, leaving its former rider helpless to the ravenous infected. Dilating pupils reflected a man dawning loose cloth for garb against the burning sun above. A grin shown his sickly anticipation... At long last, he'd feel it again... He'd taste it again.

Alakzyr climbed up the flailing form of the man, proceeding to hold him down against the ground with his body weight before pinning them thoroughly. A panicking acquantance watched in horror, slow to land from their camel. Their reaction wouldn't be fast enough anyhow... The infected had already gotten what it wanted, and now... It was time to claim it wholesomely.

A mouth spanned open to reveal streams of pus and blood: a cesspool from the parasite within.
(Alakzyr)
[14:57:55] Teeth sunk near the prized vein, though, not quite at the jugular. Moreoff, the shoulder-region...
Into the muscle, jaws gnawed into all the same...
The splatter was far from as impressive as it could've been, but the flavor, reunited with his tastebuds had never felt better. It was hypnotic, nigh organismic-- Staining the visage with a clear indication of ecstacy...

He chewed, finally prying away the flesh from the vessel. The strain of his neck and arms pushing away at fallen, agonized prey felt immense.
They slapped... Punched... Pushed and cried...
But it made no difference.
There was no one to save them... No one that saved them.

As to the foreign presence prior, it seemingly vanished... Without a trace. One didn't know where they came from, how they arrived, or even cared why. So long as it didn't get in his way, he was content.
The sickly shear of gore and brawn filled the air, only to be overshadowed by a waning man's scream.

Their partner's blade sung their metallic song, drawing attention as their sheath was soon emptied and feet held their stance on the ground. They didn't step closer however... Hesitating... Frozen...
The common man couldn't be expecting to charge so blatantly into a battle he didn't understand the contenders of.

Was this... Fear? Of the unknown?
Chewing, proceeded to swallowing, chunk by chunk. It was hardly any substantial to the fallen figure, likely to be presumed dead, if not still clinging to the very brink of death.

The consumption was feeling stale, and the bite wound was thoroughly glazed in Alakzyr's infected saliva... But the hunger, it never truly left him. He wanted more... And in this setting, he had more opportunity. There stood, one more man... The only witness to his atrocious act...

The only one that could pose a threat to him in this moment...
--and the last one he could take advantage over whilst he was still far from civilization.
The grin that spanned across his visage at ths sight of the man's weapon, a mere dagger, shown it all.

He was going in for seconds, before he continued his journey north.
(Alakzyr)
[15:08:09] It had been hours...
No... Days...
The journey took no breaks after Alakzyr's last encounter and proceeded for the north. It felt second nature to him now... Despite the lack of powers akin to the powerhouse magi, this non-magi had something of his own: A second entity that shared his vessel.

No longer was he alone...
No longer were they alone...
They had found company... No...
They -made- company.

They came, as they were... Still dawning the gouge wounds of their bites on their bodies. Their forms falling pale, albeit their movements sluggish and exhausted. Alakzyr himself felt revitalized, albeit sullied in their blood. Together, the new trio moved in tangent for the north. Though, they couldn't help but slow down, catching ear of... others...

One could catch the scent of others...
Others that he had yet to taste...
Others, that had yet to share this blessing...
The ungifted... The feeble-blooded... The catalysts.
He couldn't help but salivate at their presence, but he kept his distance...

Those that accompanied him laid their distant eyes upon the near group... Their mouths fallen agape to relinquish vocalizations of their agony: Moans...
Their limp figures seemed reminescent of reanimated entities, contrary to their apparent leader, misguided by their movements against the many forces of momentum and gravity-- Constantly off-balance.

The people nigh such stronghold, were being watched...
(Alakzyr)
[15:17:32] "M- Mister... do you happen to have some water?"

Finally, without even telling his adoptive parents, the young non-magi managed to leave Nostvale wearing the best resistant of clothing. He had been saving his entire life to buy such nice garments, and he looked stylish in them too. The thirsty looking boy approached the hooded man, just wanting some water after that long trip.

He had been travelling for a month, and even got lost. Luckily, some shaman guided him towards the right path. He was jealous that non-magi could get across the Sarab so quickly, and he almost had to die for it.

"I'm from N- Nostvale... I'm very thirsty."

There was dryness in his voice, clear that he was dehydrated.
(Akriel)
Approached from behind, he heard a voice. It asked unto him for something: Water. It caught him off-guard, but not once did he flinch at it. It beckoned for him though, slowly turning his head over his shoulder to reveal what was cloaked beneath the shadow casting hood. What was seen, was the crimson stained remnants across his chin from his last meal.

The other bitten two took their turns as well, however, their facades were far more notable than Alakzyr's own. Their skin... Deprived of their healthy glow, to portray a morbid alabaster sheen. Their flesh, clammy... Drenched in their sweat..
Persons, clearly disorientated through dizziness and a cacophony of other symptoms, drunken on their new infection.

The initial host however, seemed far more composed than his counterparts, radiating a pungent stench that kept them close.
"Nostvale is... pretty far... Far from here." He stated outright in monotone; a slow grin melted across the exposed portion of his bloodied face.

"Though, I suppose. We both have a problem then... I'm... Thirsty too..." Alakzyr, had his voice. He could speak... He could think...
It was a phenomenon considering what he had suffered prior; no longer devolved into a mindless thrall to this sickness, akin to any maddened lesser daemon.

"Perhaps... You could help me... Help us " He claimed, pivoting with a single swiveling step, whilst those that accompanied him made their first, lumbering paces in Akriel's direction." So that I can help you..."
(Alakzyr)
[15:39:44] Strange. The man before him seemed odd, but there nothing magical about him. Somehow, despite his eerie remarks, Akriel felt comfortable. A smile was brought to his face as he wiped the sweat off his brow.

"As long as you're not a Magi, I'd love to help! Because I hate Magi. They're all selfish and entitled, acting superior to normal folk like me."

A naive boy he was, but his hate for Magi burned even stronger than that.
(Akriel)
[15:49:58] Perhaps, his remarks did not put the man off, but it felt incredibly strange how comfortable they were in the face of bloodied figures. Especially the few that showcased signs of their bodies being chewed open to bleed and transcend the spectrum of color to define it as thoroughly infected.

Though, Alakzyr lacked signs of this, it was clear to see who the biting culprit was. The blood, now dried across his face made it explicitly notable. The rhetoric that followed from Akriel earned no immediate regard. The infected simply were in no state to comprehend a word he spoke... Instead, they lumbered on, closing in on apparently misguided Akriel before taking to a stumble.

Their movements seemed to fail upon themselves, forcing the two aside from Alakzyr to take upon a light trot, more resembling a take into a clumsy jog. Their arms were extended out, as though hoping for an object to balance themselves off of: Akriel himself. However, their faces shown no form of content nor mischeif... Merely, emptiness. Devoid of any emotion aside from suffering... Agitation... And with parting maws that were linked within by strings of pus, mucus and blood, their true intent seemed clear.

To tackle their newfound prey... To bite into their flesh...
To taste this man and satisfy the man-eating urge that troubled them so maddingly.
To spread the contagion...
Alakzyr, though he himself was eager to satisfy himself with the taste as well, was far too preoccupied. A troubling flex from within badgered at him, forcing up a coughing fit.

The splatter of blood and vile mucus surged forth, threatening to speckle upon the unsuspecting form of this traveler.
(Alakzyr)
[15:58:30] "What the-.."

There was absolutely no time to react, the lavender haired boy was going to unsheathe his measly blade but he was no Magi with lightning fast reflexes. He was tackled immediately, falling on to the ground as this parasitic man dug his teeth into Akriel's exposed neck, making him scream in agony and despair. If one looked closely, they could see tears flow down the boy's cheek. He was on the ground, unable to due anything and rendered immobile by the man. Blood dripped down his neck, and his screams were relentless.

Finally, after a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, the screaming just -stopped -. Akriel was in a small pool of blood, but his expression showed nothing. Even his scelera was grayish, along with his pupils. But one thing was certain... he wasn't dead.
(Akriel)

=========================================================== Hiccup in Scene ===========================================================

Alakzyr stared at the recently bitten, observing their fallen form. Another two bloodied infected idled nearby, staring blankly into the horizon. The question could boil down to 'why'...
Why was he the only remotely conscious one? Why was he the only one capable of controlling himself? Did it have something to do with being the first to contract it? No... it couldn't have.

He couldn't remember those times... Something must've happened. He couldn't have been special, could he? Did that encounter with Quazla change that much? It provided him with a headache thinking about it, not worth the time. All that mattered now, was that it still irked him, and he, unlike the rest was relatively whole. At least, for now...

He felt the strings of his sanity being slowly tugged away. The lust for more damned him further, resulting in the further growth of his small group. No longer bound to a total of three, but soon to be four! But of course, it wasn't enough...
They needed to be more. It felt like the incoherent voicings in his head demanded of it. It felt paramount to everything-- As though survival instinct demanded of it.

Though, there was always the fear... The fear of eradication... The fear of being incapable in the face of stronger, formidable opponents. This fear, allowed him to stray from abnormalities... Though, as it persisted...
As it longed onward, one had to question to themselves. Was the fear... Truly a means of preservation? Or was it an inhibitor to their capabilities?
(Alakzyr)

Inside Akriel's mind...

"I can't let you... do this!!"

All there was in this... alternate world... there was nothing but darkness, with Akriel in the middle. He couldn't move and he could only struggle as ethereal strings pulled him farther and farther from the light. It was horrific. Scarier than any nightmare...

"LET ME GO. PLEASE!"

Of course, there was no point in struggling, the boy was being dragged so far that the light was nothing but a speck in the black void that he was in. It was too late.
In the real world, anyone could see the boy violently shaking and even having a seizure of some sort it seemed. His mouth was foaming, with blood still dripping down his arm. Then suddenly... it just stopped. The boy was still.

Was he dead? No... far worse than dead. Perhaps he was... infected.
(Akriel)