Blood Of A Morbid

 Like I promised, Here is a short story by Hyrum McKay:

Blood Of A Morbid

Content warning: This contains blood, death, and other gruesome effects. Read at your own risk.

Morbid - an adjective typically referring to something related to death, disease, or the darker aspects of life. It lingers in the mind and the edges of hopelessness—something of particular violence, something sickly, unnatural, decaying.

Trux remembered the bellowing, the deep breath booming at each laugh. It sounded like metal clashing with stone, the cold imprint scraping through his spine. The dream was unsettling; it would not shake off him, like a shadow in his mind, always there, even when light was present.

Trux sighed through his wolf snout, the breath gliding past his sharp fangs. Looking towards the dead wasteland, laying his head down, fur neck touching the wall's cold, smooth stone surface. He could see the dead patches of grass and rubble scattered over the flat terrain. Dead weeds lay barren, with dark clouds looming overhead. It looked frighteningly similar to the dream; the thought of the dream never seemed to push away fully. Parts were scattered in his mind like patches of paint that were smudged off. The sound of screaming metal scraping on stone and blood. “And then darkness,” Trux thought. “It always ended in darkness.” Trux himself wasn't sure why they had started happening, but he had a small feeling it had something to do with his markings. 

Trux was a dark gray wolf with spotted tattoos inlaid on his skin and fur. Black and dark gray circular spots resembling ones of a cheetah covered his whole body. One long black stripe darted near his forehead, leading to the top half of his back and finishing at the tip of his tail. Most of the other wolves had simple designs of swirls and lines printed on them, making Trux’s design rare.

The horizon sun had started peeking its head over the land, shining a bright hue of green. Trux got up from his resting position and looked at the obscure sight. In the far distance stood something else, something very familiar. Trux could not pinpoint why it was so recognizable. It appeared as a small black dot directly in the middle of the clearing. Trux's thoughts raced inside him. Was the sight of this real, or had his mind made things up? Without knowing, Trux started to squint, the black dot was moving slightly back and forth, wavering in the background. There was a long moment of pause to decide on what to do next. The dot was taking form, its figure getting bigger.

Trux was told to sound the alarm if anything unusual happened, but he hadn't thought that an animal would actually break in. Why had he been the only one to see this? Trux turned towards the stairs that led to the city wall's interior, the torchlight shining through. Trux ran down them. The room was warm and moist with the smell of rotting food, old barrels lying on their side, their hinges rusting over. One red wolf was sleeping near the wall. Trux ran over to wake him. 

“What.” The sleeping wolf said, opening one eyelid to examine Trux. 

“Uh,” Trux replied, unsure of what he was supposed to say. The wolf got up and stretched. He had black swirls that went through his red fur and was slightly smaller than Trux, but his expression made the difference in his size. He was rough, seeming as though he had seen his fighting days. His face had one small scar that opened on his lip. 

Seeing that scar brought Trux's mind back to the subject. “Summus, sir, there is something you might want to see.” Summus stopped stretching, paying no attention to Trux, and marched past and up the stairs. Trux awkwardly followed

Summus paused when he saw the creature. Its shape was not larger than a wolf and was covered in black feathers. A green fog had started emerging from the distance. “Jisah,” Summus cursed, turning his gaze to Trux. “Why did you not sound the Alarm?” 

“I thought that…” But Summus did not listen; instead, he started howling loudly. Almost immediately, guards started running up the stairs. There seemed to be more than three dozen in a matter of seconds.  

“Alright, let's go, everyone. Get the archers,” Summus shouted. 

“Load the archers,” One of the guards shouted. Wolfs started running upwards, loading floating bows with yellow glowing arrows. 

“Had those been there before?” Trux said, but was promptly ignored by guards passing by him. In a matter of seconds, the walls seemed to turn into a war zone, and Trux was standing in the middle of it.

“Hold position until I give command.” 

“Yes, sir,” all the guards chimed in. Summus turned towards Trux 

“If anything happens, you know what to do, yes?” Trux looked at Summus' expression 

“What?!” Trux replied in shock, 

“Alright then.” Summus turned toward the guards 

“Who wants to go down there and investigate.” With these few words, all the guards suddenly stopped their tasks, looking directly towards Summus in bewilderment. Summus grinned. 

“Na, I'm just kidding,” Summus said. 

One of the guards nearest to Summus blinked. “Really,” he said, a smile forming. 

“NO!” Summus shouted, “Now which one of you?” 

“Me,” one of the guards said. He had brown fur and was inlaid with swirls of black markings, making almost leaf patterns. 

“Who will accompany Vireo?” Summus said, looking back into the crowd of guards who, cowering, seemed to get smaller every second.

“I'll go alone,” Vireo said. 

“These ones are too scared anyways. They'll be dead weight.” Vireo started to walk down to the walls without permission. Summus turned his gaze towards the two nearest guards.

“Scarf, Drive, open the walls enough for Vireo to get through.” The two guards nodded and started to follow Vireo down. Summus looked at the rest of the group. 

“And for the rest of you, back to work.” The pack started to shuffle and scurry as they then again started to take their place.

Summus looked at Trux, who was now the only one near him.

“You, Trux, what's your name” 

“Uuuh Trux?” Trux said

“Well, Trux,” Summus started, walking until his short imposing figure was right in front of Trux.

“You're with me” Summus said, then turned towards the outside of the wall. The air felt thin, cold, and plain. Trux could see green fog that had leaked far away from the horizon, forming thick clouds of green now touching the ground floor, but not daring to go around the dark bird that stood in the middle of it. Trux could see, on the edge of the wall, Vireo's red fur leaving the safety of the city.

It looked as though the ground was trembling under Vireo when the large doors rubbed against the ground as they shut behind him, coming to a loud thud that echoed, latching shut. 

The black bird was just standing there, only a couple of yards away, with small amounts of blood dripping off its beak. Vireo walked forward, a cold, gentle breeze coming down to his fur. The green smoke was pressed against the ground, drawing nearer to the creatures. Vireo had stopped a couple of meters away from the bird, kneeling his head down to better examine what was happening. 

The figure seemed frozen, not wanting to move his face, which was looking at the floor. No visible injuries seemed present, but he was covered in blood, fresh blood dripping down from his feathers and head. 

Back at the fort, Summus brought his tail up, signifying to the archers to aim for the bird. Trux's legs felt like they were burning inside, his head heavier. “We're going to die,” Trux whispered. 

Summus squinted towards Vireo. “You bet that right.” Summus said in the same hushed tone.

Down amid the green mist, Vireo's dark inlays had begun to glow faintly, and his fur started making a small humming noise before shining bright shades of green. The lights reflected off the bird, illuminating his full picture. 

It was horrifying; scars lay out covering his entire face and body with deep inlays of blood and tissue. The bird's eyes were ripped out, causing the blood to pour from his tears and then his beak. 

Vireo took a small step backward. The cold breeze now felt like some claw creeping along his spine. The green smoke had started moving in again, brushing against the dead weeds and earth, vanishing them from view. 

“Who are…?” Vireo said. “Why…?” but he stopped; the bird chuckling under his breath, 

“It's too late. I was too late,” the bird said in a ruffled tone, “Tell your people to…” But the bird was cut off by his own gagging out of blood splashing onto the floor, the ground drinking it up, letting the liquid seep through its cracks. The green smoke was now under the bird’s talons, brushing against his feet, covering parts of him from view. It crept upwards, covering his wings. The bird’s eyes shot open; Hollowed empty sockets facing towards Vireo. 

“It's morbid,” The bird said. The green smoke was going over the bird and vanishing him from sight. 

Vireo backed away. His chest was pounding inside him. His legs felt like they were stuck in tar, and his green markings had started glowing brighter from his panicking, getting hotter.

Vireo turned around with wide eyes “He…” He tried to shout, but his breath left him. Choking towards the floor, feeling his lungs twitching and his insides squirming, the green gas had begun to seep into the pores of one of his legs, and his green inlay markings were now shining much brighter, the humming had turned into vibrating, getting hotter, attempting to stabilize. He tried to suck air in, tried to move, but everything was numb with burning on the inside. Only a gagging sensation came. His eyes were watering out as the walls of the city began to blur. He collapsed onto the ground, each limb twitching; his tattoos grew brighter wherever the smoke touched. The fog started to move around onto his legs and knees until it touched his face. 

Vireo tried to scream, but blood started to pour out from his jaws with more violent twitches. His legs started kicking in the air, and then he stopped struggling. His eyes relaxed, his expression gone, going completely limp. Soon after, the gas had covered him completely from sight, vanishing him in an instant.

Looking down at all this, Trux could feel his legs shaking. Vireo was gone from sight; he was gone. Trux turned towards the guards. “Get him back in here,” he said, but none of the wolves seemed to move; all the archers seemed frozen in place. “We need to get him back in,” Trux shouted. “There still could be time-” But he stopped, not knowing why the guards seemed frozen, turning his gaze to see what was in the thick mist. 

It was him; the dark figure that stood in Trux’s dream. It was ginormous, blurred from view, but unmistakable. It stood taller than the walls, nearly three stories tall. Trux’s head seemed to be pounding large amounts of blood, banging the inside of his head. Summus' brave expression left him as he looked up at the dark figure. He too was terrified. 

And then it happened, a dark loud laughing noise boomed into the city walls, breaking the silence, reverberating off every building, trembling the ground. Trux knew this laugh. The same one from his dream. The same one that had been lingering at the back of his mind, at the edges of hopelessness. Trux’s heart was now thumping, pounding on his ribs. He was sure he was going to faint there and now. 

Summus turned slowly, facing towards Trux. Summus lowered his head and said in a faint whisper 

“Run.”

Trux bolted down the stairs, not looking back, running to the inside of the city. The green smoke had now suddenly burst past the walls, falling into the city. Trux could hear guards yelling behind him, some screaming, others coughing out blood. There was no time to think nor scream. His entire body felt like it was panicking. Trux could see the green smoke forming around the edges of his eyes, it seemed like it was moving ten times as fast as he was. It consumed everything in its path. Suddenly, the circular markings on Trux had begun to glow a faint blue.

“No,” he thought to himself. 

“Not now, not yet.” Trux could feel the small vibrating, the coulours forming on his forehead slowly marching down to his tail. His energy was begging to be used. But Trux kept sprinting, kept running uphill, trying to keep his distance. 

Trux could hear a roar beginning behind him, claws scraping stone, scraping flesh. The green gas now was almost at him, visibly shown on the edges of his periphery. The dark loud laughing boomed again, this time getting louder. Trux's vision started to unfocus; his breath tasted of blood just before… 

“Now!” he thought. Every inlay, every spot on his fur bursted out coulours of blue, and Trux bolted forward in fast acceleration. Turning into a blue haze; cities and buildings blurring past him. His speed shot out so fast that his feet were barely touching the ground. Trux could not think, his panting and energy was rapidly getting used. All Trux could do, all Trux knew what to do, was run.

It took Trux a small moment to realize when and where he had landed. Trux was at the highest point of the entire city; the center with their sacred statue of a deer. Turning, he could see the green fog rapidly building upwards, surrounding every corner.

The statue was what you would call beautiful. Its imposing figure seemed to be looking beyond, to protect its citizens in dire need, to stand for them. Its antlers held different jewels, hanging at the ends like Christmas ornaments, dazzling with colours of emerald green, red rubies and sapphire. 

“Lysandra” Trux called out. 

“If you can hear me, your people need you” The smoke was only yards away and started surrounding Trux from every direction. Drowning the city in it. Covering every inch in green darkness. Trux turned towards the statue one more time. 

“Please!” he yelled. “Lysandra, please,” but no response came from the statue. Instead, there came a sickening chuckle. Trux’s fur felt colder, slowly turning around like he was stuck in mud.

The green gas stopped building upwards. The huge black figure was emerging out of it. Large feather-shaped scales covered his entire body. Two heavy wings were crawling on the stone floor. Its head was laid low, showing one large black beak that breathed out green smoke, dark soulless eyes darting towards Trux’s. Muscular legs with sharp talons supported the back, which held a long snake-like tail that was quivering back and forth. Circular horns come out from the back of its head.

“Finally,” the dark figure spoke in a deep, crackling voice. “I've waited so long for this moment.” The beast looked up to examine the stone deer sculpture, passing Trux as though he did not exist. Large feathered wings shook the floor every time the creature took a step.

“Stop!” Trux said in a loud voice. The figure stopped, fixated on the statue before its head suddenly turned to face Trux.

“And who might you be?” The figure said with a small grin forming. Trux took a step backwards. 

“Um,” he tried, but his throat felt like it had something lodged inside of it. “Um...” he whimpered. 

“Come on.” The bird's wings landed on the floor, making a large thud; scales wavering back and forth, “Speak up, I can't hear you very well.” 

Trux gulped “Trux,” he said. 

“Well, Trux. Do you know what I am?” The figure started to move slightly towards him. 

“You’re Morbus.” The figure seemed amused by those words. 

“You are right,” He said, lowering his beak to examine Trux in full. “How would a small mammal like you know that?” 

“Uh…We learned about you in history.” Trux held his breath, hoping that Morbus would believe him. His large, deadly black eyes looked directly at him, examining him for one long moment. 

“Interesting,” He finally said, turning around back towards the statue.

Trux felt numb inside. His legs felt like they were made out of clay. Sweat was pouring out of his head. His throat now felt like there was a giant lump on the inside. 

Morbus got up from the floor, his wings leaving the ground and tucking themselves in; his entire weight supported by his talons. From this view, Morbus seemed to be a giant bird regardless of his horns and tail. 

Morbus then brought one of his claws up towards the deer's neck, digging one talon into it and scraping downwards.

“Very fine statue,” Morbus said, digging deeper inside the deer's chest “I saw this place long ago, before it was shut up by you little freaks. You animals fear death. I find this very poignant; arrogant even. This statue here was placed 200 years ago by a false god.” 

Trux’s pale expression fell slightly into curiosity, 

“She called herself Lysandra.” Morbus continued. “This place was made to keep your kind far from the eyes of animals like me.” 

Morbus' claw stopped when he felt something beneath the stone, his eyes widening. “Although not for long.” Morbus started digging around the surface, nudging a small piece of metal that seemed inlaid around the deer's chest. 

“You had no idea how easy this was. Your wall was built to defend against animals like you. They could have never imagined a wyvern of some sort to breach it. They just could not see.” 

Morbus’ claw had gotten around the small object inside the deer’s chest. With that leverage, he started pulling the chunk out. Immediately, the statue started to crack. Lights of purple and green started glowing from inside the crevices. The fissures started at the chest and gradually crept to the back. The deer's eyes were glowing. The very essence of the statue seemed to grow brighter, until a gaudy masquerade of pure light shot out, splintering the statue into hundreds of pieces, flying in every direction. Rubble soon littered the floor where the statue once laid. 

Trux felt a surge of grief inside him. Their sacred statue was gone in a matter of seconds; dead now on the floor as dirt and rubble.

Morbus now held a small metal piece in between his talons.

“You see this, little wolf?” Morbus said, turning his talons to show Trux the piece he now carried. It was small compared to Morbus; only a paw’s length. Trux had never seen it in such detail. Black metal combined with strips of gold intertwined all along it, and a dozen rings surrounding the center held one small black gem. 

“This is what real power is,” Morbus said. 

Trux caulked his head “Why haven't you killed me?” 

“Oh come on,” Morbus said. “Do you really think I would let some filthy mammal like you live?” Morbus gave a small chuckle. “No, the amulet needs a blood sacrifice in order for it to activate.” 

With one claw holding the amulet, Morbus fully got back down to his wings, landing on the floor with a quake before moving forward. “I knew there would be at least one of you who would run like a coward.” 

Trux started to back away instinctively, but he stopped right before his feet were about to touch the dark green smoke. Holding himself at the edge of the hill, the dark shadow invaded over him. 

Morbus placed the dark amulet gently onto the floor before getting to his feet. His giant claws supported his entire weight. One came out and grabbed Trux, completely surrounding his neck. Trux squirmed, but Morbus' grip was incredibly strong. Morbus slowly carried Trux by the neck until he was level with his face. 

“Death’s not so brutal. There's worse ways of going,” Morbus said. 

Trux looked up. He gave a small struggle for breath amid Morbus’ claws. The night sky was covered in dark clouds; no light getting through. Trux then closed his eyes, hoping that his moment would end. The unsettling sharp claws covering his throat, the pain he was feeling, and the small vibrating on his back. 

“What is this?!” Morbus said, turning Trux’s body to the side to view the wolf’s fur glowing bright blue. The humming started with a sizzle before suddenly shooting out a massive radiance of blue light. Morbus shouted, releasing the wolf. Trux instinctively landed on his feet perfectly. 

“Impossible!” Morbus shouted, looking at his claw stained with his green blood. 

Trux looked astonished at what had happened. 

Morbus turned, darting toward him. “You think”, he said, his voice enraged. “That would stop me. That could stop me.”

Trux instinctively looked down, the amulet carved from the statue was covered in Morbus’ green blood, the dark gem in the middle now starting to glow. This stirred something inside Trux. Something was burning in his chest. Trux turned his gaze to face Morbus. 

“Yes,” Trux shouted, “I think this will stop you.” 

Morbus then looked down at the amulet’s glow, and for the first time, there was fear in his eyes.

“But that's impossible,” Morbus shouted, “You could not possibly know how to use this!” 

Trux gave a small grin. “Maybe you're right, but if you're not…” 

Suddenly, the amulet shot out one large transparent chain that illuminated golden light. It's end wrapping around one of Morbus’ feet.

Morbus screamed, “I will kill you for this!” The amulet started to move on its own, gliding upwards to where the old statue used to be. Morbus’s entire body effortlessly dragged along with it. 

“One more thing, Beak Brain,” Trux yelled. “I lied, I never learned that in school. It was some dream I had.” 

“O SHUT UP,” Morbus bellowed, pouncing forward, his beak wide open, green smoke about to rapidly come out, interrupted by another giant chain breaking out of the amulet, springing and wrapping around Morbus' mouth, slamming his entire body down. His front pressed to the streets’ stone, Morbus growled. His wings scraping the floor. 

Trux smiled slightly. “Have fun in eternity.” He said.

With his mouth chained, Morbus said nothing. He fought as more golden chains broke out, grabbing his wings and other talons. The chunks of rubble from the old statue had started moving toward Morbus. Morbus was dragged onto the pedestal where the deer once stood. Moving on their own, pieces of rocks and rubble started to form and clump onto the feathered figure. 

Morbus shook and struggled to break free, but the chains stood strong, designed to keep gods like him trapped. The rocks had started to fuse around him, taking his shape, climbing upwards, turning Morbus into stone. Morbus struggled, breaking one of the golden chains, freeing his wing. His eyes faced Trux directly, but soon after, more chains started coming out, wrapping around him. 

They were like giant vines, bending and pulling him into position. The stone infused into Morbus, creeping upwards, covering Morbus’ chest and wings before gradually enveloping his face and beak. 

Morbus let out one last breath before it finished covering him completely. 

Chains disappeared seconds later in a small shower of light. Morbus was frozen in stone; his position lay frozen, looking forward into Trux’s eyes. The old deer statue was now replaced with a giant Raven figure, still reaching out towards its victim. 

Trux suddenly felt weaker than he had just moments ago, breathing in deeply, air filling his lungs. 

Morbus was gone, his green smoke disappearing, dissipating into the shadows. And now, with all the damage and destruction, their city had a new statue and a new legend.

End of Legend