Post by Ragnar on Oct 8, 2018 19:54:07 GMT -6
A short story starring Ragnar Lothbrok by Uzumati
Prologue
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"Death.
Death.
Death.
Death.
Death.
Death.
Death.
Death.
Death.
Death..
There. The word is meaningless to you now."
A voice sounds. At it's most pronounced it feels like a whip against dewy skin. Slicing quickly, harshly, stinging. And as smooth as blood sliding down one's skin.
The words are the beat of a sacrificial drum rising to a scream in his mind as Ragnar shoulders his way past his brother and sister in front of him and into the clearing.
He makes his way across the clearing, stumbling as he went. Red stained the blades of grass beneath his paws. Unable to take his piercing blue eyeballs away from what lie in front of him.
A raven takes wing as he draws close, abandoning its newly scavenged prize as it swings a black eye to stare at him.
Looking down at what lay before him, lay a wolf. A large bear of a wolf. Black in color, eyes like chips off of the sun as they burned into Ragnar's brain. A voice riddled with liquid, bubbling and guttural as the wolf sputtered blood out of its jaws, staining its fangs and the grass beneath him. Dried blood crusting over the entirety of its ribs.
"Do it, son. Show me you are a true Lothbrok."
Ragnar obeyed. His jaws entered as if it was nothing, just meat, blood and bones, blasting a cavity in the wolf's neck as it burst crimson into the fading day. The wolf's face, so graceful in life was frozen, eyes open, mouth slack.
Ragnar was 6 months old.