Heir of Lightening

Prologue.

Greg staggered back falling to one knee, his broadsword clattered to the ground as he let go of it, he ignored the pain from his throbbing leg. It was dark and neither could he see the pool of blood left by the gaping hole in his leg, his eyes were focused forward.

His hand tightly held the scroll he had been entrusted with, he was the last one who remained, they were a party of four sent out to report the rumors that had been heard around the borders of The Blackened Lands.

The team leader Scar, had given him the scroll, commanding him to deliver it to the clan while they held off the unknown, a creature of Chaos long thought to be banished to the depths of the underworld, his attention snapped back at a sudden movement. 

He hadn't expected the attack, yet he couldn't have evaded it. He was certainly sure he didn't have long to live if he kept dawdling about, his eyes kept searching through the thick fog, and then he caught a sudden movement to his right.

He instinctively rolled over to his left, dodging a lethal attack. He looked back to the position he had been in prior to the attack and what he saw... 

Perhaps he wasn't seeing well, he hoped he wasn't seeing clearly, the ground itself had melted, turning into a thicket of swirling mass, as though it had changed, transformed into something from the children's books that his Nan read to him decades ago.

Damnation!

He crept closer, his eyes were not deceiving him. Whatever swirling mass lay on the ground before him, looked like coagulated blood, changing its form, swirling, creeping, moving, searching for life it could latch itself onto.

He looked back at his leg, his chest tightening in horror at the sight, the flesh surrounding his wound had gotten thrice as big. He panicked, trying to stem the leg, cutting it off if need be. He reached out to his boot to draw his knife but stopped.

A sudden realization dawned on him, his eyes darted to the bubbling mass of Chaos beside him, then back to his gaping wound. He chuckled, understanding the severity of his situation.

Cutting off his leg wouldn't do, it had festered deep into his body.

He was losing blood at a rapid rate, the creature that attacked him did so with its blood, and now that blood ate away at his flesh. Struggling to control his breathing, Greg saw a silhouette slowly approach him.

"Who's there?" He shouted but was replied by the dominating silence of the forest.

"What are you?" He thundered, he knew he would not be answered, but hearing his voice helped him keep his sanity. Yes, he had to persevere.

"Were you sent by Scar?" Greg grunted in pain, raising his voice daringly, the silhouette stopped suddenly, then melted into the fog.

Greg squinted his eyes in an attempt to find the figure he had seen earlier, he was sure he had seen it, he wasn't running mad. He turned around, observing the environment, looking for a sign, any movement whatsoever.

A deathly grip held him from behind, it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, it wasn't physical, his soul was being damaged, and he could feel it, the vice grip of death.

His eyes widened in horror, he struggled to turn around, but he couldn't move a muscle, he struggled for a few moments before gathering up his soul energy, he would suppress whatever it was with his soul power, after all, he was already at the expert level.

Gradually he could feel the grip lessen and drift away as if it was never there, Greg took deep breaths in quick succession, air had never felt so precious to him as it had in that moment.

"Damn it, what are you?" Greg coughed up blood, unknown to him the Fluxxara that had been whirling about on the ground before him, immediately reacted to his voice after coughing out a mouthful of blood, shooting towards his face at lightning speed.

Greg reacted a second too late, the Fluxxara latched itself onto his face immediately burrowing itself into Greg's eyes and mouth, Greg struggled and shouted, he ripped at the Fluxxara, throwing chunks of it away from his face but it persisted.

The Fluxxara found its way into Greg's body, as soon as it made contact with his innards and the blood of Greg, it began absorbing his life force at a blinding rate.

Greg shrieked in pain as he held his torso, trying his best to contain whatever was in him with his soul energy but it was useless, it kept on eating him from the inside. 

Greg coughed out more blood and spat across the cold ground, his blood seemed unnatural to him, the taint of darkness mixed within it.

He felt the soul circuits in his body, trying his best to maintain control over his body but, he knew, it was already too late. His soul core was damaged, his tempered body had been ravaged inside out, his heart and lungs, intestines, liver. Everything was ravaged by the monster that devoured him. 

He watched as his veins blackened, his palms grew grey, and he felt the last essence of his soul core diminish.

Greg used his last strength to tear off a chunk of his flesh with his teeth from his palm, then drew the symbol of his clan with his blackened blood, one last time he paid his respects to the clan, his spine bent at an odd angle, impossible for any human to achieve and snapped, immediately killing him as his eyes too blackened.

The possession was complete.

The corpse of Greg stood up with a devious smile etched upon its face, it staggered as though it wasn't used to its new body but it looked very satisfied, slowly it healed all its injuries returning back to Greg's natural state, the only difference was the low guttural sound

that came from it's throat, it was anything but human.