Post by Kalidah on Dec 3, 2023 3:45:38 GMT
“Oh dash it all! I can’t think of anything to write!”
The outburst startled Azalo from his hunt. He had been slowly stalking his prey for what might have felt like hours, if he could even tell time anymore. The Herkman had been relatively pleased with himself, he rarely had been able to maintain this level of patience while trailing his victims and it appeared about to pay off as he made ready to pounce and take his quarry down, but the shout from the window above startled him and instead of making the jump, he fell on his flat on his face. He made a loud grunt as he hit the ground, which caused his prey to turn. She saw him and let out a loud scream before running off.
“Help! Someone help me!”
“Help,” Azalo grunted, as he climbed slowly to his feet and watched her flee, “Someone.”
The Herkman looked up at the window and scowled. Whoever it was up there who had shouted had caused him to miss out on a feast. It was rare that any of the guests at Hotel California were foolish enough to be outside at this hour, especially alone like this one was. If the person up there had waited just a few heartbeats longer to shout, Azalo would have had his hands around her throat and…
“Help. Someone.”
Whoever it was, they would pay for this. Azalo was really hungry now and that made him angry. Pickings had been slim as of late. The guests had grown weary, and so were the rats. It was enough for anyone to have desperate thoughts. Looking up at the open window, the Herkman picked his lips and smiled evilly.
“Help. Someone.”
Azalo quickly formulated a plan. Crawling around the corner, he found a tree which grew near the wall and climbed up. From there he was able to crawl out onto one of the branches and ease himself onto a windowsill. Adrenaline coursed through his body as he gripped out to the wall of the hotel and began slowly making his way back around the other way, one windowsill at a time. It was only when he reached the last window that he realized his mistake, there was a six foot gap between the sill and the corner of the building, and the window he sought would have been another six feet over from there on the other side.
“Help. Someone.”
Azalo crouched there for a time and weighed his options. Planning things was not a Herkman’s strong suit, they were better at following orders and doing the rest on pure instinct, but Azalo wasn’t one to give up from a challenge. If his mind had been clear enough to consider it, he would perhaps have realized why his master and mistress had chosen him, rather than Nizbel, to enter Pollo Road’s Hijo Invitational Tournament. He was stronger, faster, and just a little bit smarter than Nizbel, and perhaps just a bit more crazy.
“Help. Someone.”
Studying the wall, Azalo from spaces between the bricking just wide enough to get his fingers between. Smiling, he found a pair of hand grips and pulled himself off the windowsill, while bracing his feet against bricks below him. Slowly, carefully, he managed to ease himself around the building, brick by brick, hand grip by hand grip. He was tenacious. He was determined. He was smart enough to realize if he fell now he was probably going to break something and become someone else’s meal. That thought alone helped him make it to the windowsill. Azalo was no one’s meal. He ate other people, people didn’t eat him.
As his feet landed softly on the windowsill, and he managed to gain his balance to steady himself, he heard the voice from within.
“No, no, I don’t want to mail this in! This is absolute garbage! Garbage I say!”
Azalo began to smile. The very person responsible for him missing out on his meal, was about to take her place. All he needed to do was wait for the right moment to spring in and jump on the unexpected fool. He could practically feel his fingers around the man’s throat and hear the man’s bones breaking in his hands. All he needed to do was wait just a little longer. Just a little longer.
“Help. Someone.”
From within, he heard a door open and someone gasp. A feminine voice began to speak.
“Oh there you are, my tiger. What are you doing in here?”
Azalo froze, he recognized that voice. It was the voice who sang his praises when he and Nizbel crushed their enemies and brought her presents of their hearts and livers. It was also the voice that screamed at him when he disappointed her time and time again. It didn’t matter what name she went by, or what other people called her, Azalo only called her by one name.”
“Mistress?”
Oh shit. If that was her in the room, then that meant the man he had risked his own neck to get to this window in an effort to attack was.
“Sorry, my dear,” the man said in a jovial tone, “I’ve been trying to put pen to paper, as it were, and needed a quiet place to do so. Dash it all though, I can’t seem to come up with anything to write.”
Oh fuck! It was him. It was the master. Instantly every bit of bravado Azalo felt was gone. He no longer felt like the great predator, no comparison to the beast inside the room behind these curtains. The Herkman realized immediately he was in danger. This was probably what a ferret felt like, trying to steal a few bones from a cave, only to realize the tiger was at home and very alert.
Instantly, Azalo began looking for a way to get down safely from the window. Climbing back around the outside wall no longer felt like a viable option. He was feeling weary from his efforts and so hungry. Something inside his mind told him he wasn’t going to make it, that he was better off just jumping to the ground and hoping he broke his neck for a quick death.
The Herkman was still considering his options when an impossibly strong hand reached through the window and pulled him inside. Azalo screamed and covered his face.
“HELP! SOMEONE!”
His panicked screams were met with loud laughter. There was cruelty, or anger behind that sound; in fact it was jovial. A hand reached down and softly patted Azalo on the back and stroked his hair.
“My dear boy, what a loud racket you’re making. What were you doing out there? We can’t have you hanging out on windows like that. You could catch your death of cold out there.”
“Or drop to your doom,” the feminine voice added, with a touch of malice.
Azalo shivered.
The man laughed again and kept stroking his hair.
“Really, my dear, you really shouldn’t scare him like that. I have such big plans for him and his brethren. Big, big plans.”
Azalo felt the man grow closer and heard him whisper into his ear.
“Azalo, my dear boy, are you feeling hungry?”
Instantly, Azalo opened his eyes and looked up into the smiling face of his master. The red bearded face was grinning down at him .
“Help. Someone. Hungry.”
The man stood up and laughed. Turning to his wife he grinning widely and gave her a wink.
“There, you see? The poor lad is absolutely famished. No doubt all my yelling earlier ruined a bit of fun for him and he climbed up here to investigate. Could you please go get him something to eat, my love? Preferably something alive and kicking.”
“And no doubt screaming,” she added, no doubt picking up on why Azalo was repeating the same two words.
She left without another word, leaving Azalo alone with his master. The man wasted no time in helping the Herkman to his feet and brushed him off.
“Don’t worry, my dear boy, you’ll soon have more than your fill of meat. We can’t have you going into battle on an empty stomach, now can we?”
Azalo grinned back at his master, his stomach beginning to growl again. ‘More than your fill of meat’, he liked the sound of that.
“Help. Someone.”
His master laughed even louder and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Yes, Azalo my lad, you are definitely going to help someone. You’re going to help MEZA. He’s almost ready, Azalo… I can almost taste it. Of course, we should probably prepare you for the others, especially my dear old cohort, AJ, but MEZA is key here. You are going to help him unlock the monster inside him whether he wants to or not.”
Azalo heard this and began to cackle.
“Help! Someone!”
His master smiled, this time a bit wider and his fangs began to show.
“Splendid, my dear boy. This is what you’re going to do…”
The outburst startled Azalo from his hunt. He had been slowly stalking his prey for what might have felt like hours, if he could even tell time anymore. The Herkman had been relatively pleased with himself, he rarely had been able to maintain this level of patience while trailing his victims and it appeared about to pay off as he made ready to pounce and take his quarry down, but the shout from the window above startled him and instead of making the jump, he fell on his flat on his face. He made a loud grunt as he hit the ground, which caused his prey to turn. She saw him and let out a loud scream before running off.
“Help! Someone help me!”
“Help,” Azalo grunted, as he climbed slowly to his feet and watched her flee, “Someone.”
The Herkman looked up at the window and scowled. Whoever it was up there who had shouted had caused him to miss out on a feast. It was rare that any of the guests at Hotel California were foolish enough to be outside at this hour, especially alone like this one was. If the person up there had waited just a few heartbeats longer to shout, Azalo would have had his hands around her throat and…
“Help. Someone.”
Whoever it was, they would pay for this. Azalo was really hungry now and that made him angry. Pickings had been slim as of late. The guests had grown weary, and so were the rats. It was enough for anyone to have desperate thoughts. Looking up at the open window, the Herkman picked his lips and smiled evilly.
“Help. Someone.”
Azalo quickly formulated a plan. Crawling around the corner, he found a tree which grew near the wall and climbed up. From there he was able to crawl out onto one of the branches and ease himself onto a windowsill. Adrenaline coursed through his body as he gripped out to the wall of the hotel and began slowly making his way back around the other way, one windowsill at a time. It was only when he reached the last window that he realized his mistake, there was a six foot gap between the sill and the corner of the building, and the window he sought would have been another six feet over from there on the other side.
“Help. Someone.”
Azalo crouched there for a time and weighed his options. Planning things was not a Herkman’s strong suit, they were better at following orders and doing the rest on pure instinct, but Azalo wasn’t one to give up from a challenge. If his mind had been clear enough to consider it, he would perhaps have realized why his master and mistress had chosen him, rather than Nizbel, to enter Pollo Road’s Hijo Invitational Tournament. He was stronger, faster, and just a little bit smarter than Nizbel, and perhaps just a bit more crazy.
“Help. Someone.”
Studying the wall, Azalo from spaces between the bricking just wide enough to get his fingers between. Smiling, he found a pair of hand grips and pulled himself off the windowsill, while bracing his feet against bricks below him. Slowly, carefully, he managed to ease himself around the building, brick by brick, hand grip by hand grip. He was tenacious. He was determined. He was smart enough to realize if he fell now he was probably going to break something and become someone else’s meal. That thought alone helped him make it to the windowsill. Azalo was no one’s meal. He ate other people, people didn’t eat him.
As his feet landed softly on the windowsill, and he managed to gain his balance to steady himself, he heard the voice from within.
“No, no, I don’t want to mail this in! This is absolute garbage! Garbage I say!”
Azalo began to smile. The very person responsible for him missing out on his meal, was about to take her place. All he needed to do was wait for the right moment to spring in and jump on the unexpected fool. He could practically feel his fingers around the man’s throat and hear the man’s bones breaking in his hands. All he needed to do was wait just a little longer. Just a little longer.
“Help. Someone.”
From within, he heard a door open and someone gasp. A feminine voice began to speak.
“Oh there you are, my tiger. What are you doing in here?”
Azalo froze, he recognized that voice. It was the voice who sang his praises when he and Nizbel crushed their enemies and brought her presents of their hearts and livers. It was also the voice that screamed at him when he disappointed her time and time again. It didn’t matter what name she went by, or what other people called her, Azalo only called her by one name.”
“Mistress?”
Oh shit. If that was her in the room, then that meant the man he had risked his own neck to get to this window in an effort to attack was.
“Sorry, my dear,” the man said in a jovial tone, “I’ve been trying to put pen to paper, as it were, and needed a quiet place to do so. Dash it all though, I can’t seem to come up with anything to write.”
Oh fuck! It was him. It was the master. Instantly every bit of bravado Azalo felt was gone. He no longer felt like the great predator, no comparison to the beast inside the room behind these curtains. The Herkman realized immediately he was in danger. This was probably what a ferret felt like, trying to steal a few bones from a cave, only to realize the tiger was at home and very alert.
Instantly, Azalo began looking for a way to get down safely from the window. Climbing back around the outside wall no longer felt like a viable option. He was feeling weary from his efforts and so hungry. Something inside his mind told him he wasn’t going to make it, that he was better off just jumping to the ground and hoping he broke his neck for a quick death.
The Herkman was still considering his options when an impossibly strong hand reached through the window and pulled him inside. Azalo screamed and covered his face.
“HELP! SOMEONE!”
His panicked screams were met with loud laughter. There was cruelty, or anger behind that sound; in fact it was jovial. A hand reached down and softly patted Azalo on the back and stroked his hair.
“My dear boy, what a loud racket you’re making. What were you doing out there? We can’t have you hanging out on windows like that. You could catch your death of cold out there.”
“Or drop to your doom,” the feminine voice added, with a touch of malice.
Azalo shivered.
The man laughed again and kept stroking his hair.
“Really, my dear, you really shouldn’t scare him like that. I have such big plans for him and his brethren. Big, big plans.”
Azalo felt the man grow closer and heard him whisper into his ear.
“Azalo, my dear boy, are you feeling hungry?”
Instantly, Azalo opened his eyes and looked up into the smiling face of his master. The red bearded face was grinning down at him .
“Help. Someone. Hungry.”
The man stood up and laughed. Turning to his wife he grinning widely and gave her a wink.
“There, you see? The poor lad is absolutely famished. No doubt all my yelling earlier ruined a bit of fun for him and he climbed up here to investigate. Could you please go get him something to eat, my love? Preferably something alive and kicking.”
“And no doubt screaming,” she added, no doubt picking up on why Azalo was repeating the same two words.
She left without another word, leaving Azalo alone with his master. The man wasted no time in helping the Herkman to his feet and brushed him off.
“Don’t worry, my dear boy, you’ll soon have more than your fill of meat. We can’t have you going into battle on an empty stomach, now can we?”
Azalo grinned back at his master, his stomach beginning to growl again. ‘More than your fill of meat’, he liked the sound of that.
“Help. Someone.”
His master laughed even louder and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Yes, Azalo my lad, you are definitely going to help someone. You’re going to help MEZA. He’s almost ready, Azalo… I can almost taste it. Of course, we should probably prepare you for the others, especially my dear old cohort, AJ, but MEZA is key here. You are going to help him unlock the monster inside him whether he wants to or not.”
Azalo heard this and began to cackle.
“Help! Someone!”
His master smiled, this time a bit wider and his fangs began to show.
“Splendid, my dear boy. This is what you’re going to do…”