BANE - Blue Moon

In a World where everything seemed conventional and prevalent, yet too harrowing to bear. A depraved Orphan, Ashur Bane settles on the stupendous choice to run away from Home, to find sovereignty.

What he thinks is an escape from his tortuous life, turns out to be disaster when he is tossed in a shrouded World among Mortals.

Where Supernatural Beasts exist but hide in the shadows.

And he's one of them....



Ashur's POV

The Kitchen had an eerie silence as Ashur closed the door behind him, shivering inwardly as the lock clicked in place. He took a step in the Living Room, checking if his Foster Father was Home. The only sound he could hear was the silence and the lonely sound of a buoy bell in the distance. Water slapping against the smooth, flat surface in rhythm outside the small House, with the slow creaking of wood as he walked with careful steps.

His tense face calmed when he didn't hear a voice, barreling down on him like a tormenting dictator. His muscles relaxed, but his mind was in a tizzy which couldn't be explained, despite his contentment. The days had passed by quickly after he was released, but his mind still wandered to the outlandish Detective.

There was a rush of feeling inside him, whenever he said his name mentally and it made Ashur slightly perturbed yet giddy by the notion. As if he felt some strange yet welcoming connection with the Man, who was a complete jerk albeit his concerned eyes that Ashur could still feel, piercing holes into him. The strange tingles he felt whenever he had flashbacks of the Detective, threatening his Foster Father in his honor.

An indistinct thump reverberated and his head head jerked to the left of the Room, but he sighed in relief for it was just the window over the kitchen sink, wide open; being thrusted and pulled by the wind that yelled hauntingly outside. His blood chilled as he strolled over to the window, gazing as it swiveled on its pivots with wind streaming in from outside; cooling his skin to his bone, making him shudder afresh.

An eerie feeling crept up his spine and he quickly shoved the window shut, hearing the howling slow to an inaudible tremor. He made his way to the staircase but paused dead in his tracks as a figure stood there, watching him with baleful, unearthly eyes.

His skin was olive toned and he stood 6 feet odd tall, with a scarily muscled body that gave off the impression of pure strength. His light brown, full eyes and slick, dark-brown hair that seemed healthy and vibrant. His face wide with well groomed, bushy eyebrows, a large nose, and a cleft chin with a light stubble dashed with grey. The most notable feature was the Stranger's distinctive clothes, that draped around him like something from the 20th century.

The jacket perfectly wrapped around his body with a tight herringbone pattern which gave the suit a more formal and elegant look. The 4 buttons of his double breasted jacket were all buttoned up, a pocket on either side. His pants had the same color as the jacket, but a slightly different pattern and they were a perfect match for his pair of plain toe bluchers.

He stood before Ashur, his eyes seemingly darker than they were when he first appeared as if it of thin air.

He had well chiseled features; cheekbones strong and well defined giving him a look of a greek God in a sense of the word. Ashur's gaze shifted to his legs then back to his face but the Man's eyes kept Ashur focused on him.

Chills ran wildly up and down his spine as his eyes roamed the oddly dressed, yet intimidating Man.

He just stood there staring at Ashur with deep scrutiny, as if he could see right through the Boy's very soul. Not smiling, or saying a word to the now petrified Ashur, who's side eye scoured the room for some type of Weapon.

There was nothing in the small space, except a Vase that stood with plastic flowers to the left of the tattered Couch. Polluted with beer cans and an ashtray, which gave the room a pallid and acrid smell that burned Ashur's nostrils.

He stood frozen in his place as the Man's eyes raked his body up and down, Ashur's breath hitched in his throat as the Man sniggered widely, exposing his sharp canine teeth.

The fear Ashur felt made him still as a statue, the hairs on his body stood on end and goosebumps made refuge on his delicate skin. Ashur tried screaming but his mouth wouldn't open, making the consternation in him amass to a point that it made his body avid with angst.

The moonlight danced over the outsiders confront as he advanced closer to Ashur. Moderate, taunting strides that made Ashur's beating heart quicken in his chest, pulsating hard against his suddenly constrained chest.

"You look just as I'd hoped you'd be," his voice was dark, menacing even. "My handsome Boy,"

"Who are you?" Ashur finally could speak and attempted to sound brave but the Man only smiled wider, making his way over to Ashur; his lips parted to speak yet again.

"I am Death!" The strange man snarled and Ashur gasped as the Man's lips parted and his fangs revealed them self to the frightened Ashur once more.

The Man's face began morphing into something grotesque and inhuman, sending shockwaves of revulsion, seeping through Ashur's immobile body.

Ashur reared back.

He could hear the echoes of the piercing scream eject from his throat, but before he could squint, he was sitting upright in his Bed. Shirtless, yet bathed in sweat with warmed and throbbing appendages, that made my his body jolt strangely from the icy groping that brushed his arms.

He gazed around his small, dark room, blinking as his eyes finally focused. Resting on the small, scratched chest and he blinked in wake of the shadows, casted by the darkness that surrounded him.

There was an odd dimness in the Room, that radiated a light yellowish tint which left Ashur amazed. He then looked down at his arms as his muscles pulsed and throbbed, with a burning warmth that could have started a fire in his Bed.

The springs in the bedding squeaked uproariously as Ashur tossed back the dull shaded cover, swinging his legs off the side of the old bed. He rushed over to the light switch and flipped it on hurriedly, as if the dark held monsters to grab and gnaw at him.

Ashur flickered unendingly as he wandered over to his little dresser, looking at himself in the mirror. He was shocked at the figure that gazed back at him, with extreme eyes and tight, tanned skin.

His arms bulged and his triceps and biceps throbbed as though he'd been to a Gym earlier. Sore and throbbing, he gazed at his arm muscles, that apparently grew overnight and protruded impressively. His chest plate was no longer board flat and his abs stood out, which begged for many inquiries that Ashur couldn't quite disentangle.

He was just baffled at his body that had morphed overnight and it made him uneasy, but his eyes bulged suddenly as his right brushed over his left. A black armband tattoo, just inches below his underarm with three long lines running around to meet. "What the-," Ashur's voice trailed off as his finger ran over the simple, yet intricate markings that left him alarmed and frozen.

It was a mark of some kind and it made Ashur Dizzy, but he couldn't quite fathom the situation for he could only feel a sort of vibe from the three lines. As if they were symbolic in a way, that he wouldn't dare to understand even if he tried.

"Ok calm down Ashur," he spoke in a whisper as he felt his breathing hasten.

He began hyperventilating and his breath wafted from his mouth and back, swiftly and coarsely. "It's just a dream," he remarked convincingly as he pinched himself hard; too hard for comfort. "Ouch!" He hissed slowly as his skin became red and irritated.

Just as he thought things couldn't get any freakier, the redness blurred and he lurched back, looking at his hand as the peculiar feeling surmounted inside him. An inclination so dreamlike, he could feel his internal organs writhe, as though his tummy was going to overlap. His throat shut and opened in a state of harmony with his worn out breathing as his breathing grew to be distinctly agonizing.

"What is happening to me?"


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