Licking of Tormented Wounds, a Tail as Old as Time (18+ Probably)

[Takai Masamune]

Licking his wounds probably wasn’t the best term to describe the man’s departure. The sights and sounds of the arcade buzzed distantly as feet unevenly slapped up the steps. The rising platforms led him up a flight and then another once more. A blur of torn fabric and flesh shot from the door of the Red Dragon Inn in a flash. Jumping from the top of the stairs, his world moved in slow motion.

“Sorry!” He heard his voice echo in the back of his flickering mind. His consciousness was in a constant state of being gone and back again. Deja vu filled his soul, a playful grin, a light slap, a shoulder check, and a beautiful woman hot on his heels. There would be no chase this time, at least not from her.

Time returned to normal as he felt his feet collide ungracefully with the hard cobbled street. Takai froze, dropping to a crouch on the city pavement. His mind was ablaze with recent memories, golden moons woefully locked to the uneven stones. He didn’t see them, only the memories. “Ah…” His mouth opened to let out a low growl of pain before his teeth clamped shut, denying him relief.

A sudden crack echoed as his dislocated shoulder snapped and slid back into place. It healed quickly, but it felt like an eternity. His teeth chattered as a pained gasp slipped from his gaping mouth, a strand of drool webbing towards the ground before finally falling.

A moment later, he was on the move. A flash of gold covered the side of a building, a fresh weld along a metal storm gutter. Bright clay tiles replaced the weather-worn ones. What the hell was wrong with him? Why had he lost control? A flash of terrified suns pierced his mind, the moons hiding behind ashamed covers. His head dropped as his body sped up. A pop.

Takai lost his footing. His hip snapped into place. His pelvis cracked. His joint shifted. A gasp too painful to hide burst from his lips as he slid roughly across crumbly stone and skin. Stubborn as always, the instinct to escape was too strong to ignore. The internal roar to run, to hide, even to gnaw his own arm off if necessary. His muscles tensed, exertion setting in as his femur shifted under his skin, a noticeable drop in muscle.

“Get the fuck up!” His forehead slammed into the ground, splitting his skin. As if commanding the earth to move, a human scream ripped through the night air. His voice was an echo somewhere far off as he fell back into his thoughts. It was as if he heard another person.

Delaney grinned at him, thinking she’d cornered the wolf. Constant shifts of emotions fluttered as cracking tiles and unsure steps filled the air. Words exchanged between predator and prey, maybe even predator and predator. His mind focused on the alley floor multiple stories below him. Del’s face, a manic grip around her throat. His memory was torn from him and replaced.

His eyelids lowered as rage turned to grief, the site in his mind's eye ravaging his soul. The drive to uproot himself faded for a fleeting second before he reluctantly got to his feet. Stumbling toes shifted forward, trying to correct their gait. He was almost back to normal. Muscles screaming, bones brittle, tendons loose. He ducked into a familiar portal.

Unsure feet staggered like a toddler correcting an overstepped step, twisting ankles and flailing shoulders attempting to maintain balance. A firm step sent him forward, pained expressions covering his features as a thick streak of blood seeped down from a new abrasion on his forehead. To the serene blanket of the Isle's wood line, the devolving beast went.

A tree offered a brief respite. His heavy shoulder braced against it, sweat pouring around him. The blood soaked into the mana-rich soil below. He was deep in the woods. A few painful steps brought him to a small clearing where he collapsed. Ill-deserved halos peered at the calming dusk skies after a heaving of exhausted flesh brought Takai to his back. Only the sound of a deep heartbeat throbbed.

He pressed himself against Del, ecstasy embracing their faces. A shared kiss. The coarse feeling of brick against his knuckles lingered. Flashes of excitement, gasps, a moan, a few special words… 'Don’t hurt him', choking, a roar. His fist plummeting to the ring mats, shouts from the audience, the smells of adrenaline coursing through approaching uninvited intervention. A frenzied hand tightly bound across caramel skin, disappearing suns.

Takai rolled to his side, curling into a ball. His body neared the end of its transformation. The final muscles ripped and reconnected, a proper muscle structure forming under his skin. No more protruding bones or strange bulges. Something worse.

The pain lessened, and the void it created was unbearable. His arms did their best to hug himself as the fetal position tightened. Bloody skin collecting a thick mask of dirt and grass. The golden moons piercing vision blurred to a translucent haze of shades.

A frantic hand gripped the woman’s throat, a fist tried to bury itself into nothing, a passionate kiss against a back alley wall, grins piercing the night sky, a manic hand clutching a woman’s throat.