Stories from RhyDin & The Rings

NSFW due to violence, cussing, and gore.


They had been tracking the figure for a while now, using stealth and agility to keep in the shadows while the man trudged along the dampened street that lead closer to the wharf and the smattering of buildings beyond. The faint glow of the screen of the phone he was holding illuminated his features and confirmed to the twin shadows that this was indeed the man they were looking for.

Silent gestures passed between the two, signals they had worked out privately for moments just like this. The smaller of the two shadows slipped ahead and found a spot to blend in even more if that were possible. The other shadow seemed to play tag with the actual shadow of the man as he passed under a street light and paused. “Old bitch didn’t know what hit her.” He laughed around the moistened tip of the cigar that hung from his lips, his eyes glistening with amusement as he looked over something on the screen.

That distraction is all the first would need it seemed as from out of the darkness came a hand holding what looked like a straw or a small tube. It was lifted to lips and a quick breath had the needle tipped dart shooting out towards its target. There was no sound as the skin of his neck was punctured as the dart sank home. Instantly the tip opened under the surface of his skin and embedded as three small spikes spread out, locking the dart in place to disburse the liquid it held.

“What the?” The last word slurred from his lips as his legs began to wobble. To anyone looking, he seemed just like every other drunken fool that had decided to take a walk on the wild side late at night when he should have just stayed home. The man took a few more stumbling steps before he slowly dropped to his knees. His lips parted as if he were going to say something more but only a thin line of drool passed them. His eyes were alert though, looking wildly about as he tried to will his body to move. The poison worked like a charm, numbing limbs and preventing movement yet keeping his mind aware of everything that was going to happen to him.

The figure that had launched the dart slipped backwards into the shadows once more so that the other stalking shadow could make itself known. Draped in black, head to toe, it would be hard to tell exactly who or what they were. In fact, the helpless man could do nothing but wonder…why?

As he was distracted looking at the one approaching, he would not notice the other slipping up behind him until he felt fingers twist painfully in the hair at the back of his head. With a harsh tug, they tilted his head back so that he could stare up into eyes that stared wickedly back at him. A whisper was all that he would hear without any discernible tone or dialect. “You have stolen money for the last time. You have scammed your last mark. Your hands will no longer take the breath of the innocent. We are the ones that will come for you when you least expect it. Taking from you which you have stolen from countless others. You are going to suffer for what you have done and you will serve as a message to all those that know you. We will not stand by any longer.”

He wasn’t given a chance to even try to groan or mumble out a response as fingers twisted even further in his hair, possibly pulling out a large chunk of it before a fist landed a bone crunching blow to his face. Stars soon faded from his eyes and allowed the other to come into focus. Once more, he had no idea who they were but somewhere deep down he knew it didn’t matter. Maybe it was the glint of white teeth flashed from a dark smile given that had him knowing he wasn’t going to survive. That he was going to pay for all of his crimes this night. Or maybe it was the feel of cold steel at his throat before the skin started to tear apart with the sliding of the blade across. He gurgled, half choking on saliva and blood as it filled his mouth.

He was helpless …just like his latest victim. They were going to make sure that this took a while. Giving him time to endure the pain and feel the destruction he had caused on countless others.

The slice of the blade on his throat didn’t stop there. It drew a line down, ripping through the material of his shirt and flesh, flaying it open like a one would a fish in preparation of gutting it. There might have even been the softest of chuckles near the shell of his ear as he tried to fight against the numbing effects that caused him to not be able to do anything in defense.

Once the shirt was open and his chest and abdomen exposed, the one before him stepped forward and pressed something incredibly hot and searing upon his chest. The sizzling sound of burning flesh was drowned out by the long, drool filled groan that left his lips. “Shhhh. Soon it will be over and you will be our first message in a long list of messages to be sent. Know that your death will be a sacrifice and maybe you can start atoning for sins.”

The man’s eyes rolled back in his head, as if he were going to pass out from the pain. But he was brought back to the edge of reality when another punch to his face rattled his brain. His eyes swam with tears, blurring the image of the one before him even more.

However, he was able to make out the nod they gave to the other one. Before he could even register what that meant, those fingers were tightening against his scalp once more so that his head could be pulled all the way back, causing the slice in his neck to spread apart with the sickening sound of skin tearing.

The glint of that knife flashed as it slowly lowered to his face and pressed against those bloodied lips. It parted them and pushed against his teeth and beyond as it was used to leverage his mouth open. The one in front reached forward with gloved fingers and took a hold of his tongue in a tight grip. With a tug it was pulled to a stretch beyond his mouth and to his horror he felt the knife sliding back out, the blade slicing along the flesh of that muscle. He wasn’t even given a chance to reflect on the pain before one clean slice had the pink item in question severed to fall to the ground in front of him.

His mind swam on the brink of consciousness but somehow he was still slightly alert, but not for long. That wicked knife made purchase at the corner of his mouth and took care to carve out a joker like smile that slit the flesh all the way to his ear. The same was done to the other side and those fingers finally released his hair to let his head slump forward.

The one that was behind came around to admire their artwork and then nodded at the other. There was a moment..just the breath of anticipation that was held before hands were put to either side of his face. “Thank you for your cooperation.” With a swift motion, relief came to the man in the form of a snapping of the bones of his neck.

The other stepped forward and shot out a kick that planted in the middle of the chest and caused the now lifeless body to fall back so the skull slammed into the concrete with a satisfying crack. Kneeling down, the blade of the knife was wiped off on the remnants of the shirt before they straightened and joined the other once more. A look was passed between the two and then they turned to disappear into the shadows, like two ships sailing off into the darkened sea of Dockside. The task done, the message sent, this was a warning. Vengeance was coming to Dockside and all who chose to not heed the warning would perish perhaps even more than this poor sap had.

One would think that after such a gruesome display that people would talk and take caution. The type of people the two were after didn't like to pay attention or take caution it seemed. One such person was heading out of a bar closer to the wharf, stumbling and singing loudly. A liquor bottle dangled from battered fingers as he started towards the street. Maybe it was the alcohol that caused him to not see the fleeting movement of one in the shadows, or perhaps it was the fact that the figure, all dressed in black, hid so well to not be noticed.

Whatever it was, the next thing he saw was stars as a fist collided with his face. The bottle fell from his hands, heading for the ground to meet it's demise. It should have shattered, spilling it's contents along the pavement. Holding a hand up to his bloody nose, he looked with wide eyes to the one before him. "Ahhh..You think a cheap shot is going to take me down." He lunged and grabbed nothing but air as the back of his shirt was caught by another hand and he was viciously pulled back against someone else. His arms were pinned, held behind him as slowly he was being dragged away from the light and still noisy establishment in front of them.

The one that had punched him offered him a smile before bringing the very bottle he had yet to open to their lips for a long and languid drink. Taunting as they held the bottle out in front of him. "No, just want you to feel what it's like to get your own medicine." Were they talking about the alcohol? They didn't give him time to think as he was dragged from pavement the wood of the pier. The crashing of the waves would drown out any sound the man tried to make and also would help to aid in the symphony of his screams.

"You fuckin' prick. Le' me go." He started to struggle, getting in a good kick of his own to the one in front's abdomen. "Ha see? I'll still take your ass out." He shouted in glee as he saw them double over just briefly. That merriment was soon to be shortened as the one behind gave a quick and sharp knee to his back while pulling on his arms with strength that shouldn't be possible. The man screamed as ligaments tore with a snap and popping sound.

Straightening, the one in front took another swig of the bottle and then stepped forward to spit the contents into his face. "You think you can go around using your fists to talk. Well it's time for you to have a proper conversation." The words were whispered, nearly swallowed up by the waves as they beat upon the pylons beneath them. The bottle shifted and with a well placed jab, the man's lip was split as it was mashed against his crooked teeth.

The one behind held him steady, keeping him on his feet, even when he started to whimper. "Fuck you." He spat blood towards them and chuckled. Another well timed punch mashed already battered lips against his teeth once more, this time breaking one loose so when he did spit, it fell on the ground. The man struggled then, squirming to try and get away which only allowed the one holding him to pull those arms tighter until there was a loud cracking of a bone. The man's screams were swallowed up once more by the howling wind and raging sea. "How does it feel to be at a disadvantage? How does it feel to have your bones broken and know that this will be the last time you will breathe?" There was a metal clicking and a glint of a blade as a knife was held out in front of him.

"Come on...I won't do it again. I promise." He was crying now, blood splattering with each pathetic word. The one in front took another drink from that bottle and stepped close, close enough for the smell of the rough whiskey to linger on their breath. "That's right, you won't do it again." The knife came up swiftly,and buried into his belly. A gurgling protest came from the man but it soon faded as the blade twisted and then slid upwards. Just like one would a fish, the wound was large and would do well for what they planned to do next. The one behind took a few steps back and turned so the man was facing the edge of the pier. "No...you wouldn't!" But it seems they would! With a fierce amount of strength, the man was tossed into the sea, screaming as he bobbed for just a moment.

It didn't take as long as they had thought. The smell of blood, thinned by the alcohol, called the predators and soon there were dark and slick figures swimming in a circle around him. He tried frantically to swim but it was to no avail as one darted towards him. His anguished scream would let them know that the shark's teeth had made purchase. Soon enough, he was tugged beneath the waves, leaving the two alone on the pier. To anyone walking by, they were simply admiring the water while sharing a drink. As the bottle was handed from one to the next before they turned and headed back up the pier to slip right back into the shadows from whence they came.