Nezoroth Chapter 2: Trial by Fire
#1 of Nezoroth's Saga
Well, I still have all of my scales, so I guess thatI didn't butcher the area to much. Please rate and comment, I could use the critisism.
Nezoroth 2: Trial by Fire
Saz blinked. Then reared back, dropping the still half stunned micro drake to the ground.
"Why, you little bastard." She said, half to herself, wiping the tears from her eyes. She was rather stunned at the little pricks forwardness. After all, he was about half her height, and had about as many friends as she did. Zero. Well, she supposed that Shalim counted as a friend, but the mouse was never around. She had changed into a heavy coat, mostly because she hated the feeling of cleaning solution on her scales. The damn stuff never came off.
Quickly she looked Nez up and down. He didn't seem in any imminent danger of death.
"Well good." She muttered, then punched him in the nose, sending him right back into whatever dream he had been having earlier.
Saz grinned, as she walked home. Quite an unusual occurrence as it happens. Usually she could be seen trudging home, weary after a long day at home and at the prospect that her father was doubtless drinking. Saz shed her skin once every three or four months. Any scarring is cast off with the old skin. And she always had fresh scars. As she came within a mile of her house though, she noticed that something was wrong. There was smoke in the air. Dropping her bag, she ran. The nearer to her house that she got, the more certain of the dreadful occurrence she was. Then she saw. Her house, the only home she had ever known, was in the middle of a pyroclasm. She screamed.
Then, in a flash, she remembered.
"But where are you going mommy?" I asked
"I love you honey, but I can't stay. I have to go."
"But what about daddy, won't he be sad?" Mothers eyes narrowed.
"I tend to doubt that. I love you Hatrushi, and this isn't your fault, but mommy has to leave. Now, before daddy gets back from..." Mother had paused for the briefest second, "work." And even then I knew that she was lying. Then she strode over to the corner, and past it. And I never saw my mother again. She should have taken me with her. Father started to drink, and called me Saz-or-tita. "My, little slave". He expected me to take mothers place. To fix his meals and clean up after him, and to... warm his bed. When I refused, he punished me, and then had his way, raking his cold talons down the bleeding gashes, whispering in my ear, "You will never leave me, you will always want me, want to feel me inside of you." And then make me say it. I would refuse. And the beast would do it all again, laying new furrows in my skin, atop the still bleeding ones he had already plowed, and whenever he was ready, he would plow me again, until I said it.
And he made it true. He had made it so that I felt lust for his foul stinking carcass, felt a need for him deep within me. Then started forcing me to work the streets. Bears, wolves, the occasional fox, all looking for a bit of fun. That was how I grew up. I thought about running away, offering my body to one of the, 'customers' as payment to freedom, but the one time I tried, I was pushed to the ground, and told that if they wanted me, then they would have me. I went home bloody that night. Like every night, I went home. After all, my own father used me, and sold me out. The people around me, male and female, only used be like a cheap toy. How could anyone care for me?
Saz blinked the tears out of her eyes. The fire had burned down. I would only be a few minutes before anyone got here. Her father lay on the floor in what had been the kitchen. Saz strode over to him.
"My turn now, you; filthy; Gods damned; sadistic; raping; ARRRGGGHHHHHH!" she ended screaming, punctuating each word with a vicious swipe or her hand, claws extended, tearing the face off of the charred body. She punctured the stomach with both hands, lifted her father off the ground, holding him above her head, then ripped the body in half. She might have lost everything but the half burned up and now thoroughly blood spattered clothes she now wore, but she was free.
She leaned down close to the rent head, licking the stump where his head fin had once been. "My name is Hatrushi." Then smashed the skull with her tail.
//Nezoroth's home\
Nez had just gotten home and flicked on the TV, sipping a nice bottle of ice cold water, when the contents went flying towards the screen. Saz was kneeling, crying in the ruins of a house, covered in gore, the dragon before her, rent apart. The newscaster was saying that it was one of the most violent deaths he had ever had to cover.
Nez had just jumped up to go tell his mother, when someone slammed the front door open. Saz was there, tears rolling down her face.
"I need, a place to stay." She said. Her once navy T-shirt was now thoroughly drenched in blood, and most of it had charred off, leaving only a little to the imagination. To be quite honest, most of the people in a 'Gentleman's' club wore a lot less revealing clothes. The only things he could see were her... "Help, no hospital..." she said, voice choked with smoke inhalation and anguish, and collapsed.