Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-11588669-20140208053126/@comment-11588669-20140427032347

He cocked his head to the side at her words. And then pulled her close for a kiss. It was passionate, but gentle. Conveying thanks in a single action. He broke it, and laid his forehead on hers.

"Thank you." He told her earnestly.

"But the past...it's not so easily outrun...especially when you carry the marks on you for the world to see..." Nox reached up, and pulled down his shirt, exposing the tattoos and ritualistic scars. "I was taken by some sort of cult. Worshipped Grimm, apparently. And they adopted their humanity, or lack thereof. They kidnapped me off the street going home after a contract. I was sore, bleeding, and tired. The perfect target. Whoever they were, they had some skilled members. I didn't even put up a fight. All I remember is getting hit with a dart, and then smothered with a rag."

"I woke up I don't know how long later...strapped to a stone table. Stripped down, degraded. I remember seeing someone with missmatched eyes...and then the pain started. They took a stone knife, serrated along the entire length of the blade, and started carving. Once one symbol was set..they poured some type of powdered dye in it. Made with Grimm blood, apparently. All I know, was it fucking burned. And all I wanted, was for the pain to stop. I cried, begged, pleaded, prayed for salvation from this. Even death seemed a better alternative. None came." Nox exhaled shakily. He hated this memory.

"This persisted for two weeks. Two weeks of surviving on nothing but the barest essentials possible. Two weeks of lying on that stone table, caked in my own blood while they carved more and more symbols in. The only time I'm able to move is to go to the restroom. The term hell is an understatement. Nothing I've ever felt hurt as bad as that. I've had a grenade go off two feet from me. I've been run through with a blade. Shot point blank, even. And all of it combined pales in comparison to that pain. But what was worse than the pain, was the hopelessness. I lost hope by the third day of getting out of there. I honestly thought I was going to die there..."

"They made a mistake. Didn't tighten the restraints enough that day. That was all it took." His eyes shut tightly. "I slaughtered them. There was no fighting, nothing. I took that stone knife, and plunged it into my torturer's stomach, and ripped. His intestines spilled onto the floor. His assistants followed quickly. I went through that entire complex, searched each and every room. And killed everyone I could find. There was only one entrance...and I was at the back. No one even caught wind of me until I was twenty minutes into that killing spree. I had found my equipment then, and finished the rest off. The last one I struck down was a female. She was pretty, beautiful even. Purple hair, nearly black red eyes. I slashed across her eye, and stabbed her in the lung. She cried out for help. I kept walking."

"I was in the middle of the fucking forest between here and Vale. Umbra and a few friends found me a couple days later, wandering through. And here I am." He opened his eyes, to show tears in them. "They were supposed to be fucking dead! And here I find one alive! And how many more are out there?! How many more will try to take me back...I don't want to go back there." He was scared. Terrified. This was the one thing that absolutely sent fear into his heart. "I won't go back there. They'll be hauling back a corpse....along with every person I can kill along the way."