The Bleeder

[GlitchManMax]

Hey everybody! Got inspired for this story vaguely connected to Athios! Hope you get some enjoyable spooks out of it, and Happy Halloween!

***

The Bleeder

It was a cool, autumn evening. The moon, in its fullness, shone down and lit the way, revealing all things as they were. Three teenagers and a man walked along the path until they reached a small fire pit, where coals simmered quietly.

“Do you think Keens will catch up to us?” said the boy named Roy.

“He’s a slowpoke, but he’ll show up! I’ll give him a thrashing if he makes us wait for s’mores though!” said the girl named Jen.

“I don’t know, even with the moon, it is sort of dark, he might get lost…” said the child named Lee.

Their companion, the Wizard, smiled at them and said, “There’s nothing I would be afraid of in this woods, it’ll just be a chance for Keens to experience nature! We can look for him in an hour if he doesn’t show.” The three young ones nodded in agreement. “Now, let’s get a bigger fire going here! There’s hardly any warmth in these coals!”

The four of them set to work on collecting firewood and kindling. Shortly, a roaring fire burst to life, hungrily licking the night air, seeking more and more fuel. Lee happily threw more leaves and branches in to watch them burn.

“Well, if we’re not going to have s’mores until Keens gets here, we should something fun! Like stories!” Jen loudly suggested.

“Well, I don’t want to hear about the Frost and the Trigger again, that one was boring,” Roy said firmly.

“Perhaps I could tell you a story you haven’t heard before-“

“Yes, yes, yes! That would be awesome!” Jen shouted, interrupting the Wizard.

“Very well, It’s actually three stories. Different names, but similar characters. And one common threat… The Bleeder.”

“I thought the Bleeder was a myth,” Lee stated. “He always sounds ridiculous in those old tales about blood cults or those chain mails you get in your spam folder.”

The Wizard pondered this retort for a moment. “Well, you can disbelieve his existence if you wish. But I find spooky stories are more exciting if you let yourself be taken away by them for a bit.” Lee nodded, and the three campers looked up to the Wizard excitedly.

“I think I have a good one to start with,” he said. “The tale of the Archer…”

***

The Archer was, well, an archer. One of legendary repute. With their trusty bow, they could fell any enemy in their way, pinning them to the ground, lighting them ablaze, even sending foes reeling from a well-placed shot. Many soldiers served with the Archer, but none had ever seen them miss.

One day, the Archer was tasked with an important mission: To hunt down a war criminal who had deserted the other side. The scoundrel’s abandonment of his side seemed like a great chance to bring him to justice. The Archer’s commander told him this murderer had been seen in a forest a few days away. The Archer immediately accepted the task and set off.

The Archer arrived at the forest after a few grueling days of marching. It was a thick area of growth, with many vines and bushes cluttering the forest floor. All the cover would make a normal archer hesitate, but the Archer had no fear.

After a few hours of traveling through the forest, examining tracks. The Archer held a rustle behind him. They turned around. There was the man they were after. The Bleeder stood still. The Archer drew back their bow. They fired.

And missed.

A more arrogant warrior would have been shocked to miss a shot after such a perfect track record, but the Archer was not arrogant. There had simply been a branch in the way that skewed the shot. The Bleeder was still there. The Archer drew back their bow. They fired.

And missed.

The Bleeder turned his head after the arrow passed a few inches past his shoulder. Then he turned back and stared at the Archer. The Archer drew back their bow. They fired.

They hadn’t nocked an arrow.

This mistake disrupted the Archer’s rhythm. A bowperson’s first instinct after firing a shot was to prepare the next arrow. The Archer reached for an arrow, stepping back, when suddenly they lost their footing and they fell to the ground. Arrows spilled out of the quiver. The Archer frantically tried to rise and grab an arrow, but failed at both tasks, slipping on mud. The Archer calmed their nerves, and tried to simply stand up. They could not find a hold in the treacherous earth. Panicking, the Archer looked up at the Bleeder. He still stood, but had, unnoticed, pulled a knife out.

This knife was very plain. Simple. Standard-issue for the army its owner was from. Except, it seemed to be wooden. One would dismiss such a weapon as a novel toy, yet the crimson coloring that grew darker near the point of its blade betrayed its sinister nature as the weapon of the Bleeder. The Bleeder stood still however. His face was a mask of indifference.

The Archer flailed wildly. An enemy was a few feet away with a weapon and they couldn’t rise from the floor! Yet the more they struggled, the more the mud seemed to conspire to thwart their every move. In the dark light of the forest, one might confuse it for quicksand. Eventually the Archer stopped resisting his misfortune and looked at the Bleeder. “What do you want?” They challenged.

The Bleeder smiled. Whether it was the smile of a madman is really only something the Archer could tell. He raised his knife back. Then he struck.

The Bleeder did not miss.

The Archer fell.

 

[GlitchManMax]

“I don’t get it,” said Jen.

“What part didn’t you get?” asked the Wizard kindly.

“The Archer is this legendary shot and they can’t hit the Bleeder once? That seems weird, even if the forest was tough and overgrown!”

“Ah, but you see, Jen. That’s the power of the Bleeder. He doesn’t defeat his enemies with a single blow. He whittles away at them. A little hiccup, growing fear, forgetting their composure, panicking… And then they just give up. The Bleeder makes it feel as if it is too difficult to carry on, to live. Despair is his greatest strength.” The Wizard nodded solemnly. “If you faced him, you’d hardly even know what effect he had on you until it was too late.”

“Well there’s gotta be somebody else who faced the Bleeder and won! They just have to size him up right!” Roy insisted. Lee seemed to agree with their friend’s optimistic assertion.

“There was indeed another who faced against the Bleeder. Let me tell you his tale,” the Wizard said. “The tale of the Juggernaut…”

***

The Juggernaut was a tank. A human tank, capable for taking much more abuse and pain than the average fighter. And this wasn’t just because of the massive set of armor he wore, or his impressive physique and stature. The Juggernaut simply had an unbreakable spirit that got him through any encounter.

One day, the Juggernaut was given an assignment. The villain in the shadows, the Bleeder, the one who struck fear into the soldiers at just the mention of his name, had been seen entering an ancient temple a few days away. The commander was no fool—he had lost several good people on missions to hunt down the Bleeder, but he thought he knew how to fix it. Instead of sending individual heroes, he would send a team. So the Juggernaut was joined by the Ninja and the Demolitionist. The Ninja was a master of survival and scaling difficult obstacles. The Demolitionist excelled at disarming traps and understanding machines. And the Juggernaut was simply unstoppable. So together, the three heroes set off.

It was easy work to find the temple. They walked in and found three paths. One was a large wall that seemed very difficult to climb, but possible for the Ninja. Another was a hallway. “That’s trapped or my mother is a squirrel and my dad a chipmunk,” said the Demolitionist. The third path led to a massive iron door.

“This’ll be no more problem for me, but I wouldn’t mind your help before we all split up,” said the Juggernaut. Together the three of them pushed the door open easily. The Juggernaut waved goodbye to the others, and pressed down the hallway. About 20 feet down the hallway, the previous door slammed shut. The Juggernaut lumbered up to it and was quite concerned, but discovered it could be pushed open from this side as well. He stepped back into the main entrance where the Ninja and Demolitionist had returned. “Ah, no worries,” said the Juggernaut. “I’m fine.” The three returned to their hallways.

After reopening the door, which was a bit harder by himself, the Juggernaut walked down the hallway to another door, which seemed identical. He set himself to opening it, and found it was a bit harder than the last one, but still surmountable. He got past it, and the door slammed shut behind him.

Simply pushing on the door that followed was not enough, but with good positioning and a head of steam, the Juggernaut succeeded in slamming it open. He got past it, and the door slammed shut behind him.

The next door was quite tough, even for a giant like the Juggernaut, but after a minute of work, he pushed it open and slid inside. He had gotten past yet another door, and like the others, it slammed behind him.

“Whew,” the Juggernaut said aloud. “That was tough. I should probably give it a rest after this next one so I don’t get stuck.” He set to opening the door, which had promising light shining from under it. However, this door would not be bullied like its siblings. It stood stubbornly, refusing to move. The Juggernaut was not concerned however. He would simply report back to the others, perhaps enlist their help. He bet the Demolitionist could make a device to help open the doors.

The Juggernaut returned the last door, and pushed. It gave way a little bit, showing it could be moved, but the Juggernaut found it too exhausting, more than it had been before. He was worried now, as this room had no other exits other than the two massive doors. He leaned over to see if the floor was sturdy and—BOOOOOOM!

A huge chunk of the ceiling came slamming down onto the Juggernaut, threatening to crush him—but he had gotten his hands up just in time. It was incredibly heavy, but the Juggernaut could hold it. For now. There seemed to be no good way to drop the stone without being flattened by it, so he sat for a moment and considered his options. He was about to realize the solution, when he heard a sound from beyond the door he failed to open. It was the slam of another door. Then, a moment later, the door in front of him smoothly and easily opened. And there stood the Bleeder.

The Bleeder was not a huge man, so this feat shocked the Juggernaut. “H-how did you… open the door?” He stammered from underneath the giant rock.

The Bleeder considered the question. Then he replied, “Oh, you didn’t know? These doors all weigh the same, and took me the same effort to open.”

The Juggernaut didn’t quite pay attention to the answer, as the rock above him seemed even heavier and becoming trapped underneath loomed large as a worry. He gasped out to the Bleeder, “Please… Help…”

The Bleeder smiled. Whether it was the smile of a cruel man is really only something the Juggernaut could tell.

The Bleeder waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The Ninja and the Demolitionist reported back that it was a bust to find the Bleeder, and they couldn’t find the Juggernaut since the doors had locked.

The Bleeder waited.

Days passed.

The Juggernaut fell.

 

[GlitchManMax]

“So he was crushed and suffocated?” Lee asked.

“Nah, it was days, Lee! He probably starved to death.” Jen pointed out.

“Actually, you’re both wrong. He died of dehydration. That kills you before starvation.” The Wizard informed the children.

“No matter what… that’s messed up.” Roy said sadly. “Is there any stories about people who don’t lose to the Bleeder?”

“Well, there is one who didn’t lose to the Bleeder… She is an interesting case. The story of the Berserker…”

***

The Berserker was a mistress of destruction. An impressive axe-wielder at any time, a powerful athlete at any place, she became even more impressive when she entered her rage. She could often bring it on through sheer will, but it always happened and became stronger when she took a human life. She always said she could feel the soul leave the body, and no one dared argue with her about it.

The commander of her army was not going to waste her talents. He gave her an assignment, or rather, she was the assignment for someone else. The Wraith had mastered two talents. For one thing, he could make himself so unnoticeable, so easy to look through as to become invisible. Another one was that he knew when a person had become weak and vulnerable. His job was to call out and point at enemies for the Berserker to kill so she would become more powerful. Together they made a fierce team.

This strategy worked well, until one day, while the army was storming a castle, the Wraith called out to the Berserker, “In here! Seven, eight weak ones!” The Berserker, already deep in a fury, slammed the door down and dispatched who was inside.

In the aftermath of the battle, which had been won by the Berserker’s army, a room was found. What was in this room was obscured by the commanding officers, who had no interest in being found guilty of war crimes. Unrest assured, it was horrifying. Word spread quickly through the army, and reached the Berserker. Realizing dream-like visions she had experienced during her rage were based on the reality of this room, she was heartbroken. People say that she said she felt her own soul almost split in two. The Berserker immediately requested discharge, and a commander eager to get away from one of the two witnesses was all too happy to grant it.

Away from the life of a warrior, the Berserker drowned her sorrows in multiple activities. Every day she wasted away, feeling weaker and experiencing, somehow, more grief for her actions. A few weeks into her self-exile, after a night a tavern, she returned to her room and slept.

Crreeeaaaak

The Berserker bolted upright. Or, at least, tried to. She lifted her chest up slightly and then fell back down, exhausted from the effort. She felt almost paralyzed. She forced her neck slightly towards the door. There stood the Bleeder.

“Ah excellent work, this is. You would make a fine apprentice.”

“Screw you,” spat out the Berserker with an effort. “I don’t give a-“

“I wasn’t referring to you,” the Bleeder said as he pointed to a corner of the room. Slowly rotating her head, the Berserker saw an outline standing there. It was the Wraith.

“What are you doing here?” The Berserker asked.

The Wraith ignored her.

“And my implement, apprentice?” the Bleeder inquired. The Wraith pulled out a simple wooden dagger and tossed it to the Bleeder. “Thank you.”

“Why… are you doing this?” The Berserker said, breathing heavily.

The Wraith mulled over the question. Then, he began his tirade. “Because you’re weak. I was happy to start working with you because you were the strongest person in our army by far. You were fierce. Unstoppable. Almighty! And then, one time when we were just performing our functions, you do something you don’t like. And it shatters you! You go from being the strongest person I’ve ever met to a weakling. I was glad to see you leave. But it drove me mad to think you would live the rest of your life forsaking your power, leaving it for sorrow! So, with this lunatic, I’m performing my function: eliminating weakness.”

The Berserker cried. Or, wanted to cry. She felt the primal need to express her sadness, but her tear ducts refused to respond. So she lied on the bed, staring at her former comrade.

A moment passed. Then another.

“So, when do we kill her?” The would-be Bleeder asked the senior one.

“Kill her? She’ll die eventually. I’ve done this before.” Said the professional Bleeder. “Bask in this moment, enjoy it. Few have fallen so far.”

The Wraith was taken aback. He looked at the Berserker then back at the Bleeder. “So we’re just supposed to sit here? Revel in weakness? Celebrate it?” The Bleeder shrugged, then nodded.

The Wraith looked at the ceiling, then the floor. Then he looked into the eyes of the Berserker. She had ceased moving, but he could see her eyes. He could see her trying to overcome the suffering he himself had inflicted on her. She was still trying to be strong. At a time like this, refusing to give up was the most strength one could have.

The Wraith reached for his bow. The Bleeder looked at him. “Consider your actions.”

The Wraith nocked his bow and released. He did not miss.

The Berserker fell.

The Bleeder frowned. Whether it was the frown of an insane man is really only something the Wraith could tell.

The Wraith fell.

 

[GlitchManMax]

The three children were quiet after that tale. The Wizard waited a moment, then spoke.

“Well, there are two people who won against the Bleeder.”

Jen was enraged. “What do you mean, won? They both died! The Berserker suffered for ages at the hands of her own friend! If you could call him that.”

“Yes, but they denied the Bleeder victory. A small consolation to them, but a bitter loss to the Bleeder, so used to great success in his unique pursuits” The Wizard sighed.

“How would somebody even defeat the Bleeder?” Roy asked.

“The Bleeder can be defeated by people working together. Despair is best on an island, an isolated grove, a desolate mountain. Hope is found in bustling households and places where friends meet. Thinking from that, that’s how I deduced the way the Bleeder could become unstoppable.” The Wizard mused.

“Unstoppable? How’d he do that?” Lee asked with a look of panic on their face.

“Oh it’s simple really,” the Wizard remarked. “He would have to destroy people’s ability to communicate, their ability to relate to one another, to understand each other. Once people are alone, they are pathetically weak.”

“Guys, where’s Keens?” Jen asked, looking into the dark. The fire had died down to coals once more.

“This is really creepy,” Lee said, gathering their things and standing up.

Roy looked at the Wizard, who was smiling, staring into the dying fire. “Is there a moral to these stories?”

The Wizard considered this.

He smiled. Whether it was really the smile of a Wizard is really only something the children could tell.

“Yes… Beware the Bleeder”

The fire fell.

 

[Dave_X]

Really well written! I like the formatting at the end as well, great job

 

[Lizardheart]

Love it. Fantastic, spooky ending there.