Nerrow has a minion!

Malifall, Nocturo and Sadon the Bad Luck Trio

Name: Nerrow
Pronounced: near-row
Alias: None
Age: Unknown
Gender: Male
Species: Archan
Height: 4'10"
Place of Birth: Centropolis
Alignment: Neutral
Role: Incarnation of Retribution: he hunts down and kills violent criminals .
Eyes: Deep black like a star-less sky and a small pinpoint of light, like looking up from the bottom of a well with the top very far away.
Body type: Rough and scarred, all dark grays and black. Very intimidating aura
Face type: feline with square masculine lines
Marking(s): dark stripes and many harsh scars
Best Feature: dark stripes in his fur
Speaking Style: informal with "street" overtones
Best Qualities: doesn't harm the innocent, protects and guides them to safety
Worst Qualities: murders criminals, sucks out souls to use as light sources
Hobbies: murdering criminals, prowling Shadowglen, plotting revenge against the Light
Fave Food: Caramel
Secret: used to be mortal
Likes: fireworks
Dislikes: criminals

Names: Malifall, Nocturo and Sadon
Pronounced: mall-ee-fall, knock-turr-oh, say-don
Species: Bad Luck Trio
Gender: Female, Male, Male
Description: These three dark felines really don't like anyone much, though they seem to tolerate Terentia for Nerrow's sake. It hardly matters, since all three have the tendency to really creep people out.

Malifall (green eyes).
Pronounced: Ma-lee-fall.
Malifall is considered the creepiest of the three. With her ink black fur and fiery green eyes, she has a tendency to follow you around, staring. She maintains a distance of almost exactly two feet at all times. Lean in build with fur that seems to be just on the edge of being ratty and unkempt.

Nocturo (orange eyes).
Pronounced: knock-turr-oh.
The biggest, most muscular of the three. He'll ignore you until you get too close, then rip you open almost to the bone. He has a nasty and violent temper with strangers and a cold and aloof temper with those who are familiar to him. His fur is stiff and glossy, but the deepest black of the three.

Sadon (yellow eyes).
Pronounced: Say-don.
The smallest in build, the uninformed would mistake him for a kitten compared to the other two. Only when you get closer do you realize that he's perfectly grown despite his size. They say despite his size, he's the worst. Malifall makes you uncomfortable. Sadon makes you afraid. Nocturo is vicious; Sadon is sadistic about going for the most painful spots.

Darkness pulls away from your vision and you step into a room with stone walls. It is sparsely furnished, with almost no personal touches. A four poster bed sits against the far wall with a small black feline minion with orange eyes perched upon it. Two more are nestled on a couch to your right, eyes fixed upon you without wavering. You shiver. Having a Bad Luck Trio for minions says a lot about the pet that ownes them. A map of the city is to your left, spread across four tables that have been pushed together. The wall is adorned with glowing spheres, illuminating the room quite well despite the uneasy feeling that you're underground. A large clock ticks, counting the minutes and hours of the day, sounding loud in the hush of the room. A fireplace adorned with carved skulls on the mantle provides warmth. Next to the bed, a thick book nests on a podium, radiating dark wisps. The title seems to whispter itself over and over in the room. 'Book of Dark Origins.'
"You might as well have a seat."
You flinch and hurriedly make your way to the only place to sit; the black couch with the two creepy cats on it.
"This is our guest," the Dark Predator growls to his minions, soulless eyes flicking from one to the other.
The two minions on the couch yawn widely, as though to announce how little they care whether you're under protection or not, and saunter off to farther parts of the room.
Making yourself as comfortable as you can in spite of the circumstances, you eye the Nightmare Archan nervously. His nightmare aura wisps away to nothing, revealing terrible scars that mar his hide. Old, white tooth marks stand out at his neck and throat, telling stories of opponents who had gone for his jugular in horrific fights long past. There are signs of bites to his legs where something or someone had grabbed and chewed on him. His tail had been broken and now bends at an odd angle. Claw marks dribble down the left side of his muzzle and one long gash curves its way across his flanks; luckily it didn't plunge deep enough to injure his spine. One ear is notched and the other tattered to lace and thinly healed. His final set of wounds indicate that something had clawed its way up his shoulders.
"What happened?" is the first question that pops out of your mouth.
"Old wounds," he rumbles dismissively, "I used to be a street pet; fighting for everything. I fought for food. I fought for shelter. I fought for my very life."
Sympathy washes through you, but you struggle to hide it. This creature doesn't look like someone who wants sympathy. "And now, you're the notorious Dark Predator." You say, tentatively.
He flashes you a look that freezes your blood. Wisely you decide not to ask how that came about. Clearing your throat in an effort to loosen your airways again, you look at the many lights that adorn the walls. "Your lamps work very well. But isn't it kind of overkill to have so many?"
He seems to think you've said something funny and pulls another orb out of the carry sack on the table. It glows with a steady pale light. "These aren't electric lamps, dear visitor. They're souls."
You swallow hard, "The souls of those you allegedly killed?"
"Allegedly," he says sweetly, and flicks the orb across the floor. All three minions converge upon the orb with little growls of pleasure and you hastily look away, not wanting to see what they do with it.
"What about innocents? There's always the possibility of a mistake."
He utters a low rumble of amusement, "Unlikely. The ones I find are usually in the act, and I can only find them if their souls match a certain type of corruption. Those are the only ones I reap."
"Corruption? You mean you have some sort of radar that homes in on a certain type of person?"
"Precicely. It's like following a path. At the end of that path, is the person who made it. Eliminate that person and the path disappears and a new one opens, the next in line."
"And the survivors? The would-be victims of the criminal you killed?" You struggle to keep emotion out of this, but you can't help but think about the traumatized survivors, watching this Dark Archan rip out someone's soul right in front of them.
"They survive. They live to see another day. They are frightened, yes, and forever changed by what they witness. However, watching a criminal who was going to kill you die instead is a lot easier to swallow."
"So you just leave them? No urge to end their lives even though they are witnesses?"
"There are no paths to follow to the souls of the survivors." Nerrow shurgs dismissively. "And if there are no paths to follow, there's no reason to end the life of the person."
You decide to change the subject; this is just getting weird. Why try to figure out how his brain works? "How close are you to the rest of your family?"
He blinks slowly, regarding you with those soulless eyes for a moment before responding, "I am closer to some than others. I relish my independence and don't like 'hanging out' all that much. For the most part, we are a family. We are loyal and protective of one another. But Terentia is the only one I am really 'close' to."
You make a mental note to meet this 'Terentia' and see what about her makes such a harsh predator go soft like that.
"Do you have a favorite food?" You ask, deciding to wrap this up.
"Caramel," Nerrow rumbles, licking his lips. You see a flash of sharp, white teeth and gulp.
Darkness swirls around you and deposits you once again in the home of Alkuna's pets. Thank heavens THAT'S finally over!

The streets were empty of a few more souls this night. The survivors of the terrible attacks described what could only be a Nightmare Archan. Though the police knew what species the perpetrator was, physical evidence was disturbingly absent. No fur or paw prints. No DNA; not even a bit of saliva or tooth mark to be measured.

Survivors... were the would-be victims of criminals. The deceased were all criminals, rap sheets as long as the criminals were tall. Attempted rape, attempted murder, violent physical assault. The criminals just... died; faces contorted with terror and pain. Coroner's reports only describe Cause of Death as sudden catastrophic failure of EVERY system in the body simultaneously. Blood would be everywhere, the throat splitting as though it had been cut, though no tool marks could be found.

. .

Nerrow slid into his dark lair early that night, growling in dark satisfaction. With a gesture, his nightmare aura wisped away to nothing. No point in wearing his 'formal attire' in his own home after all. Orbs of strange shimmering light clinked gently in the special sack that hung from his sides. Carefully pulling them out one by one, he savored the glow they gave off before setting each one in a creepy, clawed stand set in the walls, the orbs growing brighter to illuminate the room a little bit more.

Soul lamps were Nerrow's favorite form of illumination. Ahh yes; soul lamps. What a wonderfully descriptive... and accurate... name. The souls of criminals burned brightly, providing illumination as the setting converted the very essence of the soul into light; using and consuming it until there was nothing left. When the soul was completely consumed, the light went out, and the terrible slayer would harvest more.

"Maassster."

"Yes Malifall? What is it?" Nerrow turned to one of the three members of the Bad Luck Trio that prowled about his lair whether he was there or not.

The black feline's fiery green eyes glowed in the light. "You have a visitor."

Nerrow blinked, stunned for a moment. Then he nodded curtly and allowed his nightmare aura to envelop him again. His scars from living as a street pet showed stark and bare amidst this dark fur and wispy mist that rolled off of him in waves. Properly attired he realized for the first time that the other two minions were nowhere to be seen.

"Where...?"

She flicked her long tail. "Nocturo and Sadon wanted to... play... with her, but I suggested we wait until you gave the word, since she claims to have a request for you. They're keeping an eye on her."

Nerrow swallowed a grimace. Nocturo liked ripping things to pieces, and Sadon was... well... worse. There was a reason why 'Sadon' was derived from the word 'sadistic' after all. "Good thinking Malifall, and thank you. I have three soul orbs, one for each of you to... play with instead."

He withdrew the last three orbs and set them on the floor. He felt a tiny twinge of remorse, but it went away quickly. The ones he fed to his minions always fell into the category of 'the worst' of them all. Even reviewing his decisions over and over again, he still couldn't dredge up much sympathy for these particular slime bags.

Hurrying onward, he entered the living part of his lair and paused in the deepest shadows to observe his visitor. She was a human woman, pale with fear but sporting a determined expression, even under the hungry gazes of his two dangerous minions.

Malifall sauntered past him and purred a call to the other two; both obeyed instantly and eagerly. Racing out of the room, he heard the sound of them purring in the living room. It gave him chills every time that trio got happy about anything. With all three minions out of the room, Nerrow stepped in and stood, regarding the woman coolly.

She stood abruptly and tried not to fidget under his gaze, swallowing hard and biting her lip. But she did not flee.

"I am not accustomed to harboring guests," he finally growled quietly, "so let's hear what you have to say and be done with it."

She gave a jerky nod, and then half bowed, and then hesitated. She didn't seem to be sure which courtesy or sign of respect to give him. Perhaps it was a good thing that her first impression hadn't been to shake hands.

Nerrow snorted, "By all means, keep wasting my time."

She cleared her throat nervously. "I... I came looking for Dark Predator... the one the newspapers are talking about."

Nerrow briefly considered killing her and moving. No one was to know where he was or how to get to him. She was both the smartest human in the world and the stupidest; to come to the right place but then come right out and ask for his...services. He narrowed his eyes and put the option aside. It would be a nuisance to clean blood off of every item in this room before he moved, and she had the look of someone both loved and cared for. People would definitely miss her if he were to kill her. That was a hassle he didn't want, if he could help it. Still, she had no reason to feel welcome, or safe.

"Pretend that you found him," Nerrow's voice was suddenly harsh, threatening, and guttural; "I have a few questions. Why should I do as you request? Why would you ask for such services? And why..." he stepped forward and ran the curved backs of his claws down the side of her face, "should I let you survive coming here at all?" He trailed his paw down her face, sliding his claws along until the lethal tips nestled oh so gently under her chin for an instant before letting her go.

Her chin quivered, and it took her precious seconds to wet her mouth enough to answer. He gave her those seconds, curious in spite of himself.

"I-I c-came to ask you to do what you always do. Tha-that's question one. For question two, he is someone you would take anyway, once you were aware of him. That's your second answer... As f-for question th-three" she swallowed again and her voice cracked, "I dun- don't exp-p-ect to leave here alive regard-l-less."

Nerrow went very still. If she had whipped out a spoon and threatened to neuter him with it, he couldn't have been more stunned.

"... You have my attention." He finally growled, and stepped back, allowing her the breathing space she needed.

Stepping briefly into the kitchen area and withdrawing a mug of cider from his refrigerator, he passed it to her. "Drink, it will make it easier to speak with a properly wet tongue. It is only cider." He added as she glanced at it with a wary air.

The woman took a tiny sip, looked surprised, and then took a longer one.

Sitting down at a more comfortable distance from her, he steepled his claws and waited.

She took a deep breath and began. "My name is Alicia Walker. My... my life is in danger. I'm being stalked. Only my fence and my pets have kept me safe so far, but he's been bold enough to stand on a street corner in broad daylight, watching me."

"The police..." Nerrow began, but she shook her head with such vigor that it was a wonder she didn't give herself a migraine.

"He is very high in society. He has the highest paid lawyers in the county and his fingers in every law enforcement related pie as well. He's basically considered untouchable, and the last time I went to the police, he practically got in my face despite two Mortikings and a Tigrean, and smiled and said to never do that again."

"Did he ever hint at what he wants?" Nerrow couldn't stop the question from popping out.

"Me..." she swallowed heavily, "He's already made it clear that my children are just expendable pawns."

Nerrow blinked slowly. Doomed if she did, doomed if she didn't. Small wonder she took this risk. Suddenly a soul stealing Nightmare Archan didn't seem quite so scary by comparison.

"Give me his name." Nerrow handed a pencil and a piece of paper to Alicia without changing expression.

"He'll most likely be standing outside my home. I don't think he knows I came to you." Her voice was subdued. "No one knows, just so you...know..." she swallowed, stifling a sob as best she could.

Accepting the paper back when she had finished scribbling, he tucked it into his sack. "Do not try to leave this room."

"Thank you..."

Nerrow did not pause at the whispered words, though he heard them. Closing his eyes and shaking his head just a tiny bit, he slipped out into the night. She would have to be dealt with, but first things first.

*

"Hello Mr. Samael Teivel." Nerrow's threatening growl cut through the night air.

The man spun around, surprise on his face. He was dressed in high quality clothes, the kind worn by the filthy rich as 'casual' wear. The kind of clothes that could be auctioned off and feed all of Centropolis. The kind of clothes that would not do well under so much blood. But then, no clothes could.

He had been lurking outside of a quaint, high walled fence in a fairly well-to-do neighborhood. Nerrow didn't need to look at the mail slot to know where he was.

Nerrow smiled in the darkness, his teeth milk white and sharp. "You've been a bad boy Mr. Teivel." The Archan purred, tendrils of wispy mist snaking along the ground to slowly encircle the man.

Unaware, he straightened under the predator's soulless gaze. "I suppose she hired you to scare me off?" he inquired arrogantly. "Tsk tsk. I shall have to... correct her behavior. You can't touch me, dear kitty. Whatever organization you work for, I can most certainly end your career with a single phone call." So saying, he flipped open a cell phone.

The tendril of dark mist at Mr. Teivel's elbow darted forward and punched through the phone with such force that the pieces flew out of his hand and off into the darkness.

"I think you've mistaken me for a working citizen." Nerrow murmured silkily, "Tsk. Tsk. I shall have to correct your mistaken assumptions."

Blood drained from the man's face.

"Say good night, Mr. Teivel."

Mist hardened into a blade so fine that there was little resistance when it sliced the man's throat open.

Gripping an orb, Nerrow drew out the dying man's soul until the last of it had fled from the dying body, causing all systems to fail instantly.

Settling the now glowing orb into his sack, Nerrow turned away from the scene and melted into the shadows. Never having touched the body, there was no DNA to leave behind.

Returning home, Nerrow found Alicia slumped on the couch, drying tear tracks marring both cheeks. She had obviously sunk into an exhausted sleep.

At Malifall's head shake, he confirmed the woman had not tried to leave. The empty cider mug sat neatly on the living room table, waiting for him to pick it up and take care of it.

"What will you do?" The question was neutral, but Nocturo was eyeing the woman speculatively.

"I will do... what I must." Mist enveloped the Archan once more, and he closed in on the sleeping woman.

*

A loud pounding on the door made Alicia sit up abruptly in bed, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Oh god what a dream! Or a nightmare to be more precise! To think that she had gone to that terrifying creature's lair! But... how could she have? Raking her mind with sleep addled thoughts, she finally settled on one answer; dream logic made no sense.

Of course. She had no memory of finding the beast's lair, or how she could have gotten there, just the hazy, rapidly fading dream of leaving her home... and arriving in a cave far beneath the earth with orbs of light that made her stomach churn. The details were fading fast, as any dream did.

The pounding came again and she stumbled to the front door. Thane, one of her Mortikings, answered the door first, growling menacingly in case it was that rat bastard who had been stalking her. His bared teeth were hastily covered at the sight of two police officers standing on the front step, grim faced and holding a notebook and pad of paper.

CSI team members were swarming outside her gate. A body bag was lifted into the back of the coroner's transport vehicle. Flashes of light dazzled her eyes even at a distance as they took photographs at the scene.

"Sorry to bother you ma'am, but we have some routine questions for you." The officer announced. Numbly she let them in.

"Were you home all night last night?"

"Yes."

"Did you go outside at all?"

"No."

"Did you hear anything unusual outside?"

"No."

"When was the last time anyone left the house for any reason?"

Everyone looked at everyone else, then her Tigrean piped up, "Seven. The sun was still up. I took the garbage out." He pointed to a blood spattered trash can waiting patiently outside the gate for the dump transport to pick it up. An Investigator was swabbing it carefully.

"What's going on?" Alicia asked anxiously.

"That's what we're trying to figure out ma'am," one of the officers grunted, stone faced.

The questioning was brief and efficient. She finally got it out of them that there was another victim of the Dark Predator right outside her gates; apparently her stalker had been out and about after dark in spite of the enforced curfew placed upon the city.

Her shock at his death was minor but genuine; she wasn't surprised that the Dark Predator had taken another victim, but she hadn't known that he'd been attacked until she woke up that morning.

She gave them her case number so they could look up her complaints against him as part of their investigation, but she knew that little would come of it. The Dark Predator killed criminals. That was well known. It wasn't like anyone could hire the terrible creature; it was on its own killing spree with unknown motives. The only ones that survived the whole ordeal were the ones that the Archan had no interest in, also for unknown reasons. She accepted the officer's card and promised to contact them if she recalled anything else about that night.

Shutting the door behind them, she slumped to the floor, tears of relief streaming down her face as she embraced her pets.

She was free.

She was free!

***

A tiny light flickered in the orb Nerrow gripped delicately in his left paw. It stuttered, and then went out. The tiny portion of a soul inside had been used up and extinguished. And with it, went the memories of the human who had come to his lair. She would live the rest of her life healthy and free; such a tiny bit of soul would be unnoticed. Humans shared bits of soul all the time; shared in things like hugs, companionship and emotional attachments. Increments as tiny as a memory no more than a few hours long were minimal. It would regenerate in less than a day.

Placing the now empty orb back into his sack in preparation for the next night's soul collecting, Nerrow watched the sun set... and began to smile.

Art

black lion art by ???? (please contact me!)
Profile design by Ziva
Image by Arcablue
Image 1 and Image 2 by User not found: thecolorbrown
Image by Vapid_Schadenfreude
Image by Kirs
Image by Wist
Image by Hermai

Veteran Of The Psychic Wars by Blue Oyster Cult
You see me now a veteran of a thousand psychic wars
I've been living on the edge so long
Where the winds of limbo roar
And I'm young enough to look at
And far too old to see
All the scars are on the inside
I'm not sure if there's anything left of me

Don't let these shakes go on
It's time we had a break from it
It's time we had some leave
We've been living in the flames
We've been eating up our brains
Oh, please don't let these shakes go on

You ask me why I'm weary, why I can't speak to you
You blame me for my silence
Say it's time I changed and grew
But the war's still going on dear
And there's no end that I know
And I can't say if we're ever...
I can't say if we're ever gonna to be free

Don't let these shakes go on
It's time we had a break from it
It's time we had some leave
We've been living in the flames
We've been eating out our brains
Oh, please don't let these shakes go on

You see me now a veteran of a thousand psychic wars
My energy's spent at last
And my armor is destroyed
I have used up all my weapons and I'm helpless and bereaved
Wounds are all I'm made of
Did I hear you say that this is victory?

Don't let these shakes go on
It's time we had a break from it
Send me to the rear
Where the tides of madness swell
And been sliding into hell
Oh, please don't let these shakes go on
Don't let these shakes go on
Don't let these shakes go on