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Lucian wanted to do something, to think of something, but he was spited by the movement of the Jabberslythe that was going to give him no time to relax or care. The monster, being an abomination above all, was already less caring for the wounds that Lucian had inflicted upon it and was already moving towards him with those deathly claws extended.
Lucian found himself dodging from the blow, sending himself to the ground being the only option as the monster tried to rip out his torso. Though the ground was not where he wanted to be as half the chorus of voices made it known that Lucian was weak down below the beast.
They were mocking him. The voices were mocking that Lucian had done an action which was surely reasonable at the time but only delayed his death. A maddening excuse that would surely lead to his death if he allowed them to land. He had to ignore them even though they were calling him a coward for not just having tougher skin to absorb the blow.
He rolled out of the way and slammed himself against the fools. His mind shaking as he narrowly dodged a crushing blow against his head by the massive monster. The dirt was slammed up as he rolled onto his feet, shakily, but standing once again.
But what was he to do now that he was upon his feet. The voices did not help and they were still aching. He could feel them overwhelm, taking him in and out of consciousness as the creature looked at him with what was contempt and annoyance. It knew that Lucian was struggling against its presence and was simply wanting him to keel over and die.
One second he was standing, the next Lucian felt pain surge as his left shoulder was ripped into by the fanged tongue of the monster. It gave a wicked pull, ripping skin, muscle, and blood across the floor as Lucian gave a deathly scream of pain.
As the pain grew great the voices grew louder. All of them giving Lucian some words of defeat or suggestion on how to best get himself killed. That he should bow to those dark powers that the Jabberslythe served and accept their mercy upon his life.
There, his mind snapped for a second, and he spoke, “Morr, Lady, I pray.” Lucian asked as he gripped his weapon tightly, “Help me…”
Yet they did not answer him, for they could not. What he was hearing was not the voices of simple madness, but the voices of Chaos and Thirsting Gods. Their laughter now ascendent as they knew they had Lucian within this grasp.
>Berserk Rage
>Flee
>A little help
