"Need a little help here! For being my eyes you're pretty blind!" A brash man's voice shouts through a damaged microphone.
A hooded man examines the room. This is the first year after I left The Cult. The hooded male steps over the gutted blonde male. "Three to your left, then six to your right in 12 seconds." The male replies through the microphone, changing his voice to fit the recently deceased.
"Finally!" The brash voice replies before concrete starts to crack.
"Shit! Everyone get moving!" A different voice can be heard from over the com.
"Fuck no! Anchor![1]" The sound of running feet is quickly replaced with the sound of flesh hitting flesh, then bones cracking.... Then it all stops; the cracking concrete, the smashing glass, the screams, even Corvus' rugged breath.
"Why are you so rapacious?" The hooded male asks through the earpiece with audible anguish.
Corvus tuts. "It's how I was 'raised', if you can even call it that." With a loaded sigh Corvus continues. " 'The strong has a right to breed.' is what I was always told in The Cult. Its stuck in me, that and their way of justice is all I knew it is all I do and even after 300 years I can not find away to stop."
As feet can be heard slowly stampeding towards him, Corvus staggers to his feet. "In my last life I lived 600 years and found away to change, problem is that sick fuck became a necrophile. But even in his last moments he tried to tell me something and I don't know what."
The hooded man leaves a stagnant pause between them. "This is the last batch, they have six Cacumen from your right. Dispatch them, and then we'll cut our ties."
"Aye..." Corvus responds with a chilled anger; that carries through the fight as the six mercenaries comment about the barbaric, animalistic fighting style, until no one was left to speak.
Corvus pants before continuing to crush a corpse's head against the wall, unnecessarily.
The hooded male grunts through the intercom as he finishes bagging the blonde corpse. "I hate you. Not dislike you, or hate a certain part of you; I despise you as a whole."
"Yeah, that's the goal; did ya forget? I want to be hated as much as I want to be loved: I don't deserve tears at my funeral but I don't deserve someone spitting on my corpse either." Corvus starts pouring gasoline around the abandoned building.
"So many fires happen around here you have to wonder if any would call the firefighters. I hate that I got married, had a child that I actually spent time with. Originally I thought it'd be better if I wasn't in any of their lives in case the cult goes for them first, which they did." He sighs emptying the last few drops and retrieving another from his back pack.
"And now I have a child that I trained, loved and spent time with; I have a wife who isn't the strongest but she's got heart, one big enough to love me... They'll cry at my funeral, I know it."
"Just because I despise you doesn't mean you should waste time trying to burn yourself as well; we both know you'll live." The hooded figure interjects over the com, as if he was watching Corvus. "Just spend more time with them, you got stories your wife will still find interesting. You don't have to hunt around for drama or another piece of your heart.
"The girls that occupy my harem are pieces that me and her agree upon... Another reason why her heart is too big, she's content-" I suppose, or simply silent "- with me having multiple of women I actually consider a part of my heart. You know, I try to make it so they care enough for her to treat her as a dear friend or even their second mother."
Corvus laughs as he steps outside of the building. "She doesn't make it difficult, not at all. In the event that I die she'll have a fucking massive group of women to be there. We've been married for 180 years and really been through some shit from both sides. You can hate me until the day come when one of us isn't around, but you won't be able to forgo the times we enjoyed each other's company. I ain't allowing it."
[1] Had to break my own rule for this one.