Kneel

Randi:

Who turned out the lights? Motherfucker!
Last thing I remember, the ladies were fixing to hand out a serious case of ‘ASS WHOOPIN’, and then a strange black mist appeared around E.
Fucking Lights-Out after that.

“Randi?” Flinching back from the static shock that ripped through the darkness, causing the thick silk-like substance to ripple out in frantic waves of shimmering black liquid.

“Randi.” The familiar singsong voice pulled me from the rippling waves of silky blackness, groaning against the achy throb that slammed behind my eyes, squinting against the intense glare of the cloudy sky as Izzy and Rex helped me up to my feet.

“What happened?” Scanning over the arena with about ninety percent of the crowd still unconscious, hunched over or crumpled up in lifeless heaps along the ground as the others who were awake, slowly examined and waded through the mass piles of people. Snapping around to where the ladies had been standing fixing to enact punishment, but something was wrong.

“RANDI!” Rex called out.

Sprinting over toward the center of the field kicking my shoes off in mid-run, hoisting Bain’s groggy ass up from the ground. Backhanding him like the Bitch he really was.

“Where is she?” Snarling in his smug face as Mei and Thyra helped secure the other two with a few guards that appeared from the access tunnels.

“How am I supposed to know ‘Douche Canoe’?” Backhanding that smug smirk clean off his taunting face.

“Keep fucking mocking me. I have plenty backhands to dish out on that wasted handsome face of yours.” Reaching back for another swing, clenching back a fist as a forceful hand gripped my shoulder, snapping around fixing to layout the asshole that touched me, halted by the fierce grayish-blue eyes staring back at me with an intimidating aura of ‘Death’.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Wrong fucking person to provoke.

“Release my great-grandson. I’ll handle him.” His gravelly Nordic accent only added to the coldness of those words as his cold eyes slid over to a scoffing Bain, tossing his smug ass to the ground like he was liquid napalm.

Bowing my head in respect, stepping back enough to examine the situation fully.

“I don’t know who the FUCK you are, but you can ‘Fuck Off’ back to wherever you came from, gramps.” Bain stood slowly, dusting off his shredded sweatpants and hands in a cloud of sandy grit, snorting at his brother as he shook off the strange grogginess that still blanketed the arena.

“You will show HIM respect.” Thyra stomped over with her fists clenched tightly to her sides, gripping the gritty earth with her toes as Jorvik tilted his head enough to look down at the feisty woman with a creepy smirk lifting his thin lips.

“Kneel.” The snarling growl sounded like someone had summoned a creature from the darkest realms of hell. Flinching back at the urge to ‘kneel’ commanded to Bain, his smug expression paling into silent terror as his knees buckled out from under him.

Side glancing the grinning ladies as they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, snarling down at Bain submitting to a powerful were-bear, his fingers massaging through the sandy earth, clenching his teeth in a snarling grumble as sweat beads formed along his forehead.

“You may be blood related, but you are not worthy of the blood that flows through your veins. A true Black Claw looks death in the eyes, spits in its face while standing proud in the name of the Gods.” Shivering against the spine-tingling wave of static energy that roared through my body, noticing a few of the Black Claw guards escorting a chained and shackled train wreck called ‘Dani and Patrick’.

“I’m going to ask this once, and once only. Where…is…my granddaughter?” Looking over my shoulder at the guys standing firmly with scowling expressions. Tossing Rex a quick wink as he stood back with the guys, keeping alert to all of the participants currently residing in the arena.

Jorvik snapped his black cloak away, kneeling with a lethal gracefulness slipping the hand-carved axe from his belt. His calloused fingers gripped the oil treated handle just under the axe’s neck like an ancient brass-knuckle, squeezing it tightly with that squeaking crumpling of braided leather as Bain’s darkened ambers stared him down defiantly.

“How should I fucking know? I’ve been pre-occupied lately.” No one was prepared for the sudden snap in motion as the axe flipped through the air, slicing Patrick’s skull like a fucking melon as a blanket of sticky crimson painted Dani’s stunned face before a blood curdling scream ripped from her lips in hysteria.

Jorvik shifted back around in his kneeling stance, accepting a fresh axe from one of his personal guards that stood behind Bain’s frozen expression.

“I know your history with them. I know the pain you inflicted on my granddaughter, and the pain you brought upon your mother while she watched you become a monster right before her very own eyes. I should split your skull for the pain you inflicted, but that punishment will be handed down by Elicia in her own way. Your mate on the other hand, seems quite upset with the loss of her side fuck, tell me… do monsters feel pain?” Again with the sudden snap in motion as the axe sliced through the air, slamming into the sobbing mouth of Dani, her jaw splitting open like some gruesome scene from a horror movie where the victims jaw is forced open unnaturally.

The guards flinching their eyes closed as the sticky streams of crimson splattered across their emotionless features like a sprinkler, gasping in mocked shock as their muscular tongues slid along their lips, smirking in delight with the taste of blood.

Jesus-Fucking-Lord-Almighty! That’s brutal as fuck.

“I guess monsters are truly heartless.” Jorvik looked over his shoulder at Bain snarling out with a twisted grin laced across his face. Dani’s lifeless body dropped to the ground in delay as her knees buckled under her in a splattering canvas of slimy crimson and muddy earth.

“Tell me what I want to know?” Jorvik looked over at the Watchmen, gauging their cold expressions studying the twisted and mangled bodies of their former ‘trainees’.

“Who the fuck made you ‘God’? You’re nothing but an old man with a fur rug draped over his shoulders.” The demonic laughter that roared from his broad chest scared us all back a step, except for Mei and Thyra looking at each other with bright smiles of creepiness.

“Grandfather, leave him be for now. His time is coming, but we need to find Elicia.” Everyone nodded in agreement as Jorvik stood tall over Bain looking up from his kneeling pose.

Max and JR leisurely strolled over with chuckling grins, briefly examining the dead bodies contaminating the sandy earth with their disgusting blood, before joining Jorvik with slight head nods. Noticing a strange whiteish-green mist floating around the guys as they silently conversed among themselves.

“Peyton.” Max commanded firmly as he studied Jorvik with a tilted grin.

“Yes.” Peyton appeared quickly with an uncertain expression laced across his features, quickly spooked unresponsive as massive arms wrapped around his neck, dropping him down to his knees in a choke hold. Jorvik’s stone expression perked everyone’s curiosity, whispering into his ear in a gravely rasp causing Peyton to still in place, dropping his hands down to his sides in surrender.

“Grandfather, he knows where he messed up and has accepted his punishment.” Thyra spoke firmly, looking down at the brute of a man choking the life from her son, who turned a unique shade of blueish-red. Gasping in relief as the massive arms constricting his airway, dropped his limp body into the sandy earth with a solid ‘ouf!’ and cloudy poof of gritty dirt.

“Yes, I know. He will be returning to Black Claw with me for proper training and punishment.” Jorvik offered a wheezing Peyton his hand, snapping him to his feet in a forceful snap of his muscular arm.

“Let me take a good look at my grandson and great-grandson.” Jorvik motioned to Peyton with his eyes to stand next to Max, choking back a chuckle at the strange expression painted across the infamous ‘Black Bear’ as he shared a perked brow with Peyton and JR.

“By-colored eyes, strong jawline, broad chest, addiction to ink and piercings like your grandfather, I like that. A true ‘Warrior’.” The prideful gleam etched across Max’s said it all as both men embraced in a manly hug of powerful palm smacks against each other’s backs, grumbling whispers between them as they pulled apart, turning their attention to Peyton looking like a fish out-of-water with an open mouth.

“You will train and learn to be a ‘warrior’, a true Black Claw descendant. You have your mother’s features, thankfully, but your father’s scrawny build. Do you have a ‘mate’? If so, arrangements will be made for proper housing. Mated couples live outside of the main house.” Peyton froze solid at the mentioning of his mate, and Jorvik pounced on it like a fucking grizzly snatching a fresh salmon from the river.

“What did you do?” Jorvik stepped into Peyton’s panicked stance, feeling the need to save the poor idiot.

“Jorvik, Bailey is currently being treated at the Vampire castle. Desmond’s brother, Helmer, fed his blood to her while she was unconscious so she’s currently in ‘changeling’ status.” Tossing a soft smile to Peyton as his swirling ambers dropped to the ground in shame.

“She rejected me.” His voice came out weak and unsure.

“She rejected Peyton, not Dax.” Patting his shoulder with a friendly smile.

“We hate to interrupt this family meeting, but we have a serious problem. Desmond and Izzy haven’t returned from the castle, and we just tried to ‘poof’ with fail. No one can gain access.” Elias shook Jorvik’s outstretched hand with a firm nod of recognition as the other three brother’s followed suit with firm shakes and head nods.

At least someone is thinking with their fucking head.