Corruption (A Lovesick Moose)

When Setomaru heard he could learn how to control his Bijuu better by going to the Shadow Lands, he quickly grabbed his glider and was on his way to the place in less than you could say one tailed tanooki. Of course, him and Shukaku were already friends, but it was kind of annoying to have the beast always ready to come out whenever it wanted. He usually had it under control, but every now and then, it came out.


Remind me where we're going again?


Shukaku's voice boomed in his head. Setomaru chose not to answer with much truth, seeing as the Bijuu probably wouldn't approve of it.


I'm going to...uh...free you. A little.

Setomaru felt the Bijuu in his stomach, looking confused at first, but then grinning with hope. Shukaku was happy for once. Setomaru had to let the Tanooki get it's hopes up so Setomaru could try to train him. He finally found a clearing in the forest, and sat down, beginning to meditate.

The Caretaker Spirit of War stood atop the mountain cliff-side as he looked across the Shadow Lands. His job was to serve the Spirits who had succeeded the Gedo Mazo and the other Gods when they left this world. Him and his brothers, Famine, Pestilence and Death. Together they held the keys to the heavens themselves, and were tasked with stemming the ever-growing human population that, without the horsemens' guidance, would quickly become too large for this world alone. So War, Famine, Pestilence and Death took men, and women and children and animals from their normal lives and threw them each into their own personal hell.

Sometimes War, Famine and Pestilence got to play with the humans a lot before their youngest brother, Death, took them. But mostly, Death was so fast that none of the other horsemen could catch up with him. He took the lives of all he saw fit. Never showing mercy, but never taking someone before their time was up. Death, perhaps, was the most widespread yet reserved of the horsemen siblings. War slaughtered as he pleased, though for the amount he killed meant that did not need to kill as often as the others. Pestilence and Famine seemed to be more prevalent than him, but of course, still none more so than Death. The end of all things. War, with his hollow, circular mouth ringed with rows of sharp, saw-like teeth, let out a horrible rattle that sounded like the growling of some horrible machine or beast intent on swallowing the world hole.

War watched as a young human, an Air-bender, flew towards the sanctuary of the spirits. Though something was different about this human child...there was a spirit within him. Trapped, and unhappy. "Too strong..." rattled War. He snarled, the pulled a horn from hip and blew into it, letting out a deep, bellowing, mournful trumpet from the animal horn. He called for his siblings, and in no time, they would come, and together the four of them would swarm this human and have their fun before freeing the spirit from within his fleshy prison.

Setomaru's eyes opened quickly as he heard a large horn being sounded. He got up quickly, using his air bending to rise with ease. Arching a brow, he looked around. Were there still alot of people here? He thought it was almost completely abandoned.


Hold on. I feel spirits. They're near.


What do you mean? Are they good spirits?


I don't know. All I know is that they're...big. Powerful. I don't think they'll be able to harm us very much, but just...keep your guard up.


Right.


Setomaru tensed up a bit as Shukaku told him to be on his best guard. His eyes darted back and forth around the clearing. He'd never had to deal with spirits before, this was a whole new thing to him. Hopefully, Shukaku would know what to do.


They're getting closer...

War soon met up with his brothers, all three of them on horseback as well. Their horses neighed and pawed the ground, snorting up clouds of steam that erupted from their nostrils like smoke from a volcano. They let out low knickers as their riders reigned them in. Silently, through his mind, War sent images, feelings, words, thoughts, all soundlessly, to his siblings, showing them exactly what he had witnessed and felt. With a low grumble, he pointed into the sky, in the direction he could feel the massive energy that was this Air Bender child.

Famine let out a silent rasp, the sound of life leaving a man. Of starvation and wheezing. It sounded like a death rattle when he spoke. Though his words were only sounds to most, War understood what his brother was insinuating. They would all take turns attacking this child, each getting a chance to claim the glory that would be his death.

Then Pestilence spoke. His voice was the cry of the ill and dying. The sound of men and women dying from pox and plague, screaming as pain wracked their body and destroyed them from the inside out. The scream and wails of orphaned children watching their families die around them before they slowly died themselves. The shriek of rats and crows and other vermin as they fed on the bodies of the dead and decaying. His breath smelled of rot and the faint smell of burning bodies, and as his cape billowed in the wind, it carried the sound of funeral pyres, burning the bodies of the damned dead. He too agreed with his brother's proposal.

Death said nothing, but simply nodded his fiercely horned head. The sound of rattling bones game in lieu of a grunt of agreement, and together the four horsemen charged off through the knotted, wild trees and underbrush. Stampeding off towards their prey. With a mighty roar, War led the charge, and when they came upon the boy, standing in a clearing, and circled him, still mounted upon their wicked steeds. Roar let out another shock wave that his roar, and shook the trees and scared away any spirits or animals that lived in the area. "Human!" shouted War with a voice like clashing armies, clanking armour, slicing weapons. Metal reeving flesh and undoing mail. The sound of death by the blade, and armies roaring in ferocity as they charged towards each other, "You desecrate these lands and all spirits by trapping one within you! What say you?!"

Setomaru was left only to put his hands up, spread his legs, and bend his knees in a fighting position. He didn't have his giant bag of sand with him, so he couldn't really use that to his advantage. If anything, he would probably be at a disadvantage at this point, no equipment, and just him against four possibly deadly spirits. He totally had this...totally. His bijuu's failed attempts to reassure him weren't exactly the most comforting.

Stop being a wimp. Usually came up. In fact, that was probably what came up the most. At this point the kid was deciding on just leaving all together. But he'd never actually seen a spirit, so his curiosity took over, and he decided to stay, relying on Shukaku for help. Then one of them spoke, talking about how he was trapping a spirit within him.

"Well...it wasn't exactly my fault...." He said, sheepishly, but refusing to let his speech become wavery. "What do you want with me?" He asked, boldly.

"It is not what we want with you," barked War in a guttural tone that sounded like he was chewing on rocks and speaking from the back of his throat at the same time, "But what we want from you.  We want your life child!  And we shall take it by force if we have to!  You shall fight us all, one by one.  Each of highly deadly, impossibly old, and unbeatable spirits of an unknown power.  We are the guardians of the afterlife for the spirits and gods above.  Do you accept our challenge?  Or will you run like a frightened coward and hide behind your mother's skirts?  Either way...my brother shall find you and take you in the end."

War motioned his brother death.  Silent and rasping he was.  His voice sounded like wind blowing through a graveyard, and rasped and rattled like a death moan.  His empty eyes hollow, and lifeless, two big black empty sockets.  His mouth ajar slightly, like his jaw was unhinged and his horns, big and heavy, were splattered with blood, guts and gore from...something.  He and his horse remained completely still, completely unmoving, and were it not for the sound of his breathing, it would be impossible to know if they were statues or beings.

War, still on his red charger, stepped forward first, and raised his sword at the child.  "You shall fight me first!" he yelled again, and with the jolt of his bloody spurs into the bleeding haunches of his horse, the beast launched itself forward into a gallop as War, on its back, prepared to swing his sword and bring it down upon the boy's head, cleaving it and him clean in two.  He would be a bifurcated monkey-child soon.