The sun descended into the horizon as a seventeen-year-old boy walked the cobblestone road. He was dressed in a hooded black leather trench coat with an armored chest piece, fingerless gloves, blue jeans and black leather jackboots. He had a bastard sword strapped to his back and throwing knives strapped to his sides on his belt.
The ever increasing darkness of the approaching night did not scare him, nor did the dark hallowed woods around him. He was… many things. Some would say hero, others a murderer. He couldn't deny either of those accusations. He had taken a profession in ridding the world of scum. From bandits to the White Fang.
He was near the next village, a sign that said "Lamplight" pointed down the road. He was needing rest, for he had walked ten miles since the last village. He was also in need of food and water, he hadn't eaten since yesterday. At the end of the road he could see a light, one that with every click of his boots turned into a town. The village had wooden walls and a gate; there were guards standing on the walls. One of them hailed the boy.
"Good timing stranger, we were about to close the gates for tonight. The Grimm are about to ravage through the woods and hunt for anything that moves." The Guard says, "You saved me the trouble of opening the gate again." The hooded boy was indifferent, he just walked straight into the town of Lamplight. The Guard just scoffed at his rudeness, "Cunt."
The boy walked for what appeared to be a tavern. It had "Shady" written all over it. There were drunk men out front and they joked about crude things. The boy just walked in and bore witness to a den of promiscuity: there were harlots sitting on stinky men's laps and thugs sat in the booths in the corner. A few workers from a nearby mine sat drinking whisky together singing hardy songs. The boy made his way to a counter to get a drink. The bartender and the innkeeper, a man in his mid thirties, looked at the mysterious boy clad in black.
"What do you want, boy?" He asked. The boy looked up at him with Crimson eyes.
"Water." The boy said with a soft but hard voice. The bartender grabbed a glass and a pitch of water and fulfilled his request. The boy took it and gulped it down. The bartender looked at him, observing him. His face had a scar that went up from his right cheek to and slashed upwards to the forehead, narrowly missing his right eye. His complexion was pale and his face stern. His eyes told the story of a troubled soul, but his eyebrows showed hate.
"So kid, what's your name?" He asked curiously.
"Haru Fenris." The boy answered.
"Well, why is it a teenage boy like you is traveling all by himself?" He inquired. Haru shot him a murderous stare.
"I'm seventeen, I'm old enough to take care of myself." He said rudely, "How do you even know I'm a teenager anyway, old man." The bartender smiled, surprisingly calm despite the boy's brashness.
"In this job, you learn to read people." The two were distracted when a girl screamed. Three men were harassing a girl with a tray; the girl was the Bartender's daughter. "Sarah!" The Bartender screamed, his neutral behavior shattered, got out from behind the counter and went up to them, Haru got up and followed. "You Bastards, get out of my bar!" Sarah saw him and dropped the tray.
"Dad!—" was all she could say before the main man, a hairy thug with a long rugged beard named Dar, grabbed her and held a machete against her throat.
"Pretty girl you got here John, me and my boys are going to have some fun with her..." He said with a thick voice. The whole debacle caught the entire Inns attention. One miner was getting up until his buddies grabbed him back down. John was mad, but worried, all he had was Sarah since his wife's death.
"Let her go Dar, she's not even eighteen!" John pleaded. Dar and his crew smiled pervertedly.
"Hey, the younger they are..." This caused everyone in the bar to recoil in disgust. Haru had rage in his eyes. People wanted to do something, even other thugs, but Dar and his crew were members of a nearby bandit enclave. Fearing retribution, they did nothing.
"Let her go, she's my daughter damn it!" John said desperately. Dar laughed cruelly.
"I will—after we have some fun tonight. Me and me boys are going to walk out of here and no one's going to do a thing about it." He said while pulling the girl closer to him. "And don't bother to try and get your asshat Guards to stop us, you know that if one of our crew is killed or jailed, we burn this place to the ground!" Dar licked Sarah's cheek, "Don't worry, we'll try and get you a grandchild, just don't expect to find out the father!" Haru couldn't stand it any longer and walked forward, causing everyone to look at him. "Stand back or I'll cut this whores neck!" Putting the blade deep against her throat.
"Let the girl go and fight me like a man." Haru challenged, pointing at him. Dar was furious at this stranger, no one in two-years had challenged him like that, in this village no less. He took his machete and pointed at Haru with it.
"Who in Oums name are you!?" He asked fiercely. Haru smiled.
"Your death." Dar was taken aback with his two goons.
"Do you have any idea who we are punk!"
"Dead men."
At this, Dar threw Sarah away and charged forward with his machete. As Sarah ran towards her dad, she saw Haru, he had no fear on his face. Dar was about to cut the boy when suddenly Haru grabbed his sword from his back and slung it in a side slash, cleaving him at the waist. His dying face was one of shock. Haru's sword had a black hilt and crossguard, a red blade with black runes carved into it and a weird violent crimson glow with red sparks covering it.
Goon number one attacked Haru with his axe but was dodged and cleaved in two from underneath his left arm and straight out of his right shoulder. Goon number three was about to stab him but was impaled through the throat by his sword, severing his skull from his spine. With a quick slash, his head fell off. Everyone was shocked at the fast, merciless brutality that had commenced in front of them. Haru just swung the blood off his red blade and walked towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Asked John tense, broken and afraid. Haru looked back to him.
"To kill the rest."