GUESS WHAT

YOU GUYS ARE GETTING A BONUS CHAPTER

THIS IS SEPARATE FROM THE CHAPTER BOMB, AND JUST SOMETHING THAT I THOUVHT ID ADD IN, SO ENJOY YOU BASTARDS AND HEADS UP CAUSE I LOVE ALL OF YOU

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Red.

Everything was red.

Nothing was right-

Everything needed to be gone.

It was agony.

Staring forward at people, seeing nothing but an enemy- seeing nothing but false blood.

Voices paraded in his head- swimming left and right, from one side of his mind to the other, swaying the metaphorical boat so much that there was no buoyancy in his mind.

The ship was sunk.

Falling deeper and deeper into the red depths of his mind, everyone on board chanting and parading, and loving the fact that right now?

He wanted blood just as much as them.

Fuck.

Techno could barely focus.

Did he just hit someone's house??

Fuck-

He thinks he did.

Retirement arc.

What happened to that?

This was a small stealth mission- where he was supposed to dig around for his....

Kinda friend....

Friend he wasn't sure felt comfortable around him-

Friend he sometimes looked at and felt the overwhelming need to just...

To just-

Fuck

Red-

He pinched at his nose-

Pink braid swinging as he paused his movements.

Blurry silhouettes surrounded him, sounds coming from them, but not sounds he could understand.

All he could understand was red.

Blood.

Violence.

Take it.

Breathe it.

Let it sink into his bones.

Let it tear him asunder and peice his marrow back together with even more red.

Did he just kill someone?

No?

Then why was his sword buried in something?

Why did he hear screams-

The voices grew happier- swelling with their whispers and yells, unifying and screaming out for their god.

Whoever he hit is alive.

That much he knows.

And then, the red burnt out, and all at once he felt drained.

His whole body sagged, nearly tumbling over-

And he became suddenly aware of everything around him.

A house is collapsed beside him.

Quackity is holding onto a- red-

RED RED

BLOOD

BLOOD

QUACKITY GONNA CRY?

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

...

Fuck.

No.

Techno can't hear himself think.

Quackity is holding onto his bleeding cut. That he. Techno. gave him.

Techno barely recalls hitting him, much less what happened after, but he knows his strength potion faded, so before their whole L'manberg crew snaps out of their stupor, Techno chugs another strength.

Cork off.

Burning potion knocked back his against his throat-

Any clarity he has is instantly sapped away.

Red....

Red, Red.

Annnd... more red.

How was he supposed to focus?

Clearly he didn't need to, his body was moving, that much he could feel. His blade was slashing, his blood was thruming, strength oozed off him with every swing. Strength that could rip someone apart. Strength that he wanted to use to rip someone, anyone, apart.

Techno should've been alarmed at the fact that everything he was doing paired so well with his voices.

It should've been surprising that his wants were so aligned with their wants..

But he could care less.

Something hard got sliced by his blade, and the splintering of wood all but exploded- shooting peices of fiber everywhere.

The panicked noise after the splintering made him recognize that he just broke someone's shield.

Good.

No defenses.

Weak.

But then, the strength pumping through him faded.

And this time, the urge to kill and the red red red that hung in his eyesight stayed.

It didn't leave, so he kept swinging with no direction, feeling them narrowly dodge or shield attacks, but he didn't have the strength potion burning in him.

Strength potions lasted longer then that-

Why were these ones burning out so quickly??

Finally, the red peeled back, letting him see with clarity how much damage he had caused-

More blood- everywhere-

Quackity's slice was healed with what seemed to be a regen potion-

Several people were missing shields-

He needed more.

He needed the strength to last-

He uncorked another one- and they all rushed to stop him- but he chugged it, and dodged their axes and blades, feeling the air of their swings hit his figure.

Weak.

So, so weak.

But however much he wanted to stay- to put them all out of their misery- he had a calling.

A weak calling, that just barely tugged his consciousness away from bloodlust.

He couldn't find the compass.

One swing, two swing-

Soft flesh carved by his sword-

Retreat-

Three swift steps turned into running-

Techno was abandoning the fight that got started-

He failed his mission.

His hand reached into his satchel, feeling the smooth almost glass like consistency of an ender pearl, before reeling his arm back and tossing it.

He didn't know if he threw it in the right direction.

The red around him was obscuring his vision, but he really, really needed to reel himself in.

A small voice in the back of his head spoke up.

One that often got shoved away in favor of the many, much louder ones.

Not a foreign voice, not one alien to him, but his own voice. His small subconscious voice, that just barely picked up with the whisper of-

Remember Techno?

Retirement arc.

You had your fun with the 16th.

Retirement.

Of course.

But the bloodlust was so strong, and this time, instead of fading, it stayed.

And it grew.

The longer he went without that strength potion effect fizzling around him, the more he wanted to snap something in half.

So much so, that by the time he reached his house, he couldn't walk up the steps straight- heaving and huffing-

Just about rabid.

The scowl on his face felt hardened into his skin at this point, but he stumbled up eventually and slammed the door open.

The bloodlust hiked up.

Almost like the source of it all was sitting directly in front ot him.

The skull mask got tossed off, and he couldn't find it in him to apologize to his fathers bones-

He just-

He needed-

...

Fuck-

He just-

He didn't get to question his intentions any longer-

The source lept up, arms reaching out to support him-

But he took that as enough initiative.

He barreled into her.

Much smaller, always moderately cold her.

Of course she barely held up his weight, but he couldn't find it in him to care, letting himself sink onto her frame, feeling her slip and nearly fall, but somehow get enough grip to hold the both of them steady.

Strong little, weak little, soft little soul.

But then Techno breathed.

Catching her scent- and now more then ever- right now at this moment-

Even though he thought he'd never think this of her-

He wanted to rip her apart.

Blood and gore- thick rivulets of red streaming down his fists.

Even now, acting the most like the voices, they came to a disagreement.

NO

NO

NONONO

NOT HUG BUDDY

EEEEE NONONONONO

NONON

UH OH

UH OH GUYS

HUG BUDDY

PLS NO NOT HUG BUDDY-

They didn't want her dead. Even if everything in him was screaming to tear into her.

Fine.

He could compromise.

He's comprised before.

Especially with them.

So he nuzzled his nose farther into her neck-

And bit.

And she struggled-

And the voices got more panicked- because they knew his thoughts better then sometimes even himself-

That small thought in the back of himself rose.

Why do I need to compromise.

The bite got harder and harder, teeth digging deeper, red flowing quicker-

This was good.

This is what he wanted...

Wasn't it?

His falter in will was enough.

He loosened his grip- just for a second-

And then she shoved- and he stumbled- and things shattered, but he ended up near the door-

Techno looked at it.

Oh yeah.

Don't want the house getting cold. Not for his roommate.

And then, more red.