The Blood Omen

It was nighttime. Red Colored Moon hangs in the sky, In a jungle, huge trees were swaying with wind. A black shadow was speeding among the trees; from this branch to that, it was sprinting very fast.

After sprinting as fast as he could, Omen stopped on a tree branch that had a lot of leaves on it and tried to hide himself among them.

His breathing was ragged, his face worn with exhaustion, and he looked fatigued—there was a hint of panic as well. 

On the ground near the tree where Omen was hiding, 18 shadows appeared one by one. The Shadow casted by the Red Moon light looked big and enormous

Right under the tree that Omen was hiding, a powerful voice sounded: "Divide into three teams, six men each, and go in different directions and search."

They coordinated well even in the dark night, made three teams, and went in different directions; coincidentally they did not check the tree Omen was hiding.

Omen was trembling a little and holding his breath as much as he could to not get caught. After sensing his pursuer's were gone far, he felt a little relieved. 

A few hours ago.

In a cramped cell, a man in his late teens or early twenties sat quietly. His face was pale, his dull red eyes lifeless, and his short black hair disheveled. He wore nothing but a pair of shorts, and his body was covered in scars, from head to toe. His left arm hung limp, leaving him to rely solely on his right hand for basic tasks, like drinking water. 

This was his new cell. From what Omen could recall, this was his life: killing for his family, being locked in the prisons they built, then released to kill again. Afterward, the family physician would perform surgery and experiments on him for reasons he never understood. And then, more killing. He was sick of it.

"I've got another job for you." A powerful voice sounded beside the only candle in the damp cell, and a man's silhouette could be seen sitting near the candle.

" Grandfather, Can I not do this?" Omen, who was inside the cell, approached the man and made a request.

"Don't call me grandfather, hmmph. The mere fact that I have bestowed upon you the name "Ashenroot" does not imply that you are eligible to be my grandson; it is important to remember that you are a fucking mixed-blood." The old man's voice sounded angry.

"I understand, so why? Why did you give me this name? just to have me in shackles? Or to cut me open anytime you want?" Omen's voice sounded frustrated and tired.

The man in question stood up and approached Omen. He looked handsome, even though he was old, with golden-colored hair that shone in the flickering candlelight. He stood as tall as Omen, 6 feet 5 inches, and met his glowing silver-colored eyes with Omen's dull red ones. In a measured yet commanding tone, he said, "You were born from my son, so you're one of us. Your mixed blood makes you nothing more than a slave to us. Do you understand, boy? You're like a free slave I don't even need to buy." 

Omen gritted his teeth in anger, and his dull red eyes started to glow like flickering dying embers. 

" Humph." The old man was unimpressed.

Omen, who was beginning to transform, was stopped by this sound and was thrown flying far into the corner. His eyes returned to the dull shade of red. Blood was visible in the corner of his mouth.

"I will forgive you, not because this is your curse; no, because I have a mission only you can accomplish." The old man's authoritative voice sounded once again.

"This is the last time I am killing someone for you, you are going to set me free after this," Omen said while wiping the blood stains from the corner of his mouth. Determination could be seen in his eyes.

"Free? Very well, it's a deal." The old man, his cunning eyes gleaming, smiled as he solemnly promised Omen of freedom. 

"These are the details; we are very close to the location; I specifically positioned this cell closer to your target; don't you feel grateful?" With pride, the old man spoke and handed Omen a piece of paper.

Omen just took the paper from the old man and sat down on the damp floor.

The old man vanished into thin air after delivering the paper. He appeared out of the room in front of it's door.

A huge person who was guarding the door was alerted at first by the sudden arrival of someone. Upon seeing the old man, he kneeled in front of him and said, "Your holiness."

Nodding his head, the old man said, "Release him when he wants to," then vanished again.

The old man reappeared. In front of a huge tree, a cave entrance could be seen in the background Now that he was outside, The Old man was wearing a purple robe and a small silver crown on his head. He was in a jungle. After waiting for a while and glancing to the left, he said, "Took you a bloody long time."

18 shadows appeared, all of them huge, standing on a tree branch. The leader among them said, "We are sorry, Grand Vindicator, You know how this Jungle is; we were 50 as you instructed, but only 18 remain."

"I only need 18 men for this job; take care of that mixed-blooded brat after he kills the bitch," Grand Vindicator stated. 

'Hmm, I thought 17 would make it inside alive; they send a good team,' Old Man thought, then he proceeded to walk slowly, deeper into the jungle.

There were 18 huge shadow like beings who were wearing black drapes scattered around the cave, waiting for the right moment to follow Omen.

Omen, who was inside the cave in a cell, was preparing for the mission he was given, which was to kill a woman who was living deep in the jungle. He doesn't know who she was, nor does he have any interest; he just wants to be free from this hellish life.