This tale is one of murder and hardship, it is about a twisted man, and his perilous quest to save the people he cares about. (This story was started by my little brother Willanatorls. He can't write. But , as a loving older sister and as the person that exposed him to protag in the first place, I'm re-writting it better.)
Raying dragged his weary feet through the burning red sands. The sun was setting on the horizon before him, dying the sky the same shade as the blood that soaked his hands. He struggled to see through his right eye, It had a gash down the centre, impairing his vision. It stang until his eye watered from the pain, the tears mingled with the dried blood still lingering on his cheek. He didn't allow his mind to wander as he walked, he was too focused on staying alive.
His mind was suddenly pierced by a heart wrenching scream, followed by angry gun-shots in the distance. He closed his hand around the handle of his weapon, a beautiful, army issue, sword-gun. Raying mustered what little energy was left in his exhausted body and rushed towards the sound.
The sight before him was like something from a movie, a beautiful young woman, tied to a dead tree. A maniac from Raying's past, laughing as he held a gun to her fair head.
The man was a mercenary from the army that had slain his team-mates, his friends. Raying figured now was a good time for some revenge, no matter how slight.
He didn't pause to think. He merely lifted his weapon and fired a single shot into the man's skull, he died on the spot, his wretched body hidden by the blood red sand. He used his weapon to cut the girl free. She collapsed to the ground.
"Are you ok?" Raying's voice was harsh and distant, made vicious by years of army training. Not that that was of any use to him now. All it had done was make him a killer.
The girl was blood soaked, it seemed that was the fashion at the moment. She was injured too. Once again a style that was becoming increasingly popular. She opened her mouth to speak, but all she could do in her current state was gasp for breath.
Raying put his weapon back into the holster he carried on his back and lifted her with ease. Her breathing was becoming shallow, if she was going to live she needed medical assistance. And soon. He climbed to the top of a nearby sand dune, and in the corner of his eye he caught sight of a small broken airship, crashed on the edge of a forest.
"Is that your ship?"
He hadn't expected an answer, so was pleased when he got one.
"Yeah..." Her voice was gentle, like falling snow, she didn't sound like the type of person who had endured any hardships, but he could tell from one look she had.
As he began to make his way towards to broken vessel two figures emerged from the ship. As he watched them a blast of green light comsumed their bodies and the teleported to a few feet in front of him.
On closer inspection Raying could make out that the smaller of the pair was a Yllautca, an alien race that had only just taken up residence on this planet, they were odd looking creatures, with dirty yellow skin, and horns like a bull. They walked on two legs with a turtle-like shell on their backs, which they used to carry their belongings. With him was a muscular biker in thick, black leather with red stripes down his arms. It was this man that spoke to Raying.
"You alright there fella'? Is that Tyah?! 'Ere you look exhausted, give 'er to me, come back to our ship with us and 'ave a drink!"
Raying tried to force a smile in response, but it had been so long he had forgotten what one was meant to look like. The result of his effort was more like a grimace. He passed Tyah over to the biker. He couldn't sense any malice in these people, and they were his best shot at survival. For a moment Raying was relived, big mistake. The moment he thought he wasn't about to die he was unable to carry himself any longer, he passed out in the sand.
"The man is tired. I will warp him back with us."
"Thanks Nox. You're alright, for a space bug."
"The feeling is mutual."