Board Thread:Important Logs/@comment-28929139-20170917002327/@comment-28929139-20170917002403

That being said, there was little to no life forms for these new demons to prey upon, apart from rodents, the heavily declining population of insects, and most crucially....humans. Shinobi all over the world were now being employed to find the remainders of plantlife and or any areas that still seemed to have fertile soil. Again, the first waves of people to be made aware of this problem were the farmers and persons living in the smaller, more rural villages.

Since the events of the church's destruction, nearly all the humans who had once resided in this misnomer of a place had fled their homes. And rightfully so, however, there had been a stubborn handful of families and groups that refused to leave. Among them had been jounin level shinobi, Arata Tonda.

https://orig10.deviantart.net/e3b2/f/2013/300/b/0/gouki_namikaze_by_arya_aiedail-d6s03gt.png

He was your average, run of the mill ninja with a standard command of ninjutsu and genjutsu but flourished most in taijutsu. Strong and fast as they came, he was one of twenty remaining shinobi after everyone left. Intimidating as that might have seemed, he had lived in this village long enough to know that its rather docile environment was thanks large in part to the nearby prison. Of course, since that day of the church burning down, strange things were happening and while for a few weeks, food had been plentiful, that was quickly changing. The four farms that helped keep the denizens of the village fed had all been abandoned and what animals were not taken had starved to death.

Needless to say, he was one of the first to be dispatched on a mission to investigate and perhaps recover any food he could find. Be it a cow or a wandering roadie that be able to make them wiser to the situation.

~

Nine miles north from the village, he walked through endless plains of dead grass and wilted plants. It was a hot day outside with no wind to offer him any reprieve, but it wouldn't be long before he happened upon a large stream running east. Having ridden horseback up to this point, he dismounted with the intent of quenching his thirst and also giving drink to his steed, which he tethered to a tree some 10 feet away. The water was cold and tasty sluicing down his throat upon first swig, but it didn't hit him until a couple seconds afterward that there was soil beneath this water. Perhaps it was contaminated too? Or perhaps it was still good! "Shit! Maybe that's ide-"

His little discovery was immediately cut off by the terrified whinny of his horse, who raised onto its hind legs when a very large dog had attacked. Easily larger than a full grown arctic wolf the creature circled around the brown mare when Arata tried charging it from behind. He had withdrawn his battle axe ready to plunge it right into thing's belly when the snapping jowls of a second dog came flying at him and pounced him from the left side. On his back and trying not to panic from the knives of its teeth tearing into his obliques and lower love handles, Arata  rocketed punch after punch into the thing's huge head but it was like jabbing against a cinderblock with fur tightly wrapped over it. His head was starting to spin and his ears were ringing with loud bells that signified his senses were slowly lulling from his grasp. The heartwrenching screech of his horse succumbing to the other dog had been able to wake him from his panic, but doubly much to his dismay he could now faintly see the other dog approaching for him undoubtedly. His axe hand was free but having never really been in a truly life threatening situation, his instincts and reflexes were going out of whack and all sense was leaving him. He could feel his lower backside becoming hot and wet from his bladder freely emptying itself and having sensed this level of fear, the second wolf gnashed its teeth and came ready to bury them into the side of his neck. In those short moments, he could feel the sudden gust of a drafty wind waft over him and the dogs and if he hadn't known better, his vision was suddently filled with a smiling face.

Several times he would blink in his spastic attempts to crawl away and save himself, but each time, he'd see that ugly smirking mug. But then something seemed to come over him. Almost like an out of body experienced Arata watched himself lift his arm and drop the blade of the axe into the back of the dog's neck and then immediatelly swing backward to cleave at the other dog. From there, the rest had become a blur and he blacked out soon after.

When Arata opened his eyes once again, he found himself leaning against that tree to which he'd tethered his dead horse. However long he was out, it must have been at least a day because the sweet stench of rotting flesh was the first thing to assault his senses. The entirety of the mare's stomach had bit and torn open, and the poor, beautiful creature was slowly decaying in a pool of its blood, urine and feces. Arata had to look away, he'd had that horse since it was a foal and his body ached sharply. He looked down at himself to see just in how bad of a shape he was....but he wasn't prepared for what he saw.

To be continued....