16-12-2003, 21:52
(OOC Alright, first off, this is not an rp which you can interact with. This will not effect you people in nationstates, and might be set in another world. I do not know. But this is something which I have been writing at a freinds request, he gave me some ideas which he wanted and I wrote them down in this. I am not promising anything, this might be the one and only post, but I certainly hope not! I am trying my hardest on this, so any imput would be greatly appreciated, just try and make your critistism constuctive, and I will change it if I feel it would be positive. Thanks to Tom Jolly for these great ideas he gave me to write, it has been a real pleasure. My name is David Giffard by the way. :) Hope you enjoy it! )
Instinct of the Fledgling
The forest gave a gentle hum of an ancient lullaby to the beings within it, a gentle calming melody which was accompanied by the soft fluctuating voices of the stream as it continued on it’s journey of quenching the thirst of the land. The rustle of leaves added it’s own instruments to the song, the tune echoed pleasantly in the air, the wind conducting the choir of leaves upon the proud parent tree. A few children took flight, departing from their brothers and sisters, and were lazily carried by the breeze’s loving cradle. All of nature’s beings where at peace and harmony, contented with the world, listening to the orchestra which was playing it's evening hymn. Apart from one being....
A single troubled spirit heard of all these noises perfectly, yet heard none of the delicate voices, the lullaby to which was sung. These noises where heard with more clarity than anyone else, but they did not stir him, Mother Nature could not comfort this child anymore, there was no relationship between parent and child, the child had become alien. The world seemed a gray painting to him, one dimensional and crudely painted, the brush marks revealing constant suspicion and prejudice against him. He left his brown eyes to stare at the passage of time upon the dirt track, his feet adding no mark, no sound, as it always was when he first noticed a change. It was natural for him to leave no mark, if the word "natural" could be used to describe any part of this being. It required no effort, just like a man knows how to balance himself, and how to walk. The spirit stood out like a beacon of shadow, the man caused irrational fear amongst the animals of the forest, from the smallest fly to the largest predator. Nature shunning him, as did mankind much to the bitterness of Xahn.
Xahn continued along, the dark dressed figure remained lost within the elaborate maze of his prison, one without physical bars or walls, but something far worse. The mental prison of doubt, confusion and depression kept Xahn held tight, intangible chains which kept him a slave to his own unanswered questions. And these questions where like wounds, left to fester and grow infected over time, creating more damage.
The world seemed not to affect him, his brown eyes seemed to be glazed over and not focusing on anything at all, it all seemed the same thing repeated again. Treachery, deceit, hatred, violence, death. The sun only gave him a few rays of its brilliance, long shadows being cast across the grass, like a overhanging cloak which followed him. Xahn found sunlight so annoying, it made his mind edgy and made him irrational and frustrated easily, not that even the sunlight could penetrate this apathy within him.
Continuing along, the figure solemnly walked to no destination, apart from to get away from where he was, yet he was not rushed. Too many people where hurt from where he had been. He could not bear to see those who he had been childhood friends with harmed by this…transgression of his. He could barely understand it himself, others found it frightening. And what people fear, they become violent to. And violence it seemed, flowed within Xahn's veins, feeding those thoughts which he knew was wrong, and had to control. But now....now could he control them? To make himself not fall prey to the monster within him, to flal prey to his own dark instincts...
This figure seemed normal enough on first glance. Looked just like any other human. How false first appearances where. When you where near him there was a sense of…something else that few people get to experience, and that experience is a fearful one at the best of times. Likened to the moment where you where to lie there, knowing that your life may be snuffed out, and face the frightening truth that you are mortal death wrapping it's suffocating grip around you as you face the truth of the values of life.
There was a sense of there was something hidden within the being, that Xahn knew something you did not, a monumental secret which you will never know about, never feel or be able to touch, yet that secret which was the key to everything. Nothing was said to imply it, but it was simply the aura of it around him. Some of the most profound things can not be explained in words truly, one must experience it to relate. He had intelligent within those analytical eyes which seemed to have a ocean of hidden emotion behind them, something of solitude and torment which no other being could understand, no other person could be told yet it was there, it was felt yet never said.
The silent steps continued along their aimless journey, Xahn oblivious to the three figures who where walking towards him. They where another shade of gray, which did not matter anymore. He did not grant them a single thought or concern, not even a look. He had far greater, troubling things to think about. About what had happened. About what to do now that he had no home, no one to turn to ask what was going on. The three figures Xahn could hear even from the distance they where from, he head their ushered whispers of their plan.
“Ah…this is what we want. This should be nice and easy. Same as usual fellas, quick and swift.” the center one whispered the others with a sly tongue. They both nodded in agreement to the dark deed, and made their movements like they had done before. The three where adults, around thirty, badly groomed and had a guttural accent, one which was slightly slurred, they where brigands of the paths, ones which preyed upon the defenseless. They had picked the wrong target, fate it seemed, had a sense of sick humor that of all of the people these three bandits they could face, they chose him.
Xahn continued along as he had done before, without a care for the events around him. A war could be going on around him and he could not have cared for it, the bullets would have flown around him and he would continue to walk within the chaos, as though nothing threatened him. There was none of the usual feelings from him. No fear, no care, no nothing. He simply continued along, staring at the floor, as his soon to be attackers readied themselves.
The three stood there, watching this person who looked around 20 walk up slowly as if they where not there, with their quick deft eyes. They knew what they had to do, they had done it so many times now that it seemed like nothing, to think that dealing death would come without remorse was a testament to the depravity of some humans.
“You there!” the center said so that Xahn could hear. The man reached for his scabbard and slowly and deliberately let his scimitar come out, showing their target that they meant business, trying to intimidate Xahn. The other two drew their own weapons, one with two knifes, the other a bow and arrow, which he was carefully drawing, his toothless smile beaming in malice. Such intimidation tactics where wasted upon him, he simply did not care.
“If you know what was best for ya, you better give us all of ya money, else we might have to get…nasty.” the leader said with slightly less confidence, seeing this arrogant man walk slowly towards them as though they where not there! No sound came from Xahn; no sound came from the forest apart from a nervous chatter of leaves. The men looked on, rather astonished at this figure. They felt a little uneasy now, having twinges of doubt coming to mind, that something was not right.
“Well you sure are stupid. Get him.” the leader said, trying to remain intimidating. He brought his weapon at his side, ready to give a quick and final stab into him, which had proved so effective against the cowering merchants and women they had targeted before. The one with knifes came up to support him on his right side, the two knifes in his giving off a dull glint. Yet he held them slightly nervously, knowing from within his soul that something was wrong. The archer only had a moment of hesitation, and lead on by his leader's example poised the arrow. He aimed, not listening to the voice that might have saved him….and released in the confidence that it would hit, there was no other way it could be.
The arrow flew through the air as it whistled. Everything seemed to go into a slow motion for Xahn, as he raised his head, chilling all three of them as he stared at each in turn. He lifted his head and looked at the fast fading grin of the first man as he was in mid step, his scimitar poised to stab towards his mid section to finish the fight quickly. His eyes darted to the arrow in mid-flight; he saw the feathers at the end of it being ruffled by the air as it past, the rings of the wood, the metal tip as it headed towards him. Xahn sighed slowly, and simply took a step gracefully and without any thought or hesitation to the right, avoiding the arrow.
The arrow rocked past, one minute he was there….the next he was somewhere else! The archer looked astonished to see his arrow harmlessly rocket towards thin air where his target had been. And still that figure had that passive, uncaring face which was so chilling to them all; this person had not even made any kind of effort to do that! He readied another arrow…seeing his ally with the scimitar coming in to give him the swift edge of cold steel gave him a little hope.
Xahn reacted to the scimitar. He reached for his own blade, the katana. He reached for it, and drew it with infinite slowness, which completely unnerved his assailant as though his incoming jab would not come. The silver steel of the metal gave a gentle ring as it was drawn, it’s surface like a rushing river as it began to flow from the scabbard dam. Released, Xahn held it by his side, the shining silver reflecting the sunlight. The scimitar had almost touched Xahn....seconds seemed like minutes. And then everything went into a chaotic overdrive of time, everything occurred as though seconds where milliseconds, the lighting speed of the events made Xahn look like a flash of lighting as the katana danced. Xahn looked at his assailant for one last time, those cold uncaring eyes flaring up crimson. Such a sight was terrifying; such fury was defying any rational thought of mercy. It was the contrast of the uncaring, passive figure and this enraged battle engine of destruction which tore through it's enemies as though it was at play.
With speed not possible to mankind, Xahn sidestepped the clumsy thrust and dragged the katana in a vicious arc to the assailants belly, the flesh being torn so easily. Blood began to pour from the wound; the man’s face became contorted in a gristly mask of pain, as he in his charging movement began to fall in the shock, reaching for the wound which threatened to allow his innards to spew out. Not a second had pasted, not a cry came from him, his vocal chords had not had time to utter a sound.
The following strike was done effortlessly, as though it was natural, like the instinct of the hunter. With the bloody katana, Xahn without looking brought the katana at his falling victim in a swift numerous arcs which raged through the man’s back, shredding him. All of this happened within the second, and the other two began to have second thoughts at this unbelievable feat of violence. The archer had drawn another arrow and aimed again, his body beginning to sweat. The rules had changed, this was a different fight, this was no longer a fight for money…this was a fight for survival.
Xahn snapped his head and looked to his next target, with those blood red eyes giving its death sentence. The man behind Xahn fell to the floor, currently ebbing away into the next life from the numerous deadly slashes across his pain wracked body. The knife holding man was hesitating, he was about to bring his two knifes into him, one from above, one jabbing forward. They came down with a war cry of someone trying to avenge his best friend. Grabbing onto the upward hand and the wrist, Xahn held the older man’s hand. His katana as though it was always there parried the other knife which threatened his own belly. The dagger sent shockwaves up the man's arm, numbing it from the force in which it was blocked. The man’s face soon changed from one to anger to one of fear and then agony. Xahn clamped down onto the man’s wrist, causing immense pain to him. He bellowed out, and tried to release himself, but it was no good, he was trapped, and the thing which was so terrifying is that the man knew he could not escape.
Another arrow had been launched at Xahn, another desperate attempt to stop the inevitable. With the same degree of untaught ability, Xahn brought his instinct into play again. He snapped the knife holding assailant into a new place, forcing him to move with his raw strength, and used his body as a shield to take the blow of the arrow. He felt the thud of the shaft going into his ribcage and into his heart, which he heard explode. A gentle urge of shock from him, a choke of blood as it came from his dry lips, those eyes which held despair and raw fear looking at the archer in accusation, and then the man was dead, as he slumped down helplessly with a gentle thump.
A look of sick horror was upon the archer’s face as he realized what he had just done, this was all like a terrible nightmare which was true, he looked on in disbelief of all of it.... Xahn sprinted forward, the sunlight dancing upon the blade as it did it’s deadly thrust.
The archer embraced the sword without resistance, death followed swiftly. The cold katana remained lodged in his body for long silent seconds, as dead swept over the archer; his last image was the calm and uncompassionate face of Xahn as he stared morbidly at his target. With a swift movement, the katana ripped sideways, shearing the man almost in two with an agonized scream from the archer as his hands opened up, releasing the bow. The grass becoming painted with the flowing paints of crimson blood.
Blood.
Xahn turned slowly as he watched the blood from upon his blade trickle down the perfect shimmering blade, and dropped down unto the grass with a light splash noise, only audible to Xahn. He stared at the life essence as it flowed from those bodies.... So warm, so alluring. Slowly, he followed his instincts which seemed to be so right….he walked over to the dead archer which poured his now useless life-blood unto the land like a dark and unholy fountain. Cleaning his own katana with a skilled and practiced technique which removed all blood from a blade, he sheaved it slowly, a dull ring filling his ears. He stared for long seconds, hearing the blood flow along the grass.
Reached for the body which was face down upon the grass, Xahn slowly grabbed onto him, hesitantly and relying only his instincts. What was happening? Why…why am I feeling this? He continued to allow his emotions to reveal what he had to do….
He turned the body swiftly so it faced him, the grotesque mask of death staring blankly into the sky, Xahn found it chilling to feel that he felt nothing, a kind of hollow emotion was replaced by the initial horror he felt when he had this urge. He should feel repulsed. But something drove him on. He saw the blood…..he smelt it, the one meal which would feed his hunger which he had felt for so long...
He brought his face closer to that delicate neck, getting slowly paler. He closed his eyes and let his mouth open slightly, to reveal fangs. He did not know what he was doing, but somehow he knew this was what he had to do, as if this was what meant to happen by nature. It enwrapped him, all those denials and previous urges being washed away.
He was about to feed. Those fangs about to penetrate that tender soft skin. The smell was overpowering now, the smell of fresh food, the smell of life. Those fangs tenderly penetrated into the veins, the feast about to pour forward, letting him feel what he so wanted to feel...….
“By the Gods….what happened here?” A male voice resounded from behind him.
Instinct of the Fledgling
The forest gave a gentle hum of an ancient lullaby to the beings within it, a gentle calming melody which was accompanied by the soft fluctuating voices of the stream as it continued on it’s journey of quenching the thirst of the land. The rustle of leaves added it’s own instruments to the song, the tune echoed pleasantly in the air, the wind conducting the choir of leaves upon the proud parent tree. A few children took flight, departing from their brothers and sisters, and were lazily carried by the breeze’s loving cradle. All of nature’s beings where at peace and harmony, contented with the world, listening to the orchestra which was playing it's evening hymn. Apart from one being....
A single troubled spirit heard of all these noises perfectly, yet heard none of the delicate voices, the lullaby to which was sung. These noises where heard with more clarity than anyone else, but they did not stir him, Mother Nature could not comfort this child anymore, there was no relationship between parent and child, the child had become alien. The world seemed a gray painting to him, one dimensional and crudely painted, the brush marks revealing constant suspicion and prejudice against him. He left his brown eyes to stare at the passage of time upon the dirt track, his feet adding no mark, no sound, as it always was when he first noticed a change. It was natural for him to leave no mark, if the word "natural" could be used to describe any part of this being. It required no effort, just like a man knows how to balance himself, and how to walk. The spirit stood out like a beacon of shadow, the man caused irrational fear amongst the animals of the forest, from the smallest fly to the largest predator. Nature shunning him, as did mankind much to the bitterness of Xahn.
Xahn continued along, the dark dressed figure remained lost within the elaborate maze of his prison, one without physical bars or walls, but something far worse. The mental prison of doubt, confusion and depression kept Xahn held tight, intangible chains which kept him a slave to his own unanswered questions. And these questions where like wounds, left to fester and grow infected over time, creating more damage.
The world seemed not to affect him, his brown eyes seemed to be glazed over and not focusing on anything at all, it all seemed the same thing repeated again. Treachery, deceit, hatred, violence, death. The sun only gave him a few rays of its brilliance, long shadows being cast across the grass, like a overhanging cloak which followed him. Xahn found sunlight so annoying, it made his mind edgy and made him irrational and frustrated easily, not that even the sunlight could penetrate this apathy within him.
Continuing along, the figure solemnly walked to no destination, apart from to get away from where he was, yet he was not rushed. Too many people where hurt from where he had been. He could not bear to see those who he had been childhood friends with harmed by this…transgression of his. He could barely understand it himself, others found it frightening. And what people fear, they become violent to. And violence it seemed, flowed within Xahn's veins, feeding those thoughts which he knew was wrong, and had to control. But now....now could he control them? To make himself not fall prey to the monster within him, to flal prey to his own dark instincts...
This figure seemed normal enough on first glance. Looked just like any other human. How false first appearances where. When you where near him there was a sense of…something else that few people get to experience, and that experience is a fearful one at the best of times. Likened to the moment where you where to lie there, knowing that your life may be snuffed out, and face the frightening truth that you are mortal death wrapping it's suffocating grip around you as you face the truth of the values of life.
There was a sense of there was something hidden within the being, that Xahn knew something you did not, a monumental secret which you will never know about, never feel or be able to touch, yet that secret which was the key to everything. Nothing was said to imply it, but it was simply the aura of it around him. Some of the most profound things can not be explained in words truly, one must experience it to relate. He had intelligent within those analytical eyes which seemed to have a ocean of hidden emotion behind them, something of solitude and torment which no other being could understand, no other person could be told yet it was there, it was felt yet never said.
The silent steps continued along their aimless journey, Xahn oblivious to the three figures who where walking towards him. They where another shade of gray, which did not matter anymore. He did not grant them a single thought or concern, not even a look. He had far greater, troubling things to think about. About what had happened. About what to do now that he had no home, no one to turn to ask what was going on. The three figures Xahn could hear even from the distance they where from, he head their ushered whispers of their plan.
“Ah…this is what we want. This should be nice and easy. Same as usual fellas, quick and swift.” the center one whispered the others with a sly tongue. They both nodded in agreement to the dark deed, and made their movements like they had done before. The three where adults, around thirty, badly groomed and had a guttural accent, one which was slightly slurred, they where brigands of the paths, ones which preyed upon the defenseless. They had picked the wrong target, fate it seemed, had a sense of sick humor that of all of the people these three bandits they could face, they chose him.
Xahn continued along as he had done before, without a care for the events around him. A war could be going on around him and he could not have cared for it, the bullets would have flown around him and he would continue to walk within the chaos, as though nothing threatened him. There was none of the usual feelings from him. No fear, no care, no nothing. He simply continued along, staring at the floor, as his soon to be attackers readied themselves.
The three stood there, watching this person who looked around 20 walk up slowly as if they where not there, with their quick deft eyes. They knew what they had to do, they had done it so many times now that it seemed like nothing, to think that dealing death would come without remorse was a testament to the depravity of some humans.
“You there!” the center said so that Xahn could hear. The man reached for his scabbard and slowly and deliberately let his scimitar come out, showing their target that they meant business, trying to intimidate Xahn. The other two drew their own weapons, one with two knifes, the other a bow and arrow, which he was carefully drawing, his toothless smile beaming in malice. Such intimidation tactics where wasted upon him, he simply did not care.
“If you know what was best for ya, you better give us all of ya money, else we might have to get…nasty.” the leader said with slightly less confidence, seeing this arrogant man walk slowly towards them as though they where not there! No sound came from Xahn; no sound came from the forest apart from a nervous chatter of leaves. The men looked on, rather astonished at this figure. They felt a little uneasy now, having twinges of doubt coming to mind, that something was not right.
“Well you sure are stupid. Get him.” the leader said, trying to remain intimidating. He brought his weapon at his side, ready to give a quick and final stab into him, which had proved so effective against the cowering merchants and women they had targeted before. The one with knifes came up to support him on his right side, the two knifes in his giving off a dull glint. Yet he held them slightly nervously, knowing from within his soul that something was wrong. The archer only had a moment of hesitation, and lead on by his leader's example poised the arrow. He aimed, not listening to the voice that might have saved him….and released in the confidence that it would hit, there was no other way it could be.
The arrow flew through the air as it whistled. Everything seemed to go into a slow motion for Xahn, as he raised his head, chilling all three of them as he stared at each in turn. He lifted his head and looked at the fast fading grin of the first man as he was in mid step, his scimitar poised to stab towards his mid section to finish the fight quickly. His eyes darted to the arrow in mid-flight; he saw the feathers at the end of it being ruffled by the air as it past, the rings of the wood, the metal tip as it headed towards him. Xahn sighed slowly, and simply took a step gracefully and without any thought or hesitation to the right, avoiding the arrow.
The arrow rocked past, one minute he was there….the next he was somewhere else! The archer looked astonished to see his arrow harmlessly rocket towards thin air where his target had been. And still that figure had that passive, uncaring face which was so chilling to them all; this person had not even made any kind of effort to do that! He readied another arrow…seeing his ally with the scimitar coming in to give him the swift edge of cold steel gave him a little hope.
Xahn reacted to the scimitar. He reached for his own blade, the katana. He reached for it, and drew it with infinite slowness, which completely unnerved his assailant as though his incoming jab would not come. The silver steel of the metal gave a gentle ring as it was drawn, it’s surface like a rushing river as it began to flow from the scabbard dam. Released, Xahn held it by his side, the shining silver reflecting the sunlight. The scimitar had almost touched Xahn....seconds seemed like minutes. And then everything went into a chaotic overdrive of time, everything occurred as though seconds where milliseconds, the lighting speed of the events made Xahn look like a flash of lighting as the katana danced. Xahn looked at his assailant for one last time, those cold uncaring eyes flaring up crimson. Such a sight was terrifying; such fury was defying any rational thought of mercy. It was the contrast of the uncaring, passive figure and this enraged battle engine of destruction which tore through it's enemies as though it was at play.
With speed not possible to mankind, Xahn sidestepped the clumsy thrust and dragged the katana in a vicious arc to the assailants belly, the flesh being torn so easily. Blood began to pour from the wound; the man’s face became contorted in a gristly mask of pain, as he in his charging movement began to fall in the shock, reaching for the wound which threatened to allow his innards to spew out. Not a second had pasted, not a cry came from him, his vocal chords had not had time to utter a sound.
The following strike was done effortlessly, as though it was natural, like the instinct of the hunter. With the bloody katana, Xahn without looking brought the katana at his falling victim in a swift numerous arcs which raged through the man’s back, shredding him. All of this happened within the second, and the other two began to have second thoughts at this unbelievable feat of violence. The archer had drawn another arrow and aimed again, his body beginning to sweat. The rules had changed, this was a different fight, this was no longer a fight for money…this was a fight for survival.
Xahn snapped his head and looked to his next target, with those blood red eyes giving its death sentence. The man behind Xahn fell to the floor, currently ebbing away into the next life from the numerous deadly slashes across his pain wracked body. The knife holding man was hesitating, he was about to bring his two knifes into him, one from above, one jabbing forward. They came down with a war cry of someone trying to avenge his best friend. Grabbing onto the upward hand and the wrist, Xahn held the older man’s hand. His katana as though it was always there parried the other knife which threatened his own belly. The dagger sent shockwaves up the man's arm, numbing it from the force in which it was blocked. The man’s face soon changed from one to anger to one of fear and then agony. Xahn clamped down onto the man’s wrist, causing immense pain to him. He bellowed out, and tried to release himself, but it was no good, he was trapped, and the thing which was so terrifying is that the man knew he could not escape.
Another arrow had been launched at Xahn, another desperate attempt to stop the inevitable. With the same degree of untaught ability, Xahn brought his instinct into play again. He snapped the knife holding assailant into a new place, forcing him to move with his raw strength, and used his body as a shield to take the blow of the arrow. He felt the thud of the shaft going into his ribcage and into his heart, which he heard explode. A gentle urge of shock from him, a choke of blood as it came from his dry lips, those eyes which held despair and raw fear looking at the archer in accusation, and then the man was dead, as he slumped down helplessly with a gentle thump.
A look of sick horror was upon the archer’s face as he realized what he had just done, this was all like a terrible nightmare which was true, he looked on in disbelief of all of it.... Xahn sprinted forward, the sunlight dancing upon the blade as it did it’s deadly thrust.
The archer embraced the sword without resistance, death followed swiftly. The cold katana remained lodged in his body for long silent seconds, as dead swept over the archer; his last image was the calm and uncompassionate face of Xahn as he stared morbidly at his target. With a swift movement, the katana ripped sideways, shearing the man almost in two with an agonized scream from the archer as his hands opened up, releasing the bow. The grass becoming painted with the flowing paints of crimson blood.
Blood.
Xahn turned slowly as he watched the blood from upon his blade trickle down the perfect shimmering blade, and dropped down unto the grass with a light splash noise, only audible to Xahn. He stared at the life essence as it flowed from those bodies.... So warm, so alluring. Slowly, he followed his instincts which seemed to be so right….he walked over to the dead archer which poured his now useless life-blood unto the land like a dark and unholy fountain. Cleaning his own katana with a skilled and practiced technique which removed all blood from a blade, he sheaved it slowly, a dull ring filling his ears. He stared for long seconds, hearing the blood flow along the grass.
Reached for the body which was face down upon the grass, Xahn slowly grabbed onto him, hesitantly and relying only his instincts. What was happening? Why…why am I feeling this? He continued to allow his emotions to reveal what he had to do….
He turned the body swiftly so it faced him, the grotesque mask of death staring blankly into the sky, Xahn found it chilling to feel that he felt nothing, a kind of hollow emotion was replaced by the initial horror he felt when he had this urge. He should feel repulsed. But something drove him on. He saw the blood…..he smelt it, the one meal which would feed his hunger which he had felt for so long...
He brought his face closer to that delicate neck, getting slowly paler. He closed his eyes and let his mouth open slightly, to reveal fangs. He did not know what he was doing, but somehow he knew this was what he had to do, as if this was what meant to happen by nature. It enwrapped him, all those denials and previous urges being washed away.
He was about to feed. Those fangs about to penetrate that tender soft skin. The smell was overpowering now, the smell of fresh food, the smell of life. Those fangs tenderly penetrated into the veins, the feast about to pour forward, letting him feel what he so wanted to feel...….
“By the Gods….what happened here?” A male voice resounded from behind him.