Every one of his clan members managed to find and have their happily ever after. Everyone but Oliver that is. Oliver is an Oni Warrior. His Kitsune master died many years ago and left him and his Oni clansmen free to pursue their own happiness. He watched as one by one his clansmen found their promised mate, each of them rewarded for their years of service with years of living happily ever after. Oliver however never seemed to connect with his. Finally after being alone for so long he was driven to depression and the inability to socialise with his clansmen any longer. He moved from home to a place he believed no one would ever come looking for him.
As an Oni warrior he is technically immortal though not invincible. He can lose his body but his spirit is incapable of dying. Nothing is more indestructible than an Oni Warrior. There are relatively few ways to destroy an Oni Warrior’s body. You can of course cut off their head, remove their heart or poisoning them with silver. Their only weakness is they are bodiless and can’t be seen by anyone but another Oni, their master or their promised mate from sunrise to sunset.
Oliver came to Tennant Creek with one goal in mind, to find a way to put his mind to rest for a long time. He chose the house in the middle of nowhere with the intention of sitting in a chair and not moving for many years to come. He had a theory based on one of his clansman’s experience many years ago. The theory was, that if he failed to eat or drink eventually he would become lethargic and fall into a comatose state.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting in the chair when he started to hear scratching at the back door. It sounded like a wild animal ripping its way through the rotted old wood that hung poorly over the back entrance. Then he heard long nails scrape over the old ceramic tiles that coated the shabby little kitchen area. Then he caught a whiff of her banksia flowers. Then, he felt his soul begin to tingle and spark to life within him as he found himself shouting out loud.
Mine! The word echoed over and over again in his head. She was his promised mate. The one person in the world that could love him completely and without reservations. He could smell her amazingly wonderful scent waif up to his nose. Her scent was something he wouldn’t have been able to explain to another since it was more about how it made him feel than the blend of smells that came off her. It made him feel wonderful and reminded him of moonlight and summer.
Her breathing was rapid and laboured. He could smell dirt and sweat under her delicious natural scent. He could tell his promised mate was beyond tired and exhausted. She appeared to have been running for her life and had reached the end of her rope. She was his promised mate and he needed to do something to protect her. She didn’t come running in here by accident. Something was out there that was trying to harm her.
Oliver tried to move but he realised he must have been sitting in the chair longer than he realised because his muscles had atrophied. While he would be able to move at little he had little strength and was going to need time in order to regenerate his flesh and muscles. He looked down at his promised mate who had passed out at his feet. He smelled her fear and a small amount of blood before he saw her pass out.
Even in her poor condition, he knew, her fear was a combination of seeing him in what he could only imagine was a disgustingly smelly and unpleasant sight and the fact that something was chasing her in an attempt to harm or capture her. Oliver stopped his attempts at moving so he could not only gather his thoughts but also so he could listen carefully to determine if he could hear if they were still pursuing her.
In seconds, he heard grunting and crunching noises coming from just outside of the kitchen. He could also smell body odour that could only be coming from humans. Then he heard the door creak and knew five or six humans were getting ready to enter the house. Oliver used what little strength he had to move from the chair and pull his promised mate behind the sofa. Once he knew she was out of sight he drug his body across the floor to the back entrance of the room. He figured, no matter how many humans entered through that doorway they would hopefully trip over him on their way in. Giving him and his sword the advantage. With that thought, he materialised his armour complete with his warrior mask and his Ninjatō sword.
As he hoped the two humans entered through the doorway. The first human fell on top of him and enabled Oliver to slice through the fleshy part of his neck and end his life instantly. Then, he descended upon the second human and with no more than a flick of his wrist, he also quickly and efficiently ended his life. Two more humans burst through the front entrance and two humans came through the window, one on the left and one on the right.
If his promised mate had still been passed out in the centre of the room they would have had her surrounded. Oliver couldn’t help but think how lucky it was that of all the places she could have run, it was his home that his promised mate stumbled into and passed out. The humans never had a chance. It took only a few milliseconds for his skin and muscles to begin regenerating. He could feel his power and strength building even faster than he could blink.
As a freed Oni Warrior, he was slightly different than a typical indentured Oni Warrior. For one, he ate normal everyday cooked food, and didn’t require blood from a master any longer. He was also more much more difficult to kill. Well actually he’s not even sure he can be killed. Through trial and error, he found he could survive even the worst of injuries that would kill a normal indentured Oni Warrior. There are only four ways to truly kill an Oni Warrior. The first and most commonly known method is to completely sever their heads from their shoulders. This is a task easier said than done since there is no creature alive that is stronger than an Oni Warrior. Well that’s not exactly true anymore if rumours are to be taken as truth. Anyhow…It didn’t matter to Oliver. Most of the Oni rules, free or indentured for some reason didn’t apply to him.
In fact, he had his head severed clear off his shoulders several hundred years ago. He had been stunned, but when his headless body reached out and simply placed his head back onto his torso and the wounds knit back together as if nothing happened he knew. He knew for some reason the rules changed when it came to him.
The second way to kill an Oni Warrior is by lodging silver in an Oni’s heart or removing its heart from its chest and completely destroying it. Again, during a fight many years ago a wendigo ripped out his heart and eat it. He should have immediately died, but was amazed when nothing happened. In fact other than shouting out in pain you would have thought he missed the majority of his heart. Once he killed the Wendigo a clansmen confirmed the truth for him. Oliver was literally heartless for several years while it regrew in his chest.
The third method to kill an Oni Warrior is prolonged exposure to the sun. By leaving an Oni Warrior out in the sun over the course of days their blood can become rancid and cause death. This however is no easy task since almost no one can see an Oni during the day hours. Still, Oliver is also immune to the daylight rules. Not only can he be seen, he can also tolerate the light without any negative effects. The final way, and most deadly way to kill an Oni Warrior is the consumption of Banshee blood. This is the Oni’s best kept secret. Oliver has no idea what effect Banshee blood would have on him but he’s pretty sure it’s unlikely anyone will ever try to get him to consume it.
With the initial hunters take out but plenty more on the way, Oliver knew he needed to move quickly to ensure that his promised mate was protected. He didn’t have any more time to assess the situation or determine what kind of threat they were to his promised mate so he used the little bit of time he had to quickly dispatch all of the humans. He killed them all cleanly and without any needless pain. Then, just because he didn’t want to meet his promised mate for the first time amid dead human bodies so he took their dead bodies outdoor for disposal.
He was only gone a few moments before he could feel his body going into spasms. He needed to feed. Too many years of starvation and neglect where taking their toll on his body. Oliver was desperate however to check on his promised mate and give her a little of his blood so she could heal before he became incapacitated. Despite the cramps and tremors he returned to his promised mate and checked all her vital signs. Then he looked down at the little white wolf that he knew she was his. Mine, the word echoed again in his mind. She was pure white wolf without a speckle of any other colour to mar her perfection.
She was small in stature but had powerful muscles beneath her matted and dirty fur. He could tell she was tired, hungry and just plain emotionally wiped out but otherwise she had no severe injuries or damages. Nothing a little time, comfort and food couldn’t fix. He used his Ninjatō to slice his own wrist and allowed a few drops of his blood to coat her mouth. He made sure to watch as she swallowed. With his blood in her system, knew that she would soon be in a deep peaceful sleep.
Oliver carried her up the stairs to the master bed room and placed her on the old musty smelling mattress. It was hardly an acceptable bed for his promised mate, but it was all he had for the moment. He would need to feed properly, then he could find better accommodations for his promised mate. Oliver rubbed his hand gently down her soft pelt then closed his eyes and took a few moments to enjoy the feeling that being near his promised mate sparked inside of him.
He was sitting next to her on the bed, gently running his fingertips through her fur when he started to feel dizzy. Then he was assaulted by another round of tremors and stomach cramps. His empty stomach was sick and his body wanted dreadfully to shut down. He couldn’t afford to become that weak again he was going to have to fight his own body long enough to get some real food. He hopped up from the bed with one intention. To find some food that he could keep down and get back to his promised mate as soon as possible.