Little Boy Belmont (Richter x Olrox)

Chapter Twenty-One: El Demonio De La Noche

(I hope my drawing shows up when I upload this chapter. I've been having a blast designing what Richter looks like as an avatar for Tēzcatlipōca.)
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He wakes up to the spicy/sweet smell of cacao powder and roasting peppers. The scent nearly makes him sneeze but he breathes it in with a sense of nostalgia. He's laying down on the forest floor, hearing people laughing and singing somewhere close by.

He squints up at the sunlight peeking through the trees in confusion. Shouldn't he be in France...?
Blinking, he sits up, looking down at his hands and feet. His skin is completely ink black, his fingers are clawed, the claws curved slightly inwards. He's bewildered to find his fingernails are gone, the ends of his fingers naturally razor sharp.

His right foot is replaced with an obsidian mirror, the bone of his leg somewhat exposed, but it doesn't hurt. It hasn't hurt for years now. Where is he?
"Tēzcatlipōca! Tez!" He jolts a little when someone calls his name. He looks up to see Huitzilopochtli walk through the vegetation. The younger Aztec God has blue skin, his face having the same stripe pattern, but his are blue instead of black.

His youngest brother smiles when he sees him.
"Were you sleeping on the ground again?" The Aztec God of War teases, arms crossed over his chest.
"Sorry," Richter/Tēzcatlipōca rasps, touching his temple as smoke vents from his nose.
"Are you all right?" His youngest sibling asks, head tilted to the side, a worried look in his pale eyes. The hummingbird headdress rattles a little when he tilts his head, the long green and white feathers swaying in the breeze.

"It just felt like I woke up from a really long dream," he murmurs, the golden and turquoise bracelets on his wrists jingling as he moves.
"You've only been asleep for a few hours," Huitzilopochtli murmurs, holding a yellow hand out to help the elder brother up from the ground. "We should probably get you something to eat. Come on, Quetzalcoatl saved you a heart from the last sacrifice."

Richter/Tēzcatlipōca stands with the help of his brother and stumbles a little. He growls in frustration, sounding like a jaguar when he's mad. Huitzilopochtli laughs softly, letting the Aztec God of Darkness lean against him for support.
"You're definitely hungry. You are the only one of us that gets moody when hungry," he jokes.
Richter/Tēzcatlipōca scoffs, smoke blowing from his mouth in a huff.

They exit the forest and go into the city. The Aztec God of War helps him each step of the way. The Great Pyramid of Tenochtitlan looms over the trees, the stairs leading down still soaked with blood. The scent of blood makes Richter, the human part of him at least, want to gag. But another part of him, something more primal, almost licks his lips at the scent.

"Olrox?" He whispers, blinking in alarm when he sees him walking down the bloody steps like he's done this a thousand times before. Except Olrox isn't wearing his usual purple overcoat. No, he's shirtless, his darker skin covered in green scales along his chest, shoulders, and eyes. His hair is still dark and long, a few red and purple feathers woven into the braids.

He wears a bright skirt, the pattern elaborate looking. Olrox, no, Olrox/Quetzalcoatl smiles when he sees his brothers. He carries a human heart in his hands, the organ still dripping blood.
"Let me guess, Tēzcatlipōca fell asleep in the forest again?" Olrox/Quetzalcoatl muses, his voice sounding more feminine than Richter/Tēzcatlipōca remembers.

Huitzilopochtli nods and laughs, letting the Aztec God of Darkness go.
"Here," Olrox/Quetzalcoatl hands him the dripping heart. "You must be starving," he almost teases.
Richter/Tēzcatlipōca snorts smoke out like a pissed off bull and snatches the heart out of his younger brother's hand.

He bites into the heart with his sharpened jaguar teeth. Blood gushes in his mouth like he bit into an overripe tomato, some of it staining his lips and chin. The human side of himself expects the familiar salty, metallic taste of blood. But no, this tastes richer, sweeter. The muscle of the heart is somewhat stringy, but he doesn't mind. He devours it in three bites and licks his fingers clean.