Post by rokosh on Jun 22, 2006 21:19:01 GMT -5
Yeah figured I'd throw my hat in the ring as well, not quite as good as the others but, meh it's something ^^
Thunder Crashes, lighting strikes, cold wind blows as the waves crash steadily upon the rocky crags of a distant shore, the rapid clang of steel against steel intermixed with with the wails of the dieing and the screams of the soon to be dead. blurred images of horrors unseen in the dark. the warm orange-red glow of fire lights the air, smoke chokes the sky while the Forrest soil drinks in the blood of innocence like a greedy child.
Awake... The pain.... awake but still dark... Hard to breathe... Not breathing? No, breathing but just barely... Can't see, Blind? No, not blind... Eyes gone... Not blind, just dark... Eyes gone, can see... Can't move... Bound? Not bound, in a box... In a box!?...
Crying... twisting... pushing... tearing... ripping... wrenching.. digging... digging!
The peaceful night is destroyed by hollow anguished cries, the timid creatures living around the old mound of earth flee in terror as the thing, naked, save for the tattered remains of it's burial shroud slowly pulls itself from the ground.
Screaming... Crying... Crying and Screaming... furry.. soft... no escape... fragile... breakable.. eating... crunchy... bloody... tastey... Must have more... No... No! Must... Must control... Who? What? Why!
It screams into the night, blood and gore dripping from it's lips and bony claws, "WHY?" it seems to say in a garbled choked voice before falling to the ground in a heap crying and asking for it's mommy in the soft voice of a lost child.
Mommy?
Who... you... I... am... you... you are me, we are it. Why... Can't remember who.... Eyes... My Eyes are gone, Yet I see. How many fing... errr claws.. funny, claws, not fingers, but claws! funny sharp deadly killing claws, who? Who am I, my head burns, squirming, worming, biting, chewing eating my brain... Can't recall, remember, who... who... who am I? Why am I?
The thing sits up, looking around it begins to examine itself, slowly rocking back and forth mumbling and giggling as it looks at it's blood soaked claws, swiping the air as if in practice, or perhaps fending of the specter of a memory
Mommy... Help mommy, monsters, monsters are coming, where is daddy?
Lips moving... not talking.... Lips moving, not talking, not my voice, who's voice? My Lips not MY voice. MY LIPS No yours to Use. You want my lips, your voice needs my lips? You can't have my lips.. MY LIPS!
It curls into a little ball, weeping softly, calling out to it's mother warning her of danger, wanting it's father. The tears stop and it hops to it's feet in one agile move, still it begs it's mother to run, to flee the nightmares, pleading for help calling for it's daddy.
Suddenly it howls in a deep almost animistic voice "MY LIPS!" and with one surprising, lightning fast motion, digs it's dagger like claws into it's own neck, ripping it's jaw off and flinging it callously into the darkness of the forest. With the remains of it's greenish black, desiccated tongue waggling to and fro, it begins to laugh. Great dark peels of sinister guffawing replace the peaceful sounds of the night as it stumbles jerkily through the forest.
The voice does not stop, still whining and crying wanting it's mommy. How! I removed it's means, the ability to pester me with it's cries, how do I, he, it, we still talk? Why!? Shut it you little snot, you were not mine!... Mine? Who am I? Where am I why am I? What's that? Another voice? Not inside... A voice out side!
Yes!
Yes!
I hear you, yes!
I am coming just tell me where. Following the soft, sweet sound, calling me... beckoning me... begging me... enticing me... It wants me... loves me... offers me the way. the way to in-act my vengeance! Funny laughable vengeance, why? what? WHO AM I ?! I told you to shut it brat, you know nothing go find your mommy. Daddy has business to take care of
It perks it's head up and moves it's ear to the wind, the ragged rotted sockets where it's eyes once were glow dimly as the muscles of it's upper jaw begin to flex as if trying to smile. It begins to move faster sometimes hopping, sometimes sprinting most times on all fours like a twisted cheetah - human hybrid. It skids to a halt in a clearing, in front of a circle of stones. On all fours it circles the odd rock monument. sometimes sniffing the ground, sometimes standing perfectly still listening to the wind as it flairs suddenly, icy tendrils born from the sea. Without warning it flops on it's back and begins to roll in the grass, all the while laughing in the echoing voice of a small child.
Mommy? Where are you mommy?
Yes!
Yes Mommy!
I Hear You Mommy!
The Circle, yes Mommy the circle, You are safe in the circle mommy? You want me to go to the circle? Ok mommy I will go there the mean man is taking me. That... That light mommy... It's so pretty. Mommy. I can see you...
The whelp is silent for a change, The voice it is telling me to do things, teaching me things. I understand now. I know what it wants. I know what I am. Wait... What is that light... Purple light coming from the stones... Surrounding me...
It burns!
The pain!
I am screaming again... It's getting black again... That damned brat is laughing again...
It begins to pace around the circle of stones, shakily at first, giggling to itself as usual, Methodically as if in a trance it begins to in-act the ancient ritual of summoning. Purple tentacles of energy surround it. It laughs with glee as it begins to scream in pain and terror. an explosive flash of dark energy explodes into the night as it's smoking husk falls to the cold forest floor.
It stirs, laughing, it sits up and looks around, purple tendrils of energy sprout from it's rotted bald head and solidify into tough fibrous strands of stiff hair. The rotted muscles of it's upper jaw flex and form a twisted mockery of a grin. It stands steady on it's clawed feet, and slowly begins to rip the shroud from it's body using it to clean the dirt and gore from itself. "My my my all clean and pretty and not a thing to wear" it's says in a hissing, giggling, raspy voice as it looks around the empty clearing. As with purpose it walks through the forest.
Quietly humming to itself it strolls into a quiet dark town. It glares menacingly at an approaching monster and makes ready to attack the creature, in an almost similar raspy voice the creature greets it and tells it not to fear, that it means it no harm. It reluctantly let's it's guard down and attempts a winning smile. "I wonder if you could tell me where I might be?" It hisses at the creature. "You are in Brill Forsaken, I am Deathguard Mitchel. You must be a newly awakened conscript of the Dark Lady. Do they not teach you anything in Deathknell any more?" he replies."Yes.. Dark Lady... Brill... Conscript" it hisses trying not to giggle and failing. "Do you find something funny?" "What is your name?" the Deathguard asks. "I have a question for you actually" it interrupts, a grin trying to form on the remains of it's face. "What is it whelp?" The Deathguard asks.
Still giggling it asks "I was wondering... Does this hurt?" without warning inky black orbs of energy form around it's hands and crash into and through the chest of the shocked Deathguard. The white orbs of the guards eyes dim as he sinks to his knees lifeless. "Not that it matters at this point, but you can call me Nictus and I greatly appreciate the gear you have just donated to me, I would love to stick around and serve this Dark Lady you seem so fond of, but I have a Zeppelin to catch and a Troll to find" he says to the corpse of the unfortunate guard as he strips him of all his valuables and clothing.
With a sort of a grin on the twisted remains of his rotted face Nictus climbs to the top of the Zeppelin tower and boards the boat bound for Kalmidor. "I will find these Darkclaw, and when I do..." he whispers to himself in Demonic "We will save mommy?" he asks himself in the echoing voice of a small boy, laughing out loud, not seeming to notice the uncomfortable stares of his fellow passengers he replies "Yeah Kid we will save mommy and perhaps we just might find peace"
Thunder Crashes, lighting strikes, cold wind blows as the waves crash steadily upon the rocky crags of a distant shore, the rapid clang of steel against steel intermixed with with the wails of the dieing and the screams of the soon to be dead. blurred images of horrors unseen in the dark. the warm orange-red glow of fire lights the air, smoke chokes the sky while the Forrest soil drinks in the blood of innocence like a greedy child.
Awake... The pain.... awake but still dark... Hard to breathe... Not breathing? No, breathing but just barely... Can't see, Blind? No, not blind... Eyes gone... Not blind, just dark... Eyes gone, can see... Can't move... Bound? Not bound, in a box... In a box!?...
Crying... twisting... pushing... tearing... ripping... wrenching.. digging... digging!
The peaceful night is destroyed by hollow anguished cries, the timid creatures living around the old mound of earth flee in terror as the thing, naked, save for the tattered remains of it's burial shroud slowly pulls itself from the ground.
Screaming... Crying... Crying and Screaming... furry.. soft... no escape... fragile... breakable.. eating... crunchy... bloody... tastey... Must have more... No... No! Must... Must control... Who? What? Why!
It screams into the night, blood and gore dripping from it's lips and bony claws, "WHY?" it seems to say in a garbled choked voice before falling to the ground in a heap crying and asking for it's mommy in the soft voice of a lost child.
Mommy?
Who... you... I... am... you... you are me, we are it. Why... Can't remember who.... Eyes... My Eyes are gone, Yet I see. How many fing... errr claws.. funny, claws, not fingers, but claws! funny sharp deadly killing claws, who? Who am I, my head burns, squirming, worming, biting, chewing eating my brain... Can't recall, remember, who... who... who am I? Why am I?
The thing sits up, looking around it begins to examine itself, slowly rocking back and forth mumbling and giggling as it looks at it's blood soaked claws, swiping the air as if in practice, or perhaps fending of the specter of a memory
Mommy... Help mommy, monsters, monsters are coming, where is daddy?
Lips moving... not talking.... Lips moving, not talking, not my voice, who's voice? My Lips not MY voice. MY LIPS No yours to Use. You want my lips, your voice needs my lips? You can't have my lips.. MY LIPS!
It curls into a little ball, weeping softly, calling out to it's mother warning her of danger, wanting it's father. The tears stop and it hops to it's feet in one agile move, still it begs it's mother to run, to flee the nightmares, pleading for help calling for it's daddy.
Suddenly it howls in a deep almost animistic voice "MY LIPS!" and with one surprising, lightning fast motion, digs it's dagger like claws into it's own neck, ripping it's jaw off and flinging it callously into the darkness of the forest. With the remains of it's greenish black, desiccated tongue waggling to and fro, it begins to laugh. Great dark peels of sinister guffawing replace the peaceful sounds of the night as it stumbles jerkily through the forest.
The voice does not stop, still whining and crying wanting it's mommy. How! I removed it's means, the ability to pester me with it's cries, how do I, he, it, we still talk? Why!? Shut it you little snot, you were not mine!... Mine? Who am I? Where am I why am I? What's that? Another voice? Not inside... A voice out side!
Yes!
Yes!
I hear you, yes!
I am coming just tell me where. Following the soft, sweet sound, calling me... beckoning me... begging me... enticing me... It wants me... loves me... offers me the way. the way to in-act my vengeance! Funny laughable vengeance, why? what? WHO AM I ?! I told you to shut it brat, you know nothing go find your mommy. Daddy has business to take care of
It perks it's head up and moves it's ear to the wind, the ragged rotted sockets where it's eyes once were glow dimly as the muscles of it's upper jaw begin to flex as if trying to smile. It begins to move faster sometimes hopping, sometimes sprinting most times on all fours like a twisted cheetah - human hybrid. It skids to a halt in a clearing, in front of a circle of stones. On all fours it circles the odd rock monument. sometimes sniffing the ground, sometimes standing perfectly still listening to the wind as it flairs suddenly, icy tendrils born from the sea. Without warning it flops on it's back and begins to roll in the grass, all the while laughing in the echoing voice of a small child.
Mommy? Where are you mommy?
Yes!
Yes Mommy!
I Hear You Mommy!
The Circle, yes Mommy the circle, You are safe in the circle mommy? You want me to go to the circle? Ok mommy I will go there the mean man is taking me. That... That light mommy... It's so pretty. Mommy. I can see you...
The whelp is silent for a change, The voice it is telling me to do things, teaching me things. I understand now. I know what it wants. I know what I am. Wait... What is that light... Purple light coming from the stones... Surrounding me...
It burns!
The pain!
I am screaming again... It's getting black again... That damned brat is laughing again...
It begins to pace around the circle of stones, shakily at first, giggling to itself as usual, Methodically as if in a trance it begins to in-act the ancient ritual of summoning. Purple tentacles of energy surround it. It laughs with glee as it begins to scream in pain and terror. an explosive flash of dark energy explodes into the night as it's smoking husk falls to the cold forest floor.
It stirs, laughing, it sits up and looks around, purple tendrils of energy sprout from it's rotted bald head and solidify into tough fibrous strands of stiff hair. The rotted muscles of it's upper jaw flex and form a twisted mockery of a grin. It stands steady on it's clawed feet, and slowly begins to rip the shroud from it's body using it to clean the dirt and gore from itself. "My my my all clean and pretty and not a thing to wear" it's says in a hissing, giggling, raspy voice as it looks around the empty clearing. As with purpose it walks through the forest.
Quietly humming to itself it strolls into a quiet dark town. It glares menacingly at an approaching monster and makes ready to attack the creature, in an almost similar raspy voice the creature greets it and tells it not to fear, that it means it no harm. It reluctantly let's it's guard down and attempts a winning smile. "I wonder if you could tell me where I might be?" It hisses at the creature. "You are in Brill Forsaken, I am Deathguard Mitchel. You must be a newly awakened conscript of the Dark Lady. Do they not teach you anything in Deathknell any more?" he replies."Yes.. Dark Lady... Brill... Conscript" it hisses trying not to giggle and failing. "Do you find something funny?" "What is your name?" the Deathguard asks. "I have a question for you actually" it interrupts, a grin trying to form on the remains of it's face. "What is it whelp?" The Deathguard asks.
Still giggling it asks "I was wondering... Does this hurt?" without warning inky black orbs of energy form around it's hands and crash into and through the chest of the shocked Deathguard. The white orbs of the guards eyes dim as he sinks to his knees lifeless. "Not that it matters at this point, but you can call me Nictus and I greatly appreciate the gear you have just donated to me, I would love to stick around and serve this Dark Lady you seem so fond of, but I have a Zeppelin to catch and a Troll to find" he says to the corpse of the unfortunate guard as he strips him of all his valuables and clothing.
With a sort of a grin on the twisted remains of his rotted face Nictus climbs to the top of the Zeppelin tower and boards the boat bound for Kalmidor. "I will find these Darkclaw, and when I do..." he whispers to himself in Demonic "We will save mommy?" he asks himself in the echoing voice of a small boy, laughing out loud, not seeming to notice the uncomfortable stares of his fellow passengers he replies "Yeah Kid we will save mommy and perhaps we just might find peace"