Post by Monkey Monk on May 13, 2006 19:17:27 GMT -6
Ok everyone, keep in mind this story isn't done yet. I'll edit this post each time I write up more.
~~
Moonlight cascaded down upon the cold stone floor from the murky glass windows. The crisp night wind pushed tree limbs to rake long, claw-like branches over the old house. A single window was lit with the wavering light of a candle.
Outside the bulky shadows crept one by one to the front door built of sturdy oak. Each and every one would draw the hood of their cloak tight, look around in the same exact way, and then knock. Almost seemingly before their knuckles even touched the old wood, a metal plate would slide to the side. This was ensued by a whispered, brief conversation and the door would open inward to permit the hidden figures to enter the darkness, one by one.
Each figure would traverse into the dark passages, finding safety in the shadows. A distant light seemed to draw them to itself, like moths to a lantern. It's warm, caressing rays were almost like a mother's touch to these tortured souls. Once they had shed the darkness, like the assortment of hats and hoods they had shed at the door, the rag-tag people mixed together. Occasionally a pair would acknowledge each other with a nod of the head, a grasping of hands, or even a hug. No one spoke. They all seemed to be simple townspeople. Yet man, woman, and child alike all bore an arsenal of kitchen utensils, farming equipment, and rusted blades, holding them as a legionary would his shield and spear before battle. Indeed something bothered the minds of these simple folk.
Slowly the girth of the congregation grew. Soon around three score citizens crowded the dank room. The hundreds of candles around the area flicked their flames away from the murmur of wind-like whispers. Soon, from the West entrances, people began to part. A corridor of sorts was formed between walls of grim, sober faces. A lone figure trekked down the gap slowly. Complete silence quickly washed over the crowd. It was only a few moments, yet seemingly hours, before the person stepped up the half-rotten steps of an old platform. There they waited for the eerie silence to grow uncomfortable, hiding their facial features withing the shadows cast forth by a hood. Slowly a pair of pale hands, which were so devoid of fat that the bones protruded in a sickening manor, reached forward and drew back the concealment.
When the heavy cloth was resting upon the man's shoulders a sharp intake of breath came from the mob. Before them stood the nearly unrecognizable Aero boy. He had joined the Taken twenty years ago. Yet the thing that helped the old to recognize the young man was a prominent scar over his left eye. A scythe swung by his drunkard father during his early years had disfigured the boy and robbed him of his eye. Only a few weeks later the Dark Ones had taken him in the last Harvest.
After twenty years much had changed in this lost soul. His one good eye was a pure white, irises and all. Chains draped from his belt and cascaded over his pant legs, the individual links cast from a black metal. The only thing that covered the man's chest were scars and dual ammo belts making him seem like a character from movies, the latter word being a something that the oldest residents seemed to miss dearly from before The Coming. Wisps of thick, black hair covered his empty socket. That white eye seemed to peer into the very souls of the people.
There he was, one of the flock returned a shepherd. His very presence had a commanding air. Soon the man's lips parted, letting loose a raspy, deep voice that rang out into the air. Everyone listened intently, trembling with each word that reached their ears. Complete silence had captivated the people. The only things to hear were the howling wind outside and the Aero boy's words.
"Good evening..." There was a pause as he let the words sink in more than needed before continuing," As some of you know, I am Blaze Aero. The One Eyes Cripple, Cyclops, and a number of other names..."
Again that eerie silence fell upon the room. A few people stiffed with guilty looks on their faces. However, Blaze seemed to ignore the shame-faced people and simply went on.
"I am also a Taken. The first to escape. I bring you news and a duty with it. The news that of what happens to the Taken. The Dark Ones play God with us. They make us work during the day and then take one of us to the white rooms at night. There they work their evil sorcery, science as I have heard it called. What matters is that there are only a few Taken still alive. Yes, I say only a few and we all know what that means... Another Harvest."
Instantly a roar of voices filled the room. It was inevitable, but the people always hoped that the Dark Ones would soon grow tired of their evil magics and leave them be. Once the raucous whispers died down, Blaze continued.
"Our duty is to gather our arms and march to rescue our brethren. Man, woman, and child must all come."
"Blasphemy!"
Countless faces turned to the one in their midst. The outburst had come from the oldest resident of the area, a grizzled old man who had markings on his arm and was missing several teeth. Briskly he walked to the platform and gazed daringly up at Blaze. His voice shot out like a snake lunges, each word a fang glistening with deadly poison.
"What weapons are you talking about young Aero?
The sheep were silent. A wolf had risen from their numbers to confront their shepherd. However, Blaze remained calm. He even seemed amused by the elder's response, almost as if he had anticipated it and planned out his rebuttal. As he spoke, he motioned to a young, teenage boy who clung onto the sharp, broken handle of a shovel.
"I am talking about weapons like what this boy has. The Dark Ones are no different as he is from you. They eat, sleep, and breath. They grow old and die. They can be killed!"
A murmur burst through the the crowd. The Dark Ones had always been viewed as immortal, demonic creatures forced upon them as punishment for what their predecessors had done in the Blind Era preceding The Coming. Seeing these old adversaries as mortal came hard to many. The children had grown up with promises of masked fiends stealing them from bed for not finishing dinner, threatening them to obey their parents. The old man from before remained silent, having always said that the Dark Ones were not invincible.
Suddenly an echoing crash filled the air. Wind tore down the hall and extinguished the candles with a single gust. The crowd drew silent, motionless. Not even a child dared to move. Not a sound filled the air, not even the wind outside. The moon had gone to hide behind the clouds, as if it knew something was coming and had no desire to watch. Someone stifled a cough.
And then they came. Three setts of green lights bouncing slowly in the air. Still no sound came as those luminescent dots approached. Even the toddlers knew what those lights were. At last the moon allowed itself to be seen, it's ivory rays bathing the halls and room with a pale light through the dirty windows. There in the hall stood three figures. They seemed to be human. Black uniforms covered their bodies, nylon rope of the same hue draped over their shoulders. Masks covered their faces, the green lights coming from a device that covered their right eyes. Each being held an oily black rod in their hands. However the middle one, the obvious leader, was different from his two companions. Not in what he wore or specie mind you. His mask was made entirely of devices, resembling what the elders called a gas mask. His breathing sounded metallic, raspy. The moonlight allowed the crowd to watch as his head turned around slowly. A black, gloved hand raised, causing everyone to hold their breath. Then it fell down.
And then all Hell broke loose.
The other two Dark Ones stepped forth. One of them grabbed a young girl. Instantly the silence was broken by a mother's cries and the girl's wails. The second masked fiend moved to the stage to obviously capture Blaze. However the boy with the broken shovel stepped before them.
Memories of all the suffering caused by these abominations filled the child's mind. Anger burned passionately within his chest. That passionate loathing simmered into a desire. A desire that can be traced back to the very origin of man. Revenge. Before the teen knew what he was doing, he plunged his primitive weapon forth. The Dark One simultaneously swung his oily black rod at the attacker.
Silence once more, and then the dull thump of a body falling. Darkness came for a moment until the cloud that had covered the moon moved on.
There on the ground, bleeding a pool of blood onto the floor, laid the Dark One. The wooden spire protruded from his chest. In disbelief the people stared at the fallen foe. Gazes moved to look at the other two shadowy figures, but they had gone off into the night. A mother's sobs came gushing forth once more. The little girl was gone as well. She was the first in the Harvest and there would be more. Unless something was done.
Miles away and hours later, the sun began to rise. Hues of rose and gold painted across the sky. Clouds were lit up like heavenly lanterns. Like a warm blanket, sun light slowly began to spread over the terrain. Usually one would hear the sounds of birds singing cheerfully, the sounds of animals stirring, and essentially the sounds of the world awakening. However not this morning. They say that animals have a way of sensing when something terrible was going to happen.
Soon the light hit something that seemed out of place among the trees and foliage of the surrounding forest. It was a building, one constructed of iron and stone. The ramparts and smoke stacks made the construct look like the bastard child of a castle and a factory. Nothing grew near this place. The few trees that stood were gray and lifeless, mere corpses left to rot in the open. Not a blade of grass grew, leaving the ground brown and dreary.
At last movement stirred in the forest. The villagers emerged, halting in the shadows of the trees. With awe they gazed up at the monolith which housed those that they had come to destroy. Slowly Blaze stepped in front of the crowd. For weapons he bore antique revolving pistols. The bullets set into the ammo belts on his chest gleamed in the light. Slowly he turned around to face his comrades. When he spoke, his words were strong and burned in the minds of the sheep who so intently listened to their shepherd.
"For too long have we been treated like live stock by the Dark Ones! For too long have we endured the pain of loosing our friends and family! For too long we have cowered in the corner and shadows at the mentioning of a Harvest! Our time has come! This morning we fight back! We fight for our safety and the safety of our child, and the safety of their children. When we are done, no one will ever fear a Dark One again!"
In unison the people roared in approval. They were enthralled by the speech. Even small children waved their knives in the air. The people were becoming savage-like. Silence fell on them as a procession came through their numbers. The teenage boy walked to Blaze slowly. Embedded upon a pike of wood was the Dark One's head. Quite suddenly Blaze reached up and grabbed the bottom of the mask before ripping his hand back to himself. A gasp filled the air at what the people saw. There before their eyes was a head that looked any other man's. There were no demonic horns, no unnatural features. All there was to see was a decapitated head, the cheeks covered with the stubble that comes from a few days of not shaving. Another cheer rang out from the blood thirsty crowd.
The Dark Ones could be killed.
The people charged heedlessly to the building. No resistance was offered as they ran right into the courtyard. Silence fell on them once more due to the tense silence. Blaze stepped in front of his flocked. He walked up a small flight of steps, his hand moved to the door handle. Cautiously he turned the device and pushed the door inward. After a moment of gazing inside, he motioned for the others to follow.
They found themselves in a hall with marble floors. Bright lights shone down from the ceiling, showing two halls that went in opposite directions. As if they were following an unspoken order, the mob followed their leader down the hall to their right. For what seemed nearly a half hour they walked through the unchanging corridor. However they stopped when they saw a stair case heading downward.
Not breaking the silence, the flocked followed their shepherd down the stairs. There were faced with a room of cells, the scent of hay and human waste filled the air. Only a few of the imprisonments held a Taken. Quickly the woman ran to a cell which held her daughter. Both sobbed uncontrollably as they tried to embrace each other, the metal bars hindering them for doing what they so desired. As the others went to help, the lights suddenly went out.
At first there were only a few green dots. However many more began to appear. Like city lights flicking on, a sea of green lights hovered within the air. For a moment it seemed that time had stopped. Not a breath was drawn, not a muscle moved. Suddenly the silence was broken with screams and cries as the Dark Ones performed the Harvest of the flock.
I write to you of the occurrences that have taken place here at Research Facility Beta. Patient #3729 escaped and returned to the village. He was rousing the specimens so we accordingly sent Brothers Thomas, John, and myself to retrieve him. Brother Thomas perished while Brother John and I fled back here with a young female specimen. Patient #3729 led the other specimens here in hopes of destroying the facility. Luckily there were no more casualties, however I regret to inform you Patient #3729 escaped. Currently Brother Sean is leading a group in search of him. There is good news however. The young female Brother Joan retrieved had a prominent gene in her DNA. Currently we are experimenting with serums, but I do believe we will have a successful cure to the plague that has ravaged the world. I await your response and plan to keep you updated.
The Day of Our Lord, August 12, 2187
Brother Nathaniel, Overseer of Research Facility Beta
Slowly the masked man rose from his desk, folding the letter after reviewing it several times. He gently slipped the paper into an envelope which he sealed with wax. Slowly he brought his hands to his mask once he had set the letter down. The devices were removed with a hiss of air and he looked to the mirror. For a moment he examined his face, noting that he would to shave and bathe soon. Suddenly he saw a face in the window through the reflection of the mirror. A face with only one, pure white eye. However when he turned around all there was to see was the dark night and all there was to hear was the wind howling through the trees outside.
~~
Moonlight cascaded down upon the cold stone floor from the murky glass windows. The crisp night wind pushed tree limbs to rake long, claw-like branches over the old house. A single window was lit with the wavering light of a candle.
Outside the bulky shadows crept one by one to the front door built of sturdy oak. Each and every one would draw the hood of their cloak tight, look around in the same exact way, and then knock. Almost seemingly before their knuckles even touched the old wood, a metal plate would slide to the side. This was ensued by a whispered, brief conversation and the door would open inward to permit the hidden figures to enter the darkness, one by one.
Each figure would traverse into the dark passages, finding safety in the shadows. A distant light seemed to draw them to itself, like moths to a lantern. It's warm, caressing rays were almost like a mother's touch to these tortured souls. Once they had shed the darkness, like the assortment of hats and hoods they had shed at the door, the rag-tag people mixed together. Occasionally a pair would acknowledge each other with a nod of the head, a grasping of hands, or even a hug. No one spoke. They all seemed to be simple townspeople. Yet man, woman, and child alike all bore an arsenal of kitchen utensils, farming equipment, and rusted blades, holding them as a legionary would his shield and spear before battle. Indeed something bothered the minds of these simple folk.
Slowly the girth of the congregation grew. Soon around three score citizens crowded the dank room. The hundreds of candles around the area flicked their flames away from the murmur of wind-like whispers. Soon, from the West entrances, people began to part. A corridor of sorts was formed between walls of grim, sober faces. A lone figure trekked down the gap slowly. Complete silence quickly washed over the crowd. It was only a few moments, yet seemingly hours, before the person stepped up the half-rotten steps of an old platform. There they waited for the eerie silence to grow uncomfortable, hiding their facial features withing the shadows cast forth by a hood. Slowly a pair of pale hands, which were so devoid of fat that the bones protruded in a sickening manor, reached forward and drew back the concealment.
When the heavy cloth was resting upon the man's shoulders a sharp intake of breath came from the mob. Before them stood the nearly unrecognizable Aero boy. He had joined the Taken twenty years ago. Yet the thing that helped the old to recognize the young man was a prominent scar over his left eye. A scythe swung by his drunkard father during his early years had disfigured the boy and robbed him of his eye. Only a few weeks later the Dark Ones had taken him in the last Harvest.
After twenty years much had changed in this lost soul. His one good eye was a pure white, irises and all. Chains draped from his belt and cascaded over his pant legs, the individual links cast from a black metal. The only thing that covered the man's chest were scars and dual ammo belts making him seem like a character from movies, the latter word being a something that the oldest residents seemed to miss dearly from before The Coming. Wisps of thick, black hair covered his empty socket. That white eye seemed to peer into the very souls of the people.
There he was, one of the flock returned a shepherd. His very presence had a commanding air. Soon the man's lips parted, letting loose a raspy, deep voice that rang out into the air. Everyone listened intently, trembling with each word that reached their ears. Complete silence had captivated the people. The only things to hear were the howling wind outside and the Aero boy's words.
"Good evening..." There was a pause as he let the words sink in more than needed before continuing," As some of you know, I am Blaze Aero. The One Eyes Cripple, Cyclops, and a number of other names..."
Again that eerie silence fell upon the room. A few people stiffed with guilty looks on their faces. However, Blaze seemed to ignore the shame-faced people and simply went on.
"I am also a Taken. The first to escape. I bring you news and a duty with it. The news that of what happens to the Taken. The Dark Ones play God with us. They make us work during the day and then take one of us to the white rooms at night. There they work their evil sorcery, science as I have heard it called. What matters is that there are only a few Taken still alive. Yes, I say only a few and we all know what that means... Another Harvest."
Instantly a roar of voices filled the room. It was inevitable, but the people always hoped that the Dark Ones would soon grow tired of their evil magics and leave them be. Once the raucous whispers died down, Blaze continued.
"Our duty is to gather our arms and march to rescue our brethren. Man, woman, and child must all come."
"Blasphemy!"
Countless faces turned to the one in their midst. The outburst had come from the oldest resident of the area, a grizzled old man who had markings on his arm and was missing several teeth. Briskly he walked to the platform and gazed daringly up at Blaze. His voice shot out like a snake lunges, each word a fang glistening with deadly poison.
"What weapons are you talking about young Aero?
The sheep were silent. A wolf had risen from their numbers to confront their shepherd. However, Blaze remained calm. He even seemed amused by the elder's response, almost as if he had anticipated it and planned out his rebuttal. As he spoke, he motioned to a young, teenage boy who clung onto the sharp, broken handle of a shovel.
"I am talking about weapons like what this boy has. The Dark Ones are no different as he is from you. They eat, sleep, and breath. They grow old and die. They can be killed!"
A murmur burst through the the crowd. The Dark Ones had always been viewed as immortal, demonic creatures forced upon them as punishment for what their predecessors had done in the Blind Era preceding The Coming. Seeing these old adversaries as mortal came hard to many. The children had grown up with promises of masked fiends stealing them from bed for not finishing dinner, threatening them to obey their parents. The old man from before remained silent, having always said that the Dark Ones were not invincible.
Suddenly an echoing crash filled the air. Wind tore down the hall and extinguished the candles with a single gust. The crowd drew silent, motionless. Not even a child dared to move. Not a sound filled the air, not even the wind outside. The moon had gone to hide behind the clouds, as if it knew something was coming and had no desire to watch. Someone stifled a cough.
And then they came. Three setts of green lights bouncing slowly in the air. Still no sound came as those luminescent dots approached. Even the toddlers knew what those lights were. At last the moon allowed itself to be seen, it's ivory rays bathing the halls and room with a pale light through the dirty windows. There in the hall stood three figures. They seemed to be human. Black uniforms covered their bodies, nylon rope of the same hue draped over their shoulders. Masks covered their faces, the green lights coming from a device that covered their right eyes. Each being held an oily black rod in their hands. However the middle one, the obvious leader, was different from his two companions. Not in what he wore or specie mind you. His mask was made entirely of devices, resembling what the elders called a gas mask. His breathing sounded metallic, raspy. The moonlight allowed the crowd to watch as his head turned around slowly. A black, gloved hand raised, causing everyone to hold their breath. Then it fell down.
And then all Hell broke loose.
The other two Dark Ones stepped forth. One of them grabbed a young girl. Instantly the silence was broken by a mother's cries and the girl's wails. The second masked fiend moved to the stage to obviously capture Blaze. However the boy with the broken shovel stepped before them.
Memories of all the suffering caused by these abominations filled the child's mind. Anger burned passionately within his chest. That passionate loathing simmered into a desire. A desire that can be traced back to the very origin of man. Revenge. Before the teen knew what he was doing, he plunged his primitive weapon forth. The Dark One simultaneously swung his oily black rod at the attacker.
Silence once more, and then the dull thump of a body falling. Darkness came for a moment until the cloud that had covered the moon moved on.
There on the ground, bleeding a pool of blood onto the floor, laid the Dark One. The wooden spire protruded from his chest. In disbelief the people stared at the fallen foe. Gazes moved to look at the other two shadowy figures, but they had gone off into the night. A mother's sobs came gushing forth once more. The little girl was gone as well. She was the first in the Harvest and there would be more. Unless something was done.
Miles away and hours later, the sun began to rise. Hues of rose and gold painted across the sky. Clouds were lit up like heavenly lanterns. Like a warm blanket, sun light slowly began to spread over the terrain. Usually one would hear the sounds of birds singing cheerfully, the sounds of animals stirring, and essentially the sounds of the world awakening. However not this morning. They say that animals have a way of sensing when something terrible was going to happen.
Soon the light hit something that seemed out of place among the trees and foliage of the surrounding forest. It was a building, one constructed of iron and stone. The ramparts and smoke stacks made the construct look like the bastard child of a castle and a factory. Nothing grew near this place. The few trees that stood were gray and lifeless, mere corpses left to rot in the open. Not a blade of grass grew, leaving the ground brown and dreary.
At last movement stirred in the forest. The villagers emerged, halting in the shadows of the trees. With awe they gazed up at the monolith which housed those that they had come to destroy. Slowly Blaze stepped in front of the crowd. For weapons he bore antique revolving pistols. The bullets set into the ammo belts on his chest gleamed in the light. Slowly he turned around to face his comrades. When he spoke, his words were strong and burned in the minds of the sheep who so intently listened to their shepherd.
"For too long have we been treated like live stock by the Dark Ones! For too long have we endured the pain of loosing our friends and family! For too long we have cowered in the corner and shadows at the mentioning of a Harvest! Our time has come! This morning we fight back! We fight for our safety and the safety of our child, and the safety of their children. When we are done, no one will ever fear a Dark One again!"
In unison the people roared in approval. They were enthralled by the speech. Even small children waved their knives in the air. The people were becoming savage-like. Silence fell on them as a procession came through their numbers. The teenage boy walked to Blaze slowly. Embedded upon a pike of wood was the Dark One's head. Quite suddenly Blaze reached up and grabbed the bottom of the mask before ripping his hand back to himself. A gasp filled the air at what the people saw. There before their eyes was a head that looked any other man's. There were no demonic horns, no unnatural features. All there was to see was a decapitated head, the cheeks covered with the stubble that comes from a few days of not shaving. Another cheer rang out from the blood thirsty crowd.
The Dark Ones could be killed.
The people charged heedlessly to the building. No resistance was offered as they ran right into the courtyard. Silence fell on them once more due to the tense silence. Blaze stepped in front of his flocked. He walked up a small flight of steps, his hand moved to the door handle. Cautiously he turned the device and pushed the door inward. After a moment of gazing inside, he motioned for the others to follow.
They found themselves in a hall with marble floors. Bright lights shone down from the ceiling, showing two halls that went in opposite directions. As if they were following an unspoken order, the mob followed their leader down the hall to their right. For what seemed nearly a half hour they walked through the unchanging corridor. However they stopped when they saw a stair case heading downward.
Not breaking the silence, the flocked followed their shepherd down the stairs. There were faced with a room of cells, the scent of hay and human waste filled the air. Only a few of the imprisonments held a Taken. Quickly the woman ran to a cell which held her daughter. Both sobbed uncontrollably as they tried to embrace each other, the metal bars hindering them for doing what they so desired. As the others went to help, the lights suddenly went out.
At first there were only a few green dots. However many more began to appear. Like city lights flicking on, a sea of green lights hovered within the air. For a moment it seemed that time had stopped. Not a breath was drawn, not a muscle moved. Suddenly the silence was broken with screams and cries as the Dark Ones performed the Harvest of the flock.
I write to you of the occurrences that have taken place here at Research Facility Beta. Patient #3729 escaped and returned to the village. He was rousing the specimens so we accordingly sent Brothers Thomas, John, and myself to retrieve him. Brother Thomas perished while Brother John and I fled back here with a young female specimen. Patient #3729 led the other specimens here in hopes of destroying the facility. Luckily there were no more casualties, however I regret to inform you Patient #3729 escaped. Currently Brother Sean is leading a group in search of him. There is good news however. The young female Brother Joan retrieved had a prominent gene in her DNA. Currently we are experimenting with serums, but I do believe we will have a successful cure to the plague that has ravaged the world. I await your response and plan to keep you updated.
The Day of Our Lord, August 12, 2187
Brother Nathaniel, Overseer of Research Facility Beta
Slowly the masked man rose from his desk, folding the letter after reviewing it several times. He gently slipped the paper into an envelope which he sealed with wax. Slowly he brought his hands to his mask once he had set the letter down. The devices were removed with a hiss of air and he looked to the mirror. For a moment he examined his face, noting that he would to shave and bathe soon. Suddenly he saw a face in the window through the reflection of the mirror. A face with only one, pure white eye. However when he turned around all there was to see was the dark night and all there was to hear was the wind howling through the trees outside.
