Post by Deleted on May 16, 2017 22:35:56 GMT -6
Chapter I: Birth
Silence. Faint sounds. Moaning. Pain. I am in pain. I am screaming.
My eyes struggle to open, one is swollen shut while the other is covered in my own blood. Where am I? Darkness. There is nothing to see but the void. I push myself up halfway before an indescribable pain objects. How did I get here? Him. I was put here by him for some sort of test. I didn't even know who "he" was, just that his ominous presence was everywhere and nowhere at once, that he was far beyond me in all things. For some reason, he wanted me to fight this... beast. I call it a beast only because there is no word in the English language to describe it's refined evil. It is this beast that has been mutilating my body for a time that I can no longer remember.
One solid corner of something metal cracks my shoulder with unholy force. My lungs rapidly fill with air and blood, choking a sharp whine of agony and despair. It is followed by a hammer to my elbow, shattering under the beast's cruelty.
A new kind of suffering fills my broken body. Energy pulls every bone and organ back into it's place and soon seals the surface injuries with what feels like molten steel. I don't understand, I simply know that another wave of butchering will follow, so I bolt.
I run into a stone column, a glancing blow, one that leaves a sinister mark on the side of my head as if it was punishing me for being some type of coward. I pivot, then press my back against the rock pillar and silence my very soul. The beast is close. I can hear it's malicious scraping footsteps. It inhales, rushes of wind screeching through it's tight, mucusy airways. The beast hisses like a lion seperated from its fresh kill. Am I safe? Can it smell me? The thing answers my questions by ripping out a mouthful my flesh, giving me barely just enough time to cry out into the void. The beast wrenches back and spits my tissue and bone to its side.
My chest has a gushing hole, ribs more then likely exposed to the moldy atmosphere. I slump down, knowing I will die unable to fight my most recent wound. Then it happens again, as if someone was yanking on my ribcage with the intent to break it open while pouring liquid fire into the rest of my body. I cannot go on like this. Until this day, I had not known fear. I was always, "The brave one" willing to do anything for my irrational siblings. Today, fear is a part of me. Terror is something I know infinately well. My horror is being locked in this fate for all of eternity.
Silence. Faint sounds. Moaning. Pain. I am in pain. I am screaming.
My eyes struggle to open, one is swollen shut while the other is covered in my own blood. Where am I? Darkness. There is nothing to see but the void. I push myself up halfway before an indescribable pain objects. How did I get here? Him. I was put here by him for some sort of test. I didn't even know who "he" was, just that his ominous presence was everywhere and nowhere at once, that he was far beyond me in all things. For some reason, he wanted me to fight this... beast. I call it a beast only because there is no word in the English language to describe it's refined evil. It is this beast that has been mutilating my body for a time that I can no longer remember.
One solid corner of something metal cracks my shoulder with unholy force. My lungs rapidly fill with air and blood, choking a sharp whine of agony and despair. It is followed by a hammer to my elbow, shattering under the beast's cruelty.
A new kind of suffering fills my broken body. Energy pulls every bone and organ back into it's place and soon seals the surface injuries with what feels like molten steel. I don't understand, I simply know that another wave of butchering will follow, so I bolt.
I run into a stone column, a glancing blow, one that leaves a sinister mark on the side of my head as if it was punishing me for being some type of coward. I pivot, then press my back against the rock pillar and silence my very soul. The beast is close. I can hear it's malicious scraping footsteps. It inhales, rushes of wind screeching through it's tight, mucusy airways. The beast hisses like a lion seperated from its fresh kill. Am I safe? Can it smell me? The thing answers my questions by ripping out a mouthful my flesh, giving me barely just enough time to cry out into the void. The beast wrenches back and spits my tissue and bone to its side.
My chest has a gushing hole, ribs more then likely exposed to the moldy atmosphere. I slump down, knowing I will die unable to fight my most recent wound. Then it happens again, as if someone was yanking on my ribcage with the intent to break it open while pouring liquid fire into the rest of my body. I cannot go on like this. Until this day, I had not known fear. I was always, "The brave one" willing to do anything for my irrational siblings. Today, fear is a part of me. Terror is something I know infinately well. My horror is being locked in this fate for all of eternity.