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LordoftheNight
Revered IFian
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 Posted: Sun Jul 01, 2007 12:10 am Post subject: Chapter Eighteen: K’zon |
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Chapter Eighteen: K’zon
Three hours earlier…
Kagemusho’s eyes flew open, grey bloodshot orbs flickering aimlessly around the small, windowless room he found himself in. Lying perfectly still, senses extended to their maximum, he listened to the sounds trickling through the white-washed walls of the room. Something was definitely different – the sound, the smell, the very feel of the air had changed. But what, and where was he?
Gracefully, he climbed to his feet, his motions both fluid and elegant. He stretched laboriously, rolling his neck from back and forth as he did so, savouring the feeling of freedom.
Of freedom. Was that it? Could that be what this new, tingling sensation was? He opened his mouth, running his tongue along his pearly white teeth. They seemed…different somehow. Sharper, longer. Hungrier. Searching the room once more, his dead eyes caught sight of a small hand mirror, resting on a corner table. He strode across to it, snatching it up and bringing it to his face.
It had been so long since he had seen…anything. They took his eyes – his beautiful eyes – and blinded him. Him. Master of a Thousand Souls, Lord of the Animus-Rapito. How dare they!?
In fury, he hurled the mirror from him, its silvered frame shattering into thousands of pieces. He could never bear to look upon the cold dead eyes that stared blindly back at him, could never focus on the lifeless orbs of his mortal frame. Could never…
…
Could never look upon himself at all – of course not – there was nothing to see with. The rituals that had killed his eyes had, obviously, killed his eyes. Destroyed his sight. Blinded him for eternity. He had been forced to use his other senses to find his way around. So why could he now see? Could it be? Could it have finally…no. They were better than that.
Gingerly he knelt to the floor once more, scraping up one of the mirrored shards. Somewhere – deep inside the shadowy recesses of what were once his pupils – something moved. Small, minute even, a miniscule red dot, that darted backwards and forwards through the grey orb – back and forth, back and forth – never remaining stationary for more than a moment.
It was…light. Almost alive. And it was magnificent. He could see…no longer would the symbols be the only thing burnt into his mind, the endless candle-light, and the robed figures – Methusila cursed figures – with their gesturing, and their chanting, and the constant, continuous drumming.
But none of that mattered anymore – he could see. And that meant…did it? Could it really? Was…
A sudden knock at the door sent him whirling round, a snarl checked in his throat. Who was it? Was he expecting guests? Company? Enemies? It had better not be enemies. He hated killing.
No – no that was all wrong. Hated killing? He loved killing. What was happening to him – he used to hate killing. Or did he love it first? Should he find out?
He licked his lips eagerly. Either way – he was going to enjoy finding out. Body crouched low; he stepped to the door, ready to spring at the intruder. There was a second knock, louder this time. He swung it open, glaring into the eyes of…of nothing. There was nothing, no-one, nobody. How strange.
Cautiously, he knocked at the door, knuckles rapping on the hard wood. It sounded the same. But there was no-one there. Rising to his full height, he stepped through the door, and closed it behind him. There were…voices…coming from down the hall. Lots of voices. But only one voice from up the hall. A woman. Singing.
He stretched out his hand, to try and decide which way to turn – only to see that it was bleeding. Blood. It was a long time since he had seen blood.
Wait. No it wasn’t. There was blood just days ago – he remembered now. How silly of him to forget. Blood – and the girl. She hadn’t been afraid of him…why? Everyone should be afraid of him. Wait – there was more. There had been a sword…why a sword? Why could he remember the sword?
Black, black…darker than the night. And yet, it was also white. And shiny…how very shiny. No-one else could see it shine – no one ever could. He had – he had held it, hadn’t he? Yes…and it sang to him. Such a sweet, sweet song.
He hated it.
He…wait. Blood. Blood was always more important. Was it his? Had someone attacked him? He glanced left and right. He would kill them. Kill them. No one could attack him. No one!
There was no-one there. He sniffed at the blood, and licked it from his palm. Yes – it was definitely his blood. He remembered it from long ago – yummy. The woman was singing again. Yes, she would do.
He slunk up against the wall, concealing himself within the shadows. She couldn’t see him – she wouldn’t see anything. She wouldn’t even have time to scream…wait. Yes she would. He remembered now, he liked it when they screamed. And not just women. Men screamed, boys screamed, girls screamed. They all did, in the end.
The door at the end of the hallway was locked – he could see that. Nothing to worry about. The door still splintered as he forced his way through, leaving just the lock in place. The women let out a sharp yell of surprise, dropping the plate in her hand.
“You…but you…” she stuttered, terror evident in her eyes. “You can’t be – you were in a coma. Your mind was dead, it…” he cut her off. His hand clenched around her throat, choking her into silence. Almost tenderly he lifted her into the air, face slowly turning blue.
His other hand played with her – it had been so long. Such a very long time since he had last touched someone. She had died then too he remembered. His claws…when did he get claws? They weren’t there a moment ago. But…but he did remember them. His claws raked down her front, clothes ripping away from her body, blood dripping down to splash on the floor.
It was with reverence that he gazed at her bare form. Such a very…very long time. He took her, her gasps for breathe only serving to heighten his enjoyment. She was still when he had done. Still, and growing cold.
That did not mean the fun part was over though – there was plenty of parts still to play with. Her skin was the first to go – can’t get to the goodies with that still in place. Red and round and dripping. And yummy of course. The goodies always were.
He looked at his hands once more – now he could see what had lain hidden beneath the blood. It was the symbol…once. Now it was nothing but a charred ruin of twisted flesh. Teeheehee. They didn’t think of that one. All those years ago, and something so simple had ended it.
Teeheehee.
He decided it was time to pay a visit downstairs. They might leave otherwise, and he wouldn’t want them to miss the party. Everyone liked parties. Should he bring a gift? He looked down at what was left of the woman, and smiled.
*********************************************************************************************
The drunken revelry came to a sudden stop as the body came thudding down the stairs. Men and women snatched for their blades, trained warriors reacting in an instant to the appearance of the bloodied figure staring down at them. Kurt Helgane launched the first arrow, but the figure swayed aside, the arrow jutting out of the stairwell behind him. Almost as one, another three darts shot towards…it, the creature simply swatting them out of the air, as if he had not a care in the world.
But he did. And right now, all he desired was death, was carnage, was blood. To fill the room with the screams of the dying. He tilted his head back, and howling, venting his anger at the crowd. Then he leapt, springing towards the gathered crowd below him. Jess Mitilone died first, her throat ripped out by the creature’s claws. Her blood flew across the warriors, drenching them in her lifeblood.
They surged forwards, eager to avenge their dead comrades. It swatted them aside as if they were children. Chance was disembowelled, the creature’s talons tearing easily through his leather breastplate. Mikelus’s leg was removed, the beast stepping inside his guard to beat him to death with it. San-swan was the only one who actually managed to land a blow, opening up a wicked gash on the creature’s shoulder. Blood spewed out, hissing as it covered the desperate warriors, who were left screaming in agony.
Two minutes after the body had tumbled into their midst, all score of them lay dead or dying. The creature crouched by the broken body of a silver armoured warrior, and stared into the dying man’s eyes. In his reflection, he could see his fangs disappearing once more, talons retracting back to form normal fingers once more. His eyes were now a pure bright red, no hint of the lifeless orbs that previously hung in their place.
“I came here with a girl,” he spoke, half statement, half question. His voice was actually gentle, a soft caress. No hint of the berserk killing machine that had thrown itself into the room with mindless abandon, just moments previously.
“Nor…north. She went north,” he stammered, choking out his last breath.
“Thank you,” he smiled, reaching down to break the man’s throat. He climbed to his feet, and wiped a spot of blood from his cheek. Licking it carefully from his fingertips, he strode towards the door. “North it is then,” he smiled. “Once I have the sword, nothing will stop me. Not even the thrice-cursed Hoeder.”
It had been millennia, but K’zon was finally back. He had sated the beast within, and had returned to his former glory. Let the galaxy burn.
_________________
Punishment leads to Fear. Fear leads to Obedience. Obedience leads to Freedom. Therefore, Punishment leads to Freedom.
Ave Dominus Nox
A Fronte Praecipitium a Tergo Lupi
Blood Bowl
Scraping the Barrel
A Tale of Four Swords
Passion
Last edited by LordoftheNight on Tue Jul 03, 2007 12:26 pm; edited 2 times in total
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LordoftheNight
Revered IFian
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| Posted: Sun Jul 01, 2007 12:13 am Post subject: |
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There you go - another new chapter.
It's almost regular now.
I'm really not confident about this chapter - I tried to do something different for most of it, to represent his perspective. Please tell me what you thought.
No decision point again - next chapter will have one.
Feel free to add it to your favourites *hint hint*
_________________
Punishment leads to Fear. Fear leads to Obedience. Obedience leads to Freedom. Therefore, Punishment leads to Freedom.
Ave Dominus Nox
A Fronte Praecipitium a Tergo Lupi
Blood Bowl
Scraping the Barrel
A Tale of Four Swords
Passion
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sun Jul 01, 2007 12:21 am Post subject: |
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Ohhh...nice. The mentor becomes the monster...*taps talons thoughtfully*
Now let us hope that the sword can remain from his grasp...
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Sun Jul 01, 2007 12:41 am Post subject: |
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Satanic_Mechanic
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| Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 9:39 am Post subject: |
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Oh man that was awesome!
I think the teeheeing was particularly good  Both amusing and sinister! And that last line gave me shivers - excellent chapter!!
So...now he doesn't have that mark, he's gone all evil? And he's lookin' for Fronte...I'm guessing he's not gonna give her a fruit basket...
Update soon, God, please? 
X
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Chinaren
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Smudger
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| Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2007 12:29 pm Post subject: re |
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 Lordy why do you not write more SGs!?This was brilliant, I enjoyed his confusion particularly and the teehee was very you 
Can't wait for DP,and more
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Tue Jul 10, 2007 2:32 pm Post subject: |
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 Wow, what a great chapter!
A fantastic twist, just at the right time...
Have just caught up now, and ready to read more.
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