Thursday, August 23, 2012


They hunted at night, growing stronger in numbers as each moon rose. They crawled forth  from the soil, horrid constructs made of mud, faces featureless. The innocent fled from them, but their unnatural speed claimed dozens, dragging them back into the earth from which they came.
            There was one who could stand in their way: The town's champion, a pinnacle of righteousness. Each night as the creatures attacked, he was at the forefront, protecting the innocents and minimizing casualties. But his efforts could only do so much.
            Traditional weaponry proved no match for the otherworldly creatures, with each slash of his sword their limbs reformed as they closed in. So he chose to study them, edging closer with each night, prying the innocent from their viscous hold. He tried to learn more about them, desperate to end this slaughter.
            But as the numbers dwindled each day, the people lost their faith in him. He was summoned to the Great Hall. There the Elders chastised him for his lack of progression in defeating the invaders, even going as far as accusing him of sacrificing the villagers in order to save his own life. He implored them that he needed more time, he was so close to finding their secrets.
            "You have one night." The Great Elder bellowed. The hall shook as his voice echoed. Something chilled the Hero as they brought forth his ultimatum. He could almost sense a familiar unearthly stir as the silence barraged him with doubt. He felt a shadow slither behind him, whispering cryptic messages and warnings.
            He had to find out.
            On his last night, he ordered the remaining survivors to gather at the Hall, binding all the doors and windows. He prepared his last stand at the foot of the gates, unarmed and without protection. The hours passed and the Sun abandoned him, casting a last reprimand of his foolishness as it descended.
            As every night before, the onslaught arrived. He stood firm as the mass overtook him. He gasped for air as the beasts filled his lungs with their murky flesh, consuming him. He stood up as long as he could, trying desperately to keep them away from the innocent. He felt his knees weaken as he was pushed into the ground. The shadow approached him again, taunting him with more obscure messages.
            He could continue no longer, his strength waned. He released his grasp of the creatures, and let them do what they willed. But they left him lying there, subduing him only to move to the people boarded inside the Hall. He closed his eyes as weakness took over, unable to bear witness to the horrors that awaited them.
            He had not passed through Death's gate just yet, and he heard footsteps approach. Familiar voices filled the air, and as they grew near, he gained a twisted sense of clarity. Hope was lost to the ones he swore to protect.
            "Good. With this one finally taken care of, the ritual can be completed," The Great Elder admitted, tossing a black shroud over the Hero's body.

            This one came to me in a dream last night, so if it's totally incoherent and crappy, blame my f-ed up psyche, not me. 

            So I've done  lot of old-timey fantasy up until this point and I think I might do some cyberpunk tomorrow(or later today if I get inspired, or I might even let you in on another sneak peek of my novel WE SHALL SEE)
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