Friday, June 28, 2013

Musical Inspirations: Run

Sorry, the only version I could find of this song on YouTube was a live version, kinda annoying. It's here on amazon, and Spotify has it as well if you have an account. It's the re-edit by Guido Le Frick. ANyway, enjoy:

 He nervously rubbed his knuckles clenched tightly at the base of a tumbler.  He was staring vacantly into the reservoir of glowing red liquid, his mind moving a million thoughts per second.
He had only just gotten comfortable going out alone, but only because his mind had driven him out. Though he knew Sentinel’s lair was a sanctuary, the reinforced steel walls and armed security kept plaguing his mind, a reminder of the prison he had left only a short while ago.
Sentinel had shown him a kind face as he took him in, but he was still unsure of the warlord’s true motives. After all, even Fiure had the capability of causing harm, with or against his will.
Tumultuous conflict was eating away at him. He couldn’t stay indoors, in captivity, but he was afraid someone outside was looking for him. He had to persuade himself he was safe outdoors, that there was nothing keeping him inside, but his shaking nerves were left unimpressed.
He managed to find this place, quiet, for the most part, except when the fights break out. The barkeep was understanding, and was good at keeping his nose out of where it wasn’t wanted.
He let his mind wander through the liquid of his glass, watching the tiny distortions in an almost successful attempt to quiet his anxiety.
 “Hey, Spooky!”
He twitched instinctively as a voice cracked through his concentration. He looked up to see the barkeep waving to grab his attention.
 “Yeah you, c’mere.”
Cain remained frozen in his seat, uncertain of the intent of the strange man, waggling a beckoning finger at him.
“Och, you’re a weird one, fine.” The bartender threw the towel he was holding over his shoulder and plopped into the seat next to Cain. The youth stared at him in befuddled agitation.
“Some men have been asking for you, and I have a feeling they don’t want to play nice.” The odd man shifted in his seat, casually glancing behind him.  “Now I like you. You’re quiet, you don’t start shit, and you tip well. So I would like you to come back.”
Cain clenched his jaw, destroying the effects of his lackluster meditation as a rush of dread slapped him across the face. The barkeep folded his hands together, giving Cain a sly, but oddly assuring smile.
“Now I have to tell them that I saw you, but I will also go into slow tedious detail about the possibilities of where you could be going. I, of course, wouldn’t know for sure. And my memory these days seem to falter with each passing minute, so it may take me some time to recollect everything.”
Cain’s red eye twitched once more. He threw back the rest of his drink, anticipating its strange effects on him. The barkeep gave him an odd smirk, questioning the youth’s priorities.
He ignored the judgmental grin of the keep as he observed, sensing several suspicious figures outside the bar. He felt an urge to run as a wave of energy flowed through his limbs. His eyes widened in an obvious panic, and he stood up abruptly, only to be caught on the forearm by the barkeeper’s surprisingly fast hands.
“Take it easy. You gotta go quietly. Out the back there’s roof access, buildings are put nicely together too, should give you an easy route out.” He cleared his throat dismissively.  “….Not that *I* have ever used them before.”
He gave Cain a cheeky grin, but the youth was perplexed by the subtlety of the barkeep’s intended subcontext. The owner shook his head in futility.
“Anyway, after this, you owe me a favor.” He held up his hand in assurance. “But that isn’t as ominous as most of the people around here make it sound. I got some dishes that need washing. Now get the hell out of here.”
The owner released his grasp and slowly walked back to the bar. Cain stared at him for only a fraction of a second, before the severity of the situation returned to him. He steeled himself, steadying every nerve as he attempted to look casual, slipping quietly amid the patrons into the back room.
He found the grey walled stairwell, each step a tooth of a foreboding grin. He could feel the presence of at least ten entities resonating above him, but there were a great many more below, he had no choice but to run towards the open air above for the best chance of evasion. Nausea started to creep up inside of him with every step he ascended; increasing in intensity the further he progressed.
He had little time left; the pursuers were now entering the bar, and would no doubt search the back first. With a forced heave of air, he burst through the door, and his body suddenly seized as he nearly collided into a member bearing the vile uniform of the Chryansa heavy guard.
His limbs frozen, his pupils dilated, the nerves in his hands spasmed chaotically. He stood still in an epic battle against himself, attempting to regain control of his body. The grunts would respond to his sudden appearance, and he needed to be ready.
But a fraction of a second to the intruders was entire minutes to him. From his perception, the guard’s body lagged as it made one step towards him. Alarms fired off inside his brain.
I will NOT return. They will NOT take me back.
A flash of movement no unassisted human could perceive, and he had twisted his body around the invader. He dealt the most subtle, yet precise pressure in strategic joints, rewarding him with several synchronous cracks of bone echoing against the wall, the guard’s shrill screams followed shortly after.
He gave the reinforcements no time to react as he bolted across the roof. But, unfortunately, not all of them were completely human. Metallic clicks behind him, their weapons drawn. He heard a familiar noise erupt through the air, hurdling towards him.
The force of twelve suns throttled him down. He was suddenly encased in eerie, glowing blue plasma, pulling his limbs to the ground, chilling him to his core. It emitted a cloying hum crawling deep in his ears.
No, no, no, no, no. Get up. Get up. I can’t let this happen…the pain...It’s all in my head….
He began to rise himself, gasping heavily as he strained against the semisolid mass. He forced out the agony goring holes into his brain as he pushed out of the ethereal containment.
“You will remain where you are or you will be subject to lethal force.” The armored wraith ordered through a distorted voice.
The force field receded, relinquishing its control over his shaking muscles. He held his hands on his knees as he gathered his strength, glowering at the black specter in front of him, an acidic sensation crawling up his throat. He clenched his shivering fingers in a tight fist.
Fuck you
He ground his heels into the concrete, speeding off to the edge of the building. The leader was just fast enough to fire off his gun, the bullet grazing his arm as he darted past.
He was inebriated with energy as he dove off the edge, catching the outcropping of an environment control vein on the next building with his fingertips. Without a single pause to recoil, he effortlessly vaulted himself up to the rooftop and continued his sprint, blasts of energy and molten metal piercing the air behind him. He found a distorted sense of focus as he ran, ignoring the pain as the soldiers grew more accurate, pieces of molten and metal tore into his flesh with each successful hit. But he would not be stopped. He would not allow himself to be taken again.
The guards gave chase, but he was much too fast for them, the blessing of his curse.  One by one, the grunts stopped their chase as the gaps between buildings widened. The cowards weren’t about to risk their despicable lives to reclaim their property.
Somehow, he unconsciously managed to emit a drunken cackle, catching the air between his teeth as he grinned like a possessed beast, the notion of his escape sinking into his mind. His pursuers dragged further behind him as the jagged path the rooftops traced grew increasingly more treacherous.
His glee was cut short as he heard one of the guards shouting behind him over the gunfire.
“We are losing sight of the subject. Get the air cover in here now!”
A sleek black metal cruiser spawned from the night sky, purple and white lights flashing on the roof. Its engines growled at him as it moved to cut off his path. He pushed himself harder, forcing his limbs to move faster. But his flight was cut short as he was suddenly pummeled into the concrete. He briefly glanced over to his shoulder, noticing his ash grey shirt rapidly turning black; he had lost the feeling in his right arm, projectile damage caused by the vehicle’s quiet primary fire.
No time. Get the fuck up.
He rolled back onto his feet, changing his strategy. He moved erratically, dodging the searchlights piercing the night, never giving the pilot the chance to set a lock on him. He was gaining the advantage again, weaving through the jutting metal forest of the rooftop’s architectural structures. The cruiser turned sharply to avoid colliding with the proximity hazards. Just a little further, and he would lose them for good.
But Fortune was not about to let him go so easily.
Concrete and debris scraped at the bottom of his boots as he stopped suddenly, his body flailing forward as he prevented himself slipping off the roof. A grave miscalculation, he had taken the wrong turn. He stared at the chasm below in horror as he realized the gap to the next building was far too large for him to jump across.
And his troubles were far from over as a second cruiser elevated from the expanse in front of him, its engines growling with a victorious glee.  The cockpit window was raised eye level to him, the pilot’s finger on the control yoke’s trigger.
The vehicle chasing him from behind shortly caught up to the engagement, edging so close to him that he felt the exhaust vents blasting its hot breath on his back. He could feel his strength diminishing; he had taken too much damage. He could feel his vision slowly drifting to the nether realm.
His vision shifted slightly as the cruiser’s searchlights attempted to blind and disorient him. But he glared at the pilot unhindered, making sure he knew the face of the victim he would bring suffering to. He wished he would haunt the man’s dreams, but he knew all too well these creatures could not feel remorse.
The voices clawed at his brain, summoning him into the darkness inside. A thick, ichor slowly filling his lungs, forcing the airways closed.
No. I’ve got to stay awake, I‘ve got to get out of here.
A familiar displacement fogged his perception. The pain was slowly diminishing. He blinked rapidly, focusing his bloodied arms in front of him in a vain attempt to maintain hold of reality. He closed his eyes once more.
His knees crumpled beneath his increasing weight, and he felt gravity overtake him as he slipped over the edge of the parapet.

He felt one final crushing impact launch him aside before the darkness had finally overtaken him.

So it has been FOREVER. I know. I'm sorry, you can beat me later. However, you must admit this piece is pretty least I think so. Cain is one of my first and my favorites, and here you see a little clip of his origins.
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