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Topic: And with strange aeons... |
Title: Fixer
Posts: 118
Joined: 10 Dec 2006
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Date Posted: Sat Feb 09, 2008 11:59 pm
Subject: And with strange aeons...
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All he knew was that he was falling. He couldn't see anything around, but he could feel a warm wind rushing by his face, becoming more and more intense as his eyes were finally attacked by an explosion of colour, swirling about him, ever-changing with fractal complexity. As he fell, he could focus on a few of the lights, and he realized.. these were his memories, floating about him in a chaotic haze, somehow all turned at him, against him, every single gesture somehow accusing him.
He fell for who-knows how long, his entire body stretching with the stress, feeling himself being drained of all emotion, of all conscious thought until a single one sliced through the mesmerizing jumble of assaulting memories; I am dead. I am dead, and now... now.. what now?
The images around him slowly faded, a cacophony of noise now coming down around him, forcing him to his knees.. How can I kneel if I'm dead? I'm just a spirit now, aren't I?... and.. if I'm finally past all of it, that means I can finally see.. Uwaissan..
The sounds rolled into one, slowly coming together into a singular, ear-shattering whine, until that also finally relented. As he lifted his head once more, wondering how he could even still have a 'body' as a spirit, before something flickered in front of him, catching his attention. A strange 'curtain' of reddish light shimmered in the air before him, fluttering on an unseen wind before quickly fading away, revealing a single figure.
Black-haired, petite of frame but beautiful of face, holding a toddler in her arms... Uraka was exactly as he remembered her, before she was lost to him that night.. before he left everything behind, thinking he had lost it all. She was looking at him now, not with sympathy and love as she always had, but with a pitying, ashamed look of scorn in her eyes. She looked at him, and before he could lift a hand, before he could speak a word, she turned her back on him.
She.. turned away from him. She had never done so before, she always came to him, trying to understand him, trying to give him a measure of comfort. But now, seeing this, he knew that he'd gone too far.. he could argue with himself, tell himself that all he had wanted to do was find a way to bring her back, no matter what it took. He could argue for eons about how he had wanted to coax the Old Ones to grant him that, to give her life again, so that he could have the one woman he had truly loved back... but he knew that, in the end, he would only be trying to convince himself. He had gone too far, and now, even in death, he couldn't be with her. The solace he had sought for so long was denied to him by his own selfish actions.
The scene before him seemed to tear itself apart, the landscape becoming a wriggling mass of blackish flesh, everything but a small radius around him turning to show a land of unspeakable ugliness, of nightmarish visions. An entire, living plane.. something he knew he recognized, somehow.. something he could name, but didn't dare whisper the mortal label that he could give it. He knew that he was with his 'patron', now, the entity that tried to live through it.
It rose up around Uraka Uwaissan, the woman he still loved though he could feel nothing but a void, something he could only recall with effort.. and he watched as it tore her spirit apart. He could only look on with abject terror, trying to reach out to her though he couldn't even lift a hand towards her. He felt, more than heard, her scream.. he could hear nothing other than his daughter's wail, mixed in with her cries. He watched as another, third spirit came running towards them, clawing his way to them with no regard to his self.. Shin, his son, killed by the Giant Urthor. Shin, who was inevitably torn to nothingness by Sczrztrchazm, the Horror, the Great One, the Ancient Malice. He watched as what remained of his family, the last thing he could hold onto, be torn apart.
He couldn't cry, he couldn't speak, all he could do was watch, transfixed by the event, the last spark of life floating out of him. He knew, then, that he was alone - not as he was in life, simply cast out as a pariah.. but alone. Nothing behind him, and nothing ahead. Even if the entity took him, now, he knew that it was pointless - he was broken, letting go of his remnants of feeling. It was then, at that moment, that he felt it's presence once more.. it's pollution edging into his conscience, speaking to him directly, clawing through his thoughts.
You have failed. You have completely, and utterly, failed. You see, now, what happens when you go outside of the bounds that were set for mortals. You see the folly of your actions. You know now what it means to go against us, to attempt to deceive us for gain. You know what it means to fall. You know what it means to be alone. And now, forever, you will be.
The words made little sense to him until he put them together. He simply opened his mind to the possibilities, and realized that it would not destroy him as it had his family. It would leave him, there, drowning in his memories, living his life over and over, until it came to a crashing end, every time.
Look upon your failures, Kyzrath Noshliim.. look and see every time those around you turned from you. Look and see how, no matter how you justified yourself, you were failing yourself and those around you by being nothing but a mindless engine of treachery and destruction. Look.. and see your own doom, brought down by your own hands.
If the Oni could have cried, he would have... but all he could feel was an overpowering sense of shame. Shame for his deeds. Shame for what he could have done, but chose not to. Shame for his own weakness. Shame for failing the only one who had never judged him.
Shame for the life he had chosen to live, instead of letting himself lapse into the quiet haze of death.
But this.. is not how we sentence you. You will live, O Aleksei the Traitor. You will watch as your world decays, as your world dies around you. As everybody who you have ever looked upon withers and dies, their backs turned to you, you will live on. No matter how wounded, you will live on. No matter how reviled, how despised, how they will cast you out.. you will live on. And finally, when we come to your world again, when we come and consume the life on that plane.. then.. you will know a fraction of peace. For you will live on... with us.
Aleksei Toji, born Noshliim... known as Kyzrath, the Reaper, the Red Wrath... would live on. Perhaps. Or perhaps, as always, the entity lied. He cared not which... he knew, now, that he was damned.
-----signature-----
Every man dies. Not every man truly lives.
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Title: Fixer
Posts: 118
Joined: 10 Dec 2006
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Date Posted: Sun Feb 10, 2008 12:03 am
Subject:
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Yes, I know that many of you will say, "Oh lord, not another one to return from the dead", except.. uh.. I got nothin' other than 'You really thought he was finally going to stay down?'
-----signature-----
Every man dies. Not every man truly lives.
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Title: Fixer
Posts: 209
Joined: 04 Dec 2006
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Date Posted: Sun Feb 10, 2008 1:00 am
Subject:
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No. I told everybody that it'd be less than a week before you were back, and that you were just trying to tie Ryan's record.
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Title: Neophyte
Posts: 7
Joined: 07 Jan 2008
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Date Posted: Mon Feb 11, 2008 8:58 pm
Subject:
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Haha, not even death wants Kyzrath!
You must feel majorly rejected, man... Next time, bring some flowers or something, then Death might be like: Oh, hey Kyzrath, how's it going? What? For me? Awww, you shouldn't have! Yes, you can go to heaven/hell and finally rest.
Then again, Death would probably just take the flowers and poke you in the eye or something... Death's a jerk like that.
A certain decker is going to be confused to sin as to why you're alive, but he'll adjust, I'm sure. =P
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