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tampered2007-04-04 09:20 pm
henkonasuisho.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-04-04 09:20 pm
Log; Complete
When; April 6th, sunrise
Rating;R for violence and torture (minor)
Characters; Zaheela [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
henkonasuisho], Pyramid head [redhorror]
Summary; She thought she had nothing to feel guilt over... She was wrong, and it was time for the 12 damned to gather. She was a guest of 'honor', she didn't know it QUITE yet.
Log;
The sunrise was bright red, turning the ground and city a strangely foreboding red. Down the steps of the library Zaheela went, book bag tapping against her hip with each movement. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she paused, a weary expression on her face. Her night had been less then appealing, her day filled with annoyances, and something in the back of her mind was ill at ease. It had tickled the back of her mind the whole day, but she ignored it.
Her hand moved down to where her sword should of been, but she had been trying not to be so wary of the city. It lay on her dresser, most likely shining in the sunlight, ready to be used. Her eyes caught the movement of the clouds above, and she looked upwards to watch the dragon shaped thing pass by. Memories tickled her mind, and she stood there, as if waiting. For what? She had no idea, she just watched as the clouds passed by on a crimson palette.
Rating;R for violence and torture (minor)
Characters; Zaheela [
henkonasuisho], Pyramid head [redhorror]Summary; She thought she had nothing to feel guilt over... She was wrong, and it was time for the 12 damned to gather. She was a guest of 'honor', she didn't know it QUITE yet.
Log;
The sunrise was bright red, turning the ground and city a strangely foreboding red. Down the steps of the library Zaheela went, book bag tapping against her hip with each movement. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she paused, a weary expression on her face. Her night had been less then appealing, her day filled with annoyances, and something in the back of her mind was ill at ease. It had tickled the back of her mind the whole day, but she ignored it.
Her hand moved down to where her sword should of been, but she had been trying not to be so wary of the city. It lay on her dresser, most likely shining in the sunlight, ready to be used. Her eyes caught the movement of the clouds above, and she looked upwards to watch the dragon shaped thing pass by. Memories tickled her mind, and she stood there, as if waiting. For what? She had no idea, she just watched as the clouds passed by on a crimson palette.
no subject
The occasional streetlight began, one by one, to become choked off with a crawling, consuming darkness.
Crawling corruption seeped like reddish black rot from a manhole cover mere yards away from Zaheela.
As it crawled parts of the street degraded and crumbled into a glowing maw of burning light.
Hellfire opening before her very feet.
The darkness spread, and deepened until nothing beyond the pool of light caste by a lone streetlight became the only perceivable amount of space within the darkened city streets.
At the very edges of this caste light the darkness moved; shifted, melted, stretched and ran.
The writhing mass then coalesced into a form.
The monster jerked, and twitched, but seemed otherwise unphased as it raised itself to it's feet. Turning back, it drew forth it's nine-foot steel blade from the darkness beyond.
The blade hit the concrete with a reverberating, mettalic thud, and the Executioner set off, the tell-tale scream and grind of his slow gait heralding his arrival; Relentless, remorseless.
The Red Pyramid, Right Hand, Great Blade.
He lived in it, moved through it, was a part of it.
.....And through the darkness, he could hear a smell. See a sound.
The call and response of the condemned.
Soul for the fire.
Burn it hotter and higher
Bring them all down to dance for the damned
One gnarled hand rose, and pointed at the condemned on the steps.
GUILTY!
no subject
When the hellfire spurted upwards, she took a quick jump back, her eyes on the fire before her for a moment instead of the creature. When the scrape of metal on stone agitated her ears, they flattened and she cursed her foolishness. She should of brought her sword with her. The hand was pointed at her and she raised an eyebrow and then stumbled backwards as the first memory assaulted her.
"If you love me, you won't tell anyone. Just turn around, and go home." A calm voice whispered to her. A hand brushed against the side of her face, almost lovingly, and she faltered. The books in her arms were heavy, but she didn't remember any of the titles. All she knew was that she was crying.
It was like a flash, but it still shook her. She hadn't thought of... that for the longest time.
"Who... are you?" She hissed, eyes focused on the creature, burning with pride and internal agony.
no subject
Like razor edged fluid it burrowed between each thought, each memory, each nerve synapse; screaming a gibbering response in a voice that was many.
I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN
I WILL ALWAYS BE
I AM THE DARKNESS AT THE EDGE OF NIGHT
The halting footsteps never faltered as the Red Guard advanced; each footfall the reverberating beat of a heart. Each shriek of th Great Blade dragging against concrete a slicing invasion to the mind.
I AM THE EXECUTIONER
THE RED GUARD
I AM THE END
no subject
A laugh as she walked along the railing, arms outstretched. A gust of wind suddenly caused her to lose her balance and she fell downwards, screaming as only a fourteen year old girl could. Instead of hard rock, arm arms caught her. Peeking one eye open, she found herself lost in blue eyes.
"You ok?" She had fallen into the arms of her first love.
"Get out of my head!" Zaheela demanded, eyes still burning with pride. She took in a deep breath and tried to calm herself. What she was remembering was in the past, it was something done and forgotten. It couldn't harm her.
It had eaten away at her for so long
She frowned as she followed that damned brown ponytail into the stone hallways. Hand darted out to grab at his shoulder, but she only managed to catch the end of his shirt.
"Dimitri, just what in Altana's good grace are you thinking? You'll kill yourself if you don't get any sun!" She demanded, voice full of ill hidden worry. The human in front of her only gave a carefree smirk.
"This saying from my little bookworm?" He joked, hand patting her shoulder. "Nothing is going to kill me, not even you and your books."
She didn't fall for him! She didn't!
no subject
Your weakness led to the death of your master...
Even now you deny your GUILT!
The chattering, gibbering voices from within the helmet shrieked the truth; each voice a condemnation that the condemned did not want to hear.
You will hear them now.
You can not run from your reckoning!
no subject
Lifted bodily off the ground, her hands immediately wrapped around the wrist, the mere touch making her skin crawl. She tugged at it, placing one foot against the metal helmet. The voices still hurt, but something drove her still; Anger.
"Let... Me... GO!" She pushed against the hand. "He was not my master, lover, ANYTHING!" Zaheela squirmed and fought, she wasn't going down without a fight. Her pride would of never allowed that.
A old hand stroked her hair as she sulked. Her father chuckled as he let her sulk over her own conflicted feelings.
"My little scholar, you are in head-over-heels-in-love." He said, letting his book snap shut.
"I'm not in love father! He's my best friend who is acting like an idiot! I have every right to be concerned!" She argued. All her father did was laugh.
"He was a traitor, an assassin! I have NOTHING to run from!" She snarled, struggling, but the hand was strong, stronger then any beastman, human, or even dragon's jaws around her neck. Her head was pounding with the screams of all those voices, and she kept on struggling.
She had NOTHING to regret, nothing to feel guilt about.
no subject
LIAR!
You can not deny your RECKONING
The hand squeezed around her throat, and he let his arm drop to drag the condemned behind him.
Two lumbering steps, and the library's sheer wall was looming before them; the decaying darkness spread from his shadow and skittered up the wall.
See your sin!
A thousand voices, a thousand tongues screaming her guilt through her mind. A thousand voices widening the cracks in her memory to spill them forth, and force her to see
A lifetime, or a moment, there was no difference anymore.
Before the wall now, and the Executioner leaned the great blade against the wall carefully, almost tenderly...
....And with a burst of speed, and strength, slammed the condemned against the concrete.
no subject
"You're going to change loyalties? Are you insane?!? That means we'll have to meet in battle!" She snarled, one hand clutching the soft material of his shirt. His eyes were weary and guarded, but the smile was still the same. A hand gathered strands of hair in between his fingers, and lips kissed the tips.
"I know, you-who-are-my-moon... But, it is something I believe in. Come with me?" Was his only response. She froze... and backed away, before turning and running. When she came to her senses, he was gone.
She gasped as her back impacted the stone surface. Her tail, so unique, had been slammed as well, pinned between her own body and the wall, and she could hear the CRACK of bones fracturing. The pain was so intimate, so THERE, she couldn't help but scream. It echoed through the darkness and tears gathered around the corners of her eyes, but she didn't relent. Her eyes burned, she would not give into the memories.
no subject
The cracks in her mind widened, and the shrieking voices, the torrent of memories spilled forth.
Burning, ravaging invasion of her memory, as the Red Guard reached down inside her past and pulled out the unremembered guilt.
The Executioner's free hand extended out beside him as she screamed in pain.
The gray gnarled hand opened, palm down over the rotting darkness
...And the darkness responded.
Tendrils, like living extensions of the Executioner himself broke through the flesh of his arm to the accompaniment of a spray of rusted blood.
The tendrils sprouted extensions; tiny mental barbs bloomed like macabre flowers along the wiry tendrils.
Almost lovingly, the Executioner brought the hand with snaking tendrils of barb wire crawling along it to the condemned's face, and almost tenderly drew his cold, knotted fingers across her face...
The tendrils squealed; a sound like the shriek of tightened canle emitted from them as they snaked over his arm, and reached to coil themselves around the condemned's neck, crept along her chest, and down her arms to wrap around her wrist.
Suddenly, with a sharp jerk, the wires jerked the condemed's wrists wide to hold her nearly spread-eagled.
The Executioner's hand fell away as more wire burst from his other arm to wrap around her ankles.
FEEL your sin!
The cracks in her mind spilled forth a fire hot enough to consume her denial. To make her see the flames of guilt she burned in.
no subject
...No...
"My dear scholar, stop your tears. You were not meant to love. I, as your guardian, wished otherwise, for so many years, for you to find love. But you are not meant to love." Her father's warm tone couldn't melt the chill of the truth.
Anger, hate, rage, her blade was drawn and barely an inch away from her teaser's nose.
"Whine and yap any more, you air-headed doll, and I will move my blade closer. I did not love him, he did not love me, we did not do what you are suggesting."
NO!!!!!!
In all honesty, she most likely was unfit to enter such a battle, so raw from the emotional shock of... killing a close friend, but she had willingly accepted the mission with the small group. She snarled as she shoved the blade deep into the Orc's body, body moving gracefully to pull it out and embed itself into the now dead corpse's brother. Enemy after enemy fell, all in the name of her kingdom, but she didn't stop there. She charged past the bodies and into the tribal area. The Orcs cried out, unprepared warriors quickly being dispatched, women slain. The Children cried, but she passed them by. Even in her mental agony and bloodlust, she would not harm them. Her blade danced...
And through it all, covered in blood, she was Smiling.
She wanted to retch, to scream, but all that came out was a almost noiseless shierk; She had screamed so loudly that her own vocal cords couldn't produce the sound. Metal dug into her body, using her own body's regeneration against it. She could feel the fire burn her, the licking flames of agony, and her eyes betrayed her. Painpainpain! Make it stop! She continued to scream, tied down with the barbed wire. The points dug into her flesh, meager cloth offering no protection, and blood bloomed from the wounds. Her body was confused, and it focused on restoring the most obvious wounds, the loss of blood.
Strong... she wanted to be stronger then she was before. She placed a hand on the plain grave, before turning. She would become stronger then him. She wouldn't fall for such a thing anymore.
"...I...I..." She whimpered, head hanging now. The memories, her guilt, they all hurt her. The most hated things, tears, rolled down her face. She stopped fighting. She quieted, her eyes shut and her tears dripping off her face. She had worked so hard, so hard to be strong. But now... she was lost.
"I love you." She had whispered on the night of her 17th birthday. Dimitri's expression was shocked at first, but grew into a weird smile. He tugged her forward, holding her close. If only she knew that 'weird smile' was a smirk then.
no subject
The condemned was finally quiet.
Finally accepting of his judgment.
...And so, the Executioner went straight back to business.
Calm, and clinical. Done with cruelty for there was no longer need.
The condemned wept for pain. For loss, and in repentance.
The Executioner seemed to nod the great razor-edged helmet once, as if to say; Now, you understand.
The wires moved like a nest of living things; squealing and writhing about the condemned to bind her tight.
The Executioner shushed them, and lowered his arms to grasp the wires tightly. More chunky blood fell from his damaged hands, but still the Red Guard pulled her Zaheela down from the wall, and twined the snaking wires into one large cable, then hefted his burden over his shoulder.
Bleeding, and weak, it was no trouble to gather his burden, and his weapon up, one over his left shoulder, and the other dragging behind with the halting grinding noise the Executioner was accustomed to.
The darkness receded as the Red Gaurd's footsteps did.
Darkness fading back into the night.
JUDGMENT ALWAYS FINDS YOU