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tampered2007-04-06 01:51 am
apostleofhope.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-04-06 01:51 am
Log; Ongoing
When; April 6th, before dawn.
Rating; R
Characters; Joshua Christopher [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
apostleofhope] & Pyramid Head [redhorror].
Summary; Afflicted with the ghost curse, and still lacking one horn, Joshua's guilt is driving himsane crazy, and he picks a bad night to go off and deal by himself.
Log;
It was hard to see anything anymore through his tears. At first he thought Fiore could make it go away, but nobody could! It was his own fault; his own sin.
It had rained at some point in the night, and he didn't even know what time it was anymore. Dawn was surely around the corner, but the sun couldn't come up quickly enough for him. He needed the sun, and the warmth, in the hopes that it would scare away these visions.
Billy, Billy... He had to be a vision. He couldn't actually be here. Joshua had frozen him. He could recall it, as a fragmented memory that hurt his ears and keep him from sleeping, just like the rest of them.
That's so mean, Billy...
Having run off as soon as it had woken him up in bed, it had been a good fifteen minutes of solid running now, and the teenager hadn't a clue where he was anymore, and his heart was clenching with that familiar pain that had bothered him as a child. Sick... Weak...
Dropping down onto his knees, the pajama pants soaked through from landing in a puddle, and he clutched at his chest while trying to breathe properly. He just wouldn't look up... If he did, Joshua would see him again! No matter how far he had run, he would always follow, wouldn't he?!
Rating; R
Characters; Joshua Christopher [
apostleofhope] & Pyramid Head [redhorror].Summary; Afflicted with the ghost curse, and still lacking one horn, Joshua's guilt is driving him
Log;
It was hard to see anything anymore through his tears. At first he thought Fiore could make it go away, but nobody could! It was his own fault; his own sin.
It had rained at some point in the night, and he didn't even know what time it was anymore. Dawn was surely around the corner, but the sun couldn't come up quickly enough for him. He needed the sun, and the warmth, in the hopes that it would scare away these visions.
Billy, Billy... He had to be a vision. He couldn't actually be here. Joshua had frozen him. He could recall it, as a fragmented memory that hurt his ears and keep him from sleeping, just like the rest of them.
That's so mean, Billy...
Having run off as soon as it had woken him up in bed, it had been a good fifteen minutes of solid running now, and the teenager hadn't a clue where he was anymore, and his heart was clenching with that familiar pain that had bothered him as a child. Sick... Weak...
Dropping down onto his knees, the pajama pants soaked through from landing in a puddle, and he clutched at his chest while trying to breathe properly. He just wouldn't look up... If he did, Joshua would see him again! No matter how far he had run, he would always follow, wouldn't he?!
no subject
The occasional streetlight began, one by one, to become choked off with a crawling, consuming darkness.
The darkness spread, and deepened until nothing beyond the pool of light caste by a single street light 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, the massive metal helm turned toward Joshua.
The reddish tint to it's metal shone as though the monster had been waiting for Joshua. Still and patient through the rain.
Following the call and response of the condemned.
Murderer
Rapist
Guilty
no subject
When his gaze did finally locate something to focus on, he felt himself become short of breath again. A creature of the City? Could he fight it? He knew his other self might... That...demon... A monster could fight a monster.
"No!" the boy cried out, his voice cracking as he scrambled up onto his feet to back away. He wasn't a monster!
"I didn't mean to do any of those things! I don't-- It wasn't me!" He shouldn't have run so far away. Fiore and Rosiel... They were back at the cathedral, probably asleep, and he wanted to run, but the fear tasted like vile in his mouth and he was too scared to turn his back.
no subject
*Thump...griiiiiiind* As the blade threw sparks on the concrete.
*Thump..griiiiiiind* His grey-skinned, gnarled right hand extended to point at the condemned.
He does not speak, for he has forgotten how, but that pointing hand says enough.
It tells of the secrets that the condemned, the killer holds, and the foreboding promise to make good on those pleas for redemption.
From the crawling, decaying darkness that spreads from rusting manhole covers, large pustules begin to form...to swell.....
...Then burst open into flooding swarms of roach-like creatures that skitter in one massive swarm about the Executioner's feet.
Like a living wave the massive insects begin to skuttle toward the condemned
The Jackal
The rust-red helmet of the Executioner begins to drip a viscous crimson fluid from it's sharpened corners, a splattering mess that paints the living swarm of insects around it.
Tears for the dead
The pointing hand never wavers, but speaks instead of the dark pains the condemned sees behind his eyes.
Words without speech...
It is your turn now.
no subject
Immediately, the boy spun around to run off, bare foot splashing in a puddle as he desperately sought out somewhere safe to hide. He couldn't go to the Opera House...not to his sister. Wouldn't Rosiel and Fiore be strong enough to stop it? They were strong. But the cathedral was so far away...!
Wait, he could fly!
With his jumbled memories, it was hard to remember how, but after a moment, the glimmering wings appeared, spanning out as he ran and attempted to flap them to get up in the air.
no subject
Slowly, patiently, the monster raised the Great Blade; one hand around the hilt, and once the blade was at shoulder level, the other under the blade itself.
Thick, chunky blood dripped further from his hand where the weight of the blade, yet the Executioner took no note.
A metallic roar of nerve-splicing memory from the dripping, crimson helm, and the Red Guard threw the nine foot column of steel in one mighty caste toward the condemned in order to pierce that shining wing, and bring the Jackal back to face his reckoning.
no subject
But Joshua didn't have long to wonder over that, for he had barely lifted off of the ground before he heard a sound, the super senses offered to him from that horn still hidden allowing him to hear that woosh of blade cutting air...but he couldn't recognize it.
He had just enough time to turn and look before the blade pierced a wing, the sheer force of it slicing through and sending him flying backwards to crash right into the side of a warehouse. The wood cracked from the weight, sending him sprawling backwards to land on the cement with a scream as he flailed and strained to get away.
It was too big, too heavy, and it hurt. "No! Fiore! Rosiel! Rosette!" He could still see Billy there, standing there and just staring. Was this Billy punishing him?
no subject
Trust
Friendship
The corruption of innocents
You even raped your own sister!
The cracks bled images. A lifetime, or a moment, there was no difference anymore.
Not down here.
Down in the darkness.
Down in the decay of sin.
The Red Guard advanced, his halting gait changed to a steady one without the blade to encumber him. Once close to the fallen Jackal, the massive, dripping helm looked down on Joshua, and then he raised one massive, booted foot and with the ease afforded to such distended musculature, and brought it down on Joshua's chest, pinning him.
You destroyed those who loved you!
You Tainted that which was beautiful, and pure!
Traitor
Rapist
Murderer...
The seven foot abberation reached over to grasp the hilt of the blade, where it had pinned the Jackal to the earth, and after wrapping both hands around it, pulled with straining muscles until the blade cleaved concrete and wing joint alike....
...Pulling, and cutting until it severed the maimed wing completely.
no subject
My own sister?
"No! No no no!" he yelled, tears springing forth, and his nails scraped against the sword as he tried to free himself. He couldn't remember that! Had he really?
The sudden imagery made him feel sick, and if he had trouble breathing before, the foot flattening him back to the floor was practically suffocating him. But nothing could have prepared him for the pain that followed.
Joshua's scream echoed off the warehouse walls as the blade cut deeper, and he looked in terror to watch that wing lay uselessly on the ground for a moment before shimmering and vanishing. He had cut right into it...! How was that even possible?! It wasn't supposed to be that tangible! It felt as if that blade had sliced directly into his brain, and the other wing shimmered and vanished to avoid getting severed as well.
"Stop it, please! I didn't mean to..." He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, and the more he sobbed, the harder it was to see. "I would never do those things! It wasn't me!"
no subject
The cracks in Joshua's mind widened, and the shrieking voices, the torrent of memories spilled forth.
Burning, ravaging invasion of his memory, as the Red Guard reached down inside his past and pulled out the unremembered guilt.
The Executioner's free hand extended out beside him as Joshua 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 over the condemned's face.
The tendrils squealed; a sound like the shriek of tightened cable emitted from them as they snaked over his arm, and reached to coil themselves around the condemned's neck, crept along his chest, and down his arms to wrap around his wrists.
Suddenly, with a sharp jerk, the wires snapped the condemed's wrists wide to hold him nearly spread-eagled.
The Executioner's hand fell away as more wire burst from his other arm to wrap around Joshua's ankles.
FEEL your sin!
The cracks in his mind spilled forth a fire hot enough to consume his denial. To make him see the flames of guilt he burned in.
no subject
A monster!
The memories were clearer now. He could remember Rosette's face as she cried and tried to stop his hands. Fiore as she bled and died in his arms. Tot's eyes as he crushed her chest and heart.
Joshua's entire body spasmed as his lungs tried to take in the rust flavored air, and he could only watch in horror as the wire encircled him, the barbs digging into his skin through the thin fabric of his night wear. His throat, his arms, his stomach, his legs.
Gagging on the oxygen that just would not come, he resisted the urge to struggle, knowing that would make it worse. It hurt so much... His mind, his heart, his body. He just wanted to go to sleep, but he knew he didn't deserve that peace.
Sin. Judgment. It had all been his fault. He had been the one to accept those horns in the first place.
Joshua couldn't have screamed anymore if he had wanted to. All that he had left were weak gasps as he tried not to cry and whimper and beg for mercy that he knew he didn't deserve.
Finally, though, it all just became too much, and the lack of air combined with terror finally caused the boy to pass out.
no subject
Done with cruelty, there was no need now, The Executioner removed the Great Blade from the concrete.
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 dark decay reversed itself, and receded as the Red Gaurd's footsteps did.
Darkness fading back into the night.
JUDGMENT ALWAYS FINDS YOU