| Eli_Sweeney | Date: Friday, 2011/08/12, 2:08 PM | Message # 1 |
 Super Cena!!!!
Group: Staff
Messages: 61
Status: Offline
| The smell of dust and decay is always unpleasant on ones senses. Some don’t mind it as much as others while a very few actually like the scent. This is the case with the one man that stands looking at an old coffin that if nothing else gives him the smell he loves so much. But this isn’t a normal old coffin, for it doesn’t hold the remains of someone long ago placed inside and forgotten, it holds one more thing.
The large hands reached inside and lifted an old book, pages written on parchment that resembled the skin, and laid it on a small stand that was placed beside the coffin. Slowly opening it as if it were a valued and irreplaceable object of history, the owner of the hands slowly read the page.
“In the flames of destruction lies the heart of man. The blood is flames and the heat is life. To return the flames to nothingness, a single man must step forward and spread the dirt of the end.”
The voice raspy like the feel of sandpaper to the skin, if fell silent. The book slowly closed and replaced in the coffin and the lid slid back in place. The silence deafening to hear.
Slowly the sounds of movement can be heard. A scuffle of feet, the movement of cloth and finally the flicker of a candle from a web covered corner of the small crypt. The flames licking at the trailing edges of said webs and causing tiny embers to flare up and then out.
A hooded figure slowly turns and two leather covered hands slowly draw back the hood to reveal a man many have seen before. But not like he is now, not for a long time.
His hair hanging down around his face, his eyes cold and empty, his mouth set like it was stone and the slight move of his nose as he drew in the musty smell mixed with the occasional odor of decay. His name was not needed to be said aloud. If one wasn’t familiar with him, they would soon be.
He exhaled with a hiss that would match his eyes most of the time, for had one bothered to look closely, they were slated as if he were part snake or a predatory animal. And to many that had faced him, it would be a combination of both.
“Many is the time that I had sworn that the darkness would never claim me as its own again. Yet here I am once more drawn into the embrace. Many are the time I swore to the evil of the demons that I would not do its bidding again. Yet her I am about to do that very thing.”
Slowly he slid a hand inside the inky black robe and pulled a small pouch out. With practiced moves, he untied it and began to spread it on the floor around him in a circle. His moves so fluid that it was hard to believe a large man as he could do them. With the pouch empty, he let it fall to the ground.
“Those around me have asked ‘Why?’. Why would I want to do this? Why would I allow myself to regress to a time when things were uncertain? Why do I seem to be the one the darkness wants so damned bad? Then I look at them and speak the truest words they will ever hear.”
He reached for the candle and had taken small match out of his robe, touching it to the candle, he threw the candle across the crypt and stood as if in a trance watching the flame of the match dance before him.
“I am not afraid of the darkness. The darkness is afraid of me. It wants me as an ally, not an enemy. For no one wants me for an enemy.”
Opening his fingers, he let the match fall. With a hiss and the a small sound of fire exploding, the room erupted into a flash of smoke rising around him followed by a larger flash of light as the circle was complete. The smoke clearing and the room empty.
[b] Some time later
The wind blew the leaves of the tree casually. Slight sounds of insects seemed to lull the normal person to a sense of ease. The shadows wrapping around the land and enveloping anyone not in the small light cast by the standing pole near a bench. Indeed, it was the perfect setting of someone looking to spend time alone with their special other.
A slender man with a wife beater, tight jeans and biker boots walked with a slightly fuller figured woman. She was dressed modestly in a full skirt that went below her knees, the panty hose skin toned and ending in her flat heeled shoes. Her upper half covered in a blouse that buttoned up the front and didn’t show anything below the hollow of her neck.
Indeed, he wanted to see more and she didn’t want to let him. Still as is the case with most men, they believe they can talk a woman into doing what they want no matter the situation. And he too was plying her with compliments and sweet things that would facilitate that end.
“Seriously, you never considered being a model? You are so pretty and your body is made to be looked at. I mean if you were so inclined to do that. You just don’t realize how special you are.”
She smiled happily and turned and sat on the bench, the desperately lame man sat beside her. Turning so he could show her he was giving her his full attention.
“I don’t want you to think that I am trying to be rude, but I am amazed by you. The way you move so easily, the way your body begs to be admired and your eyes. They are so inviting. The kind of eyes that make a man just stare and drool.”
She smiled and shook her head slowly.
And tell me, does this little speech of yours cause many women to want to strip and do terribly wrong things with you?”
He looked surprised and shocked she would say that.
“I promise I don’t do such things. But I will confess, this outfit I am wearing isn’t me. I let my friends talk me into dressing like this. Normally I wear suits and they thought if I used this style it would help me meet a lady. I’m sorry if you don’t like me like this, but I was honest with you about what I said. I think your wonderful and understand that you don’t like what you see.”
She started to reply. But didn’t. A hand came from out of the darkness and grabbed her hair that had been so neatly rolled and bunted in the back. Yanking back hard the hand caused her to let a small groan of pain to escape her throat. Another hand reached around and cupper her chin to hold her head still as a face with eyes so cold and slatted to look down into hers.
The man with her started to get up and was met with a hard punch to his chest. Making him slump back on the bench and to look up and see a similar dressed man standing before him.
“Yessssss. Tell him you aren’t what you seem either. Tell him how under those teacher clothes you are dressed like the town whore. Tell him you aren’t as pure as he thinks you are.”
The man tried to move and was met with a foot against his chest. The pressure pinning him to the bench. Both victims looking scared and uncertain of what is about to happen.
“You think you can hide what you are so easily. You think that merely changing the clothes will change the woman under them. You think and that is your downfall. No one cares what you think. NO one cares anything about you beyond what you can do for them at that moment in time.”
Slowly the second man who anyone with half a wit would know by now, lets the man up and then quickly grabs him. Slamming him hard into the light pole and watching him crumple to the ground. Leaning over him, the wallet he had in his back pocket is pulled out and opened. The id naming him Roger.
The woman was not so lucky, she was pulled to her feet over the back of the bench and slowly taken into the darkness kicking and scratching.
“Well Rog, here is how this works. We have your wallet. You want it and the girl all you have to do is come get them. If you don’t, then we finish with the girl and then we come pay you a visit and take care of you too. Save the girl or be taken to the hospital, your call.”
Kicking him once in the gut, he walked off the way his brother had gone. The sounds of the night all that is heard as the man slowly gets to his feet and tries to decide if she was really worth it.
Slowly he stood and staggered towards the way they had gone.
The woman had stopped struggling and was walking with the guide of a hand on the back of her neck. She was whimpering softly as she did. Guiding her to the clearing, she was amazed to find many more people there. Her eyes widening as she looked at the robes they wore and even more so at the altar that was placed in the middle of the clearing. Slowly she walked towards it and stopped by the hand on her neck. Slowly she was made to turn and two figures stepped forward from the followers and began to strip her. She was not as said, she wore modest underwear, her body even bare of outer clothes was not clear to be ogled. She had resigned herself to her fate as the leader and the one known as Jakob stepped forward. He reached up with both hands and held her face in them, tilting it up to look him in the eyes. He locked eyes with her and slowly she leaned back and onto the altar, the two that had disrobed her began tying her hands to the upper corners, then pulled her totally on top of it and tied her legs. She was helpless. The others circled the altar and Jakob watched with set face as she was slowly stripped naked to the world. She closed her eyes and seemed to almost be smiling as one by one the others withdrew a small ship and began to whip her entire body, still she didn’t scream and writhed in some kind of perverse pleasure.
Out of the trees the man she was with came rushing up, trying to get to her only to be held at bay easily.
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS!!!”
No one said a word as two came free and grabbed him by the arms and held him steadfast and impotent.
“It is not what you think that matters. It is what happens. She gave herself to us when she willingly lay on the altar, she doesn’t belong to you or anyone other than the Mistress that is the darkness. Tonight she is reborn and will serve gladly any whim. Like so many things in this world, she does not understand yet she will do as must be done to survive. (pointing to the others) We are all the same. Living is not the key to our being, survival is. And in that way we live forever. Can you not see that? Your name is Dyson is it not? Never mind what your name is, when you leave us tonight take with you this thought. Be it here, be it later, be it in a fight, Dyson you are outmatched simply because you seek to win or live for another day. I fight to survive. Therein lays your downfall. Take the lesson and think on it as you heal from your wounds.”
He didn’t say another word as the followers parted and the woman lay bleeding from small cuts and seemed to be in full orgasmic throws. Stepping towards her, he began to caress her legs and tasted her blood on his hands as the circle closed and left the lonely hopeless man to watch. The night claimed another and there was no one to stop it.
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