8 posts tagged “demon”
I've a new story I'm going to post on here in the near future.
WORKING TITLE: Sinners and Saints
RATING: R (for violence, language, cannibalism, and gory stuff.)
MISC. : Will contain but is not limited to the following - MPreg, demonic posession, sadomasochism, very strong language, zombies of a sort, general troublemaking, SEVERE ANGST, and dismemberment. If you can't handle that or don't want to see it, then don't read the story when it's posted. Thank you.
SUMMARY: Alabaster Willem is immortal. His unexpected lover is not. Al had come to terms with Sam's mortality long ago, and in fact was thankful for it. It gave him a reason to keep fighting his darker half. Over the years, Sam has asked time and again to be turned into the same thing as Al. An ageless, immortal non-flesh eating zombie. Time and again he was refused. But when Sam finally makes it a demand and not a question, the immortal Fallen finally gives in. The price? His own tormented soul.
So, it's another Alabaster dribble. But it's a fresh one. That I wrote this morning/afternoon. It still has that new car smell.
Mmmm.... New Car.....
Anyway, they are a bit... sad. meh, more like bittersweet, i think.
They were all inspired by the following images:
Meh. Enjoy. n.n
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"I... I can feel you," he whispered, timidly stroking his jet black cheek. "Everything you felt. The pain... the loss... and the little moments of joy. Hope, faith, doubts... Love. I can feel it all, inside my heart, and burning into my soul."
The demon stared at him. But what Ty saw in his eyes were a mere moment of recognition. He only saw the animal, the beast now unchained, and wholly a creature of instinct.
He felt a pang of loss weaving through the waves of joy. His best friend, the man he loved enough to suffer time and again the pain of death and rebirth, had given his life. No, more than that even. He had sacrificed his very soul for the sake of the human race...
For him.
He felt shame then. Washing over him abruptly. "I'm so sorry..." he said, his voice cracking as his hand slipped away and his head dropped to stare down at the blood drenched clothes that clung to him. Tears, warm and bitter rolled down his cheeks. But he could not will them to stop.
All of the knowledge, wisdom, and power of God at his command. And he could not keep from crying.
There was a slight stinging at his chin, as a razor sharp claw tried gently to urge him to look upwards. Slight pressure. Barely a cut, barely a scratch. It felt more like a papercut. He knew, despite the irritation it caused him when it touched his skin that it was meant to be a kind, careful gesture.
When his head lifted, and his eyes trailed up to meet the green gaze staring back at him in confusion, he noticed a thick, dark liquid forming along the bottom lids, building up at the corners and trickling oh so slowly down the hellfire heated cheeks. Crimson trails with crimson droplets were the only sign of this demon, this monster's sadness.
And then, the monster, despite their shared tears, broke into a smile. And that smile gradually became a smirk as the demon reached up to try and stroke his hair, only to stop before he touched the golden locks and shake his head as if in laughter at his near-mistake.
The soft flicker in the green eyes brought to mind a laugh. Sinister and amused at once. And though the demon did not speak, Tycen realized what the other had already known. That pull of emotion, tugging at his senses and his thoughts was a reminder. The realization that the man who had caused him so much heartache, and had made life worth living every time was not lost.
He was still there, held within himself. No longer the shining knight he had strived so hard to be. No. Now, it was the Forever Man who needed protecting. He had become Tycen's secret treasure.
Belial's smirk faded, and a frown came to his hideous features as he tilted his head. Green eyes stared at him in confusion. He did not understand what was happening to the human in his lap.
It was the human's turn to smile, and give what small comfort he could as the familiar darkness began to settle in. The void between one world and the next that he knew so well beckoned to him.
And for the first time, that blue-eyed soul knew that he wasn't going to be there alone.
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He didn't look at him as he tightened his belt, though he longed to burn the scene into his mind. The blond had not only reached 30, he had surpassed it by four years. And now lay stretched out on a pile of rags beside the dying fire. Thought it should have been a happy occasion, their union would not last. The morning brought with it a truth bittersweet.
"No matter what happens," he started, dropping down to fasten the buckles on his boots. "I'll will always love you. Have always loved you."
"Al, what are you saying?"
"I'm going to do it. I'm going to face them, and-"
"You don't know what will happen." He sat up, letting the thin blanket fall to his waist as he watched the relic of a man. "That much power... you know you can't handle it. You can barely keep a balance with yourself. It would kill you."
"I have to. I'm the only one that can," he said, about to rise to his feet again. But a gentle hand stopped him with a touch to his elbow.
"You said there's others like you. And then there's the angels. They could help us find another way. A way that doesn't involve you going on a suicide mission, and leaves us to run off together."
He smiled, turning his head at last to look at him. After a moment, he gave a soft chuckle. "That's a load of bullshit and you know it. We've exhausted all other options, Ty," he said. "For once, please just admit that I'm right."
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"I... have this gift, you see. I used to think it was a curse, but I know different now. It was my salvation."
"I don't understand."
"I can, I have saved damned souls by taking their sins away, taking them into myself. I used to have an actual system in place. Lots of paperwork. You should know, you were there. But then... there were others. More complex that required more... personal means of conduct."
He narrowed his eyes, puzzling it out before turning a faint shade of red. "Oh... So that's what you were calling it."
He nodded, his own cheeks turning a little pink. "It sustains me, the power of sin. It's what makes me immortal. Allows me to survive. The more I take in, the more I devour, the stronger I become. But I change," he said, casting his eyes away. "There's something inside me that grows powerful, too. Each time I take in more, the hunger grows. And now, it's unbearable. I lose myself, and it consumes me."
"You're becomming like them. One of those... creatures. The Legion."
Al sighed, propping himself up on his elbows as he let his head fall back to stare up at the stars. He had forgotten how beautiful such a sight was. It was calming, serene. But such emotions did not comfort him now. There were things he needed to say, to explain, just in case when the deeds were done, and the dustclouds settled... Tycen would understand what had happened to him, and why he may have to do the unthinkable.
"Al?" he asked, shifting to lay on his side, a nimble hand sliding across the immortal's exposed abdomen. Fingertips tracing scars over a lifetime old. "You know how to stop it, right? You've gone for 2000 years keeping it under control. Why can't you-"
"In the past, I've had friends, even a family. They gave me hope, and strength. And I could keep the balance, knowing that they believed in me, and cared for me. I wanted more than anything to keep them safe. They gave me a reason to keep the demon chained."
He leaned in close, pressing his lips against Al's shoulder with a sigh. "What about me?"
He smiled, turning his head and returning the affection with a light kiss to the younger's forhead. "Strawberries," he said, shifting his weight so that he too was on his side, facing the 34 year old.
"What?"
"You taste like strawberries."
"That's hardly the thing to say at a serious time like this."
"Is it?" he said, smirking and draping an arm over Tycen's side, pulling the mortal against him. "I crossed radioactive continents. Eight different wars, five of them with only one eye and a chunk of shrapnel in my lung. I've had people standing right next to me one minute, and the next they've got a bullet in their brain. Vampires have tried to use me as their never-ending food source. And I've taken a walk around the moon without a space suit." Al smiled, and it was a mischevious one. "And all the while, the one thing that kept me going was that maybe, just maybe, I might find that person that always made me think of strawberries every time I was lucky enough to get a taste."
Tycen laughed, pressing his forhead against the other man's shoulder and shaking his head. "You and your stories. You always have to make things sound so dramatic. News Flash Al, you're not the center of the universe."
He couldn't help but join his laughter. "But it's true though," he said between breaths. "You do taste like strawberries."
As the pair fell into another fit of laughs, the darkness of Al's thoughts receeded. Replaced by the smile on his lover's lips and the warmth found in his large blue eyes as he took him again beside the fire.
The grim discussion was put off in favor of comfort and solace in one another's arms. But as he listened to the blond's breathing later in the night, he knew the dawn would find them, and force him to explain himself in full.
2 more dribbles from the AS mythos, specifically, 10,001 and The Songs of Haniel
enjoy.
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Azrael appeared at his side, looking over his shoulder at the younger
angel's scribbling. "Something is on your mind, little brother," he said.
Sheol sighed, shaking his head as he turned to keep prying eyes away.
Azrael laughed and tussled his hair before standing up straight. "I see how it is,"
he grinned. "You've got that look on your face again."
"I've got no look."
"The one you wear when you are deep in thought."
"I wasn't-"
"No. But you were writing it, which is just as bad," he replied,
snatching the scraps of paper from the younger and holding them above his head
teasingly.
"Give it!"
"Not until you tell me what is wrong."
"Az, this isn't funny! Give it back!" he snapped angrily.
With a smirk, the elder gave him back the scraps. "And so with a single
phrase and a slight inflection of the voice, the truth comes out." He shook his
head and gently placed a hand on Sheol's shoulder. "It is the text again, isn't it?"
Sheol looked away, trying to keep his composure. "I don't know what
you are talking about."
"The throbbing. The constant beating inside your head. You are so
young..."
At last, Sheol began to relax, leaning back against the rock. "I wish I
were as strong as you and the others."
"You are strong, in your own ways. Where we have become weary
from age, you are resiliant and youthful. Curious and bright."
"But I do not have the strength to quiet my thoughts as you so easily
can. I fear the things I have read. They are too much... I cannot shut them out."
"The sacred book has been given to man many times in our long
history together. Raziel gave his great work to Adam and Eve after our Father
expelled them from Eden so that it could guide them back to Him."
"But I am nothing like Adam," he said, staring down at his hands.
"That is what Noah said the day Raphael was charged with giving the
book to him. Each who reads Raziel's words finds that spark of inspiration, that
spark of genius that lays dormant in all of man. It allows him to see without
seeing, and know without knowing. And I see that now, in you, young Sheol."
He shook his head. "Pardon my ignorance, elder brother, but how can
such things as anger and rage inspire? Do they not destroy?"
Azrael smiled. "Yes," he said. "I suppose they do. Yet you must
always remember that from darkness light springs. And from destruction, life
begins fresh and new." He laughed, draping an arm around the younger angel's
shoulders. "Anger has its uses, rage too. As you watch over man, you will see the
best and the worst of them, little brother. But take note of what you see. Not all
anger is negative. A great deal of it brings about change that otherwise would
never have come."
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"In the name of the Lord our Father, I cast thee out, Morning Star!"
Michael shouted, waving his flaming blade about. "And all who have followed
you! Never shall you cross this gate and look upon the might and the glory of
Heaven!"
The world shook, and chaos spread across the heavens as angels
began to fall. Sinking, at first, through the war-torn gardens of paradise. Then
down... deeper in the sky. Their cries became the thunder of the great storms
across the earth. Their wings beat futilely against the air, becomming the powerful
winds that ripped across the world.
"Sheol!" Haniel cried, diving after his beloved, reaching out to grasp
his desperately outstretched hand.
His face contorted in agony as he began to rise once more. Haniel was
hit, crying out in pain as he began to fall.
His fingers grasped the general's hand, clinging to it as if he had the
power to stop it.
"Haniel," Sheol said, looking up at him. Those brilliant eyes, as blue as
the Heavens themselves, burned into his memory. "Let me go."
"No! I won't! Not you! Come on! Beat your wings harder!"
"You can't!" he shouted back. "Let me fall!"
"I will carry us both!" he cried as his lover's fingers slipped through
his.
Azrael swooped in, grabbing Haniel by the arm. Grunting, he hoisted
him back up, back into the sky. Haniel wrapped his arms around him, sobbing
into his cloak of eternal night.
When next he looked up on his lover, his loyal and foolish Guardian,
the earth so far below opened wide to take him and all those who struggled against
the fall into her bosom.
The angels' flight was rough against those howling winds, the cries of
their lost brothers. A sudden anger fueled the wind, threatening to pull the two
back down. But Azrael pushed as hard as he could, and at last brought Haniel
back into the skies of Heaven.
The anger of the wind became a flash of lightening rage. And Lucifer's
voice boomed out defiantly across the kingdom of Heaven.
"Is is better to reign in Hell!" he screamed. "Than to be a slave in
Heaven!"
The Kingdom of Heaven shuddered at the sound of his voice, and
broke apart as he turned from his struggle to rise, beating the air with his wings as
proudly retreated into the abyss of the earth to join his Legion and his generals in
their eternal prison beneath the world of man.
okay. i'm supposed to be in bed. but i got back up, booted the computer back up, because i HAD to write this out before i forgot it all.
anyway, 2 dribbles from the same scene (i haven't come up with action and dialogue to connect them just yet) post the final big battle between Lucifer, Al, and Haniel/Randy.
anyways, as always, enjoy.
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Metatron looked down upon the kneeling Fallen, watching him closely as he spoke. "Belial the Devourer, prince of the Northern Regions of Hell, and general of the Legion. Our Father has been watching you for quite some time."
"Please, do not call me by such vile names," he said, never looking up at the one known to him as the voice of God himself.
"Then by what shall you be known, Fallen?"
He thought long and hard on this. Of all the names he had taken, of all the lifestyles and lifetimes he had lived, there was one name only that he felt truly fit him. So pale of skin, so ageless, so smooth...
He looked up, and he held his head high in a small degree of arrogance. "Alabaster. The name that resonates as truth down to my very core. It is... precious... to me."
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"What is your desire?"
"I wish to be that which I have not been since my childhood in Ireland. I wish to be human again, and to live out my final days in peace and solace."
"You understand that once you are human... the defects your body were given at birth will return. Your kidneys will fail. The structure of your heart will weaken and return you to the frail state you were in as a small child. Your muscles will atrophy from disuse as you are bed ridden. Your sight will continue to fail you until you are blind. You will become as helpless as a newborn babe, unable to call for help as your lungs will not be able to hold enough air for you to shout. And when you die, it will be excruciatingly painful. The agony of each breath, of each heartbeat, will drive you mad."
His eyes were closed tight as he held back his tears. Ever so slowly, he began to nod. "To live out my final days, mortal, be they in pain or bliss, is all I that I require. Where my soul goes thereafter, only the Lord God knows."
just a random monologue dribble from my angelican scriptures project.
enjoy.
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"There is a story, passed down through the Brotherhood, of Heaven's
greatest lovers. Haniel of the Choir and Sheol the Guardian. Many sought the
favor of Haniel, who sang with perfect harmony. Who's voice could make even
the most hideous of things beautiful and bright. Archangels, Seraphim, and the
Host alike sought him. But it was an angel of the lowly Guardian order who won
Haniel's heart.
"When the Fallen were cast out of Heaven, it was Haniel who pleaded
with the Lord to show pity on Sheol, who had then taken the name Belial. Haniel,
heartbroken and full of sorrow, explained to the Lord of Lucifer's trickery, and
how he had persuaded Sheol to turn against the Father. Sheol, he had claimed,
had believed what he was doing was right. He did not know of Lucifer's true
intentions.
"And the Father was moved by this, but he could not allow Sheol to
return, for his crimes had been far too great and his sins far too heavy. But he did
take pity. Thus, he sent Haniel to Earth, tasked with aiding Sheol, should he rise
there, on his path to redemption. An angel, Sheol could never be again. But
human, he might someday become, and in this way only may he return to the
Kingdom of Heaven."
this is sorta far-futurish for my Al character. i think i might want to work this into the Angelican Scriptures project when i pick it back up from the dusty box i've shoved it in. it's dark, it's got foul language, and murder.
enjoy.
note: just a few quick explanations - Al is host to the entity known as Belial, a demon prince of Hell, who in my story is the fallen angel Sheol from the War in Heaven, and was one of Lucifer's 3 chief generals. since he is a Fallen, he is weakened when exposed to things that hold Holy essence, those born of Heaven (angels and other heavenly creatures), or is on Holy Ground (save for most cemetaries). He is on a path of redemption, trying to earn his way back into Heaven for his wrongdoings against God. that is how he is able to muster the strength to break free.
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"You know there's only one place she can go, Alabaster."
"Motherfucker! Let her go! She's got nothing to do with this!" he
shouted, struggling against his bonds. But he was so weak... though simple chains
they were, he could not break them. Not in this place. Not in the presence of what
was Holy.
"She has everything to do with this!" he snapped back angrily. "Angel
and Fallen cannot co-exist. This... THING is an abomination!"
Angrily, Al tried his bonds again, knowing he did not have the strength
in such a holy place to free himself. His teeth gnashed at the air as he roared in his
rage. His green eyes burning with such deep rooted anger, such darkness that he
seemed a caged beast.
"Ah..." the priest said, tugging the woman by her hair and forcing her
forward just out of his reach. "Look at him, witch. Look at him and see your
loving father for what he truly is. A monster."
She stared at her father. Watching him in his madness. She felt the cool
trickle down her cheeks, and tasted the salty sweetness of her tears on her lips.
But she did not fear him. The monster that he was, she did not avert her gaze.
And then, she saw it. The small spark in his eyes that was the man she grew up
with. The man who loved her, who gave her everything she had ever wanted and
more.
"Be still, Alabaster, or the woman will die."
Al looked at his daughter, starting to settle against the wall like a tamed
animal. "Please," he said at last, his voice slightly hoarse. "Please. Let her go. It's
me you want. Let her go, and I swear to you, you'll never hear about her again.
She'll do no wrong. You have my word."
"Your word?... Your word?" he said, his voice thick with amusement
and mockery. "Your word doesn't amount to anything. You lie, you cheat, you
steal and you kill. Your WORD has no value, beast."
And she smiled then. Her father saw it, and his eyes pleaded with her.
Silently begging her to be still. Not to do anything she might regret.
Subtly, she shook her head and her vibrant emerald eyes glanced
towards one of the pews. The one where the priest had laid his briefcase of
torturous toys.
Al's eyes grew wide as his daughter put all her weight into her shoulder,
shouting as the priest pulled back on her hair when she hit him. Stunned he
released her, and she made a play for the briefcase. Her fingers fumbling with the
latches a moment. She tried to pry it open once they were undone, but was
stopped by a combination lock embedded into the leather.
"No!" Al screamed, unable to stop himself from struggling once again
as the priest took a handful of her hair, pulling her back hard to press the nozzle
of his gun against her temple.
She gasped as she was pulled upright and dragged up the platform to
the pulpit. She struggled against him the whole way, her nails clawing at his arm, at
his hand, trying to force him to release her.
But his conviction was strong, only serving to fortify his crazed belief.
He pushed her with such force against the altar that it knocked the breath out of
her.
Alabaster screamed pulling as hard as he could against his chains. The
steel shakles bit into his flesh, but he didn't care as the hot blood began to slither
down his hands. He would gladly rip his own hands off, it only it would make the
deranged priest stop, make him leave his daughter alone.
The woman looked up, gathering as much saliva as she could, spitting
upwards into his face.
"You bitch!" he shouted, pistol whipping her before taking a step back
and cocking his gun.
She stared up into the nozzle of the pistol defiantly, as if daring him to
shoot her. He was sweating, and she could see it in his eyes, the fight between
sanity and madness. And she laughed.
His hand shook, and his finger slipped. The trigger pulled and the
laughing was cut off. Gray-blonde hair and chunks of flesh splattered across the
altar. Blood splattered up into his face. He wiped furiously at it and turned as the
chained man wailed angrily.
The bolts holding the steel plates to the wall started to strip from the
wall. Muscles pulled tight as the chains began to sag, legs bracing against the floor
for leverage, for support.
The grinding of his teeth was audible enough that the priest started to
back away. His heart pounding as he watched the man rip his way from the wall.
He cocked his pistol again, shooting wildly at the monster barrelling
towards him. Each shot that hit him only made him more enraged, more beastly as
he closed the distance quickly between them.
The priest turned to run, screaming in fear as a hand reached out to
grab him by the back of his head and pull him backwards. A chain wrapped
around his throat tight as he was dragged, still kicking to where the woman's body
now lay, still warm, still bleeding from the remnants of her skull.
He clawed at his neck, trying desperately to pull it away, gasping for
breath as he was forced to look on what he had done.
"You call her an abomination," he hissed in the priest's ear. "You call
me a monster."
He licked the priest's ear after he spoke, pulling the chain tighter, but
not enough to snap his neck. Not yet. "If I am a monster, what does that make
you in the eyes of your God? There is only one place murderers go, priest."
His eyes grew wide as he was pulled once more, slammed against the
floor beside the dead woman, beside this demon's daughter. As he looked up into
the eyes of the man who was killing him, he didn't see the joy and the madness he
had expected to see. Instead, he saw the raw pain inside him and knew then
who this man was.
His last thought before he felt his neck snap was cast in despair and
fear. Oh God... I didn't know... I didn't know...
sorry if i've posted some or all of these before. i found this notebook under my bed, and can't remember if i worked my way through it all the way. any dribble in the book that i actually remember posting, i've left out this time. i think.
enjoy.
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"Father."
"Joeseph."
The Faceless nodded. "That was my name. A long time ago, in another world."
"Why... why are you like THIS?"
"Each of us were born with a gift, a trait of our parental souls. As half-breeds, we were mortal, but we bore the powers of demons."
Joe turned to see standing here two different, yet similar beings. "Our brother, Justine's twin was believed gift-less. Our sister, being the older of the two, had inherited all of our father-soul's gifts. Our brother was believed to be a by-product, inheriting the less desirable human qualities Genki possessed." It was the boy, once a mere child now a grown man, who spoke. "It was not until the Battle of Paradise Gates that our brother's gift was revealed."
"My brother," the other man said. "My mronic, ruthless, selfish brother had inherited our father-soul's most important gift: spiritual transferance of non-tangible matter... Demonic Possession. But Joeseph was unique. He could work it in reverse, and rather than he possess another being's body, he could summon someone else into his own."
"I don't understand."
"Our brother is a Faceless now because he traded places with YOU, Joe. I saw it happen, at the Battle of Paradise Gates. When you touched the Sword of Death, the connection had been completed. He took your place in the fields so that our champion, Death, would not fail."
"Why? Tell me why I remember things I never did. See things I never had."
The Faceless spoke again, if it could have been called such. From his mind into the others' his words flowed, for he had no mouth with which to speak. "That was my gift to you father."
"I'm not your father!" Joe snapped angrily. "Genki-"
"No. I was born of the good, of the humanity that was left in you. My sister was the demonic child of Genki. But I am unique. I am from you," Joeseph replied contentedly. "Yo show my gratitude for being able to cross worlds, I lived the rest of my days with him on the island. He taught me so much about what it means to be a family. I helped raise Astarte, and my own half-brother, Miguel. I learned what it means to be human. All of my memories I gave to you. I grew up, and I experienced the joys you took for granted."
"Joeseph..."
"I knew it wasn't me he saw. It was you. He called your name in the passion of night. I accepted it. But he was kind... so kind... for 30 years, I lived the life I was given. Knowing I would give that life back to you."
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"The Snake Eater is an emblem of transformation, an emblem of eternity."
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Their eyes locked, and they looked away quickly, innocently, embarrassed. Joe laughed lightly and looked back at him. He raised his glass, and Tem linked their arms together. The pair leaned in close to sip from their glasses.
"To us," Tem said.
"May we never deal with end of the world bullshit for the rest of eternity," Joe said with a grin.
"I'll second that."
They finished their drinks and remained beside the fire, huddled beneath a heavy blanket for many hours. At last, the angel of destruction rose, turning and holding out his hand.
Death took it without question. He climbed to his feeth, and pulled the red haired bastard tight against him. Their eyes met in carnal desire, and for a moment it seemed their minds touched before their lips crashed together.
Temmothy melted against his loyal protector, allowing his mouth to be raped by his lover's tongue. At last, he pulled away, panting for breath with a burning need in his eyes.
He looked toward the bed and smiled, his hands reaching up to untie the belt of his ceremonial robes. He shrugged the garment off and stood exposed in the firelight.
Joe watched him, his breath caught in his throat as his dark prince moved, his form young and graceful as he had once been all those years ago. He climbed upon the bed, sitting on his knees with his thighs spread and one hand sliding down to caress himself intimately. His other hand outstretched, beckoning for his lover to come to him.
The new god would not dissapoint. He shed his clothes quickly, and joined him on the bed. He was a perfect specimen of strengh, of pure and raw primal force. Reaching over, he yanked the other man's hair, and pulled him to him. He held the red head tight once again.
No words were spoken, only glances shared as lips touched and hands roamed; shadows danced and bodies writhed in the firelight.
The silence of the Dark Palace was broken by the blood curdling screams of the Snake Eater prince and the moans of his most loyal knight.
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this was a random spin-off idea for my reclaimation series - i re-worked it some into what i'm currently working on. this is the events of my Reclaimation series, written in the form of an ancient myth/story passed down among a tribal type of people.
Generations ago, there was a man who sought to become a god. In his rise to power, that man broke the world.
But there were some who would not praise him, and the man became angry. He tried to kill those who would not obey him.
Many lives were lost, and many memories burried. Those who survived the slaughter banded together, and raised an army.
They were the last of mankind. Their leaders led the march on the man-god's tower.
They fought the man-god's legions. Ordinary men and women became heroes, and they refused to die until victory had been won.
This was the beginnin of the world. This was the end of the Dark Times. But the world was wounded, dying. Mankind tried to rebuild, to bring life back to the war-torn planet, but to no avail.
They took to the stars, to find a new home. What they found was Gaea. What they found was Me.
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again, this was another spin-off idea, written in an ancient myth/story format.
Secrets from the darkest regions, raining from the heavens like shooting stars. Men and women controlling giant metal beasts.
They look like Earth men and Earth women. But they smell of something older, something sinister.
They came down, and they used their metal beasts to rampage the lands of Gaea. Innocent blood was spilt, and there was nothing anyone could do.
The kings of Earth men met with the Chieftans of Gaean tribes. The soothsayers and Earth wiseman were sent for to help give answers.
The Earth wisemen called the metal beasts MECHS, and spoke of them in much fear.
The kings and Chieftans gathered their braves warriors and knights...
And I reached out in agony to the Defenders of Gaea. It was time for the four of them to be called again.
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"Everything's happy underground."
"We can't be happy underground."
"But there's no sign of the weather underground," he replied happily. "And we can have turpentine for tea."
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One god rose from beneath the earth.
One god drifted ashore from the west wind.
An angel emerged from the lighted horizon.
Another fell from the space between the stars.
The god from the earth roared, and all that is became.
The god who rode the wind breathed out, and all that moves became.
The angel of the horizon smiled, and all that lives became.
And the angel from the stars watched, and he waited; for all that is decays, all that moves breaks down, and all the lives must die.
So was the creation of the world in the beginning.
And so shall it be again.
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"The world is in its stage of rebirth. The world was destroyed, and went into hibernation to regain its strength and power. This period, the time you lived in, is called the Dark Years, for all the darkness in the world had run amok.
"But as the time of rebirth neared, the world began to awaken, and in doing so, the decendants of mankind's bravest and noblist warriors began to awaken their latent powers."
He paused and shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if trying to focus harder. At last, he nodded and spoke again. "At the end of every major stage of the world, a battle must be fought."
"why?"
"To decide who will rule the world; Man or Beast?"
"I don't understand. This has happened before?"
"Yes," the young shaman said with a nod. Slowly, he began to gather up his stones to place them back in their bag.
The hacker watched him, then quietly asked, "So which am I? Man or Beast?"
Kellog laughed lightly, reaching out to gently pat his hand before putting his bag into the travel pack. "You are both, yet you are neither."
"what's that supposed to mean?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just the messenger."
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"Astarte Pike," she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she stood before an antique portrait.
"The founder of the Westview Sanitarium," Doctor Janus said from behind her. "As well as the first earth-man to be given the Colonial Bio-Technical Research Grant in the history of the Senate."
She smiled. "And it's because of him that I'm alive," she said. "Ironic."
"How so, senator?"
"In my past, over 200 years ago, it was I who gave him life. And now, it is his life's work that lets me keep mine."
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"What the hell's wrong with you! This was a live ammo test! You could have got us all killed!"
"Doesn't matter," he said coldly. "Soldiers are pawns, trained to kill and be killed."
"That still doesn't-"
"As long as the mission succeeds, the number of casualties becomes meaningless."
"You're one cold bastard, Pike!" Ashton snarled.
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He smiled. "It was only a matter of time before you would come, young Xander."
"Who's he talking about?" Christina asked Ashton quietly.
"The physical stamina of Beatrix Kicklighter. The mind of Xenocrates Pike. I wonder... can you live up to your namesakes, boy?"
"I've gotten this far, haven't I?"
"Not alone, I see," he said.
Tem smirked. "I know what you're working on old man. But if you want me, you take these two as well."
"Hold on a second here!" Ashton interrupted.
"Christina's skill with programming and data is top of the entire school. And Ashton's talents for battle rival my own."
"This is not a negotiation, boy."
"I know. But you can't finish your research withou tme. The DAMIEN system will not work unless you have me to pilot it."
"You've gone mad, kid."
"Well, you know the options," he said, crossing his arms over his slender chest.
"Cadet-"
"That's Lt. Marshall to you, _Sargent_," he replied.
"You understand what you're draggin your friends into?"
"I have full faith in them. They are the best of the best. You'll find no better."
-----------------------
"How? But we all thought-"
"I was raised by the military," he said. "I've been working undercover for the past 2 years trying to locate the DAMIEN Project."
"But why?"
"To save lives. They have been trying to find a pilot for the prototype my father developed. But the failsafe security system will kill anyone who is not authorized to pilot the machine."
Ashton nodded. "So you think you can do this all by yourself?"
He shook his head. "No. I already know I can't. But I have to try anyway."
"Why here, why now? KMAA's students are much more-"
"Because that's where everyone expects to find them. I didn't come here because I wanted to. I was sent from KMAA. I rose quickly in the last 2 years to the top ranks. At Kicklighter, if you're at the top long enough, they transfer you here to join the Program."
So I have taken the random dribblies of mine about Belial, Lucifer, and the like (based off of my and a few friend's RP characters) and turned it into another giant epic story. I have written up a rough outline of the project, and will use the dribbles i have written previously, with some heavy handed editing of course.
This is one of three official excerpts from the first few chapters of the project, which will be posted on Melancholia Dragonflies chapter by chapter when completed, much like my other work PROJECT 8-13.
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Excerpt from The Angelican Scriptures
Opening: Whispers in the Dark
My kind came from Heaven. But dwell in Hell. We are the forsaken. We are the forgotten. We are those who dare not tread in the light. But there are some among us who defy the Universal Law. Who challenge the Devil, and defy his dark will.
We are the Lost. We are the Shadow. Many of us scattered throughout the globe. Abandoned by God, and in the service of the Morning Star. But there is a whisper among them of a man that will bring them together under a single cause. To restore the world of man to God's domain, and push the dark ones back into the pits from whence they came.
There are rumors in the dark that one among us is the key to ending the war that Lucifer began, and we supported. I have never placed stock in rumors...
That was my final mistake...
Chapter One: The Earth Bound
He looked up from his bowl of chedder broccoli soup. "Can I help you?"
"Are you the one called Sheol?"
"Who want's to know?" he replied, taking another spoonful of his hot soup.
The woman nodded with a smile. "Mind if I have a seat?"
"Go ahead. It's still a free country. Well, this side of it is."
She nodded once more, crossing her legs after she sat down. A cigarette was brought to her lips, and a silver zippo lighter flashed into view. She inhaled deeply the deadly smoke, and leaned back with an arm draped over the back of her chair. "We have been looking for you for quite a long time."
"I can't fool the great Gabriel can I?"
She laughed and tapped her cigarette over the ash tray on the table. He took another spoonful of cheese and broccoli. "We told you that when the time came, you would be called into the service of Our Father." She paused, and he seemed to ignore her, focusing on his soup. "Your services are needed."
"I fulfilled my obligations to Him years ago. I no longer owe Him anything."
"The restoration of a human life requires more than a simple night full of converting innocent teenagers to the Word of God. He showed faith in you, Sheol, and granted your wish for your dead lover to be returned to you. Now it is time for you to repay what He has done for you."
He set down his spoon and wiped at his mouth with a napkin. Black rimmed frames came off, and were folded neatly to be placed back into their dark red case. He opened his eyes, dull, dark-green orbs stared across the table at her as he slowly smiled.
"What is His will then, Gabriel?"
She nodded, and pulled an envelope from the inside of her jacket. A golden wax seal held it closed. Unbroken... meant only for him. "The Princes will soon be upon this Earth. Leviathan, Satan, and the Morning Star. War will rage again, and Our Father has heard the rumors of a Fallen hiding in the dark, waiting for a chance to get even."
"I see. And he assumes that it is I? There are others of my kind now. More than I would like. Let your Angels take care of it."
"No, Sheol. I cannot. Michael, he is stubborn, and will show no mercy, even to you."
"So? Let him come. I welcome death by his sword. I have remained in this world for far too long."
She smiled then, and tapped her cigarette once more. "You have become weary so soon my Brother?"
He sighed. "Not soon enough," he replied, folding the envelope and tucking it into his pocket. "I will take no part in this war."
"You have no choice. As one of the Princes, they will seek you out, and they will find you. What I have given you was given to me by Metatron, and to him from God himself."
"What is it?"
She smiled. "You will know when the time comes. Until then, do not break the seal, but keep it with you always."
