Post by The Lone Wolf on Jul 7, 2007 3:30:52 GMT -5
12/14/05- 11:07 p.m.
The air was deathly still and eerily silent. It was as if the entire world was holding its breath in anticipation… of what, one may never know. The nearest street light had been shattered some time ago by one of the city’s countless hoodlums, and no one in a position of power had seen fit to replace it. Yet the tenebrous landscape was far from indiscernible… the full moon cast a surreal glow over the alleyway behind the arena… Even the rank scent of refuse seemed to hang suspended in the air, as if we were witness to a moment frozen in time.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the frozen moment started to change. The first sign to penetrate the senses was the smell… the putrid, sickly odor of charred and blackened flesh.
As the vomitous stench invaded the nostrils, the air began to move slightly, as evident by the crumpled and stained newspaper page that floated past view. The whisper of the wind was faint beyond the threshold for human hearing, but after a few more seconds, the lightest of noises penetrated the moment.
It was the sound of labored breathing, so soft as to make one question whether it was real or imagined, but the reality of it was confirmed when it was accompanied by a heart wrenching moan, like that of a dying animal.
Movement, barely perceptible on the edge of our range of vision. The movement faltered, starting and stopping along with the labored breath, every miniscule advance bringing with it an agony of torment.
As the figure drew further into view in painstakingly slow increments, its shape resolved. It is… or was… human in form… but however it once looked; the monstrous shape was now virtually unrecognizable. The form alternated between soot black expanses and mottled, molten red patches of what was once human flesh. A gasp escaped from the creature’s mouth as it continued to inch forward, and blackened portions flaked off, revealing hideously pink scarred flesh beneath.
With a revolting tear, the marred eyelids of the creature came open, revealing piercing blue eyes. As part of a human face, the eyes would have been beautiful… but here amidst the tortured remnants of a once vibrant body, they were mournfully out of place, and hideous to behold.
The eyes, they say, are the windows on the soul, but what these eyes bore witness to is something… unimaginable… The depth they exposed was nearly limitless, foretelling the wisdom of the ages… but the pain they tried to hide was nearly as infinite. Those awful eyes alternated between pure animal instinct and painfully sharp intelligence, yet all the while the message was the same: survive. Survive, for the alternative is not an option. Fight it, fight the pain that threatens to engulf you… ignore it, ignore it and push through… push through and survive… no matter what…
Slowly, but steadily, air flowed more smoothly into the lungs of the mangled creature. With the influx of oxygen came the activation of ancient techniques, honed over the ages, to block out the pain, to ignore the signals of the physical body that should plunge the creature into unconsciousness, and instead to push on, to continue to be through sheer force of consciousness.
As cellular respiration returned and the creature forced its mangled muscled to expand and contract, its movements became less jerky and sudden, more ground is covered as the beast dragged itself forward. A few paces ahead of it a grid shaped grate merged with the curb, marking one of many portals into the sewer, home of the run off and refuse of that which humanity vainly refers to as “society.” Towards this destination the creature dragged itself.
Muffled noises from somewhere in the not so great distance intruded on the scene, and the movements of the creature became more urgent. Slowly it forced itself towards the grate. At last the creature was close enough, and that which was once a hand slowly extended to the grate. A mangled digit clumsily managed to hook an opening and push up.
Behind the creature a noise which could only be a door swinging open and slamming shut echoed through the alleyway. With a last thrust of will, the creature pushef back the pain and rolled forward, sliding into the space between curb and grate, slamming down to the putrid wet floor of the sewer below as the grate fell back in place above it. The creature held its breath.
Forms rushed out into the alleyway, intact forms, human forms. Men, their bodies whole, their flesh on marred, they burst forth onto the scene, eyes anxiously scanning in every direction.
“Come on!” The first shouted, “He must be here somewhere!”
“How!?” The second fearfully demanded, “How could he have gotten out of that?!”
“I don’t know, alright?! I don’t know!” The first was edgy, almost terrified as he once more searched his surroundings, “Fuck, there’s nothing here… let’s look around front!”
The second nodded, and those two pristine forms rushed out of sight and around a corner. For several seconds more the creature was utterly motionless, refusing even to allow breath to reveal its location. It has learned to go without even the supposed necessities of life for far longer than modern science would declare possible, but then, it knows of many things that science has yet to recognize.
Finally it released its breath, allowing the stale carbon dioxide to seep from its longs, slowly to be replaced by fresh oxygen. For a moment the creature rested.
Terrible emotions flashed across its eyes as tear ducts fused shut desperately attempted to empty themselves. It did not understand. It could not understand.
Those haunting eyes angrily forced themselves shut. Weakness! Unholy weakness has been displayed! It has made a terribly mistake, and it despises itself for it! What was it thinking?! It knows so much better than this!
But it allowed the mistake to happen. After so long… after so much numbness, it had allowed itself to feel… It had allowed something to penetrate its shell, something other than anger or blood lust… And it had faced the consequence, low, it had faced the consequences…
Rage boiled out of it, not rage at those which did this to it, rage at itself for showing the weakness that let it happen. The other, the betrayer, it had felt for him… It had tolerated his presence… no… more, it had welcomed that presence, it had allowed itself to depend upon him, and when the knife was plunged into its back, it allowed shock to overtake it…
And now look at it, Gods be damned, look at it! This pathetic reversion, this ridiculous weakness had nearly destroyed it! It took all that it had to remove itself from that death chamber and transport itself even this short distance…
Look at what you have become, the creature demanded. It raged against the frailty its body portrayed, revolted against the failure of its flesh… This is nothing! It has faced far worse and lived to tell of it… It should be able to repair this ridiculous damage, to restore the flesh and force the body to function through effort of mind…
But it had depleted itself… it had exhausted its reserves in fleeing that place, and ripping itself away from that chamber of death it allowed itself to be forced into… And now the healing it should be able to enact in minutes would take years to accomplish, if ever…
A low rumble sounded deep in its throat, the distant ancestor of a growl. Enough of this! Enough wallowing in self pity! Enough bemoaning what should be but isn’t! Go! Move, you pathetic chunk of carbon, move!
It dragged itself forward, oblivious to the sickening filth around it. It forced itself along, slowly slithering across the sewer, reaching the end of the plane and plummeting down into a pipe dozens of feet below, feeling bones snap and tendons tear, but not caring. It dragged itself further away, away from the men who ludicrously believe they could help it, away from the betrayer, away from those that sought to end its existence, foolish as that concept may be… Away, it demanded! Away from its own weakness! Away from its own mistakes! Away from the world it had impossibly allowed to breach its defenses, away from the life it had allowed to touch its heart…
Biting down fiercely on that which remained of its lip, it dragged itself forward, past another precipice, facing another bone snapping fall. Away is all it would allow itself to think… get away, and survive…
The air was deathly still and eerily silent. It was as if the entire world was holding its breath in anticipation… of what, one may never know. The nearest street light had been shattered some time ago by one of the city’s countless hoodlums, and no one in a position of power had seen fit to replace it. Yet the tenebrous landscape was far from indiscernible… the full moon cast a surreal glow over the alleyway behind the arena… Even the rank scent of refuse seemed to hang suspended in the air, as if we were witness to a moment frozen in time.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the frozen moment started to change. The first sign to penetrate the senses was the smell… the putrid, sickly odor of charred and blackened flesh.
As the vomitous stench invaded the nostrils, the air began to move slightly, as evident by the crumpled and stained newspaper page that floated past view. The whisper of the wind was faint beyond the threshold for human hearing, but after a few more seconds, the lightest of noises penetrated the moment.
It was the sound of labored breathing, so soft as to make one question whether it was real or imagined, but the reality of it was confirmed when it was accompanied by a heart wrenching moan, like that of a dying animal.
Movement, barely perceptible on the edge of our range of vision. The movement faltered, starting and stopping along with the labored breath, every miniscule advance bringing with it an agony of torment.
As the figure drew further into view in painstakingly slow increments, its shape resolved. It is… or was… human in form… but however it once looked; the monstrous shape was now virtually unrecognizable. The form alternated between soot black expanses and mottled, molten red patches of what was once human flesh. A gasp escaped from the creature’s mouth as it continued to inch forward, and blackened portions flaked off, revealing hideously pink scarred flesh beneath.
With a revolting tear, the marred eyelids of the creature came open, revealing piercing blue eyes. As part of a human face, the eyes would have been beautiful… but here amidst the tortured remnants of a once vibrant body, they were mournfully out of place, and hideous to behold.
The eyes, they say, are the windows on the soul, but what these eyes bore witness to is something… unimaginable… The depth they exposed was nearly limitless, foretelling the wisdom of the ages… but the pain they tried to hide was nearly as infinite. Those awful eyes alternated between pure animal instinct and painfully sharp intelligence, yet all the while the message was the same: survive. Survive, for the alternative is not an option. Fight it, fight the pain that threatens to engulf you… ignore it, ignore it and push through… push through and survive… no matter what…
Slowly, but steadily, air flowed more smoothly into the lungs of the mangled creature. With the influx of oxygen came the activation of ancient techniques, honed over the ages, to block out the pain, to ignore the signals of the physical body that should plunge the creature into unconsciousness, and instead to push on, to continue to be through sheer force of consciousness.
As cellular respiration returned and the creature forced its mangled muscled to expand and contract, its movements became less jerky and sudden, more ground is covered as the beast dragged itself forward. A few paces ahead of it a grid shaped grate merged with the curb, marking one of many portals into the sewer, home of the run off and refuse of that which humanity vainly refers to as “society.” Towards this destination the creature dragged itself.
Muffled noises from somewhere in the not so great distance intruded on the scene, and the movements of the creature became more urgent. Slowly it forced itself towards the grate. At last the creature was close enough, and that which was once a hand slowly extended to the grate. A mangled digit clumsily managed to hook an opening and push up.
Behind the creature a noise which could only be a door swinging open and slamming shut echoed through the alleyway. With a last thrust of will, the creature pushef back the pain and rolled forward, sliding into the space between curb and grate, slamming down to the putrid wet floor of the sewer below as the grate fell back in place above it. The creature held its breath.
Forms rushed out into the alleyway, intact forms, human forms. Men, their bodies whole, their flesh on marred, they burst forth onto the scene, eyes anxiously scanning in every direction.
“Come on!” The first shouted, “He must be here somewhere!”
“How!?” The second fearfully demanded, “How could he have gotten out of that?!”
“I don’t know, alright?! I don’t know!” The first was edgy, almost terrified as he once more searched his surroundings, “Fuck, there’s nothing here… let’s look around front!”
The second nodded, and those two pristine forms rushed out of sight and around a corner. For several seconds more the creature was utterly motionless, refusing even to allow breath to reveal its location. It has learned to go without even the supposed necessities of life for far longer than modern science would declare possible, but then, it knows of many things that science has yet to recognize.
Finally it released its breath, allowing the stale carbon dioxide to seep from its longs, slowly to be replaced by fresh oxygen. For a moment the creature rested.
Terrible emotions flashed across its eyes as tear ducts fused shut desperately attempted to empty themselves. It did not understand. It could not understand.
Those haunting eyes angrily forced themselves shut. Weakness! Unholy weakness has been displayed! It has made a terribly mistake, and it despises itself for it! What was it thinking?! It knows so much better than this!
But it allowed the mistake to happen. After so long… after so much numbness, it had allowed itself to feel… It had allowed something to penetrate its shell, something other than anger or blood lust… And it had faced the consequence, low, it had faced the consequences…
Rage boiled out of it, not rage at those which did this to it, rage at itself for showing the weakness that let it happen. The other, the betrayer, it had felt for him… It had tolerated his presence… no… more, it had welcomed that presence, it had allowed itself to depend upon him, and when the knife was plunged into its back, it allowed shock to overtake it…
And now look at it, Gods be damned, look at it! This pathetic reversion, this ridiculous weakness had nearly destroyed it! It took all that it had to remove itself from that death chamber and transport itself even this short distance…
Look at what you have become, the creature demanded. It raged against the frailty its body portrayed, revolted against the failure of its flesh… This is nothing! It has faced far worse and lived to tell of it… It should be able to repair this ridiculous damage, to restore the flesh and force the body to function through effort of mind…
But it had depleted itself… it had exhausted its reserves in fleeing that place, and ripping itself away from that chamber of death it allowed itself to be forced into… And now the healing it should be able to enact in minutes would take years to accomplish, if ever…
A low rumble sounded deep in its throat, the distant ancestor of a growl. Enough of this! Enough wallowing in self pity! Enough bemoaning what should be but isn’t! Go! Move, you pathetic chunk of carbon, move!
It dragged itself forward, oblivious to the sickening filth around it. It forced itself along, slowly slithering across the sewer, reaching the end of the plane and plummeting down into a pipe dozens of feet below, feeling bones snap and tendons tear, but not caring. It dragged itself further away, away from the men who ludicrously believe they could help it, away from the betrayer, away from those that sought to end its existence, foolish as that concept may be… Away, it demanded! Away from its own weakness! Away from its own mistakes! Away from the world it had impossibly allowed to breach its defenses, away from the life it had allowed to touch its heart…
Biting down fiercely on that which remained of its lip, it dragged itself forward, past another precipice, facing another bone snapping fall. Away is all it would allow itself to think… get away, and survive…