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Nightmare three
This story like the other REALLY REALLY disturbing ones here is part of a dream/nightmare sequence that I made an unsuccessful attempt at putting the reader inside the story by not anouncing the dreamstate. It didn't work, thus this little narritive telling everyone that this is a Cutharian sent nightmare.
They had tracked him down, the king’s guards. They had
Found a way to take his access to magic from him. Forbidden Song had also been taken from him somehow. Now he had only recourse to his powers as a Sojon, which something in the back of his mind told him he mustn't use those, and himself. They had caught him, the outlaw on the run. He was trapped in this castle with its multitude of rooms and a single exit.
"Who the hell builds a castle with only one door leading out?" Rory asked no one in particular as he strode down the halls of the castle. Then he heard the doors at the end of the hall bang open, the sound of running armored boots and the clink of chain mail on a steel breastplate. He waited by the next-door frame, nearly invisible in the murky light from the wall sconce a few paces down from him. The light glinted off of the mace carried by the guard. Everything would have to go perfectly or Rory would be a very dead piece of hamburger meat after the knight was done. As the soldier passed him by, he reached out and twisted the man’s head all the way around, killing him instantly. The clatter of the guard falling to the ground brought others running. Rory barely had time to snatch up the mace before having to confront another guard. He was lucky they had spread out to cover the entire castle. The man rushed forward, swinging his broad sword in a powerful overhead strike. It was unfortunate that the ceilings were so high in the castle, thought Rory as he threw himself into the left wall to avoid being sliced in two. He was scared, terrified of dieing, like he always was, but instead of letting his fear paralyze him, he chose to meet the threat of death with an insane grin and mad laughter, thinking fast and fighting hard, the adrenaline coursing threw his veins made the world slow down just enough. The soldier's blade broke as it slammed into the ground where he had been. The mace didn't break as it slammed into the place the guard's head had occupied. Unable to free the mace from the guard's helm, Rory scooped up what remained of his sword, a blunt dagger about 7 inches long that was hilt heavy. Rory took off running hopping not to have to face another guard in this hall, which was now almost clogged with the two bodies already in it. And ran straight into the next guard. "Son of a..." Rory bit the rest of the exclamation off, along with the tip of his tongue, as he ran into the next guard.
As the guard bowled him over backwards he kept the presence of mind to yank the man's breastplate up and to the side, which also moved the chain hauberk he was wearing. As soon as they hit the ground Rory began sawing at the man's innards with a strength born of desperation, feeling his lungs burning for air, the crushing weight of the man on top of him was about to make him start panicking. The harsh screaming of the man did little to assuage that panic, and finally Rory thrashed loose from the man covered in blood and viscera. Realizing he could never make it to his feet in time to deal with the next guard, who's footsteps were thudding quickly toward them, he had to look the man he had just disemboweled in the eyes as he took his belt dagger and stuck it under his arm and curled up in a contorted pose so that it hid the fact the knife wasn’t in him. Lying back he closed his eyes and listened to the running footsteps.
As the soldier approached he thought he was looking at a victory, and the dieing guard, having no diaphragm, could only point at Rory. "You got the bastard," said the new arrival, walking over to aid his comrade. As his foot came down, Rory lashed out with the knife, cutting the man's Achilles’ tendon, and diving onto the man as he fell. The dagger slid easily into the man's left eye, and his struggles ended. The screaming, and sobbing kept on, until Rory realized it was himself making those sounds. Climbing too his feet he barely had time to back pedal out of range when yet another soldier arrived, this one swinging a battle axe. The first lumbering blow chopped into the corpse or the last guard to die. The next swing was slowed slightly by the weight of gore on the axe, and Rory leaped side the circle of the man's arms slamming his elbow into the leading arm that was holding the axe. The man lost his grip but bashed the smaller unarmored figure grappling it into the wall.
Disparately Rory rained blows, bare handed against his opponent, who gripped his neck and began to choke the life out of him. For an instant panic gripped him, then he lashed out with long practiced techniques, the same techniques that had been used against armored samurai for hundreds of years. Rory lashed out with his right foot, breaking the man's left knee from the side, at the same time he flung his arm in and trapped the man's right arm under his left armpit, then fell to the ground heavily, breaking the arm. He spun on his haunches and used his legs to break the neck, then untangled him self and stood, panting and shaking in fear, listening for another set of footsteps coming toward him. He looked around at the carnage, only to find that the bodies of the guards had been replaced with the bodies of his friends. Louie, Scott, Kevin, Motoko and Iala stared up with the accusing eyes of the dead.
Rory woke up screaming, and bit his tongue as Motoko shook him hard enough to rattle his teeth.
"How did the last dream sequence go?"
"Poorly milord, we were unable to force him to use his powers, but he was punished for his disobedience, we think that if we can continue, he will eventually crack, and use his powers, rather than be punished," said the Cutharian dream lord to his master.
"Very well. Continue your efforts," replied the dark lord of the Cutharians.
---
Gats: But I didn't bring a flame
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Squall Leonhart: "My dream wasn't nice, I dreamed I was a moron."
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11/23/2004, 5:28 pm
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Typo Demons
The story I make references to almost daily. I finially decided to post it here in for your viewing pleasure.
It has come to my attention that some people here do not know about Typo Demons. Typo demons are lower class demons, which, as with most demons, are invisible. They love to cause mischief, and will happily topple drinks and chips onto your keyboard. But the thing for which they are famous is when they redirect ones fingers from the keys one meant to strike, while making one believe that no mistake exists. They are such low forms of evil as to be unexorcisable, no amount of sprinkling ones keyboard with Holy water works. Nor does invoking the Lord’s name, nor describing incestuous mating habits, nor does attacking the parentage of these demons work. There is no known cure for them, they take great delight in waiting long periods before they strike again, and will then hang around to make up for lost time. Go forth now and guard thyself well with the knowledge I have imparted onto you.
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Gats: But I didn't bring a flame
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Squall Leonhart: "My dream wasn't nice, I dreamed I was a moron."
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11/30/2004, 5:28 pm
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School Days :Fam and Kevin Alternate Reality
School Days
Kevin slid into his seat just seconds before the bell rang. His last day in highschool, and his timeing was as perfect as ever.
"Cutting it a little close arn't you?" Said the golden furred wiggan who sat next to him.
"I always enjoy a close shave," replied Kevin tracing his jawline with a finger. Fam's eyes large and limpid followed his movements, longing to reach out and trace his face, but there were other people around. Soon enough they would not longer be there to hinder her desires.
"Fam?" said Kevin, a bit worried by the look on her face and her long silence. Fam waved his concerns away,muttering, "I'm fine, I'm fine, I was just a million miles away for a minute." Kevin started talking about his day, but all she really saw was his mouth moving. Weeks ago he had taken her to the Prom, but she could still remember the feel of his hands around her waist, and the taste of the goodnight kiss he gave her.Fam realized she was squirming in her seat when Kevin stopped talking and looked at her with hungry expression that made her knees weak, a sudden inferno of passion in his eyes. Just as quickly as it appeared it vanished behind a smileing face filled with concern. She would have given anything to know what he had been thinking.
'God she is so beautiful,' thought Kevin sitting there watching her shift in her seat. 'To be a pair of pan...' Kevin shook himself before he finished that thought, it would not help him in his vow to wait until she was ready for him. Looking into her eyes his resolve began melting like ice in the Sarharian summer sun. He noticed her looking at him and came back to himself, trying to forget how much he wanted her at this very moment. "Penny for your thoughts," he said tenderly.
"Your parents are gone for the weekend again arn't they Kevin?" A pained expression stole across Kevin's face for a moment before he answered.
"Yes, they'll be gone for a few days." Fam figured that he never liked to be alone in that house, at least she knew she would hate it if it was her alone.
"My parents are gone for the next couple of days as well, and I don't want to be in the house all alone, its so scary without anyone else around," Fam confessed, "would you come over and keep me company?" Fam looked up from beneith her perfect golden lashes bitting her lip and praying he would.
"Of course," said Kevin without thinking. "Come over and be close to you where its just the two of us...I'm going strait to hell in a handbasket. Unlike most youngmen his age there was a rift between what he desired and what he wanted, between his instinct and his actual desires. What he desired more than anything was to make Fam his wife. What he wanted was to be able to love Fam on all levels, spiritual, emotional, and physical. What instinct told him was much more simple.
"Good then its settled, today we will stop at your house to pick up some cloths, then you will spend the weekend with me." Fam looked immencely pleased with herself. For a moment Kevin gaped like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing without sounds forming.
"Oh silly," said Fam before she kissed him, closing his mouth quite nicely.
Kevin was smileing on the drive home, but Fam noticed a hint of worry in his eyes. Appearently he was still clueless. She guessed it was a male thing, picked up from his best friend Scott.
---
Gats: But I didn't bring a flame
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Squall Leonhart: "My dream wasn't nice, I dreamed I was a moron."
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1/7/2005, 7:41 pm
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