wrote:Something doesnÂ’t quite feel right. It is dark, but it is not cold. You can feel the crunch of leafy detritus beneath the soles of your bare feet, and you flinch now and then at a twig or stone which pokes upwards at your fleshy footpads. You endure it simply because you just have to keep on going. Your vision is hazy and unclear as you weave your way through the long shadows thrown over your path by the hulking boughs of the forest oaks, pines and hickory. The yearning fingers of thicket twigs grab at your already torn clothes, some scratching against your partially exposed legs, sides and back. None of it makes you feel particularly comfortable.
The scent of pine needles assails your nostrils, the deep, crisp, clean aroma of the musty mountain air heightened by the gentle caress of dew-topped soil. It is ghostly quiet; not even the crickets or summer cicadas greet your ears with their songs, only the distant din of a hooting owl and the gentle rustle of a dusk zephyr along the forest floor. It is as if all the forest knows, except for you.
Eventually the trees give way to a clearing and you get the feeling that you do not have much further to go. The moon breaks the canopy here, making the shadows that stretch out across it all the more vivid. Two more steps, then three. Suddenly the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. A piercing chill flows down your spine, to your very core. Your skin breaks out into goose bumps as a palpable sensation of presence washes over you. It was not just the gentle breeze that was making the shadows about you move: one of them did move, you swear you saw it!
Everything is suddenly so ephemeral, distorted, disjointed. Where are you now? Is it far? Did you actually go the right way? Then you feel an unavoidable touch against the back of your left hand. You eyes jolt in that direction but catch only a fleeting shadow. Your heart beats faster. This is beginning to get disturbing. You decide to make a dash for the other side of the clearing, but when you are almost there you tripped in a divot in the ground and crashed upon the earth. A wince of pain shoots up from your elbows as you prop yourself upon your hands. A grimacing whimper emerges from your lips but you desperately tried to withhold it from bursting forth like a cacophony of squawking crows.
But as you pause to take in your needed breath you feel the twining of fingers through your rich, wild crop of hair. You fall backwards onto the ground in a fit of sudden shock while you desperately search the moonlit gloom for the culprit. You freeze. Your breathing halts. You can only stare in abject horror as a pair of red eyes stares right back at you, perched atop a dark, penumbral miasma of a form. An ice-cold, shadowy but tangible hand reaches out to smother your face. You scream, an ear splitting shriek that would have woken the living and the dead for miles around if it were not muffled so quickly.
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With a sudden jolt, the sensation of ephemerality fades. Your eyes snap open. You take a deep gasp for breath as your head flops backwards against your pillow. It was just a nightmare. None of it was real. You are at home, in your bed. It was just a dream, despite how quickly your heart beats in your chest. You sit up and cradle your knees, rocking back and forth while contemplating what just happened to you. Your gaze drifts towards the pane glass window to your left through which the moonlight beams in upon your bed.
A pair of red eyes stare right back.
wrote:Before anything else, a powerful notion burns in the mind of the viewer. Some long awaited prophecy has finally begun; and religious fervor and ecstasy spreads through every fiber of their being. This is a time of reckoning, a time of euphoria and a time of blood. Purpose and unity pulse with every heartbeat and the overwhelming emotion threatens to bring the viewer to their knees and black out. Somehow, the original experiencer managed to maintain their composture, and so the memory continues.
Only then do the rest of the senses receive anything. Gaze around; the viewer is currently inside a dark and foreboding temple, worshipping the golden effigy of an impossible being with ten heads and twenty arms, all eyes and hands risen in arrogant defiance. The other worshippers present have strange, inhuman appearances: malformed hands and animal heads, all heavily jeweled and decorated with ceremonial garbs. Through the foggy light and smoke filling the temple, their silhouettes are seen convulsing or throwing their long claws up in prayer and devotion. The darkness and their constant motions blur their exact number, as well as the size of the temple, but the beings spread beyond the dark horizon that surrounds the gathering at the center, not unlike a coliseum or stadium with thousands of bowed heads beneath a black sky. The smoke from the candles and incenses swirls in the air, dancing in hypnotic patterns with every breath as it carries alongside a mixture of candlesticks aroma, burning coals and blood. Everything combines to create an intoxicating, overwhelming sensory overload. The division between the viewer and the crowd threatens to vanish, but the original experiencer retains their will, perhaps as in show of might.
One of the other beings nearby suddenly stumbles towards the center of the temple, right at the feet of the statue, as if pushed by an otherworldly desire. The prayers and motions focus and circle around him. A fractal mandala of hands, magical lights and voices surrounds him, and slowly picks up speed as the creature at the center convulses and grabs onto the altar. Their already large and monstrous form suddenly collapses on itself- reality giving way under the pressure of Apotheosis. Clothes tear, jewels explode, armor shatters, as the being unfolds like a butterfly stepping from its cocoon. The newly resurrected god stretches out, a shockwave of divinity shaking everything and forcing everyone, even the viewer, to their knees by sheer magnitude. The blackened skies of a world ready for harvest witnesses the victorious cry of Ravana as it returns once more, thirsting for conquest and domination.
The rave is cut abruptly with an explosion of magic coming from above. The initial surprise and fear turn to intense hatred when the viewer’s eyes meet the source of this interruption: Hundreds, maybe thousands of hunters descending upon the temple grounds, winged armors shining like fireflies in the darkness and their silver spears already drawn, shimmering like moths. Your peers take off to welcome their bloodshed with zealous frenzy and before long the ceremony turns into all-out war. The newly reborn Ravana rises up to join the slaughter and the viewer follows, longing for the honor of fighting alongside the reincarnated god amidst the volley of arrows, spells, blood and prophecy. “This time” the words burn with intense desire through the viewer’s mind. “This time we will break free and rule supreme.”
It does not take long for the intervention of Ravana to stir something new amidst the mortals seeking to destroy him. For the second time, reality is forced to make way to ascension and the leader of the hunters explodes in golden light amidst a circle of warriors. From the divine ripples of light, another god steps forth: The hated one, the ancient rebel, and eternal hunter of Rakshasa. Holy arrow already drawn in a bow of daylight, Rama fires a shooting star that burns every creature on its way towards the belly of Ravana. The god king of Rakshasas deflects the deadly blow with a swift motion of his many blades, and both powers abandon reason, seeking only their mutually assured destruction. Their clash is like the collision of two worlds; brutal, merciless and obliterating. Despite their unyielding will, the original recorder of the orb is blown away at this point, which ends the stone abruptly. Their last conscious emotions of intense hatred and desperate hope burning hot enough to remain with the viewer long after the stone has been placed back.
wrote:Your tongue is assaulted by a bitter taste as you licked clean a shining metal blade that was coated in a Green Liquid, you feel your tongue tingle for a few seconds before going a little numb"Yes this will do.." You picked up a glass Vial and raised it to a small table candlelit lamp giving the green liquid a swirl, your eyes move to the table, which has a mess of what seems like blue prints, small assortments of weapons and tools of a thief, and curiously a small picture of a girl, you gazed at the picture, you feel your chest weighing you down a bit, Sorrow? You move your eyes to a small Girl Sleeping on a Crib, you walked up to the crib and kissed the forehead of the sleeping horned baby. "I don't take Jobs like these, but....i can empathize with a parent's lament.." Your slender fingers moved to grab the picture off the table, you rolled it and tucked it into your belt, letting out a nervous sigh, you make your way towards the balcony as your eyes are treated to the wonderful Zakarian Sight of a busy night market and many buildings adorned in fine stones more shining than the radiant moon itself. You pulled up a rope, held to it tightly as you jumped off the balcony descending down from it in a rapid speed, your heart races as small beads of sweat covers your neck and face, the wind brushes against your face as you descend down rapidly, landing on a cart of hay.You climbed out of the cart your heart pounding fast, your mouth manages to catch a few stands of hay which you spat out and removed, the taste bitter as if it's been treated with something, you make your way towards the Night market and blend with the crowds pushing your hood up and over your eyes and letting out a small Sigh of Excitement "And so my Job begins....."
A sigh as you continue to walk and mingle in the vast crowd of the bazaar, Your sight is treated to many Market Stalls selling a variety of spices, exotic foods, Ointments and many fine clothes and carpets made of silk, Your slender fingers brushes on the Silk Carpet as a bearded fat merchant stepped out from his stall to greet you. "Ah, Lady Helena the Carpet you've order shall arrive for you in a few cycles, you've made me a very rich man! I shall stop by your Establishment to Drink and forgot my wife with your Fine women! Haha!" Your body shudders at the last few words, a mixture of disgust and goosebumps permeates your being, nevertheless you smile for the merchant and mingled back to the crowds of the bazaar. You raise your sights as spot a child sitting on the corner, Cheap make up paints her face and the smell of cheap perfume that smelled of Cinnamon, Jasmine and Lavender the smell was faint but your nose caught the subtle scents, as you approached the Girl would smile and raise a hand speaking in a hushed tone" He's over by the gardens Lady Helena..." Your hands reached for your coin purse and flipped a coin towards the young girl, she caught it and with a flick of her wrist the coin disappeared. You walked towards a well guarded Garden gate your eyes spotted two well armed guards, you feel a rush as your heart pumped faster, her hands shook for a moment then, you clenched your fist, reached towards your belt and within a blink of an eye, Two throwing Knives flies out from your hands, killing the two guards, you hear the last gasp for air as blood gurgled out from their throats and then a silent thud. A sense of peace cascades you as you walked inside the gardens, filled with exotic plants, cactus and other desert wildlife mixed in with something from greener lands with a touch of utterly Exotic, you spotted a Violent Colour Rose filled with thorns and with a grip and a twist, the rose is picked and tucked in your belt. At the distant you see a Lone man sitting on a chair, reading his ledger you inhaled as you walked towards him, your steps touching and moving the Dirt and rocks on the ground, making a slight sound, as you move closer to him your steps go silent, you reached towards your belt and withdrew a Rapier, as you walked closer to him, with a cloth you covered his beard mouth and pierced his back, he would muffled and squirm for while, His head thuds on the table, he is paralyzed completely , the only thing that moves his chest as it expands and contracts taking in air, his breathing slows down, you opened your mouth and spoke "I've been sent here to erase you, you know what you did.." You withdrew a small portrait of a girl and laid it in front of his eyes, which would widen at the sight of the portrait, his mutters and spoke softy "if...she..only shut her mouth..., I've..wouldn't of ki~" His words are cut off as you pierced her neck and with a flick of the rapier you splatter on blood on the garden grounds, You turned around and walked towards the busy bazaar once more, picking up an Oil, whiffing it"Ah..i think i will buy this tonight, i could use this smell on myself..." Your nostrils are assaulted once more as the vision and the memory fades...
wrote: Gilded Horrors
You're greeted by an unexpected sight as you crawl out of the pure stifling darkness of a twisted Agathion warren. Having guided yourself purely by outstretch hand against treacherous uncut stone and a hope you wouldn't tumble face first into breaking your neck, you were both overjoyed and blinded by the sudden appearance of light.
It was all stunning, the dazzling brightness faded as your eyes adapted, and an opulent hallway was laid out before you. It shouldn't be a sight this lulling, and somewhere in the back of your mind rested the uneasy knowledge that this was still Pandemonium, and that you were here to destroy something by your Liege-Lady's command.
The first step into the new setting brought the stinging pain of a cut along your thigh that was too close to having bled out for comfort, and the dull ache of cracked ribs that made breathing difficult at best. Even as difficult as it was, it didn't mute the scent of acrid ozone and rotting meat that lingered in as sharp contrast to the alabaster and gild of the walls.
As you made your way further, the sound of a thrumming, drumming pulse began to fill your ears, the place had been so quiet you thought have been your own heart. But the monotonous beat seemed to twist and warp the walls around you with each consecutive step. You set your hand on the soothingly cool surface of a wall to steady yourself, and it only became more disorienting as tactile sense diverged from what you saw. The room seemed to expand and twist out into eternity, while feeling it had never grown at all. You closed your eyes to purchase focus for your thoughts, to fight through the lingering pain, and the ever increasing pungency of wrongness that was now thick enough to taste in the air.
When you opened your eyes once more, the once glamorous prison you'd stumbled into was now as decayed in appearance as it smelled. In the center of the room was was what you felt you were certainly after; a dark silhouetted figurine that rested on a dais. One more step and you instinctively recoiled your hand as you realized, in disgust, that the smoothness had been a coating of oozy grime.
That was all the alarm and warning you had before shadows like tendrils stretched out from all around you, to grasp, claw, and bind. You desperately reached for your blade, ignoring the excruciating pain that suddenly erupted from your other right leg. All held in your mind now was fear, desperation, and pleading for survival as you tried to sunder that figurine with your blade. You felt it sink in as you stumbled forward, and all those shadows vanished as quickly as they had apparated. Your consciousness was fading into a different kind of darkness, and all you could think of now was how funny your leg looked when it was upside down.
