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Post by Jeremy Amari on Jul 1, 2019 5:41:16 GMT
The clacks of a subway train passing by put Jeremy back into reality as he was pulled from his miserable thoughts. He looked over to the clock studded on the wall, seeing that this train wasn’t his, and he went back to watching the advertisements painted on the wall.
Images ran through his mind for that fateful night, the abomination hunched over him as the fire from the oil explosion burned at its carapace. The broken dead around him, their bodies decomposing as the monster’s acid left only bone. The horrible, pained screech as it fled the scene, and he saw the large hole in it’s chest before finally darkness took him. The acid burn it had given him ached as he thought about that nightmare.
No one believed him. The military thought him mad. How could he return home, to tell the families he grew with their friends and children were dead? He wasn’t even sure why he was here: A ticket had been left on his bunk, but he was sure it wouldn’t take him anywhere he wanted to go.
The sound of crying distracted him, his head turned to the other end of the station. A woman, long black hair covering her features and ragged clothes, sat against the wall with her knees to her chest. She looked homeless, but didn’t notice any cups or hat. It seemed that everyone was ignoring her, despite the desperate sob cut to his core.
He would have comforted her himself, but even breathing seemed a burden. So he looked ahead and hoped someone else would help her.
It was then he felt a weight join him on his seat. He glanced over to see a bespeckled man with a briefcase and sharp suit. Jeremy ignores him, just another traveler like him.
“Good evening Mr. Amari.” The man spoke, and the ex-soldier’s senses sharpened. He could feel his heart pound as he realized this man knew him. He slowly looked back to the man, his face hardening as he looked over the suit. Light brown hair cut short, very young, yet with a stoic look.
“Who are you?” Jeremy asked, a threat carried in the guttural sound the question carried.
“You can call me Smith. I represent an organization who’s interested in your talents,” the man spoke, and Jeremy looked at him with disgust. Was he some kind of recruiter for a black ops or private contractor? He had half a mind to grab the suit by his coat and toss him onto the tracks.
“No thanks,” was the politest way the ex-soldier could muster, and got up to leave and find anywhere else to sit.
“What you saw is called a Hollow,” Jeremy heard behind him, and he stopped in his tracks. This was two shocks in close succession, and with that particular reveal the ex-soldier was questioning what was going on. But more was his desire to know, curiosity getting to him. Questions had to be answered. “A creature born from spirits who cannot pass on, and become corrupted.”
Jeremy turned around towards Smith, anger in the soldier’s eyes as he grabbed the agent and hoisted him up so that the two were eye to eye. “Are you fucking with me?!” In the moment, when his doubt had been so great, he could dare risk being mocked.
“You’re causing a scene, Mr. Amari,” Smith calmly pointed out as he put his own hand on the one grabing him, and Jeremy let him down. “Most people cannot see a hollow, due to their spiritual nature, but you can due to your interaction with the supernatural. That is why we are interested in you.”
“How do you even know that?” Jeremy asks, before the sound of crying intensifies. Jeremy shoots a look to the woman, who had fallen to her side and seem to be writhing in fear and pain. The soldier moves over to help her, but Smith places his hand on the soldier’s chest. Despite his smaller size, he’s easily able to hold the soldier back.
“We sent you here for a test. We were the ones who left the ticket. And you passed.” The woman’s crying became frantic, leaving the soldier appalled. Why did it seem like only he could see her? Why was everyone in the station deaf to the pain he heard.
“Then what is this, a recruitment?” Jeremy asked, trying to force his way through the agent’s hand to get to the woman and help her.
Then he was left in fear as the desolate woman stood up, arms twitching inhumanly. Her head was stooped over at first before is snaps back, revealing her chest. There a broken length of chain reached into her center, the chain wriggling as if alive and rapidly dissolving. It was connected to a part of her peeling off, revealing a hole going through her. In the last moment, the piece fell away, the hole complete, and a white liquid began to cover her face.
And the screams turn to a horrid roar that he knew too well.
“No, Mr Amari,” Smith said as he opened his briefcase, revealing a submachine gun and a large combat knife, “this is your initiation.”
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Post by Jeremy Amari on Jul 1, 2019 20:41:44 GMT
The cold stone touching her skin was a horrid feeling as Remilia began to awake. She had remembered her family dragged her along some vineyard to savor the terroir of the french countryside, leaving her as mere baggage to the adults. She wasn’t even sure if the intent was talking business or getting wasted, but they certainly did plenty of both. She had, at the height of their debauchery, wandered off to find something more appropriate for he own age and slipped into town for some fun.
She was no stranger to kidnappers and those jealous of wealthy and power. She was sure she was careful when she spread around fake names, kept close to place neither too crowded or desert, and even made sure some officer was in eye’s view. But all she remembered last was a hand roughly grabbing her mouth and the smell of chemicals, then blackness. Now she was here, in fear of her situation.
Chanting took her hearing, a ring of men and woman in carmine robes, their faces obscured as the spoke the same line, in some language she didn’t know. Gone was renaissance French architecture, but a cold stone room. The walls were etched with obscene things, symbols that hurt her eyes to witness and scenes of what looked to be the birth of some winged monster. She attempted to move, only to find she was chained down to a stone slab slanted towards the ceiling, where the winged beast stared back at her.
“Let me go!” Remilia screamed, struggling against the iron clasps at her wrists, ankles, and chest. She only succeeded in digging the metal into her skin. “When my father finds me, you’ll never see the sun again! You hear me!?”
“Long have we searched for the vessel, brothers and sisters,” One man stood above the others, images of the crescent moon sewed into his hood, “and fate has provided. The day that has been prophesied, the awakening of the Lady in Red, has come! She, the Fateweaver, the Drinker of Life, the one who’s tentacles spread across the multiverse, shall come forth from the life of the vessel, and in her birth of undeath show us the way to immortality!” His speech was shouted above the chanting, which had not become fever pitch.
Fear took hold of the teenager, as she saw this these maniacs in their ritual. What were they going to do to her. She struggled even more, tears rolling down her eyes as she realized there was so much more to her life she wanted than to die alone in the company of madmen.
“I’ll give you anything!” Remilia pleaded, terror stealing the strength in her voice, “Money, power, women, just please let me go!”
The cultists did not listen to her cries, and the leader pointed to another man standing near him. Although he was quieter than the frantic nonsense of the chorus, she heard him clear as day: “Bring forth the chalice.”
A golden cup was held aloft, and the bearer walked towards her. Two other robed figures flanked Remilia, and held her head down and mouth open against her struggling. Her eyes bulged as she saw the chalice’s contents, a crimson ichor. Blood. She tried to fight against the restraints, but a hand grabbed her throat as she was forced to drink as the cusp of the chalice is tipped and the red lifeforce is poured down her throat, across her face, and on her dress.
Remilia’s vision blurred and distorted, the voices of the cultists dulled. She body no longer felt grounded, her senses beyond the earthly world. Her sight turned, but rather than the cold stone room she found a field in the night where the breeze pushed the golden wheat. A shot shattered the peace, and she turned to see a bombed out ruin of a lab around her, the screaming of the damned drowned as a man in heavy green armor fired a chaingun at some unseen enemy down a hallway. She blinked to see a wedding, standing before a shinto shrine, as a raven haired woman in a white dress stared longingly into the eyes of a blond woman with the warmest of smiles. A warning went out, and as she looked to see who was shouting saw a short and stocky man, plated in armor and showing a righteous beard, fought off a group of strong green men alongside a girl around her own age who darted in and out with a rapier. Behind the two were a smaller green man and a manic woman with white hair, who spoke strange words and moved their hands before the white haired woman launched a wave of fire into the larger green monsters.
The visions began to blur together, flashing by. Mutated men fighting gaunt and hungry ghouls as a sandstorm enveloped them, a night sky as two women fired balls of colored light at each other, life, death, war, peace, the images flew past her in a swirl in front of her. And at the focal point, a figure pushed into her sight. Hands, held back by ruby chains, pulled themselves forward. A human looking head came next, and Remilia was shocked at what she saw: Herself, pale as if drained of blood. The rest of the body came next, scarlet wings covering her sight as the pale figure moved closer to her.
The vision moved until they were face to face, the other Remilia smiling before caressing the teen’s face and smiled. Remilia screamed as she saw the long fangs across that those pearl teeth.
But as she found herself back in the basement, warm liquid dripped down her arm, she realized that screaming she heard was not her own. She looked down, seeing another figure among the cultist, a long silver sword piercing through the leader’s chest.
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Post by Jeremy Amari on Jul 1, 2019 22:13:09 GMT
The armor clad to Alex was heavy, the bronze pressed into his shoulders as hours had passed since he entered the ring of sand. His arm ached as he jabbed with his short sword, which failed to catch his opponent as the guardian stepped away. But it was the shield that was the worse. The aspis weighed him down, the large wooden disk covering his shoulder down to his knees. It almost felt like a hindrance, as is allowed him little range of moment. Yet it was the only thing keeping him alive, as his enemy was relentless, untiring, and powerful. He parried another sword blow, the bronze cover chipping and Alex was sent back a few steps.
Above him, figures framed in a great fire that lit their vistages watched him, their godly features forever cast in stone. They were silently judging him in their eternal place, awaiting the fate of this battle to see his life’s end or new beginning. The human watchers in the stands were instead left in concern as they watched the battle below them. Most of them hoped that Alex would live through this test so that he may remain a part of their lives, while the elder amongst awaited stoically for a higher purpose.
Alex’s own attention was on his opponent. Although armed the same as he was, the guardian was the exemplar of those ancient warriors, with only red eyes staring back from under the shadow of his plumbed helmet. Alex turned a sandled foot in the sand, giving him more traction as he prepared for the next attack.
“Is this the best your generation could muster?” It’s hollow voice asked. “It is no wonder you abhor glory. You are soft. Weak. Your name once mean something, and you spoil it like this.” The guardian struck again with vicious force, going for a stab to Alex’s abdomen. He threw his shield forward, throwing the sword strike away from him, only for the guardian to then follow with a kick to his gut. Alex was sent tumbling back, the taste of blood in his mouth as he felt his organs pushed inward from the attack. He was down on his back, and the ancient warrior did not let up, striking down with harrowing blows.
Alex tried to crawl away, but he found himself stuck in the loose grains as his foot only pushed sand away. He watched as the warrior try to pierce through his defenses, then rolled away as one attack stabbed through the floor. Alex got to his feet, striking at the undefended side of the warrior, but he only managed a glancing blow on stone skin.
The man was so tired. His lungs and muscles burned from fighting for so long, sweat threatened to steal his sight. His mouth was dry and cried for water, and the wounds he has had gathered already stung with each twitch. It was only through force of will he remained standing, but it would not last forever, while the ancient guardian felt no pain and no needs.
“Do you not defend yourself? Do you know I am right?” He asked. “I thought you understood the duty you family has to the world.”
“I did not ask for that duty!” Alex finally spoke, he was just as tired of this warrior as his body was of this battle “What if I do wish for this fate?” Many in the crowd held their heads down in sadness and tears, having heard this question many times before and what awaited them.
“Then you will die, and another will replace you. That is all it is.” the guardian looked to the stands, seeing a young. “Perhaps your brother? When he will come to age, he might be better than y-”
That sentence was never finished as Alex surged forth, untapped strength flowed through him as he wielded the power taught to him his whole life. As he charged, a shout from the bottom of his heart echoed through the arena and he swung his sword to batter down his opponent. The warrior was caught off guard, raising its shield to defend itself, but Alex was not aiming for the guardian’s body. The man smashed his sword into the other’s weapon, the two bronze blades shattering as the impact was too much for the weapons and the two fighters we left with only a shield.
“So there is some purpose to fight in you, I just-” But there would be no conversation. Alex gripped the top of the guardian’s aspis and forced it down, leaving the head exposed as the human raised his own above him and punched forward. The guardian attempted to catch it, but Alex’s had found something once locked away and now overflowed with strength. The bronze edge of the shield impacted with the ancient warrior’s helmet and caved it in, chips of stone dropping out from the bottom of it.
“Enough!” A man’s voice spoke from the stands, a toga wearing eldar standing above everyone else “I have seen enough.” Alex finally collapsed to one knee, the shield dropped away as he looked to the elder. “You have proven yourself, Alex Andronicus, to be the protector this family needs. But there is much for you to learn. This is someone here for you to meet.”
Alex’s eyes scanned the stands as another person stood, left stunned. A tall, blond woman looked at him with piercing eyes and a purpose.
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Post by Jeremy Amari on Jul 2, 2019 1:41:52 GMT
Lionel waited behind the curtain as he watched for the monster had been stalking the hospital. It had been here for months, unseen by anyone but him. It walked without fear through the halls as orderlies and nurses passed by it, the beast’s swagger telling the world that saw all others as below it. He had been examining it, noting the proboscis it sported from its insectoid white mask, which to his horror found that it used to suck the life from the patients. It would leave the patients weak but not dead, baffling doctors at what seemed to be some unknown plague.
But he knew this creature was the cause, feeding on the weak like a parasite, then moving onto its next victim once the last one had finally passed away. At first Lionel thought he was going mad, that whatever this abomination that killed without being seen was simply his mind not handling the death of people in since he had started learning here and the lack of sleep. But when it crashed into a cart during one of it’s walks, he knew it was real. It had a presence in reality.
That meant it could be interacted with. He just needed to know how.
He hoped someone else could see it. Or perhaps those men in black kimonos with swords would be here. A fury built up in Lionel as he thought back. It seemed he was alone, as the others at the hospital seem ignorant of it and despite the pride those “shinigami” have in themselves, they have made themselves scarce when they were needed most.
Lionel sat waiting on the empty bed for what seemed like hours. The street lights outside threw shadows over the ceiling as night came. He looked over to the stall next to him, where another patient slept. Though there was no peace for either of them, as they was another victim of this predatory demon.
The kid thought how he had gotten to this point. The youngest person to ever enter higher learning, able to understand complex compounds and medical procedures when most his age had trouble dealing with long division. He still had to go through the wringer like everyone else, but that he was here he should consider a blessing, even if it was just for job shadowing.
He always wanted to save lives. And now here he was, about to battle wits with a monster that looked as if it could crush his head with a swipe of its hand.
The door creaked, and a shadow stretched across the room as the monster arrived. It’s fragile wings shimmered in the light, but it was the only thing about it that looked weak. It’s arms seemed armored in carapace with spikes along their underside, hands that ended in hook like claws that grasped at it’s meal and prevented them from escaping. A large fleshy tube grew from it’s back, from which the tyke saw it store energy that it stole from others. It was near empty.
It closed the door behind it and shuffled over to the patient, hand delicately moving the screen as it loomed over the sleeping person. It was then that Loinel stood and opposed the beast with his presence.
“You should leave,” Lionel said aloud, he had gotten the monster’s curiosity. It seemed unsure he had been spotted, perhaps this child’s outburst was one of play, but it was sure when Lionel stepped forward and pointed at the parasite. “I mean you, monster.”
Insect wings twitched, and although it had no noticeable mouth the child could see it’s body language almost bounce in happiness.
“Should I now?” It spoke, which shocked Lionel. He did not think it could, but then what he thought was normal didn’t mean much at the moment “Child, you have no place here.”
“You prey on the weak,” Lionel stepped forward, anger scratched his face and he balled his fist. He hated to be underestimated because of his age, and despite the obvious power difference he had a look that spoke of no fear. “It is my place to protect others”
“The powerful always prey on the weak. That is simply how life is. I shall give you that lesson, child, and you should learn it less your naivety kills you,” it threatened. “The sick and dying cause no comotion when they died suddenly, I will drain as well if you stand against me. It matters not.”
“Did you not realize why you’re here?” Lionel smiled as he stared up at the beast.
“Is this some kind of riddle? Do you think I’ll leave if I can’t answer? You are beginning to get on my nerves.” It stepped threateningly, hook claws raised.
“I’ll tell you then” Lionel looked it dead in the eyes “You’re here because I want you to. I had been observing your every move. I had one of your victims moved here, the one you were planning on feeding on next. You always cycle through your victims, allowing them to recover before you feed on them again. Your actions are predictable.”
“Clever. But that cleverness has lead you to an early grave!” It charged forward to tear Lionel apart, only for one of it’s legs to suddenly give out and it crashed to the tile floor. “W-w-what?! Impossible!”
“What did I just say?!” Lion stepped forward again, his hand reaching towards a small box left on a stand. Inside was a medical hammer, the only thing big enough to really hurt someone. “I knew who your victims were, and I knew where you’d be. I injected them with small compounds, not enough to harm them but I recorded the effects on you. What I did might have broke several moral codes, but what I learned let me make a compound that’s been vented into this room the second you closed that door!”
It tried to get up, weakly clawing at Lionel. Although weakened, it could still kill the child with ease.
“I will not be defeated by a child!” It got back to its feet shakily, and loomed over Lionel. It looked down on him, and raised an arm up to strike “I will not die here!”
“I told you to leave. This is your own fault,” Lionel answered, and impeded the hammer in the hollow’s mask.
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Post by Jeremy Amari on Jul 2, 2019 2:29:07 GMT
A jazz band played a thumping tune from the other side of the room, a crowd cheering and dancing as they lost their ambitions to the music, men in sharp suits watching on. Five teenagers watched on as they enjoyed the scene, a strange comradery between the desperate and the gifted. Man and woman. Black and white. The kids weren’t supposed to be here, but then none of them were since the laws were enacted.
“So you guys saw it too?” Lee said as he took a sip of some sour drink. Some of the veteran patrons said to watch out with drinking too much, since they were not quite the safest brew. Said in hushed tones of course, as the owner of the club and his steely “associates” watched for wise guys. “The devil! Fighting the grim reaper! I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”
“We saw it too, Lee” Kaida said as she took a sip of her own. She watched the band as she slowed down “We felt it, even. That… I don’t even know what to call it. It was like gravity!”
“I didn’t think the grim reaper you fight with a sword. And he almost looked like he was wearing my papa’s bathrobe,” Reggie thought on it. “But I’m happy you all were safe.”
“The reaper has been depicted with swords before, meant to take nobles when the scythe was for peasants ” Joline answered, adjusting her glasses “It’s the so called demon I’m having a hard time with. It doesn’t look anything depicted anywhere.”
“Don’t go correcting a man like that, Joline,” Lee shot back. “Besides, you read too much of the supernatural stuff. You’ll get everyone damned with it.”
“Now now, that’s not what we're talking about,” Keith spoke, keeping the two from bickering again. It helped that he saw the oldest. “The question is what do we do? It’s not as if we can tell our parents.”
“We’ll look into it ourselves.” Reggie blurted out. Everyone looked to him. “I mean, it’ll be like a quest, or an adventure.” Most everyone rolled at this, and yet everyone’s curiosity got them.
“I’ve been feeling… different after that scene. And I don’t think it’s the cocktail” Keida said “I think something has happened to us, and now we have a chance to find out more about our world. And I’d rather not waste it. So I’m in favor of Sir Reginald’s idea.” the large man blushes as Keida uses her nickname of him, as well as Joline.
“So familiar, in public!” She covers her red face, getting a laugh from Keida.
“I see that there’s no objections. We’ll solve this mystery.” She held her hand in, and everyone followed suit as they started something, a collected swing sealed their new calling.
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