Damned Vengeance
Posted: Sat Apr 10, 2004 7:46 am
- It happened in the darkness. The footsteps calming his screams and fear slipping into his mind. He couldn't understand it, where he'd gone wrong. Where any of them had went wrong. Camael fallen, the school left in flames. It shouldn't have been. He should have been able to do *something*! But they'd come against the gates like an unstoppable wave.
- Its defenses were brought up and bore upon them, but they weren't demons. They seemed so.. angelical. But that was their mistake. He knew it now. Where was Camael when they needed him? Atop the battlements, yes, that much he understood.
- The child, he couldn't have been over six, settled back against his wall, chains rattling along his arm. They were silver and yet he couldn't break them. Even at that age his strength should have been enough. That isn't a worry, however. He understood what lay behind that silver mask. He'd seen within the soul of the .. creature.
- A breath he drew slowly into himself and released in thought. How was he going to escape? Could he? Oh yes. He'd always been good at that. He would have to free the creature he could hear thundering in the room behind him. A creature of such power that it could be only one. The Baby.
- How did it work? That's what he doesn't understand. How did the creature manage to storm the academy successfully. THe ArchAngel Camael stood guard. The Angel who at one time had been worshipped as a WarGod. How. But he knew. Eyes fall closed and tears flow from his eyes as his head bows.
- Silence, however, follows all of this the moment a voice strikes against his ear. Oh, the voice, so soothing, so calm. It was the epitomy of what 'He' had been in a previous life. "Come now, Michael. You will be fine. In the darkness you will go, and your manhood you will find."
- Michael shook his head, a suddenly disturbed expression crossing his youthful features. "Father, how could you?" He questioned, a single question. It is the chuckling that causes his eyes to open wide for a moment, but that moment was long enough. As if by an expert blade his eyes were gone, wrenched from within, with all the pain that comes with.
- His screams issued through the darkness, out into the dungeon and the halls beyond. The Nitewaar itself heard and its own roars shook the fortress to its foundations and beyond. Nothing could be helped though, for the childs cries slipped away as a blade slowly made its way into his heart. "Sleep well, Michael. Let peace come upon you."
- Iron clad footsteps lead him from the room, the door shut behind him, and the body of the child left to rot. We are Silverwings. He speaks to the voice in his mind. We will triumph.
- A gift the eyes were, tossed as they were into the Dagger, left to lay, for any to stride upon. They were ignored by that which might have noticed.. but the man didn't care. His message was delivered in all its atrocious gore. How could you expect it to end? It still hasn't. Some things.. never change.
- Its defenses were brought up and bore upon them, but they weren't demons. They seemed so.. angelical. But that was their mistake. He knew it now. Where was Camael when they needed him? Atop the battlements, yes, that much he understood.
- The child, he couldn't have been over six, settled back against his wall, chains rattling along his arm. They were silver and yet he couldn't break them. Even at that age his strength should have been enough. That isn't a worry, however. He understood what lay behind that silver mask. He'd seen within the soul of the .. creature.
- A breath he drew slowly into himself and released in thought. How was he going to escape? Could he? Oh yes. He'd always been good at that. He would have to free the creature he could hear thundering in the room behind him. A creature of such power that it could be only one. The Baby.
- How did it work? That's what he doesn't understand. How did the creature manage to storm the academy successfully. THe ArchAngel Camael stood guard. The Angel who at one time had been worshipped as a WarGod. How. But he knew. Eyes fall closed and tears flow from his eyes as his head bows.
- Silence, however, follows all of this the moment a voice strikes against his ear. Oh, the voice, so soothing, so calm. It was the epitomy of what 'He' had been in a previous life. "Come now, Michael. You will be fine. In the darkness you will go, and your manhood you will find."
- Michael shook his head, a suddenly disturbed expression crossing his youthful features. "Father, how could you?" He questioned, a single question. It is the chuckling that causes his eyes to open wide for a moment, but that moment was long enough. As if by an expert blade his eyes were gone, wrenched from within, with all the pain that comes with.
- His screams issued through the darkness, out into the dungeon and the halls beyond. The Nitewaar itself heard and its own roars shook the fortress to its foundations and beyond. Nothing could be helped though, for the childs cries slipped away as a blade slowly made its way into his heart. "Sleep well, Michael. Let peace come upon you."
- Iron clad footsteps lead him from the room, the door shut behind him, and the body of the child left to rot. We are Silverwings. He speaks to the voice in his mind. We will triumph.
- A gift the eyes were, tossed as they were into the Dagger, left to lay, for any to stride upon. They were ignored by that which might have noticed.. but the man didn't care. His message was delivered in all its atrocious gore. How could you expect it to end? It still hasn't. Some things.. never change.