Chapter One – Intro
For many years ago I met this man that went by the name of Leon, he said he was a reporter for some weird news paper, why I am telling you this, you might wonder but as it sometimes goes he went insane, he lost it, his whole life flushed in the drain.
A couple of years ago, back when he was still sane, he told me about his travels, his adventures to a city by the name of Capricornia.
However the stories I were told were lies, well maybe not entirely lies but he told me only the jiffs of the story, what I later found out would rock the foundation of my life forever, people told me he was crazy, that he were sick, however with the things he experienced I couldn't see why anyone wouldn't.
Leon was this little guy, he didn't say much and when he finally did his voice was so compromised that you wouldn't be able to hear much, he had a daughter and a wife and lived in a little city north to Copenhagen.
When his boss said he had to get ready for an assignment, he didn't know what he had just begun, he began reading up on the city, but couldn't find much information, he asked around Copenhagen to maybe get some knowledge but no one had ever heard of the city.
At about nine P.M in august he left by plane to a little island in the south of America, he traveled in ninety hours by train, two hours by bus, until he reached a little city north of Capricornia.
Here he was greeted by an old man, with no teeth, his eyes didn't glow and he was bleeding as well, however this wasn't going to stop Leon, he drove away with old man and arrived at Capricornia 4 hours later at night, as the old man stopped the car he went out and went away leaving Leon alone in the center of the city.
Before we begin the story, I want to recite to you some sentences his wrote right before he went insane, as you might have guessed the sentences might not mean anything but trust me, in the end they will so please listen.
All alone, nine is two, three is eight, the sun is the moon, we are alone, blood dripping down on the floor, one is nine, two is three, whatever it might be, I am all alone, blood dripping.
The book of time, the ocarina of voice, a nameless pet, a dead poet, that might be met, eight is one, nine is two, three is five, the moon is dead, the sun destroyed, the blood dripping.
Eyes that watch, the cloth thrown at one's mind, oh how ye can be kind, eight is one, ten is nothing, lies is two, three is four, nothing is called for, the blood dripping.
Soldiers of fortune, is that even a tribune, oh how I forget, what I might not bet, one is eight, one is nine, one is one, but even not two, oh I forget, one is nine, or two or the blood dripping.
What I am? One, two, three, four, five, eight, nine, ten, the moon, the sun, the blood, help me what I am?
Thus Begins – Tale Of The Unholy Sun