Look dear reader. Look as the words flow through this text, for really what
you are not seeing is scribbles on a scroll, but a picture painted within
your mind. Look, as the city of Vivec with the sun nearing its afternoon
decline became a city of terror. Watch as the world of the dark Dumner
transforms into an even darker nature. Watch as the red of the fire glare
reflecting from the ocean glaze blind your eyes, a symbol of the incoming
doom.
Children screamed. Men and Mer ran from the deadly disease. Bodies of dead flesh followed them. The inodori saw of course, but they could do little against such a large foe. The inodori were the ordinators, the peacekeepers, but what could they do in a time of war? Because in the end, this is a war. It began in the inside and slowly spread to the outside, the same way poison can spread throughout the body, except in the case of poison, it dilutes, this does not - it becomes stronger and stronger as each man or women or child falls victim to the disease.
In the case of the ordinary ordinators, he perhaps is exposed to a similar fate as anyone else. He may struggle, he may attack furiously against the disease, but he is only mortal - a mortal who is trained in the deadly arts but nevertheless mortal. The vampires are not. He, in the end, will tire, and then vampires will surround him. And as each muscle within him loses to fatigue, the ring will grow tighter. Finally, when all his muscles fail, then the ring will at last tighten into a small point of light - and out comes a scream of death like every other mortal life surrendered to the dead flesh.
You see these things and you must wonder. Where are the gods in all this? Could the Aedra princes be so lackadaisal as to allow an entire race to be extinguished like a lightened candle smothered by an enormous wind? Then again, you might ask, where were they when the dwarves disappeared? And if you can't answer the question or the answer itself is too saddening to utter, then you must resign yourself to watch the deaths of many before your eyes.
But no - They aren't deaths!
They are, in fact, transformations . of the soul. If only you could see what the gods could see, then you'd be amazed at the happenings so far, so much more amazed than your wide-eyed scared face tells you even now. What do you see? You see a city, with flames flickering in each of its buildings. You see magic uncontrolled. You see the destruction of Vivec in a fiery inferno, crushing millennia old statues in a stampede. What do the gods see? The gods see an inferno of souls.
That's right. What had come from a simple bar where the bacteria, Porphyric Hemophilia, had been planted was now available citywide. It had spread like any other epidemic.
The eyes of gods scan the living inhabitants of Vivec, and all that comes to them is pain and anguish, followed by a great smoke vanquishing; except, instead of ash, it was the cry of souls. Yet still. the gods remain unmoved. Perhaps you might be different. Look dear reader, watch the suckling of blood, watch the death screams as scared eyed creature (much like yourself) run through the burning streets of Vivec. Why? For plundering behind them are thousands of dead-eyed creatures, with souls trapped within - unfortunate.
What did it feel like for the souls of the dead? What did it seem to its insufferable agony, when they watched its body move without movement, without control? What did it seem, as its body chased a frightened child and roamed the streets searching for blood? What did it seem, when it grappled the writhing body of the hapless victim, screaming in utter horror, eyes in dismay, in search of peace that would never be there. It must have been like a nightmare for the victim, to be in one of those dreams where one is chased, and then finding one' self trapped in a dark corner away from all chances of help, and surrounded by a frightful predator whose eyes glance solely at your neck, and being able to see their horrifying approach through the grounds in which you'll most assuredly will die, and see their gaits motion slowly slowly towards that point in which your life will be taken. yes, time must be very slow for those who are about to loose their life. Perhaps hell isn't a hell of deep darkness; perhaps hell depends solely on the individual in question. For those who wish to live on, perhaps hell is the tedious repetition of the last moments in which the victim breathed his last breath, or the tedious moments when the individual sees all around him - all his loved ones casting images of sorrow at his nearly dead body, and destined to watch it all over and over, again and again. Then again, hell might be the moment in life when a lover is wretched away forever from his arms.
Think of what a being must feel when he sees over and over again the small seconds in which he catches the slightest glimpse of his lover's cloth, but without the face or any other part of the body, think of what if must be to him - destined to see the small departing figure of true love disappearing over the last hills, into a war in which will never be survived. What must it feel for the individual in hell - his hell - to see the waving arms of his lover and her eyes and that lovable smile but knowing those eyes see nothing but a mere departing, not knowing it will be the last departure.
Perhaps that is hell for some.
There are other forms of hell, too. One must wonder, though, which is worse? To be inside the victim, or to bare witness to a thousand deaths caused by a body that you once controlled? There are hells for the souls trapped within the body of a ravaging predator. How do you weight the burden upon those souls, after seeing death upon death caused by its own hands? What does it feel like to be inside a vampire? Is it like a coma? Instead of simply being able to hear small fragments of the living world, one can hear and smell and see every small detail - and do nothing about it. Yes, it must certainly be a torturous hell for each vampire - not the vampire itself of course, but the souls trapped inside the one-way glass.To watch as your body stretches out its arms for the victim, whose arms are pushed out to you, chanting in a pale futile mercy - "Spare me! Spare me! But the gods, I don't want to die!" Frightened, he sees through the one- way pane an eye of deadly hallow, never knowing that there's soul hidden very deep behind those eyes returning the same agonized gaze.
Then watch as those outstretched hands are bludgeoned by your sharp claws, which simply reap those weak mortal limbs away like chicken bone. And revealed to you is his hoary face; Your victim's body is exposed; his screaming changes to a higher echelon of fear; he stops pleading, instead he lays still, motionless, paralyzed, he seems to pray with his lips; you see his blood wretched eyes staring at your blood-suckling teeth. And as you close that final distance, his lips pale; his face is white. You see the blank expression your victim reveals to you at that moment when your arms are enclosed around his neck, and your jaw dig deeper and deeper into his veins, and as his arms no longer flail against your body like that of a wing on a impaled insect, at that moment - it's as if you - the soul trapped within the monstrous predator - you witness the unfolding of your victim's life along with the flow of the blood sucked out of him.
And then, as your victim's blood trickles to a slow pump, and his heart gives that one last weak push, what possible remorse can compete with the remorse you feel as you lick your lips clean of that last rich taste of copper?
There is hell, most certainly. And for the soul of a roaming vampire, this is it. Ah, to be in Vivec at this time is a sorrowful thing. There is no escape.
--
Arulen heard the noises, she did. They were there. There was nothing to do but hear them as long as they were there. In her mind, she wondered what she could have done to save them. The guilt, perhaps, ate at her. She wondered what might have happened if she shouted to the gathering, told them something bad was coming. If she had pulled on Jiandar's robe, then maybe he would have listened. To no use. there's no point in thinking of this, she thought, amazed at how calm she now felt. They were dead, now. Or were they?
She loved Jiandar. She truly did. But all the love had been broken when she felt that feeling coming from those dark shadows. The truth? Fear can break love. For the first four days, she hid herself away from those terrible, brutal screams. Of women, children, and men alike. The children's screams were especially the worse. To Arulen's natural mother complex, hearing children scream was the same as hearing the death of a loved one. They were sharp pitched, sharper than the screams of grown men and women. No doubt they were meant to alert more senses in those who heard, to propel those with ears into aid. Because as children, they could not defend themselves, and evolution made them so they developed a scream to match their more vulnerable state. Which alerted Arulen's motherly heart, more than anything else.
But she resisted that natural desire to come out in aid, for she of course, would be helpless against a vampire. The children were as good as dead, she shuddered when she thought of this. Even a man could not fend of a vampire, and in order for one to battle against the unholy might, one either had to be an imperial soldier, an excellent one at that, or an Inodori bladesmaster. A woman on the other hand, a simple person, lacked the physical strength, which the vampire could channel through its veins.
On the fifth day, she along with many others - made a break for the open. The sun was high, so she remembered the saying, "Sunning sky makes no vampire nigh."
She along with a mother carrying a child and several other dark skinned Mer ran outside of Vivec. It was a sad thing to be in Vivec at this time. But it was an even sadder thing when it rained, for where it rained, the sun did not shine. And without the sun to protect the mortal living, the undead could roam freely. There were many who ran for the open plains, but the undead only caught up to them eventually. The vampires with their unholy strength could outdistance any mortal man or mer, when it rained. When it rained, they were free.
It was bad enough to have them in Vivec. For Vivec is a roofed city, and sun never shines below the roof. The only place safe during the day is the platforms and railings outside. That was the past. The rain changed everything. Now, nowhere was safe from the vampires.
Yet, still they continued to run outside of Vivec, unknowing that at one point, the vampires with their unholy strength would eventually catch up. No life can escape the undead life.
Children screamed. Men and Mer ran from the deadly disease. Bodies of dead flesh followed them. The inodori saw of course, but they could do little against such a large foe. The inodori were the ordinators, the peacekeepers, but what could they do in a time of war? Because in the end, this is a war. It began in the inside and slowly spread to the outside, the same way poison can spread throughout the body, except in the case of poison, it dilutes, this does not - it becomes stronger and stronger as each man or women or child falls victim to the disease.
In the case of the ordinary ordinators, he perhaps is exposed to a similar fate as anyone else. He may struggle, he may attack furiously against the disease, but he is only mortal - a mortal who is trained in the deadly arts but nevertheless mortal. The vampires are not. He, in the end, will tire, and then vampires will surround him. And as each muscle within him loses to fatigue, the ring will grow tighter. Finally, when all his muscles fail, then the ring will at last tighten into a small point of light - and out comes a scream of death like every other mortal life surrendered to the dead flesh.
You see these things and you must wonder. Where are the gods in all this? Could the Aedra princes be so lackadaisal as to allow an entire race to be extinguished like a lightened candle smothered by an enormous wind? Then again, you might ask, where were they when the dwarves disappeared? And if you can't answer the question or the answer itself is too saddening to utter, then you must resign yourself to watch the deaths of many before your eyes.
But no - They aren't deaths!
They are, in fact, transformations . of the soul. If only you could see what the gods could see, then you'd be amazed at the happenings so far, so much more amazed than your wide-eyed scared face tells you even now. What do you see? You see a city, with flames flickering in each of its buildings. You see magic uncontrolled. You see the destruction of Vivec in a fiery inferno, crushing millennia old statues in a stampede. What do the gods see? The gods see an inferno of souls.
That's right. What had come from a simple bar where the bacteria, Porphyric Hemophilia, had been planted was now available citywide. It had spread like any other epidemic.
The eyes of gods scan the living inhabitants of Vivec, and all that comes to them is pain and anguish, followed by a great smoke vanquishing; except, instead of ash, it was the cry of souls. Yet still. the gods remain unmoved. Perhaps you might be different. Look dear reader, watch the suckling of blood, watch the death screams as scared eyed creature (much like yourself) run through the burning streets of Vivec. Why? For plundering behind them are thousands of dead-eyed creatures, with souls trapped within - unfortunate.
What did it feel like for the souls of the dead? What did it seem to its insufferable agony, when they watched its body move without movement, without control? What did it seem, as its body chased a frightened child and roamed the streets searching for blood? What did it seem, when it grappled the writhing body of the hapless victim, screaming in utter horror, eyes in dismay, in search of peace that would never be there. It must have been like a nightmare for the victim, to be in one of those dreams where one is chased, and then finding one' self trapped in a dark corner away from all chances of help, and surrounded by a frightful predator whose eyes glance solely at your neck, and being able to see their horrifying approach through the grounds in which you'll most assuredly will die, and see their gaits motion slowly slowly towards that point in which your life will be taken. yes, time must be very slow for those who are about to loose their life. Perhaps hell isn't a hell of deep darkness; perhaps hell depends solely on the individual in question. For those who wish to live on, perhaps hell is the tedious repetition of the last moments in which the victim breathed his last breath, or the tedious moments when the individual sees all around him - all his loved ones casting images of sorrow at his nearly dead body, and destined to watch it all over and over, again and again. Then again, hell might be the moment in life when a lover is wretched away forever from his arms.
Think of what a being must feel when he sees over and over again the small seconds in which he catches the slightest glimpse of his lover's cloth, but without the face or any other part of the body, think of what if must be to him - destined to see the small departing figure of true love disappearing over the last hills, into a war in which will never be survived. What must it feel for the individual in hell - his hell - to see the waving arms of his lover and her eyes and that lovable smile but knowing those eyes see nothing but a mere departing, not knowing it will be the last departure.
Perhaps that is hell for some.
There are other forms of hell, too. One must wonder, though, which is worse? To be inside the victim, or to bare witness to a thousand deaths caused by a body that you once controlled? There are hells for the souls trapped within the body of a ravaging predator. How do you weight the burden upon those souls, after seeing death upon death caused by its own hands? What does it feel like to be inside a vampire? Is it like a coma? Instead of simply being able to hear small fragments of the living world, one can hear and smell and see every small detail - and do nothing about it. Yes, it must certainly be a torturous hell for each vampire - not the vampire itself of course, but the souls trapped inside the one-way glass.To watch as your body stretches out its arms for the victim, whose arms are pushed out to you, chanting in a pale futile mercy - "Spare me! Spare me! But the gods, I don't want to die!" Frightened, he sees through the one- way pane an eye of deadly hallow, never knowing that there's soul hidden very deep behind those eyes returning the same agonized gaze.
Then watch as those outstretched hands are bludgeoned by your sharp claws, which simply reap those weak mortal limbs away like chicken bone. And revealed to you is his hoary face; Your victim's body is exposed; his screaming changes to a higher echelon of fear; he stops pleading, instead he lays still, motionless, paralyzed, he seems to pray with his lips; you see his blood wretched eyes staring at your blood-suckling teeth. And as you close that final distance, his lips pale; his face is white. You see the blank expression your victim reveals to you at that moment when your arms are enclosed around his neck, and your jaw dig deeper and deeper into his veins, and as his arms no longer flail against your body like that of a wing on a impaled insect, at that moment - it's as if you - the soul trapped within the monstrous predator - you witness the unfolding of your victim's life along with the flow of the blood sucked out of him.
And then, as your victim's blood trickles to a slow pump, and his heart gives that one last weak push, what possible remorse can compete with the remorse you feel as you lick your lips clean of that last rich taste of copper?
There is hell, most certainly. And for the soul of a roaming vampire, this is it. Ah, to be in Vivec at this time is a sorrowful thing. There is no escape.
--
Arulen heard the noises, she did. They were there. There was nothing to do but hear them as long as they were there. In her mind, she wondered what she could have done to save them. The guilt, perhaps, ate at her. She wondered what might have happened if she shouted to the gathering, told them something bad was coming. If she had pulled on Jiandar's robe, then maybe he would have listened. To no use. there's no point in thinking of this, she thought, amazed at how calm she now felt. They were dead, now. Or were they?
She loved Jiandar. She truly did. But all the love had been broken when she felt that feeling coming from those dark shadows. The truth? Fear can break love. For the first four days, she hid herself away from those terrible, brutal screams. Of women, children, and men alike. The children's screams were especially the worse. To Arulen's natural mother complex, hearing children scream was the same as hearing the death of a loved one. They were sharp pitched, sharper than the screams of grown men and women. No doubt they were meant to alert more senses in those who heard, to propel those with ears into aid. Because as children, they could not defend themselves, and evolution made them so they developed a scream to match their more vulnerable state. Which alerted Arulen's motherly heart, more than anything else.
But she resisted that natural desire to come out in aid, for she of course, would be helpless against a vampire. The children were as good as dead, she shuddered when she thought of this. Even a man could not fend of a vampire, and in order for one to battle against the unholy might, one either had to be an imperial soldier, an excellent one at that, or an Inodori bladesmaster. A woman on the other hand, a simple person, lacked the physical strength, which the vampire could channel through its veins.
On the fifth day, she along with many others - made a break for the open. The sun was high, so she remembered the saying, "Sunning sky makes no vampire nigh."
She along with a mother carrying a child and several other dark skinned Mer ran outside of Vivec. It was a sad thing to be in Vivec at this time. But it was an even sadder thing when it rained, for where it rained, the sun did not shine. And without the sun to protect the mortal living, the undead could roam freely. There were many who ran for the open plains, but the undead only caught up to them eventually. The vampires with their unholy strength could outdistance any mortal man or mer, when it rained. When it rained, they were free.
It was bad enough to have them in Vivec. For Vivec is a roofed city, and sun never shines below the roof. The only place safe during the day is the platforms and railings outside. That was the past. The rain changed everything. Now, nowhere was safe from the vampires.
Yet, still they continued to run outside of Vivec, unknowing that at one point, the vampires with their unholy strength would eventually catch up. No life can escape the undead life.