A production by Tiger Dauthi
Chapter 4: Interlude: Wings of Fire
The world is not a fair place. It doesn't give second chances, doesn't allow it. And thus, it depends on the people to adapt, to try to make the world as fair as possible. It depends on the people to create morals to live by, to make a second chance. It depends on the person, to get what he wants the most...
~*~*~
/Why is it so dark here?/
Indeed, his surroundings were a pitch black, so that he couldn't see his hands right in front of him. The only feeling he had was a light breeze blowing against his face. Otherwise there was nothing. Not even the ground he was standing on really seemed there.
/Oh right, I'm dead./
But even death should not be like this, a yawning emptiness of boredom. Boredom was even worse than pain, to him. Then again, obviously, he couldn't know what death was like.
Suddenly, a stream of fire arose, enveloping him. He could see! Although there was nothing much to see, the darkness still smothering most of the area. But at least - looking down, he saw that he really wasn't standing on anything - he was floating. He tried taking a step foward. The column of fire moved along with him, but all was the same as before; The darkness had no end.
He yelled. The sound started out loud and clear, but as soon as it hit the darkness it dissipated. Apparently, even having this column of fire was not going to help anything. He started walking.
It was funny how, when in total boredom he could not think of anything except how bored he was, yet when Kraden had been droning on about some subject or another he was always daydreaming. Which reminded him, where was Kraden? That old bastard, running off and leaving them three teenagers to fend for themselves. If he didn't die this time, he'd get caught one day or another taking another risky venture- and it'd serve him right. But he shouldn't fume over Kraden right now, it'd have no use, and besides, he had plenty of time in the future to do it.
A pain suddenly shot up at him through his ankle. Somehow, he'd twisted it when walking... And that twisted ankle was pulled by a vacuum, sucking him under from the hole that surfaced in a sheet of nothing.
He was reminded of the initial pain he'd felt from the stone falling on him, the injuries reappeared on his body, the person, Jenna...
~*~*~
When he came to, he was not in some sort of limbo anymore. Well, perhaps he still was, but it was not limbo in the sense that he imagined, in the sense like the previous... plane, he decided to call it.
There were things now. A wall of granite stretched before him, and a ring of fire surrounded him. His own column of fire had dissipated, though that was but a small matter. But... nothing else.
Yet he couldn't shake off the feeling, that this place was... evil. Haunted, some would say. As if waiting to eat him alive. And then he saw it.
The firelight reflected faintly of the parts of its bones not caked with mud. The figure was disformed - the skull was cracked, and its left arm was twisted impossibly. The leg, as well, was bent inwards. It was walking though, walking towards him.
A low rumbling sound filled the place, as he saw the bones, skeletons, marching along; the moving piles of sludge, rotting feces trudging; a high howl, and then triple-tailed brown wolves leaped towards him, red eyes glowing with delight.
He screamed, and retreated unto himself, curling up into a ball.
He musn't die, he couldn't die, he didn't deserve this...
Yes, he was dead. But a second, a third death were no less horrifying than the first...
The wolf got there first, and leaped. He cringed, and a flash of red covered his eyes.
This... was hell...
~*~*~
The beast rose in front of him. Fangs dripping with saliva, horns protruding out, eyes glowing, black armor shining, even in the darkness.
Instinctively he knew that this was it. This was the monster that controlled everything, from this dark pit to the ghastly hands that stole from the living world. The odor it exuded, the attitude it presented... No one else was every like this.
Except... it was a bit similar... No. That would never be possible.
*But yes.*
The silence became pregnant, and he struggled to remember the name of that... that person...
*He has been forgotten.*
It was just a simple statement, a fact. But to him it was as if something had *died*, right then and there. To be forgotten... Is worse than death...
*She has been forgotten.*
And this was not possible. He could not forget *her*, she was too important. But he had. He thought about her face and found he couldn't recall it. Her personality and found he couldn't remember. Her warmth, he couldn't feel it...
All that was left to him was a name.
/Jenna./
*She has been forgotten.*
The sentence was repeated again, as if to throw another heavy blanket over his mind, covering it forever. There was nothing strange about the sentence itself, only the malice that pressed behind it. It couldn't pierce the tiny cocoon that he had created for himself though. He wouldn't forget.
*She has been-
/NO!/
Fire. Dancing. The blinding rays of light struck him, and the demon silently retreated. He would not forget. He did not know her, did not know her face, did not know her person. But he knew her name, and so he would find her.
/Jenna! I'm coming for you!/
Lolz, I wonder if you guys still remember me... so Hi! Okay, that sounded stupid. Anyway, muses-
Kamui: That was stupid.
...
Garet: What in the world was that?
Okay, so maybe it was kinda rushed. And its really really short. But I lost the half-finished copy of this I had somewhere, so I had to restart, and it came out completely differently from what I imagined. Ah, the beauty of writing!
Garet: *snort* *snort* *snort*
Kamui: Pig...
Garet: Why you... *proceeds to do fancy poses that make him fall over*
Ehehe... Well, I'm not gonna reply to reviews now, because this story's like, what, eight months old by now? I'll say thanks to Mikaa though, because without another e-mail complaining about my sluggishness I think I would've taken another year. (You know, I told Mikaa to wait another year, because I have a life now. My life's gone bye-bye again, heh) And now, after seeing all those good (and not so good, rather terrible) stories on GS, I'm ready to write again! Not much though, just finish stories. I suck at finishing stories.
And finally, I will say: Go Read Mikaa's Parallel! It's actually pretty good. And yes, I'm doing advertising because I feel like it. And read Midnight C and Triad Orion's stories too, because you shouldn't be wasting your time loafing around on these pointless stories. Then again, you've probably already read them. And if you hate Mudshipping, er... Come to think of it, when was the last time I read a story not Mudshipping? Glkagh.(New word)
And finally finally, yes I know my writing style's really weird. Completely different from everyone elses. Haha, bye!