The man once heard someone saying that hope is the prison. Initially, he disagreed with the statement, considering it a fool's mumble, another moronic platitude passed by uneducated people. However, as time passed, he started noticing cracks in his oh-so-grand vision, slowly planting a seed of doubt in himself. Years later, he finally concluded that the cycle of hatred and pain was as inevitable as eternal. It was a cruel illusion to believe that it would ever stop. All the man could do was temporarily muffle or hide it under some abstract rug.
It took much effort for the man to open his eyes finally. As his eyelids slowly parted, his vision began clearing. At first, all he could see were boundless shadows surrounding and seemingly devouring him. However, this phase did not last long, which sadly did not mean the negativity left alongside the darkness.
For a brief moment, he pitied it was all but his imagination. Perhaps, in death, his shackles could have been finally dropped, making him free. Though, it was hardly a moment for such a consideration.
The man woke up on an old military bed. The mere fact made him curious, for he had no recollections of getting here the previous night. But all in all, it mattered not. Instinctively the man reached out towards his face, expecting to sense the sturdy surface of his old mask. However, his rough fingertips felt something else – his warm flesh. It took him a second to process the fact, concluding he must have discarded it at some point – a realisation he disliked.
Then, after a few prolonged moments, he attempted to get up but found himself unable to do so as his head swirled. Dissatisfied with the result, he forced another try, painfully slowly lifting his torso and sitting on the bed's edge. As his fingers entangled over its frame, he realised they were trembling, akin to prolonged sugar deprivation. Then, he stood up clumsily, needing to hug the nearest wall virtually to support his weight. A remarkably coherent curse formed in his mind, yet it was immediately discarded. It was yet another pathetic display of human fragility.
The struggle continued for the better part of the next few minutes as the man tried reaching a sink at the other side of the room. The small mirror hanging above it was dirty. Its surface was smudged with a mix of dust and some lubricant of unknown origin. A moment later, the man reached out for a nearby towel, simultaneously turning on the water. Then, in a quick sequencing, he soaked the fabric, wrung it out, and finally cleaned the smudges just enough to see his reflection.
"They call me Morgul," the man whispered unwittingly.
Morgul – a name coming from a fantasy world created in the 20th century by the English novelist J.R.R. Tolkien. An intriguing concept brought back from the jaws of eternal oblivion. All in all, it was a tragedy that creations of this magnitude were thrown away, forgotten by the ever-pushing forward humankind. Perhaps, if these punny people stopped for a moment, they would see that ignoring the past would only lead them to the inevitable repetition of their ancestors' mistakes. But, it was a futile wish, as humans would have never realised the concept; of course, not before it would have been too late.
Morgul was tall, measuring over 2 meters in height. Years ago, he had been a special operation operator, which required him to be constantly in peak condition. Even after departing from the military, he had never stopped training, improving both his body and mind. This dedication left him with a body akin to a bodybuilder, yet much more agile and durable. His unhealthy pale skin was gone, replaced with a much darker shade achieved by an uncountable number of hours spent outside honing his skills. No matter how great he felt, the passing of time had already altered his appearance. His moderately short hair of the raven down, thinned out, turning grey in some spots.
Then, he focused on his eyes, taken aback as always. They were of unusual colour – the orbs of pure silver reflecting no emotion, cold and cruel. Morgul could count all the people who had seen them and survived on the fingers of one hand. Usually, he would hide them using lively green lenses.
The next moment, the man splashed his face with ice-cold water, casting away the last remnants of sleep. It was a refreshing sensation – something he needed. Then, he pulled his hair back, utilising his still-wet hands. Somewhat content with the result, the dark-haired man reached out towards a small container, retrieving the lenses.
It was only a matter of time before his damned and haunted mind would thirst for another sin. Hence, it would be in his best interest to leave the warehouse as soon as possible, trying to do something for himself before that moment would inevitably arise.
…
Akali's POV (still-early morning):
Despite Akali's best efforts, the beast she caged deep inside her vessel stirred up, demanding to be unleashed upon this world. Sometimes, it was oh-so-easy to forget that her darker side existed, ever patient, awaiting a moment the vampire would need its strength. Throughout the years, the white-haired woman utilised that secret power only a handful of times, making sure nobody could see when something twisted inside her snapped, releasing a monster from the darkest horrors. Still, as horrifying as it sounded, reaching such a moment was inevitable – given the current situation.
The council's leader stormed through the facility, using all the secret passages she knew of to get to her safe haven as quickly as possible. Even though, technically, everything she came by was her possession, it did not feel like it. Out of the whole compound, only her office was a safe zone where her insecurities could manifest whilst all her mask could be discarded into nothingness. But, of course, there was one condition to it – nobody being in the room.
Finally, Akali got to the office, effortlessly pushing the heavy doorways aside. She sought the solitude it offered as she felt worked up, tired, and conflicted. Oh, how stupid was she – the woman groaned internally. It was an obvious mistake, staining her soul to employ emotionally into the investigation. Akin to a child so desperately wanting to prove itself, Akali had fought off her experience and better judgment, allowing her feelings to affect her decision-making. An exchange that had led her astray, giving nothing in return – except the pain and suffering.
As the door slowly closed behind her, the vampire headed towards her desk. It was a short stroll lasting less than a few seconds. Then, her dusted and dirty coat was dropped onto the wooden surface without hesitation. The piece of clothing meant nothing to her. Akali wanted to turn around and face the windows, but there was one more thing she needed to do.
Despite all the strength the vampire's hands carried, they trembled noticeably when she reached out towards a locked drawer. Her mouth went dry when the console asked for an additional passcode, as the initial authorisation was accepted. Slowly, as if in dread, the white-haired woman provided the set of numbers, repeating the process a few times, each time passing the protection layer. Finally, after a few minutes, the lock disappeared, allowing the vampire to take the drawer's content. It was a small black box wrapped with a crimson-red ribbon. A moment later, Akali untied the knot, doing it so slowly as if she performed a sacred religious ritual of sorts. A framed photograph was revealed once the lid was lifted, lying in complete darkness. It showed a woman so beautiful that she would have made the goddesses of the ancient time jealous. Unwittingly, the council's leader caressed the glassed surface, reliving her past life.
"Evelynn," a single word uttered with utmost devotion and love sounded. "How I wish you could be here with me. I am so lost and conflicted," she continued, losing herself in her lover's seemingly depthless eyes. Oh, she remembered them fondly—these orbs of molten gold, so warm and tantalising.
For a moment, it seemed inevitable for this monologue to last hours. Given the current chaotic nature of the vampire's mind, she needed to vent off the stress and speak up about the things she could not reveal to anyone. Her position and power were her burdens, setting her on such a high pedestal that she could only look downwards. There was nothing more for her to achieve or aspire to be. Driven by her self-destructive perfectionism, she reached the top, but consequently, she lost a piece of herself in the process. It was an awfully lone place where Akali regularly fought against shadows and the sheer complexity of her mind. Without the ability to rely on anyone, she had grown colder as time passed, leaving her a shell of her former self.
But unfortunately, the sounds of heavy steps started coming from a distance, making her stop. With regret imprinted on the vampire's royal face, she hid the photo, but not before planting a kiss on it. Evelynn's picture was a last resort measurement for her – rarely used and reserved only for the highest stakes.
Then, she hastily stepped away from the desk, turning around to face the glass windows. It was such a shame the Sun did not reborn yet, as the view would have been breathtaking. Throughout the years, Akali forgot that life consisted of short-lived moments that gave it meaning, a value. The white-haired woman would have paid dearly to feel that thrill once again. Cause, for her, the endless lifespan as a vampire was a never-ending nightmare. Of course, it was partially a lie, as immortality had its benefits, yet seeing friends come and go was unbelievably painful. Especially considering that Akali had never been good at goodbyes.
As the footsteps grew closer and louder, the council's leader returned to the desk, crashing hard onto her armchair. Knowing fully well that the coming discussion would be challenging, she temporarily closed her eyes, trying to utilise the moment of solitude to its fullest. She failed to vent the frustration that had slowly gathered in her for the past few days. She would need to address it soon – she realised. But for now, she could not allow the cracks in her armour to be visible to her subordinates. It would have been a tragedy if they had seen her fragile, weak. No… for them, she would have to endure. And… even though she despised wearing a mask, it was all for the greater good. Hence, she would put one on that reflected eternal confidence.
Author's notes section:
[2023-08-10]: Hey, here is a preview of the story's next chapter. Please, bear in mind that it is, as mentioned, a preview. Some parts of it might not be included in the final release. I will try to finish this chapter as soon as possible. I would like to clean up some of the tasks in my schedule, and right now, there are many chapters queued there.
[2023-08-11]: Hey, I have a minor update for you.
[2023-08-16]: Hey, another minor update applied.
[2023-08-17]: Hey, I have concluded the piece.
Please, bear in mind that this story takes place in an extremely savage universe. Hence, I will inevitably end up mentioning rapes, mutilations, cannibalism, physical and mental violence, and most likely a lot more.
Don't forget to comment. I really appreciate your feedback.
Note that the dialogues written in italic are thoughts.
As always, I would like to thank you for everything. See you soon :)
Changelog:
[2023-08-10]: A preview has been released.
[2023-08-11]: A minor update, focused on clarification and expanding the plot.
[2023-08-16]: A minor update, focused on clarification and expanding the plot.
[2023-08-17]: A major update, focused solely on finishing the piece and enriching the story.
Info: I have included more stories in the schedule as I'm not 100% certain what I want to write next. Please, keep in mind that I might add or remove positions from the list. I might rewrite some of the older stories or extract some of the longer stories from `The story of one lost soul`.
Schedule:
- The story of one lost soul (finish the WIP)
- The shadows can be deceiving (new chapter)
- Hidden in the mountain's shadow (new chapter)
- The war call (new chapter)
- The rise of the Blood Moons' servants (new chapter)
- Black Diamond (new chapter)
- When the clock is ticking (Warhammer 40k new story)
- Sometimes it's just better not to know (new chapter)
- My home is where my heart lies (rewrite chapter 4)
- The heart not so cold (rewrite chapter 2)
- The family tree (revisit the previous chapters and apply adjustments)
- Will you look past my mistakes? (new chapter)
- The silence of the shackles (new chapter)
- The broken heart (new chapter)
- The Prisoner of Your Eyes (new chapter)
- Lifetime of war (new chapter)
- Hope is the last one to die (new story in SW universe)
- See the world through my eyes (new chapter)
- Sometimes it's just better not to know (finish rewriting the second chapter)
- Life is full of surprises (new chapter)
- Exiled you say? (new chapter)
- Until my last breath (new chapter)
- The family tree (new chapter)
Bonuses' section:
A new story taking place in the Warhammer 40k universe.
Story of one lost soul: The war call: rewrite.
An entirely new story (possibly Akali x [Irelia, Syndra, Katarina]).
A new short story (Vi x Cait).
An entirely original story (possibly even two stories, one taking place in medieval times, the other in the far future)
Bleach story. (Byakuya x Yoruichi / ?)
Naruto story. (Neji x Hinata / Neji x TenTen / Nagato x Konan)
Fairy Tail story. (most likely Erza x Mira)
Maybe some Star Wars?
References:
- Megadeath - Family tree
- Shinedown - Monsters
- J.R.R. Tolkien works - Lord of the Rings
*bonuses will be worked on when I don't feel like writing the chapters pointed out in the schedule :D
End of the author's notes section.