Dealthagar/Blood Red Emerald Green Ash Grey
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Contents |
Blood Red, Emerald Green, Ash Grey
Part 1
Dealthagar gently twisted in the air at the whim of the currents and drafts in his house. The harness met at a single point a few feet above his head, and connected to a single ring on the end of a universal joint bolted to the cieling. The spiderweb of cables ended in barbed hooks, that were bit into his flesh in various points along his back arms and legs, suspending him in a floating position. He had long since grown numb to the pain as the blisters seared across his skin. Save a small sample of the cure he kept to analyze, Sularis had done a good job of coating his wounds with it. He wasn't sure if injesting it was truly needed, but if the cure didn't work as stated, he'd make up for it later.
He'd make up for it later anyhow. He'd pull off her face and use it to...
It didn't matter. She'd suffer. No use in planning it. it would be better to make her suffer in ways he hadn't imagined.
Such a simple night. It had been beautiful then gone to hell. The betrayal burned. It burned worse than any disease or rash or wound. The only thing that had been worse was the blow to his ego. They had played him. His vengance would be terrible....but not swift. No, he'd savor it. It would be delicious. Better than anything he had experienced. Better than the taste, better than the anticipation of the taste as his teeth broke the skin...
Such a beautiful night...
---
"Moonglow tavern? It could be fun." Dealth sat and brushed his hair, pulling the stiff bristles unmercifully through the tangled mess of red.
"I thought you might like it." Drayek stood in the doorway of thier chambers. He could feel her eyes on his back. "When you're ready, we can go. I'd like to get a table again."
Nodding, Dealthagar rose. He adjusted the waistband of his flowing pants and obi. The cage he had implanted in his stomach wouldn't have been visable to most, but the added layer of camoflage gave him a bit of comfort. "I'm ready."
Her eyes darted to the shirt on the floor then back to his bare chest, raising an eyebrow. She shrugged almost impercievably and opened a gate.
They had gotten there just in time. Within a few minutes, the room had filled with faces familiar and unfamiliar. Drayek had been oddly quiet, so he went about amusing himself with the patronage of the tavern. A conversation overheard and engaged with lead him to believe it was perhaps time to settle things with Stonegate and bury the hatchet. They were warriors, and Umbra was a city of scholars, artists and philosophers. Perhaps a way of mending fences was called for, and civil conversation was the first step.
But the woman at the bar had caught his attention. it was the eyes. He loved eyes. Expressive, deep, delightful...eyes were a window into the soul. And the shock green of her large expressive eyes sucked him in. He wanted her. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to experience her.
It was one of the most foolish things he had ever done.
Part 2
As the colors in the room swam and the walls undulated, Dealthagar thrashed, the hooks tearing his flesh. The pain was a welcome companion. Physical pain was endurable. It was an enemy he could resist, he could better. Pain gave him focus. Pain was a filter that let him see the truth, see the world as it was.
See betrayers for the worms that they were.
---
"No! You'll kill me and eat me!"
Dealthagar grinned. It wouldn't win him any points with the girl, but her hysterics were amusing. His cannibalism was a matter of public record, but apparently she thought all of Umbra hungered for human flesh.
He loved the fear. He craved it. And she fed that desire.
---
He thrashed harder, letting the blood flow freely. Her fear had been a LIE! It was all a terrible sick joke! He screamed at the marble tiles, his blood dripping like tears of rage, a testament to his stupidity.
How could he bee so FOOLISH? The walls laughed alabaster at him, in on the sick joke all played out before him like little pieces on a broken chess board made of equal parts of filth and sick and betrayal.
His vision blurred, and doubled, each point of light shattering into a thousand crystals of myriad colors, all laughing at the joke of which he was the punch line. He imagined them in her little room together, laughing at their little joke, watching him jump like an animal ever trying to catch the carrot on the end of the stick, always out of reach. Dance little puppet, dance. Dance for your maker, dance for your replacement, dance for Oblivion. The joke is on you, Herald.
He howled like a wounded animal, the frenzy in his chest building. Feeling the beast rise, he thrashed harder, entangling his arms and legs in the cabling. They looked smooth, but in truth, there were hundreds of tiny catching barbs the lengths of the strands. They hooked his flesh, they hooked each other, and soon he was six feet closer to the ceiling, but restrained in a criss---crossing net of pain and misery that was flavored with the bitter tears of his own self doubt.
If he got free, and the beast cut loose, who knew what he would do? He couldn't afford ANOTHER FAILURE! His heart beat irregularly, threatening to burst through his chest, screaming at the cage of flesh he dared to keep it in when all it wanted was to eat and feed and consume and devour and freedom and it wanted out and it loved him if he would only set it free and let him out to eat and devour and feed and be freeplease it wanted please so little it would just eat a little and then his heart would come home it begged and tormented him his failure his heart eating...
He screamed long and hard, his face distending with rage. He would tear them APART grind their bones to powder burn their remains to ash give them to Oblivion for this indignity! He was the HERALD OF OBLIVION! He was a GOD GIVEN FLESH AND HUNGER and he would eat their very ESSENCE!
Somewhere, a stab of pain pulled him back. The beast recoiled. A hook had come loose and had caught on one of his eyes. The rush of cold air to his skull as it pulled the false organ from the socket gave him momentary focus.
Focus. Find a point. Find a joy. Find solace.
---
She leaned against the wall, her eyes looking at him in a slight haze. She was aroused. Reading her aura wasn't needed, her body language told him all he needed to know. Her name was Madelyn, she was beautiful and she wanted his "kiss".
In her own way, she was as much a predator as he was. She knew what she wanted, and who she wanted it from. A half dozen Umbrans in the bar, and she was in his space first. Her voice had been a passionate whisper when she asked "Are you one of them?"
The brown eyes and caramel skin belied her Rom origins. Worlds changed, societies came and went, but his mother's people were universal. The blonde hair was different. Almost exotic when compared to the rest of her.
The ease of her touch, the willingness to be personal...it set his blood afire. Drayek's love and adoration were fulfilling, but sometimes, a gentle passivity was just as satisfying.
He had watched her pupils dilate slightly as he flashed her his fangs. She shivered and smiled when he told her he was used to his prey resisting, and because she didn't, she'd be the first he let live. Opium clung to her skin like an addictive perfume as his fangs and tongue traced across her neck. She felt small in his arms, as she was easily a head and a half shorter than him, but when he fed, she filled him, wantonly giving her essence to him.
Perhaps when it was all over, he'd seek her out again.
He'd need someone to fill the void.
---
Screaming, crying, gnashing his teeth, the reality pulled him from his thoughts. The agony burned him from inside as well as outside. Reality itself rejected the Herald of Oblivion and laughed at his thoughts of comfort.
He was unworthy of the gift. He was unworthy of the Vision. He was unworthy of the touch of Yaga xa Morgaz.
He was a damned fool and unworthy of existence. An animal on a leash, a toy on a string, a worm on a hook.
A failure and a fool.
Part 3
As he drifted in and out of a dreamlike sleep state, Sasha's laughing face kept clearly fixed in his mind's eye.
She had been shocked when he had appeared in the shop behind him. That should have been his first warning. A half dozen shop keepers, plus a score of city guardsmen in yelling range. Se resisted with words and body language, but never enough to leave.
She only left in the tavern, when his attention drifted from her. Connecting with people she knew he could readily track her down by. That should have been his first warning.
But he was a damn fool, and never saw it coming. She followed him through a gate to Umbra, after fearing for her life and it set no alarms. He left her alone in a room three times and she never tried to run, and it raised no suspicions. Once the two of them were alone, he finally looked at her aura and realized there was no fear. Only excitement. Only then, once they joy of his fear being fed was gone did he begin to suspect.
He took her to his sire, seeking wisdom, understanding, guidance. She had none. But as soon as the deed was done, she was quick to take notes. Why take notes? Because she KNEW. She was part of IT.
Then the letter. The damnable letter. The truth. Sasha laughed as she gave him the cure. He was an experiment. A rat in a cage. A sample under glass. A culture in the vat. She was clever and he had fallen headlong into her trap.
His teeth chattered and he sweat bile and blood as the drugs and disease ran its course. He was in agony, but it would soon be all over. Once it was over, and he was clean again, he would begin drafting his plans.
They conspired. But they had forgotten, he was the Herald. His limits untested, his abilities wholly unknown. In the sick and filth, a horrific grin pulled across his face.
The coincidences were too great to ignore. The methods, the methodology...to him it was clear. Why? It didn't matter. None of it mattered.
Only vengance. Slow and painless until there was no return. Then the lingering pain, humiliation and suffering would be unrelenting.
As the sun set, and the last of the drugs and disease were purged from his body, the wild grin slipped from his face, filled by an unnatural calm. The peace of Oblivion. As Dealthagar extracted himself from the bonds peals of laughter rang in the halls of The Sanctum. the irony was delicious and was not lost on the Herald of Oblivion, the Voice of Entropy, the Seer of Madness.
You cannot defeat me.
You cannot escape me.
You can only embrace me.
FIN
Original Post Date: Tue Dec 01, 2009