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Hello all, I've returned with the beginnings of a new story. This time, it is spin-off/follow-up to my last epic, The Volara Cycle. Due to the general popularity of Kulu in that story, I decided it was worthwhile to give him a full story of his own, while giving full closure to his arc as a character. Thus, if you haven't read the Volara Cycle, I highly recommend heading there before reading this one. Without saying too much I want this to have more of a focus on horror than my previous story. If that sounds interesting to you, then I hope you enjoy! Just like TVC, both genders exist in all elements. Chapter 1 There was a dull thud and a sharp snap as a single, lightstone ignited in the center of the room, illuminating the form of a lone Toa in a shaft of bright, white light. She winced, shrinking from the light as her eyes adjusted. Around her, in the darkness, she could hear the shuffling and whispering of unseen forms, several pairs of eyes fixed on her. She thought she could make out some of them; the outline of a mask here, a shifting silhouette there. It could've just as easily been her mind playing tricks on her, her eyes desperate to see anything in the perfect darkness. She wondered if there was something covering their heartlights, possibly a one-way mirror obscuring the lights of their eyes and of their bodies. If she had her usual Kanohi Arthron, she would've been able to detect their positions, their outlines, exactly how many there were. It, along with her other tools and belongings, had been stripped from her before she had entered the chamber. A glowing blue shackle had been placed over her wrists, further inhibiting her elemental ability. She wondered if they could sense her trepidation, her anxiety. In this place, she was well and truly vulnerable. Just breathe, she told herself, it will all be over soon. Finally, a voice spoke up directly in front of her. Its cadence was strong and imperious, but it sounded positively ancient, as if the very stones beneath her feet were accusing her. “This hearing has been called as part of a larger inquiry into the outcome of Operation Strident Three. As part of that inquiry, you have been called to testify on your role in the operation itself and its ultimate result. Start at the beginning,” it said, “Tell us every detail you can about your last mission, from its conception to its conclusion. From insertion to extraction.” The Toa shifted uncomfortably. She had expected a new line of questioning, not retreading old ground. “I already told all I could in my debriefing...” “And we've all read it,” a second voice, gravelly and aged, cut in, “for the sake of this hearing and the record, please repeat it.” “To be frank, I have not been informed of the purpose of this hearing. Is it disciplinary or...” “If it was disciplinary, would your testimony change?” Asked a third voice in a strangely soothing tone. The Toa wasn't sure how to answer, gawping for a moment before the first voice spoke again. “This hearing is, for the moment, purely inquisitive in nature. It is our duty to examine every detail of the late operation and determine if the objectives were completed, if the general secrecy of the Order of Mata-Nui was upheld, and if unnecessary Order casualties were sustained. If your actions were found by this council to have violated these three precepts, then this could easily become a disciplinary hearing. But first, as Order bylaws state, this council must hear your side of the story. Now, if you would prefer a more guided line of questioning, then I will begin. What is your designation within the Order?” The Toa sighed, swallowing her uncertainty before answering, “Vielu, Toa of Psionics. Code-name Kirikori. I was originally a member of the Order's training and reeducation department before the beginning of Operation Strident Three, at which point I and my charge were reassigned to the field teams, and I was given the rank Seeker.” There was a short pause as the council shuffled, obviously looking over some notes. Somewhere in the darkness, an auto-inscriber whirred, striking her every word into a fresh tablet. The third voice spoke next, asking, “who was your charge?” “Prisoner 5572390,” she responded quickly, as if the number was burned into her mind, “Kulu, Toa of Shadow. Captured on Volara-Nui at the end of Operation Tidal Four and referred to reeducation.” Another hesitation, more shuffling. A new, fourth voice chimed in, sharper than the others. “What was the nature of this reeducation?” The voice had come from her right, indicating that the council was arranged in a semi-circle around her. There were other slight noises further to her right, nearly behind her. Just how many councilors could there be? “My objective was to turn the prisoner into a viable Order agent, ensuring compliance and removing any enemy influence. My secondary objective had been to probe his mind and discover any actionable intelligence about the enemy that I could. I had been training him to shield his mind from telepathic attacks when the news came that we had been reassigned to Strident Three,” Vielu responded. “Tell us about Operation Strident Three,” the first voice said, “Tell us about Eskatae.” Vielu felt her insides drop, and her breathing became irregular. For the past few months, she had been trying very hard not to think about Eskatae. “I wish to speak frankly again,” she started, her voice beginning to quiver, “Eskatae, Operation Strident Three, was a nightmare, start to finish. Every day, every waking moment, was a new fight for survival. We were cut off, in the most hostile landscape imaginable. And the dreams... I don't think I could describe Eskatae to anyone. Part of me will never truly leave that island.” Despite Vielu's clear terror at the prospect of reliving Strident Three, the voices seemed unimpressed. “We've read the reports,” the second voice said, repeating his sentiment from earlier, “It's clear to anyone that Eskatae was Karzahni made over, and Strident Three a waking nightmare as you've described. If it wasn't there would be no reason for this council to convene. However, this council has a job to do, and that job begins with hearing your testimony. So, to the best of your ability, tell us all you can. If you must, reach out to that part of you that is still on Eskatae.” There was cruelty laden in that last jab, and Vielu tried hard not to let if affect her. “Fine. The first time I heard about Strident Three, Kulu and I were in a training session.” The smell of smoke hung heavy in the air, and the heat of the burning buildings staved off the cold of Ko-Koro. All around him, the Ko-Matoran were screaming, running for the ephemeral safety of their homes, as the twisted shapes of the Kra-Matoran chased them down. There was blood seeping into the snow as Kulu strode through the chaos, a blade in hand. In front of him stood the village's last defender, the only person still standing their ground. Turaga Velal's Hau shone through the acrid haze, and he brandished a bladed staff as the Shadow Toa approached him. Kulu laughed cruelly, kicking the crumpled form of a dead Ko-Matoran as he drew closer and closer. “I was afraid all of you would run rather than fight,” he said, leveling the blade at Velal. Velal seemed unimpressed. The shield generated by the Hau shimmered around him, causing the ashy snow to be deflected off it as it fell. “I will not let it be said that this village was laid to waste by monsters without a fight, and that Turaga Velal did not lay down his life for his Matoran.” The Turaga slammed the butt of his staff into the ground before charging headlong at Kulu. Kulu struck, but his blade bounced off of the shield, and he had to step backwards to dodge Velal's staff. "Very noble,” Kulu hissed, pulling his shadow up off the ground and manipulating it in his hands, “but it means nothing. If you fight or not, this village will still be ruins come tomorrow.” Kulu hurled the razor sharp shadow, hoping to break the shield surrounding the Turaga. It struck the force-field, causing it to flicker and blink, but it did not falter. Velal lashed out again, drawing a parry from Kulu that nearly knocked the staff away. The aged elder was not a match for Kulu in any way. It would only be a matter of time. “Fight me, monster!” Velal shouted, “I'm bound by no code. I will gladly add your blood to this snow!” Kulu laughed heartily at that, and did as he asked. The two clashed again and again, Kulu pummeling the shield with blade and shadow as Velal struck out at every opening. Despite his age, Kulu had to admit the Turaga was fast. Multiple times he had come within inches of the blade. Although he was enjoying the bout, Kulu realized that his soldiers must be watching the duel. Taking this long to dispatch a Turaga of all things would not look good. The fruitless sparring had to come to an end. Kulu batted away another attack before stepping backwards. He appraised his options before coming up with a plan. The light of the fires had given each of them a multitude of shadows, each one dancing on the ground around them. Kulu reached out with his powers, manipulating the shadows and crafting them into copies of him. In an instant, Velal was surrounded by no less than five Kulus. Surprised but not cowed, Velal examined the shadows, trying to find any difference between them and the real Kulu. He saw one, to his right, who seemed more animated than the others, moving more like a living being than the others. Velal lashed out with his remaining strength, swinging his staff over his head at the shadow Toa's mask. For just a moment, it seemed that the Turaga had done it. The staff disappeared within the shadow, causing it to flicker and disappear. Velal didn't have time to regret his choice, as the real Kulu struck from behind him, his blade sneaking past the shield and coming to rest in his back. Velal groaned as life left him, crumpling to the ground as Kulu pulled the sword out. As Kulu swung the blood off of his blade, something suddenly seemed off to him. The screaming had stopped, and the Kra-Matoran were nowhere to be seen. On the ground, Velal's empty eyes stared back up at him, the Hau seeming to silently judge him. Kulu felt sick, throwing the sword down as it became clear to him. He heard a clapping behind him, and he spun around to face it. It was another Toa, armored in blue and gold. The fires reflected off of her gilded Kanohi Arthron, her eyes glowing cerulean underneath it. “What a fight,” she said disdainfully, “You must have broken quite a sweat fighting that dangerous Turaga. It was really close at times, but you somehow made it through.” The image of the burning village started to blur around Vielu, and Kulu felt as if the world was made of smoke. With an exasperated flippancy, she snapped her fingers, causing the world to first stretch far away into nothingness and then go dark. To Kulu it felt like being dragged bodily through a lightless tunnel. With a gasp he jolted out of his seat. He hadn't been in Ko-Koro, or even on Volara-Nui. He had been sitting at a table across from Vielu, somewhere in the bowels of Daxia, in the midst of one of her “training” sessions. “Training” had been the word that she had used, claiming that the purpose of these sessions was to shield his mind from telepathic attacks. To Kulu, it was torture. A systematic undressing of every foul deed, every selfish desire, every negative thought he had ever conceived of. Nothing was safe from Vielu's probing grasp. He had made progress, sometimes able to block her march through his psyche. He was only successful in stopping one out of every ten attacks, however, and she made sure each failure stung as she trawled his mind for whatever struck her fancy. Despite what she claimed, Kulu swore he could sense relish in her torment. “That Makuta really did a number on you,”she said. Between them lay a writing slate and a stylus. The stylus seemed to move of its own accord as Vielu telekinetically penned her report on the session. As the stylus scratched on the slate, she stared Kulu down with those cold, blue eyes. “Your mind is less like an unlocked door than a door that was never closed to begin with. I've never seen a psyche more pliant than yours. It's honestly sad.” Kulu glared at her, arms bracing against the dampening shackle around his wrists. His old master, the Makuta Vortidax, had come and gone as he pleased from Kulu's mind, taking what he needed as he needed it. Kulu could never tell whenever Vortidax was reading his thoughts, unlike Vielu, whose presence raked against the inside of his head like a dull blade. “You can't blame the student who has a sorry teacher,” Kulu spat, hands balled into fists, “Go ahead, tell me to 'focus on the emptiness between thoughts' again. I'm sure that it will work this time.” Vielu was unfazed. “Focus on the emptiness between thoughts,” she deadpanned, “I'm sure it will work this time.” Kulu scowled at her, knowing a new assault was incoming. This time, however, he was ready for her. He focused on a particularly dark memory, one that kept even him up at night. She snapped her fingers again, and Kulu gasped as he felt his psyche take the full force of the attack. The light was suddenly swallowed by infinite blackness. In the impossible distance, the pinpricks of stars could be seen. The void crushed Kulu, ripping the air from his body with incredible force. He was a split second away from blacking out when suddenly the air returned. As he caught his breath, he noticed he was not alone in the cold nothingness. To his right was a strongly-built brown-armored body. This was Akarius, the Toa of Stone, his nemesis during the Volara War. To his right, Nemick, one of Volara-Nui's feckless Turaga. Directly in front of them all was the imposing form of Vortidax. In the distance past the Makuta loomed an enormous sapphire sphere, larger than any of them could comprehend. Sprawled over the surface of the sphere was the shadow of a Toa-like figure, submerged under the endless ocean that gave the sphere its color. Calmly and coldly, Vortidax explained to them that the figure was their world, the Matoran Universe. Everything they ever knew was contained within the massive robot. Before they could even process what he was telling them, Vortidax spoke again. “If Teridax is successful, he will kill Mata-Nui and place himself in control of his body. Everything, the world as we all know it, will be under his control. All of us will be at his mercy.” Kulu's memories bled together at that point before melting into a nightmare. Suddenly, Vortidax crumbled to dust before their eyes. The forms of Akarius and Nemick floated around Kulu, their eye sockets empty and their heartlights dead. In Vortidax's place stood a decrepit Matoran, armor rusted and corroded and eyes glowing a baleful yellow Its Hau was twisted, betraying no hint of emotion whatsoever. Through memories of memories and through corrupted hallucinations, it was like Teridax was really there, murderous visage and all. He was the nameless fear that hounded Kulu in his sleepless nights, the thing he dreaded more than execution at the Order's hands. There was another snap, and Kulu was again dragged back into reality. Teridax stared at him the whole way before erupting in a mass of oily black tentacles that seemed to chase him into the light of the chamber. This time it was Vielu who was jolted out of her seat. Her chair was sent to the floor as she jumped up, stepping backwards as if to put distance between her and the thing haunting Kulu's mind. Her eyes betrayed her fear as they darted around the room, searching for any explanation for what she had just witnessed. “What... was... that?” She demanded, back pressed against the wall. The stylus, which had been writing dutifully, now rolled back and forth over the slate before coming to a rest. “My burden, the weight of which you now share,” Kulu said, standing up as well, “Where in the body do you think Daxia is? The torso? The hand?” “Shut up,” Vielu hissed, composure regained, “This session is over.” There was a knock at the door. Vielu made a motion towards Kulu, shoving him back down into his seat with an invisible hand. She made another gesture towards the door, causing it to swing open. In stepped a tall, lithe figure with jet black armor; a Vortixx. Kulu had not seen this one before, but could tell just by the way he carried himself that he was a veteran agent. Vielu seemed surprised to see him here. “Rinax, come in, we had just finished today's session,” she said, indicating an empty seat beside her. Rinax shook his head, instead eyeing Kulu coldly. “There's no need,” he said placidly, continuing to stare at Kulu. It wasn't until an uncomfortable moment had passed before he even looked at Vielu, reaching into a pocket to retrieve something as he did. “I'm only here to give you this.” He reached her an object, what looked to be a small tablet of some sort. She took it and read it, her eyes widening as she did. She looked up at the other agent, mouth agape. “You're reassigning me?” She asked incredulously. Rinax shook his head again, before clarifying, “We're reassigning both of you. The prisoner's training is to be cut short, and he is to be transferred to a field assignment. Since you're his handler, that means you're coming too.” Now it was Kulu's turn to be shocked. “Field assignment...” he repeated, “Where?” Rinax turned his gaze back to the shadow Toa, regarding him with veiled disgust. “Eskatae. I'm certain neither of you have ever heard of it. It's an island in the far southern reaches.” “The legs,” Kulu mumbled, as if unable to stop himself. Rinax gave him a confused look, while Vielu glared fiercely at him. Rinax continued: “Anyway, a strange, interdimensional rift has appeared on the island, spewing pure energy into the area and causing a great disturbance. The only place that a similar event is known to have occurred is on Volara-Nui, where your Toa of Shadow saw it firsthand.” Kulu blinked in disbelief. Surely they must be joking. “I saw this rift, but that doesn't make me an expert on it. No more than I am an expert in you right now. Surely there must be others you can send,” Kulu reasoned. Rinax sighed. “Do you know what your file lists you as?” He asked. Kulu shook his head. Rinax looked at Vielu for the answer. “Exploitable/Expendable,” She said, almost sheepishly. Rinax nodded a smile beginning to form on his face. “Excellent!” He said, “Thanks to Vielu's probing, we've already gotten the exploiting part out of the way. Now comes time for the expendable part.” The tall Vortixx took a few steps towards Kulu until he was towering over him. In a voice barely above a whisper, Rinax growled, “You will find a way to close that rift or you will die.” Review Topic
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- the_volara_cycle
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A trailer hasn't made me this excited since the "Chewy, we're home" one came out in 2015. I saw this within minutes of it coming out and initially didn't think anything of it, until I saw the official channel name. And then I dropped EVERYTHING. 24601
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- Dont Hug Me
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I know that some people are going to find this hard to believe, but when I was halfway home a balloon randomly floated down from the sky and landed in front of me. Review in a couple of days. But if you want a long story short, there was none. As in, no story. The film is mostly just a bunch of random events. And it's also not scary. I would be disappointed, but I had a good time. Perhaps I annoyed the people in the theatre with me, but I openly laughed quite a few times. 24601
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I can't remember a time aside from the summer season where so many movies came out that I wanted to see within weeks of each other. Logan, Kong, Power Rangers, Beauty and the Beast, and Life all fall into this category for me. I guess this means I'll be spending a lot of time at the theaters in the near future. But that's off topic from what I want to talk about in this entry. I saw Life this past weekend, and I thought it was an entertaining movie. The characters were interesting, the special effects were good, and the story was pretty decent. It kept me on the edge of my seat at a few moments throughout the film, which is good for a horror movie in space to do. I guess my only real complaint about it is that it doesn't feel like the movie does anything new in the 'space horror movie' department. I will admit that I personally haven't seen many movies that fall into that category, but I felt like this movie's story has been done before. That being said, I still thought it was enjoyable. Plus, it did have a couple good twists to keep things interesting. Or at least, they kept me interested. Overall, I did enjoy this film. It's not going to be my favorite movie of the year, but it was still entertaining enough that I say check it out if you like horror movies in space. That is, if you are old enough to see rated R movies, as this movie has that rating. Have you seen 'Life?' And if so, what did you think of it?
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What is your favorite Halloween themed movie?
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Raiders of the Forsaken Archives By RisingSoul, a.k.a. Christian Horst Back cover synopsis: Review topic. Dramatis Personae Hamak: red Toa of Fire. Sahkmah: blue Toa of Water. Marik: green Toa of Air. Ikapak: white Toa of Ice. Polin: brown Toa of Stone. Nepteran: black Toa of Earth. Kali: blue Ga-Matoran Chronicler. Contents: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Epilogue
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"It is at a time like this that one wonders; what constitutes an explorer? What drives them to keep challenging themselves, to reach new frontiers never seen before by any other Matoran? The answer? Curiousity. Curiousity and the desire to learn. To expand one's field of knowledge. To know more, to obtain the missing pieces of a puzzle too big ever to be completed and fully comprehended. That's what drives us forward. And that very instinct, along with extrordinary ingenuity, has brought us here, right now. We are now ready to explore a new, unknown frontier. Today, our view of the world is about to be radically changed. Our perceived notions of the limits of exploration are about to be torn down to their very foundations. Because today, we are taking a step into a new direction. A new world. An unknown beyond." Professor Kamura finished his speech, and a round of applause went through the crowd present. The professor went back to his seat among his team on the stage, and his friend Omuro patted him on the back. There was an elated smile present on Kamura's dark grey Rau, as was there a smile present on the masks of everyone in the team. Today was the day. The day on which a new, rigorously tested piece of technology was to be deployed. Professor Kamura and his team had been working on it for decades, and it was only today that a team of two highly trained matoran was to use it. "It" being a rift generator. They had no idea where this rift led to. They had tried to decipher the energy readings coming off from the rift when they managed to form it, but some of them made no sense. In some cases, the readings were off the charts, while in others the energy readings had a negative value; something they didn't even know these sensors had built in them. Granted, it was a salvaged artifact rather something they had designed, but this was unprecedented. They had sent probes through the rift, and surprisingly, they had managed to keep limited but sustained contact with the probes as they explored what they assumed was the other side of the rift. The readings indicated that the physical properties on the other side were all within safe paramaters for a matoran to survive there, granted that they wore an enviromental suit, seeing as how they had no idea if there was even an atmosphere on the other side. The probes had not returned, how ever, and as a result, the first mission of the two matoran going through the rift was to find the probes and return with them so that the sensor readings could be analyzed. *** Kyria, a female matoran of air wearing a bright green Komau, was putting on her EV suit. She just finished putting on the suit itself, and was about to put on her helmet when her mission partner, a male matoran of gravity wearing a black noble Arthron named Ralius, entered the dressing room. He was carrying his own suit in his arms, and had a calm yet at the same time excited look to his face. "So this is it then. First trip into the rift. Got any second thoughts?" Ralius asked her as he placed his suit on the bench opposite to the one Kyria was standing by and began to open up the suit so that he could get into it. Kyria giggled lightly. "Oh please, you know me too well to be asking that seriously. I've been waiting-" "Years to go through that rift, I know, I know, you've told me a thousand times." Ralius interrupted. Kyria smiled. "It's hard to belive we're finally here. After all this time." Kyria said with a hint of awe in her voice. The two matoran stepped onto the metallic platform, both fully suited up in their EV suits. Cameras conveyed the scene from every angle as civilians, reporters, government officials and other scientists all the same watched with anticipation. Kyria looked to Ralius, and Ralius returned the glance. With a reassuring nod from both to the other, they stepped into the repulsion field, finding themselves pushed into the air as the machines whirred to life. A beam of light appeared in front of them, seemingy cast by nothing at all. The beam expanded into an irregular line, stretching in between the two towering mechanical constructs like a crack in the very fabric of space. The rift started to stretch apart, and quickly it had become big enough to allow both of them through. They activated the thrusters on their boots and elbows, and soon enough the two had disappeared into the light. A murmur of awe arose from the people watching. *** "Kyria. Ralius. This is Ground Control. Do you copy?" The voice of Professor Kamura came through with only a minor amount of static. As Kyria surveyed her surroundings, she placed one hand up to a button on the side of her helmet and responded. "This is Kyria. I copy." A voice came through on the communication channel. "This is Ralius. I copy." An audable sigh of relief came through from the professor. "Report on your status. What do you see?" As Kyria spun around, looking around herself, she found herself unable to accurately convey what she was seeing. Wherever she looked, she seemed to see something completely different. Planes of rock, suspended above her as if they were the sky itself, and the ground itself was a white void, but when she looked in another direction, the ground was rough but solid metallic crystals, with torrents of some kind of metallic liquid shooting out into the burning sky where they seemed to never falter. When she moved, her vision blurred, and what was once a small cliff drop was now the roots of a massive mountain. Another slight movement, and she found herself unable to breathe, as if she had been kicked in the stomach with unimaginable force. "I... I c-can't. This isn't how I..." Kyria was now extremely afraid. This location was unimaginably eldritch to her. And she had no idea where Ralius even was. He had reported in on the channel, but to her he was no where in sight. Not that her sight was consistent anyway, and as she looked up again, an infinite void appeared before her, with her lying on her knees on top of an impossibly geometrical disc. It had no imperfections that she could note, and had a chrome sheen to it. She slowly stood up again, trying to come to terms with what she was seeing. The void seemed to be consistent for the time being, but she wasn't going to bet that it would stay that way for long. Looking around, she saw noting but the pitch black void. And then, she saw it. A bright yet extremely distant flash of light. She looked around frantically, trying to see if another one would appear elsewhere. And so it did. And another. They were sparse, and far in between, and the interval at which they came was highly irregular. Looking down, Kyria noticed that the disc was slowly yet steadily bulging out. She hurriedly tried to gain balance, but found that she was quite secure on it no matter how she moved. The disc had now become a perfect sphere. A sphere, apparently, with the same amount of gravitational pull her home planet. It had to be incredibly dense, but then again, it had expanded from what seemed like a disc lacking any width that also had possessed the same gravimetric properties, so she doubted there was any physical logic to it as she knew it. But here she was stuck, in the middle of an infinite void, standing on a small metallic sphere that seemed to disobey the very laws of physics. She placed her hand to the button on her helmet. "Ground Control. This is Kyria. Do you copy?" End of Part 1 Review Topic
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Note: This is a Halloween story that I was going to post last month, but I wasn't able to finish it until today. Hope everyone enjoys it regardless. A Skakdi Horror Story The island of Zakaz was covered in the dark of the night. No stars could be seen shining in the dark sky above, nor was there any moon. At least, that is what I, Adzul, remember of that night. There were no sounds, no dangerous weather, not even a gentle breeze. It was just a cold, dead night on our island, as if time itself had frozen upon it. Maybe that was why he came that night. Maybe he knew that his approach, his march of death and destruction, would have a better chance of success in the blanket of darkness and quiet that nothing could brake. I know not how the mighty monster named Irnakk came into being. We the Skakdi believed that he was only a myth. A terrifying myth that haunted the dreams of our kind for countless centuries and robbed many of sleep at night, but a myth nonetheless. Some think he was born from the Giant Lake in the heart of Zakaz. How ironic it would've been that something that brings death of the Skakdi race would come from one place where we didn't tear each other to pieces. Others believed the Makuta Spirah performed one too many experiments on one poor Skakdi soul, and had transformed him into the monster that had the golden spine. For me, it mattered not how Irnakk came into this world. All that mattered was that once he had his sights on your town or fortress, it would not live to see the morning. I believe it was the two Skakdi guards outside my fortress that first heard the monstrous roar of Irnakk that broke the silence that night. Or course, they had no idea that our worst nightmare was coming for us. They believed it to be a Rahi driven mad. When the roar sounded like it was getting closer to the fortress, they sent half a dozen Nektann machines to investigate and see if the 'Rahi' posed a threat. Twenty minutes later, they heard another sound. One that no Skakdi had ever heard before this horrible night. It was the sound of a Nektann machine screaming in fear as it died. I don't recall how long it took the Irnakk to reach our gates after that. All I remember was the scream of the guards awakening everyone in the fortress. All twelve of us rushed to the entrance, only to find the gates collapsed, ablaze in fire. One of the two guards stumbled out of the flames, burning alive as he screamed in unstoppable pain. Then before our terrified eyes, his body melted into a pool of liquid metal. It was I who was first able to tear my gaze off the horrible sight and notice the shape of the attacker looming in the fires before us. If I was known in that second that the fires separated Irnakk from us, I would've ran until I couldn't have run anymore. But I didn't know. Mata Nui, I didn't know. And it cost all of us greatly. "Come to play." Those were the words that the he spoke as his monstrous form emerged from the flames and began his rampage. My fellow Skakdi and I screamed in horror and ran for their lives as the myth brought to life tore at anything it could get its skull covered claws on. A Skakdi of Earth and Skakdi of Ice were the first to be killed by the monster. They foolishly got themselves pinned between a stone wall and Irnakk. They were dead before they could even think of a way to escape. I watched as two other Skakdi tied to attack him with their impact vision, but two spheres launched from the monster's back stopped them. They struck the two Skakdi, reversing their attacks on themselves. I looked away then, but not before I saw enough to know now what impact vision can do at close range to a Skakdi skull. Not even someone from my kind should see that. In a matter of minutes, the rest of my kind had fallen to the monster. We summoned the rest of our Nektann to try to save us from our worst nightmare, but they only bought me a few seconds as they fell with the remaining Skakdi. Some lost their lives by Irnakk's Zamor Spheres, others by his giant claws. Before I knew it, I was the only one left. I found myself envying those who were dead. At least they didn't have to suffer anymore at the mercy of Irnakk. He hit me with his backhand as I tried to escape down a side exit of the room. I slammed back-first into a nearby stone wall. Dazed, I looked up and saw the monster leaning over me, as if deciding what he would do with me. "What are you waiting for?" I stammered at him. "Why don't kill me like the rest?" "I do not wish death on all my toys. There is no fun in that." Irnakk replied, his voice sounding like bones cracking. "I have a much better idea for you." Before I come do anything, the monster fired his red vision power on me, bathing me in dark red light. Suddenly, the world around me vanished, and I found myself floating in a dark void. There was no stone floor beneath me, no stone walls, fires, or dead Skakdi and Nektann around me, and no light to see my hand in front of me. I didn't even know if there was air for me to breathe anymore. There was just...nothing. "Where am I?" That was what I tried to scream, but no sound escaped my lips. I tried to turn my head, to move my body in any way, only to fail in my efforts. I began to question if I still had a body at all now. I certainly didn't feel like I did before. "Congratulations, little Skakdi." A booming voice I recognized as Irnakk's said to me from all around me in the darkness. "You have given the greatest gift of all living things, Adzul. A gift no other Skakdi, Makuta, or even Mata Nui could give you, because only I could give it to you." "I have given you the gift of immortality." Before this moment, that would've been a wish come true for me. But now they were coming from Irnakk, which only left me trembling. "But the price of this gift is that you will now forever live in my mind, as a 'memory'." Irnakk went on darkly. "You will never fill your stomach with food, never quench your thirst, never have your needs fulfilled ever again. You will just stay in my mind, to entertain me as I see fit." "Forever." My body was suddenly reformed as I found myself removed from the dark void and floating over a huge canyon filled with Skakdi skulls. A huge Rahi at least five times the size of a Tantorak emerged out of them, armed with sharp claws and magma escaping from its jaws. It was a monster that could only be created in the imagination of the mad. "This is just one of the many ideas I have to put you through, Azdul." Irnakk went on as I began to slowly be lowered to the monstrous Rahi beneath me. "And I am very interested in seeing which one entertains me the most." I suddenly had an image form in my mind, one that would surely kill me if such a thing were still possible. It was the image of Irnakk smiling. "Let the entertainment begin." Irnakk cheered as I uncontrollably entered the Rahi hungry mouth. And all that could be heard in Irnakk's mind were my pain-filled screams. ***** Comments and Criticism appreciated!
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- Halloween Story
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The Arsenal of the Ancients Abandoned to time, abandoned to death.Left alone, the creatures roam.-A Rhyme of Those Inside You run. You don't look back to see what's chasing you, you just run. You run because you know that skittering sound killed your brother, and it would just love to kill you.You can tell. Oh, Great Beings, you can tell. You call feel its hatred, wanting to break you, destroy you, make you like it. Make every last shred of sanity vanish from your head before it feeds on you and allows you the escape of death. The death it can't feel. But you're fast. Your brother injured it using one of the prototype weapons lying around the dusty, dark rooms of the Warehouse, but that wasn't enough to save him. You ran while he screamed, while the escapee came the closest to feeling happy it ever does. It might be enough to save you. If you can just make it to the light before the line between you and it disappears. The light is so close. But so far. History of the Warehouse Storage Facility 42. Something the Great Beings would probably like to wipe off their slate. It used to be a highly secure facility where only the most classified experiments were conducted and most valuable projects kept. Emphasis on used to. It used to be in a large cavern. Something went horribly wrong, as it always does. Something tried to escape. It failed. The failsafes didn't. Element-blocking and physical barriers were thrown up, reinforcing the walls to be nearly unbreakable. The cave was collapsed, burying the facility in tons upon tons of rock and earth. The perfect prison, for the wrong prisoners. Scientists, janitors, and anyone in the base at the time were trapped. For a time, everything held together. Just keep doing your jobs, and the rescuers would be here soon. That lasted until the first blackout. The power in some of the less secure containment areas disappeared, the main computer system deciding that it needed to conserve power for the long-term. The escapees weren't too bad, not enough to keep security from putting them down or chasing them into the basement, but it shook the little bit of confidence everyone had. Factions emerged. The second blackout, a few months later, took the power out of the communications relay. The system's reasoning was simple: Either relief was coming or it wasn't. Beaming a signal through hundreds of bio of rock took a lot of power. That was a dark time. Many died in riots, and the social structure, barely stable, was completely toppled. People started to wonder if those outside had decided to abandon them rather than admit their mistakes. The blackout that claimed mid-security tipped it over the edge. Ironically, in hatred came Unity. Pulled together by their bitter dislike of the people who had stuck them here, order returned. Another seeming eternity passed, with each day the hope rescuers would come diminishing further and further. Finally, the computer was struck with a decision that tied up its memory banks for weeks. It had somehow grown to care for those that depended on the ever dwindling supply of energy left in the reactor. Three major systems were left. Maximum security, the food synthesizers, and the barriers. Unfortunately, it couldn't choose to turn the barriers off. That was an overriding command, back from the days when it was servant to its creators. The final decision was to turn max security off. With those systems gone, the prototype reactor that fed the barriers could power the food systems nearly indefinitely, saving those who didn't die at the hands of the creature freed. Unwilling to see its dependents suffer and meet their deaths at the hands of the abomination, the computer went dormant. If it could have cried, it would have. Now those left behind are hunted. Hunted through the dark halls of Storage Facility 42, their numbers ever decreasing, trying desperately to use the prototype (and unreliable at best) technology stored in the warehouse to their advantage. Species Since this is set during the construction of the Great Spirit robot, most of the workers in the lab are Matoran. None are Toa, the captive taking depraved pleasure in robbing those it hunts of their protectors first. A slight number are Agori and Glatorian. Any species created by Mata Nui have not been made yet.The EscapeeNot much is known about the captive, other than what has been heard from those unlucky enough to survive its attacks. A collection of lyrical statements have been compiled from the ramblings of these poor individuals, collectively called "Rhymes of Those Inside." They seem to discuss the situation of the researchers and the nature of the creature, though rarely in any form of sense. A particularly mystifying description:"The insects turned, turned the metal, turned the equipment, turned the mental." Locations:Storage Facility 42 is divided into two large sectors by Hall 2B, or the Hallway of Twilight, as more poetic residents have called it. The western sector is much smaller than the eastern one. Storages, Labs, and Halls are identified by a letter, a number, and a combination of the two respectively. The inhabitants slowly retreated into the western section over time. The reason was the food and water dispensers at first, the monsters later. Almost all of the light has been shut off to the eastern section, and maps have mostly been lost, making this a haven for the more undesirable inhabitants. West: [*]Storage A: By far the largest single room in the western section, Storage A is home to the great majority of the remaining population. Due to the tendency of the less polite inhabitants to avoid light, it's kept brightly lit at all times. Almost all technology has been moved out of here to make room for refugees from other settlements. The majority of the floorspace is taken up by cots and other forms of beds, a medical area in the northwest corner. The remaining area is consumed by food and water dispensers. Storage A also makes up the largest section of the western sector. [*]Storages B & C: Located adjacent to Storage A, these two rooms are where most of the living supplies for the inhabitants of A are kept. Spare bedrolls, tools, some weapons, medical supplies, etc. [*]Storage D: Between Storage C and Hallway 2B, Storage D is the starting point for most expeditions into the eastern section. The only thing approaching a bar or restaurant is in D, run by a Matoran of Plantlife named Rekan. [*]Lab 1: Mostly disused now and stripped for equipment, Lab 1 still may have some technology no one has taken... [*]Lab 2: The home of the remnants of the security forces, Lab 2 is the place to run to if you're being chased by anything, be it raiders or the escapee itself. East: [*]Lab 20: Located in the heart of the eastern sector, Lab 20 is the best estimate for where the Prisoner calls its home, some perverse desire calling it back to the place it was kept captive. If you want to stay alive, don't go anywhere near Lab 20. [*]Storage E: One of the largest rooms in the entire facility, Storage E is full of undocumented equipment and technology, perhaps the best place to find something that might be able to defeat the captive. Boxes are piled high on the aisles and in a seemingly random order. Factions:There are no true official factions in this RPG apart from the security forces lead by a Glatorian named Heran and a small group of escaped minimum security prisoners operating out of the eastern sector. Player factions will be added as needed. Eastern Assailants: More a name given by the westerners to the raiders living in the east than any official band, these scrappers survive by dodging the escapee and raiding the west for food and supplies. Security: Formerly those responsible for enforcing security levels, now they have a much more dire mission: defend the west from the escapee and raiders. Unfortunately, their numbers are dwindling...Profile Form:All residents need to fill out an identification form, get staff approval, and post it in the profile topic. Otherwise you won't get a funeral. No more than 5 characters unless given explicit permission, please. Name: Please keep it Bionicle-ish.Gender:Species: Matoran, Agori, Glatorian. Another species might be granted if a good enough reason is given.Appearance: What your character looks like.Personality (optional but encouraged): What your character thinks and acts like.Weapons/Equipment: Your tools and possessions.Skills: Any things you're good at.Bio: Five sentences, please. Rules and Regulations:1. All BZP rules apply.2. Listen to the staff.3. Your posts should go something like this, with IC for in character and OOC for out of character:IC: The light was getting closer, but Skrina was rapidly losing her lead. OOC: Some help would be nice!4. Arguments/debates may go on for 2 posts in the main thread. After that, take it to PM or the discussion topic.5. No godmodding. Dodging unavoidable attacks, ignoring injuries, etc.6. This fits under godmodding: No metagaming. Knowing things your character didn't learn, magically crashing another player's party without a good IC reason.7. Put The Darkness in your profile to prove you read this.8. Don't kill another player's character without permission from him/her. Make sure to write that you have permission in the post where you kill the character.9. IN THE EVENT THAT DEATH SEEMS UNAVOIDABLE: Your character may be killed to avoid breaking rule 5. Only staff can do this. This isn't a punishment, just realism. If you have a good way to get out of it after your character is dead, please PM the Fourteenth or another staffer.10. Canon characters are not allowed without having permission from the GM first.11. NPC autohitting is permitted as long as you play realistically.12. No bunnying. That means taking control of another person's character without permission.13. Double posting... Nah.14. Have fun! Punishments are given based on the severity and number of the offense. Rewards include prototype tech that works, special powers, or even something like a character slot.
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Subject "Nerus" is a named Skrall, warrior-class. "Nerus" was brought to our attention when he was apprehended by a number of Glatorian and Toa sentries, heavily injured and unconscious, just outside New Atero. Subject was suffering from both dehydration and starvation, and is believed to have been traveling on foot for about a hundred and fifty kio. Subject carried a standard Tribal Design Blade and Saw Blade Shield, both of which showed signs of recent use. Both have been confiscated. Subject was accompanied by a Skrall female. Injuries are believed to be result of bandit attacks during the journey here. “Nerus” is possibly mentally unstable, but has not displayed aggressive or violent tendencies towards his guards or himself. Antibiotics prescribed for infected foot wound, but otherwise no changes in detainment procedure are necessary. ---- THE WARNING When Tuma was defeated by Mata Nui, our empire finished its collapse and split into a hundred warring factions. We formed small bands of soldiers, guided by the named, the strong, those who had proved their worth in combat. Some of us even joined the hated Sisters, either by force or by coercion. I, Nerus, was forced into joining them. One of the Sisters of the Skrall attacked my band of warriors with powerful, nightmarish illusions. I do not know what horrors they saw, as the Sister saw fit to spare me. Instead, she offered me a deal: hand leadership over to her, or suffer even worse than my subordinates. I agreed. Such is the life of a Skrall on Spherus Magna. The Sisters do not usually make alliances with us, the males, but this Sister was in need of some expendable soldiers. After releasing my soldiers from her psionic assault, she explained to me what she sought: entry into the Lost Stronghold. The legend of the Lost Stronghold is a young one, born some time after we burned our fortress in the north. A combination of conspiracy theory and half-remembered rumors has woven a tale of a ruined castle in the wastelands that held unimaginable riches within its vaults. Over the last thousand years, many have tried to seek out the Lost Stronghold, but all have been unsuccessful. There are no maps that mark it, no books that record its location. It seemed to be truly lost. The Skrall know where the Lost Stronghold is. We do not speak of the Lost Stronghold. It was once a Skrall outpost. I do not know what happened to it, but if Tuma had tried to seal the place off and remove all evidence of its existence, it couldn’t have been pleasant. But the Stronghold had been built and cordoned off only after we had banished the Sisters from our empire. She had only heard of the rumors. Her recounting of the tale described how the Skrall of the Lost Stronghold had dug a mine, deep into the earth, and had discovered the prison of an ancient creature beyond comprehension. The Sister believed that creature to be a being called ‘Angonce’, who could grant her power beyond her wildest dreams. The problem with meeting ‘Angonce’ was that he was surrounded by guardians and deathtraps to ensure that only the worthy could reach him. That was where I and my soldiers came in. We would waltz in, die horribly, and clear the way for the Sister to reach him unopposed. Needless to say, her plan was not very popular among us. But we had no choice. She was very clear about what would happen to the ones who disobeyed her. And so we led her west, towards the Stronghold. I knew something was wrong with the Stronghold as soon as we could see it on the horizon. Its angles did not flow right. There were concaves where there should have been convexes, towers that changed direction depending on where we viewed them. I could not tell if some parts of it were jutting outward or reaching upward. Its alien geometries unsettled us greatly, but still we continued up to it. I noticed the Lost Stronghold also stood in its own personal wasteland. A sparse forest had sprouted up around it, but all the ground near it was little more than barren earth. It was as if life had refused to touch the place. The great gate of the Stronghold had already been broken open, no doubt by some treasure hunter before us. The exsidian locks had corroded, a strange occurrence given the metal’s natural endurance. In fact, the interior of the Stronghold seemed to be in a state of decay far in advance even for a structure of its age. But despite the decay, there was no life within its twisting corridors, not even lichen. Here, the Sister took over as leader. She made no secret of her excitement as she led us into the shadows of the ancient castle. We lit the torches as we went; they were curiously dim. Still, in the oppressive darkness, any light at all was a blessing. I am wary of recounting the following hours in detail. As we navigated the Lost Stronghold, its interior shifted in strange ways that I cannot describe, and I fear for my sanity should I ever fully comprehend how they moved. The Stronghold, in those hours, seemed almost alive, and malevolent. My band of eight soldiers dwindled. One vanished around a corner that didn’t exist. Another, following behind the group, simply disappeared, his absence only noted when we stopped to rest. Slowly and subtly, the Stronghold picked us off, one by one, until only four were left: two soldiers, me, and the Sister. The Sister cared nothing about it. Necessary sacrifices, she said. I think I was the next to vanish. I am not certain what happened then. For a split second the castle’s geometry became even more abstract. The walls seemed to warp or close in on themselves, obscuring the rest of the group from view. When I could make sense of the corridors again, I found myself totally alone. Now I stood at the brink of some huge staircase, descending endlessly into the shadows. The darkness here was thick, almost solid; I felt that I would choke on it. Warily, I drew my sword. I wish I did not go down those steps, that I could have found the strength to turn away and search for the others, but some ancient force was pulling me downwards, deep into Spherus Magna. I went blindly, slowly. The torches had rotted away in their sockets and could not be lit, leaving me in utter darkness. I felt my way down that long staircase, driven by a will that was not entirely my own. At the very bottom of those stairs, I emerged into a vast room. It was not of Skrall design. The chamber was enormous, the size of the Arena Magna if not greater. Hexagonal in shape, it had a pillar in each corner, and each of the six pillars was decorated in the circular script of the Great Beings. They shone brightly, illuminating the room with strong golden light. But what truly awed me was in the center of the room: a massive stone sarcophagus, larger than a Skopio. Its onyx surface was covered in chains and indecipherable symbols, not those of the Great Beings’. I could not fathom what kind of creature was entombed within. Sheathing my sword, I reached up and laid a hand on it, trying to imagine what was inside it, and why it had deserved such an elaborate tomb. The sarcophagus began to open. The glowing pillars extinguished themselves, leaving me in total darkness. A cold chill passed over the room. I heard a roar from within the sarcophagus, a deep, distorted sound that inspired in me such fear that I fled in mindless terror, groping in the dark for the exit. I found it—crawled up the stairs on all fours—something curled around my foot, piercing me with thorns through my armor—I shook it free, continuing my frenzied ascent. Behind me, I heard the gigantic room collapse with a quake that I thought would bring the Stronghold down with it. I heard the thing roar again, sending my terror to even greater heights. I could feel that abomination chasing me, hear its thorns scraping on the stone floor as it dragged itself out of its tomb. I shot from the staircase in a panic, not caring where I went as long as it carried me away from the thing. Its presence had warped space even further. I could not be certain if I was on the floor, the walls, or the ceiling; I could not tell if I was ascending a sheer wall or crawling across a featureless floor. The Stronghold twisted my sense of direction. I encountered an intersection; I ran left, but was carried right. The halls lengthened as I fled through them. And all the while I could hear it, that abomination, scraping the ground as it pursued me. I heard the hissing of torches extinguishing themselves as it passed. It navigated the alien geometry as naturally as a Sand Stalker on a desert. The only reason why I could escape from it was because of how slow it was. Eventually, blessedly, the sounds of pursuit faded away as the beast wandered off in another direction. Partly from relief, partly from exhaustion, I sank to the floor. All creatures have limits, and I had just reached mine. I passed out. The first thing I noticed when I awoke was how much my foot hurt. The second thing I noticed was the Sister crouching down beside me, urging me to wake up. After bandaging my foot with a scrap from her robe, she helped me to my feet, explaining how she had lost track of the others as she did so. Apparently, when I released the abomination from the sarcophagus, it let out a psychic shockwave that she had felt quite painfully. When she had regained her faculties, the remaining soldiers had vanished. It was the awakening of something far older and more powerful than Angonce, she said with a shudder. In turn, I explained my role in unleashing it, describing the dark staircase and the sarcophagus. To her credit, she only nodded, and said that we needed to escape before the beast did. We needed to warn them, she said. Everybody. Being forced to rely on a Sister of the Skrall was not exactly what I would call a good thing, but her skill with psionics and all things related to the mind allowed her to navigate the Lost Stronghold’s interior better than I. Fortunately, the two of us shared a common goal, which must have been a first in the history of the Skrall. The maze of halls and corridors seemed unending, and I could find no trace of the abomination. This worried me; what if it had found a way out? The Sister assuaged my fears, assuring me that she could still feel its mind within the Stronghold. I heard it first. There were footsteps behind us, the sound of armored boots on stone. I turned, and saw a Skrall behind us, framed by the torches behind him—one of my missing soldiers! I moved to greet him, elated, only to be forced back by the Sister. She was fearful—the Skrall was, indeed, one of my men, but she could not feel his mind! As if on cue, the soldier lunged at us, and I could see his features in full. Black, thorny tentacles had sprouted from his body, rupturing his armor, weaving through his flesh. They disfigured him, twisting his body in a manner that was not noticeable from a distance; up close, I could see how the structure of his body was simply entirely, nauseatingly wrong. But the worst part was the head. His neck was bent at an odd angle. Something black and oily flowed from his mouth and his eyes. Those eyes! I did not know if they were missing, or destroyed, but now they were little more than writhing masses of tendrils, extending from the sockets like feelers. It was a sick parody of a Skrall, and I refused to believe that it was once one of my soldiers. I was caught off-guard by the lunge. It tackled me to the ground and raised one thorn-infested arm to end me. The Sister intervened. She kicked it in the chest, knocking it off. It fell back, retreating a short distance on all fours. It snarled and choked and laughed. It leapt forward again, but now I was ready—smashing it in the face with my shield and stabbing it with my sword. It fell again, vomited a thick black tar, and then attacked once more. With a desperate cry, I brought my sword down on its head with all of my strength. It moved no more after that. Then came the all-too-familiar roar of the unnatural beast, echoing through the darkness. I almost panicked as I did while fleeing up that dark staircase, but the Sister calmed me, using her powers for my benefit: another first. The fear was still there, but now I could control it. We still ran, of course, her leading us out of the place, me cursing my injured foot, but we did so with the advantage of reason rather than instinct. Every step I took caused pain to shoot through my leg. I gritted my teeth and bore it, but my limping did not go unnoticed. The Sister bid me to stop. She placed a hand on my forehead and dulled the pain, though it did not fade entirely. I saw worry etched into her face. I was confused—was she worried for her own sake, or for mine? Then that brief interlude passed and we were up and moving once more. We ran, on and on, through corridors that seemed to double back on themselves, crossing stairs that ascended and descended at the same time, climbing when we could not run and crawling when we could not climb. I knew not where we went, but the Sister knew, somehow, with her psychic powers protecting her from the worst of the impossible geometries. I listened as we ran. I listened for the distant scrape of thorns on stone, of the obscene sounds of the beast pulling itself after us. To my relief, I heard nothing; only the sound of our own footsteps and labored breathing met my ears. Then, light! Blessed light! We emerged into the vast entrance hall of the Stronghold. The glorious sun shone from half-ruined windows and crenels. I almost wept in relief, and the Sister beside me laughed in triumph. Her laugh died in her throat as we looked further, towards the Stronghold’s doors. My exultation became horror. For there, between us and our freedom, stood dozens of humanoid figures. Most of them were little more than desiccated husks, animated only by the black thorns that writhed beneath their leathery skin. But there were a small number of fresher bodies, twisted gruesomely by the beast’s corruption. I recognized them. How could I not? For they were my warriors, who had vanished one by one as we explored the Stronghold. And those mummified figures that stood beside them could only have been the Stronghold’s former garrison, as well as the unfortunate souls who had tried to plunder the Stronghold of its nonexistent riches. Oily tentacles waved from what used to be their eyes. I raised my sword and readied my shield, preparing to charge. The Sister, too, readied herself. I felt her presence in my mind, soothing my fears and encouraging me. We would die together. Then I heard the sound of thorns scraping on stone. The light streaming down from outside grew dim. I turned, and saw— --tentacles like vines, like roots, covered in thorns and writhing, writhing— --darkness, infinite darkness, cold and empty— --a hundred thousand eyes, a hundred thousand mouths— --it saw— --it hungered— --The Sister screamed something at me, pulled at my arm. She forced my gaze away from the beast—though beast was not an adequate word to describe the hunger, the sheer malevolence I saw in the thing—forcing my eyes towards the door, past the army of the beast, towards our only chance of escaping this nightmarish place. She shouted one word. I heard it with both my ears and in my mind. RUN! One last stretch. One last sprint. I ran. I ran as fast as my legs could take me, ignoring my injured foot. I met the line of distorted Skrall head on. I smashed with my shield, swung with my sword. Rusted blades struck sparks against my armor. Barbed tentacles lashed at my arms, my feet. But still I ran on, because death at the hands of these twisted soldiers was preferable to being caught by the beast behind us. It chased us, I heard it, heard it scream and rage as it pulled itself towards us. But the Sister was there, negating the worst of our primal fear, inspiring us to run, run, run! We burst through the gates, bleeding from dozens of injuries, driven by terror and adrenaline and determination. The sun was bright on our faces. Never had its heat been so welcome. I fell. I heard the beast bellow in frustration. I turned and saw black tendrils snaking out of the gate, only to shrivel and burn at the light of the sun. The Stronghold’s impossible geometries began to vanish, one by one, as the beast retreated back into its dark depths. We had escaped. We made our way to New Atero as quickly as we could, navigating by the sun and the stars. My lesser wounds began to heal, but my foot became infected. Still we pressed on. We supported each other, me and the Sister. We needed to survive. We needed to pass on our message, our warning. That is why we came here, not to any Skrall camp or petty warlord. Because New Atero is the only place strong enough to fight the beast. New Atero is the only place that will listen to us. This is our warning: We only escaped the beast because it was still weak from its millennia-long imprisonment. With every passing day, it grows stronger. Soon it will be strong enough to endure the sun, and then it shall emerge from the Stronghold like a worm crawling from a festering wound. And then the beast that even the Great Beings feared shall bring darkness to all of Spherus Magna. It must be killed before it grows that powerful. There isn’t much time left. Remember this: light hurts it. Light is the only thing that can kill it. If it lives, we will all die. ---- “Nerus” has been cooperative for the duration of its ongoing imprisonment. However, subject is a victim of apparently psychotic delusions of a ‘beast’ encountered during journey to New Atero. His story of discovering and escaping this beast, while consistent in repeated tellings, remains too fantastic to have any basis in reality. Delusions believed to be a result of dehydration- and heat-based hallucination, combined with fugue-based amnesia. Subject is to remain in Council custody for the foreseeable future.
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Xezia (Szee-stsee-ah)It is going to be a short serious-romantic comedy-horror epic mix about a young Toa who must find his destiny and gets involved with a shadow mistress and is a cross between being loyal to his sister or to this so-called friend. It’s going to shift a lot in mood among chapters so bear with me and this is just a short introduction/chapter 1. I made this for pure fun and I will update it as much as I can, but I am in College so it may not be updated as much as I would like. I just hope I actually finish this Epic, so if you guys like it yeah for me, if you don’t oh well… I’ll write it anyway. Regardless, I’m aiming for at least 12-15 chapters. However, if it somehow a good story that at least a few people enjoy I might expand it. Also, I’m not the best at grammar, so please point out any mistakes that I know I probably did. So anyway enjoy my… “work” of art… twisted in my image. To give me your honest opinion (and I don't get offended by any criticism so you can say whatever you wish), click here for http://www.bzpower.com/board/index.php?showtopic=7560"]review[/url] this epic. A few notes before reading, I might change the first chapter some time to be more like the latest two, which is a more first person and is a lot better in general. For any new people reading it try to at least get through the first two chapters before judging it. Chapter 1: Unforeseen VisitorA young toa was being trained and preparing for a war for Metra-nui. Her name was Ahja (Ah-jah), she was a toa of lightning. Her sleek form allowed her extraordinary maneuvers and tactical advantages and she wore the great mask of speed. She was being taught by an member of the Order of Mata-nui, who called himself “Ios” (Ee-ohs), he was a wolf-like rahi, but could speak and clearly intelligent. Next to Ahja was another toa, Galatius (Gah-lah-tee-oos), a toa of sonics. He was less graceful and needed much practice. He wore the great mask of underwater breathing. He was not the usual toa and many of the rumors say the was a mistake when he was summoned to the temple with Ahji, while others say he was given only left over elemental powers that Ahji didn’t need or couldn’t use.His build was slow, weak, and couldn’t swim well, though his mask helps preventing him from drowning. Though he was often ridiculed for his weakness and being saved by Ahji, but occasionally he was proven useful. Though, he was not summoned to train with the Order of Mata-nui, it was because Ahji refused to train with them unless they allowed him to train with them. Ios laughed at the thought, but in the end agreed. Nevertheless, the two were being trained by Ios, but as time went on Ahji improved with great skill, but Galatius failed to advanced. Frustrated he took off to hide in a small cave. There he sat alone in the dark, contemplating on his destiny, his thoughts weighed great doubts about his future or purpose.Among the cave a shadow figure appeared before him. Galatius felt a shiver down his spine. To deep red eyes glared at his presence with a terrible grin. Galatius readied his sonic boomerang, but the slender dark being laugh and mocked him, the shadow being’s voice sounded female and soft, “And to what end may that worthless weapon bring? I come with an offer you can’t refuse… power that exceeds even your skillful and powerful sister. I desire only one thing…” Galatius desperately replied, “I’m listening…” The dark being grinned and answered, “Your assistance….” Galatius hesitated and then responded, “Uh… I don’t know….” The shadow moved more close and her voice became seductive, “Don’t you want to feel worthy the title of ‘toa’… praised by name and adored by all? Your sister finally respecting you?” then changed her tone to mockery, “…or forever mocked as weak fool who should be fighting?” Her laugh was cruel and sinister, but sounded beautiful and soft.She stood there quite for a few seconds and then laughed again and revealed her true form from the shadows. His eyes met hers and he felt an instant longing to love her though he knew her not. Her body was slender and beautiful and whose built was that of a toa but wore small plates of armor colored as dark steel; she also wore a strange gentle mask, but unknown to him it was a great mask of beauty, a rare mask with the power to distract or influence enemies by causing those who look into her eyes a few seconds of hesitation or insecurity, just enough to give her an unfair advantage in influence or fighting, it caused a glitch in most biomechanical beings emotions, but wears off after a few minutes as long as they don’t dwell on her beauty. However, it was only effective among those of the opposite gender, for it is ineffective with mechnoids, some form of rahi, or those who are blind. She moved slowly towards him touch gently his shoulder gradually and grinned.The dark mistress leant over and kissed Galatius’ lips and for several seconds of feeling her soft lips upon his was breathtaking. He was thrown off guard by such maneuver that he dropped his sonic boomerang. He never felt feelings like this before, but responded, “Who are you and why are you doing this?” She laughed again ignoring his questions, and lifted her hand and placed it on the side of his face, and then channeled energy to him. He felt power surge through him, and his build was no longer weak, for his elemental powers never flowed through him so easily. She disappeared before his eyes laughing until her voice faded into the darkness. Galatius without knowing it was fading and then fainted, lying before her feet in a dark cave. “I’ve been watching you for quite some time now, my dear Galatuis… my sweet love. So gentle and kind I shall rescue you from your ungrateful sister… and then we shall be together forever.” Said the mysterious shadow mistress.
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Seeing as I recently finished Spec Ops (I'm probably going to be constantly mentioning the game) I was inspired to write something similar to it in a sense. What I want to write is a critique or deconstruction of the Order of Mata Nui's ability to not worry about someone judging them for their actions. I also want to make similar to the CIA in that they do things that they think are good but in the end cause more harm. I want to deconstruct their whole "for the good of Mata Nui" attitude, one problem though I'm not sure what I will be able to write for fear it may cross some of BZP's rules for epics. It's still in the planning process so I might need to think a little more. Any thoughts?
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Whispers in the Dark by Portalfig ...Po-Metru. The only place that rivals even Ta-Metru in temperature. The place where sculptors work alongside towering spires of stone. A dry desert of a metropolis, always aspiring to being greater and bigger then it is....This area, this place, is where the Po-Matoran worked. Pulling, shoving, drilling, cursing, whatever they could do to make their job easier they did. They would search the walls of the quarry for the perfect rock for the carvers. They would rip it out with picks and hammers, and then drag it out of the pit. One such group was on their way up already, even though it was so early in the day. Three Matoran, with masks planted firmly on their face, pushing a rock wasn't unusual, except that they are supposed to work in teams of four....A lone Matoran made his way to the group over and around the many obstacles. His Kualsi was practically shining, obviously a new acquisition. He quickly got with the others in the threesome, and they soon had the rock heaved all the way to the top. They started to rest for a bit, breathing heavily, then the Matoran with the Kuasai spoke...."Sorry I'm late," he grunted, "those fire-spitters couldn't find a replacement mask for me."..."I'm still sorry for that," another Matoran replied, "I didn't mean to drop that rock on your head, Pokam."...The one with the Kualsi, Pokam, shrugged it off, joking "I will just have to repay you later then."...There were hearty laughs all around, as Pokam was very mild mannered, and then the posse returned into the quarry for work.~~~~...The sun was setting, work was done. Pokam and his group were wearily making their way back to the dormitory. Half-heartedly, one of the members made another Ta-Matoran joke. There were a few chuckles, but for the most part they stayed silent...."Pokam," one of the others asked "weren't you supposed to order those new tools from Ga-Metru today?"..."Muaka spit!" Pokam spat, "I was!"...He called goodbye to his friends and ran towards the chute station, hoping just to make it to the refinery in time. He sprinted through the station and dived into the chute. He shot along the liquid tunnels towards his destination. He jumped out of the chute mere moments later and ran across the street to the refinery. A Ga-Matoran was closing the door behind her as she closed up...."Wait!" Pokam cried, "I need to place an order!" The Ga-Matoran gasped in surprise, and spun around...."Ah," she said, "I guess I can let you in for a moment, to place the order." Pokam followed her into the building and they both walked to the desk. The other matoran slid into the chair and picked up the pen. She glanced up expectedly, and Pokam looked right back at her as he strove to recall everything he needed to order. The Ga-Matoran wrote everything down, and then placed the order in the stack of others...."That's everything, I think," Pokam said, and the Ga-Matoran looked back up at him...."What is your name?" she asked "I have to put it down. On the page." Pokam replied, and as she wrote it down she said, "Mine's Galni."..."Nice to meet you," Pokam replied, and they stood their awkwardly for a bit...."I have to close up," Galni stated timidly. Pokam replied that he had to go too, and he strode outside. He began to head for the chute station, but then changed his mind when he saw the remnants of the sunset. He loved this time of day, and so he decided that he would walk home. The sun sank even lower in the sky, until the streetlights were the only light left. Most Matoran were home by now, and the streets were mostly empty....The eerie sound of the wind cutting through the streets filled Pokam with chills, and he wasn't even out of Ga-Metru yet. The sound of an armored foot hitting the pebbles that littered the streets cause him to turn around. Nobody was anywhere in sight....Pokam shook off the feeling of unease that was falling over him. He told himself that he was imagining it. He told himself that having a rock dropped on your head really messes with you. He heard the sound again but this time it was accompanied with a short screech, like a birds cry. Pokam shivered involuntarily, and then he heard it a third time. He spun back around and saw a being striding towards him. It looked like a toa, and Pokam sighed with relief. Then it stepped into the halo of light the streetlight cast....Its form was misshapen, broken. Its left leg was shorter than the right, and a useless arm hung limply to its right side. The heartlight enbedded in its chest shone weakly with a sick blue, and black smoke climbed to the night sky from its back. But worst of all was the mask....It was a carvers nightmare, with no flow, no one color to it even. It was a patchwork of many different masks, and little else could be distinguished. A part of a Miru sat near the mouth, giving the creature a lopsided grin. A part of a Hau sat on the cheek, opening a cesspool in the ghastly face. Each piece had different colors, and it looked quite unnerving....The abomination raised its left hand towards Pokam, and it's sharp discolored nails pointed right towards his face. Or even, his mask. Realization dawned on Pokam, and he spun around quickly and took off running the other way. A few blocks down he checked behind him, only to see nobody and nothing. He didn't stop running, because he knew what he had seen, right?...He thought again of that stone that fell on his head earlier that day, and doubt began to creep into his mind. Did he see what was really there? Did that rock do more then everyone thought? He was just being silly Pokam decided, and he began to slow down. Then he recalled the horror of that being, illuminated by the weak light. He kept running, convinced that he was imagining it. Then he saw a convoluted form at the end of the street. It stepped forward, then began running at Pokam much faster than should be possible....Pokam darted down the dark side street, doubt now nowhere in sight. The beast was behind him, chasing after him. They both were alternately being lit up by the streetlight, and then being hidden in darkness. Pokam turned into another alley, his feet scrambling on the pebbles in the street. The light was very dim here, and Pokam was getting tired. He slid behind a wheeled crate, hoping to escape unnoticed. The heavy footsteps of the creature behind him slowed, and then came to a halt. Then the nightmarish being spoke. Its voice was like gravel, hard and unrefined...."I know you are here, my brave Matoran." The thing hissed, "Where are you?" The creature put its good arm against the wall, and raked its nails across it as it walked around the alley. Closer, closer still it approched the shadows where the Matoran was cowering. It stopped on the other side of the crate Pokam was behind and said "All I want is that shiny mask on your face, that is all. Can we talk about this?" Pokam shoved the crate towards the being, and took off running...."Foolish Matoran!" the abomination snapped, and as Pokam looked over his shoulder he saw the being smash the crate against the wall, then taking off towards the helpless Matoran. Pokam turned down yet another side street, but this one led right to Ta-Metru. The bridge loomed mightily over the protodermis river, and Pokam jumped onto the bridge, when he had an idea, he took off towards where he thought the reclamation yards were....The monster stayed close behind, and Pokam could hear it's breathing, muffled and sickly. The fence for the yards was right in front of them, and Pokam knew that he had to get to the other side. He scanned the area, never stopping, when he saw it. A barrel sat near the fence down a way, and Pokam ran over to it and quickly scaled the fence. He glanced to see if he bought himself any more time, only to see the beast leap clean over the fence...."Oh Mata Nui!" Pokam cursed, and then he took off for his destination, the furnace. He scrambled over piles of tools and masks, the abyssal thing behind him, catching up. Pokam scaled another pile, and saw the entrance. His dashed in, and without stopping to catch his breath he ripped off his mask, and sent it flying into the hot furnace...."You'll never get it now!" he called, before he felt a claw press down on his face and he passed out.~~~...He was found the next day, maskless and with his armor melted after being so close to the furnace for so long. His heartlight was dark, stone dead. A crowd of Matoran shoved to get closer, except one at the very back. She looked over everyones' heads, and then turned around. She was almost late to work, luckily she got something to help her with that last night....She walked into an alley, and then suddenly the blue Rau on her face shifted into a brown Kualsi. She looked towards the refinery, then she disappeared, reappearing on the other street...."This mask will be quite useful." Galni thought.Yeah, here we are. This is my first work that I have been pleased with enough to put it here on BZP. I am not too happy with the ending, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with it. So I didn't do anything. It has ~1,556 words in it, and any and all comments are appreciated!
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From Lord Koji's post to begin the previous topic: This is now the new topic for all things tall and faceless, so long as I didn't miss another previous one on one of my five searches of COT.
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Nektann watched as the Queen of Metru-Nui entered the dining hall of his fortress. She was a beautiful Vortixx, tall and powerful with piercing blue eyes. She sat down at Nektann's table. "How was your trip?" the Skakdi asked. "About as well as can be expected," said the Vortixx, "Now will you kindly tell me why you cannot control your people?" Nektann sneered at her with his massive teeth. "Pardon me," he said darkly, "But what about the Matoran rebellions in Metru-Nui?" "The Matoran are weak and unintelligent," said the Vortixx, "Your people on the other hand, are violent, dangerous and rather dimwitted." Her words angered Nektann, but he wasn't about to show it. The Vortixx was Teridax's favorite ruler. If anyone tried to kill her, they would be dead within seconds. Still, he understood what she said. The Skakdi were well known for their violence, and could cause massive amounts of damage if not well controlled. However, he was not about to let her insult his kind. "Vortixx, you call my people crude and primitive," he rumbled, "But we were here before you and your kind, and we will surely be here when they are gone." "What makes you so sure of that?" The Vortixx said as a mirthful smile spread across her face. "We can trust each other, for on thing," muttered Nektann. "Let's get down to business," said the Vortixx as she crossed her arms, "Why have you sent for me?" Nektann looked away. "I need a weapon. A powerful weapon." "What do you intend to do with such a weapon?" "I'm going to use it against the rebels." "You wish to eliminate them?" "No. Why would I destroy potential recruits? I only intend to scare them with it." "You'd really risk betrayal over a few worthless rebels?" asked the Vortixx. Nektann laughed. "I honestly thought you of all people would know better," he said, "Have you never heard of using fear as a weapon?" "Only when I know they fear me," the Vortixx muttered. "My kind has been using fear for generations," the Skakdi said as he grinned, "Installing fear in your followers is truly a wonder to behold. They work harder, and are far more obedient. I am certain you employ the same principle to your city." "That's true," said the Vortixx, "So did you have a weapon in mind?" "Not really. Some kind of explosive would be nice," said Nektann. The Vortixx smiled. "How much are you willing to offer?" "You'd be surprised," answered Nektann, "Do we have a deal?" "I'll need some time to think about it," the Vortixx said as she stood up. Nektann called to a green-colored Skakdi that stood in the doorway. "Rakar, show her to her room." Roodaka ascended up the stairwell of the tower, running her hand against the rough, jagged stone that made up the wall. Ahead of her was Rakar, who lit the way with a torch. As they continued their climb, the wall began to feel different. It became less natural, and seemed to have defined shape and texture. She looked to see that the wall was a mixture of patchwork carvings. It only took her a second to determine that the wall had once been a mural, and had been cannibalized to build the fortress. The pictures were scrambled, and Roodaka could barely make out what it meant. A particular picture caught her eye. At first she thought it was a Skakdi. But then she saw the smaller figures that surrounded it. They were clearly Skakdi. They were fleeing from what appeared to be a monstrous giant. Its mouth was opened in a silent roar. "What's this?" she asked. Rakar turned and followed her gaze. He snorted. "Myths and legends," he replied, "That's a carving of Irnakk." Roodaka could sense the feeling of hatred in his voice. "Irnakk?" "It's a story they tell us to keep us in line. They say that Irnakk will get you if you don't obey the warlords," Rakar paused, "But that's not the whole story. They say old Irnakk used to rule Zakaz, until Artahka came." "Impossible," Roodaka said, "No one has ever seen Artahka." "It's a legend," Rakar said irritably, "Anyway he came and banished Inrakk somehow. But like I said, it's only a legend." The beast felt movement. The stone on its back rumbled. The motion stirred up the beast's usually dormant mind. The shaking rock made it remember the sensation of movement, a sensation that it craved to feel again. It needed to move, to hunt, to kill. Kill. The word repeated over and over in its mind. When it was free once more, the beast would kill the one who had imprisoned it, and anyone else who stood in its way. And then he would once again reign over his kingdom. Jarok continued to pound away at the stone that was known as the Skull. The enormous rock had lay undisturbed for as long as anyone could remember. It had received its name for its grim appearance, which was that of a skull enlarged to massive proportions. "How much rock do we need again?" he asked the foreman. "All of it," responded the Skakdi. Jarok sighed and continued to work. Suddenly, there was a loud crack. The workers cheered as half of the stone fell away. Jarok sighed in relief. Now that the skull had split in half, cutting it up into pieces would be much easier. He and his fellow Skakdi moved into start working when someone screamed. Jarok was shocked at the noise. It was a sound of pure terror. Before Jarok could see what had happened, the ground began to quake violently. The two halves of the Skull were pushed aside as something enormous began to emerge from the earth. Dirt and rocks flew everywhere as a monstrous bellow filled the air. The noise filled Jarok with fear and dread, something that was not normally felt by a Skakdi. Jarok was so stunned that he was unable to process what was going on. All he could hear were the screams of his companions, and the roar that drowned them out. All he could see was the golden-spined monster. The last thing Jarok saw was an impossibly huge mouth, and row upon row of dagger-sized teeth. http://www.bzpower.c...c=804#entry9324
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The Matoran awoke. His head felt groggy, and his body ached all over. As his eyes came into focus he saw that he was in some sort of laboratory. He automatically tried to stand up, but found that he was chained to the floor. He looked around and saw two others in his nearby, a Vortixx and a Skakdi. He was shocked and appalled at their appearances. The Vortixx was strapped in a gurney and had dozens of tubes had been inserted into her body. Strange liquids were being pumped in as others were taken out. She looked horrible. Her armor was not the healthy, ebony color it should have been. It was instead a sickly dull gray, and riddled with streaks of rust. Her hair was a tangled mess. As the Matoran looked her over, he noticed a long, sutured scar along down the length of her torso. The Vortixx suddenly made a strange gurgling noise. Her head turned slowly to look at the Matoran. He could see that her face had once been perfectly flawless. But now it was streaked with several jagged scars. At first glance they appeared to be the random slashes of some crazed attacker. But as the Matoran continued to look he could see there was a sort of pattern to them. He could see the dull, drugged look in her watery blue eyes. They seemed just lucid enough to be aware of her predicament, yet too disoriented to do anything about it. The Skakdi was chained to the wall. He was grotesquely skeletal, looking as though his body had been warped and stretched into his current shape. Mechanical implants were scattered throughout his person, though they seemed to do more harm than good. Gears and cogs turned endlessly on his limbs and joints. He had no head-spine, and it appeared that his skull had been operated on at some point. The look on his face was one of pure madness, as it was locked in a perpetual grin. He peered at the Matoran hungrily. “Don’t want to look, do you?” he muttered, “Don’t want to look.” The Matoran didn’t respond. The Skakdi spoke again. “Don’t let him poison you,” he said as he gestured to the Vortixx, “He’ll put his poisons in, and take different poisons out.” The Vortixx moaned miserably, as though she were trying to speak. All she managed to do was drool a little. The Matoran was mortified. “W-where am I?” he whispered. The Skakdi giggled. “Don’t know,” he responded, “I asked but he never told me. He has something planned for you. He had a plan for me. He had a plan for her. He has plans for all of his rats.” “I’m not a rat,” breathed the Matoran. This prompted a bone-chilling cackle from the Skakdi. “Of course you are. You’re here, aren’t you?” His face suddenly turned very serious. “Or are you? You’re not a hallucination, I hope?” The Matoran shook his head. The Skakdi looked relieved. “Thank goodness. For a moment I thought I’d been poisoned.” The odd being sighed and looked at the Vortixx. “I remember that before we were rats, she was the sharpest, most alert being that I ever knew. But then he came and did this to her. She hasn’t been the same ever since.” Moments after he spoke, the Vortixx let out a wild shriek. She slowly thrashed around in her restraints, pitifully crying out. “What’s happening to her?” asked the frightened Matoran. The Skakdi looked at his companion with tearful eyes. “It’s the poisons,” he whispered, “They sometimes…induce hallucinations.” After for what seemed like an eternity, the Vortixx began to calm down. She finally settled back into her unnerving state of forced tranquility. The Skakdi continued to look at her affectionately. “She’s still beautiful though,” he murmured, “Unlike myself.” He glanced down at his malformed body. “He says he improved me. I’m not really so certain.” The skeletal creature smiled sheepishly at the Matoran. “Don’t tell him I said that when he comes.” “Who is he?” asked the mystified Matoran. The question drove the Skakdi into muttering. “His is the house of pain. His is the hand that makes. His is the hand that wounds. His is the hand that heals.” The Skakdi began to repeat these phrases over and over again. Meanwhile, two new figures came into the laboratory. As they neared the Matoran, he shuddered. Even from across the room they seemed to irradiate a sense of madness and death. He could now see them in greater detail. They bore similar features; they were both green and bat-like. The tall one’s claws twitched apprehensively as he examined the Matoran. “A fine specimen indeed,” he said as he grinned a wicked smile, “You did well, Vican.” “Thank you, master,” the small one replied in a hoarse tone. The Matoran felt nothing but fear as the green creatures reached out for him with their razor-sharp claws.
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Thank god you've found the note pad. My name is Frank Kamac and I'm a building inspector. Please listen to me and don't finish reading this note pad, just turn around and walk out the door, there are things here and you just need to leave and forget this place. If you're reading this I hope to god you took my note pad out with you because if you didn't the doors to the funhouse should be closing right about now. My name is Frank Kamac and I'm a building inspector, I was sent here by the state of Vermont to condemn the old fair grounds. If I remember correctly (I'm almost sure I don't, I am very hungry and thirsty), the grounds were normal as long forgotten fair grounds could be. I mean, the kind of places where thousands of people used to gather are always scary and surreal when they're abandoned. It's especially scary to me; I remember when this place was alive and beautiful. The lights of the rides and games mixed with the sound of music. The droning of aimless light hearted conversation filled the air. My nostrils were invaded by the smell of batter frying. It was an all around warm feeling, troubles were left outside the gates and only life and happiness could be found here. But that was many years ago, the light bulbs are missing or broken. The bandstand has rotted way leaving nothing but the concert foundation. I believe that the fryers were sold to that burger shack on south street right after the grounds closed. There’s noting left here but a few buildings and the iron skeletons of rides. I started off my inspection with midway. As I said before all the rides are rusted skeleton looking shells of their former glory. No amount of nostalgia could make anyone think they're safe. I moved father down the midway crossing off buildings as I went, most had completely collapsed but then I saw something out of place. It was the house of mirrors; it looked like it was still in half decent shape. I never liked the house of mirrors even as a child. The carny that owned it scared me a great deal. In my teenaged years I found out my fears were justified. The carny had been caught attempting to slash to death a child for breaking one of his mirrors. The carny was arrested and the fair grounds sued to bankruptcy. Since the building looked like it was in good shape I was required to have a look inside. I figured just a little peek inside the door and I could leave it forever. I slid the bolt holding the heavy aluminum door closed and walked inside. Every single mirror was shattered, like someone had come through with a hammer and bashed them all in a fit of rage. I walked closer to the mirrors when I heard the door slam behind me with a resounding crash. I tried to open it but it was too heavy, I tried smashing at the hinges with my suitcase but it was no use. My only option was to look for another door (They have to have another door right? Who builds something with one door?) I wandered the darkened hallways using the small amounts of light coming through the holes in the roof to navigate. After wandering for quite sometime I finally found a straight hallway with no mirrors. I squinted my eyes and I saw another door. I was so happy that I had finally found a way out I was beginning to think that I was trapped forever. I grabbed the door handle and let out a yelp. It was hot! Like someone had lit a large fire on the other side. My hand was badly burned I had to rip a bit of my suit to bandage it. At that point I broke down, I just sat down and cried. I had no idea how long I had been trapped in here, I had no idea if I was going to get out, I had no idea about anything at all. So I just cried. I eventually stopped crying and fell asleep on the dusty floor. When I woke up again the sun had gone down. I decided it would be best if I look for walls near the outside and try to break through to freedom. As I left the mirror-less hallway to start my search something seemed off but I continued to search, gently hitting the mirrors to see if had found the edge of the maze. Then it hit me; I was taping on mirrors, not the wood backing. I stumbled back in shock. All the mirrors had been fixed; every last mirror was perfect and clean. Not just mirror clean but they were like liquid metal they were so clean and clear. I thought stress might be getting to me so I had to touch the mirrors to be sure. The edges were smooth and warm. I moved my hands from the corners inward, probing every inch. The center of every mirror was hot enough to light a cigarette but the heat did not radiate off the mirrors. I don’t know how many hours I spent moving my hands around the mirrors it was just so bizarre that I couldn’t get my mind off the mirrors. I had to touch them I had to feel them. Eventually I was able to stop groping but at least one hand had to be on a mirror always. I don’t know why I didn’t question this behavior at the time, it just seemed natural too me. It’s strange now that I think about it but without the suns light I made many realizations. The first was this place was too big, the second was my clothes had fallen apart as if they had aged decades in the time I had been trapped but I kept wandering until I collapsed. When I woke up once more I realized I was in some kind off basement. I found the stairs and realized a made a right turn out of the mirror-less hallway instead of a left. I rationalized not noticing the stairs by saying I was dehydrated and not thinking properly. The mirrors on had been shattered where as the mirrors in the basement were not. I decided to spend most my time in the mirror-less hallway since I felt it was the safest. I debated in my head if I should wrap my suit around my good hand and try to open the back door. One part of me said it would protect me from the heat but another said my jacket would burst into flames as soon as a touched it. I kept this debate in my head going as long as possible I felt it was a good way to distract myself from the whole situation. The sun went down again and the reflections form the shattered mirror in the dark really started too disturbed me so I headed downstairs again. As soon as my foot touched the last step I was compelled to place a hand on the mirrors again. It felt like a natural reaction I couldn’t help it. I didn’t wander much that night; I was too tiered form hunger. I found a relatively clean spot and sat down. I didn’t move, I didn’t think, I just sat and stared at my reflection. I started to doze but every time I was about to sleep I felt something small and soft brush up against me. My eyes popped wide open every time this happened but I was too tired to react any further and far too tired to move away. The dozing and brushing kept up for what felt like hours but eventually I was allowed to sleep I was woken up with a jolt, there was an impossibly loud screech coming from what seemed like all directions. I woke up in such a state of shock that I didn’t even think, I just started running for the stairs. I ran faster then I ever had up those stairs and not even thinking, as soon as I reached the top I turned into the mirror-less hallway. My mind snapped at the thought of being burned by the door but I couldn’t stop running. I crashed into it with a thump. To my amazement I was not burned! I stood up and quickly grabbed the handle with my good hand and I wasn’t burned! I quickly ripped the door open to see nothing but a brick wall. My mind started to race “Why would someone put a door in front of a brick wall! How was the door hot there’s nothing behind it! “ I felt the rage build inside me. I grabbed my suitcase and started smashing at the wall. I was so filled with anger that I got and adrenalin rush. I just started hammering away at it like a machine and that’s when it happened; the wall cracked and a few bricks fell. All my anger and rage quickly turned to hope. I started removing bricks from the hole I had made with my suitcase and slowly took apart the wall. When I ripped a hole big enough to step through I realized it was another stair well. It led down to a hall way lit with florescent lights. I decided to take the left turn. It led me to the basement mirror maze. It turns out they were one-way mirrors which opened when pressed properly from the viewable side. I went back to the stairs and went straight this time. I followed a long hallway and came to another aluminum door. Something sent a chill through me as a touched the door handle. Worried I opened it slowly. What I saw made me vomit. I saw a big room with a medical table with straps, a tray of knives next to it, and several large shelves. On the shelves was the most disgusting horrifying thing I have ever seen and I hope I never see anything like it again. There were at least thirty jars with the preserved partially dissected bodies of children. As I looked across the room in shock and horror I noticed a hatch with sunlight coming through it. As I slowly walked towards it I heard a strange wet sound. I looked slowly over my shoulder to the shelves. All of the bodies were staring at me. They looked deep into me with their dead eyes and I looked at them in greater fear then I have ever know. I became a blubbering mass but they would not stop looking at me. They all suddenly spoke in unison: “Tell the others what you have seen.” After hearing that I fainted. When I woke all the bodies were in their original positions. I walked slowly to the hatch, trying to not make the slightest sound out of fear that I would “wake” them. As soon as I reached the surface I ran back into town as fast as my hungry body could carry me and I followed my instructions. I started screaming what I had seen at any person who came in my path. I was soon arrested and taken to the hospital. The doctors said I was severely dehydrated and delirious and that what I saw was all hallucination. To this day no one believes me. I came back and left this note pad for anyone who’s stupid enough to enter. If you’re trapped like I was, when you enter the large room in the basement, please don’t turn your head no matter what sounds they make. I can still see them in my head. They won’t leave you after you leave the house of mirrors. They made me write this, they won’t leave me until the others know! They won’t leave they won’t leave they won’t… ---------------------------------------------------------- I didn't edit for grammar because I'm a horrible editor.
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