19
Chaos The Black Knight
I don't know if I'll make another book, because I'm not certain how many chapters in this story is going to take place. So... Yea. Whenever I finish the book, I will gladly let all of you know :)
Intro
Something ancient is released. Something deadly. The world is thrown into war, and as all is finally coming to rest, and a stop is coming about to the mayhem, word of a terrifying dark magic is spread through rumor. A boy steps forward, to become a man, as he ventures on a daring journey to sit into his chair of destiny, so that what was meant to be for a thousand years, can come about, to allow him to guarantee the forthcoming prophecy.
Chapter 1: The Beginning
Chapter 2: The Mournful Dusk
Chapter 3: Hated
Chapter 4: Thank you, Stranger
Chapter 5: Rejection
Chapter 6: Raw Instinct
Chapter 7: Punishment
Chapter 8: Day one
Chapter 1-Click to reveal content
Chapter 1
The Beginning
One fateful night, a husband was standing by his wife, as she gave birth to their child. The sun had set, and the creatures of the night had come about. He had to protect his beloved from them. They had been holding out for far to long. But tonight, was the night the monsters would finally break through the walls. It was a long hard night. And when the sun came up in the morning, the husband lay on the ground giving way to his last breaths, he looked at his newborn son. He held him in his arms, and his last words escaped his pale lips. "This boy will set way to a great chain of events... He will bring way to a new era... I feel it... He's special." And then contempt that the sun was up, and his family safe, he finally let himself slip away, into eternal darkness.
After that, the monsters seemed to leave him alone. It's as if something greater was in work, keeping them back. But why? They would never know. And so the boy grew up. Never knowing his father. His mother and him were living on their farm, tending to the plants and animals. It was a simple and lonely life. But it got them along. Before to long, at nightfall, more and more monsters started attacking. As if to repeat the events that happened to his father. His mother was old, and her body could not handle the stress, of both the farm work, and fighting them off. She was cast bedridden before to long. Her heart was giving out on her. The threatens of near death, were to much. And it did a number on her.
The farm boy knew what he had to do. He had to save her. He had to go to the Nether and find a blaze rod. His mother had taught him the ways of potion and medicine mixing, to keep himself alive. But recently a monster had claimed their brewing stand. He had to make another.f He grabbed the spare obsidian in the chest, a piece of iron and flint, and performed the ritual to make a portal. Praying that he might live, he entered the unknown.
He arrived in a Cavern. In the center was a pool of lava, and around the lava was a edge, leading directly to a nether fortress that was buried in Nether Rack. On top of what is left of the Nether Fortress, sat a Blaze. He started hiking his way to the opposite side of the cavern, making his way over to the fiery being.
He was pushed down. His head slammed into the ground. He looked up, tears in his eyes to see what happened. When he looked up, a ghast had blown way into the cavern while fighting a pigman. Lava drained in through the hole. Before long this place would be full. He had to hurry. He sprinted towards the Nether Fortress, arriving, he couldn't find a way up.... Then he saw it. He ran and jumped off of a Nether Rock, pushing himself onto the wall, and in a crouching position, he launched himself off the wall, heading straight for the Blaze. He drew his sword back, and with all his weight upon landing, thrust the sword into the Blaze's core. The creature hissed in a metallic tone, then burnt away. He searched through the ashes, and found a Blaze Rod. He picked it up, mesmerized by it... It was warm... So warm.... Fire swirled around its surface... But didn't burn. It seemed like the most ancient fire known to man... It seemed to have a heart beat even. Pulsing with warmth then fading back. It was pulling him in. Trying to keep him here. To live with it in comfort of the warmth forever...
"Focus!" He said, snapping himself out of it. "If I keep this up much longer, the lava will catch up with me." He sprinted back to the portal as fast as he could. The lava wouldn't reach him, he knew, but the thought still scared him to the bone. He got to the Nether Portal, and rite before entering, another explosion from the Ghast fight knocked him off his feet. He fell into a cave that was blown open by the ghast's attack, off to the side of the one he was previously in. He fell flat on his back, knocking the breath out of him. His vision darkened. He reached for his sword but couldn't just couldn't reach it! His chest felt bear and wide open as he had no sword to protect himself. He reached, and felt the familiar hilt press into his hand. Feeling his breath come back, along with his vision, he rolled over, and stood to look at a very strange sight indeed.
What he looked at, was a black orb, swirling with faces screaming and withering in agony. Within it, a pure white box giving off an eire glow, he could almost see through it. He went over to it, going to pick up the white box. His hand went through the black orb, with a wince of pain, he touched the white box. It snapped open. "What's going on? What... IS this?" Darkness started to collect at the center of the empty white box. "Finally," the boy thought, "the box is finally full with this darkness whatever it is." And with that, there was a black explosion. All light in the room was taken away. He couldn't see, there was no light. Suddenly, he wished he had just went through the portal, as all of his hope faded away.
He opened his eyes to see that he had been slammed into the wall from something within the darkness. He tried his best to inhale, but he was losing consciousness, as he was slammed into the wall even harder. He tried to think. He tried just to breath. But he could not. At the verge of losing consciousness, he realized just how hurt he was. As he looked up, he saw smoke everywhere. It looked exactly like the black orb... Except it was... misty... Then he noticed... The faces weren't in the smoke... Something escaped.
Then he saw it. He focused, and saw a red beast, as red as blood, thick armored skin, covered in spikes and a bony exoskeleton, swirling in different shades of red. And then it spoke. In multiple voices, as deep and dark as the orb itself. It was heartless. It was bone chillingly evil. "Thank you for being the pawn to release us, Mortal. We've been trapped in that prison for thousands of years. The white case was created by a paladin long ago. Only that with a pure heart could open it and let us free."
He ran. As fast as he could. Whatever it was, it would kill him. And then he realized as he jumped through the portal. "I have fought Zombies, Creepers, even Endermen! But never, could I have imagined this... This demon is in a hole other league... I thought these things were just legends from children's stories!!!" He came out through the other side. Lucky to be alive. The demons could follow him through the portal, but fortunately enough for him, his portal was far out and away from his house. They could not follow him home.
The demons looked at the portal. And in unison, they spoke in the language from their time. "Un al fen liiv faal gol, zeymah, ahrk briinah!", "Our destruction will wither the Earth, brothers, and sisters!"
Chapter 2-Click to reveal content
Chapter 2
The Mournful Dusk
His children ran and laughed and played. Their innocent smiles, bobbing up and down as they played a game of tag. His oldest daughter looked over, and he smiled idly in response. His mind was somewhere else that day.
He hadn't seen those creatures since he released them from their.... "prison." He prayed to the gods that he never learned the mind sickening intent of those monsters. His mother had died that night. But she died happily. The break of dawn had just come about, she looked up into her son's face, and said ever so simply "It was fate." He slammed his fist into the table from greif, and anger that he couldn't stop it. He couldn't figure out what she meant. "NO!" he almost shouted, but managed to keep it down. "What is fate? Why would fate bring such a horrible night upon my mother?" He watched his children for a moment longer "No," he thought to himself. "That wasn't what she meant. She wasn't talking about her death. Something deep within her told her of something coming up... but what?"
His wife sat down next to him, and leaned on him, jarring him out of his thoughts.
"Don't think of that! Please. It hurts to watch you in this heart wrenching pain." A tear rolled down her cheek. "Please. We're here for you now! We aren't going to leave you. We're your family."
He looked up at her and smiled "You're right. I'm sorry.I haven't thought of it in a long time. I just... I felt something this morning. Something very unsettling, in the very depths of my heart. Something is coming."
Tray remembered the countless nights at the portal. The demons hadn't come out of the portal. After the night with his mother, he grabbed his dead father's sword, the word "Will" carved into the blade. It was his father's blade, his father loved that blade as much as he loved himself. He used it to fight off many monsters until they could get a good home.
He went back to the portal, and for hours he tried to break just one link of obsidian from the portal with his fists. He wanted to sob. They had broken the last diamond pick only nights before. He wasn't strong enough to break the obsidian barehanded. So, he waited. He waited for weeks for those abominations to come out of the portal after him. But they didn't. He waited for months. Finally assured they wouldn't come, he left the portal for good.
"I think they've finally come" Tray said. "No! Don't tell me that! It can't be Tray! What will we do? We live here! Our life is here! What about our children?" His wife was near tears again. Tray looked off into the setting sun for a long time. "I don't know." He said finally. He couldn't look at his wife. He heard her rush off to tell the kids to hurry inside to the basement. He just sat. And watched the sun set. Even the sun seemed sad., as if, if it were to go to sleep, it could get rid of all it's problems, and drown itself in darkness.
Chapter 3-Click to reveal content
Chapter 3
Hated
His toy snapped clean in half. The children backed away from the abnormal child. Then they laughed. "You're a freak!" They walked away, laughing. He didn't mean to. He was being careful with the toy. Then it just... broke. The only thing that ran through his head was, 'Why? Why was I born like this?'
He looked over to see Ruby, one of the workers at the Orphanage, talking to the children, seeing what the commotion was all about. Then she looked over to see Drac, with the broken toy, and sneered in disgust as she walked the children to go back to their room. 'You'll be safe in there' he heard her murmmer. He looked down at his hand, wishing he could escape from his brute strenght. But you can't run away from yourself.
There was one upside to his freakish strength and that was how he could get the work around the orphanage done. So he got some allowance, the only thing that brought joy in his life. He got up off the cold wooden floor of the orphanage, and walked outside. He walked into the morning air, hanging a right to go into town. This was his favorite part of the walk, being out here in the woods, he walked down the worn path where grass was starting to grow again. Winter was approaching and people had already stocked up. There was less traveling to town, so the grass was starting to grow back over. He saw the first building on the left, he was getting close to the market. He entered town, trying his best to ignore all of the people on the street.
None of the townsfolk liked him. They tried to act like they just didn't see Drac, but they were walking in a perfect oval around him, just to avoid him. He could always hear their murmuring, he could see their disgusted and frightened glances, and he could feel their hate.
The Store Clerk put his earnings up after counting the total for the day. Glancing up at Drac, he spontaneously returned to his "important task" pulling the coins out pretending to count the makings of the day, just to avoid eye contact. Putting a toy similar to the one he had previously broken on the counter, he idly gave the Clerk a copper coin. He shook his head when the Clerk started rubbing his fingers together, indicating that it was not enough. "This is the usual amount, and you know it" Drac said. Hurriedly, he grabbed his toy and walked out, starting off toward home.
He heard a bell ring. The bell that indicated that it was time to go to the Dining Room, and have dinner.
He played with his peas, pushing them to one side of the plate back to the other thoughtlessly. The table was completely silent. As it was every night. He didn't feel like eating. "May I be excused?" Drac asked. No one looked up. "You may." Ruby said quickly, as if she was anticipating it, waiting for it, pleading for it.
He left the table, and went to his room. As he lie down, he could hear the children laughing, and the staff of the orphanage laughing, as if the dead silence that had recently occupied the Dining Hall, had never existed. A tear rolled down his cheek, as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.
He woke up to a small knock. "Come in" he said with little thought. But the door didn't budge. He lifted his head a little and waited for a moment. Finally, a reply came to his invitation. "Get out. Just leave. No one wants your company. You're a menace! Just get out of here before you put some kind of curse on us, or some horrible plague!"
He had expected it. A tear rolled down his cheek. But it didn't make the stabbing pain of their hate hurt any less. He knew he wasn't wanted here. People feared him, many people were afraid to sleep at night just knowing he existed. The shadow under the door disapeared, and he could see the light from the candle fading away.
For a good long time, he just lay there. But finally he managed to bring himself to his feet, he began packing some clothes, and prepared to leave. One day he arrived at this orphanage, and was loved. People looked at the adorable newborn baby, and felt a ping of sorrow that someone had abandoned him. Then the accidents started happening. When people went to pinch his cheek, as he went to grab their hand to pull it away there was the sound of a crack as their bones broke. He was different.
The cool night air brushed against his face as he fleeted into the woods. Drac was nearing the edge of where citizens wandered, where he could be free. "Finally. I can be free. I can live away from all this hate. I can stop scaring people." He saw something in his peripheal, suddenly he was on the ground. His vision was blurry, and his head was throbbing with pain. A dark figure emerged.
"My my, look what we have here," the Shop Clerk said, smacking his club against his palm. "A little freak, who thinks he can go around town. telling me how much I'm going to sell the toy for!" Two more figures emerged. The second man spoke,"It would be a shame if he was wandering around the woods at night and a black horned fatch got a hold of him." The third one spoke up "Too bad no one would care." They beat him mercilessly.
As darkness grasped his mind, and consciousness faded away, only one thought inhabited his mind "I am different. I am... hated."
Chapter 4-Click to reveal content
Chapter 4
Thank you, Stranger
Drac looked up and saw a silhouette of a man in armor, standing next to a horse. A soldier, the man was a soldier. He slowly became aware of his surroundings, the frogs were croaking in a nearby pond out in the woods. The soldier panted heavily, looking down at something. There were three mangled figures on the ground.
With a dull realization he recognized them as the 3 men who had beaten him. "Hey kid, are you conscious back there?" He tried to say yes in reply, but his voice wouldn't come. All he could force out was a low pitched groan. "It's good to know you're at east alive. I'll get you to safety. Don't worry about a thing. Just relax kid, I'll carry you, you're going to be fine." But even if the soldier wasn't going to carry him, he couldn't summon the strength, or the will to walk. Darkness enclosed his mind, as he grasped desperately to stay awake, it was to no avail. He fell into the depths of madness.
Soft wool enclosed Drac, as he tossed and turned finding blissful comfort. He shot up, on both feet atop the bed. Immediately he became dizzy, almost falling back over, he decided to sit, realizing that he was in no danger. Drac was inside of a damp old cottage, thick curtains were drawn across all of the windows, only letting small cracks of light into the room, Shelves on the wall held strange objects cast over in cobwebs, and a dusty eleborat book-case sat in the corner. The embroidered polished wood held strange, unfamiliar characters.
"So you're awake at last!" the old man's voice did indeed have an old ring to it, but also had a energetic and joyous tone set, almost as though the old man were an eight year-old with a new bicycle. Drac jumped up again in alarm, ready to do whatever was necessary. "Now is that any way to thank the man who took you in under his wing, after you were saved in the woods from a couple of shop keeps? Sit down before you hurt yourself again."
Pain suddenly leapt over Drac as he realized he was indeed wounded. Drac had been so confused, and then startled, only moments before he hadn't noticed it, but from head to toe he was covered in gauze, bruises and scratches.
The old man was in shape, and had a little brawn, but at the same time had wrinkly slack skin over his broad muscles. He had a light build, but was well muscled for his size, and especially for his age; although you could hardly tell through his baggy clothes. And then something caught Drac's attention. Inside the pupil of the old man's eyes, three swirls in each one, connecting in the middle. They were pure white, and very small, but they were there. They dilated with the pupil whenever a candle started flickering and getting dimmer.
The old man spontaneously threw his hands up in the air, scaring the wits out of Drac With an exasperated look on his face he said, "And still! No thanks! The nerve of kids these days. It's ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous, why if my mother caught me acting like this, she'd still be alive to this day just so she could deal out my punishment!" "Th-Thank you! Sorry sir!" Drac hurriedly replied. "Oh so you can speak? I was starting to wonder if those men had rendered you brain dead." A gleam came from behind the old man, as a soldier slipped past him. "So how are you holdin up there champ? You took quite a beating out there. I was happening by on my usual guard route, when I saw those three men. I don't know what someone like you could have done to make them so angry, you hardly look like you're past five years old, but we won't treat you like that. Not here." Drac looked absently at the ground.
"I'm fine." He replied in an absent voice. The soldier looked down at him for a moment or two. "Where do your folks live? I can take you back home and catch them up on what happened, they must be worried sick, I'll let them know you're alright now." Drac didn't say anything, as he tried to remember the last time he ever even saw his parents, or what they looked like. As the old man looked at Drac, he felt a ping of sympathy. "I suppose you'll be living with me then. An orphanage isn't any place for a kid to grow up at." Drac was shocked. All he could do was look up at the old man, his eyes watering up, but he held it back, "You don't want me around. I'll just cause you harm, just give me my things and
I-" "None-sense, I'll have you stay in this room, I insist. I am Lord Crewe Forthwind, Prophecy Keeper of Redwood. But I'd prefer if you'd just call me Crewe."
The times Drac spent with Crewe, were his best. All his life sense as far back as he could remember, people feared him and his brute strength. And it was because he had such freakish abnormal strength. Over the months he came to realize that here, in this town, even as people began to discover his brute stength, towns people treated him as casually and with as much care as they do everyone else in day to day life.
His very first night, he almost came to tears, from relief alone, that he had escaped the discrimination of others. He did an honest day of work, helping Crewe with his study of old books, keeping scrolls and volumes in order, and helping the towns people here and there; building a new shack, or finding Johnson's dog Scrappy. For the most part, Drac helped Crewe in his profession. Taking the scrolls and books and organizing them, figuring out what is what, and what goes where. In all this time working with Crewe, he learned a lot. Some books, Crewe didn't let Drac read or organize, They went into a restricted area, an area that Drac was not allowed to go. Crewe said that there are some things Drac just can't know.
Drac began to dream. That soldier saved his life. Without that soldier, he would be dead, out in the woods, and no one would have cared. But because of him, he was now living a wonderful life. For a long time, he didn't know what he wanted to do in life. He just stumbled about aimlessly. But he knew now. He wanted to be a soldier. He wanted to use his strange strength to protect those who could not protect themselves. He knew that his legend, his story, rested within the path of a warrior.
Chapter 5-Click to reveal content
Chapter 5
Rejection
Drac hurried into town, excited to get home. The slip of paper wihzzed and flapped, nearly tearing on several occasions because he took long strides, walking as fast as he could to get home, the wind whipping past his face. He burst through the door, and slapped the paper onto the desk. Crewe, stunned, finished his sentence, put down the feather, and picked up Dracs paper to read it.
"Drac has proven to the Lands of the Millennium that said individual, is worthy to join the ranks that make up the defense of the Millennium. The Millennium are in much need of fresh blood, to counter-act the citizen revolts. The individual is of 15 years of age or older, and is hereby legal to join the Millennium ranks. Should said individual join, he should report to Captain Galleon, the head of the Recruiting and Training Division, at the fourth moon, at the 11th phase.
Signed
Captain Dreth Galleon"
"I really want to go. I can bring justice to the people for once! I can be a soldier!" Crewe stared off for a moment. He looked at Drac, and replied simply. "No." Drac immediately protested, "But Crewe! This is my dream! This is my story! I have to do this!" Crewe's hard unwavering stare gave for a moment, showing a hole of sorrow and understanding for Drac. But it went as fast as it came. "I can't let you. You have a life here. Responsibilities to get too. The villagers need you. We can't abandon them."
Drac only nodded. He understood. And Crewe was right. He hadn't just said it because he didn't want Drac to get hurt, and Drac knew it. The towns-people needed him. Since he came, they've begun depending on him. Although he saw the truth behind Crewe's words, it did not lessen the pain that he could not fullfil his dream.
He turned around, and walked into his room. There, lying on the desk, was a request sent from one of the villagers. Thinking Crewe must have put it there for him, Drac picked it up, reading something on how a man needs an escort through the woods to get through the brush with his wagon so that he can deliver his goods to the next town. In the woods, allot of creatures roamed, and knocked trees over, many of which block the path. The man would need Drac to help remove them so that he could continue his journey uninterrupted.
He grabbed his things, ready to head back into town. Just because he wasn't ready to get back to work, due to the depressing incident with Crewe, didn't mean that the villagers didn't still need him. He had to do what he always had. He headed into town, to find the traveler.
The big buildings began as he left his property off into the woods. He could smell the sweet bread coming from the right, from Helena's Bakery, and could see the women at a clothes shop hanging up new dresses for today's display to his left. At a cross section, surrounded by shops, stood a man at a street corner, looking for Drac to help him. He didn't look familiar. Must be a newcomer to the town.
The man looked a little skittish, as if he didn't know what to anticipate. The man spotted Drac immediately, and looked like he was about to turn and run. Drac, confused, finally reached the man, and handed him the paper. "Oh thank god. You're just the guy who the old Prophecy Keeper up in that shack told me would help me. I thought you were another mugger. On the previous town that I passed through before moving here, I move allot, I saw a man get mugged out in the middle of the street! And then I saw a big built guy like yourself walking down the street and I almost lost it. I guess I'm just a little jumpy. It's been a long ride. Er, sorry, Jack Gunnle is the name. I've been moving from town to town trying to find a good place to set up my business. I think this town is calm and quiet enough."
"Yea, this is a peaceful town, good small place to get a business started. Not much competition. And don't worry, there aren't any muggers here. I make sure of that." Drac replied, with a reassuring smile. "So, what is it that you sell?"
"Oh just some remedies for small sickness. Not really any real medicine, just a few plants and herbs that relax and soothe the body. I had heard that a little flu outbreak had happened in the next town from a local, not too big of a deal, but a little bit of a fever and few reports of stomach aches. I thought it might be a good way to start off."
"Ahh. Well, let's be off then" Drac said flatly. He wasn't exactly going full heartedly. His mind lie on what Crewe had said.
They had set off as early as they could. Jack tied everything down to the wagon and made sure nothing was lose, then they set out before all the shops out on the streets were even open. Even though there were many creatures out in the woods, most had learned that the townspeople were harmless until provoked. And those who were hostile, learned right quick that this town wasn't one to be messed with. The townsfolk were always on edge with the whole war finally coming to an end.
"So, business is pretty rough huh?" Drac eyed Jack curiously.
Jack yanked at the horses reins a little, keeping the animal from veering off the trail. "Yea, it's not so easy. The folks back home pushed me out before I was ready. What with my little sister still in the house, and them having a baby, they couldn't support a family of five. We're simple folk. Don't have much. Our family line has had it rough like this for quite some time, and this war sure isn't helping business. Everyones on edge, afraid that my remedies are some kind of poison. 'Course I couldn't kill someone even if it were to save my own life. It's a crazy world out there."
"Aye, that it is. Don't worry though. The people at RedWood are a little on edge, but everyone knows everyone. All the guards are good friends, no one has reason to be suspicious of one another in town."
"Good to that friend. I arrived at this town and was shocked with all the people out and about on the streets chatting like all is we-" Drac abruptly pushed his head down.
"Shh. I hear something. Be very quiet, and get back into the wagon. There may be trouble." Jack started back towards the wagon when he was suddenly thrown back. A group of men emerged, the lot of them looked like thugs. The biggest one, Drac figured was the leader, stepped down off of a horse, likely a stolen one. His thick cloth shirt was ripped at the sleeves, although it didn't look like the man did it intentionally. There was blood rimming the arm holes of the shirt, as if the shirt had once belonged to a man who had his arms cut off, and then the man stole it. No, the man probably was the one who did the cutting.
He heard a half-witted groan from Jack. Good, he survived the blow.
"We've been looking for you for a very long time Merrit." Said the leader of the thugs. "Now, I think it's about high time you give us what we want, before we are forced to hurt your poor sod of a body guard.
Chapter 6-Click to reveal content
Chapter 6
Raw Instinct
The first thug charged at Drac. He ducked and thumped the man in the stomach, not wanting to kill the man. Drac was down to the bone terrified. He had never been in a fight, simply because he never wanted to hurt anyone. And he certainly didn't want to start here. So he hurt them as little as he could.
The group of men had surrounded him, all of them readying their weapons. The first one came, a smaller one, and swung with all his might. Drac wasn't ready, and he knew it. He took the blunt of the punch, and went to hit the kid, half way through the punch, he suddenly ducked. He hadn't even known why. His senses were just screaming at him to move, and so he did, it was almost as though he wasn't the one who had even ducked. As if something deep within him had told him to duck. Something that every creature had in it, but never used. A sword whistled over his head.
He stood back up, using the momentum of standing up to lunge at the original attacker, and clocked him across the jaw, knocking him out. An attacker came up from behind, and put his club up to Drac's throat, trying to choke him out, while two other men hit him in the chest with whatever they could get a hold of, Drac couldn't tell. His vision began to turn black. He didn't want to do this, but he couldn't let Jack... Merrit... whatever his name was, get hurt. He kicked the man behind him in the knee, breaking the knee and shattering every bone attached to the knee. The man cried out as he fell to the ground, huddled in a ball holding his wounded knee. The man would never walk quite the same again. He kicked one of the men whom was beating on him while he was held captive, in the chest, just below the ribs, knocking the wind out of the man. Drac was unable to react fast enough as the other swung at Drac's unguarded stomach, and another clocked him in the side of the face.
And then the feeling again. It made his blood run cold, and a shiver run up his spine. Something deep within him made him move, something with senses as sharp as a skinning knife. His heart felt cold like death itself was grasping it. He recognized it this time. It was raw instinct. As he regained his balance, he turned to look behind him as he dodged to the left. A sword cut his arm. The very sword that, had he not moved, would have gone rite through his heart.
Drac turned into a beast. This time, the feeling did not go away. He looked at the man standing before him, and jabbed him in the stomach so hard, when he removed his fist he could feel the blood runinng down his arm. The man stood, wide eyed, as he fell to the ground. Drac had downed another two men before the first even hit the ground. His fists covered in blood, all he felt was anger. Anger and raw instinct. Another man ran towards him, raising his sword, and preparing for a powerful blow, leaving his chest wide open. Drac didn't see an advantage to disable the man and leave him nearly unharmed like he would have moments before, instead, he saw a killing blow. He ran toward the man as fast as he could, he went to punch the man in the chest, but instead opened his hand.
Drac's hand tore straight through the man's chest. He could hear the bone crushing and the muscle tearing, as his hand came out the backside of the bandit, with his heart in Drac's hand. He pulled his hand out, dropped the heart, and went for his next victim. There were only seven bandits left. Seven bandits to kill till his hearts desire.
At that moment he snapped. His blood ran cold. The blood was all over him. From head to toe. There was a small pause in the fight, no one dared to move. As if the game of freeze tag was over, they all sprang into action once more. Drac was beaten to the ground, too shocked to do anything. He had done this. He pushed down this horrible feeling, and tried to regain his ground. He still had to save Jack. But he couldn't. He couldn't make himself get up.
It was like that day in the woods. The shop keep was beating him senseless and he could do nothing. Only this time another man's life was at stake. He had to do something. He had to get up. 'Stand up! Fight back! Come one! Stand UP body!' He thought to himself. 'Save that man! He's in danger! STAND UP!"
He heard a scream. It must have been Jack, Drac thought to himself. But it couldn't have been. Jack didn't sound like that. There was a clashing of swords, and the shouting of commands. The guards! They saved him that day in the woods with the shop keep, and they have done it again. As people ran away from Drac, to go to the fight with the guards, he was able to regain his ground. He stood up and looked at the battle.
The guards were pulverizing them. Some of the thugs ran, but were taken down immediately. The fighting started to come to an end. As the group of men were rounded up and tied up in rope, a soldier came running up to Drac. The man looked very peculiar to Drac. Almost familiar. "Good god! is that you? The man who saved me in the woods?"
The soldier met up with him, the same one who saved him from the shop keep. "In the flesh and blood! The leader of this group of bandits over here came through town and was asking a few local people if they had seen a traveler pass through. One of our guards thought it was a little suspicious that a big gruff man like himself would be roughing up the townsfolk asking where a small business man had gone, so he reported it to us. Didn't take long before we found out that this guy's real name is Merrit Glendlewood. A kid who's parents died when he was 8. Didn't have any other family except for his grandparents. Whenever he was around 19 years old, they died too. Before they did they gave him a precious family gem. These thugs caught wind of it, and came after him. But regardless of the thugs reasons, we'll escort him the rest of the way. Our escort party should scare away any other thugs that might be thinking of snatching up that gem. "
"My deepest condolences for any injuries. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or at least that's what I thought at first. I saw you fighting on our way over to help. You've some pretty sharp senses in you. I mean to hear the blade whistling form behind you, that was something else! Look, I really think you should join the army. And that brute strength! I mean good god that was morbid. You've got potential."
"I can't." Drac replied flatly. "Crewe won't let me. The villagers need me. I mean even this poor guy here. He would be dead had it not been for me. Sure he's pretty roughed up, but those bandits would have gone straight to him and had him dead before you got here. They need me."
"Ahh... Crew won't let you huh? That's a real shame. We need someone like you. I mean wow. You're a monster amongst men. A true beast. Dang impressi-." The man was cut off in mid sentence. Drac was off in a dead sprint out of sight behind all the forest shrubbery before the man could finish his sentence. As he turned to follow drac, he noticed a tear in mid-drop. Best to leave him alone.
Tears streamed down his face as branches whiped all across his body. He sprinted as fast as he could for home. At the edge of the forest, he stopped at the treeline and lost his lunch. What was that? He couldn't stop shaking. It wasn't something that any normal person had. Everyone has instinct but this was... something more. It was like he felt the blade pierce his heart before the man even raised it. The very fiber that makes up his soul told him to move. It was mind shattering, mortifying. He has always had this incredible power, but it was never that extreme. Never before could he rip through the flesh of a man. 'When I think back on it now all I can think of is his life. My hand tearing through who he was. He emotions, his memories, his scars. How could I do that? I did it for bloodshed then but... Now all I remember about it is holding what was his essence in my hand. His blood, the blood that probably belonged to some soul-mate in distress somewhere, splattered across my face.' His stomache empty, he heaved air. When he had sprung up and uppercut that man in the jaw, it was with all he had, he was too afraid for it not to be. And it did little more than maybe break his jaw. It was wrong. How could he do that to someone? 'I'm just a freak. A monster. All I did when I was younger was hurt, and I thought it had passed, but I was wrong...' Back there was... For that instant, he felt like he was completely feral. A beast, owned by no man.
Chapter 7-Click to reveal content
Chapter 7
Punishment
It had only been 2 minutes sence he left the scene of bloodshed, but to him it seemed like an eternity. He closed in on his house. On Crewe's house. 'Oh god Crewe. What will Crewe think.... I'm a monster... No. He'll forgive me. He always has.' He neared the door. 'Five steps Drac.... Just take five more steps to return to... to what? To Crewe making me breakfeast and then eating most of it? No. Four steps, no I can never return to that. He may forgive me but the relationship between us will never be the same. Three more steps, maybe I can just run. Just turn around, walk away, and never come back. Two steps, no I'm wrong. Things may not be rite at first but he'll always be there for me, and he'll always understand. One more step. Maybe this foolish imbodiment of someone who craves to have had a childhood, can finally find happiness in a world of hate. Maybe I can.' His hand reached out for the doorknob. The symbolic image of the hand reaching for the knob, was a perfect display of a lone soul, asking for forgiviness and taking a leap of faith, by grabbing hold of that doorknob, and seeing what await him and his destiny beyond that door. Wether it would save him, or break his heart and soul leaving him an empty husk of someone who maybe someday could have ben something great. Or if he just ran away. He never touched that door ever again, and he ran. His hand centimeters away from his fate, he prepared to open it. The anticipation numbed his brain, every part of his body felt numb.
'Is this... Grass... Why am I laying down in grass... Where am I... Who cares... It's so comfortable down here... I think I could sleep forever.'
"Drac!" a voice echoed in his empty world. "Drac are you ok?!" He was turned over onto his back. He could vaguely feel his head rocking. "It's going to be ok Drac. Everything is going to be ok. Just hang in there. Listen to my voice! We're going to get you some help."
Someone was standing over him. Crewe.... It was Crewe. 'What's wrong Crewe? Why are you so frightened? Everything's fine. Everything is going to be ok I thought? That's what you said rite Crewe? Crewe?' He could vaguely remember seeing something running off into the distance. "Somebody help! Please help me carry him in I can't do it alone!"
'It's ok Crewe. Everything is fine. I'm just.... going to go to sleep for a while.... I'm so sleepy...' Drac's thought's wandered into senseless babling. And the world around him begand to slip away.
'Light. I... I can see light. Where am I... Who am I...? What is... the point of my existance...?' It all came rushing back to him, who he was, his life. He tried to jump up, he had to get to Crewe. He had to explain everything. He tried to push his arms down to propel himself up. But he couldn't... His arms wouldn't even budge. His body wouldn't move. 'Respond! Why won't you move! I have to get to Crewe! Please!' His thoughts made him panic. 'I can't move. Oh god, am I going to be like this forever?! Move! Move! Stand up!' His heart felt like it was going to tear through his rib cage. 'This can't happen to me. Not me. The villagers need me. Crewe needs me! Everyone needs me! I can't give up now!'
A thick, familiar voice spoke up. The soldier. "Calm down son. Your heart will give if you keep this up. You just recovered from something huge. You collapsed outside Crewe's door. Your muscles were tearing themselves apart, and your heart began to damage itself as well, it was barely able to pump enough blood to the muscles to keep them operational. They were using so much energy, that if your heart didn't compensate, it's likely permenate damage would have been done to your muscles. They managed to sedate your body and force your body to be still before your muscles tore themselves clean in half. Crewe got help to carry you inside, and then used some rather... unorthodox methods to heal most of the damage. No idea what that man did, but he's the best healer this town's got. You were in good hands. You're going to be alright son. Now take it easy. Your muscles are still restoring, so try to sit up slowly, your body can't react very fast rite now."
Drac slowly sat up. Almost sitting straight up, he winced in pain nearly falling back down, the soldier reached for Drac, helping him back up. They both just sat there for a long moment. The soldier finally broke the ice. "Whenever you recover enough to stand up, Crewe will be waiting for you in the kichen. He'd like to have some words with you. I told him the whole story. I told him 5 minutes after stabalizing you." The soldier stood up, and walked to the door, halfway out, he turned his head back. "That was 3 weeks ago. I sat with you the whole way to break the news." He turned his head back, and walked out. 'That was 3 weeks ago.' The words resonated throughout him. Thoughts immediately rushed through Drac's mind.
'What does Crewe want to talk about... What does he have to say... The day I almost opened that door, took everything I had. Now I have to summon it all back up, to walk into the kitchen, and talk with Crewe. I can't do it. It's too much. It's just too much!'
He was yanked out of his thoughts, the door finally latched shut. And the silence that filled the room, forever multiplied the emtpiness that was inside of Drac's heart. Then a second question occured to him. 'What caused this... Why am I in this condition..? Have the gods punished me for what I did to those men? That must be it... The very divines looked down on me in disgust that day.'
After a very long time, Drac finally stood erect, and took the first step towards the door, his fate. 'Punishment mocks me today. Forcing me to decide upon opening this door of fate, for a second time.' The second step. 'But none of that matters now. I deserve it. Those men had lives. I'm ready to face your judgment. I'm ready to go down the path that could be one of destruction or salvation. I'm ready for your punishment.'
Drac entered the kitchen. His eyes rose up to meet Crewe's. What he saw hit him like the cold reality that he had been repeating in his mind for the past 2 minutes. Crewe's usual carefree and happy demeanor, was stonecold, and merciless. "I'm.... I'm sorry." That's the only words he could force past his lips as he stood in the doorway, looking at Crewe. "Don't give me that. I'm not who you should be saying that too. The men out in that forest. That's who you should be apologizing to Drac. Not me. Besides." Crewe's glare hardened, and grew evermore cold, despite as impossible as it was for his eyes to bore into Drac anymore then they already were. "I'm not here to discuss morals and the essence of another's life. I'm here to ask what happened. How did you do that too yourself? And why Drac? Why would you want to self distruct?" Crewe's voice wavered slightly.
"I.... I didn't do it to myself. And I don't know what happened." Drac replied factually. Because he didn't know what happened. That was the disturbing truth of it. He diverted his eyes to the tabletop. 'Keep yourself together Drac... You can do this...'
Crewe lowered his gaze for a moment to regain his composure, then returned his hardened stare to Drac. "You'll report to Captain Dreth Gallion at the reqruitment center. There you will recover in their bunkers, and begin your training as soon as your ready. You leave at 5 AM. I want you out of this house before I wake up. The army will teach you the consequences of taking another person's life. Now get out of my sight."
Drac raised his gaze from the table. "Understood." Slowly, he stood up, turned around, and walked to the door. A tear rolled town Drac's face, as he stood at the doorway turned away. It couldn't have gone worse. 'So Crewe really does hate me now... I was a fool to believe he would accept me.' He reached his room, and lay down on his bed. He wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight. There's no way anyone could. As the night ticked by, hour by hour, minute by minute, second by second, he lay awake. Painfully aware of his existance in this cruel world. At 5, as the sun had just peaked the hills, he gathered his belongings, and prepared to leave. The only sign of his presence was the wet pillow that was left on the sheet rumpled laying on the bed.
[spoiler=Chapter 8-Click to reveal content]
[size=18pt] Chapter 8
[/size][size=14pt] Day One
[/size]
The man proceeded down the stone pathway, and hung a left at his friends house. He had arrived. But he had the itching suspicion that someone was following him... Facing the doorway, he turned to his left. The path continued, but curved off into the forestry. 'Well I suppose someone could be in the forest watching me.' he kept staring at the scenery, the moon sitting high above the hills of trees, the lamps leading down the stone path, 'But I was walking this way. No one in their rite mind would spy on someone infront of them.' A wolf howled, as he twisted to his left again, looking away from the house as he craned his neck to scan the tree line past the fields. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. As he turned to his left, he saw a shadow bound backwards into an ally between his friends house, and a clothing shop. He was shocked, and immediately began to advance, when a cat hissed and screamed at another.
'Just a cat. How foolish of me. On the other hand, that back ally would be a good place...' He bit his lip.
He turned once more, and walked up to his dear friends house. As he knocked on the door, the wind howled, and the hiss of a knife on sheathe was muffled by the leaves rustling on the ground. The dark figure was finally revealed in a long coat, as Ms. Marilyn opened the door. "By the divines is it good to see you again! Come in come in! No sense in standing out in that flesh chilling wind now is there?" As he entered the house a rush of warmth slammed into him. This was the first time he had been in her house. He took note of everything. The house was like a room of quartz. Everything was white. The chairs were painted white, the curtains were thin white sheets overlapping each other to form a thicker curtain, a design stitched over the final layer.
It all fit together like a beautiful puzzle piece to him. This was the place, the perfect place. Nothing could be more perfect It drove him mad, the pleasure of being able to carry out his pride in this place of purity. as he bit his lip in satisfaction, he noted something else. 'The candles! Why are they everywhere, why do they have to be here? Why would she do this!' The fury was mind splintering. It lit the place up to perfect the image of the canvas, but there was so much cloth lining the walls. It was a fire hazzard waiting to destroy his beautiful work area.
Finally he noted there was a table in the middle, with a vase of white roses. Other than that, the house was small. The only other thing in it was probably down the hall, the bed in the bedroom. Likely white.
'It will be fine. My beloved has nearly ruined my plans, but so long as I'm careful.... Nothing could possibly go wrong! This moment is perfect.' Blood dripped down his chin.
"Are you going to just stare the whole day, or do you want to sit down at the table and have a cup of tea while we catch up?" Rage erupted within him. 'And now she dares to interrupt my thoughts. How could she, such a beautiful face. Her very fragrence is mind numbing. What a foolish child.' "Yes I'll have a seat, thank you Marilyn."
"Oh my goodness! Your lip! Are you alright?" The astonishment on her face was evident. 'Foolish woman. It's just blood my love.'
"Yes I had a little accident on the way here. A cat scared me and I walked right into a street pole."
"Well that's better than a muggin I suppose. So, how have you been lately?" Marilyn quirked her head to the side, the smile reaching half way across her face. "I've been lovely Marilyn. All is the norm for me. And you?"
"I've been doing really well! My flower shop has been selling a lot better lately. I guess beginning to sell my beloved white roses has caught the towns eye huh?" A moment of awkward silence passed for Marilyn, but the stranger sat, envoloping himself around every moment, He couldn't wait he wanted to just release it all! Release it all and show his art. "Well anywho, you haven't come to see me in days! After that last date, I had started to think you didn't care about me anymore." her voice quivered slightly. "Of course not Marilyn! I could never lose my feelings for you. I've been stopped up the past couple of days." A drop of blood hit the table, and it became all the harder to supress his anger. 'How could she? My love thinks I have lost passion for her? Foolish and arrogant! Foolish and arrogant! How could she?'
"I was so worried! Didn't you hear?"
"Hear of what Marilyn?
"Elizabeth Nighting was killed at her home the other night! Poor woman wouldn't harm a soul. She certainly didn't deserve her treatment. I remember the first time we met. We were at the market place, I was grabbing some food. I hadn't eaten well in days... After my father died I just didn't care anymore." His heart mourned for her. 'I'm so sorry you had to go through that love! But all of the sadness will drain away soon.'
"I picked up a rotten apple, not even aware of it. I had just about given that man my money when she stopped and showed me a wonderful selection of fruits and vegetables. That woman saved my life. She took me back to her house, and I told her the whole story. I just hope she's in a better place now.
'There is no better place you fool! I hate your pure stupidity. But it's always been good that your beauty masks over it.'
"Well... Anyway, come to my bedroom. I have a present to give you." The chairs skittered back as they stood up, and headed towards her room.
'What is it? What is the last thing you want to give to me my love? The last thing before we part ways?' Pleasure overwhelmed him as he followed her into her white bedroom. Just as he had wanted. The taste of blood filled his mouth.
"So what is it you have to show me?" She turned around, and leaned up against him, drawing her delicate fingers across his stubbled face, as the strap of her dress slipped over her shoulder. She looked up and smiled simply. "Oops."
Everything was right, everything played right into his hands, as he reached forward and grabbed her, pulling her in passionately. She groaned, as a drop of blood hit the floor. A second fell on her face, as he stood, panting heavely. He remembered every moment of it, as Ms. Marilyn lay on the floor disembowled, and he bit his lip in pleasure.
[hr][/hr]
His mind blank, he began to feel. 'Why am I shaking?' He woke up in the barracks to a metal bucket being banged on by a wooden stick. He sat up, and started getting on his regular clothes. 'Here comes day one.' Drac thought seldomly to himself. 'Now that I'm healed, maybe I can start living up to Crewe's... No, to Master Forthwind's expectations. I dont deserve to call him in such an informal manor after what happened...'
They had said it would only take 2 weeks to heal after what happened to him, it took Drac a full month to heal. The doctors couldn't figure out what was going on with his body. As they stood around him, they poked and probed his sore muscles in fascination, finally concluding that they didn't know what was happening. But they thought it was as if his body had simply given up. it was medically terrifying to both the doctors, and Drac. They tried different remedies and medicines to see if there wasn't some sort of infection in his body keeping him from healing himself. But they came up with no results.
In any case, he was better now. He had to put Master Forthwind behind him for now. Nothing would benefit from thinking of that. Drac could move on now. He could do what he always wanted to, he could go down the path that was meant for him, and become a warrior.
He was nervous. Although he had been in the Barracks for some time, he was still considered a fresh recruit, and would be treated as such with all the other fresh bloods. All the people he met essentialy when he had first arrived were long gone into the more advanced trainings of the program.
He finally finished tying his boots, it seemed to take forever as he thought to himself about all that had happened. He stood up, and finally became aware of his surroundings. Home sweet home, he thought ironically to himself. It was, in the very least, not a good home. The walls were made of bricks, painted brown. The beds were all 5 inches thick at most, with thin blankets, all neatly folded over the beds as they were told to do, tucked under the flat pillows. Everything about this place shouted prison.
And now it was time to go and eat old soup for 5 minutes in the Mess Hall. As he made his way out of the room, and into the hallways that looked much the same as the bland barracks, he hung a left in the middle of the hallway, into the Mess Hall.
Drac gasped slightly, stunned at the Mess Hall. He had never been, they insisted that he stay in the barracks, any more moving around than just small exercises in there could lead to injury. The place was certainly more homely than the Barracks. All around him, was a wooden log room, with basic circular wood tables and wood chairs. Off into the left corner of the room, the soup was being served. On the wall straight infront of him in the middle of the room, was a fireplace to heat the Mess Hall. And to his right was a view of the forest.
This was the place that most felt like his home back in RedWood.
The lunch lady noticed him, looked up and smiled as she waved him to come get a bowl. As he went over, he thought about how in 5 minutes after he finished this bowl, he'd have to go out and face Captain Dreth Galleon. He looked up at the lunch lady, thanked her, and went to go sit down. He was so hungry, the rations in the Millennium Army seemed like nothing compared to back home. He began slurping, choked a little bit, and kept rite on drinking. He put the bowl down, to see a tear in the middle of his bowl. Him and Master Forthwind used to eat so much together. They'd go to town, to the merchant that already knew Master, having already known Drac's Master, he'd just hand over half of his stalk right away. They'd need it. Drac and his Master spent hours looking over that boiling tub of soup, just waiting for it to finish, nearly slobbering in it while making it.
That tub never made it two days. Of course they starved themselves for the half day it took just to make it.
He forced himself to stop thinking before someone noticed. He didn't want to start his first day off making a bad impression of himself on the other trainees.
This was his place to get away from that, and when he comes back to the issue after all of this, to make it right.
He got up and walked outside to stand front and center to face Commander Dreth Galleon. This would be his first time seeing the man. As he exited the door into the dry barren heat, he saw a peculiar sight. The commander stood in the middle of a crater, with no training equipment, no dummies, just him and before him the recruits. In a small town, they were lucky to get over 50 recruits. There were 32 men, and 12 women, standing before him. He took his place between a man and woman, and looked dead ahead to face Captain Dreth Galleon.
The very posture of this man, meant bussiness. His broad mountainous shoulders stood out on either side of this average heighted man, Drac was a very large person, and Dreth was almost just as large, with much more experience. He wore the typical recruit gear, only on his shoulder he bore a star, with two smaller ones on either side. A scar carrying from the top of his left brow, carried down to the bottom of his lip, leaving his eye a blank white. He wasn't here to make friends. Drac watched, as his cold, uncaring eyes scanned every last one of them up and down. Scanned them down like animals, the white eye looked everywhere and no where. Drac's heart raced. The man walked up to one of the recruits, and they jumped back. Dreth didn't shout, he didn't do anything to make him seem angry. No, he did something much worse. He stepped forward, grabbed hold of the man's shirt, pulled him forward, and stated in a raspy dry voice, filled with hate. "You don't have what it takes to be a soldier." The recruit stood there, looked at the Captains face, and whimpered. "Get out and go home."
The man did this a number of times, going down the line, making each and every brutal mental attack, more frightening than the last. Some stayed, some broke down, unable to take the unwavering, scrutinizing glare of the captain.
Captain Dreth approached Drac. He said nothing, he simply stared into Drac. And when Drac looked, he saw this man's soul. As his eyes bore deeper and deeper, Drac saw sadness, betrayel, hatred. All of this man's mental scars beat down on Drac, breaking him down. Tearing his soul apart, making him so afraid to join the Millennium Recruit, might the terrible events, whatever nightmares happened to this man, might happen to him. But yet he continued, and stared. A bead of sweat rolled down his nose, his legs fought to support his body, yet he fought against the tide of hatred, of sorrow. He almost gave in, he almost collapsed against the wave of having his mind torn to shreds. But at that moment, he knew that if Master Forthwind meant anything to him, he would stand, and look his nightmare in the face. All time was lost, it was as if this man was sucking the life out of him. He felt weak, his breaths grew thinner and thinner.
The nightmare tore away from him, leaving only scars in his memory, where terror and suffering tore into his soul. He couldn't stop thinking about it. The feeling of absolute terror.
"Now, for those of you that are still here, get down on the ground and assume pushup position. I want you to push yourself until you simply can't go anymore. Here today, you will pus
| Credit | First Chapter, the dragon language at the end, was from Skyrim. |
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My confusion came, like I said from, from lack of knowledge about creatures and tools etc. but even with that barrier the story moves fluidly and can followed by Mcrafters and non-Mcrafters alike. you do indeed have a talent and i must say a much larger vocabulary than i expect from the average teenager.
Though some of the words were used out of context its still impressive that they were present. i would recommend that you look into order of tenses in sentences Past, Present, Future. Anyhow I dont want to talk your ear off. Good job and look forward to reading more. Just remember dont sell yourself short. You are leaps and bounds ahead of most of your generation and thats a talent and maturity that i hope you will continue to nurture in the coming years.
See you in Azeroth
Yours Truly,
Mithias (Dru)