"On this dark, stormy night I travel lost and alone; in the shadows I roam. Through the labyrinth of mortal decay further down the spiral each day as hopes slowly slip away. These twisting, empty streets my home, drown in filth paved with blood. What kind of Beast have I become? To live in nothing, to feast on pain: Have I lost it, gone insane this mystery remains. This question remains the same. My Fate is lost, my path unknown, my history has been shown. The stars no longer project my future, my destiny has not been written. So I walk, my sword across my back, from town to town in search of answers, the end or the beginning."
He paused in thought as he lit a cigarette, a new problem at hand. With empty buildings and empty streets to the left, and to the right or up the dilapidated building to shelter he pondered. He drew a deep breath, drawing the sweet intoxicating smoke into his lungs. It filled him with a rush of satisfaction, calming his exhausted mind and dulling the pain. He cursed beneath his breath; the bitter winds then hurled his duffel bag with all the strength he could yet endure. It crashed heavily upon the rusty steal high above; with a deep sigh he prepared himself for the climb. "Home is where your head rests." He shivered.
Another day another night it's all the same. Nothing is ever changed; knowledge and wisdom come with age, then I must be ancient, the elder at the gate. I am trapped in this private hell or grim nightmare, which, I cannot wake. The agony of Life, the elusive mystery of Death, was there no end. Each is the other or are they the same, it's to late; the stress.
He taxed the last of his endurance to reach the rotting eve, wrapping his coat ever more secure around his trembling mass, half frozen and drenched. The bitter winds cutting through him to the bone, combined with driving rains in threats of drowning his soul. But then he found the vile. From his inner pocket he drew forth the delicate glass with beautiful silver overlay and golden dragons. The silver catching the light of the flashing skies to grant it a living aura, unexplained and undreamed unto mortals.
He gently removed the cork to take a small sip then replaced it in his pocket. In the span of a few breaths the bitter elements were forgotten, as the fierce chill melting to the growing infernos of this sweet drug. His mind began to ease then melted through the hidden cracks of reality. A new power, a force, surged through him filling him, consuming him in threatening desire: It beckoned. In that instant he became aware of everything, all was now his as reality churned and shifted, then shattering to crumble down around him. The jagged shards of memories and broken dreams fell together in his mind as everything became nothing and nothing became real.
Welcome to Paradox, reveal in Chaos, Anarchy the only rule
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From somewhere deep within a voice echoes across the wind, faint at first then drawn near, filled with the essence of fear. A desperate call, in desperate flight, redemption and revenge upon unseen lips echoed to his ears across the void of Night. A lost soul trapped in eternal night. Chased to the very ends of mortal life, Time at last to stand and fight. Rise upon the fiery wings of Rage; misery and fury feed the pain. Let it all out, it will explode. Give in to the Beast! Let it all go!
With newfound strength he vaulted from his lofty perch, to land heavily upon the flooded streets below. His senses in a whirl as new information rushed upon his now hyper mind. The sent of fear and suffering thick on the biting wind, and desperate calls unanswered, echoing across the darkness. His body ridged with anticipation as he searched hungrily for the source of this misery. He melted into the night, a shadow consumed in darkness; he traveled, unseen and unheard.
The chilling embrace of emptiness wrapped him in comforting void, echoing the forbidden pleasures, and granting him the will of rage. The broken world now complete, contained hidden messages of the night, clearly displayed to him in black and white. The gentle whispers of the wind now clear; everything was his and bathed in sin.
Images of combat, flashes of a broken past, glimpses of forgotten dreams, the icy kiss of Madness, rising from the void on molten wings. This hurricane of mixed emotion and churning memories, raising a storm of nightmares and chaos to devastate sheltered boundaries, in a violent upheaval of his wounded soul. The wicked terrors and demonic fantasies washed over and through him with devastating force to warp his mind in devilish desires. A cauldron of erotic images drenched in blood, woven on flesh, stitched with barbed wire. The sweet forbidding desires of flesh and blood.
A cold, physical darkness devoured him in a painful shroud of broken sanity everything he knew melting in nothingness. An unnatural shadow of decay, empty but not void, as he could feel it stir around him in its own primal dementia. He settled into this strange, unnerving darkness, its mystery numbing his senses. When from the fearful emptiness a gentle touch, warm and unknown in his long deprived emotion. He shuddered, tremors and icy tendrils curling slowly through his deadened senses bringing life back into this near frozen vessel. His mind reveled in the possibility of life, in dream neither awake nor asleep but balanced between the planes. But this fanciful realization shattered as his instincts surged forth.
He awoke with a jolt of alertness and leapt to his feet, like a startled beast, sword drawn as he pierced the darkness in desperation. His sharpened senses scanning the dense shadows to reveal, nothing. He relaxed, confused by this unexplained disruption and found he was half naked. His heavy coat and tattered wool sweater missing, allowing the freezing moisture to cling on unprotected flesh. The small room in which he was now confined was simple and empty with no doors or windows. The place resembled a tomb, locked deep in the bowels of the earth.
But as he searched deeper into the dark, misty gloom a small figure slowly became visible. There, cowering in the corner to his right, a small body, trembling with cold or fright but wrapped snugly in his clothes. He sheathed his heavy broadsword and cautiously crept across the smooth concrete for a closer inspection. He was confused and lost, hoping this new but strange companion could help answer this most disturbing mystery. He searched through his pockets finding his crumpled cigarettes and striking his only match, alerting her of his presence.
She jumped up instantly taking a defensive pose, ready for combat. Her fierce gaze locked on him but through the darkness, she was blind. Like a desperate animal she backed cautiously against the wall waiting for another sign from her visitor.
"Who are you and what are you doing with my clothes?" Raven barked sarcastically.
"I could ask you the same, what are you some kind of perv'?" her voice frightened. "How about you sharing that smoke, and we can talk about what you are." She shifted trying to relax a little, then added, "Where are we"
He scoffed, forced a laugh then with one final puff, and passed the cigarette over to her, "Congratulations. It takes talent to steal a man's clothes while he's asleep. Had a lot of practice?" He smirked.
But before she could answer the whole room shook violently as some frightful nightmare beyond the wall roared slamming its body into the bricks. The sudden forceful impact caused him to jump and reach instinctively for his sword with blurring quickness. To his horror he found it was gone. He looked at her confused to see her smiling happily. "A friend of yours?" she laughed, as the wall gave way in its second assault.
Raven turned back in time to see the wall give way. The morter and brick crumbled away. He gazed in surprised fascination, beyond the wall, a portal deep and onto its own dimension, and the reflection of a monster shrouded in the darkness. The woman's laughter was growing hysterical, reverberating in his ears. When from the darkness came a pair of glowing green eyes, it let out a deep growl announcing its rage. Awaking him with start, a frigid torrent washed over him.
Now soaked to the core and exposed to the elements he had no energy to think of this dreadful nightmare. He worried now of freezing before a safe shelter could be found. So cursing his luck he gathered his duffel bag and with a deep sigh leapt from his lofty perch to splash heavily upon the flooded streets. With a sigh and a string of curses he stumbled into the night, cold and alone. The driving winds and freezing rains punished him, Pestilence weighed down upon his soul.
His breath came in raged gasps as he fought back the cold that was desperate to freeze the blood in his veins. His muscles locked in agonizing cramps and joints denied him, while the merciless elements grew fiercer. It seemed the world was desperate for his demise. This combined misery of his entire existence, and the hopelessness of despair wrapped bitterly around his mind in a vise-like grip. He silently wish for some release, be it by life or by death he prayed.
He knew the impossibility of surviving this harsh assault; the elements were too fierce for even his immoral endurance. He summoned the last of his strength, stumbling up the rain slick steps of a condemned building and with one fluid motion drew his great broadsword. He smashed through the guarding bars like rotten planks, as muscles constricted beneath the strain, locking his brittle joints and sending him headlong, unconscious to the dusty but dry tile floor. "And I'm, in."
* * *
The muttering voices of a long forgotten past drifted to his ears, their painful scorns and cries of misery sending him down a dark spiral of dreadful nightmares. Memories of a life long ago, or a life yet to come danced through his mind like razors, each eerie voice hauntingly familiar. Each agonizing image cut deeper into his emotions. The venomous taste of madness lingered upon his parched palate, a searing dream or frightful reality. He was utterly lost in the dark depths of his own misery, consumed and drowning in the sins of forever.