Re: The Savage Brawl
02-19-2010, 08:40 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.
Ziirphael climbed to his feet and surveyed the area. He was in a wide open cavern. It looked ancient. Huge stalactites hung from the ceiling, with the occasional stalagmite rising up to meet it. The air was cold against his skin, and his body shivered involuntarily. Glancing behind him he saw a lake of black water that stretched off into the distance. Ziir reached down and took a stone from the rocky floor. He threw it, skimming it along the surface of the dark water. He might have smiled wistfully if he had a mouth. Well maybe not smiled, maybe the corner of his mouth might have faintly rised just a little. He couldn't see any signs of his competitors in the immediate vicinity. He had grasped the idea of this competition pretty quickly. He had been a gladiator in the Roman colliseum. Those had been simpler days of course. The rush of adrenaline, and the giddy thrill as his opponent's blood engulfed his hands. He even got a cheer. It was one of the rare times anyone ever cheered him while in the act of murder. Ziir absentmindedly wondered if anyone would cheer when the first of these contestants died. He picked his way across the rocks to a body. He instinctively knew it was a body, though there was no obvious signs. It could simply have been a man having a rest, sitting on the rocks, but Ziir always knew. It was part of who he was. He approached the corpse. The man was pretty non-descript. He was holding onto an oar, very tightly. Ziir prised his fingers off the oar and laid his hands across his chest. He lay the man down to sleep, closing his bloodshot eyes. He would have buried the man, but for the rock on which he trod. This would have to do.
Ziir sat down next to the man and gazed thoughtfully into the distance. This was the place he had sent so many men. He hadn't expected it to be so literal. He felt no regret. In fact a part of him rued that he could no longer feel the same thrill from another man's death. Things had been so easy when he had been mindless; death incarnate. But still, that was him no longer. He wondered where the man's soul was now. Extinguished, gone forever, just an infinite sea of blackness? Or an Underworld under this one. He sat there and pondered for a little while, twisting the oar between his fingers. He wondered what he might do when he found one of his competitors...
Ziirphael climbed to his feet and surveyed the area. He was in a wide open cavern. It looked ancient. Huge stalactites hung from the ceiling, with the occasional stalagmite rising up to meet it. The air was cold against his skin, and his body shivered involuntarily. Glancing behind him he saw a lake of black water that stretched off into the distance. Ziir reached down and took a stone from the rocky floor. He threw it, skimming it along the surface of the dark water. He might have smiled wistfully if he had a mouth. Well maybe not smiled, maybe the corner of his mouth might have faintly rised just a little. He couldn't see any signs of his competitors in the immediate vicinity. He had grasped the idea of this competition pretty quickly. He had been a gladiator in the Roman colliseum. Those had been simpler days of course. The rush of adrenaline, and the giddy thrill as his opponent's blood engulfed his hands. He even got a cheer. It was one of the rare times anyone ever cheered him while in the act of murder. Ziir absentmindedly wondered if anyone would cheer when the first of these contestants died. He picked his way across the rocks to a body. He instinctively knew it was a body, though there was no obvious signs. It could simply have been a man having a rest, sitting on the rocks, but Ziir always knew. It was part of who he was. He approached the corpse. The man was pretty non-descript. He was holding onto an oar, very tightly. Ziir prised his fingers off the oar and laid his hands across his chest. He lay the man down to sleep, closing his bloodshot eyes. He would have buried the man, but for the rock on which he trod. This would have to do.
Ziir sat down next to the man and gazed thoughtfully into the distance. This was the place he had sent so many men. He hadn't expected it to be so literal. He felt no regret. In fact a part of him rued that he could no longer feel the same thrill from another man's death. Things had been so easy when he had been mindless; death incarnate. But still, that was him no longer. He wondered where the man's soul was now. Extinguished, gone forever, just an infinite sea of blackness? Or an Underworld under this one. He sat there and pondered for a little while, twisting the oar between his fingers. He wondered what he might do when he found one of his competitors...
Heaven Help Us | Make Room!!!! | I'm Not Okay (I Promise)
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You
Hang 'Em High | The Only Hope For Me Is You | Zero Percent | Early Sunsets Over Monroeville | DESTROYA | Demolition Lovers | To The End
Surrender The Night | Disenchanted | The Ghost Of You | Party Poison | Vampires Will Never Hurt You | The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You