Mr.Yellow?
02-27-2013, 03:33 PM
Yet to be named.
The cold emptiness of this place haunts him. No wind, no sunlight, no smells or sounds. A barren wasteland. Misery hangs in the air, leeching all warmth, and contaminating the air with its foulness. An icy shiver runs down his spine, as he stands, transfixed by the very earth beneath his feet. A sharp pain causes his head to jolt towards his feet, and as he stares, thin, jet black tendrils begin to weave around his feet, snaking between his toes. Reaching forwards carefully with one foot, faintly able to make out the lip of the rock, he reaches the edge of the pillar, scattering several small rocks into the blackness beyond. Nowhere to go. Looking around, there is only darkness to be seen. The lack of noise all around him confirms what he already knew, what he had grown to fear. This wasn’t the first time he’d been here, the visions had appeared more frequently, and more vividly now, than they had when they first presented themselves, over a month ago. Each night, he awakens, chained to what appears to be a sacrificial altar, upon a single spire of stone, as if surveying the void below. The only source of light that his eyes can discern is a faint blue glow within his veins, throbbing in and out of existence every few seconds. Unable to move due to the shackles, he has no choice but to wait, and weep. As time passes his apprehension grows, feeling every beat of his heart in his chest, pumping the blood contained within around his body. A low pitched growl permeates the silence behind him. Sweat trickles from his brow, and down his neck, as he strains to hear the beast circling. A small sob escapes his throat, and as if mocking him, the growls deepen and increase in volume. Other noises join with the deep-throated snarls, and a cacophony of shrieks, roars, and howls unfolds from all sides. Amid the increasing noise, he turns back once more to gaze at his feet. The tendrils, still writhing around his feet, appear to take on a more solid state, and he flinches, knowing what’s coming. They climb; starting at the base of his toes, and seemingly liquid like, flow slowly over his feet, climbing his ankles. The familiar sensation of cold numbness begins to envelop him. Frantically trying to free himself, knowing it was no use, tears begin to fall from his eyes, sinking into the darkness like everything else. All feeling below his knees is gone, his attempts to move his legs both futile and fruitless. The pillar beneath him begins to shake, dragging his bare skin against the altar, and causing his wrists to chafe against the shackles, cutting deep into the soft flesh. Warm blood flows from his wrists, dripping down into the blackness engulfing him. As if feeding the liquid, the film of oily darkness began to accelerate up his body, now just below his stomach. Numb from the waist down, there was nothing left to do, but give himself to the dark. In a final burst, he yelled to the world, a cry of rage and pain, hurting for something he knew nothing of, just a gut feeling that somehow, he had failed, that this was his fault. The dark, permeating his skin, sliding down his throat, into his nostrils, corrupting his very soul was the last thing he could feel, before a world of numbness. His eyes, covered by the veil of evil, wept until they were covered. His life.. was no more.
And still… the darkness rose.
Let me know what you think, it has been a while since I've written, and any feedback would be much appreciated.
The cold emptiness of this place haunts him. No wind, no sunlight, no smells or sounds. A barren wasteland. Misery hangs in the air, leeching all warmth, and contaminating the air with its foulness. An icy shiver runs down his spine, as he stands, transfixed by the very earth beneath his feet. A sharp pain causes his head to jolt towards his feet, and as he stares, thin, jet black tendrils begin to weave around his feet, snaking between his toes. Reaching forwards carefully with one foot, faintly able to make out the lip of the rock, he reaches the edge of the pillar, scattering several small rocks into the blackness beyond. Nowhere to go. Looking around, there is only darkness to be seen. The lack of noise all around him confirms what he already knew, what he had grown to fear. This wasn’t the first time he’d been here, the visions had appeared more frequently, and more vividly now, than they had when they first presented themselves, over a month ago. Each night, he awakens, chained to what appears to be a sacrificial altar, upon a single spire of stone, as if surveying the void below. The only source of light that his eyes can discern is a faint blue glow within his veins, throbbing in and out of existence every few seconds. Unable to move due to the shackles, he has no choice but to wait, and weep. As time passes his apprehension grows, feeling every beat of his heart in his chest, pumping the blood contained within around his body. A low pitched growl permeates the silence behind him. Sweat trickles from his brow, and down his neck, as he strains to hear the beast circling. A small sob escapes his throat, and as if mocking him, the growls deepen and increase in volume. Other noises join with the deep-throated snarls, and a cacophony of shrieks, roars, and howls unfolds from all sides. Amid the increasing noise, he turns back once more to gaze at his feet. The tendrils, still writhing around his feet, appear to take on a more solid state, and he flinches, knowing what’s coming. They climb; starting at the base of his toes, and seemingly liquid like, flow slowly over his feet, climbing his ankles. The familiar sensation of cold numbness begins to envelop him. Frantically trying to free himself, knowing it was no use, tears begin to fall from his eyes, sinking into the darkness like everything else. All feeling below his knees is gone, his attempts to move his legs both futile and fruitless. The pillar beneath him begins to shake, dragging his bare skin against the altar, and causing his wrists to chafe against the shackles, cutting deep into the soft flesh. Warm blood flows from his wrists, dripping down into the blackness engulfing him. As if feeding the liquid, the film of oily darkness began to accelerate up his body, now just below his stomach. Numb from the waist down, there was nothing left to do, but give himself to the dark. In a final burst, he yelled to the world, a cry of rage and pain, hurting for something he knew nothing of, just a gut feeling that somehow, he had failed, that this was his fault. The dark, permeating his skin, sliding down his throat, into his nostrils, corrupting his very soul was the last thing he could feel, before a world of numbness. His eyes, covered by the veil of evil, wept until they were covered. His life.. was no more.
And still… the darkness rose.
Let me know what you think, it has been a while since I've written, and any feedback would be much appreciated.