GreyLord wrote: ↑2 years ago
You are giving us more glimpses of the foe's capabilities, @wolfman, and it is daunting indeed. But our team is battle hardened as well. No insight, as yet, as to the identity of the mole. We see the handicap of morality. Rationality says Tamara should be dispatched. Your story remains a great read.
Thank you for your kind words. The quality of a hero is defined by the quality of their foes. Their foes will test them like never before.
Another outstanding Chapter: Sahsa is clearly someone you won´t wanna mess with. They she dealt with Tamara shows that clearly. And we learn more about Tamara´s and her Familiy - and Tamara does not know that Nikita has escaped and brought Dani with her.
I wonder where you will lead us next [mention]wolfman[/mention] !
Caesar73 wrote: ↑2 years ago
Another outstanding Chapter: Sahsa is clearly someone you won´t wanna mess with. They she dealt with Tamara shows that clearly. And we learn more about Tamara´s and her Familiy - and Tamara does not know that Nikita has escaped and brought Dani with her.
I wonder where you will lead us next @wolfman !
Where indeed? The players are all moving into position and the game is afoot
An exhausted Dani feels the crushing weight of the storm pressing her from all sides. Her armour is pitted and scarred from the ascent through the clawing storm. She hangs in the not-air within the heart of the Black roiling mass of souls and weeps.
“Such terror and pain. This is beyond the onslaught of souls at the Phoenicia Hotel. I have only felt wisps and hints so far, but this storm has raged here for hundreds of years.” She thinks when she returns to her senses. “I cannot imagine a force so powerful, as to prevent them from crossing over and keeping them here.”
Slowly she reaches out with her senses, exploring the scope of the storm then, she shakes her head in disbelief and shock, “There must be thousands of souls here. I need to find out how. I just hope I can do it without getting trapped in the storm.”
Taking a deep breath that means nothing in the world of the dead, she creates a pocket in the outside of her armour and extends it around a single soul, plucking a single soul from the storm.
Tendrils jab at her armour from every direction, trying to recover the lost soul, but she stands fast.
Dani braces herself and opens a chink in her armour allowing the soul to use her as a conduit to the great beyond. The soul blasts through her, leaving a sense of peace in its wake.
Dani feels the life memories of the soul pass through her, washing through her on its way to what lies beyond the Dead World.
In that moment, she understands what the storm is and why it is here. Without hesitation she sheds her armour and begins to glow as the woven storm of souls flows into her, flooding her mind.
“I feel them all, but it is too much.” Dani thinks, gritting her teeth and stretching her will to contain the force of souls flowing through her.
The two hundred strong flock wheels and turns above the volcano, eyes darting in all directions. It circles as a cloud of gulls, while several chevrons of birds peel off, spreading out across the island.
The first chevron of the flock glides over the airfield, watching the confusion as the beleaguered crew stumble off of the plane relaying their story to the waiting ground crew and armoured security personnel. As it circles, it passes over the motor pool and engineers exasperated at the damage to the fuel systems of tanks. Nikita thinks, “Well, it looks like Sasha has been here.” With powerful beats of their wings the chevron rises up towards the waiting flock overhead.
The second chevron, breaks East heading for the town where most of the islands natives reside. It slows passing over a gathering outside the town hall. With unsettling quiet, the flock settles on lamp posts and buildings, to listen. “Interesting the men guiding this, seem to be acting with reverence to those assembled. The move more like cops than the men at the airport, although they are dressed similarly.” Nikita observes, calmly.
The third chevron of ten birds, skims over the unpopulated heart of the island and circles over what appears to be a battalion of soldiers in defensive positions around the entrance to a mine shaft. One of the gulls lands in a secluded crevice above the mines entrance and changes into a score of house flies and slip inside the mine, camouflaging themselves again it’s walls as they delve deeper, “I wonder what’s down here.” Nikita thinks, “This is very well protected for a mine, there must be something of value down here.”
The final chevron of only five birds, heads out to sea, circling a yacht anchored off shore. One bird swoops down and explodes into a swarm of mosquitoes, then rapidly searches the ship. One of the insects hovers over a few drops of blood on the aft deck and descends to take a taste.
Vito nervous wipes his brow and takes the stage in front of the assembled islanders. “Today, I stand before you, not as your chief of police. I am here as a man who has been betrayed, like all of you.”
He pauses to let the burble of speculation fade, before continuing, “We chose to stay after a dark night in our past. We chose to hide from the war that ravaged our country. We chose to follow a man and name him as our Monarch.”
With tears in his eyes, he presses on, ”Little did we know, how poorly we chose. Today, I have learned that the war ended in nineteen ninety five and we have been kept here for the Monarch’s service.”
Shouts of disbelief and cries of anguish and pain ring out across the square. Vito feels their pain and spreads his hands calling for calm. With his gentle strength and aura of calm authority, the islanders regain their composure.
“I understand your anger. We have a ally that is helping us to free this island and remove the barrier hiding us from the world.” Vito says, with a calm resolve. “We will be able to see our loved ones again. In the mean time, we must be cautious. We have sealed off the town and some of my officers, have a watch on the main gate to keep the Monarch’s guard out.”
“That said, we need your help. Not everyone here lives in town. I ask that any who live here within the walls of the town open your homes to this who do not, to help keep everyone safe. This is a time of turmoil for us all, you can do your part, not with violence, but with kindness.” A ripple of murmurs echoes around the square as Vito continues, “My officers and I took an oath before we donned our uniforms to protect and serve the people of this island and this nation and this pledge holds true even today. We will do all it takes to keep you safe, until we are all free.”
Nikita listens closely, able to understand Hrvatski thanks to the taste of Tamara’s blood on the yacht, “I can’t help but like this guy. I am guessing that the ally he is referring to is Sasha. At this point, I think he has me as an ally too.”
As one, the flock feels Tamara’s memories pass through it. The gulls at the boat and airfield, begin to return to the main flock circling the island, ready to descend where needed.
“If the Arno’s find Timor, this island is going to become hell on earth.” Nikita thinks, worried, “I hope Dani is alright.”
Sasha shows no sign of fear or attempt at stealth, as she approaches the mine. The chain mail and helm gleam resplendent in the afternoon sun and her right hand rests casually on the hilt of her sword. The assembled guards, shakily hold their weapons vaguely aiming at her.
“We are not paid enough for this.” Says one, lowering his weapon.
“There is only one of her, we have firepower and weight of numbers “ a burly South African chips in.
A cheeky faced Londoner, fires back, “We’ll be sure to put that on your headstone.”
“Cowards. We can take her.” The South African cries out, but holds his fire.
“Don’t be daft. She could have geared up from the blokes she took down in town. Modern weapons and armour for the taking, yet she sticks with chain mail and melee weapons. She knows we are no threat to her.” The Londoner, retorts.
Samar listens to the mumbles of his men as, Sasha approaches, before commanding, “We have our orders gentlemen, lower your weapons.”
He removes his sidearm from its holster and lays it on a sandbag, next to his rifle, then takes to his feet. Holding his hands out from his sides, he walks forward slowly, looking Sasha in the eye.
Samar stops roughly six paces from her and turns in a slow circle to show he is not armed aside from his knife. As he turns he thinks to himself, “The reality is not what I was expecting. Maybe five feet seven tall, a hundred pounds tops, but solid muscle. She moves like a dancer and looks like a ancient warrior queen dressed like that. Briggs is right, she knows we are no threat to her.”
Sasha watches him closely, thinking, “Accent maybe Iraqi. Good shape, carries himself like a professional soldier. Knows how to take care of himself. Not a man to underestimate .”
Samar locks eyes with her, not wanting to look away first or speak first to establish dominance. Sasha merely looks back, holding his gaze, suspecting his intention. She smiles at him and raises an eyebrow.
He smiles back and snorts back a chuckle, “Fair enough Mrs Smith. My men and I have orders that we are to lay down arms, rather than face you in combat.” He watches her closely as he continues, “You have given a warning in an unquestionable way that resistance will be met with death. My men and I are not paid enough for the type of trouble you can bring.”
“Thank you for your cooperation. May I speak to your employer?” Sasha asks, keeping her tone light.
Samar considers the question, seriously, “Whilst we have orders not to engage you. I am not in a position to jeopardise the safety of my employer.” He pauses, considering his next words carefully, “I would need your assurance that you will not seek to injure or kill him.”
“I could just walk in and find him myself.” Sasha says, wondering where he is going with this.
“My men will not stop you, but I have pledged to protect him.” He says with a little sadness, “No matter the odds.”
Sasha gets a sense of the man before her and smiles again, “You have my word, unless I have reason to, I will not try to kill him.”
Samar nods thoughtfully, “I will take you to him.” He turns back towards the entrance to the mine.
“First. Where is Nikita?” Sasha demands, keeping her voice calm.
Samar looks back over his shoulder, “She escaped. Jumped out of the plane like you did.”
Sasha smiles enigmatically, “Didn’t you learn from the mistakes you made with my transport?”
Samar sighs softly, “We did indeed, but she had help. From the description, sounds like Danielle is with her.”
Sasha suppresses a laugh, “Niki and Dani are here and you think I am trouble? You have no idea.”
Before Samar can respond his attention is pulled to the brightly glowing clouds scudding over the island.
The forces of evil swirl in a mighty vortex. The forces for good slowly gather the threads of the situation. Your readers, at least myself, are left gasping in wonder about what will happen next.
So all the pieces come slowly together. Sasha knows now, that she is not on her own anymore - and that her Sisters are on the move to aid her. This whole Arc is well balanced and its parts fit together like a well oiled machine @wolfman
When i started writing this story all those months ago, i didn't ever think that it would reach 200,000 views.
I would like to say a heartfelt thank you to everyone who has read and commented, with special mention to [mention]Caesar73[/mention], [mention]GreyLord[/mention], [mention]slackywacky[/mention], [mention]Bandit666[/mention]. Thank you for your continued support and patronage.
This has been a heck of a ride and the ride isn't over just yet.
Dear [mention]wolfman[/mention] Congratualtions are in order, Revealtion has amassed over 200000 Clicks and counting. To follow the trials and tribulations of your Heroes has been an exciting trip beyond belief. You have created some truly remarkable characters and it would be unfair so single one of them out. May the muses be kind to you
What can I say but congrats on hitting the amazing 200’000 views. It shows what can be achieved with a good idea. Excellent and entertaining writing. And a gripping plot line. Here’s to the next 200’000 and more. It has been and remains a pleasure to catch up with events. Well done [mention]wolfman[/mention]
Thank you very much [mention]Caesar73[/mention] and [mention]Bandit666[/mention]
When i startes writing these tales, I did so wanting to write the kind od story i wanted to read. I had an idea of where the story would go, but i have let it flow and it has entrrtained me with its twists as much as i hope it has entertained you.
wolfman wrote: ↑2 years ago
I would like to say a heartfelt thank you to everyone who has read and commented, with special mention to Caesar73, GreyLord, slackywacky, Bandit666. Thank you for your continued support and patronage.
I do have a lot to catch up on, but your story has been one of the stories that keeps me coming back to this site. Thank you and congrats on 200k.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
Dani raises her face to the heavens seeking solace or surcease, but finding neither from the relentless river of souls, flowing through her to the great beyond.
Tears that don’t exist flow down cheeks that aren’t there. Each soul that passes through her blasts her mind with images and feeling from its life, in a cavalcade of sensation.
Her incorporeal body is filled with light and its glow is like a sun in this Dead World. Her incandescence is the most vibrant thing in this place.
She closes her eyes and purges her mind of thought. “I cannot stem the flow it is too draining. I just need to let it happen.”
Dani relaxes her not-body and simply inhabits the moment. Allowing the river to flow unimpeded, away from this world, to peace for the trapped souls.
“This may hurt, but with this action I free every soul that Timor Arno claims as his own. Everyone he and his army killed, all the inhabitants of this island that died since he hid himself here. I will see them all free.” Dani pledges.
Sasha stares at the clouds for a moment, with an unknowable smile. “I have a feeling that we should see Bernhard, sooner rather than later.”
Samar nods warily looming at the sky for one last glance before turning back to the mine, “I think you may be right.”
Before he takes two steps forward, soldiers start streaming out of the mine, ankle deep in a river of rats flowing forth and dispersing.
He catches on of the soldiers by the arm and demands, “Tell me what is going on.”
The terrified man looks through Samar and tries to shake loose. A slap from the Iraqi, brings him back to himself for a moment, “We found him. The king is alive and he is coming.”
Samar let’s the man go on his way and locks eyes with Sasha, “I am duty bound to get my employer out of the mine. You are under no such obligation.”
“Well it has been a bit of a journey to get here, shame to turn back without seeing the man himself.” Sasha says, keeping her tone light.
He nods and smiles, before turning to his men, “Trouble may be coming in a big way. If we are not out of the mine in thirty minutes, head to town and place yourself under the policija chief’s command. He may need your help.”
The men that aren’t running for the hills, nod and salute their understanding. With that he and Sasha head towards the belly of the mine.
Bernhard stares at the wall of the chamber and absent-mindedly knocks back a double vodka, “What have I done?”
He closes his eyes, relishing the burn of the alcohol, when he opens them again he stares into the torch light, until Samar and Sasha invade his solitude.
The shadows dance in the torch light as they enter. Bernhard sees Sasha and hangs his head, “I am so very sorry. I was blinded by grief and just wanted to hurt someone.”
Sasha regards the man closely, seeing nothing but defeat in him. “Grief does terrible things to those who embrace it. I hope that you can move forward in time.”
He looks up at her, with pleading eyes, “Please.” He says on the verge of tears, “I am mourning a brother. Please tell me, should I be mourning my sister too.”
Sasha subtly shakes her head, as she speaks gently, “She is safe. She is tied up in a laundry bag and locked in the trunk at the foot of your bed.”
“Thank you.” Bernhard says relieved, before he suppresses a smile, “Probably the best place for her.”
Samar gives a polite cough, “We should probably get moving. The King is on the move.”
All trace of humour drains from Bernhard’s face, “I know, I can feel him approaching.” He turns to Sasha with a look of defeat, “Twenty seven years, searching for his body. We were going to lay him to rest and claim his power for ourselves. We were so foolish.”
“How bad is it?” Sasha asks not wanting to hear the answer.
“At the height of his power, he marched at the head of a legion of the dead, anything up to a few thousand strong.” He explains, “They swept across Europe and the Middle East like locusts before settling here.”
“Sir, please. We need to leave.” Samar pleads glancing at the entrance to the chamber.
“We are the last of our people in here. We cannot risk him escaping.” Bernhard says, pulling a small black box from his pocket, depressing a button on its exterior. A moment later there is a distant crump, “We must not let him leave.”
“What have you done?” Sasha asks, with a finger of fear touching her heart.
Bernhard turns to her and shrugs, “The only thing I could do. I sealed the mine.” He says in a matter of fact tone.
The faces of Kim, Tara and Liam flash before her eyes with the feeling that she will not see them again.
For a moment she is lost in her own thoughts, until the buzzing of a house fly pulls her back to the world. Not because it is there, but because the buzz of the fly is signalling in more code, “Be cool. You are not alone.”
Dani hangs in the sky of the Dead World and opens her eyes confused. “Where did they all go?” She wonders, slowly turning on the spot, searching the empty not-air around her.
“I have not been guiding souls long enough to clear all of the souls gathered here.” Dani thinks, “It’s like something or someone pulled them away.”
She turns her gaze from the skies to the ground far below and peers through the barrier and her heart sinks. “No, this cannot happen. Neither the living nor the Dead deserve this. I need Sasha and Niki. I can’t do it alone.”
A three man team of deserters pause at the edge of a field to catch their breath. One of them sips from a canteen, despite his protests that it is water, the men with him know it is vodka, smuggled from the mainland.
Another sits with his back to a wall, slowly catching his breath. He pulls out of a photo and stares at it longingly. The face of his bride to be smiles back at him, taking him away from the fear of this island.
The third stands ready, carbine cradled in his arms. His demeanour is that stoic patience as he waits for his colleagues to get to their feet again.
His vigilance is in vain though. The man sat again the wall is pulled through it by skeletal arms. The drinker and the stoic try to save him but their bullets pass though the space between their ribs.
Both man struggle as stone hard, bony fingers dig into their arms and teeth taste the first meat in centuries.
As the soldiers last breaths leave their bodies, they rise to their feel and join those that took their lives.
The flock circles above the island watching in horror as patches of the island churn and spew forth, a horde of animated bodies. “I really hope this is Dani’s doing.”
The flock circles overhead, watching the former corpses, assembled in formations and split into two columns, the majority of the skeletal warriors begin a slow march towards the town, with a smaller column heading towards the mine.
“This feels like trouble.” Nikita thinks, weighing up her options. “I don’t want to spread myself too thin, but the townsfolk stand no chance on their own.” She feels a lump in the chest of every creature that makes up her mass, “Please forgive me, Sasha.”
As one, the flock over the island dives towards the graveyard on the edge of the town.
At the same time the gulls watching the town meeting, explode into clouds of insects and flow in a spiralling tornado next to a stunned Vito.
The insects coalesce leaving Nikita standing naked next to the police chief. She gently takes his arm and whispers into his ear, “I am so sorry about this. I am Sasha’s sister, Nikita. You have no reason to listen to, or trust me, but I need you to get everyone to safety, there is an army of the dead on its way.”
Vito looks into her piercing blue eyes and sees the same earnest look in them, that he saw in Sasha. He nods decisively, “Pull the men from the gate, get everyone inside and secure all ground floor doors and windows. Trouble is coming and we need to stand united.”
He turns back to Nikita, “Will you stand with us?”
Nikita smiles sadly, “I have to go to the graveyard first.” She pauses and places her hand on his arm, “I will return if I am able.”
Before he can speak again, she fades into a cloud of insects and flows through the streets to the northern entrance to the graveyard.
Tamara wakes slowly, try as she might she finds herself unable to open her eyes. “What is going on?” she thinks, finding herself unable to speak due to a cloth stuffed into her mouth and held in with countless wraps of tape.
The image of Sasha flashes in her mind, from the moment before she was knocked out. “That bitch. I will destroy her.” She thinks, angrily.
She tries to reach up to pull away the tape from her face, finding her arms pinned behind her, with several coils of tightly wound rope. “I am going to make her death slow for this.” She pledges, furious that she has been wrapped up like a piece of meat and by the feel of it, shoved in a box.
A scraping noise outside of the box, makes her freeze. She focuses herself concentrating on the muffled sounds in the room, hearing slow shuffling movements.
“I am not dying like this.” She decides. With some effort manages to pulls her wrists apart, then channels the inexorable strength of the tides and slowly separates her arms as if the ropes were mere smoke.
Working quietly, she frees herself from the ropes, but leaves the tape in place for fear of the noise it will cause.
Feeling the box being lifted she allows herself to relax and focuses on the moisture in the air around the villa.
Timor’s Undead Guard, lift the chest and balance it on their shoulders, then link arms under it as they bear her outside.
They act on a hard wired instinct to obey, incapable of independent thought, oblivious to the angry grey cloud a mere hundred metres across, marring the perfect blue sky.
They have no awareness of the massive boom from overhead. The chest explodes into matchsticks and lightning arcs from it into the Undead Guard, incinerating them on the spot.
Tamara lands roughly on her back, pulling herself free of the laundry bag and ripping the tape off of her face. With a furious anger in her eyes, she stomps back into the villa.
When next she emerges, she is clad in black leather trousers, and boots, paired with a white silk blouse and a cutlass at her waist. “It was a mistake to hold back with Sasha. It won’t happen again. It is time for the world to see the true power of the oceans.”
We are following your presentation of a maelstrom of divergent forces being forced into a gigantic confrontation. Beautifully written, [mention]wolfman[/mention]. I am swept along with your story, wondering where you will take us next.
The torches in the chamber create dark shadows of the boxes and patches of black in the rough hewn rock walls.
Sasha stares at the pile of rubble blocking the entrance to the mine. “We really are sealed in.” She thinks, with a sinking heart.
“If he gets loose, the world will pay a terrible price.” Bernhard says, gravely.
“Did you really have no idea, he might just rise up and be walking around?” Sasha asks, coldly.
“There were no indications. Nothing in any of the historical texts or legends, gave any indication.” Bernhard says, in a hurt almost broken tone.
“How can we stop him?” Sasha asks, searching the man’s expression for answers.
Bernhard shakes his head and look exhausted, “I have no...” He freezes at the sound of approaching steps.
Samar draws his knife and stands ready. Sasha turns toward the inky darkness resting her palm on the hilt of the gladius.
“Descendant! Attend me!” a low rumbling voice, growls from the darkness.
They watch as a shadow moves in the darkness. Approaching at a relaxed walking pace. Slowly his seven foot frame emerges into the light. Donned in leather trousers and boots, he wears a wolf skin cloak draped over his shoulders, but his heavily muscled bare chest, glistens with sweat.
He appears in his early thirties with thick dark shoulder length hair and a close trimmed beard. But his most striking feature is his dark almost black eyes.
Timor opens his mouth once more a growls, “Descendant! Attend me! Do not make me say it again.”
Bernhard cowers slightly and warily moves toward Timor. The ancient man moves with lightning speed, and clamps a massive hand over Bernhard’s mouth. With terrible force he lifts him by the face until he is at eye level.
Bernhard squirms under the ancient man’s gaze, feeling the other man’s eyes bore into him. “You worm. You thought you were going to take my power. Pah.” He scoffs derisively, “With the power you have, you should be ruling half the world by now.” He says in a cold tone, before casually slamming him face down on the hard stone floor.
Samar draws his knife and lunges at Timor. The ancient man strikes Samar’s wrist midstrike. His knife skitters across the floor, forcing Samar to launch his fist at his foes face.
Timor catches his wrist and picks up Samar by the throat. “Your loyalty is impressive and I commend you for your efforts. However, if you raise your hand to me again, it will be your last act before I add you to my legion.”
Timor drops the man to the floor and casually steps over him, stalking towards Bernhard. He pauses mid stride and turns to Sasha, “I am not sure what to make of you yet. But I would advise you to stay where you are. I will get to you in a moment.”
Sasha shrugs and relaxes her stance, thinking, “Save your energy for when it will be most effective.”
Bernhard covers on the floor with his hands raised, when Timor towers over him. “Please. Don’t kill me.”
Timor drags him to his feet and gives him an open handed slap, “Don’t ever beg.” He spits, “You are a walking disappointment. You have squandered your power and have fallen far short of living up to your birth right.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Worst of all, you allowed your deviant brother to run amok, without stopping him and letting him get killed. Not to mention that you turned a blind eye to Edward and Tamara’s incestuous relationship.”
Bernhard cowers and tries to edge away, feebly mumbling, “I’m sorry, I tried my best.”
“You are the head of the living bloodline. You are a travesty and you are an abject failure.” Timor says, reaching down. He ignores Bernhard’s attempted to push his hand away and digs his fingers into the prone man’s chest. “You are not worthy of my legacy.”
The stricken man howls feeling his soul rended and the seat of his power is torn from him. “Such a disappointment.” Timor sighs shakes his head in dismay and turns his back on Bernhard.
Samar rushes to his employers side, sensing the man’s turmoil. Bernhard hugs himself and rocks back and forth, unable to stop himself from mumbling, “It’s all gone.” Whilst Samar puts his arm around his employer and tries to comfort him.
Timor snarls over his shoulder, “Be thankful you still have your life.”
Timor stalks towards the pile of rumble blocking the entrance to the mine, heedless of everyone present and spits on the floor in disdain, “Fool thought this would stop me.”
Sasha leans back against the wall of the mine and watches the ancient man, somewhat surprised when he turns to her, “Who are you?” He asks thoughtfully, “The souls of those you have killed paint an interesting picture. But I want to know the real you.”
“I am the sister of the woman who killed Edward. Bernhard brought me here to pay the price and well.” She pauses, rubbing the back of her neck, “Well, things didn’t go according to his plan.”
“I see.” He says, fixing her with his gaze, looking into her soul, “Why are you not scared of me?”
“Same reason you are not scared of me. I see your power but am not convinced you are a threat.” Sasha says, keeping her tone light.
The ancient man throws his head back and roars with laughter. “Sasha, you are interesting and I have been in a cave for a long time. What are the chances that you and I could get better acquainted?”
“I’m flattered, but will have to say no.” Sasha says, calmly but firmly.
“I could just take you.” Timor says, his tone inscrutable.
“Any part of you that touches me, will be removed.” Sasha pledges, solemnly.
Her words hang in the air for a moment, before Timor shrugs, “Can’t blame me for trying.”
“How can I understand you? I know you are not speaking English, but I can follow every word.” Sasha asks, curiously, pretending not to notice as Timor edges closer.
“Magic, dear lady. How can my subjects cower in terror, if they cannot understand me?” He asks, rhetorically.
“You are not what I was expecting.” Sasha says, subtly backing away and wheeling to the right, “No one imprisoned you here. You chose to stay here didn’t you?”
He smiles, and twirls his fingers, indicating that she continue. “You are behind the historical records that Bernhard found. That is why there was no clue that you would rise up.”
Timor simply nods and allows her to continue. Sasha speaks in a thoughtfully tone allowing him to think she is lost in thought as he approaches, “He didn’t wake you. Something else did. Either you wanted to wake now, or something changed.”
“Very good.” Timor says, with an air of appreciation, “I felt my reliquary of souls beginning to drain and in order to protect my provision, I placed the remaining souls back into their bodies.” He whispers, placing his left hand on her shoulder.
In one fluid movement, she draws the gladius, severs his hand at the wrist and returns the weapon to its sheath. “I warned you.” She hisses, spinning away from him, keeping her hand on the hilt of her sword.
He catches his severed hand casually and reattaches it, with an admiring nod. “Very good indeed.” He says, barely above a whisper, wiggling the fingers of his left hand.
Sasha stares at him dumb struck. “How?”
“A sword is a tool. It is a thing without soul. No matter how powerful the wielder, no mere tool can render me harm.” He explains, off-handedly.
“This was a test.” Sasha realises, voicing her thoughts.
“That it was and you have passed. My descendants have failed me at every turn. Foiled by you and yours. I would very much like you to become a general for my army.” Timor says, warmly.
“Not happening, fella.” Sasha says, raising her fists and kicking off her boots.
“You think, you have a say in it.” He says , raising an eyebrow and advancing on her.
Sasha kicks him between the legs hard enough to lift him off of his feet, following up, by slamming his face into her knee. “Well, what do you know? My foot has a sole and can hurt you.”
Timor shoves her back with a massive palm to her chest. For a moment he feels the ache from his balls and the sting of his cheek and smiles, “Carry on like that, and I would have you as my wife.”
The column of Timor’s Undead Guard surrounding the mine work in silent purpose, lifting, shifting and passing rocks from the entrance like a well oiled machine.
As one they step back and clear a path, a split second before Sasha flies through the rock. By the time she lands on two feet and skids to a halt, she has willed her torn muscles and skin to knit back together.
Timor leaps through the hole she made and lands in a pool of sunlight, relishing the kiss of the sun for the first time in so many years. He wipes blood from his lip, with the back of his hard and smiles at Sasha, raising his hand giving her the come on.
She leaps towards him, running on the rapidly settling dust from her exit from the mine. She kicks him hard in the chest and flips away. Her foot crushes the skull of the skeleton she strikes and she spins back towards Timor, striking him again and again.
After a dozen skeletons have crumbled to the ground headless, Timor catches Sasha’s foot and twists, sending her spinning away.
Sasha lands on all fours and pushes herself to her feet. Timor closes the gap in an instant his fists seeking her face, but connecting with nothing but air, before she backflips away.
She ducks and weaves, bobbing on the balls of her feet and lashing out with devastating blows, dispatching skeletons left and right.
The horde pulls back forming a circle around Timor and Sasha. The combatants orbit the centre of the clearing like planets. “Sorry to destroy some of your soldiers.” Sasha says, with a dark smile.
Timor chuckles, “It matters not. The loss of their souls, pales in comparison to the souls you will claim for me as head of my army.”
“The devil will be ice skating to work, before that happens.” Sasha says, cracking her knuckles.
“Are all women of this age as formidable as you?” Timor asks, leaping at Sasha.
“Not all. But in my family, I am the least scary.” Sasha says, catching him and slamming him down onto his back.
“I look forward to meeting them. If they are as formidable as you say, maybe I will have all of you as my generals, to conquer this world and the next for me.” Timor says, earnestly as he moves with a speed, at odds with his size and sweeps her legs from under her. She lands heavily and manages to scramble backwards, before he can lay a hand on her.
“No chance pal.” Sasha declares feeling the circle of skeletons slowly closing around them. “He is slowly trying to reduce the amount of room I have to manoeuvre. Time to change the nature of the battle.” She thinks, rolling backwards onto her feet and then leaping at Timor.
He stumbles back, turning away just in time to save his eyes, from fingernails like talons. Sasha presses her advantage, aiming blow after blow at his face. Destroying his nose and opening countless cuts on his cheeks and eyebrows
Blinded by rivulets of blood flowing into his eyes, he flails wildly. Sasha ducks under his blows and sets her stance behind him and pulls back her fist to slam it into his spine.
But, Timor doesn’t need eyes to see. At least not eyes of his own. Using the eyes of his soldiers, he sees Sasha behind him and thrusts his foot back, slamming his foot into her stomach, then twisting and punishing her body with his knee before bringing his fist down on the back of her head.
Time stands still. Sasha’s body is filled with pain, triggering the memory of waking up after Liam’s birth. First the pain of the caesarean section, then the feeling of pure love, when she first laid eyes upon him.
Most people say that anger is the most dangerous emotion. But they are wrong. If they ask themselves, if there was a moment they knew that could kill someone, they would say yes. The moment that they felt love and would do anything to protect the object of that love.
Love kills without mercy. Love fights without fear. Most importantly, love conquers all.
Timor relaxes for an instance as Sasha falls forward, already feeling victorious. “This is a good day.” He whispers quietly, under his breath
Sasha’s mind is a whirling dervish of memories of her son, of Kim and Kurt. The burning fire of love in her mind fills her body with power.
“Are you ready to talk now?” Timor stands over her prone panting body, cautiously, ready for anything. Almost.
He waits with an air of respect, while she staggers to her feet. Wavering she places her left hand on his chest to steady herself.
Timor sees her weakness and reaches out to stroke her hair in a rare moment of kindness. He realises his mistake when she closes her fist, tangled in his chest hair and slams her right palm down on the back of her hand, ripping out an handful of hair.
He roars in pain, stumbling back again. Sasha leaps up, and before he can close his mouth, slams her fist into his chin, dislocating his jaw.
When she lands, she smashes her palms into his chest, sending him staggering back. She somersaults over his head landing behind him and pummelling his back and shoulders with a barrage of blows, before kicking hard between his shoulder blades.
He staggers forward, but there is no escape. Sasha vaults over his head, twisting in mid air landing in front of him. Stopping him in his tracks with, a foot to the solar plexus.
Momentarily winded, he is unable to react to the onslaught of blows she unleashes. Her hands are a blur of hammer blows, uppercut and hooks, punctuated by elbow strikes and gouges.
Timor grunts in pain and grabs her in a bear hug then slams his forehead down into the top of her skull and knees her in the stomach.
Sasha pulls free of his frip and retaliates with a massive uppercut to his chin, sending him sailing through the air into the wall of skeletons around them.
Timor slowly gets back to his feet. “I do hope my army is fairing better elsewhere on this island.” He thinks wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand and clicking his jaw back into place.
Sasha and Timor lock eyes. Nothing moves. There is no sound. No breeze, no animals, no creaking of skeletal limbs. Until Timor Arno, the necromancer and warlord speaks with the low rumble of the deep earth, “Is that all you’ve got?” He asks, before roaring with laughter.
Sasha joins him, with a battle roar of her own and both of them charge in for the kill.
This is one of the chapters, which feel like an action movie brought to Paper. Sasha is a force of nature. She will do anything for the People she holds dear.
Oh man. What a gripping. Descriptive couple of chapters. It visions it plants in the mind. The images it places before the reader. Great. Truly great. But in a way I can’t agree with [mention]Caesar73[/mention]. It’s not like a movie brought to paper. It should be a tale that goes from paper to the movie screen. I’d be first in the queue. For my ticket. That’s for sure
Bandit666 wrote: ↑2 years ago
Oh man. What a gripping. Descriptive couple of chapters. It visions it plants in the mind. The images it places before the reader. Great. Truly great. But in a way I can’t agree with @Caesar73. It’s not like a movie brought to paper. It should be a tale that goes from paper to the movie screen. I’d be first in the queue. For my ticket. That’s for sure
It would be wonderful to see this on the big screen.
No one has mentioned Timor. He almost seems like a fine fellow who is just a little misguided. I think that we could be mates after he gets straightened out. Congratulations, [mention]wolfman[/mention], you have created a great character here.
I often picture scenes as if they were on screen when i write them. If by some twist of fate this ever makes it to the big screen, i will have tickets to the premier for you.
I wanted a chapter which showed the raw power of Sasha and I am really happy with the result.
[mention]GreyLord[/mention]
I didn't want Timor to be a one dimensional character. He doesn't care about gender. He reapects power and sees Sasha as an equal who he wants on his side.
He is not a frothing lunatic like some of my villains, but he is by the same token not a good guy.
There woukd be a ticket to the premier for you too.
I am curious, if it were a film, who would you cast?
I often picture scenes as if they were on screen when i write them. If by some twist of fate this ever makes it to the big screen, i will have tickets to the premier for you.
[..]
I am curious, if it were a film, who would you cast?
I accept the invitation gladly About the Cast I have to think and do some revisiting But I will get will back to you!
A gentle breeze whips up dust devil’s in the graveyard, that dance between and around the inexorably advancing bodies of those who were interred. Bodies in various states of decay spanning the entire history of the island shambles forth seeking an exit.
Nikita stands ready at the northern exit. Each arm transformed into two tentacles, with a lion’s claw at the centre of each sucker. Her body is covered from head to foot in black chitinous armour and lion’s fangs fill her mouth.
She is a blur of movement. Tentacles lash out. Skulls are pulverised. Formerly animated bodies are flung back to the centre of the grave yard.
Nikitwo is less subtle at the eastern entrance. She is covered in black chitin, but her arms are unchanged, but every muscle in her body is augmented with octopoid musculature.
She favours a lamppost that she has torn from the ground. With effortless grace twirls it around her in dizzying arcs. Shattering any body it connects with, turning back the tide of the dead that flows towards her.
Nikithree takes a more direct approach. Charging through the horde, swinging shovels like axes. Her body, arms and heads arm mostly unchanged apart from being slightly smaller than normal and covered in chitin armour. Her legs however are those of a horse, with the twitch muscles of a leopard.
Able to unleash supreme bursts of speed, she strikes and fades before her quarry can react. She skirts the periphery of the those trying to escape, herding them towards Nikita and Nikitwo, thinning the horde from their rear.
Unlike the others Nikifour is not in the cemetery. She is stood at the gates of the city. Her skin is black chitin. Lions fangs fill her mouth and each arm is split into two tentacles, each welding a heavy chain.
She spins and twists like a dervish, flailing madly. To the untrained eye, there is no pattern, but those who watch closely see that at any one time, three of the chains target skulls of the besieging horde, while the forth weaves an impenetrable Web of flailing steel.
There is no thought, only action as the horde reaches her and goes no further. The marching Undead Guard converge on her position in front of the gates like automatons and she cuts them down like a machine.
Nikita smiles to herselves. “Everyone forgets that although I look normal, I am just under four hundred pounds of hyper dense muscle and bone.” She pauses her musing to rend a corpse to the four winds, “Even split like this, each of me is many times stronger than a normal person and infinitely more dangerous, before I augment myself with animal traits.”
Nikita surveys the graveyard and nods grimly, crushing the skulls of four guard, “This site will be clear in about eight minutes, then we unite with Nikifour before the bulk of the horde arrives at the gate. I hope Dani is not too long or this will be a long night.”
Dani soars like an Eagle. Resplendent wings of pure white, carry her with powerful strokes over the silently advancing horde.
But the horde is not what piques her curiosity. She is focused on a small patch of cloud atop a tornado slowly heading north, carving a path of destruction through the woods lining the lower slope of the volcano.
With a minor tilt of her wings, she alters course, gliding towards it like an albatross. “This feels like a different type of trouble.”
She takes a deep breath relishing the cool of the approaching evening air at this altitude, “I can feel the souls of the guards pass through me thanks to Niki, with a few from Sasha in her battle with Timor. But this tornado has nothing to do with the dead.”
With caution she approaches, steadily gaining altitude. She waits for the wind to change and dives hard. She streaks past the tornado, realising two things.
One, it is only five metres across at the base.
Two, there is someone walking at its centre.
What she doesn’t realise in that moment is that the person at the centre sees her too.
Tamara sees Dani, fly past without the impediment of the tornado around her. “It can’t be.” She thinks stunned, “She looks just like Edward described.”
“My brothers killer.” She screams into the storm, “Dani.”
Tamara reaches into the pit of her heart and pulls out all of the grief and pain at her brother’s loss and pours it into the tornado.
In the blink of an eye, Dani is engulfed in the storm and the merciless downdraft slams her into the ground in less than a second, shattering her wings.
She gathers the necrotic matter and forms it into a suit of armour around her. Not a moment later, the tornado retreats to the clouds and Dani finds herself at the heart of a water bubble.
Dani smiles to herself, “So, she can control water.” She sidesteps into the Dead World and casually walks behind Tamara. “She has the same entitled arrogance as Edward.” She thinks noting the woman’s body language.
Tamara screams in fear, when Dani appears behind her and taps her throat with a necrotic matter blade. She squirms as Dani wraps her free arm around her, pinning her arms in place.
Dani sees a blinding flash a split second too late to stop her being flung backwards off of Tamara. She hits the ground hard, skidding to a stop, her ears ringing.
Tamara’s body crackles with electricity, “You killed my brother.”
“Be specific. I have killed a lot of people’s brothers.” Dani says, noticing for the first time, the bruises on the other woman’s face.
“Don’t be coy, bitch. I am Tamara Arno, queen of the ocean. You killed Edward. I will kill you, your bitch sister and your whole family.” Tamara says, her voice filled with all the toxins in the sea.
Dani opens her mouth to speak, reliving in an instant everything Edward did to her and made her do. She sighs, “In your own way, you are as much of a threat to the world as your brother, aren’t you?”
“More. I taught him everything her knew.” Tamara says, coldly, “I must say I envied him, having you so tightly strapped up and vulnerable to his every whim.”
“She is trying to wind me up. Maybe she is stalling for time.” Dani thinks, before coolly saying, “If you taught him all he knew, you didn’t teach him very well. Despite his mind control and restraints, Eddie is dead and I am still here. Maybe it is you that needs lessons.”
With each word Dani says, Tamara feels her blood boil a little more. Her mind is filled with the last transmission she got from the island and the look of fear in her dying brothers eyes.
Tamara face consorts into a mask of rage and she screams, “You are not fit to speak his name.”
Dani floats less than an inch off of the ground. However, she is more than high enough to glide unimpeded. She moves faster than the eye can see and more importantly, faster than Tamara can draw a bead. Which is underlined by the line of lightning strikes in Dani’s wake.
She comes to a halt three feet from Tamara and raises an eyebrow.
Tamara’s eyes flash with rage and frustration and she throws herself at Dani. Tamara is a deviant bully, with a lifetime of cruelty, torment and manipulation behind her.
Dani on the other hand, is a professional soldier, cage fighter and covert operative, with a body augmented by pure will.
Tamara fights without finesse, launching a frenzied flurry of blows, putting her whole body into each blow. Dani turns each blow aside. “She has some training but she is not experienced. She will tire herself out before she manages to take me down.”
Dani circles and watches her foe closely for any change in her strategy. However, there is no change, she just keeps coming. Blow after blow are launched and stopped.
A change in Tamara’s footing gives Dani all the warning she needs, when her foe lunges at her trying to wrap her arms around Dani and a bear hug.
Dani ducks under her foes arms and simply reacts. Tamara feels herself caught in mid air unable to stop her momentum being used against her. She is upside down in mid air, when her back slams into the tree.
Almost comically, she slides down the trunk to rest at the trees base with her neck at an unnatural angle. Unable to catch herself, she flops to the side and comes to rest with her head resting on a tree root.
Dani approaches Tamara’s motionless body, cautiously at first until she sees the angle of the other woman’s neck and knows that she is no longer a threat to her or anyone else.
“I hit that tree so hard, why can’t I feel any pain?” Tamara wonders, absent mindedly. Without thinking she looks up at the woman towering over her. Pale skinned, her white hair gently tousled by the breeze, catching the sunsets rays with a soft glow.
She tries to sit up, but finds her body completely unresponsive. She tries to speak, but all she can do is silently move her lips.
The realisation comes like an avalanche, crushing her spirit, “I am paralysed.”
She gathers all of her strength and in a frenzy of panicked thoughts tries with all of her will to make even a small part of her body move. Every sensation she can’t vocalise, every word she cannot say is reflected in her eyes. The only way she can express herself.
More helpless than a kitten she looks up at Dani with pleading eyes and mouths, “Help me.”
Dani has watched as fear has engulfed Tamara, despite her bluster and threats, she does not see a monster, she sees a scared woman trapped in a paralysed body that is slowly shutting down.
Dani sits at the foot of the tree with her back resting on it. With a gentle touch, she helps Tamara lay on her back and rests the woman’s head on her thigh, so she can watch the sunset over the sea.
“Right now there is an army of Undead bearing down on Niki and Sasha is in battle with an ancient necromancer. But no matter what this woman has done, I can’t bring myself to her die alone.” Dani decides, almost feeling Tamara tremble.
Dani strokes Tamara’s hair, and gently whispers, “There is no pain, no feeling, nothing but this moment. You will soar into the great beyond and leave the pain of this world behind. There is nothing in this world more powerful than what is waiting for you. Your pain and fear are an anchor. Let it go and find peace.”
Tamara stares at the sunset and watches the play of the cloud over the sea she loved so dearly, until her vision goes dark. Her last thought, before oblivion is, “I am coming Edward.”
Dani whispers soothing litanies until she feels Tamara’s last breath leave her body and soul pass through her on its way to what lies beyond.
As she releases the last shred of Tamara’s madness, she places a gentle kiss on her forehead and whispers, “It’s better this way.”
She gathers the necrotic matter she brought and shapes it into a scoop. She gouges a deep hole in the ground and, gently lifts Tamara’s body down into the hole.
Dani watches as the scoop refills the grave and flattens the earth back down. Before leaving the scene, she says a silent prayer for the dead woman and another for the safety of her sisters.
This story has, and still is, pulling me in all sorts of directions, mentally. So many scenes to imagine, not just in this story, but also Devastation. A great read, although I do find it a shame it is always the same people reacting (as they do on many stories, including my own).
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
That was a tremendeous chapter: The Entry with Nikita fighting the Undead was great. But the Centrepievce of this installment was the fight between Dani and Tamara and for the very first time in her life Tamara meets someone who is stronger than her, her usual tactics does not work. Most touching the End: Dani stays with Tamara till she has drawn her last breath. That shows another side of Dani, we at times forget. All well done [mention]wolfman[/mention] !
[mention]slackywacky[/mention] and [mention]Caesar73[/mention] have great insights into this story. I am most impressed by the innate kindness that Dani displays and the interplay of justice and mercy. [mention]wolfman[/mention], you are a great master. I look forward to your grand opening as well as to new chapters. Your casting question requires some thought. I don't know if I can answer the question properly.
