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Author's note: I've always wanted to write about magic of some sort, but seeing as how I really do not like cliches,I thought it impossible. While it does still seem somewhat mainstream, I thought that the idea of a distorted mind manipulated by dark magic was unique and of course original. The name Bete' Noire ultimately means Human Detestment. Gene hates humans for their impurity and lust for blood but is oblivious so the truth. I hope you all enjoy!
"The brisk kissing of the rain…it is much more inviting and warm then I last remember it…" Thunder grumbled above in the deluded sky, the wind howled against his sweating face. The charring odor of ash and flesh decay began to die out with the aspiring rainfall that soon took place. The flames faded as the thickening mist rummaged about the sinful soil. The precious rainfall splashed upon his dark skin, dripping from the tip of his nose, between his grey, pupil less eyes. The drops raced down his dark blue, tight fitted leather jacket. The Arcanum upon the center of his jacket appeared to gleam with the flash of lighting. With an outreach of the palm of his gloved hand, he appeared to try and catch the rainfall within his fingers. "If only…life…were as innocent and passive as the rainfall. If only…it could rain the pure water of our mother earth, instead of the tainted liquid of human life!" His glove squished as he impulsively clasped his hand, revealing his distaste for human life. He raised his head to the sky, allowing the raindrops to splash upon his forehead, running down the sides of his face. The lightning crackled, the flash periodically revealing the discomfort upon his face. His moment's grace was intervened by the distant sound of fast pacing footsteps. Fast approaching they were, the faint smell of smoke from lit torches becoming less faint with each passing minute. He lowered his head into the dark of his jacket.
"More of them come to test you sorcerer. You know what you must do, bastard child of my blood and flesh…"
"N-No…I don't want to…I wish for no more bloodshed! I don't want it, I don't want it!"
"Fool! Those fleshy puppets of bone and organs…they will have your life! They will kill you without hesitation! Such is the foulness of this world! Do not succumb to this weakness of hesitancy and distrust! You do what you must to survive!"
"Why? Why do they hate me so much? W-What have I done?"
The cold embraced his face, the tears feeling as sharp ice beneath his eye sockets. He sighed, feeling the cool air snake from his mouth. His frigid breath appearing as the face of a demon before it vanished before him. With a massive flare of lightning, the gleam revealed the thrown of corpses from which he sat. One dismantled body atop the next, each face pale and lifeless. The blood ran as a stream from the crown of the dead throne at his feet, running as a creek to the fertilized soil beneath him. He sat atop the backside of the highest victim, feeling the cries and vengeful souls of the dead creeping up his spine, piercing his darkened spirit beyond reality.
"Gene Arch, Genesis of my ambition, blind sorcerer of purity and redemption, do you not see it? You're disgust for human life is not mere coincidence my dear identical…I have chosen you, as the key to unveil the true light amongst which this world has never seen before. They are jealous Gene…They wished to have upon them the power of a true spiritual being, however I have recognized them as sinful and self-righteous fools! They would punish you for your purity and grace."
"You lie! Why then…why do they come to me with such hate and repulsion? I hear them shout "vengeance" and "atonement"! Please, you must tell me what my eyes cannot see! What accursed things have these hands done that I can only hear their heart cleaving cries?"
"My poor Gene…I could only explain to you what misconceptions that those of your kind have made about you on their own behalf…You must use chaos as means of reconciliation and repent."
The cries of humans became more present with each shout. Gene stood upon the mount of corpses, the lightning hissing in the sky above. His face was sharp, his fists balled with a building blue-silver flame. The heavy wind carried the flowing tails of his jacket toward the potential onslaught of human sin just beyond the trees.
"Have mercy upon them if you will Gene. But know that they will cast you into the pit of despair and suffering at first chance. Purity is beyond their reach, if they are allowed to live, they will thirst for blood as scavengers in the night…"
"Mercy…I know nothing of the word. This foul stench in the air is not the decay of flesh, but the ongoing birth of more iniquity into this world. You have chosen me, and I will not allow the opportunity to rectify all the malice in this world fall into the shadow!"
Gene's body became consumed in the flame, his blind eyes suddenly becoming the most red of blood. Black pupils formed as diamonds in the center as his vision came into view. His eyes saw the humans that charged from beyond the trees, yet they appeared to him as uninhabited beasts of chipped fangs and nails. Their fur was matted and wild, their eyes bloodshot, appearing to have no particular target. Their torches appeared as the flaming swords they carried. The illusion absent in Gene's eyes, his teeth clenched with the wicked deities that stood before him.
"Merciful God…" One said with disbelief.
"T-There are so many of them…" Another said.
"He…did all of this? H-He's a monster! He must be stopped!" Another cried. The sound of outraged humans echoed in Gene's ears as ravenous cries of rampant dark souls.
"Hear me and hear me well lost souls! Speak repent now and I will not spill your unworthy blood! Recognize your taint and ask forgiveness!"
The blue flame arose above Gene to his lack of knowledge, the flame morphed to that of an atrocious demon's face, compelling the group of humans to retaliate in kind. Their shouts were nothing more than roars of undomesticated savages to Gene's ears. They raised their flaming swords and claws.
"That is your answer is it? Then so be it…May the hells have mercy on your forsaken souls, because I will not…"
"Gene Arch…genesis to the key of my chained soul…it is only a matter of time."
Bete’ Noire Chapter 2: The Book of Chaos: Chernobog
The corpses of the defiling beasts lay at Gene's feet. The blood dripped from his palm as the blue-silver flame died out in the tainted soil. The rain resumed its everlasting fall. His bloody, crimson eyes faded back to grey and his sight became forever black once more.
"No matter how much it rains, it could never wash away this disgust I feel…Why do I feel so…wrong…" Gene clasped his wrist as it trembled. The Sorcerer within the shadows of Gene's conscious presented a satisfied smile. His blood thirsty fangs shined within the darkness.
The heavy clouds of dark grey raced across the sky. The flash of lighting reflected in her ocean blue eyes. The ill omen she felt was one of great uneasiness and she couldn't help but lay her hand upon her chest, feeling the fury of her heart. She took to the wet, granite stone from the open window, the water dripping from the broken sealing around the frame. She tried to steady her breathing. Sweat formed at the peak of her forehead. She felt faint, using the window for support.
"Feeling ill again Angela?" A familiar voice was heard at her backside. She turned to see her elderly uncle standing just a few feet away. His long white hair was tied with several bands. The holy markings about his face ran from the center, trailing down his neck into his large white robe. "It isn't healthy for you to be up at this hour. If you are feeling ill again, you must take your bed-"
"I'm fine. Leave me be Uncle." Her cold voice revealed to him that she would rather be alone for the moment. After a moment's silence, her uncle spoke once more.
"You feel it don't you? It is faint, but I feel it as well." Angela's eyes roamed the clouds above at her uncle's words.
"Tell me uncle, this sudden sickness I feel, this burning in my heart…Why will it not go away? I feel as though something bad is going to happen." Angela could not take herself to remove her own hand from her heart.
"Has the sorceress told you nothing?"
"She…will not speak to me. No matter how much I ask, she will not answer. My mind has been my own for quite some time now. I…am worried." Angela finally turned to meet the eyes of her uncle. Her gleaming white hair was neatly banded on both sides of her head and down her back. She wore gleaming white leather with blue seams around the edges of her coat that just barely covering her chest. She wore a lengthy white skirt that was evenly cut into several tails, revealing her bare legs only covered by long white boots. Her uncle could see the fear in her eyes.
"The Sorceress of Order lies within you Angela. She is apart of you as you are apart of her. Your minds are linked in every aspect known possible. That includes your hearts does it not? I am almost certain that even if the sorceress is quiet, she is still trying to speak and connect with you. She may not be silent of her own free will. This burning sensation you feel within your heart may very well be her way of reaching you. Look deep inside your heart Angela, what do you feel she is trying to say?" Her uncle placed his warm hands upon both sides of her cheeks, staring deep within her eyes. Tears briskly fell from the corners of her eyes.
"She…fears that chaos is upon us…once again…" Angela fell to her knees, breathing heavily, still with her hand placed. "The sorcerer of chaos's power is growing. He will be coming for the book of chaos...Chernobog…That is what she has told me." The burning sensation within Angela deceased for the first time in days. She stood once more, feeling the strength return to her. "I do not understand it, why is it that I couldn't hear her voice until now? What did you do Uncle?" Angela removed her hand as the color returned to her face.
"Even from such a distance, he managed to put a weak seal upon your mind using the natural, magic wavelengths carried throughout the air…He managed to somehow separate your conscious from hers. Since you offered your heart to her as retribution for wielding her powers, it was her only way of reaching you. I was able to weaken the seal further, but ultimately you managed to break it." Her uncle became perplexed. His mind appeared to be somewhat distant.
"I wasn't even aware…How could I have been so careless as to not realize it sooner? I swear Uncle; I believe sometimes that the sorceress should have chosen you instead of me. I do not believe sometimes that I can live up to her standards…" Angela felt somewhat embarrassed.
"Do not say such things my dear Angela. She has chosen you for good reason. Whether you like it or not, you are her reincarnation. She bestowed her power to you in belief that you could be the one to make sure that Order is kept and restored when need be. You were chosen over me and your brother for reasons only she knows. Keep your head up my dear; we will need both you and her strength very soon. Now come with me." Angela's uncle turned and began walking toward the narrow hallway that led to her room.
"Where are we going at this hour?" Angela followed close behind, realizing the change in tone in her uncle's voice.
"The only reason the sorcerer was able to get to you so easily was not because you were careless, it is because of Chernobog." Her uncle explained as they walked down the narrow hall. Upon the walls were lit candles between several gold framed pictures. Each picture was the previous inheritor of the sorceress's power. The pictures were about the length of the stone hall that carried on for several minutes.
"Chernobog, The Book of Chaos...How can that be though? It's been kept bound by the sorceress's chains for centuries now. Why would that power weaken so suddenly? Unless…" Angela stopped, nearly running into the back of her uncle's broad backside.
"Yes, the sorcerer of Chaos's power has grown and Chernobog realizes this. Chaos will be making his move in the form of his new host. If I had to guess, I would say that Chaos implemented some sort of trigger within the book for just such an occasion. The sorceress has been able to re-seal him at every turn mainly because he was unprepared. This is the first to my knowledge where he has taken such lengths. This trigger was meant to go off at his command which would more than likely have been activated by something the host must have done to prove his power was enough to wield Chernobog. Now that the book has been notified of a worthy host, the trigger activated. The only way the chains were withheld upon the book is because the sorceress was able to focus her powers. But since the trigger disturbed the flow of her conscious to yours, her focus was on fixing that problem, ultimately weakening the chains that bound the book. It is at this present time, that Chaos will make his move, before she has a chance to re-bind the book…" Her uncle clasped his hands together and clenched his teeth. "The barrier around this entire city is gone Angela and I am afraid that your powers are not yet honed enough to re-bind the book. The only thing you can do at this present time is stay with Chernobog."
"Wait, what are saying Uncle? Do you all plan to try and kill him yourselves? I-I can't allow that, please let me be the one to-" Her uncle turned to her and hugged her tightly.
"We will hold him as best we can. Should he manage to get through us and to the book, we will have to rely on your strength to stop him. You nor I nor anyone else can even touch the book. Should he get his hands on it, he will be one step closer to his ambition. We cannot allow that to happen. There isn't much argue in the matter. I am certain the sorceress agrees with me?" Angela held tightly her uncle's hand in both of hers, rubbing it upon her cheek. The tears ran down his hand.
"She does…" Angela didn't want to let go.
"I will take you to the sanctum in which the Chernobog sleeps. You will see for yourself once we get there. I have entrusted your brother Aaron to protect the doors just outside of the sanctum. Even if Chaos somehow gets through him, he will stand no chance against you at that point. Come now, we must hurry." Her uncle groped her wrist, pulling her against her own will. Suddenly the halls became longer and narrower. Angela felt herself being somewhat strangled by her own thoughts…almost suffocating. She tried as she could to hold back her tears.
"Everyone is sacrificing themselves to protect me and to maintain order in the world. I'm so pathetic…My own uncle doesn't even trust me on the front lines; I'm almost used as a last resort. Oh Uncle I know you're looking out for me, but if you die on my accord, I may never forgive myself…"
Gene walked unsteadily through the dark forest. His head throbbed as he attempted to shun the foul screams and cries of the "beasts" he had slain. No matter how much he shook his head, the noise wouldn't stop. He felt himself on the brink of losing sanity.
"It bothers you does it not?" The sorcerer within Gene spoke in a soft tone. His voice echoed in Gene's mind, calming the ever rushing blood within his veins.
"You hear it too don't you? They won't stop shouting. It's become much more frequent lately. The more of these…things, these humans as you call it, that I kill, the louder they shout and whine and the less I feel myself thinking clearly. Why won't they just shut up?" Gene let himself rest against a lopsided tree stomp. The ants upon the stomp scurried away from him with great haste to his lack of knowledge.
"Such is the cry of savage beasts Gene. They do not know order and peace as you do. They will be blood lusting even after death. Your mind is so pure and exact, the key to cleansing this foul planet. Their spirits would try and hinder you from achieving your goal." The mischievous voice of the Sorcerer swayed Gene's mind once more.
"I…suppose you are right. It is only natural that their souls would be tainted as was their bodies. I will not think too much into the matter. Thank you Order, without your guidance, I surely would have fallen pray to these creatures sometime ago. What now would you have me do?" Gene eased his mind. His eyes saw darkness and nothing more.
"As loyal as ever Gene. I know now that I was correct in my decision when choosing you as the reincarnated Sorcerer of Order. I also have news for you. Stand now, Gene." Gene followed his master's orders, standing with perfect posture. "Allow me to show you the new ability that you now possess." Gene's body became engulfed in the Sorcerer's blue-silver flame once again. The flame shrouded Gene's body. Gene could faintly saw two small white lights that slowly became brighter. "Enhance your sight with my magic Gene." The sorcerer ordered. Gene closed his eyes for only a moment. With a corpus inhale, he opened his eyes. His clouded grey eyes burned a crimson, fiery red as blood flowed from corners. The environment he saw before him was a swarming wave of destruction. The trees were dead and the soil dry and lifeless. The dark clouds overhead appeared to be endless. His swayed mind was oblivious to the greenery and sunlight that surrounded him. "Now Gene, what do you see?" Gene's eyes roamed the openness above him.
"I see…a distortion of colors. There are multiple ones, but most of them are very translucent and just barely noticeable. But wait…" Gene could see between the distortions of colors, one violet color was the most vibrant amongst all the other hazed colors. "There is one violet color that is almost too thick to see through, but is most definitely there." Gene glared at the stream of violet, noticing that it created a twisted path that trailed off in one particular direction until it could not be seen. "What is this? I was never able to see this before."
"That, Gene, is what is known as a magical wavelength." Order replied. "Anything that is magically enhanced or births natural magic energy produces a magic wavelength. It is simply decayed magical energy that has fused with dust or smoke in the air, making it visible enough to be seen by skillful sorcerers such as you. Your power is now honed enough so that you can see these wavelengths whenever you choose." Order explained. Gene's eyes roamed about with interest. "Now…" Gene felt a slight burning sensation in his eyes. The faded colors up above vanished, leaving only the heavy violet cloud stream. "This wavelength is no ordinary wavelength. It is very rare to see any sort of wavelength get this heavy in color or go for such a distance which can only mean one thing."
"Whatever is emitting this much energy must be very powerful." Gene concluded, still staring at the stream without blinking.
"That is correct. Listen carefully Gene. This stream of magical energy leads to none other than the Book of Order: Chernobog." Order could feel Gene's immediate reaction. The rush of wind picked up and the tips of his fingers burned with anticipation.
“Chernobog: The most powerful book ever to bestow upon this world; the holy book of legend that the humans took away from you. You speak to me about this now on what accord?” Gene questioned, while indirectly answering his own question, still calming the building fire within.
“This book contains the power to altercate the very fabrics that have sewn this existence. You are now ready to wield that power. Gene, you will go and retrieve my book.” Order commanded. The crimson in Gene’s eyes blazed the most florescent red. The scarlet-black blood raced down the sides of his face from the tips of his eyes. Gene became overwhelmed with a sudden lusting for the book. The chaotic fangs of Chernobog have reached out to their new host. Gene welcomed the chaos to shroud his body and consume his conscious, believing this psychotic thirst for blood was the way of purity and righteousness. The living flame of chaos that surrounded him burned burgundy and black, torching every living thing within his wake. Gene smiled…his teeth crunching upon one another and the thick salivations from his mouth were heavy. “Go.” Upon Order’s command, Gene’s foot pressed heavily into the earth before he ignited into a violent, one man stampede through the forest towards Chernobog. As the blood trailed from his eyes, he left a path of dark flames and dead animals in his wake. Dark clouds of heavy thunder followed close behind him and the head of the black flame howled sickening cries that echoed throughout the sky.
Angela gasped, feeling herself short of breath. As she and her Uncle entered the sanctum. She fell to her knees, sweating profusely. Her brother Aaron, whom guarded the sanctum, watched his younger sister fall to her knees with pity in his eyes.
“Angela, my dear what’s wrong?” Her Uncle ran to her side without moment’s hesitation. Her tears were red as they splashed upon the cool tile that her hands rested on. She raised her head to meet her Uncle’s eyes. Her tears were red.
“Chernobog has fully awakened…He is coming now.” Angela revealed. Aaron stood before her as to show himself to be greater, towering over her with his enormous, glorious white broadsword. His intimidating stance and cold eyes were nothing Angela was unfamiliar with. Aaron’s short, white hair just barely covered his face but gathered as one pointed tip in the back that reached past his shoulders. His skin was dark tan and he had a scar carved into his face of which was a cross. His armor was dark turquoise and black. He wore mighty gauntlet gloves that overtook his entire arms and massive shoulder guards with the sanctum insignia upon them. Two cloth, dark green tails tied around his neck, trailing down his backside. Chain mail surrounded his waist, and a grand cloth garment with the sanctum’s insignia ran the length of his lower torso in the front, revealing only the sides of his large steel boots. Within his left eye was an embedded crest within his pupil; a crest that represented his sworn oath to protect the Sorceress. His distraught stare was nothing new to Angela. Their uncle helped her to her feet.
“He is coming sooner than I had expected…” Her uncle thought. “Something is very much different this time. Chernobog has not fully awakened since Chaos himself roamed the earth…What could this mean? What is this sickening feeling that I have taken?” He supported his niece whom closed her eyes to speak with the sorceress. He met the sharp stare of his nephew. “Be sure to be prepared Aaron. I would grieve greatly should the sorcerer take your life as well.” They walked past Aaron, yet he remained unresponsive, only staring into the darkness that was the narrow hall leading to the sanctum below. He impaled his great sword into the fine stone, revealing his inner frustrations.
Angela and her uncle made their way slowly down the descending staircase. Thousands of encryptions were carved into the walls leading downward. These encryptions were the thousands of words the sorceress chanted, to seal the book away and to assure its sleep. Angela wiped the blood from her face.
“He hates me.” She said referring to her brother. Her uncle lye his hand upon her shoulder, giving her a brisk, warm smile to sooth her mind.
“He is a knight my dear. He has been blessed with the gift of protecting his younger sister, something that couldn’t be a better job for him. He withheld rigorous training and discipline so that he could protect you. I’m sure he wouldn’t have it any other way. I will admit he has been somewhat…void of emotions, but I can see that he cares for you more than himself even. Do not worry.” His warm smile faded quickly as they came upon the room. The great door towered the height of lower level. It was barricaded behind several metal frames that had chains that ran throughout. The hundreds of chains that ran throughout the door met at two small alters upon each side, both igniting a white flame. Angela’s uncle walked before her, standing with his arms open to the doors. The white flames reacted, snaking from the respective alters and resting within his hands. He brought his arms together, directing the flame at the door. The chains responded by reliving themselves from the door. It opened slowly, groaning deeply as to rumble the ground beneath them. Angela’s body tensed up as the door opened. She could feel the dark pressures of the book pressing against her chest. A faded red mist crawled about at their feet. The tails of the mist were misshapen claws that scratched at the ground and walls within. “My God…” Her uncle wasted no time running within the chamber. The gust of wind deformed the mist, but the claws returned to their original shape soon afterward.
“Uncle!” Angela followed close behind, feeling somewhat choked by the mist. As Angela made her way down the corridor, the walls began to bleed. It gushed from the crevices within the low ceiling above her. The blood dripped upon her shoulder, splashing upon the top of her head, face and neck. The blood drops landed on her. They disfigured and morphed into red serpents that constricted her neck. Red vines entangled her legs from below and the sharp claws of the mist dug their nails into her waist. The blood within the walls burned a dark flame around her. She could see and feel her flesh burning. Its searing blaze cut to the bone. She found that her perpetual screaming emitted no sound and her sight became faint.
“It hurts so much…please someone, anyone….Make the pain stop, make it go away….I can’t take it, it hurts so much! It hurts so much!” Angela felt the life draining from her as the serpents constricted tightly around her neck and waist. The claws dug deeper and the everlasting flames burned brighter. “I can’t breathe…I’m going to die…” She concluded.
“-gela!” A faint voice attempted to reach her in the distance. “An-“Its familiar shout reached her again. “Sorc…ress…p…owe…r! U…se…it!” It cried out once more.
“Sorceress, please help me, I beg you…” A warming light sparkled from her heart. The ethereal glow banished the snakes away in fear. The claws retreated back with the mist and the blood absorbed back into the walls. Angela opened her eyes to find her uncle calling out to her with fear in his eyes. He shook her, placing his hands upon her face.
“Angela! Angela! Oh my dear!” He sighed heavily as she opened her eyes.
“Uncle. What happened to me? Was that real?” Angela shook her head, standing as to examine the walls to see no blood, nor red mist.
“That was the power of Chaos, the power of Chernobog. It makes the sane, insane and grants the evil the everlasting ecstasy of death and destruction. Even I became bound in its overwhelming embrace.” Angela believed herself to still be somewhat under the book’s illusion because she saw the faint grin of her uncle as they both stood. “Only you can remain in this sanctum for an extended amount of time. I am afraid that since the book has fully awakened, I cannot get any closer than this. Should you fall under the book’s spell again; the sorceress will be able to neutralize any abnormalities that may have infiltrated your conscious.” Angela turned to him suddenly feeling more helpless than she had ever felt. He could see the doubt and fear in her eyes. They were swelled from her agonizing tears. He smiled back at her. The same doubtful smile he had always given her, as if he were hiding something. He put his hands together but only for a moment before planting them upon the floor. An encirclement of light emitted from his palm. He inhaled, thrusting his hand into the ground within the faint encirclement of light. After a moment’s pass, he pulled his hand from within holding with it a great lance. Its body was of the greatest craftsmanship. The shaft of the lane was constructed from stainless, silver titanium with the sorceress’s enchantments inscribed upon its center. The tip was lined with golden seams and sharp enough to pierce through the most solid of armor. White griffin wings opened as wings upon each side of the lance’s head. Its handle was complete with a golden ribbon of two magnificently designed tails with seal markings read down its body. “With this, the silver lance of order, Aveline, you will bring this sorcerer to his knees.” Angela’s uncle relieved the lance into her hands. She could feel the power suppressed within slowly reacting to her presence. Angela clasped the mighty lance in the palms of her hands. For the first time in days, she felt as though she were holding on to an enormous ray of hope as the power flowed inside her.
“I will stop him Uncle.” The expression on her face was vibrant and brave. She turned to face the alter up ahead where Chernobog waited anxiously for its master.
“I know you will, but pray that it does not get to that point. I will take my leave now. Even I can feel his presence nearing.” He turned to her one last time. “I have raised you and your brother Aaron as though you were my own two children. I have personally trained you for times such as this in hopes that you can protect yourselves at my absence. Know however, that even if I am not here with you in person, I will always be watching over you. I promised your mother that I would, and that is a promise I intend to keep.” He hugged her tightly as she responded in kind. “I will return to you.” With great haste he made his leave. Angela outreached her hand, uneasy to let him go. The foul air surrounding the book presented an ill omen.
Gene released his hand from the beast’s chest. The dark flame engulfing his hand dried up the blood he believed to be tainted. The deathly cries of humans echoed in his ears as beastly wails. The monsters rummaged about the ground, clawing for some haven of safety. As one helpless crawled at his feet, reaching as it would to plea for mercy, Gene crushed its head into the dirt to reveal his lack of pity for the impure savages that roamed about.
“Disgusting.” His blazed eyes focused on the thickening wavelength above. He licked his lips following the stream’s color down a mountain pass that reached deep below into the depths of a man-made canyon. The clouds overshadowed the pass that lead downward as to protect it from view. Gene playfully kicked a lone corpse downward into the canyon, watching its body crush upon the jagged rocks below. The wavelength of Chernobog led downward. The clouds funneled above him, darkening the canyon just below the small cliff upon which he stood. “Even with all this human filth stanching the air, I can feel it calling to me. It wants me to come save it!” Gene’s voice was raspy and dark, yet he felt pure and mighty. “I have come to save you from the darkness Chernobog!” His eyes resumed to bleed with his ghastly laugh. He was unaware that it was chaos he tasted upon his lips.
“This crag was created by the sorceress of chaos. Below it rests the dark city of Lucretia in which Chernobog is being withheld. Lucretia is a city embedded within the crag as its buildings run throughout the walls of the inside. The very city itself was once used as a magic weapon by Chaos to absorb nature energy and convert it into dark magic. I was able to destroy the core of the weapon, but as you can see, humans were able to find the crag made by Chaos and take advantage of the decayed dark magics in the air to turn it into a city. This city could very well be in the midst of revamping this weapon; therefore it must be destroyed along with the humans that dwell within.” Order explained. The wind picked up with the gathering of clouds above. Following his snicker, Gene leaped from the serrated cliff side into the depths of the canyon. The chaotic adrenalines coursed through his veins and he felt the excitement brought about by Chernobog. He dashed down the steep wall into the shadows, leaving blood to stain it. The city came into view and he could see the great bridge just below him, the beasts snarled and howled at his presence. Their claws assumed to be emitting dark magic from their foul souls.
“Followers of Chaos must be purified!” His voice echoed within the crag. He propelled himself from the canyon side with his body sharp and direct. The black flame coated his body showing him as a black meteor fallen from the sky. The mages upon the bridge became bewildered by Gene’s presence, suddenly overcome by fear. Each screamed in terror, feeling the blazing darkness closing in. All but one unlucky mage was caught in the collision of Gene’s impact. The explosion delivered a shockwave throughout the bridge and a vicious rumble throughout the city. The black flame spread throughout the bridge. It hissed arising from a crevice on its own accord. The small groupings of black flame arose as well pulsating as to look like Gene’s appendages, piercing through the hearts of the remaining retreating mages. Their blood filled the building cracks erupting upon the falling bridged. Gene’s hand was placed upon the mage’s face, squeezing as tight as possible. The mages awe -stricken eyes and pale skin were nothing more than cracked scales and a diced tongue of rotted flesh. Gene squeezed harder with his palm over demon’s mouth to hush its cries. “You wretched, repulsive cluster of the foulest excrement! I cannot take myself to believe that I should be cursed with the blood of this forsaken race! It pisses me to the highest degree! With my power… I will be sure to reconcile by killing every last one of you!” Gene spit in the beasts face before he veiled his hand with the wicked flame once again. “That look on your face is nauseating! Stop looking at me with that face! It desecrates the air! Why are you so disgusting? Answer me!” The sage tried as he could to shake his head, moaning helplessly. His skin boiled slowly by the flame and his tears steamed. Gene’s smile was distorted and wild while he glared into the beast’s eyes. He leaned over, putting his mouth close to the beast’s ear. “I will burn your filth away…” He whispered. Gene leaped from rock to rock entering from the opposite side of the bridge, leaving the collapsed bridged and dead mages in his wake. The headless corpse his main victim fell into the abyss with the shredded, seared remnants of his head upon the fallen rock. Gene examined the stone architecture that ran throughout the side of the canyon. It appeared to use the canyon itself as protection with a hollow center that could easily preserve anything not meant to be discovered. The helpless mages threw themselves in Gene’s wake only to stand as mere sacrifices rather than hindrances. His black flame rendered their novice strikes useless. He walked with an unthreatened stature toward the Lucretian Temple. He neither stopped nor did his eyes wonder from his path. The flame blazed at his feet, striking every man down one by one. They ambushed him from above only to helplessly burn a slow death while colliding with the surface. Dozens of mages and sorceress knights rampaged in masses towards Gene. He stopped as the clouds thickened overhead. The rumble of thunder quaked at his feet. The cluster of fear bound soldiers stopped before him. Gene inhaled while opening his arms outward and his head towards the sky. The knights looked upon one another with confusion, still reluctant to make the next bold step. Their comrades lye dead before their eyes, resulting from their carelessness. They stepped back. The people of the city cracked their doors and windows. All eyes were focused on Gene, whom appeared to be void of reality. His inhale was long and deep, yet his exhale was croaky and vicious, echoing throughout the canyon city. “Here me and here me well…” Gene began. “I am your savior. I am purity, you are taint. I am forgiveness and you are repent. Come to me now and accept your judgment as sinful followers of Chaos and I will make your deaths ‘swift and painless, much more than you deserve.” His eyes dangled before him and his face was shadowed in his jacket. His words were quick, sharp, and consecutively changed in tone, almost unable to be understood. “Will you not comply? Will you not repent demons?” Each citizen amongst the city talked amongst themselves angrily.
“Who is he talking about? We are no followers of Chaos! The nerve!”
“We follow the Sorceress! We are the pure ones! You are the demon!”
“Away with you, follower of Chaos! You need to die!” Their angry shouts resonated within Gene’s head. Each voice sounded as bloody hollers from one twisted creature to the next. The bawling of savages became louder and louder, drilling through Gene’s skull. Between the shredded wails of demons and his blurred vision, Gene was on the brink of losing it. “There it is again! That noise! That awful, awful noise! Make it stop! Aaaahhhhhh!” He placed his hands upon his head, falling to his knees. The knights and mages sought the opportunity to charge in. Their battle cries tore at Gene’s sanity.
“For Lucretia!” They shouted. Their armor clinging upon one another was yet another daunting noise that caused Gene’s ears to bleed. The citizens cheered for their brave warriors. Gene’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. He released his hands fro his head, still on his knees. His body bent backward with his chest to the sky. Suddenly all became quiet. He could no longer hear the gruesome roars of savages nor the screeching of poorly made metal. He believed his mind to be clear, yet he unintentionally welcomed the bitter taste of Chernobog’s fury upon his tongue. He inhaled once more as the soldiers presumed to charge him. His entire body folded backward, following the inflating of his chest. They were only inches away, ready to cleave through his body. As time appeared to stand still only for a moment, his body projected forward. Time resumed and a ghastly scream followed. It tore through every body within ear shot. Each face became pale and eyes whitened. Their mouths, eyes, and ears bled before each citizen fell to their deaths. Women, men, and children fell through their doors and windows, decorating the streets with their corpses. The rain that fell came together as a small wave that crashed into the Temple. Chernobog released its grip from Gene’s tongue and his sanity returned. His eyes faded white and all became lightless once again. The silence in his ears was overwhelmingly disorienting.
Angela covered her ears. The walls rumbled and rocks fell from above. “What was that noise? Brother?” She called from behind the door.
“I’m going.” Aaron replied coldly. Angela could only hear his footsteps as he ascended the stairs. Her Uncle stood at the front doors of the Temple. He could smell the blood emitting from the other side of the door. He placed his hands upon the large doors. They groaned heavily.
Gene panted. His heart was burning and his head was light. He hardly stood for his knees were wobbly and weak. His entire body trembled while the rain hit his face. “Why is it silent? Where am I? Hello? Someone answer me please!” He cried. He outreached his hands before him, blindly waving them around, powerlessly eager to touch a surface of some sort. He took baby steps nearly forgetting how to walk. After taking several steps, his foot caught something large and soft. He stumbled and landed in a puddle of rainwater. His hands wondered about the ground. Angela’s uncle opened the gates, stepping into the light. He could only stare. His body would not allow any other function of the sort. He felt his soul ripped, unable to fully believe that his mind was projecting reality through his old eyes. The bridge was destroyed. Disfigured bodies swarmed the streets and bridge. Just before him was only one person amongst the living. This person was crawling about bodies and pools of blood, as it rained down upon his face.