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Post by Wolfe on Jan 15, 2014 23:11:14 GMT -5
Fear was the disease that crept through Brendan's veins, crippling his actions and killing his thoughts. Here he was, a mortal staring into the eyes of something more. More than a man. More than a deity. Perhaps more than a god.
He closed his eyes, seeing himself - a different Brendan. It was difficult to surmise whether this one was better or worse than his present self. Only, that this version had lived. And he had changed lives.
And Brendan knew.
Taking Rose by the hand, he whispered quietly,
"Every story has an ending. But this is not mine, nor yours. Our ending lies in the things yet to be."
He hesitated, unsure of what came next.
"Let's go. We have a future to write."
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Post by Sam on Jan 16, 2014 21:54:30 GMT -5
As Brendan tried to pull her away, Rose resisted his touch and stood firm with her feet planted strongly on the ground. With a fiery gaze, she stared at the strange man, cautious, yet she was curious. This man was strange and alien, his mishapen face and odd demeanor showed that, and she had never seen his like before. That, however, did not mean that she accepted him in any way. She had never been for religion and she lookedto nor believed in any god.
"I don't know who you are," she growled, "but you have no right challenging us in such a way. I don't know what you mean by being a god, but even if they existed, not a single man on Earth could hold such power. Now, if you will, kindly step down so we may pass."
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Post by Wolfe on Jan 17, 2014 0:43:56 GMT -5
The resulting laughter was hallowed, haunting; veering into insane realms. Even gods, he concluded, could be amused. The two mortals who stood before him were more actors on the stage, puppets pulled by invisible strings, pawns to greater beings.
To gods.
But even gods could be merciful. And he pitied these fools, these children challenging a force as old as time itself. If he had so commanded it, the two individuals in front of him could be reduced to oblivion. Better then, to let the fear spread, taking hold of person after person. And then, the Night Wanderers would come to rule the world once more, the rightful guardians. But not yet. Choosing his words with measured tact, he spoke, the menace an inherent quality:
"Our destiny - your fate is one set in stone. We will come to govern this world - a reign without end. And your kind - those who are the bearers of change, will be purged from this world. It matters not when you die, only how. Farewell - we will meet again under less favorable circumstances."
He turned away, his body already corroding into black smoke. In but a moment, his essence had faded into the hell from which he hailed from, leaving only a haunting warning of the times yet to come.
The future, it seemed, would only get darker.
END THREAD
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