Not by choice, I'm still not feeling right. In any sense. But the Timberwolves have decided I've overstayed my welcome. I didn't feel like the sleeping too long last night, so I was awake in bed when I heard a mass of footsteps heading down the hallway towards my room. Orderly and uniform marching over the carpeted floor. Don't ask me how the Timberwolves found my location (This damn blog!), but I barely managed to grab all my things before the door was kicked in, revealing Mr. Fedora, from the Vatican chamber.
I had gotten out to the balcony, exposing myself to the cold winter air of Rome when the gas masked cultists flooded in. I didn't have anywhere to run but to the sides, so I clambered over the steel railing around the balcony and onto a conveniently placed stone ledge. The wind whipped at my clothing as I edged along the building's side, desperately trying to escape the Timberwolves' guns. They had run out to the balcony to pursue me, luckily enough the design of the building allowed me escape from their bullets, which threw out dust as they collided with a jut in the wall. I slid along the building, my hands grabbing at it as much as they could on the relatively flat surface and keeping my bag in place, as the Timberwolves climbed over the balcony in pursuit.
I moved as fast as I could, several stories off the ground, remind me to get a lower room next time. Until I eventually found my way to a window a couple rooms over. It would do me no good as the Timberwolves inside would get to it before I managed to even get through the window. There was one other option, so I got down on the ledge and turn my body towards the wall, letting my feet drop down towards the street below. I dropped, grabbing onto a window for support as my feet struck the ledge below and pulled myself closer before I had a chance to fall backwards.
I shot the lock on the window and pushed it in, leaping into the room and onto the carpeted floor within. Racing passed a shocked couple I ran from the room and into the hallway before the Timberwolves above could get down. I sprinted down the hallway and into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time and jumping down to the next flat whenever I was close enough. I made it down to the lobby and knocked out a couple Timberwolf guards with the handle of my gun. My possession must afford me extra strength and speed and come to think of it, probably aim, 'cause let's face it, I'm only 14! Nearly 15 but hardly old enough to do pretty much any of the stuff I have so far.
I got out on the street, looking up to my hotel room. There standing on the balcony ominously was Mr. Fedora the Apostle. He lifted a grey-gloved hand and waved at me, I just turned away and ran for it. I ran for the rest of the night until I was convinced the Timberwolves didn't know where I was anymore and weren't liable to find out any time soon. With the Towerborn's tracking device removed by the Timberwolves I'm back to square one. And with the Timberwolves on alert to my presence and actively hunting me, I've been pushed back into square zero.
I've got myself a new place to stay, and I'm not giving any information on it. I'm not risking the Timberwolves finding me again. I'm going to need a new plan.
-Shady
Addendum: Do I feel bad for killing all those Timberwolves? In the way I did? I didn't think so, I didn't think I was even capable of feeling bad after the Initiation. But something else thinks I do, or at least, something else thinks I should.
Showing posts with label Apostle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Apostle. Show all posts
Sunday, 2 December 2012
Saturday, 1 December 2012
And then...
I was running up the stairs when a bullet rang out, hitting me in the side. The piece of lead burst its way out my front, spraying blood with it over the steps. And then...then I blacked out, and woke up here. Except the black out was without a very key part of blacking out. The blacking out.
I could still see, but I couldn't think. My brain was being pierced right through, a loud and painful screech ripping my thoughts to shreds before they could even form. I couldn't hear myself think, yet I acted. My body moved without my consent, I walked back down the stairs, even as what remained of my will tried to push myself upwards, away from the angry men with guns. But my legs continued downwards, towards the Timberwolves, my brain unable to even register the pain of the bullet wound. The Timberwolves looked surprised, but the looks quickly changed to ones of fear and then agony.
I killed them. I killed the dozen Timberwolves. I moved in ways I didn't even know a human was capable of, my motions fluidic yet forced, graceful yet mechanic, natural and at all the same rehearsed to a perfection beyond humanity. I was something more. I wrestled a rifle from one of them with ease, twisting his wrist and shattering his arm. I let out multiple shots down the stairs, sending several tumbling back, their blood dripping down the steps. The others retreated back as I advanced, one neared me and I cracked his nose in with the butt of the rifle, then sent the side of it into his head and bashed him into the wall. I moved into the chamber and shot and fought, blood splattering about the room, screams of the Timberwolves echoing through the walls as I shattered bones and ripped through flesh.
The whole ordeal lasted a mere minutes, but the twelve Timberwolves lay dead. My thoughts returned to me, and my scrambled mind quickly reformed into simple terror at what had just happened. The train Apostle and Towerborn had since fled through another passage, but THE FALLEN and the other Apostle still stood where they were before, watching me curiously as I stood, watching them. THE FALLEN was in his classic form of a young man in a gas mask. He leaned in closer to the Apostle, presumably speaking words I couldn't hear and the Apostle nodded in response.
The blue-white tendrils formed around THE FALLEN in the shape of the Twin-Triangles for a split second before both He and the Apostle disappeared. Leaving me alone in the bloodied chamber, surrounded by the mutilated bodies and red stained floor. That's when I blacked out properly, waking in my room, a bandage around the bullet wound.
Blood on my hands, very little of it mine.
-Shady
I could still see, but I couldn't think. My brain was being pierced right through, a loud and painful screech ripping my thoughts to shreds before they could even form. I couldn't hear myself think, yet I acted. My body moved without my consent, I walked back down the stairs, even as what remained of my will tried to push myself upwards, away from the angry men with guns. But my legs continued downwards, towards the Timberwolves, my brain unable to even register the pain of the bullet wound. The Timberwolves looked surprised, but the looks quickly changed to ones of fear and then agony.
I killed them. I killed the dozen Timberwolves. I moved in ways I didn't even know a human was capable of, my motions fluidic yet forced, graceful yet mechanic, natural and at all the same rehearsed to a perfection beyond humanity. I was something more. I wrestled a rifle from one of them with ease, twisting his wrist and shattering his arm. I let out multiple shots down the stairs, sending several tumbling back, their blood dripping down the steps. The others retreated back as I advanced, one neared me and I cracked his nose in with the butt of the rifle, then sent the side of it into his head and bashed him into the wall. I moved into the chamber and shot and fought, blood splattering about the room, screams of the Timberwolves echoing through the walls as I shattered bones and ripped through flesh.
The whole ordeal lasted a mere minutes, but the twelve Timberwolves lay dead. My thoughts returned to me, and my scrambled mind quickly reformed into simple terror at what had just happened. The train Apostle and Towerborn had since fled through another passage, but THE FALLEN and the other Apostle still stood where they were before, watching me curiously as I stood, watching them. THE FALLEN was in his classic form of a young man in a gas mask. He leaned in closer to the Apostle, presumably speaking words I couldn't hear and the Apostle nodded in response.
The blue-white tendrils formed around THE FALLEN in the shape of the Twin-Triangles for a split second before both He and the Apostle disappeared. Leaving me alone in the bloodied chamber, surrounded by the mutilated bodies and red stained floor. That's when I blacked out properly, waking in my room, a bandage around the bullet wound.
Blood on my hands, very little of it mine.
-Shady
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
Of Towerborn and Timberwolves
I've been quite busy lately. Tracking the Towerborn while avoiding the Timberwolves. Unsuccessfully, by the way. The Towerborn decided not to leave Rome at all, but rather head further into the city, hardly a sound tactic when that's where I am. Or maybe it's hunting me. I think I'd win, I've got the gun and the hoodie.
But it traveled further in anyway, and I decided to ambush it at a street corner. Heading out of the hotel and avoiding contact with any Timberwolves, identifiable to me thanks to my super powers, or whatever. I traversed the streets of Rome, my phone tracking the Thing's movements. I made my way to intercept the little blinking point on my screen, but it began moving the other way away from me.
I walked faster and faster to catch up with it, but it was faster than me and less hindered by the desire to not call attention to itself by running like a mad man after something no one else even knew was there. Giving up trying to look inconspicuous I began jogging, weaving in and out of busy people. Then I was running, the Towerborn still leaving me behind, until finally I sprinted, faster and faster towards the point on my phone.
It was slowing down and I was finally catching up, closing in on it. But looking at my phone I made an odd realisation, the Towerborn was entering Vatican City. Why? What business could it have in the centre of Catholicism? So I pursued it into the small city, finding a less tourist ridden access point through the surrounding wall, discreetly dealing with a security guard.
Now within the city I continued towards Blinky (the Towerborn's new name after its representation on my phone). Inside the structure, through hallways probably no tourists would see, ducking around corners and into rooms to avoid being spotted, even knocking out a priest or two. They always bored me anyway. Even after all the supernatural I've seen I probably believe in God even less. Maybe it's because I now believe in the almighty power, purity and perfection of absolute and all-devouring Nothingness. Or something else, I don't know.
I found my way down several hallways through the labyrinthine complex that is the Vatican, I never knew it was so complicated when I want there a couple years back. I didn't know how a shambling, tatter cloaked, monstrous mess of metal and flesh managed to make its way through unnoticed.
Then I found out. As I neared the blinking light I realised Blinky was now on the other side of a wall. Unfortunately, the way behind the wall wasn't at that point, meaning it could have gotten through at any point up ahead. Regardless, I continued, hoping to find some sign along the lines of "Pull lever to open secret passage". Something told me I was aiming a little high.
But that was exactly what I found. Well, maybe not exactly. I slid into a small office of sorts, an ornate desk with a chair and topped with papers at the far side and lined with books and more importantly, bookcases. Bookcases that could hide a secret passage. Already got underground bases and tracking devices, why not secret passages?
The question was: Which book? The entire place was covered in books to choose from and if I didn't want anyone to know I was there I couldn't just start yanking out every book on the shelves unless I wanted to spend ages sorting them all back in their proper places, and just wait for someone to walk in/out to find me sitting on the floor trying to figure out where to put books that start with numbers in alphabetical order.
But the answer presented itself soon after. As I was perusing the books for clues, I found one. An extremely obvious one in that matter, they might want to be more secretive if they want to keep out meddlesome Hunters like I. On the bottom of one of the books were the good old Twin-Triangles. Seems Blinky had some business with the Timberwolves. I pulled out the book and failing that poked the triangles and pushed in the book, resulting in a satisfying click that signaled my victory over their devilsome puzzle.
The case slid away to reveal a medieval looking passageway behind. Now it was turning into some Da Vinci Code or Angels and Demons type goings on. Conspiracy theorists would have a field day. Heading down the flaming sconce lined steps (yes, there were really sconces) into the deep, dark Timberwolf territory. All my travelling finally culminating in some equally conspiratorial chamber, lined with sconces and a dozen Timberwolves, Blinky and three more Timberwolves in the centre.
I figured why let an opportunity such as this go to waste and hung out out of sight, listening in.
"He is here?" asked the lead Timberwolf, an elderly man in a dark grey hoodie and dark blue jeans that didn't seem to suit him, flanked by my Apostle friend from the train and another, likely also an Apostle. The first Apostle appeared the same as from our encounter, wearing the gas mask, except for a bandaged hand which he may have gotten from Collector Epsilon. The other wore a long, hooded, black coat and black trousers, except in stead of wearing his hood he wore an old, brown fedora. He was thin and deathly pale, probably didn't grow up in Italy.
The Towerborn spoke in a metallic, screeching voice that made my ears hurt, and from the fidgeting I could tell it had the same effect on the Timberwolves except the three questioning Blinky. "Yes," it screeched from behind its cloth mask, "Shade is here."
Aw, they have a nick-name for me. Sure it's a basic derivation from my blogger name, but still.
"Excellent. If we can kill him here, The Long Game can be stopped." Wow. People really don't like my blog. "THE HUNGERING shall never find purchase here. I have spent too long preparing this place for it all to go to waste!" spoke the leader in an oddly familiar voice, but it was different, and so didn't suit his body either.
"But I feel that won't be a problem," he spoke again, raising a hand and snapping his fingers. Streams of blueish-white, sparkling light latched onto me from all sides, pushing me from my hiding place. "Here, we have Shade!" he announced, to the gasps of everyone else in the room. He pushed his hood back a bit, and I could see his face properly. It was Beta/Theta. Yes, the person(s) I killed. Yes, he was THE FALLEN.
I ran back up the steps as fast as I could, a swarm of angry Timberwolves charging after me (yes, twelve Timberwolves does constitute a swarm). Then oh god -I mean Nothingness-! Talk about timing! My bullet wound is acting up again! Yes, I got shot. Yes, I have to continue this later.
-Shady
But it traveled further in anyway, and I decided to ambush it at a street corner. Heading out of the hotel and avoiding contact with any Timberwolves, identifiable to me thanks to my super powers, or whatever. I traversed the streets of Rome, my phone tracking the Thing's movements. I made my way to intercept the little blinking point on my screen, but it began moving the other way away from me.
I walked faster and faster to catch up with it, but it was faster than me and less hindered by the desire to not call attention to itself by running like a mad man after something no one else even knew was there. Giving up trying to look inconspicuous I began jogging, weaving in and out of busy people. Then I was running, the Towerborn still leaving me behind, until finally I sprinted, faster and faster towards the point on my phone.
It was slowing down and I was finally catching up, closing in on it. But looking at my phone I made an odd realisation, the Towerborn was entering Vatican City. Why? What business could it have in the centre of Catholicism? So I pursued it into the small city, finding a less tourist ridden access point through the surrounding wall, discreetly dealing with a security guard.
Now within the city I continued towards Blinky (the Towerborn's new name after its representation on my phone). Inside the structure, through hallways probably no tourists would see, ducking around corners and into rooms to avoid being spotted, even knocking out a priest or two. They always bored me anyway. Even after all the supernatural I've seen I probably believe in God even less. Maybe it's because I now believe in the almighty power, purity and perfection of absolute and all-devouring Nothingness. Or something else, I don't know.
I found my way down several hallways through the labyrinthine complex that is the Vatican, I never knew it was so complicated when I want there a couple years back. I didn't know how a shambling, tatter cloaked, monstrous mess of metal and flesh managed to make its way through unnoticed.
Then I found out. As I neared the blinking light I realised Blinky was now on the other side of a wall. Unfortunately, the way behind the wall wasn't at that point, meaning it could have gotten through at any point up ahead. Regardless, I continued, hoping to find some sign along the lines of "Pull lever to open secret passage". Something told me I was aiming a little high.
But that was exactly what I found. Well, maybe not exactly. I slid into a small office of sorts, an ornate desk with a chair and topped with papers at the far side and lined with books and more importantly, bookcases. Bookcases that could hide a secret passage. Already got underground bases and tracking devices, why not secret passages?
The question was: Which book? The entire place was covered in books to choose from and if I didn't want anyone to know I was there I couldn't just start yanking out every book on the shelves unless I wanted to spend ages sorting them all back in their proper places, and just wait for someone to walk in/out to find me sitting on the floor trying to figure out where to put books that start with numbers in alphabetical order.
But the answer presented itself soon after. As I was perusing the books for clues, I found one. An extremely obvious one in that matter, they might want to be more secretive if they want to keep out meddlesome Hunters like I. On the bottom of one of the books were the good old Twin-Triangles. Seems Blinky had some business with the Timberwolves. I pulled out the book and failing that poked the triangles and pushed in the book, resulting in a satisfying click that signaled my victory over their devilsome puzzle.
The case slid away to reveal a medieval looking passageway behind. Now it was turning into some Da Vinci Code or Angels and Demons type goings on. Conspiracy theorists would have a field day. Heading down the flaming sconce lined steps (yes, there were really sconces) into the deep, dark Timberwolf territory. All my travelling finally culminating in some equally conspiratorial chamber, lined with sconces and a dozen Timberwolves, Blinky and three more Timberwolves in the centre.
I figured why let an opportunity such as this go to waste and hung out out of sight, listening in.
"He is here?" asked the lead Timberwolf, an elderly man in a dark grey hoodie and dark blue jeans that didn't seem to suit him, flanked by my Apostle friend from the train and another, likely also an Apostle. The first Apostle appeared the same as from our encounter, wearing the gas mask, except for a bandaged hand which he may have gotten from Collector Epsilon. The other wore a long, hooded, black coat and black trousers, except in stead of wearing his hood he wore an old, brown fedora. He was thin and deathly pale, probably didn't grow up in Italy.
The Towerborn spoke in a metallic, screeching voice that made my ears hurt, and from the fidgeting I could tell it had the same effect on the Timberwolves except the three questioning Blinky. "Yes," it screeched from behind its cloth mask, "Shade is here."
Aw, they have a nick-name for me. Sure it's a basic derivation from my blogger name, but still.
"Excellent. If we can kill him here, The Long Game can be stopped." Wow. People really don't like my blog. "THE HUNGERING shall never find purchase here. I have spent too long preparing this place for it all to go to waste!" spoke the leader in an oddly familiar voice, but it was different, and so didn't suit his body either.
"But I feel that won't be a problem," he spoke again, raising a hand and snapping his fingers. Streams of blueish-white, sparkling light latched onto me from all sides, pushing me from my hiding place. "Here, we have Shade!" he announced, to the gasps of everyone else in the room. He pushed his hood back a bit, and I could see his face properly. It was Beta/Theta. Yes, the person(s) I killed. Yes, he was THE FALLEN.
I ran back up the steps as fast as I could, a swarm of angry Timberwolves charging after me (yes, twelve Timberwolves does constitute a swarm). Then oh god -I mean Nothingness-! Talk about timing! My bullet wound is acting up again! Yes, I got shot. Yes, I have to continue this later.
-Shady
Thursday, 8 November 2012
Being Played
So I ran. It went horribly.
Just not before the note was confirmed. I lurked by the door, having lifted a gun from the armoury, holding a crowbar in hand and all my stuff in a bag, I waited in my room for who ever may or may not come. I felt Sleepy was awake too. The door clicked open as I waited behind it, a figure slid through, a knife in hand. A grey haired and heavily bearded head coming into view, it was Analyst Beta, with clearly murderous intentions. I cracked him over the head with the crowbar and he crumpled to the ground. It was confirmed, I'm screwed.
I stepped over the unconscious heap and out the door. The hallway was empty as I sprinted down, my escape completely unhindered. Until a rounded a particular corner and came face to face with Analyst Beta again, well, an identical face at least. Theta moved towards me, a gun in hand, ready to kill me if I didn't kill him first, which I did. Firing my gun at him I struck him square between the eyes, there must be something supernatural about my aim, maybe Sleepy helps.
~~I do not.~~
Well in any case Theta was now dead and I ran to the nearest exit, an emergency one that opens to a staircase up into an alley way down the street of the archive (the normal one), the Archive must stretch quite a bit under ground. My escape went better than I had expected, I wish I hadn't had to kill Theta but there wasn't anything I could do. I got the best I could have hoped for: Not having to find my way out through a veritable army of Archivists. But my luck ran out instantly.
I emerged into the alley to come face to face with Master Nowhere.
"Hello again," came his voice in my head.
"Hi," I responded, nothing I could do now, I'm screwed.
Several other figures emerged from the shadows of the alley, wearing hoodies similar to Master Nowhere, except their ones had an image on the chest, a circle with a line through it. They advanced towards me with almost comic menacing.
"You should probably come with us now, you are prepared," he said.
"Prepared? For what?" I asked, "And while your answering questions why did you send information to both the Archive and the Timberwolves?"
"I can't answer the first one, not yet. The second one however, I sent the information to the Timberwolves to protect you. Apostles are important to THE FALLEN and the other Fears can't kill one without...incurring his wrath. Thus I informed them of your presence so that they could be present on the train and the Fear would not attack it, you didn't really think it was just technical difficulties did you?" Knew it! "Then I informed the Archive of your presence on the train to ensure your survival passed the Timberwolves own attack on the train, I need you alive, for now."
"But why send me to the Archive in the first place? And who left me that letter?"
I could feel his sigh in my head. "I sent you to the Archive so that you'd find out about The Sleeper and He'd grow stronger," ~~How kind of him.~~ "He's an important part of our plan. As for the letter, that was Scribe Theta, it was left to draw you out to be captured by me without alerting the rest of the Archive, that is why the rest of the employees are currently taking part in a fire drill, the sound of which I drowned out for you with my eldritch powers. Now," he said, swinging his hand and pointing at the end of the alley, "Let's go."
The Menacing Men led by Master Nowhere led me through the streets of Paris, rendered invisible by THE HUNGERING and finally bundled me into the back of a van that could only be described as "nondescript". Driving for a couple hours we ended up at an abandoned warehouse where I was led into an enclosed room with a bed, a toilet, and an excellent internet connection.
The note did say I was being played, I just didn't know I was being played by reading it. Things are getting interesting.
-Shady
Just not before the note was confirmed. I lurked by the door, having lifted a gun from the armoury, holding a crowbar in hand and all my stuff in a bag, I waited in my room for who ever may or may not come. I felt Sleepy was awake too. The door clicked open as I waited behind it, a figure slid through, a knife in hand. A grey haired and heavily bearded head coming into view, it was Analyst Beta, with clearly murderous intentions. I cracked him over the head with the crowbar and he crumpled to the ground. It was confirmed, I'm screwed.
I stepped over the unconscious heap and out the door. The hallway was empty as I sprinted down, my escape completely unhindered. Until a rounded a particular corner and came face to face with Analyst Beta again, well, an identical face at least. Theta moved towards me, a gun in hand, ready to kill me if I didn't kill him first, which I did. Firing my gun at him I struck him square between the eyes, there must be something supernatural about my aim, maybe Sleepy helps.
~~I do not.~~
Well in any case Theta was now dead and I ran to the nearest exit, an emergency one that opens to a staircase up into an alley way down the street of the archive (the normal one), the Archive must stretch quite a bit under ground. My escape went better than I had expected, I wish I hadn't had to kill Theta but there wasn't anything I could do. I got the best I could have hoped for: Not having to find my way out through a veritable army of Archivists. But my luck ran out instantly.
I emerged into the alley to come face to face with Master Nowhere.
"Hello again," came his voice in my head.
"Hi," I responded, nothing I could do now, I'm screwed.
Several other figures emerged from the shadows of the alley, wearing hoodies similar to Master Nowhere, except their ones had an image on the chest, a circle with a line through it. They advanced towards me with almost comic menacing.
"You should probably come with us now, you are prepared," he said.
"Prepared? For what?" I asked, "And while your answering questions why did you send information to both the Archive and the Timberwolves?"
"I can't answer the first one, not yet. The second one however, I sent the information to the Timberwolves to protect you. Apostles are important to THE FALLEN and the other Fears can't kill one without...incurring his wrath. Thus I informed them of your presence so that they could be present on the train and the Fear would not attack it, you didn't really think it was just technical difficulties did you?" Knew it! "Then I informed the Archive of your presence on the train to ensure your survival passed the Timberwolves own attack on the train, I need you alive, for now."
"But why send me to the Archive in the first place? And who left me that letter?"
I could feel his sigh in my head. "I sent you to the Archive so that you'd find out about The Sleeper and He'd grow stronger," ~~How kind of him.~~ "He's an important part of our plan. As for the letter, that was Scribe Theta, it was left to draw you out to be captured by me without alerting the rest of the Archive, that is why the rest of the employees are currently taking part in a fire drill, the sound of which I drowned out for you with my eldritch powers. Now," he said, swinging his hand and pointing at the end of the alley, "Let's go."
The Menacing Men led by Master Nowhere led me through the streets of Paris, rendered invisible by THE HUNGERING and finally bundled me into the back of a van that could only be described as "nondescript". Driving for a couple hours we ended up at an abandoned warehouse where I was led into an enclosed room with a bed, a toilet, and an excellent internet connection.
The note did say I was being played, I just didn't know I was being played by reading it. Things are getting interesting.
-Shady
Wednesday, 31 October 2012
The Collectors
Train exploded. Yeah. It exploded.
The Apostle and Timberwolf boarded the same train to Paris as I was going on. It was the only train departing from that station for hours so it was to be expected. It started as uneventfully as the first one, but became much more 'eventful' mainly by the explosion of the train. The Timberwolf sitting next to the Apostle got up with his bag and left the carriage, a few moments later a large ball of fire was consuming the front of the train.
The entire thing keeled over, different carriages colliding with each other as the forward force of the train push them into one another. Fire flying everywhere. How I survived, I couldn't tell you, maybe it was my semi-existence, maybe I'm just lucky. But I managed to push my way from the rubble, fires licking at my feet. And of course the Apostle had survived as well. Except now he had his hood up and his gas mask on, his grey long-coat billowing enough to reveal a yellow Twin-Triangles emblazoned on his hoodie. An assault rifle cradled in his arms.
A piece of rubble near him moved, pushing its way off a bloodied body, who cried out for help. The Apostle turned the rifle towards them, releasing a short burst of bullets and cutting the screams short. He was making sure there was no survivors. He was probably looking for me. Scribe Theta said that the Sine Corda -and by extension myself- were hated by followers of THE FALLEN. He must have been sent to kill me, as only Apostles can see me. Make sure I was no longer a problem.
As other survivors sprinted for the safety of the treeline they too were shredded my hails of bullets. I couldn't run, but I couldn't stay here either, he was shooting corpses as he slowly walked the length of the train wreck, there would be no survivors. I crawled silently under the cover of the twisted metal, shattered glass cutting my underside. I made my way as far as I could and waited, waited for the sound of bullets that would follow as the Apostle turned his attention to someone else.
I scrambled to my feet and keeping as low and fast as I could headed for the forest, bullets whizzing around me the entire way, one connected with me and I slammed to the ground. Several more gunshots sounded, but they weren't the bursts of the assault rifle, no they were the shots of a smaller gun. Looking back from the now bloodied grass I saw the Apostle fleeing from view as a young, red-haired woman with a handgun sent bullets after him.
Satisfied that the Apostle was gone the woman ran towards me and picked me up from the ground.
"Come on." she had said as we ran from the train wreck through the forests, myself limping the whole way, the bullet hadn't struck my leg, but the wound in my back was enough to make any actions painful. Eventually coming to a road, she pulled out a radio and called for a car which arrived mere moments later, driven by a blonde man in his thirties. We piled ourselves inside and she introduced herself as Collector Epsilon of the Archive and he as Collector Upsilon, before I succumbed to unconsciousness.
I awoke later on a rough cot in a small warehouse in a small French town, where Upsilon was treating my wound. He explained it as a safe house for the Archive, as their line of work may quickly become dangerous with the increase in Timberwolf activity recently. I asked how he knew I would be there, and how the Apostle knew the same.
"Anonymous tips came in for the Archive about a sabotage of your train," chimed in Epsilon as she sat nearby, "I don't know about the Timberwolves."
Upsilon finished sowing up my back, and replaced the bandages on my arm, the wounds from THE RIPPER never did heal, but there isn't an infection. After that they left me here to get some rest. It still really hurts. Now I've got an Apostle and how many Timberwolves after me, at least now I've got a couple of Archivists helping.
-Shady
The Apostle and Timberwolf boarded the same train to Paris as I was going on. It was the only train departing from that station for hours so it was to be expected. It started as uneventfully as the first one, but became much more 'eventful' mainly by the explosion of the train. The Timberwolf sitting next to the Apostle got up with his bag and left the carriage, a few moments later a large ball of fire was consuming the front of the train.
The entire thing keeled over, different carriages colliding with each other as the forward force of the train push them into one another. Fire flying everywhere. How I survived, I couldn't tell you, maybe it was my semi-existence, maybe I'm just lucky. But I managed to push my way from the rubble, fires licking at my feet. And of course the Apostle had survived as well. Except now he had his hood up and his gas mask on, his grey long-coat billowing enough to reveal a yellow Twin-Triangles emblazoned on his hoodie. An assault rifle cradled in his arms.
A piece of rubble near him moved, pushing its way off a bloodied body, who cried out for help. The Apostle turned the rifle towards them, releasing a short burst of bullets and cutting the screams short. He was making sure there was no survivors. He was probably looking for me. Scribe Theta said that the Sine Corda -and by extension myself- were hated by followers of THE FALLEN. He must have been sent to kill me, as only Apostles can see me. Make sure I was no longer a problem.
As other survivors sprinted for the safety of the treeline they too were shredded my hails of bullets. I couldn't run, but I couldn't stay here either, he was shooting corpses as he slowly walked the length of the train wreck, there would be no survivors. I crawled silently under the cover of the twisted metal, shattered glass cutting my underside. I made my way as far as I could and waited, waited for the sound of bullets that would follow as the Apostle turned his attention to someone else.
I scrambled to my feet and keeping as low and fast as I could headed for the forest, bullets whizzing around me the entire way, one connected with me and I slammed to the ground. Several more gunshots sounded, but they weren't the bursts of the assault rifle, no they were the shots of a smaller gun. Looking back from the now bloodied grass I saw the Apostle fleeing from view as a young, red-haired woman with a handgun sent bullets after him.
Satisfied that the Apostle was gone the woman ran towards me and picked me up from the ground.
"Come on." she had said as we ran from the train wreck through the forests, myself limping the whole way, the bullet hadn't struck my leg, but the wound in my back was enough to make any actions painful. Eventually coming to a road, she pulled out a radio and called for a car which arrived mere moments later, driven by a blonde man in his thirties. We piled ourselves inside and she introduced herself as Collector Epsilon of the Archive and he as Collector Upsilon, before I succumbed to unconsciousness.
I awoke later on a rough cot in a small warehouse in a small French town, where Upsilon was treating my wound. He explained it as a safe house for the Archive, as their line of work may quickly become dangerous with the increase in Timberwolf activity recently. I asked how he knew I would be there, and how the Apostle knew the same.
"Anonymous tips came in for the Archive about a sabotage of your train," chimed in Epsilon as she sat nearby, "I don't know about the Timberwolves."
Upsilon finished sowing up my back, and replaced the bandages on my arm, the wounds from THE RIPPER never did heal, but there isn't an infection. After that they left me here to get some rest. It still really hurts. Now I've got an Apostle and how many Timberwolves after me, at least now I've got a couple of Archivists helping.
-Shady
Tuesday, 30 October 2012
And So Begins My Epic Journey
On a train.
I boarded a train that should take me about half of the way, to where I could take another train to take me to Paris. I grabbed a seat and people instinctively avoided sitting in it; I'm not completely gone, not yet. I thought the journey would go uneventfully, I was wrong.
The train sped through the dark German countryside, suddenly reminding me of the old tales of early Slendy sightings. Der Ritter and Der Großmann in early 1600's. Obviously, the Der Ritter woodcuts were fakes, but some of the legends were probably true, based on what I(we) know now.
As if on cue the train suddenly shrieked as the wheels scraped to a halt, on a hill in the middle of nowhere in the dark near a forest. Yippee! Oh, did I mention the lights went out? Everyone else appeared more annoyed than anything else, but I was being hunted by evil monsters and am much more skeptical about any unfortunate circumstances circling around me and was immediately on my feet. There wasn't exactly much I could do, even if I could talk to the head of the train, it's not like there was anything I could do to make him work faster, everyone wanted to get out of this creepy countryside.
A man came through the doors with a flashlight and several lamps and moved to the centre of the carriage and placed a lamp on a table there, then moved on to the next carriage. A voice sounded over the Tannoy system, giving its address in German, before beginning in English with a very strong German accent.
"Hello, people. This is your driver speaking. The engine system has cut. We apologise for the inconvenience, and hope to have this problem fixed as soon as is possible. Please remain calm and in your seats, food service will begin shortly to keep your minds off the scary forest outside. Thank you."
Not much I could do, so I sat back down and waited for the problem to be "fixed as soon as is possible". I felt odd, like there was something unnatural going on, I couldn't place the feeling. I could see a guy looking around with a look of angry confusion. In his late twenties, brown hair, strong build, wearing a dark grey long-coat and a black hoodie. Nothing strange about that. Not until he glanced over in my direction, not until his eyes hesitated on me. I think he could see me. He didn't stay on me though, I think he could feel my presence, like Scribe Theta said, proximity to people who have been touched by THE HUNGERING have adverse effects on Timberwolves and Apostles, who I think this guy probably was.
It was confirmed when he brushed a strand of brown hair from his face, momentarily revealing a scar in the left of his forehead, a scar in the shape of the Twin-Triangles, symbol of THE FALLEN. He was an Apostle! What he's doing on a train I had no idea, odds are there are a whole group of Timberwolves on board. I sat back, tapping my backpack which contained my gun. I have no idea what would have happened if a firefight broke out, my actions are being erased, what if I die? Is that erased too? Would I come back to life after being killed? Would the unraveling bring him back or was that a perk reserved for Master Nowhere or other members of the Sine Corda.
I didn't have to find out. In what would seem like an anti-climax the lights came back on and the train started back up, heading back off down the tracks. Which it's still doing, no Fear interference here, just normal technical difficulties, hmm! The Apostle stopped looking around and started chatting to another younger man sitting next to him. Likely a Timberwolf. I'm writing this while still on the train. We'll be reaching our destination any moment now. I don't know what to do about the Apostle or the Timberwolves. How much do you want to bet they're going to get the same train to Paris that I am?
And what the hell is an Apostle doing on a normal train in the first place?!
-Shady
I boarded a train that should take me about half of the way, to where I could take another train to take me to Paris. I grabbed a seat and people instinctively avoided sitting in it; I'm not completely gone, not yet. I thought the journey would go uneventfully, I was wrong.
The train sped through the dark German countryside, suddenly reminding me of the old tales of early Slendy sightings. Der Ritter and Der Großmann in early 1600's. Obviously, the Der Ritter woodcuts were fakes, but some of the legends were probably true, based on what I(we) know now.
As if on cue the train suddenly shrieked as the wheels scraped to a halt, on a hill in the middle of nowhere in the dark near a forest. Yippee! Oh, did I mention the lights went out? Everyone else appeared more annoyed than anything else, but I was being hunted by evil monsters and am much more skeptical about any unfortunate circumstances circling around me and was immediately on my feet. There wasn't exactly much I could do, even if I could talk to the head of the train, it's not like there was anything I could do to make him work faster, everyone wanted to get out of this creepy countryside.
A man came through the doors with a flashlight and several lamps and moved to the centre of the carriage and placed a lamp on a table there, then moved on to the next carriage. A voice sounded over the Tannoy system, giving its address in German, before beginning in English with a very strong German accent.
"Hello, people. This is your driver speaking. The engine system has cut. We apologise for the inconvenience, and hope to have this problem fixed as soon as is possible. Please remain calm and in your seats, food service will begin shortly to keep your minds off the scary forest outside. Thank you."
Not much I could do, so I sat back down and waited for the problem to be "fixed as soon as is possible". I felt odd, like there was something unnatural going on, I couldn't place the feeling. I could see a guy looking around with a look of angry confusion. In his late twenties, brown hair, strong build, wearing a dark grey long-coat and a black hoodie. Nothing strange about that. Not until he glanced over in my direction, not until his eyes hesitated on me. I think he could see me. He didn't stay on me though, I think he could feel my presence, like Scribe Theta said, proximity to people who have been touched by THE HUNGERING have adverse effects on Timberwolves and Apostles, who I think this guy probably was.
It was confirmed when he brushed a strand of brown hair from his face, momentarily revealing a scar in the left of his forehead, a scar in the shape of the Twin-Triangles, symbol of THE FALLEN. He was an Apostle! What he's doing on a train I had no idea, odds are there are a whole group of Timberwolves on board. I sat back, tapping my backpack which contained my gun. I have no idea what would have happened if a firefight broke out, my actions are being erased, what if I die? Is that erased too? Would I come back to life after being killed? Would the unraveling bring him back or was that a perk reserved for Master Nowhere or other members of the Sine Corda.
I didn't have to find out. In what would seem like an anti-climax the lights came back on and the train started back up, heading back off down the tracks. Which it's still doing, no Fear interference here, just normal technical difficulties, hmm! The Apostle stopped looking around and started chatting to another younger man sitting next to him. Likely a Timberwolf. I'm writing this while still on the train. We'll be reaching our destination any moment now. I don't know what to do about the Apostle or the Timberwolves. How much do you want to bet they're going to get the same train to Paris that I am?
And what the hell is an Apostle doing on a normal train in the first place?!
-Shady
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