FloatingFlames
Lovable Narcissist
Yeah, this is another horror one-shot by me. Be aware - there are scenes of blood and gore in this fiction. It was just a random thought that occured it me while watching a movie, and I decided to put it on paper. I'm kind of having mixed feelings about the outcome, so tell me what you think, and most of all enjoy.
A figure shrouded in a tattered cloak grimaced as he decorated the cave walls with a human face, matching the thousands of others that it joined, all staring eyeless into darkness. Scowling at them, he turned and walked deeper into his domain.
A howling wind whipped through, chilling the black cavern. The character trekked on, bones cracking under his feet with every step he took. Hundreds of corpses paved a road through the cave; bits of rotting flesh bled and filled the air with a putrid odor. The smell was hideous, but it had no effect on the strange creature.
He had grown used to his surroundings – the snapping of bones, the cracked skulls, and the faces, stained in red and plastered on the walls – he was accustomed to it. The air was as dead and rancid as the maggot-infested bodies themselves, but it was not a concern.
The figure was a walking shadow now, almost invisible in the darkness; only remnants of light flickered through the entrance to light the way. The stench was growing stronger, and the faces on the walls, there to scare away unwanted visitors, were becoming more spaced apart.
However, the faces rarely worked. Not even the cozy skeletons that were residence to the rats dissuaded them. They would come and try their hand at killing the strange being and ultimately die and become a part of the cave. The cycle never seemed to end. And he had grown tired.
The creature trudged wearily and breathed heavily. He did not know why they hunted him. He speculated at times though; it may have been for glory or fame, or just greed. Perhaps it was fear, that the beast within the cave would threaten humanity. Or maybe it was a test to the strong to see if they were truly the most capable of their kind. He did not know, nor did he think too much into it. He could never understand humans, so full of fallacies.
Whatever the reason, the beast was sick of the game. He never slept at all; he remained alert, waiting silently in his hell throughout the night and day, never closing his eyes. The figure had never felt weary, but he was now overcome with age, and it was taking its toll. He had often wondered what it was like to sleep, and what sort of dreams he would enter…
The character stopped in the darkness; the disgusting air felt thick and dirty. Several chunks of the remains of humans lay scattered about, staring into space with empty sockets. A bone snapped, the sound echoing hollowly through the dark. The figure turned around, sighed wearily, and then seemed to vanish away.
The outline of a human appeared, gun in hand, staring around through the cavern blankly. His hair and clothes were dirtied, and a scabbard hung at his waist. The man stepped forward, scanning and searching, looking for any signs of movement with an intent gaze.
The creature crept across the ceiling. A long tail slithered out the back of his cloak and began to dance in the air. The eyes of the hunter caught the movement, and they flickered up to the ceiling, only to find nothing.
Suddenly, the stranger’s body jerked around madly and began to levitate in the air. A dark, cloaked figure stood behind him in the shadows, an arm extended menacingly. He flung his hand forward, and the floating man was forcefully tossed against the wall.
The man struggled to his feet. He looked around fearfully through the dark, caught a sign of movement, and fired the pistol wildly in every direction.
The cavern was quiet. A strange voice appeared in the intruder’s mind.
“You’re all the same. It almost seems as if you are intent on shaming yourselves. May you rest peacefully with your brothers.”
The man’s eyes shot around the cave, filled deeply with fear. He scrambled around, firing off shots in every direction, when suddenly he simply stopped. His body froze up and the gun fell to the floor with a clamor.
Thin lines of blood in a crossed pattern, almost like a checkerboard, began to seep through the skin all over his body as if thin, razor-sharp wires were being pressed tightly against him. The hunter’s blood leaked quickly and a large puddle of red formed on the crumbling, rocky ground. It was apparent that the victim was trying to scream, but only mangled, choked cries escaped. Limbs flailed around wildly trying to escape the pain, but it wasn’t long before his body went limp and collapsed on the surface.
The dark, shadowed character lowered his hand.
“Let me sleep,” he whispered through the air. He glanced at the mutilated mess on the ground with exhaustion in his eyes, turned, and continued tiredly towards the back of the cavern.
His mind wandered carelessly as he shuffled forward, his eyes drooping. Visions of what lay in dreams filled his head, images of peace and tranquility – a place untouched. He smiled. Time passed as carelessly as his thoughts, drifting on as mindlessly as he was.
A massive, rocky wall hindered any further movement. With a heavy sigh, the creature sat down at the base of the wall and gazed around. There were almost no human remnants here, and the air was much cleaner than what he was used too. He had rarely been this deep in the cavern. It was almost as if he was at the center of the Earth. The figure, who was cloaked in the very darkness that surrounded him, breathed softly.
Mewtwo closed his eyes. Perhaps he would pass on to a new hell, one much like his own.
But he knew that whatever it was, he would find sleep undisturbed in the next world.
Darkness Slumbers
A figure shrouded in a tattered cloak grimaced as he decorated the cave walls with a human face, matching the thousands of others that it joined, all staring eyeless into darkness. Scowling at them, he turned and walked deeper into his domain.
A howling wind whipped through, chilling the black cavern. The character trekked on, bones cracking under his feet with every step he took. Hundreds of corpses paved a road through the cave; bits of rotting flesh bled and filled the air with a putrid odor. The smell was hideous, but it had no effect on the strange creature.
He had grown used to his surroundings – the snapping of bones, the cracked skulls, and the faces, stained in red and plastered on the walls – he was accustomed to it. The air was as dead and rancid as the maggot-infested bodies themselves, but it was not a concern.
The figure was a walking shadow now, almost invisible in the darkness; only remnants of light flickered through the entrance to light the way. The stench was growing stronger, and the faces on the walls, there to scare away unwanted visitors, were becoming more spaced apart.
However, the faces rarely worked. Not even the cozy skeletons that were residence to the rats dissuaded them. They would come and try their hand at killing the strange being and ultimately die and become a part of the cave. The cycle never seemed to end. And he had grown tired.
The creature trudged wearily and breathed heavily. He did not know why they hunted him. He speculated at times though; it may have been for glory or fame, or just greed. Perhaps it was fear, that the beast within the cave would threaten humanity. Or maybe it was a test to the strong to see if they were truly the most capable of their kind. He did not know, nor did he think too much into it. He could never understand humans, so full of fallacies.
Whatever the reason, the beast was sick of the game. He never slept at all; he remained alert, waiting silently in his hell throughout the night and day, never closing his eyes. The figure had never felt weary, but he was now overcome with age, and it was taking its toll. He had often wondered what it was like to sleep, and what sort of dreams he would enter…
The character stopped in the darkness; the disgusting air felt thick and dirty. Several chunks of the remains of humans lay scattered about, staring into space with empty sockets. A bone snapped, the sound echoing hollowly through the dark. The figure turned around, sighed wearily, and then seemed to vanish away.
The outline of a human appeared, gun in hand, staring around through the cavern blankly. His hair and clothes were dirtied, and a scabbard hung at his waist. The man stepped forward, scanning and searching, looking for any signs of movement with an intent gaze.
The creature crept across the ceiling. A long tail slithered out the back of his cloak and began to dance in the air. The eyes of the hunter caught the movement, and they flickered up to the ceiling, only to find nothing.
Suddenly, the stranger’s body jerked around madly and began to levitate in the air. A dark, cloaked figure stood behind him in the shadows, an arm extended menacingly. He flung his hand forward, and the floating man was forcefully tossed against the wall.
The man struggled to his feet. He looked around fearfully through the dark, caught a sign of movement, and fired the pistol wildly in every direction.
The cavern was quiet. A strange voice appeared in the intruder’s mind.
“You’re all the same. It almost seems as if you are intent on shaming yourselves. May you rest peacefully with your brothers.”
The man’s eyes shot around the cave, filled deeply with fear. He scrambled around, firing off shots in every direction, when suddenly he simply stopped. His body froze up and the gun fell to the floor with a clamor.
Thin lines of blood in a crossed pattern, almost like a checkerboard, began to seep through the skin all over his body as if thin, razor-sharp wires were being pressed tightly against him. The hunter’s blood leaked quickly and a large puddle of red formed on the crumbling, rocky ground. It was apparent that the victim was trying to scream, but only mangled, choked cries escaped. Limbs flailed around wildly trying to escape the pain, but it wasn’t long before his body went limp and collapsed on the surface.
The dark, shadowed character lowered his hand.
“Let me sleep,” he whispered through the air. He glanced at the mutilated mess on the ground with exhaustion in his eyes, turned, and continued tiredly towards the back of the cavern.
His mind wandered carelessly as he shuffled forward, his eyes drooping. Visions of what lay in dreams filled his head, images of peace and tranquility – a place untouched. He smiled. Time passed as carelessly as his thoughts, drifting on as mindlessly as he was.
A massive, rocky wall hindered any further movement. With a heavy sigh, the creature sat down at the base of the wall and gazed around. There were almost no human remnants here, and the air was much cleaner than what he was used too. He had rarely been this deep in the cavern. It was almost as if he was at the center of the Earth. The figure, who was cloaked in the very darkness that surrounded him, breathed softly.
Mewtwo closed his eyes. Perhaps he would pass on to a new hell, one much like his own.
But he knew that whatever it was, he would find sleep undisturbed in the next world.
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