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Regret [PG15+]

Discussion in 'Non-Pokémon Stories' started by Yonowaru in Chaos, Jun 13, 2009.

  1. Yonowaru in Chaos

    Yonowaru in Chaos gaspard de la nuit

    Before one goes on, this is a fic based upon Castlevania: Order of Ecclesia. I'm still wondering whether this should stay as a one-shot or not, but in the event that this becomes a chaptered fic, I'll just let this thing be a prologue-y...thing that has its own different title in case I do make developments on this.

    And yeah, I was on crack while writing this. If anyone sees fit to suggest edits/closure/deletion, then feel free to suggest so. I know there's a bit of an awkward choppy bit in there, so I need advice on how to correct it/the whole thing.




    Vanishing

    Where do you take me?


    Away! Your comfort is your danger, and I am your salvation.


    I am being taken away...


    Your heart has not known true danger.


    But where?


    You need to get out of here.


    I need to stay...


    There isn’t a choice. Your comfort is your danger.


    My purpose...lies here.


    Your purpose takes you away.


    No...my Master needs me.


    Lament later. I shall take you away.


    I can’t...I am his only chance.


    Forget him. Discard them all, before it’s too late!


    It’s too late...


    No! Don’t go towards the light!


    The light...


    You will regret your decision! The light is a fallacy!


    I need the light...


    The light is your darkness!


    Banish the darkness...


    Forget your master!


    Only with the help of my Master, can I banish the darkness.


    True light lies elsewhere! I shall take you there.


    No...my Master needs me...my Lord! The light...


    Come.


    Stop...


    There are those that need you.


    My Master...


    Shun the Lord!


    My Master...my Lord.


    Follow me.


    No.


    Follow me.


    My Master...my Lord.


    Shun Dominus!


    My Master...


    Albus needs you!


    Stop...


    Come.


    No...Barlowe needs me...Dominus! The light...


    True light lies elsewhere! I shall take you there.


    Only with the help of my Master, can I banish Dracula!


    Forget your master!


    Banish the darkness...banish Dracula.


    The light is your darkness!


    I need the light...


    You will regret your decision! The light is a fallacy!


    The light...


    No! Don’t go towards the light!


    It’s too late...


    Forget Barlowe. Discard them all, before it’s too late!


    I can’t...I am Barlowe’s only chance.


    Lament later. I shall take you away.


    No...don’t...Barlowe needs me.


    Your purpose takes you away.


    My purpose...lies here.


    There isn’t a choice. Your comfort is your danger.


    I need to stay...


    You need to get out of here.


    But where?


    Your heart has not known true danger.


    I am being taken away...


    Away! Your comfort is your danger, and I am your salvation.


    Where do you take me?







    ...vanishing







    .​

     
    Last edited: Sep 21, 2009
  2. Dubbi

    Dubbi Member

    I must say that was really good, it was pretty mysterious and I find this story to be interesting, keep up the good work! :)
     
  3. Yonowaru in Chaos

    Yonowaru in Chaos gaspard de la nuit

    Yay an update.

    Well at least I haven't forgotten about this thread >_>




    Heroic Dawning

    Daybreak.

    The watery sun finally rid of its earthly bind, its radiance flooded the land with a gentle morning glow. While the cursed wounds of prior nights were still visible and undoubtedly present, the scarred countryside bore a mark of optimism – a mark that Shanoa was so willing to give her life for.

    Even so freshly released from the bonds of Dracula’s curse, the daybreak became Shanoa’s beacon of hope – hope that she would be able to live a normal life after the completion of the task she was raised from a very little age to accomplish. Memories only recently returned to her, Shanoa was faced with starting a whole new life in the aftermath of a storm all by herself.

    So much had happened to her in the expanse of a few days, that her first peaceful moments were spent reflecting on whether or not it was just a bad dream.

    “They used Dracula, Shanoa. Dominus is made from his remains. That’s HIS power. Nothing less.”

    Shanoa, if you ever trusted me, then hear me: mankind needs you…NEEDS YOUR LIFE!”

    “Shanoa, there’s no need for you to die. Dominus requires but a single soul.”

    No…!

    Before her mind could be cleared though, Shanoa was struck with a horrible fatigue. She stumbled and fell onto the forest floor, where one arm stopped her from fully collapsing while the other held up her aching head. She was tired – very tired; her elbows could not withstand her own weight and she felt a strong urge to fall asleep…

    Never mind the monsters out in the forest…perhaps they’ll grant you the lonely death you were destined for…

    She drifted into a deep sleep, where random images appeared before her…Dracula’s blood ruby eyes behind a torn curtain of silky hair…Barlowe’s frayed, murderous sneer which spoke of nothing but insanity…Albus’ handsome face…his ethereal, fading smile…Abram’s odd, somewhat obsessive grin…

    Suddenly, Shanoa was pulled from her dreary depths, drifting lightly into a shallow doze, gradually becoming aware of the blue, milky liquid slowly being fed into her mouth. She recognised it as a health potion...a Super Potion no less. It immediately reminded her of Abram, who had sent Shanoa on an errand to fetch ingredients to make the potion. He had deliberately overpriced the potion, so that Shanoa did not injure herself on purpose just to use it, concluding in his exaggerated tone: “And whenever you take medicines, think of me. THINK OF ME!!”

    Reminiscing back to Abram was quite awkward, now that Shanoa’s emotions had been returned to her. It was hard to stop thinking about Abram, now; the conversations she had had with Abram left an uncomfortable feeling the moment she brought them back from her emotionless memories.

    As the potion pulled Shanoa out of her reminiscence, she felt her temples ache – not a piercing pain, but one that pushed deep into her head, before breaking free and taking away her fatigue.

    Shanoa opened her eyes slowly as the potion brought her to a state of still-waking sleep...and was met with the same obsessive grin that dominated her montage. Shanoa quickly dilated her eyes in a slight shock, more so when she realised that Abram’s arm was wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground where she had collapsed. She spluttered while she swallowed the last mouthful of potion and choked.

    Shanoa released herself from Abram’s grip to resolve her coughs and splutters on the forest floor while Abram looked on worriedly.

    “Are you all right?” Abram asked with his characteristically dim tone.

    “I’m fine,” Shanoa replied as she got herself back up onto her feet, brushing off dirt and leaves off her thin and torn navy skirt.

    Shanoa thought she caught Abram glimpsing at her revealed thigh, but Abram quickly darted his gaze back at Shanoa’s face, which had the slight look of contemptuous doubt.

    “Yes?” Shanoa interjected. Her voice was marked with a tone of respect and sincerity – an accent that had been nurtured by Shanoa’s unwavering devotion to her dead master – but her interjection bore a slightly cold tone.

    “Did you think of me?” Abram asked, as if unperturbed by Shanoa’s intimidating tone.

    “What?”

    “When you took the potion, did you think of me?”

    “Oh...”

    Shanoa was caught unawares by the question. The real answer was ‘yes’, but Shanoa did not want Abram to misunderstand her gesture.

    Feeling that honesty was probably for the better, she answered, “Yes. I did.”

    Abram’s grin was still plastered on his face, as if he was eager to know more.

    “I mean...only because you told me to, and...” Shanoa added quickly, but she was at a loss for words.

    “Can you walk?” Abram asked, as if ignoring Shanoa’s intended inference.

    Shanoa knew it was futile conveying sense to Abram, but she was equally, if not more so, glad that the subject was changed.

    Composing herself, she replied, “Yes I can. I’m a little bit tired, but I should be fine.”

    “Are you going back to the village?”

    “I may. I have a few people to make a visit to before I leave for an indefinite period of time.”

    “But, but...I thought you were going to stay with us!”

    “What?”

    “Everyone’s missed you...we owe so much to you!! You saved all of us and...all those things we got you to do...we never got to repay you!!”

    Shanoa felt a tinge of guilt at Abram’s determination, as if he was actually the manifestation of a unanimous opinion held by Wygol Village.

    “There’s no need,” Shanoa replied. She was sure not to be trapped by Abram’s questions again.

    “Of course we have to repay you!! You’ve done so much!!”

    “I’m sorry. I’ll stay at the village for a while before I say goodbye.”

    “No!!!!!” shouted Abram. Shanoa was a bit threatened by this, but she knew that it was part of his usual overenthusiastic temperament.

    “You can’t leave us!!! You don’t know how much you mean to us!!”

    “I am very sorry, Abram, but-”

    “You don’t know how much you mean to meeee!!!”

    “Abram-”

    “Can’t you feel the vibes...I mean...I want you to bring me medicinal herbs forever...you know...and I’ll make them for you...and I can admire you from a nice, safe distance...and...”

    It was getting a bit too much for Shanoa, who had never really dealt with something so simple yet so hostile at the same time. She had admirers before, but none came as crudely wrought and ingenuous as Abram – a villager of lowly status no less. At last, Shanoa brought herself to interrupt.

    “Sir,” (she refrained from referring to Abram by his name) “I am aware that you have become increasingly erratic since that...‘incident’, but I urge you to compose yourself. You don’t need to thank me; I have my own reasons for returning to the village.”

    “But...will you stay?”

    “I don’t know.”

    “Where will you be going afterwards?”

    “I have yet to decide.”

    “Then stay with meeee! I mean...with us. You know...Miss Laura says thirteen’s an unlucky number and if you’ll stay in Wygol, then that’d make fourteen and...”

    “There’s no need to convince me. I’ll make a decision in due time.”

    “Really?! So you’re staying with us?”

    “I-”

    Realising that she had been evading Abram’s question all along, she broke off mid-sentence. Why couldn’t she refuse his words? She couldn’t stand living in the aftermath of Ecclesia; already the memories, though recent, were beginning to haunt her. It wasn’t difficult to haunt a tortured, empty soul who had lost everything and gained virtually nothing, and staying in the midst of her memories did little to stop it.

    “Yeah?”

    “I’ll need to rethink my decision.”

    “So you’re going back to the village?”

    “For the meantime. I’ll see fit to leave when I have adequately recovered.”

    “You will?! That means so MUCH to me!”

    And grudgingly, as if she had signed a pact with the Devil, Shanoa set forth along the forest path, with Abram silencing the morning birds as he burst into jolly song.








    .​
     
    Last edited: Sep 21, 2009

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