Dark Nights

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You have spent your entire life in a quiet little town living in squalor. You were abandoned as a baby, found on the streets by a man you refuse to call your father. A belligerent drunkard that offered no love and no support. Once you were old enough to look after yourself, you ran away, finding that it wasn't as difficult as you had imagined to survive on your own. You've managed to survive this long in the dangerous streets by relying solely on your instincts. Furthermore, you have some sort of innate ability to set things on fire, but you're not completely sure how it works.  
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You have spent your entire life in a quiet little town living in squalor. You were abandoned as a baby, found on the streets by a man you refuse to call your father. A belligerent drunkard that offered no love and no support. Once you were old enough to look after yourself, you ran away, finding that it wasn't as difficult as you had imagined to survive on your own. You've managed to survive this long in the dangerous streets by relying solely on your instincts. Furthermore, you have unexplained, unnatural abilities, which you aren't quite sure how to use.  
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One serene, moonless evening you’re out alone, looking for a place to rest after a day of scavenging, when you hear the creaking of wheels, a wagon slowly pulls up behind you. “That’s the one.” A voice cuts through the eerie silence.  You turn around just in time to be greeted by a metal object that nearly leaves a dent in your forehead. You are tangled in a web of darkness.
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As you lay to rest on your cloak, you begin to hear whispers, they're faint at first, and then they gradually raise in volume, unintelligible, incoherent voices bouncing around your skull. And suddenly, you feel as though you're being watched. As quickly as they came, they leave. Despite this unusual occurance you can't help but close your eyes and sleep. It's been a long day.  
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You groggily open your eyes hours later in darkness. You try to rise into a seating position but your wrists appear to be stuck to the bed. Your entire torso has been restrained by a leathery material. Silently, a silhouette opens the door to your left, shuffling into the room holding a candle and a cup. “You are awake?” He inquires. You would verbally respond, but it appears that your throat is parched, and so you stare blankly at the ceiling.  
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You jolt awake as a boot savagely thumps your ribcage. You cry out, your eyes darting up to see a tall, two fancily robed men towering over you. The man to your left says, "it's him! The aura is faint, but it is there all the same." Right replies quietly, "you better be right, Brother. Frood forbid we repeat what happened last time." Then he bends to grab you with two hands, one on your throat and pins you against the wall. "Make it quick." Left withdraws his long, curved dagger. "Of course." You claw and pry  at the hands that hold you, but to no avail, he tightens his grip and your peripheral vision begins to fade. You can only watch as the other man raises the blade and stab you in the heart. You squeeze your eyes shut, anticipating it.  
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The robed figure approaches you, and with his old, pale veiny hands he puts the cup to your mouth. “Drink.” The man commands, and you comply eagerly, draining the container in seconds. As you swallow the last of it, you contemplate the fact that the liquid leaves a rather bitter taste on your tongue, and you wonder whether drinking it was wise.  
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Suddenly, the pressure on your neck disappears, you fall to the ground onto your knees grasping your neck as you gasp for air. A fog begins to seep into the alleyway.
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You didn't know it possible until now, but you can feel a presence, a powerful entity. Your hairs stand on end and you feel the need to run from it. You look at the remains of the two men that tried to kill you, they've been cut into pieces, guts spilling everywhere, blood leaking to and into your malnourished legs. You look away, close your eyes and slow your breathing, panicking won't solve anything. Not here, not now.
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Appearing behind them a hooded figure stands engulfed in the fog. It's making strange motions with its hands, you can't help but stare, you watch as the hands stop, and at that moment an explosion occurs directly behind you, causing the ground you kneel upon to violently shake. The being makes a pushing motion with its hand and almost instantly, you are thrown backwards. You expect an impact with the wall, but instead you land with a thump on cold, damp grass. The air you have only just regained escapes your lungs and you wheeze weakly. You stare up at the stairs, wondering if you're dreaming. Moments pass before you come to the conclusion that you are not.
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You push yourself onto your feet, but you feel a wave of vertigo, you stagger over to the nearest tree and press your weight against it, waiting for the nausea and dizziness to pass. You look down and feel relief as the earth gradually begins to stop swaying.
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You are more confused than you've ever felt. Where are you? What happened? You raise your head to see a building standing amongst the woodland. The exterior is lit by candles and decorated with flowers. You bumble your way towards it.  
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You give the old man a curious glance. “I just want you to know that what you are doing, is very brave.” Suddenly, you feel a wave of both fatigue and nausea. You command your mouth and vocal chords to communicate, but nothing comes out. Your eyelids begin to close, and you lose consciousness.
 
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You awaken again hours later to the sight of a vibrant blue sky and white clouds and an incandescent sun that won't relent in burning the eyes out of your skull. You squint, trying to ignore how much it stings. You’re surrounded by robed men, women and children, laying on a stone block in the middle of a field. Your back aches, and your head aches even more. The people seem to be muttering things under their breaths, strange things, with tightly closed eyes. “Hello?” You ask, beginning to fear for your safety. Nobody responds or seems to hear your inquiry, in fact, you don’t even think they can hear each other. One of them begins to mutter louder, as he steps closer and draws a knife from one of the many pockets on his robes.
 
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“E-Excuse me.” You say slightly louder this time. You try to rise but both your arms seem to be tightly secured to something. The man raises his knife as if ready to plunge it into your chest, filled with a primal fear, you feel your pulse begin to race, your heart pounding in your chest. you begin to struggle, pulling against the ropes that bind you. 
 
*[[Continue- |Continue]]
*[[Continue- |Continue]]
[[Category:Dark Nights]]
[[Category:Dark Nights]]

Current revision as of 20:19, 30 November 2017

You have spent your entire life in a quiet little town living in squalor. You were abandoned as a baby, found on the streets by a man you refuse to call your father. A belligerent drunkard that offered no love and no support. Once you were old enough to look after yourself, you ran away, finding that it wasn't as difficult as you had imagined to survive on your own. You've managed to survive this long in the dangerous streets by relying solely on your instincts. Furthermore, you have unexplained, unnatural abilities, which you aren't quite sure how to use.

As you lay to rest on your cloak, you begin to hear whispers, they're faint at first, and then they gradually raise in volume, unintelligible, incoherent voices bouncing around your skull. And suddenly, you feel as though you're being watched. As quickly as they came, they leave. Despite this unusual occurance you can't help but close your eyes and sleep. It's been a long day.

You jolt awake as a boot savagely thumps your ribcage. You cry out, your eyes darting up to see a tall, two fancily robed men towering over you. The man to your left says, "it's him! The aura is faint, but it is there all the same." Right replies quietly, "you better be right, Brother. Frood forbid we repeat what happened last time." Then he bends to grab you with two hands, one on your throat and pins you against the wall. "Make it quick." Left withdraws his long, curved dagger. "Of course." You claw and pry at the hands that hold you, but to no avail, he tightens his grip and your peripheral vision begins to fade. You can only watch as the other man raises the blade and stab you in the heart. You squeeze your eyes shut, anticipating it.

Suddenly, the pressure on your neck disappears, you fall to the ground onto your knees grasping your neck as you gasp for air. A fog begins to seep into the alleyway.

You didn't know it possible until now, but you can feel a presence, a powerful entity. Your hairs stand on end and you feel the need to run from it. You look at the remains of the two men that tried to kill you, they've been cut into pieces, guts spilling everywhere, blood leaking to and into your malnourished legs. You look away, close your eyes and slow your breathing, panicking won't solve anything. Not here, not now.

Appearing behind them a hooded figure stands engulfed in the fog. It's making strange motions with its hands, you can't help but stare, you watch as the hands stop, and at that moment an explosion occurs directly behind you, causing the ground you kneel upon to violently shake. The being makes a pushing motion with its hand and almost instantly, you are thrown backwards. You expect an impact with the wall, but instead you land with a thump on cold, damp grass. The air you have only just regained escapes your lungs and you wheeze weakly. You stare up at the stairs, wondering if you're dreaming. Moments pass before you come to the conclusion that you are not.

You push yourself onto your feet, but you feel a wave of vertigo, you stagger over to the nearest tree and press your weight against it, waiting for the nausea and dizziness to pass. You look down and feel relief as the earth gradually begins to stop swaying.

You are more confused than you've ever felt. Where are you? What happened? You raise your head to see a building standing amongst the woodland. The exterior is lit by candles and decorated with flowers. You bumble your way towards it.



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