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Post by Darren Gallion on Aug 22, 2007 19:34:55 GMT -5
If only it were so simple,
to cruise through life smelling roses;
but the obstacles blacken the countryside,
and we unwittingly crush them beneath our boots.
Dreams sustain us through the madness;
goals give a finish line to our race.
Yet they change with every turn, around every wall,
and remain elusive throughout the quest.
Mistakes are made, and regrets are our luggage;
we will drag them with us to slow us down.
The victories are flashes of light, sudden and unlasting, which allow us
to glimpse the road ahead before darkness descends.
Love is bitter, yet it is the bread that keeps us.
Over and over it fills us up, only to starve us.
The people whom we love shape our destinies and our strengths,
yet leave us cold and alone in the darkness.
There are others trying to race to the end;
occasionally, we bump into one or two.
The bonds we form help us down the path less lonely
but eventually, we lose each other in the darkness.
Alone is not a bad way to be;
it clears your head and focuses you on the journey.
Cherish the short intervals during the quest you have with others,
but be prepared to walk alone in the darkness.
Hmm...why did Romania pose such strange thoughts in his mind that he had never seen before? Maybe it was those thoughts of every single victim who tragically fell to his curse. For every life he tried to save, it was as if a dozen more died in the wake. That spider mark on his back...the source of all of that trouble, all of that sorrow. Sometimes, he just wished he wasn't what he was, a Nephilim demon cursed to walk the planet that wasn't his own. He was from Hell, and a lonely place at that. The blood red trenchcoat echoed in the dark street corners. There was nothing to do, there weren't even any vampires in sight, harming any humans.
It was such a lonely night.
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Post by Madax Vodrex on Sept 3, 2007 11:32:16 GMT -5
A few miles off, a trio of vampires run throughout the forests of Romania, fleeing from a powerful creature. Back when there were five of them, they were caught feeding on a nursery of newborn babies, and earned the wrath of a creature who stopped them. The first of the five was killed quickly when his head was punched clean from his shoulders by the demon in human form. Another vampire went to attack in vengeance, but was quickly set ablaze by the demon. After running for a couple of hours, they had felt that they lost the creature. All three vampires panted heavily as they looked back to see if they were followed by the winged beast, but could not look past the fog of night. One of the vampires wore a denim jacket, with shaggy hair, and leather biker pants with a ripped black shirt. Another vampire wore just a black tank top and still in his dress pants that he was buried in at his funeral. The last one wore traditional Dracula-like clothing, mocking the Romanian vampire.
“What the hell kind of demon was that?” One vampire asked, “No creature should be that powerful, besides a Slayer.”
“Is it possible that he could be…half Slayer, half demon?” Another vampire asked.
“It couldn’t be…” Spoke the final one in his Dracula outfit, “unless he was an old…” before he could finish, the vampire fell to dust from a stray wooden stick going through his heart. From the forest emerged Madax. The vampires each went vamp face and charged for the Old One. As one went to punch, and the other went to kick, Madax grabbed both an arm and a leg, and threw them both against two trees, breaking the trees in half, and throwing both down on the broken trees, dusting them instantly. Madax looked around, noticing that he had killed, and avenged the vampires near him. As he began to shift into a human form, were anyone to come around, he looked around. The crisp moon illuminated the night, and made the forest glow in a florescent light around him. Long ago, this whole area would have been a wasteland, and the grounds would have been bathed in blood. The crystal clear lake, a few yards away, would have been a lake filled with blood…literally. Amazing how a hell-on-earth could turn into this.
Madax took in a deep sigh, and wondered about things. What he was, how he could feel such humanity, and how he was in so much remorse that he felt he should atone every day, and never need to sleep, or rest like the humans. He observed them everyday, and pondered about the…emotions, about their ways of though. How could such creatures fall prey to love, hope, good, and evil. In Madax’s time, evil was all there ever was. He was above it, and he bathed in it with complete ecstasy. Now, he was all that was left of a mighty fallen race, and he had to awake into a world where he felt remorse for his deeds of evil, and where he must repay for them daily. Madax sighed a bit, crossing his arms. The night was cool, and his breath could be seen in the air, reminding him of the times of his demon days where he could breath out the mists of smog, vapor blood, and fire. Good times in his mind that were now times of pity and remorse. Madax had long since shifted back into his human form, a form consisting of black, baggy pants, combat boots, a black shirt, and a leather jacket, but as he looked at himself, he knew that he always took on the form of his shell. He wondered why he could not just simply turn into something different, and yet he always resorted to this form. Perhaps it was the will of the spirit within. As he looked around, he heard noise. He stood up, finally speaking.
“Hello?” He asked.
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Post by Darren Gallion on Sept 9, 2007 16:41:41 GMT -5
Hmm...now the air felt different for him. It seemed that there was trouble in the area, but it was a good thing that it was finished befre he went to observe. From the way it felt, a good number of vampires, killed to dust. That brought a hidden smile to his face, not only that they were dead, but it was done by someone non-human, or the closest to nonhuman one could get. The torn trenchcoat rippled through the dark place, without any sign of conservative prowess, almost like a blood red target.
Now that he thought about it, had he always been a target? It was so strange to feel like that, even for a strong demon such as himself. Maybe he just exaggerated the coincidental cases around him, people dying in his wake of helping the same people. Tingling - he could feel that within that spider on his back, resonating a sense of pain and at the same time, numbness. A soft sigh escaped his throat, knowing full well what that meant. With the slightest sense of decorum and silence, a ball of fire erupted from the palm of his right hand, resembling a star figure.
As he stood there motionless, a pair of vampires dropped down from what appeared to be out of nowhere. Just as they jumped down to the icy ground, the flame took on its zenith in temperature, and the Nephilim demon turned toward the one closest to him, the flame exerting its influence and brung the vampire alive. All that was left was the smoky, extended arm of the demon and a pile of ashes and debris. The other vampire was speechless, but that did not stop Darren from conjuring up another fiery ball and killing him also.
Great, now the only company he had for the listless night was a pair of ill-fated vampires that were now nothing more than grey dust. Good thing he was always alone, made him easier to do things without the consent of others. And in the end, alone was not a bad thing to be.
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Post by wowposter on Sept 10, 2008 2:14:20 GMT -5
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