[youtube]6f3j4okhb8o[/youtube]
There was screaming.
Cries of the devoted as they were hacked down, their throats filling with blood that warped their shrieks into bubbling gargles as their life flowed away.
Smoke and flames were everywhere. Hungry tongues devouring the mansion with a nightmarish ferocity. Wood crached and splinted. Sparks shot through the air and the structure groaned as smoke hung thick in every room and hall.
Through this once gilded palace of decadence and corruption, Maester Williams tore. He was covered in blood and sweat and breathing frantically, coughing as he breathed in the acrid clouds that were chocking his once enviable estate. His eyes were filled with a horrific fear as he tried to find a way free from the flames, the smoke, and the monster in metal that was slaughtering his congregation that were trying to save their savior.
Him.
Maester Wiliams threw his shoulder against a door and it exploded open. He took the stairs that now rose up before him two at a time, his black robes dancing around his feet as he sobbed out a prayer to the things that had given him power. The things he had devoted his life too. The things of the void.
He could feel them. Seething just beneath the flesh of his body. Coiling in the air around him, their glee at the madness of the purge angering him. They should be helping him. They should be stopping this, not taking joy in the slaughter of those whom had followed his teachings and agreed to help manifest these void creatures into the world.Â
The hyur felt betrayed as sweat rolled down his bearded face. The air seethed, hot and oppressive.Â
There were no more screams. Only the crackle of flames.
And then the horrible sound of iron foot falls behind him. The old man jerked his head around to stare wide eyed down the stairs as the sound of metal scraping over metal filled the air.
That monster was there!
Keys fumbled in his hands as the stairs groaned. Willaims could see only dancing embers and coils of thick smoke but knew the iron mass was coming.
The key entered the lock. It turned and Williams burst onto the roof of his estate. He took several steps from the door then turned around to peer at the door way. His anger consumed him and his eyes turned black as he forced the void things he had trapped inside his flesh to obey.
Their sinister energies screeched in his mind as they were bound by his will to obey. With a horrible ripping sound, William's right arm exploded into a mass of squirming tentacles. They danced and writhed like angered serpents as the smoke poured out from the doorway.
Slowly the clanking grew louder as Williams pointed his corrupt abomination of a limb towards the door adn snarled as a shadowed form stepped into the doorway. A glowing light seemed to be radiating from where the right eye should be of the shadowed form.
"DIE!" William shrieked as his tentacle mass shot forward, glowing a maleficent purple. Smoke rose up around the iron figure. There was suddenly a flash of gold and and swish of silver that raced out from the wall of smoke.Â
William screamed in agony as his nest of tentacles was cleaved off him at the shoulder by a whirling, silver burr.
He shrieked in pain as he clutched at his stump with his other hand. His insides felt as if he was being burned alive as something began to purge his body, devouring the shadowed manifestations of sin and horror he had let reside his his flesh for so many years.Â
Williams felt his blood seeping through his fingers as he retreated. Embers and ash danced through the air. The sound of splintering wood filled the air as an orange light bathed the world in a sinister glow.Â
"Get away from me!" the cultist barked as he gazed at the form that emerged from the wall of smoke, visible for the first time since the conflagration had begun.
It was a miqo'te but massive by the standards his species. Weirdly tall and wide as two men, the male was covered neck to toe in steel. Metal clanked as the great miqo'te sauntered forward. The winds danced in the miqo'te's white hair. A hideous scar ran down over the right side of his face and an eyepatch covered the damaged eye. The left, alabaster optic peered at the hyur as its blood drenched face twisted into an expression of contempt. A huge, double headed axe was slung on the armored back. the miqo'te's left hand held a book that glowed a tainted yellow as a silver chain whip made of razor blades and steal wire hung from his right wrist, bolted to the gauntlet.
"Get away from you?" the massive miqo'te snarled, pulling back full lips to reveal blood coated fangs as he sneered. His white hair danced around the onyx colored flesh of his face. "That's funny." The monster of a miqo'te flicked his wrist and the chain whip retracted on itself and became a short blade attached to his wrist.Â
"Tell me!" the miqo'te bounty hunter named Hojo'to Zuginoch shouted as he slammed his book shut and dropped it. The book feel a foot before it snagged on the chain that connected its spine to the belt of the iron titan. Hojo's hands pulled out his massive axe as a wild look took his one eye."How many of yourrr victims begged forrr you to get away frrrom them?"
William spat blood and began an incantation. He never finished.
Hojo aimed the butt of his axe haft at the hyur and flicked a switch. The bottom of the weapon roared as half a dozen ball bearings were sent ripping into Willaim's flesh as a powder charge in the base of the weapon ignited.
William coughed blood and went violently spinning onto the ground. Blood dripped from his lips and oozed from the wounds. He gasped and wheezed as crimson filled his ruined lungs and he tried to use his one arm to crawl away frantically.
"Please!" William begged. But not for mercy. He was beseeching the sinister things he could feel around him. They were there. Watching. Mocking. They would not help him. His pleas availed him not. "Aid me!"
"The void is fickle." Hojo spat as his iron boots stormed across the roof, shingles creaking under his feet. "But, you can prrray to them all you want." Hojo stepped up beside the man and hefted his axe high above his head.
"It's too late forrr you."
The axe head fell like the wrath of the gods made corporeal. Blood splatted as the arteries in the neck were cleaved. The head rolled, a shocked look on its face as the body shuddered in its death throes.Â
Hojo bent over and pulled off a ring from the headless cadaver and pocketed it. Â He then went over to the head, pulling out a burlap sack as he went. He slipped the axe back into its sheath on his back. The miqo'te then knelt and took William's head in his hand. He stared at the face and watched the final few moments of the head's existence before the oxygen in the brain faded and the soul and mind died. Â Hojo then took the grisly trophy and tossed it into the bag.
The head bounced around before it settled as Hojo turned and began to quickly make his way from the burning building.
***
Later, Hojo was on a road leading away from the sight of the massacre. He thought he was alone.
But something had come with him. Something dark.Â
Hojo began to sing an old sailor's shanty.
The dark thing heard the song. The dark thing recognized both song and singer.
And the lips of the severed head twisted into a wicked smile.
There was screaming.
Cries of the devoted as they were hacked down, their throats filling with blood that warped their shrieks into bubbling gargles as their life flowed away.
Smoke and flames were everywhere. Hungry tongues devouring the mansion with a nightmarish ferocity. Wood crached and splinted. Sparks shot through the air and the structure groaned as smoke hung thick in every room and hall.
Through this once gilded palace of decadence and corruption, Maester Williams tore. He was covered in blood and sweat and breathing frantically, coughing as he breathed in the acrid clouds that were chocking his once enviable estate. His eyes were filled with a horrific fear as he tried to find a way free from the flames, the smoke, and the monster in metal that was slaughtering his congregation that were trying to save their savior.
Him.
Maester Wiliams threw his shoulder against a door and it exploded open. He took the stairs that now rose up before him two at a time, his black robes dancing around his feet as he sobbed out a prayer to the things that had given him power. The things he had devoted his life too. The things of the void.
He could feel them. Seething just beneath the flesh of his body. Coiling in the air around him, their glee at the madness of the purge angering him. They should be helping him. They should be stopping this, not taking joy in the slaughter of those whom had followed his teachings and agreed to help manifest these void creatures into the world.Â
The hyur felt betrayed as sweat rolled down his bearded face. The air seethed, hot and oppressive.Â
There were no more screams. Only the crackle of flames.
And then the horrible sound of iron foot falls behind him. The old man jerked his head around to stare wide eyed down the stairs as the sound of metal scraping over metal filled the air.
That monster was there!
Keys fumbled in his hands as the stairs groaned. Willaims could see only dancing embers and coils of thick smoke but knew the iron mass was coming.
The key entered the lock. It turned and Williams burst onto the roof of his estate. He took several steps from the door then turned around to peer at the door way. His anger consumed him and his eyes turned black as he forced the void things he had trapped inside his flesh to obey.
Their sinister energies screeched in his mind as they were bound by his will to obey. With a horrible ripping sound, William's right arm exploded into a mass of squirming tentacles. They danced and writhed like angered serpents as the smoke poured out from the doorway.
Slowly the clanking grew louder as Williams pointed his corrupt abomination of a limb towards the door adn snarled as a shadowed form stepped into the doorway. A glowing light seemed to be radiating from where the right eye should be of the shadowed form.
"DIE!" William shrieked as his tentacle mass shot forward, glowing a maleficent purple. Smoke rose up around the iron figure. There was suddenly a flash of gold and and swish of silver that raced out from the wall of smoke.Â
William screamed in agony as his nest of tentacles was cleaved off him at the shoulder by a whirling, silver burr.
He shrieked in pain as he clutched at his stump with his other hand. His insides felt as if he was being burned alive as something began to purge his body, devouring the shadowed manifestations of sin and horror he had let reside his his flesh for so many years.Â
Williams felt his blood seeping through his fingers as he retreated. Embers and ash danced through the air. The sound of splintering wood filled the air as an orange light bathed the world in a sinister glow.Â
"Get away from me!" the cultist barked as he gazed at the form that emerged from the wall of smoke, visible for the first time since the conflagration had begun.
It was a miqo'te but massive by the standards his species. Weirdly tall and wide as two men, the male was covered neck to toe in steel. Metal clanked as the great miqo'te sauntered forward. The winds danced in the miqo'te's white hair. A hideous scar ran down over the right side of his face and an eyepatch covered the damaged eye. The left, alabaster optic peered at the hyur as its blood drenched face twisted into an expression of contempt. A huge, double headed axe was slung on the armored back. the miqo'te's left hand held a book that glowed a tainted yellow as a silver chain whip made of razor blades and steal wire hung from his right wrist, bolted to the gauntlet.
"Get away from you?" the massive miqo'te snarled, pulling back full lips to reveal blood coated fangs as he sneered. His white hair danced around the onyx colored flesh of his face. "That's funny." The monster of a miqo'te flicked his wrist and the chain whip retracted on itself and became a short blade attached to his wrist.Â
"Tell me!" the miqo'te bounty hunter named Hojo'to Zuginoch shouted as he slammed his book shut and dropped it. The book feel a foot before it snagged on the chain that connected its spine to the belt of the iron titan. Hojo's hands pulled out his massive axe as a wild look took his one eye."How many of yourrr victims begged forrr you to get away frrrom them?"
William spat blood and began an incantation. He never finished.
Hojo aimed the butt of his axe haft at the hyur and flicked a switch. The bottom of the weapon roared as half a dozen ball bearings were sent ripping into Willaim's flesh as a powder charge in the base of the weapon ignited.
William coughed blood and went violently spinning onto the ground. Blood dripped from his lips and oozed from the wounds. He gasped and wheezed as crimson filled his ruined lungs and he tried to use his one arm to crawl away frantically.
"Please!" William begged. But not for mercy. He was beseeching the sinister things he could feel around him. They were there. Watching. Mocking. They would not help him. His pleas availed him not. "Aid me!"
"The void is fickle." Hojo spat as his iron boots stormed across the roof, shingles creaking under his feet. "But, you can prrray to them all you want." Hojo stepped up beside the man and hefted his axe high above his head.
"It's too late forrr you."
The axe head fell like the wrath of the gods made corporeal. Blood splatted as the arteries in the neck were cleaved. The head rolled, a shocked look on its face as the body shuddered in its death throes.Â
Hojo bent over and pulled off a ring from the headless cadaver and pocketed it. Â He then went over to the head, pulling out a burlap sack as he went. He slipped the axe back into its sheath on his back. The miqo'te then knelt and took William's head in his hand. He stared at the face and watched the final few moments of the head's existence before the oxygen in the brain faded and the soul and mind died. Â Hojo then took the grisly trophy and tossed it into the bag.
The head bounced around before it settled as Hojo turned and began to quickly make his way from the burning building.
***
Later, Hojo was on a road leading away from the sight of the massacre. He thought he was alone.
But something had come with him. Something dark.Â
Hojo began to sing an old sailor's shanty.
The dark thing heard the song. The dark thing recognized both song and singer.
And the lips of the severed head twisted into a wicked smile.