The Messenger
The Messenger belongs to the following groups:
Graphic Scratch and Short stories - Spherical ScriptingsAwakening …
Warm cocooning flesh, pulsing gently, rhythmically.
He opens his eyes, enveloping crimson. Slit breaking open from top down, hellish ruby illumination boiling inside, brings screams and shrieks of the wretched and tormented. He emerges from the shell, confusion creating a whirlwind in his mind, ventures out into this new world.
Throbbing, from all sides of this heaving passage – creatures encased in these glowing walls wail their misery with all their effort, but no one is listening, no one cares for their suffering.
But he listens, he cares. He approaches one of these pitiful, agonized beings and lays a soothing hand upon its mutilated skin, patting tenderly. Something gleams within those vacant orbs, flames dance with growing intensity. Dead eyes seek him with unnerving focus. Croaks through lacerated throat and mangled lips, a single word: “Malachi.” Its eyes slowly close, peace suffuses its woeful features, lapsing into silent tranquility.
Soft scattered susurration: “Malachi.”
From everywhere, whispering, growing gradually into a chorus of hope, descant of desperation. He walks among the dying, feeling their pain as his own, and brought them release from their distress. Shattered arms reach out to him, stretching with newfound determination, reaffirmed faith. Bestowing peace upon the multitude of anguished petitioners, their endless ordeal over.
Denizens of this unearthly realm, distracted from their gruesome feasting upon the quivering scarlet walls, scuttle towards him, frightening quickness. Surround him menacingly, mandibles snapping with hunger.
Aflame with righteous wrath, he strikes back at these torturers, these beasts that feed upon other’s grief. Amethyst ichor explodes from violet carapace. The twitching, shrivelled corpse shows a different kind of peace received from his hands.
Soon these twisted abominations have found something more deadly than them. Throwing their lives pointlessly away to slow his methodical mission of mercy, these violent marauders continue to harass him but he is inexorable, he shall not be denied! Ebon radiance meets magenta malevolence and he vanquishes the hordes, swats them aside like hovering pests, leaves their crushed and broken carcasses in his wake.
He gives peace to all, one way or another. His sable form drenched in perspiration and dripping lilac fluid, onyx crusader exhausted. Slumps back against trembling walls, once angry carmine fading to sublime rose.
A mighty rumbling erupts, reverberating this forbidding otherworld, jolting him from his lassitude. All around came a thundering of a thousand voices chanting in harmony; “MALACHI!”
Bathed within a tsunami of sound, he feels a renewed, intensified quake, arising flesh slowly revealing jade phosphorescence. A vast, scintillating jewel emerges from the throbbing plinth, shining coruscating emerald.
Witnessing this scene brings a memory within him to surface, he knows that this marvellous gem represents something of infinite value, something so precious, more precious than life itself.
Shaking with awe, he carefully raises it from its resting place. As soon as his jet skin makes contact with this glittering stone, he knows far too much, shuts his eyes to block the lore channelling into him, but to no avail. Soft tears seep slowly from his dark, enlightened eyes. Embracing this treasure to his heart, it melds within, emerald absorbed by ebony.
Becoming …
Though before he walked without direction, without purpose, now he is directed, driven, determined. He knows what he must do. He knows the ultimate result of his actions. He knows the terrible price he must pay. But he knows that he is the only one who can perform the task, he knows what will happen if he fails. He stands resolute against his doom, his inevitable fate. Accepts the gauntlet.
What he thought of as some grisly collection of tunnels are the pulsing arteries of a behemoth in size truly beyond imagination. Questing with his mind, he senses its gratitude for the peace he has brought, its willing participation with his great task. Amidst the labyrinthine passages, muscles contract and flex to his silent command, thrusting him gently towards the fulfilment of his destiny.
Convulsions cease, end of the road. The pounding heart of this great beast revealed, majestic before him. Arms upraised, fingers outstretched like dusky spires against the muted sapphire glimmer. Flesh breaks open and azure brilliance spills out, cleansing him with the gargantuan heart’s blazing inferno. With a mixture of anticipation and dread in his soul he welcomes the cerulean void.
Ascending …
Light, bright, blinding.
A voice, querulous and rasping: “Son, what in TARNATION are you doing here?”
He smiles to himself, joy fills his heart, fulfilment of purpose. What better place than here, what better time than now? It begins.
“I bring unto you a message …”
Sarai
Amazing!
S
Scott d'Almeida
great words;
Cailean replied
Thank you – it was more of an experiment with words than a real story in some ways, although the end result was rather … bizarre. If you enjoyed the images here, check out “The Cage” as well.