Night of Blood and Tears - Chapter one: City of blood

It was a dark night, unlike any other. Though a full moon hung high in the sky its light could not touch the ground, no for its radiance was being blocked, blocked by clouds as dark as evil it’s self. The icy wind was blowing strong and the clouds moved by like a tempest sea in the sky. Never did they release there grasp over the sky, no the moon would not shine this night…though down below some one was still feeling its existence even threw the shroud of black waves, someone who could never forget the overwhelming power of the full moon and it’s grasp on his heart.

Deep with in the vast forest no one had ever bothered to name stands a lone village, nestled in a large clearing the town’s people had always considered them selves safe, protected by the forests thick underbrush, and until this night they were right. No one, hardly ever came that far into the deep forest, let alone bandits or thieves. So the little self sustained village was happy and peaceful, a heaven from the dangers and ugliness of the world outside there cherished woodland walls. But this night, this night of darkness, something evil had found it’s way into there happy village, and nothing would ever be the same again.

On the very outskirts of the village, almost against the tree line that had offered so much protection for the village in the past, stands a lone sign. It sits on the side of the only road entering or leaving the village, a dirt path that found its start at the very beginning of the forest and wound its way all the way through to this very clearing. Even to the villagers the carvers of this path are a mystery; many believe it to have been created by their ancestors on the long journey to steal in these woods, still elder citizens believe the path was carved far before there forefathers ever came to these parts.

In large black painted letters the sign declared “Welcome to Paz Eterna”, and in smaller letters below it said “population 350”. A small village but friendly, on the rare occasion they did have a visitor they treated that person like family, how ever there is one visitor they never should have welcomed. The village is built around its town square, a 30 yard diameter cobblestone laden patch of land from which the rest of the town spiraled out. In the past it had been the grand showcase for town festivals, markets, and meetings, but this night it was witness to a far less joyful affair.

The ocean of black clouds suddenly grew violent, huge gusts of wind swept through the clearing, thunder clapped shaking the very ground below, and lightning streaked across the ink black sky. A single bolt of lighting came frightfully close to town, close enough to illuminate the seemingly empty town square. Figures began to move among countless mounds of unknown items. Hey ran franticly, scouring, mindlessly, tripping and falling all over them selves, rats fleeing from viper. Only one figure didn’t run, it moved coolly, comely, calculatingly maneuvering is self around obstacles as it chases down the others. It has no need to run, no his pray were already dead they just didn’t know it yet. While they wasted all there energy fleeing he just followed in a tranquil pace, knowing they would not be able to run far enough of hide deep enough.

A young boy, who had just turned 16 that month, runs for his life…fear in his eyes a kind of fear he had never known before. His mind was clouded by that fear, his legs moved all on there own as the deepest part of his mind kept shouting, run, run away. Still as far or as fast as he ran his chaser always seemed to be right behind him. Had he been more rational he may have taken the time to wonder why a man who was only walking could keep up with him who was running, but all rationality had left his mind the moment he saw his mother, father, sister and brother all being slaughtered senselessly and brutally along with the rest of hi town.

He had lived in this town all his life but tonight it seamed as alien as another planet. It is pitch black, but he can still make out the cobblestone road ahead. He was in the town square. The stones were wet beneath his feet as he ran, it hadn’t rained for days and yet he kept running through huge puddles splashing his pant legs. A fowl stench hung in the air, so thick he could taste it on the tip of his tongue, it tasted salty and much like iron. He had tasted it before, long ago when he was a kid and he helped his mom milk the family cow, he had been standing behind the cow watching his mother when a near buy gun shot spooked the old cow, causing her kick her hind leg into the boys face. The boy was lucky and able to fall back at the last second so he only took a fraction of the cow’s hit; still it had knocked one of his baby teeth lose. All he could taste for a week was blood, and that’s what he tastes now blood, but not his own, and in much greater quantity.

Bolt after bolt of lightning streak across the jet black sky with each flash the town is illuminated before him. As he runs what he sees only makes his legs run faster. Spread out before him, surrounded by darkness are huge mounds of bodies, pilled up one on to of each other. They were his friends and neighbors, their faces and bodies frozen in horrible agony. He runs madly, with out purpose, darting through they mounds of flesh. The ground beneath his feet wet, the stones stained red with blood, each and ever person who made up these heaps of bodies had been torn open our apart, every last drop of there blood ripped out as if by the claws and fangs of an animal.

Hell spread vast and everlasting in front of him, the town he once felt so safe in now terrified him to no end. He runs around another pile of bodies, but in his fear driven state trips over something and comes falling down onto the hard stones. Still he cant take a single moment to rest, no his fear won’t let him. He pushes him self back to his feet, he had split his forehead open on a rock, and the front of his once pressed white shirt and warn faded jeans were wet with blood. A mix of his and others blood runs into his eyes, and he wipes the stinging crimson away with the back of his hand. Something suddenly grabs his leg and he looks down, it was an arm, an arm of a young woman. She was still alive but trapped at the bottom of the pile. The left side of her face is badly cut, her flesh almost torn off, she begs threw blood socked teeth for his help…but hears foot steps coming closer to him, slow strides not mindless running. His eyes dart back behind him and his mind goes blank. A figure, still shrouded in darkness even when lightning lit up the sky, was walking ever so calmly towards him…this man…no this thing carved a path of death before him and had hell following in his wake.

The young boy looks back down at the girl and then at the demon making his way over to him. Another poor soul made the last mistake of his life, he ran screaming right in front of the devil him self and he was shown no mercy. The devil raised his hand and grabbed the poor soul in front of him. Even from this distance the boy could tell who it was. It was the kindly old doc of the village, a nice man his 60’s who gave away free treatment to injured kids. Nice or mean, good or evil it didn’t mater to him, the devil took hold of the docs neck with an arm of steel and raised him high off the ground.

The boy knows he should run, his mind told his feet to move but they were frozen as he looked on at the brutal scene of carnage laid out before him. The old doc’s screams echo through the still night, he begged pleaded with the devil to spare his life, even as the breath was squeezed from his body. But the devil has no sympathy or remorse; he simply raised his other hand. You see the devil’s hands aren’t like human hands, no there claws, each finger long and with a razor sharp point that could rip through sheet metal. So the devil raised that claw of his to the doc’s stomach and plunges all five of his razor sharp fingers right in. There so sharp at first it’s like the claws and the doc and merged together, only after the devil started cutting up to the doc’s stomach did the realization hit.

The old doc screamed with every thing he was worth, every once of his life went with that scream as the devil ripped open the doc’s guts. By the time the devils claws cut up to his chest the doc’s screams had become a struggled cough, spitting out blood like a fountain. The devil had taken it slow till now as well, but he became bored, and with one quick thrust of strength he cut the doc into, the two haves of his body seemingly suspended in mid air as time slowed down. Blood spurted like a geyser from between the two halves what was once the kindly old doc. All too quickly though time regained its normal flow and the two halves of now worthless dead flesh fell the ground at the devils feet.

As the boy stared on frozen in horror at what he had just witness, the devils interest is peaked and raising its head it looks straight at the boy, with eyes the darkest red the boy had ever seen. The boy can swear he saw the fire of hell in those eyes, those eyes as deep as the pits of hell. The devil begins walking again, stepping over the split body of his latest kill, he retakes the chase of the young boy, still strolling along as if all this meant nothing to him.

Seeing the devil walking after him again snaps him back into reality and he turns to run, still something grips his leg keeping him running. The girl sill held on to his leg, her pleas louder and more fearful now, she had been watching the devil too, and knew she was going to be next. The boy couldn’t even think about helping the girl, his mind was to blinded by fear to see her as another person needing help, he could only see her as an obstacle holding him back when all his legs wanted to do was run. She clings to him for dear life shouting her lungs out as the devil came closed. The boy tries to shake her hand free from his ankle but her grasp was tight, she was using ever last once of her strength to hold on.

The boy looks back for a second to see the devil coming ever closer, holding his blood soaked claw up to his lips and licking the blood of like an animal. Seeing the devil progress onto there location the boy’s eyes open wide and shoot down to the girl, he stomps on her hand and wrist with his other foot, screaming all sorts of profanity at her, trying to get her to let go. He no longer even hears her screams for help, he pleading to help her, no the beating of his own heart was so loud in his ears it blocked out every thing else. He slams down hard on the girls wrist with his boot, shattering it, as her screams of pain echo out into the night her grip on ankle falls lose and he runs, runs with ever once of strength, giving no word of apology or explanation.

The devil walks slowly up to the girl, she begs and pleads for him to spare her life, blood and tears run down her once soft and supple cheeks. The devil seemingly doesn’t notice her, walking right up to her with out so much as batting an eye down at her. As he steps over her for a moment the hope of safety cuts across her mind, this feeling shatters the minuet the devil brings a large boot down on the girls head, stepping on her head like it was a bump in the road. The girl screams out as the pressure increases until finally…crack…the devils boot go’s right threw the girls skull, crushing it like a bug. The devil takes a moment to scrap the brain and bits of skull mater from the bottom of his boot onto the cobblestone ground before continuing on with his slow stride.

The boy’s eyes dart around as he runs, looking for anyone else, any other survivor, he found nothing. There had been a few when he first stared running for his life, others scrambling, running, tripping over them selves to get away. Now he was alone nothing around him moved everything was still around him, the only movement came from him and the devil at his heals. The boys suddenly feels his progress slip away as he comes face to face with a brick wall, he had reached the end of the town square and had hit the first building. Driven mad with fear he claws and scrapes at the wood and plaster wall, leaving bloody claw marks behind and no progress breaking threw.

With his fingernails either pealed back and bleeding, or broken and chipped, he finally comes back to regain some hold over his senses. He turns around slowly and puts his back flat up against the wall, expecting to see his attacker slowly and methodically walking up after him, but when his eyes surveyed the vast wasteland of death sprawled out before him he can see nothing living. The devil had disappeared, leaving only his handy work, crimson soaked ground and grottoes piles of human bodies sprawled out as far as the eye can see.

Nervously the boy gave a sigh of relief, some how he had made it threw, some how he was safe. Still he knew he couldn’t just sit around, he had to get out of town, he turned to the side with ever intention of walking away free and clear, when with the speed of blood thirsty wolf a figure sprang out at him.

The boys eyes shot open as he felt the razor sharp claw enter his stomach, once again time slowed down, he felt cold, as if suddenly covered head to toe in icy. The claw made its way up his body, cutting deep into his flesh all the way to the tip of head. Its fun, even as he fell limply down onto the ground, all he could feel was cold. He could hear his own blood splat against the plaster and wood wall. The boy feel onto the hard ground on his back, his head hitting a large out of place cobblestone, causing the back of his head to bleed. His short blood hair soon turned red, and then a pool of crimson formed around his head, giving his a halo of death. His icy blue eyes look up at his killer standing over him, but they can focus right, and the devil comes out black and blurry while the wall behind him, the one with the long red streaks of blood going up it. There are five lines in total forming a perfect diagonal claw mark up the pristine white wall. Soon every thing goes out of focus and go black even though his eyes are still wide open.

They say that your whole life flashes before your eyes when you die, but all the boy can see is the girl he left behind when he ran, even though his mind is clear now…no longer held by other thoughts, he can’t figure out why he kept seeing the girls face as he ran away. Then where as before her face and voice had been a blur to him, they become clear now and he knew the reason. “Jacob, please help me Jacob, help me big brother.” that’s what the girl had been saying, all the time it had been his little sister Katherine, or Katy as every one always called her, she always did hate to be called Katherine. In his fear laden state he hadn’t recognized his own preaches little sister. The sister he had taken care of and watched over all his life, the sister who was his last remaining family and he had just abandoned her, left her trapped there crying out for his help. Even though his eyes couldn’t see any longer they still filled with tears, tears that streamed down his cheeks like water falls. As his mind became cloudy and life slipped away from him he kept reliving the same seen over and over again for an eternity in a second as the last bit of life slipped from his eyes and was lost ever more to the void.

Night of Blood and Tears - Chapter one: City of blood


Joined November 2007

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