Et Encore [Reserved]

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Kismet
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Et Encore [Reserved]

Post by Kismet » Sat May 30, 2020 2:28 am

The incinerator roar became background noise, for Dr. Maria D'Amico, a quiet hush to lull her through the night. Not to sleep - Kismet had told her to keep an eye on the incinerator. For all the years she had worked with that woman, her advice had never led her astray, so keep an eye on it she did, reclining in a nearby chair, focusing only on her thoughts.

She did not like her thoughts. It was a common fate, within her field. The things she did lent her mind to great moral turmoil, intentions of daydream flitting into darker things. Suffering. Silence. Illness in vials, pushed into the veins, only for watchful eyes to observe. They did science. They made progress. Long research into a tool to attain an ends, some solution to the ephemeral issue Kismet had professed. They scoured the works of great minds left behind - Sorland, Gravesend, Stervos, Lyle. Advancements lost to death or madness, for such was the nature of life on the fringe - it consumed your body, or it consumed your mind. Maria knew the pain.

She knew it every night, her dreams disturbed by faces of the ones she'd left to die.

But it was a necessary evil. A worthy sacrifice. The world would be a better place, with the products of their minds, and if they needed to climb atop the bodies of a few to reach the apex, their deaths would not be in vain. Humanity as a whole, transcended, life as we knew it, rearranged. It took great focus and fuel to change society - no, humanity - in such a short time, as massive and immovable a thing it was. Kismet was leading them into a new era.

And in this time of transition, in this period of was to is to will be, Maria knew a single misstep meant she could be left behind.

Bang.

The doctor jolted, almost knocking her chair forward - then settled back down. Merely the metal, expanding from the heat. She checked her watch - four hours had passed, since Kismet had asked her to burn the corpse. It had to be little more than ash, by now. Time enough - besides, it was growing late. Yawning and stretching, Maria rose from her chair, dawdling over to the incinerator door and turning it off. She waited a moment for the air inside to cool, then opened the door, shining a penlight into the abyss.

The body was whole. Blackened, charred, fabric of the gown melted into the skin - but whole. As she watched, a finger twitched.

She rose her other hand to balance the first. A trick of the shadows, was all. The light was unsteady, circle small. With steadier aim, she watched the body a few more seconds, then sighed and stepped away, pulling her phone - an old flip-phone, anything with internet wasn't allowed inside the facility's walls - out and dialing Kismet.

She waited as it rang.

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Re: Et Encore [Reserved]

Post by Jaeger » Sat May 30, 2020 3:46 am

Death had brought him clarity when he was first brought unto its abyss. A second descent bore similar fruit.

Bitter, this fruit was, yet it was sobering all the same; as his mind relaxed itself into the suffocating oblivion Fatima had cursed upon him, the memories of fire and hatred. Returned once more. No longer were these terrifying visions a mere product of sleepless guilt trapped within his conscience; no, like specters given life from beyond their shallow and putrefying graves, these apparitions of a life unlived descended upon him with furious vigor, taunting him like crazed harpies in dire need of prey to torment-- and torment they did. This ethereal chasm of memory was his very own hell-- and it would be his grave, if he did not act. If he did not will himself to fight.

Images of war flashed before his eyes like the flickering embers of a dying inferno. He had killed. Gods, had he killed. Lives were atoms beneath his crushing grip, insignificant and malleable like the earth beneath his palms; worlds were cast into oblivion by the very same hands which twitched the strings of mortal minds, a puppeteer of envy and anger. He did not know why-- he did not know how-- but these emotions were a part of him all the same, indelible as the ironflesh arm which grafted itself upon his shoulder. These tormenting dreams, these dire visions-- they were without end, without beginning, thrust upon him all at once like an ocean of existence which swallowed him whole and sank him to the deepest levels of depravity. He was damned to choke on it, drown in it.

He did not know what even was, anymore.

And then, it was over.

The world fell away, now. Naught except the kaleidoscopic patterns of experience flowed before him, pulsating through space like stygian channels of the mind itself; he was a mere passenger to the currents of his own mind, prismatic and beautiful, the expanse of all he was laid out before his very eyes. It was... clear.

It was so very clear, wasn't it?

The memory of existence glowed before him. Through the geometric striations of consciousness, a single point swirled itself into reality, a vortex of thought and soul and essence and being. It called to him. Beckoned to him. All he had suffered through, all he had endured. A thousand lifetimes, a thousand deaths, a thousand shards. The fall from above had rendered him scattered amongst the winds of time and space, a flurry of countless bodies formed beneath an amalgamate whole. All he had witnessed-- all he had caused.

All he was, and ever would be, had led to here.

To rebirth.

The Mortal Eldest reached out to grasp the well of life before him, and he was carried off upon the tides of reality like a single droplet within an immeasurable sea; finite, yet infinite.

The droplet became the ocean, and the ocean the droplet.

So became Victor, the awoken, the reborn.

His eyes opened to the grim reality of his vessel once more; monochromatic plates of steel became his cage, his forge, the fires which sought to immolate him only tempering the mind's edge. This tomb was his crucible, his inferno from which the blade would be plunged into the waters of the world proper; what remained, now, would be to pull the metal from the fire's edge, to hammer its form into perfection.

And so, when the woman stepped away from his scorched crypt, the man sat up.

It was slow, eventual-- like a tree budding along a wildfire's edge, unbound by heat and ash alike, Victor rose to gaze from within the darkness at his captor. His eyes burnt like raked coals upon a stove; his body was settled ash, dusted and darkened by the fires which sought to consume him. With purpose, he would find his way to freedom-- so, with was with purpose that he moved from sitting to standing, hand pressing upon the upper mandible of the incinerator as he freed himself from the hungering teeth. He stepped upon the tile, ash falling from his form like dust from an ancient statuesque sentry; in the space between chimes from the phone the woman held, he was upon her, hand wrapping around her throat to silence any words as his other hand coiled around her wrist, twin serpents striking to leave streaks of ash upon wherever it was they touched.

He hoisted her skyward, letting her asphyxiate from the mere force of gravity to remind her of the insignificance her presence carried. Whether or not her sounds of distress were vocalized mattered not to him-- in fact, he hoped that the demon upon the other end of the line heard what was occurring. The words upon the phone's screen were clear to him-- a name. Hers.

Mary Brown.

It was with two fingers that he pried the phone from the doctor's fingers and held it before his scorched maw.


"You should have known better than to burn me, whore."


His fist curled around the telephone and crushed it within his grip, metal and plastic crackling in the petrified remains of his appendage before he threw the woman forward, leaving her to slam against the ivory walls of the artificial crematorium; his ember-laden gaze lingered upon her a moment longer, as if debating her worth.

The moment passed, and he shook his head, turning away and pushing out through the morgue to exit whatever twisted prison held him.

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Re: Et Encore [Reserved]

Post by Kismet » Sun May 31, 2020 2:21 am

Fingers wrapped around her throat from behind. She opened her mouth to scream - but already, she was being hoisted into the air, throat closed tight by the weight of her own body. It burned where he touched her. She kicked helplessly, but it was no use. Every strike of her heel against his chest was like hitting a corpse. Was hitting a corpse, if the amount of time they burned him meant anything, if the red-hot metal wrapped around her throat truly showed how the incinerator had grown. He snatched her phone from her hand, spoke a threat, then crushed it. It didn't matter. She'd get another, if she survived.

Would she survive?

A hoisted arm, and her body flew, crashing hard into the wall of the room. She slumped to the ground, motionless - not unconscious, just not an imbecile. A moment's pause, through fluttered eyes, then the man was gone, off to doubtless terrorize some other section of the facility. The moment the door closed behind him, Maria moved. Darting - as much as her aching body allowed - not out the way he came, but towards the wall, pulling the lever on the fire alarm. Then, she fell once more, cradling her scorched throat in her hands as sirens blared and water fell from above.

--

"Do you see the fire?" Roger asked, leaning over the row of monitors. David, beside him, scrolled his mouse, pulling up feed after feed.

"No luck. The alarm was pulled in the incinerator room, but - shit." The room came up on the console. Maria still lay on the floor, curled in the fetal position. "Check hallways 12A, 12B, 13A."

Images flashed - one caught.

"What the fuck is that."

A living corpse. A charred beast, prowling the hall, steam rising from his still-burning body as the sprinklers showered.

"Call security to 13A. Now."

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Re: Et Encore [Reserved]

Post by Deus Mortis » Sun May 31, 2020 6:53 pm

Seven men were called to 13A. Seven men were called to die.

If this facility went deeper in the masks of black markered files and red tape, the security responding would have been more intensive, more ready. If this was any other floor with living personnel and more valuable assets, there would have been more security guards roaming the halls, more men responding to the alarm going off in 13A. But this was not any other floor. Dead things were kept on this floor, decommissioned machines, and materials no longer useful to the scientists on the other floors, most pending approval for erasure or transport. Never before was there a problem on 13A that required anything more than a maintenance tech. Today, there was.

”Go, go, go!” One of the men, Evans, the most senior of them all. Military trained with some combat experience under his belt. Transferred to the facility after his knees started giving him problems at sites that required more optimal guards. Assurance was kinder with the health benefits to employees who were more than just “above average”. Not that he complained. This place was usually an easy check.

The other six running alongside or behind him were John, Edward, Juan Carlos, Jamie, Alex, and Logan. None of them had any military experience, though Juan Carlos was a cop for a few years. Ended up joining Assurance after hearing about some job offers from a friend. The others were people with some experience as security guards on their resumes.

”Lethals?!” Logan yelled from the back, staying there to avoid tripping anyone up ahead.

”Eddie, get your taser out. If you shoot it with that and it doesn’t go down, gun whatever-the-fuck-we’re-about-to-see down!” Evans replied, putting a hand to his radio. ”13A SEC responding to the alarm! We’re right around the corn-”

The group turned the corner to the hall and all froze in place. Their eyes all fell upon the standing corpse, frozen by its flaming, embered eyes. Alex took a step back, the squeak of his shoe enough to snap Evans out of his stupor.

”EDDIE, TASER!”

Edward raised the nonlethal weapon up, self-preservation telling him to do anything but fight. His legs began shaking, as did his hands, as did his weapon.

”FREEZE! I-” Edward looked deep into the corpse’s eyes and his world shattered around him. Chains of hot wire gripped his very heart, seized his every movement. Flames stole the breath from his lungs as if there was smoke filling every pocket of air within his nostrils. Specks of ash alight burned at his skin like spots, sending his mind into a hysteria. The world hadn’t even moved a second but time had lost its meaning when his eyes met The Mortal Eldest’s own.

”I SAID FREEZE YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

”EDDIE NO-”

Edward fired the taser off, twin-prongs seeking to imbed themselves into the corpse’s charred skin, flooding the undead body with fifty thousand volts of electricity at first before dropping to thirteen hundred volts.

Everyone raised their own weapons, some more steadily than the others, none without some lack of fear in their hearts. In his haste, Evans left his radio microphone on, every sound that was about to go down transmitting loud and clear for their overwatch to hear.

”EDDIE, WHAT THE FUCK?”

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Re: Et Encore [Reserved]

Post by Jaeger » Mon Jun 01, 2020 6:36 pm

Rain fell from above, splattering across his ashen form as if a storm had brewed itself within the very halls of the prison which held him. Water sloughed from his head and shoulders and evaporated upon direct contact with the burning embers that stirred within; the flickering inferno within his vessel was suffocated, somewhat, but it refused to kowtow to the suppression which fell down upon him like a choking shroud. The rage within him was his undying ember, immortal coals which gave light to the fire which burned throughout-- scorched footprints marked where he had stepped, and a plume of smoldering ash flitted from the petrified remains of his body. He was a walking testament to ire; a revenant born from hate.

As the effigy continued his prowl through the underbelly of the godforsaken facility he had been held within, the clarion hallmark of battle greeted his ears-- voices, shouting and fervent, commands thrown out into the open air as an approaching garrison prepared to face the might of his presence. Just as he thrived off of conflict's arrival, his very existence exacerbated adversarial schisms and deep-seated opposition-- he preceded conflict, as conflict preceded him. It was an everlasting cycle as ancient as the rising sun and the setting moon, and so long as he still remained upon this earth, such would be his purpose.

Soon, the presence of such adversarial prattle was made fully known to him. Seven soldiers had arrived to confront him-- a truly spartan outfit. Generic uniforms adorned their quivering forms, and the weaponry they clutched within their shaking hands was of little note to his approaching eyes. His burning stare shifted from guard to guard, a lone warrior approaching and daring to threaten his advancement with a voice that nearly collapsed beneath its own weight.

Victor did not cease in his ashen prowl, and the sidearm was fired.

Electricity coursed through his boiled veins, the turbulent ichor conducting the voltage which sought to entwine his muscles like batches of serpents and arrest each limb into agonizing paralysis; the vessel let out the barest semblance of a grunt, his body twitching momentarily as if muscle memory demanded he feel the torment of the fateful lightning which beckoned throughout. His memory rekindled itself at the sensation, burning rage seething through from mere association alone. Something deep within his mind felt hate, virulent hate.

The Mortal Eldest was a hurricane of existence. He was immovable; unstoppable. The firearms these sentries possessed were mere flags in the wind, their bullets lost to the storm of his vessel as he stepped forward, now, fighting the incapacitation of the taser to wrap a single hand around the man who had first fired upon him. A flex of his wrist brought the soldier up to his eyes-- for the effigy had found himself taller, now, a statue amongst the living-- and the raked coals of his gaze met the soldier's own. The man would stare into the depths of hell itself; the turgid inferno of all that was, and all that ever would be. Infinity burned within the reflective pupils of his opponent. Smoldering gasps of smoke wafted from his shoulder and head, and the vessel uttered a few words.


"You are brave. Foolish, but brave."


And with that, Victor tossed the man at the wall with all the effort of throwing a handaxe, his gaze turning to the six men that stood before him. Whether or not they had fired upon him, yet, was unknown to the Eldest.

The end result was all the same. He stepped towards them, and began to walk.

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Re: Et Encore [Reserved]

Post by Deus Mortis » Mon Jun 01, 2020 10:11 pm

Gunfire exploded over every inch of the hallway, echoing within and splitting the ears of the defiant guards. Yellow flashes of false triumph spewed from the ends of gun barrels, bringing upon the god-fearing men the agony of retaliation.

Chambers clicked off among them, weapons starved of their abilities to bring ruin upon the enemy. Only but half were able to hear the clicks of their magazines following the lead volley. All of them were frozen at the sight of the still-standing amalgamation.

”Grh…" Molten flesh gripped Edward’s neck. His breath was halted, desperation displayed clearly in his feeble attempts to free himself. Eyes that breathed infinity gave the hoisted guard pause for a thousand years. Adrenaline ran his heart with vigor he’s never felt before, every pulse like a drum struck beside his ears. Yet, even that did nothing to stop him from hearing the words of a dead man.


"You are brave. Foolish, but brave."


There was not a moment before Edward’s vision blurred and then, darkness.

Were it not for the gunfire of before, the remaining guards would fare some semblance of chance at hearing the crack that came from behind Edward’s body. His eyelids closed halfway as the taser clattered against the ground. His chest rose unseen by any of the guards, breath still being drawn to his chest.

”FUCKING RUN!” Logan yelled from the back. True to his terror-filled words, he ran back the way they came, forgetting in his moment of hysteria that the elevators going up were in the completely opposite direction.

”GET THE FUCK BACK!” The order left Evans’ lips with as much authority as he could muster. The command was enough to break the panicked trance the others were stuck in, each still afraid but now capable of acting. And act they did.

They began running down the hall towards the elevators which were still several dozens of yards away. A magazine fell from John’s hands while he tried to reload, shaking hands making any steady work impossible. The others were more successful, hastily pulling the slide back on their pistols as they ran. Evans looked back expecting to have lost another member of his group. Instead, his eyes only saw a figure down the hall. It walked towards them, the pace slow but unwaveringly steady.

”STOP HERE! STOP-” Alex kept running, or tried to before Evans rushed forward and grabbed the younger man by the arm. Wide eyes returned Evans’ stare. A gun twisted around before being halted entirely by the older guard.

”ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID? STOP! I SAID TO STOP!”

Alex’s hold of the gun wavered before his arm dropped to his side, released from Evans’ grasp.

”I-I’m sorry, I tho-fuck, I thought you were that thing, man. I'm sorry-”

”I can barely fucking hear you so just shut up and listen.” Evans grabbed Alex by the shoulders and shoved him back towards the group. ”HOLD HERE! I’M RADIOING COMMAND! IF IT STARTS RUNNING, SHOOTING ITS FUCKING LEGS, OKAY? OKAY. WAIT FOR MY COMMAND!”

Evans’ hand went down to turn on his radio, his thumb going through the muscle memory of pressing down the “transmit” button. With all of his nerves alive and yelling at him to run, he didn’t even notice that it was already on.

”COMMAND, THIS IS 13 SEC, THIS THING ISN'T GOING DOWN! EDDI- EDWARD IS DEAD! WE NEED SOM-!” A door opened to his right and Evans raised his pistol. The trigger was already being pulled by the time he realized it was a scientist. Thankfully for the both of them, the guard had enough training to stop himself from immediately firing. The two exchanged a mutual startlement before Evans mouthed for him to ”fucking go”. The scientist didn’t need any more motivation to start running.

”I WAS SAYING, WE NEED SOMETHING HEAVY DOWN HERE NOW! I DON’T THINK WE CAN HOLD HIM OFF!”

Like before, Evans left the radio transmitting without meaning to, looking back at the lumbering giant roaming the halls towards them. Each guard was tense, expecting the corpse to rush out at them at any moment...but that moment never came. Each step The Mortal Eldest took was deliberate and full of strength. Even from where they were, they all knew that.

That’s what scared them the most.

”ALRIGHT, SHOOT IT! FUCKING SHOOT IT!”

The guards opened fire on him, another concerto of gunshots echoing throughout the 13th floor. Fear sent some of their rounds to hit the ground or walls beside him, only half of their shots being on target. To them, it mattered not. Every pull of the trigger brought them some semblance of confidence, as if every bullet fired from their guns brought them closer to control over their fates.

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Re: Et Encore [Reserved]

Post by Jaeger » Tue Jun 02, 2020 1:21 am

They ran, and he followed.

Slowly. Ever so slowly, he trailed their shocked retreat. The world had been shaken by his arrival, and he himself was the lone wave which bloomed upon the horizon to drown all that it touched within the weight of its arrival. Bullets fell upon him like an archer's volley; pinpricks blossomed along the sites of impact, numbed and negligible. Ashen clouds fell from the sheer force of each projectile striking his form, but he continued to walk, unabashed in his steady pace. His eyes remained trained upon his attackers.

They were frightened of him. They deemed him a thing. Slowly, his gaze shifted to the wall where a waterfall ran to the floor from the sprinklers above; what stared back at him was no man. Twin embers glowered within his reflection, and the very image forced him to stop, if not for the briefest of moments; his eyes lingered upon the sight for not a moment longer, his head tilting to the side in rapt perplexion before a bullet to the side of his skull jarred further musings from the scattered tempest of his mind. Thoughts were like debris trapped within the radius of his vortex; they were distant, now, thrown about with little importance. What mattered was emotion. What mattered was rage.

And so it was with rage that his pace quickened.

Like a towering oak, he fell upon the bloodthirsty sentries which sought to fell him out of reckless vengeance-- but he did not run. It was his pace that quickened, his step that hastened, his posture that hunched, but he did not sprint. There was no need to rush something as gratifying as this. Eons, he had spent, trapped away from this world, unable to stake his influence upon it-- and when he returned, they greeted him with fear, with weaponry. They fought him. They nearly felled him.

A thousand shards scrambled for purchase upon the mind of Victor, and it was righteous ire that inevitably claimed him.


"You dare fire upon me."
The Eldest growled, the stalwart baritone of his voice shaking the foundations of the subterranean facility like a magnificent earthquake in its own right. The embers within his eyes flickered, then narrowed, his gnarled jaw twisting into an expression of animalistic revulsion. How dare they attempt to kill him with their idiotic mortal weaponry after all he had endured-- after all he had suffered through.
"KNEEL, YOU DISGUSTING RATS!"


His voice built into a frenzy of sound and sight, the very air warping around his maw to twist and formulate a deafening shockwave which blossomed from the lips. The riposte shot out into the narrow confines of the corridor, reverberating off of the tile and shearing objects from the walls as it rushed towards the defensive guards like an invisible chariot given motion by the mere confluence of the Eldest's spoken word. Victor found even himself pressed back upon the heels of his feet, but his posture remained unbroken, and he continued into the volley of gunfire that was sure to follow.

It was then that the effigy moved with startling speed, unfazed by the impact of bullets and shockwaves alike as a hand darted out to grab the leader of the opposition. Rebirth brought clarity-- his senses were still acute, now, and a name shattered throughout his mind, rebuilding itself within his mouth to be spat out at the very man clutched before him.


"EVANS MILE. YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME, YOU SULLIED VERMIN, AND YOU WILL LISTEN CLOSE TO EVERY WORD WHICH PASSES THROUGH THE VACUOUS SPACE THAT CONSTITUTES YOUR MORTAL MIND."
He roared, kicking one of his nearby men in the gut to distance any potential help from the prey he clutched within his hands. It would be so effortless, to cleanse the stain of a man from this world-- so easy, and yet-- and yet, the boy's life still remained. He could not bring himself to kill a soldier called upon by his overseer, no matter how venomous the head of the snake, no matter how vile the wench who commanded these forces.

Instead, he pulled the man close, an infinite gaze of fire parsing itself through the narrow pits of the effigy's sockets like the upper vent of a volcanic pillar.


"You cannot kill me. You would be so lucky as to graze me with these disgusting weapons. I am to you as a man is to an ant. I am the wrath that lingers in the reaches of your conscience. I am the fear which grips your addled mind, even now, and I am the brutal hammering of your heart-- the fatal beating which threatens to burst from your pathetic chest-- as you come face to face with death, boy. Remember my visage."


A flick of his hand threw Evans Mile from his grasp, and he turned once more to gaze upon the soldiers who faced him-- whether or not their spirits were broken was of no importance to him. His pace quickened once more, and he walked with brisk steps to the elevator.

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Re: Et Encore [Reserved]

Post by Deus Mortis » Tue Jun 02, 2020 7:30 pm

”IT’S NOT WORKING! FALL BACK! FALL-"
"KNEEL, YOU DISGUSTING RATS!"


The concentrated might of a raging storm battered against the guards’ own forms, their bodies pelted by the barrage of ceramic tiles loosened from the very walls and ceiling. The tiles shattered against some, splintering off into smaller pieces while others remained whole. Both fractured bone and bruised skin.

Jagged tile pieces awaited the guards as they fell upon the ruined ground, ceramic points stabbing into unarmored clothing and flesh. The guards screamed out in pain but the air refused to carry their words, the furious roar of the Eldest commanding even the world to halt its tongue.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE --

Evans’ body cried in pain but adrenaline pushed him to go forward. Fear motivated him to get up and run, to fight, to do something, anything but lie on the floor and accept his fate. He rolled over to his side, his bruised hand sliding to feel the cold metal of his sidearm. He scooped it up and looked over at the closest guard next to him: Juan Carlos. His eyes were widened in fear, looking down the hall before screaming something at Evans.

-- EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE --

...huh?

The world blurred for a moment before sharpening. A numb pain radiated from the side of his head. His ears hurt, the combined strength of the gunshots and Eldest shout enough to make them bleed. He couldn’t hear anything, save for the ringing.

Juan Carlos scrambled to get up. He was shouting the entire time. Evans’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion, something tugging at his mind...why was- Wait, oh shi-

”EVANS!”

Juan Carlos all but dived in front of the senior guard. Cracks emitted from the center of his chest before ending around the sides, his body sent rocketing into the wall beside them.


"EVANS MILE....


That was the last thing any mortal man should have heard.


"...YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME.”


Their name invoked by a raging god.

He did not know it was possible to feel a fear this deep. His lungs simply stopped, not another breath daring to draw within. His heart skipped a beat and another after that one, burrowing itself even farther into his body, as far inwards as it could possibly ever go.

The Eldest’s words did not simply cut the air, but barreled through it. It was impossible not to hear the threats as they hammered their way into his ears. It was impossible to resist the impossible strength which grappled him. Like Edward and Juan Carlos, Evans too found it impossible to save himself from the inevitable.

He was sent flying down the hall from which the Eldest was reborn. Something yelled from the right side of his body the moment he hit the ground, exhaustion hitting him even harder. It was difficult to move his body, impossible to even look back towards Victor Graf. Gazing upon death took more will than Evans had to give.

Jamie and Alex needed no more incentive to run. Fight or flight no longer applied as they exhausted their only means to fight. The fleeing guards were the opposite of a cornered animal as they took to flight, sprinting full speed towards the elevator. It was only John who remained.

There was pause given from seeing the flaming war god moving towards him. It was as if his mind went completely blank in the way he simply stared at the approaching giant. To say John acted like a deer caught in the headlights of a car was not inaccurate, the lone guard snapping back to his senses only after the dead man was a dozen feet away. His gaze peered back to see his only remaining comrades running and Victor still unwavering in his pursuit.

He raised his gun and aimed it at the giant’s back, a newfound heaviness resting suddenly within the weapon. His finger could not find the strength to pull the trigger. His thoughts frantically pleaded for him not to shoot. They begged for him to stop and consider his luck at being the only one to avoid the god's wrath.

In the end, his thoughts won.

He looked over to the room the scientist from earlier ran out of and entered it. Likely unheard to either guard or Graf, the lock on the door clicked.

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Re: Et Encore [Reserved]

Post by Jaeger » Wed Jun 03, 2020 6:11 pm

With the leader felled, Victor could only watch in hidden bemusement as the remnants of the squadron scurried into their burrows and fled like rats amongst a sinking ship. Still, he could not fault them for the correct choice, in the end-- unequivocal retreat, in body in mind. To separate their corporeal forms from his presence was not enough; the mind must be cleansed of him, the memories blockaded from remembrance by traumatic protection. There would be glimpses of him, surely, in the backs of their minds until the day they perished upon this earth-- whenever their conscience underwent grave agony, whenever fear struck their consciousness with great strength, he would be there. They would think of him, as countless others have.

The elevator doors lay up ahead, stagnant and lustrous like some iteration of pearled salvation for the unfortunate souls that had been called upon to face him. The remaining sentries stood by it, flagrant terror consuming their rationality like parasitic affliction, clinging to the hope of escape like a leper held within darkest dungeon. They yearned for freedom-- begged for it. Every fiber of their being desired it.

Victor, too, desired freedom.

And yet he desired it more.


"MOVE YOUR FRAGILE BODIES OR I WILL SHATTER THEM."
The Eldest roared, shoulder dropping and pace quickening as he rushed towards the twin doors; upon contact, a great crash echoed throughout the corridor, followed by the inevitable creak and snap of weakened metal. Victor's body pressed upon the entryway to the elevator's pit with insurmountable force, the very contact of his shoulder upon the surface leaving striations and cracks upon the tile which surrounded the doorway. A moment of his strength was all that was needed to break through, a sizable gap now forced between the two slabs of metal as he rushed out into the depths of the pit, his hands shooting out to grab onto the concrete ledges which were littered amongst the vacant elevator shaft.

And so, he began to climb, his liberation all but confirmed by his hand, and his hand alone.

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