The Investigator

I will be updating this, at the very least, 2-3 times a week.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Aensa: Dream

Again, there she stood in the center of this war, fluttering overhead that constantly blackened out the moon, and the castle, not far off in the distance, had fiery tendrils slipping out each window. The smoke was thick enough that she gagged in trying to catch her breath as she ran towards the flickering flames, the stench of burning flesh hanging heavily in the air. Everything blurred and swam around her as each crystalline blue orb watered with the stinging pain of the darkness in the air. Over bodies she jumped, over bodies, swords, horses sprawled over the ground, dogs yipping not far off in the distance. Or were they wolves? She never could be certain at this distance.

And still she ran, clutching, clutching, what was that again? The metal claw. That weapon from long ago that was stolen from her by some enraged woman. And in trade she received, what, a smattering of opium? She called out, waving the item above her head, screaming out a name she didn't even recognize. And suddenly, the war was over, just like that. The bells droned and she stood there in the field of massacre, the smells of the blood and the flesh burning to intense for even her. And then there was the rotting decay in the humid summer night air. She gagged. She tried desperately to keep down the bile that rose in her throat, and with a thought, fingers fluttered upwards to clench over both nose and mouth. But she couldn't cover her eyes. Bodies lie everywhere in guard uniform, in enemy attire, decapitated, disemboweled, sliced and diced by some horrendous weapon. She glanced down to the claw that now lie snapped upon her arm, the shimmer even in the faint moon's glow enough to take her mind off the bodies all around. And suddenly, with a jolt, it released, flying out towards the only movement, the only noise she heard. Her lips fell open as a silent cry whipped forth. She killed them all, didn't she? With the 'chink' of the chains rolling back into place, she lurched forward as the claw seemed to be dragging something along with its retreat from the bloody fields. She couldn't do much more than wait, the smoke still brash in the darkness, only allowing her to see inches of the chain at a time. finally, there it was, a woman at the end of the line.

The woman lay limp on the other end of the claw, more or less slumping over the chains that were still held taught in place. She was a fair woman, not looking too old at all, long silver streaked black hair falling over more of her face then less. The clothing she wore...she looked like nothing more than a woman soldier. Nothing more. But she was more. It took Aensa's scrutiny for more than five minutes to note the small tiara like crown upon the woman's head. With a stuttering gasp she tried to drop the claw, tried to force it out of her grip, away from her. She desperately tried to get the weapon to release its grip to no avail. She was stuck with this murderous weapon and the royalty on the other side. Tears streamed down her face as the yipping came closer, surrounding her, all around her. It wasn't the yip of a dog, but instead that of wolves that now came from every crevice of the dark, the smoke lifting just enough so she could see them all feasting on the bodies.

Then they tore apart. Each wolf seemed to explode leaving a man in its place. She counted, what she could, and found one third of the men to have wings growing from their back. Those men seemed more to enjoy the entrails of the fallen which caused her again to waver a hand to her mouth to keep the rising vomit from spewing forth. The rest, they seemed more to enjoy bathing and supping on the vital fluid of each of the fallen. 'Vampire.' The name rang in her head before she closed her eyes, swallowing harshly at the burning lump in her throat. Her hand clamped tighter to her mouth before she managed to open her icy blue visage once again only to see a darkly clad man chanting a war cry for his beloved come streaking through the dark, through the bodies and crunching bones, through flickering flames of the building. Her lips parted in a sudden jolting cry as she braced herself, her one free hand trying to find a weapon upon her person. Nothing.

Mid jump, mid pounce, mid attack, golden flickers filled the air, roiling, roiling in the darkness, filtering, spinning, whizzing in a noise that hurt her ears. And suddenly, the man's paranoid face was captured within the confines of the golden cube that slowly shrunk, slowly filtered down, flitted down from the sky to fall before her feet.

"The Cube of Noth...” came her breathless whisper, lower lip trembling as her brow furrowed. Laughter surrounded her. Harsh horrid laughter that shook the trees, lifted the clouding smoke, lifted the darkness and dampened the flames. Images flashed before her in the sudden enlightened state, images that hurt her head, hurt her mind, hurt her heart.