09-16-2008, 07:45 AM
[html]mall-caps;color:#770000;font-family:verdana;font-size:10px;">there sat a seven-headed beast, ten horns raised from his head
The disease he had contracted had begun to take hold, throwing the coyote into a deeper state of madness than he'd been bred thus far. Saliva dripping from his lips, jaws working at nothing as breath sawed raggedly through his lungs. Feverish and mad, he lay in the back of the cave he and Molochai had once shared, torn apart by random body spasms. Suddenly, he rose, steps labored and body weak and limp, yet unwilling to cease and allow death to take him. He was dying. He believed he was dying. He could see the Shadows waiting to take him, reaching for him with elongated fingers that didn't belong to this plane of reality.
Suddenly, they all vanished as a Light overtook the world. They screeched and feel back, Samael falling to the earth in Fear and reverence toward the Being. It was so beautiful, he could feel the tears seeping from his eyes as he wept, for he'd almost believed he'd never see the Angel again. He told him what he must do, and Samael believed, rising again to his feet without a second thought. The Angel was the One, the way and the light. He could not disobey the Angel. He would not disobey the Angel, even if it meant his own death. For Death did not bring fear to Samael. Death was only returning home, and if he could fulfill the Angel's work, he would be satisfied.
And so he walked, abandoning Inferni and everything it meant behind him, turning toward the wilderness and the open, unknown land beyond—words on his lips in another tongue that burned like fire in the air, uncaring of anything but the work the Angel had set out for him to complete.
And so Samael Lykoi departed from 'Souls.[/html]
The disease he had contracted had begun to take hold, throwing the coyote into a deeper state of madness than he'd been bred thus far. Saliva dripping from his lips, jaws working at nothing as breath sawed raggedly through his lungs. Feverish and mad, he lay in the back of the cave he and Molochai had once shared, torn apart by random body spasms. Suddenly, he rose, steps labored and body weak and limp, yet unwilling to cease and allow death to take him. He was dying. He believed he was dying. He could see the Shadows waiting to take him, reaching for him with elongated fingers that didn't belong to this plane of reality.
Suddenly, they all vanished as a Light overtook the world. They screeched and feel back, Samael falling to the earth in Fear and reverence toward the Being. It was so beautiful, he could feel the tears seeping from his eyes as he wept, for he'd almost believed he'd never see the Angel again. He told him what he must do, and Samael believed, rising again to his feet without a second thought. The Angel was the One, the way and the light. He could not disobey the Angel. He would not disobey the Angel, even if it meant his own death. For Death did not bring fear to Samael. Death was only returning home, and if he could fulfill the Angel's work, he would be satisfied.
And so he walked, abandoning Inferni and everything it meant behind him, turning toward the wilderness and the open, unknown land beyond—words on his lips in another tongue that burned like fire in the air, uncaring of anything but the work the Angel had set out for him to complete.
And so Samael Lykoi departed from 'Souls.[/html]
09-16-2008, 01:32 PM
[html]
indent The smell had been the signal. It was all too familiar, sickly-sweet like decomposition in a field of flowers. All of the scent had come from Samael, and Gabriel knew that he was dying. So he had watched him walk through the Waste, staggering, tripping, speaking in tongues. Gabriel followed behind him like a shadow, an unwanted storm cloud. This went on for well over half an hour, and then Samael crossed that invisible line at the end of the world.
indent And as he had when his mother vanished into the wilderness (and perhaps to her own death), Gabriel sat on the edge of that great divide until the sun rose. He knew then, as he had known before, that he would never see Samael again.
indent The smell had been the signal. It was all too familiar, sickly-sweet like decomposition in a field of flowers. All of the scent had come from Samael, and Gabriel knew that he was dying. So he had watched him walk through the Waste, staggering, tripping, speaking in tongues. Gabriel followed behind him like a shadow, an unwanted storm cloud. This went on for well over half an hour, and then Samael crossed that invisible line at the end of the world.
indent And as he had when his mother vanished into the wilderness (and perhaps to her own death), Gabriel sat on the edge of that great divide until the sun rose. He knew then, as he had known before, that he would never see Samael again.