Nathan glanced at Jones before looking straight ahead at the black sky. Rain fell like tiny drops of lead, hitting the floor with an unrivaled intensity. The lead drops dug away at the road, making it muddy and making it incredibly difficult to traverse. The automobile slid slightly to the left and right, almost spinning out of control. Finally, Jones stopped the car in front of another dock. He cocked his head and turned to face Nathan.
"My boy, I don't like it when strangers ask about m' business. I'll advise ye to stop befer I get angry. Now, then, let's get out." Nathan was disturbed at the behavior of Jones, and had many thoughts of running away. However, rationality got the best of him, and he get out of the car to follow Jones. He placed his feet on the muddy earth and circumscribed the automobile. Jones walked heavily, his feet hitting the floor in indescribable anger. He turned his head around to give Nathan a deathly stare and continued on. They both strolled on in uncomfortable silence. The rain bore heavily upon them, only adding more tension.
After what seemed like aeons of searching aimlessly for some magnificent location, Jones stopped. He said nothing nor did he speak. Nathan, somewhat concerned, asked, "Jones, are you alright?" Jones gave no reply. Again, Nathan asked, despondent, "Jones, please say something. Anything will suffice." Jones's eyes widened, and suddenly turned completely black. He began to mutter:
"By the gods, old and new, I pray for ye to come to our aid. I invoke but a name most holy. May your hand, lord, come down upon us and show us our fate..." Jones continue on while Nathan listened frightfully. However, it was not that speech that gave Nathan the chills, rather, it was what Jones continued on to say. Jones started to speak in unreproducible tongues, and Nathan could only understand some of it.
"Haruch danug jeytus nemius. Kom beyanka hiter nedach kai teru gesug beyanka. Shew vir eur haand, kai bekomm vir eur tuur."
The rain continued, albeit heavier, but otherwise there was no extraordinary development. Jones slouched and stood in place for aeons. The harsh weather began to respond to the ghastly language that Jones used because it began to grow unbearable. The torrential downpour caught Nathan off-guard for his legs gave way. Regaining his balance, Nathan managed a meager yelp, "Jones, what in God's holy name are you doing? You're making matters only worse."
"Just ye wait," was Jones's only reply. Without any rhyme or reason, the rain ceased. The once drenched landscape now became most arid and comfortable. Jones turned to Nathan and said, "Nate, you've seen what I can do. Those tings, those terrible, murderous beings were summoned through my own fault, ye hear?" Jones's hand began to twitch in a disturbing fashion. Nathan backed away in horror as the convulsions grew worse. Jones's hand now seemed grotesque to Nathan as his eyes grew in fear. Grasping his temples, Nathan fell to the floor, writhing in unearthly pain. He pressed his fingers into his temples hard enough to pierce the skin. Jones was unsure of what to do, but he could not let Nathan destroy himself, so he tried to pry Nathan's hands away from his temples. Pulling as hard as he can, he eventually managed to end this streak of apparent illness. However, Nathan was still acting as if he were under a spell. Jones picked him up and slowly made his way over to the automobile. He softly placed Nathan in the passenger's side.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Chapter Two -- Section Four
Nathan turned to the old captain, and he looked into the captain’s eyes once again. His thin masquerades opened greatly and now resembled those of an owl. The winds kicked up, whirling past Nathan and the captain and ruffling their clothing. The already dilapidated pier was now gradually crumbling due to the violent waves. The indescribable beasts waded slowly to the shore. Onto the green ground they trotted, waving their fish-like hands in the air like madmen. The captain grabbed Nathan’s shoulder and pulled him as he ran towards an automobile parked close to the road.
“This automobile is mine. Come on, sonny, get in,” shouted the captain, “We need t’get outta here befer those bastards get us.”
Nathan jumped through the window, landing awkwardly in his seat. The captain allowed a few seconds for Nathan to fix his posture before turning on the engine and riding off. The captain drove frantically onto the road, looking behind him to scout out the location of the sea-beasts. They were still far behind. The captain turned to Nathan and said:
“You can call me Jones.”
Nathan nodded and looked down at his feet. His bag was between his stiff legs. Nathan loosened up and the bag dropped to the floor of the automobile. He turned to Jones and told him that his name was Nathan. Jones was not one for being formal, so he insisted that Nathan should go by Nat or Nate. Nathan did not like either, but Jones decided he would call him Nat. After a few moments of silence, Jones turned to Nathan and said:
“Those tings we saw back there, they were my fault.”
Nathan replied, “What? How so?”
“I called ‘em up from th’ deep. Those disgusting children of Poseidon…” Jones trailed off. He looked forward at the road. It seemed to run on forever, leading the two of them to insanity. Trees adorned the sides of the road along with bushes and the occasional spattering of dying flowers. Jones looked out of the window at the sea. The grey waves crashed against the side of the cliff, etching its presence there forever. Again Nathan inquired:
“How did you call those…things?”
“Aye, I can’t tell ye. ‘Tis a secret my family carried through generations. It would be sacrilege to tell anyone.”
Flustered, Nathan spat, “Sacrilege? Those infernal sea-beasts slaughtered an entire port city and you think it’s sacrilege to tell me how you are responsible?”
Jones looked into Nathan’s eyes and then turned forward again. He answered simply, “Yes.”
“This automobile is mine. Come on, sonny, get in,” shouted the captain, “We need t’get outta here befer those bastards get us.”
Nathan jumped through the window, landing awkwardly in his seat. The captain allowed a few seconds for Nathan to fix his posture before turning on the engine and riding off. The captain drove frantically onto the road, looking behind him to scout out the location of the sea-beasts. They were still far behind. The captain turned to Nathan and said:
“You can call me Jones.”
Nathan nodded and looked down at his feet. His bag was between his stiff legs. Nathan loosened up and the bag dropped to the floor of the automobile. He turned to Jones and told him that his name was Nathan. Jones was not one for being formal, so he insisted that Nathan should go by Nat or Nate. Nathan did not like either, but Jones decided he would call him Nat. After a few moments of silence, Jones turned to Nathan and said:
“Those tings we saw back there, they were my fault.”
Nathan replied, “What? How so?”
“I called ‘em up from th’ deep. Those disgusting children of Poseidon…” Jones trailed off. He looked forward at the road. It seemed to run on forever, leading the two of them to insanity. Trees adorned the sides of the road along with bushes and the occasional spattering of dying flowers. Jones looked out of the window at the sea. The grey waves crashed against the side of the cliff, etching its presence there forever. Again Nathan inquired:
“How did you call those…things?”
“Aye, I can’t tell ye. ‘Tis a secret my family carried through generations. It would be sacrilege to tell anyone.”
Flustered, Nathan spat, “Sacrilege? Those infernal sea-beasts slaughtered an entire port city and you think it’s sacrilege to tell me how you are responsible?”
Jones looked into Nathan’s eyes and then turned forward again. He answered simply, “Yes.”
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Chapter Two - Section Three
Nathan slowly maneuvered to the long dark bend that lay in front of him. It’s foreboding presence only grew heavier as Nathan got closer. Though he had a loaded shotgun in his hands, the weapon did nothing to console him. Watching his fellow man being slaughtered in front of his eyes did nothing but harm his psyche. The trees grew larger as he wandered ever closer. Their omniscient eyes were all fixated on Nathan, never relenting as he invaded their territory. Suddenly, Nathan heard slow crushing footsteps sounding from behind the trees. He heard twigs snapping and leaves crumbling underneath feet which were not human. Heavy and monolithic, the steps grew louder. Nathan froze. He frantically looked in all directions around him, desperately looking for the source of the noise, but this was to no avail. Instead of waiting to find out what exactly caused the noise, Nathan bolted for the bend. Away he ran, past the foreboding trees with their punishing, omniscient eyes, away he ran from the dark and now deserted town, and away he ran from the monstrous spawn of Poseidon that killed many innocent folk.
The road seemed to go on forever. He came to winding sections after winding sections. He heard no more footsteps behind him but his own. Nathan put down his bag and pulled out some provisions. He took a bite of a blood-red apple, the juices flowed down his lips onto the pale grass below. Suddenly, a distant sound captured his attention. He looked in the general direction whence the sound erupted. It occurred again, this time Nathan could make out some distinct qualities; it was similar to that of wood snapping, only amplified. It did not make any sense. However, still poised, Nathan decided against his common sense and trekked over to the location whence the sound was born. Clenching his shotgun tightly, he peered over some tall rocks to see farther. He could not see anything. Farther he proceeded, ever so cautiously until he heard the snapping of wood again, still just as loud. As he walked closer to the origin of the noise, he noticed a dock, made of wooden planks. Waves crashed against the pillars holding up the dock. More and more of the pillars snapped from wear, tear, and age. Shafts of wood fell into the black sea, leaving no trace of their previous existence.
On the edge of a dock stood an elderly gentleman, about seventy years of age. He had hair as white as a ghost and severely tanned skin. He had the appearance and bearing of an old sea salt. He wore a navy blue overcoat with gray trousers. He looked like an ordinary captain, but his eyes were weathered gray. They were but voids into barren thought. His lips curled in disgust as he spat into the ocean and turned around. He looked at Nathan for a second and said:
"Go away. Poseidon's wrath is here, escape while ye can. It won't be pretty, I assure ye, son."
"Sorry, sir, captain, may I ask what you are doing here?"
The old salt replied condescendingly, "Whaddya tink? I'm watching my precious sea being swaller'd up by Poseidon himself. The ole' bastard's out to get us."
Nathan thought the old man was insane, but considering what he saw back at the town, he was willing to humor the old man. He inquired simply:
"Why?"
"'Cuz he hadn't been worshiped for thousands o' years, now he's out to get us. Ye've seen those disgusting faceless creatures back at the Wharf, aye?"
"Yes, I have. Now what does that have to do with-?"
The old man interjected, "It has everyting to do with this damned mess. Those slimy bastards are nothing but pain 'nd death. That old shanty shotgun o' yers won't do a damn ting to them. Give it up, sonny."
Sorrow and regret filled his eyes. His voids opened wide as he began to stutter uncontrollably. Out in the distance I could make out some humanoid figures. The walked up out of the water onto the shore. They had no faces.
The road seemed to go on forever. He came to winding sections after winding sections. He heard no more footsteps behind him but his own. Nathan put down his bag and pulled out some provisions. He took a bite of a blood-red apple, the juices flowed down his lips onto the pale grass below. Suddenly, a distant sound captured his attention. He looked in the general direction whence the sound erupted. It occurred again, this time Nathan could make out some distinct qualities; it was similar to that of wood snapping, only amplified. It did not make any sense. However, still poised, Nathan decided against his common sense and trekked over to the location whence the sound was born. Clenching his shotgun tightly, he peered over some tall rocks to see farther. He could not see anything. Farther he proceeded, ever so cautiously until he heard the snapping of wood again, still just as loud. As he walked closer to the origin of the noise, he noticed a dock, made of wooden planks. Waves crashed against the pillars holding up the dock. More and more of the pillars snapped from wear, tear, and age. Shafts of wood fell into the black sea, leaving no trace of their previous existence.
On the edge of a dock stood an elderly gentleman, about seventy years of age. He had hair as white as a ghost and severely tanned skin. He had the appearance and bearing of an old sea salt. He wore a navy blue overcoat with gray trousers. He looked like an ordinary captain, but his eyes were weathered gray. They were but voids into barren thought. His lips curled in disgust as he spat into the ocean and turned around. He looked at Nathan for a second and said:
"Go away. Poseidon's wrath is here, escape while ye can. It won't be pretty, I assure ye, son."
"Sorry, sir, captain, may I ask what you are doing here?"
The old salt replied condescendingly, "Whaddya tink? I'm watching my precious sea being swaller'd up by Poseidon himself. The ole' bastard's out to get us."
Nathan thought the old man was insane, but considering what he saw back at the town, he was willing to humor the old man. He inquired simply:
"Why?"
"'Cuz he hadn't been worshiped for thousands o' years, now he's out to get us. Ye've seen those disgusting faceless creatures back at the Wharf, aye?"
"Yes, I have. Now what does that have to do with-?"
The old man interjected, "It has everyting to do with this damned mess. Those slimy bastards are nothing but pain 'nd death. That old shanty shotgun o' yers won't do a damn ting to them. Give it up, sonny."
Sorrow and regret filled his eyes. His voids opened wide as he began to stutter uncontrollably. Out in the distance I could make out some humanoid figures. The walked up out of the water onto the shore. They had no faces.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Chapter Two -- Section Two
Nathan had finished packing what he thought would be useful in escaping the port city. After witnesses several countable horros, he felt he had no choice but to leave before those decrepit and disgusting creatures lay their hands upon him. Wielding a shotgun, he felt somewhat safe but not assured completely. As he cocked the gun, he felt the casing drop to the floor menacingly. The echo of the metal against the cool, hard floorboards struck Nathan immensely. He was a little disturbed, but he must keep his cool lest he die like all the other unaware people in the town.
He quitely crept out from the door of the pub. He looked to his left: nothing but fog and a few streetlights. He then look right: it was the main road, the way to salvation. Dotted along the side of the road were some homes, none of which look liked they were the victim of the monsterous invasion, thus it was safer to take that route. Along he scrawled about the side of the road, ever vigilant. He walked no more than fifteen meters when he heard hard footsteps in the distance behind him. The steps grew heavier and more numerous with every step Nathan took. He turned around to see the creatures have made their way for the homes on the side. In fear and disgust, he watched hopelessly as about forty beasts crammed into one home. Blood splattered on the attic garret. Blood ran through the walls, seeping out onto the side of the home. The atmosphere grew more punishing as he watched his fellow man slaughtered like nothing better than the ordinary farm animal.
"Sickening. Just absolutely horrifying. I cannot watch, I cannot. I must move on, move foreward." That was Nathan's mantra. He repeated it to himself as he slowly made his way towards the end of the main road. He found himself at a bend in the road. Their were trees decorating both sides of the road, thus he could not tell what lay behind them. Making this turn was dangerous but necessary. His heart pounded, harder and harder it pounded as his feet magnetically made their way to the bend. He could see freedom, but he could sense death.
He quitely crept out from the door of the pub. He looked to his left: nothing but fog and a few streetlights. He then look right: it was the main road, the way to salvation. Dotted along the side of the road were some homes, none of which look liked they were the victim of the monsterous invasion, thus it was safer to take that route. Along he scrawled about the side of the road, ever vigilant. He walked no more than fifteen meters when he heard hard footsteps in the distance behind him. The steps grew heavier and more numerous with every step Nathan took. He turned around to see the creatures have made their way for the homes on the side. In fear and disgust, he watched hopelessly as about forty beasts crammed into one home. Blood splattered on the attic garret. Blood ran through the walls, seeping out onto the side of the home. The atmosphere grew more punishing as he watched his fellow man slaughtered like nothing better than the ordinary farm animal.
"Sickening. Just absolutely horrifying. I cannot watch, I cannot. I must move on, move foreward." That was Nathan's mantra. He repeated it to himself as he slowly made his way towards the end of the main road. He found himself at a bend in the road. Their were trees decorating both sides of the road, thus he could not tell what lay behind them. Making this turn was dangerous but necessary. His heart pounded, harder and harder it pounded as his feet magnetically made their way to the bend. He could see freedom, but he could sense death.
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