To Ashes - Prologue part III
Posted 09-08-2009 at 09:37 AM by Grimspective
“O-Owen.” Anita whispered as the two creatures flanked the car. She turned in her seat and tried to reach him. Her tiny fingers trying desperately to grab hold of her beloved brother, but the seat belt kept her just out of reach. Owen stared at her curiously. He giggled and shook his fist with his teddy bear in his hand as he thought his sister was playing a game. Anita heard a smash and looked behind her to see a gloved hand reaching for her, coated in blades. She screamed and turned back to Owen.
“Don’t forget me, but please don’t remember this, just forget it all happened Owen. It never happened,” She tried to sooth Owen, her voice shaking with hysteria as she fought back the tears and the overwhelming terror that she was about to be slain.
“Please Owen forget this happened and be happy the rest of your life,” she begged more to the heavens than to the child who was no longer smiling. Still she reached for him, straining against everything just to touch him. Owen finally reached out a pudgy little hand to grasp his sister’s fingers, trying so close but still just out of reach. He tried and tried, perhaps sensing the distress of his sister he began to get frustrated and try harder. Her face full of fear and concern, but then with a tearing sound followed by a popping noise all the expression slid from Anita’s face. The bright light that had once danced happily in her eyes flickered and faded away as the life flowed out of her. Her hand began to droop and the infant finally caught it. It slipped through his fingers and a ruby smudge was left on his tiny hand. Anita’s limp fingers came to rest on Owen’s teddy bear soaking its leg in blood. Owen began to wail and scream in terror as he stared at his hand.
Alexander’s long mane of hair fell over his eyes as he felt the life trickle out of him. He heard the glass smash on his car and felt an overwhelming sadness. How could he have failed them? Why didn’t he have the strength to protect those most precious to him? These questions dragged his soul down the pit of the abyss and held him captive within his own despair.
“How does it feel to know that I have stripped you of all that you hold dear again? I have taken everything you had from you and you are powerless. This time I have even claimed your life,” Sepesch gloated, loudly as he squatted next to Alexander’s kneeling form. The comments filled Alexander with rage as his mind raced over images of his family, the picnics they had shared and all the times they had spent. His failure ensured the destruction of everything that was important.
Alexander felt the anger rising within him. Anger at Sepesch, anger at himself. He felt the energy flow back into him somehow. As though his rage fueled him now, and Sepesch without knowing it was stoking the flames of Alexander’s vengeance. He heard the scream of his baby Owen and that was all it took. The rage spilled over him and he was lost to it. Something vile and thick pumped through him now. Filling his veins and welling into his organs. The world seemed to slow and grow quiet, the wind died in mid-breath. Even the falling snow hung in the air as though the world and even time itself stopped to watch this unfold.
“What is this?” Sepesch asked bewildered. With a thunderous boom Alexander lifted his head, his long black hair falling about his face like daggers. His eyes dark and full of the fires of hell. Sepesch stared in fear as his foe stood and then was gone, as though he had never been there. He stood behind Bastion as he finished his dark deed. Alexander’s hand came down over Bastion’s face like a steel cage. His fingers gripping Bastion’s chin. Alexander wrenched upward viciously while applying pressure with his forearm on Bastion’s lower back. Resulting in Bastion being pulled off his feet flipped and crushed into the cold ground. Alexander then with his upheld fist finished his work on Bastion with a cruel but deadly accurate blow to Bastion’s spine. Alexander turned smoothly from his kneeling position over Bastion to the car window. On the other side stood a very terrified Lacedes. Alexander held out his palm and bolts of flame wrapped in blackness ripped from him through the air. With a roar of rage Alexander’s bolts struck Lacedes in the left shoulder, abdomen, and the right hip. They shot through her like spears. She staggered back a step. Her mouth open to scream the pain that wracked her body and blinded her rationality, but the blackness spread through her like wildfire and her lifeless form hit the snow silently, never to stir, never to cause misery to another again. Alexander spun and the back of his fist crashed into the side of Sepesch’s skull, sending him to the ground. Alexander stood over him, heaving, his fingers flexing as if waiting to crush the very life out of Sepesch. Sepesch stared into the eyes of his enemy and realized no life was contained within. He was animated by the spirit of his love for his family. His sheer will to protect them animated his lifeless body as it lingered within.
“Alexander,” Sepesch said with a softness he had not known he was still capable of. A flood of memories rushed him and he was taken back to a time before, before the fighting, before Sepesch, A time when he was Michael. The red of his iris’ flickered but only for a moment. Sepesch stood and drew a silver blade.
“This is the end Alexander, sleep in peace,” Sepesch said unusually solemn. He had not expected this when he had spent all those hours obsessing over this moment. Sepesch swung at Alexander but, Alexander ducked, grabbed the spine of the blade and pulled Sepesch into a waiting fist, that exploded into Sepesch’s stomach. Sepesch gagged as he fell to his knees. Alexander stood over him and reached down. Sepesch fell forward and kicked Alexander in the side of the neck. Alexander fell flat on his back and Sepesch ended their decades long battle by pinning him to the ground with his blade. Pierced through the heart Alexander sighed with finality and ceased to move.
“A warrior to the last, as well as loyal, go with honor....” The last word was inaudible as he muttered it to himself. Sepesch turned towards the car and reached inside for the tiny infant. As he reached in Owen reached out and grasped Sepesch. No longer afraid Owen’s anger showed on his infantile face.
“Let go,” Sepesch said unconcerned as he tried to pull away only to find that Owen’s grip was like a steel trap, Sepesch suddenly very concerned tried vainly to pull his arm away. Pain exploded within him, stemming from his wrist throughout his entire body. Before the white hot pain blinded him he saw his hand engulfed in blackness, and the blackness was crawling, slowly swallowing Sepesch. He yelled in agony as his legs gave out on him and he fell. Still his grip was unrelenting. Tugging insanely Sepesch knew he couldn’t hold out much longer, then just before he passed out, Owen let go. Sepesch threw himself backward from the car and the unbelievable baby. He crawled back in terror on his remaining good arm, before disappearing on the winds.
And so Owen was left alone, his father and sister slain. He wept alone, stranded in the forests of Maine. He wept to be held and comforted which would not come for many hours. He was alone, on his fourth birthday.
“Don’t forget me, but please don’t remember this, just forget it all happened Owen. It never happened,” She tried to sooth Owen, her voice shaking with hysteria as she fought back the tears and the overwhelming terror that she was about to be slain.
“Please Owen forget this happened and be happy the rest of your life,” she begged more to the heavens than to the child who was no longer smiling. Still she reached for him, straining against everything just to touch him. Owen finally reached out a pudgy little hand to grasp his sister’s fingers, trying so close but still just out of reach. He tried and tried, perhaps sensing the distress of his sister he began to get frustrated and try harder. Her face full of fear and concern, but then with a tearing sound followed by a popping noise all the expression slid from Anita’s face. The bright light that had once danced happily in her eyes flickered and faded away as the life flowed out of her. Her hand began to droop and the infant finally caught it. It slipped through his fingers and a ruby smudge was left on his tiny hand. Anita’s limp fingers came to rest on Owen’s teddy bear soaking its leg in blood. Owen began to wail and scream in terror as he stared at his hand.
Alexander’s long mane of hair fell over his eyes as he felt the life trickle out of him. He heard the glass smash on his car and felt an overwhelming sadness. How could he have failed them? Why didn’t he have the strength to protect those most precious to him? These questions dragged his soul down the pit of the abyss and held him captive within his own despair.
“How does it feel to know that I have stripped you of all that you hold dear again? I have taken everything you had from you and you are powerless. This time I have even claimed your life,” Sepesch gloated, loudly as he squatted next to Alexander’s kneeling form. The comments filled Alexander with rage as his mind raced over images of his family, the picnics they had shared and all the times they had spent. His failure ensured the destruction of everything that was important.
Alexander felt the anger rising within him. Anger at Sepesch, anger at himself. He felt the energy flow back into him somehow. As though his rage fueled him now, and Sepesch without knowing it was stoking the flames of Alexander’s vengeance. He heard the scream of his baby Owen and that was all it took. The rage spilled over him and he was lost to it. Something vile and thick pumped through him now. Filling his veins and welling into his organs. The world seemed to slow and grow quiet, the wind died in mid-breath. Even the falling snow hung in the air as though the world and even time itself stopped to watch this unfold.
“What is this?” Sepesch asked bewildered. With a thunderous boom Alexander lifted his head, his long black hair falling about his face like daggers. His eyes dark and full of the fires of hell. Sepesch stared in fear as his foe stood and then was gone, as though he had never been there. He stood behind Bastion as he finished his dark deed. Alexander’s hand came down over Bastion’s face like a steel cage. His fingers gripping Bastion’s chin. Alexander wrenched upward viciously while applying pressure with his forearm on Bastion’s lower back. Resulting in Bastion being pulled off his feet flipped and crushed into the cold ground. Alexander then with his upheld fist finished his work on Bastion with a cruel but deadly accurate blow to Bastion’s spine. Alexander turned smoothly from his kneeling position over Bastion to the car window. On the other side stood a very terrified Lacedes. Alexander held out his palm and bolts of flame wrapped in blackness ripped from him through the air. With a roar of rage Alexander’s bolts struck Lacedes in the left shoulder, abdomen, and the right hip. They shot through her like spears. She staggered back a step. Her mouth open to scream the pain that wracked her body and blinded her rationality, but the blackness spread through her like wildfire and her lifeless form hit the snow silently, never to stir, never to cause misery to another again. Alexander spun and the back of his fist crashed into the side of Sepesch’s skull, sending him to the ground. Alexander stood over him, heaving, his fingers flexing as if waiting to crush the very life out of Sepesch. Sepesch stared into the eyes of his enemy and realized no life was contained within. He was animated by the spirit of his love for his family. His sheer will to protect them animated his lifeless body as it lingered within.
“Alexander,” Sepesch said with a softness he had not known he was still capable of. A flood of memories rushed him and he was taken back to a time before, before the fighting, before Sepesch, A time when he was Michael. The red of his iris’ flickered but only for a moment. Sepesch stood and drew a silver blade.
“This is the end Alexander, sleep in peace,” Sepesch said unusually solemn. He had not expected this when he had spent all those hours obsessing over this moment. Sepesch swung at Alexander but, Alexander ducked, grabbed the spine of the blade and pulled Sepesch into a waiting fist, that exploded into Sepesch’s stomach. Sepesch gagged as he fell to his knees. Alexander stood over him and reached down. Sepesch fell forward and kicked Alexander in the side of the neck. Alexander fell flat on his back and Sepesch ended their decades long battle by pinning him to the ground with his blade. Pierced through the heart Alexander sighed with finality and ceased to move.
“A warrior to the last, as well as loyal, go with honor....” The last word was inaudible as he muttered it to himself. Sepesch turned towards the car and reached inside for the tiny infant. As he reached in Owen reached out and grasped Sepesch. No longer afraid Owen’s anger showed on his infantile face.
“Let go,” Sepesch said unconcerned as he tried to pull away only to find that Owen’s grip was like a steel trap, Sepesch suddenly very concerned tried vainly to pull his arm away. Pain exploded within him, stemming from his wrist throughout his entire body. Before the white hot pain blinded him he saw his hand engulfed in blackness, and the blackness was crawling, slowly swallowing Sepesch. He yelled in agony as his legs gave out on him and he fell. Still his grip was unrelenting. Tugging insanely Sepesch knew he couldn’t hold out much longer, then just before he passed out, Owen let go. Sepesch threw himself backward from the car and the unbelievable baby. He crawled back in terror on his remaining good arm, before disappearing on the winds.
And so Owen was left alone, his father and sister slain. He wept alone, stranded in the forests of Maine. He wept to be held and comforted which would not come for many hours. He was alone, on his fourth birthday.
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