[Part 6 - Fin:] Poo-Tee-Weet?

[Eleatic 1033]

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIHRgisdbeY

 

The smell of death, of boiled blood and shite permeated the room like a sickly magic, sucking at the life of the few beings within (Figuratively). A suit of armor with the charred and bloodied remains of a father lay in the corner, its' black glinting in the ether of darkness. The man within looked up, a bird. Or a hallucination  either way, it spoke to him in the darkness. "Poo-Tee-Weet?" it asked inanely, and the man looked up, smiling his last smile. "Yes." His head rolled back, and he began to think what he could do to escape. He tried to move his arms, and he sighed.

 

He cringed. Iron bars were shoved through, An infection might set in.. He thought in his precarious way. He smirked, Too late for that. He pontificated in the armor, if he had learned magic this wouldn't have happened. He could've cast fireballs...or..No. It was far too late for any of that, he considered to himself as his mind slowly sulked off, the bird, hallucination, Whatever!. Waded down, onto his eyes. Pecking onto them, it waddled to his ear, and asked in a more poignant way. "Poo-Tee-Weet?", Verin gritted his teeth, and fell, and the bird kissing his mouth before flying off, fading into the realms of death as his mind did as well. So it goes, and as it was.

 

The armor awoke, torment roared across it like a torrent. It rose its' gauntlets, it looks down, it tried to move it's head, the helmet did. It grappled at its' insides, trying to get out. It didn't manage to do anything. It roared a loud, hissed roar filled with hatred.  SERVE, KILL, SERVE, KILL, KILL, KILL. The orders echoed throughout his mind, a command that he could not disobey. The room was shut in with stone, but the orders were stronger, the hatred. He lifted his gauntlets  slamming them onto the wall, and it fell. Feel like dirt beneath his strength and anger, he was promised that, and it delivered. The room lay quiet. His boiled blood on a stool, and he continued outward, the stairs creaked under his weight. He found his way out as he had come in, and he sat. Awaiting the orders other, he was a thrall. A vessel of his lord. He knew this, he accepted this, for he had no choice. 

 

Decided I needed to write stuff again, this occurred about 1-IC year ago. Any opinion is appreciated.

[iris1612 1780]

Meep. 

 

In all seriousness, this is a very well written post

 

 

[lιoɴ 248]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.