Chapter 0 - Do The Dead Dare Walk the Earth Before My Eyes?
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Ask of Me, and I Shall Give Thee a Heathen's Inheritance
Chapter 0 - Do The Dead Dare Walk the Earth Before My Eyes?
“Thirty more minutes Flash, just keep it together....”
Normally, Flash Sentry wasn't one to complain about garden patrol. Far from it actually, as he'd always found the silence rather calming, peaceful. But ever since Discord’s escape, and the subsequent tirade of chaos, the gardens had rapidly become a creepy, unsettling place to be, especially at night. For one, the gardens were almost empty save for the few other guardponies who patrolled the maze-like hedges. The presence of the statues, all of which were now a very serious threat, as they could each be containing some kind of ungodly monster or another, only added to the anxiety of the situation.
Of course, that didn’t mean the statues weren’t intimidating enough already; large “sculptures” of demons, monsters, high-profile criminals and the like, all of which were stuck in aggressive poses with fiercer expressions, always seemed ready to leap out and kill whoever was fool enough to let their guard down for too long.
Now, of course, with the possibility of that being reality, and with Discord's breakout having occurred barely a month ago, the fear they instilled was marginally greater, and the silent threat of an imminent demise hanging over Flash Sentry's head like a dark rain cloud.
Even still, with how nervous these figures made him, Flash Sentry made to pass the time by reading the plaques as he passed by each mounted pedestal; a pastime he enjoyed as much as he was discomforted by it.
“Discord...King Sombra... Gildamesh the Conqueror...the Shadowmane...Tirek....the Zealot...” He stopped dead in his tracks and turned back, resting his eyes on the pedestal he had just passed. The short, wide marble slab with the plaque reading “The Zealot” was one that he passed on every patrol, and the statute upon it were ingrained in his memory.
Flash Sentry was no stranger to old stories and fables, so he knew that the statue before him portrayed what mythology recognized as a “hue-man”, and judging by its build, Flash assumed that it was male.
The human male stood tall, at roughly six and a half feet with short, ragged hair. In each hand, he held a bayonet, crossed in front of him in a vaguely plus shaped fashion; a similar symbol hung from a necklace around the hue-man's neck, barely visible beneath its extensively long trench-coat. Itd face was hidden behind the shadow of its arm, save for the manic, wide-mouthed grin, baring its for all the world to see.
This was not the first time The Zealot had drawn Flash Sentry's attention. Discord aside, it was the most interesting creature here, to him at least. Also, the name given to the statue, the Zealot, meant that that in had an unwavering, fanatically passionate belief in some kind of principle. Flash had meant some of the ponies the worshiped Celestia, Luna, and even Princess Cadenza, and they could be called zealots, but they were not sealed in stone for their convictions. What beliefs did the Zealot hold that had made him such a threat to Equestria that Princess Celestia was forced to seal it away?
Flash Sentry would have pondered this more, but he was snapped out of his musings by the rustling of the hedges nearby. Grabbing his spear, Flash made his way over to the imposing rose bush wall, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of movement.
“Is anypony there?” he called.
Silence was his reply.
“The Royal Gardens are closed to visitors until tomorrow. If you come out now, I'll see you out. You won't be in any trouble.”
More silence.
“Okay, have it your way.” Snorting in irritation, Flash pulled himself up to full height and made his way into the hedge grove.
High above, perched on a ledge overlooking Royal Gardens, Crimson Goblet watched as the foolish guard made his way into the hedge maze, licking his chops in anticipation of his next meal.
And to think all it took was a little patience, timing, and the whimsical toss of a pebble to set the guard on edge. Goblet mused, his red, cat-like eyes flashing in the pale moonlight. I really should thank Discord for setting everyone on high alert.
Spreading his wings wide, Crimson Goblet hopped off the ledge, and swooping down into the maze with the stealth and precision that came with several decades of extensive practice.
Time to find out what the Guard's “fresh meat” tasted like.
Unbeknownst to either pegasus Solar Guard nor bloodsucking vampony, one entity was aware of their presence within the Gardens, as well as ones malicious intents therein. Within its hollow stone prison, the Nail began to stir, the presence of the its age old foe resonating with its existence.
As the remnant of an ancient miracle long forgotten, The Nail itself had been remade, re-purposed into an instrument of divine punishment. But just as a tool was useless without a hand to wield it, so to was the Nail useless without a hand to wield it, a body to warm it. A righteous soul to aim the loaded gun at its intended target and pull the trigger.
Time had robbed the Nail of its host; having been sealed away for so long, the human who had been its vessel had succumb to its earthly needs. Having been sealed away with the Nail, the human had suffocated within minutes of being sealed away, and the remains left to rot, until not but dust remained. Yet, even though his soul had shed its mortal coils, it still remained, bound in eternal service to the Nail.
Setting about its business, the Nail began reconstructing the vessel with which it would carry out its mission. Thick green vines filled the hollow stone visage, and when it was fit to burst, vines became bone, and once that was done, flesh. Skin covered muscles, and grew taut over a tanned, toned, muscular physique. Ragged, choppy, dirty blonde hair sprouted from a previously bald scalp. Piercing blue eyes, once dull and lifeless, shown with the inexplicable spark of life once more, and darted about in the darkness. The black robes of the order, unsung uniform to those who walked the path of Judas, the holy assassin among the disciples, were the last to form, ever fiber, ever stitch as primp and pristine as the day it was made.
Outside its humble home a little more than a millennium, the stone visage of the Zealot began to crack, thorn covered vines whipping and flailing about in anticipation of what was to come. Tainted blood would be spilled, it's reawakened thirst born of divine purpose would be sated for the first time in centuries. From one of the cracks that now riddles the once pristine statue, a slew of shrill, raspy voices growled at once:
Do ̶Th̸e ͏D̕ead ͠Da̡re̛ Wa̷lk͘ B̧efor̵e̛ ͡Mỳ ̛E̸yes̶?̕
Chapter 0 - Do The Dead Dare Walk the Earth Before My Eyes (Part 2)
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Ask of Me, and I Shall Give Thee a Heathen's Inheritance
Chapter 0 - Do The Dead Dare Walk the Earth Before My Eyes (Part 2)
“Hmm...maybe this wasn't such a good idea...” Flash Sentry said to himself, as he continued to make his way through the hedge maze that made up the interior of the Royal Gardens.
While on his search for the pony who'd decided to take a midnight stroll through the gardens, Flash had quickly found himself lost within the meticulously manicured walls of the green labyrinth. Normally, this wouldn't be bad; as a pegasus pony, Flash would have just flown over and out of the maze. That is, if magic dampeners and flight restrictors hadn't been placed throughout the entire Royal Gardens.
“For extra insurance, in case of another breakout” my right flank. Flash harrumphed, mentally parroting his commander. Sure go right ahead, not like some of us can fly, or us magic, or some craaazy thing like that.
Still, Flash couldn't help but berate himself for not going back to the guard station and grabbing a signal flare; at least then someone would know he was out here. Now, it was either find a way out, or wait until morning when the gardens were open to the public again and the flight restrictors were deactivated. And if that weren't enough, no matter how he tried to remember which way he went, Flash couldn’t seem to remember quite where the last turn was. Everything looked exactly identical, and had left him feeling like he was walking in circles, uncertain of which way to turn.
Oh, and look what we have here; another fork. Sighing for the umpteenth, Flash headed down the fork on his right, resuming his brisk trot through the endlessly zigzagging maze.
Dark clouds had begun to gather overhead, and after a few minutes, Flash found his only source of light quickly bloated out, plunging the shrubbery maze into an eerie darkness. Shadows cast under the moonlight grew all that much darker, and the whole garden seemed to have fallen deathly quiet. For Flash, it was just making a bad situation all that much worse; his heart started thudding in his chest, and his eyes darted in as many directions as they could.
His mind jumped back to the statues he'd been looking at but a few minutes ago, and the fact that each was a sculpture of very real creature, some of them that monsters that could, and would, love nothing more than to make a midnight snack out of him and anyone else dump enough to be caught on their own on here.
A rapid rustling from behind one of the bushy walls to his left snapped Flash out of his impending mental breakdown, as he whipped around, beads of sweat slowly rolling their way down his brow. Flash took a left at the next fork, picking up the pace as his mind continued to spew out thought after terrifying thought.
What if Flash wasn't the only one in here? What if one of the monsters sealed in stone really had escaped? If Discord did, which he most definitely had, that it wasn't entirely impossible.
Something whistled jarringly overhead, making him jump. Sucking in a yelp, Flash scanned the sky in a panic, but found nothing. Urged onward yet again, Flash found himself fighting the urge to simply begin digging through the walls in desperation.
It's all in your head, Flash. It's all in your head. Flash thought, repeating the phrase over and over in his head. Unfortunately, his fear had other plans.
Some of the creatures in the gardens had been known for truly monstrous deeds, how they took pleasure in the pain and suffering of others If memory serves right, Gildamesh was often referred to as the Warrior Queen of Griffonia. She'd single-hoofedly slaughtered Griffonia's original royal family, decorated her throne room with their pelts and mounted their heads on the walls. Anyone who refuted her right to rule was made an example of, impaled on a pike and their corpse put on display along the capital's main roads and entrances.
Violent swooshing caught his attention yet again, and once more he looked upward in nervousness only to find nothing. He nearly let out a breath of relief, Flash was cut short, as he felt a faint touch trail down his spine.
King Sombra, the Tyrant King of the Crystal Empire, had enslaved an entire race of pony, subjecting them to unimaginable pain and hardship. There were even rumors that, among the dark magics he held, Sombra had even stooped so low as to dabble in necromancy, subjecting them to untold horrors time and again, only to deny them even the bittersweet release of death.
Flash stood stoke-still, as his eyes frantically darted from place to place in a blur of movement. Every shadow now held a foreboding, downright ominous air about it, as if any second now, legions of monster from the blackest pits of Tartarus would swarm from within their darkened depths to drag him off into the night. To a slow, painful, grisly demise. Sweat practically poured off his body, matting his fur down with the scent of fear and impending doom.
They could be there right now. Around the next corner. Stalking you, hunting you. Watching...waiting.**
Flash couldn't help himself, as he whimpered in fear. Sweet Celestia, what have I gotten myself into?
“Hi!”
Yelping in surprise, as a voice from behind him cut through the silence like a hot knife through butter. Whipped around, Flash jumped a good six feet in the air when he saw a pair of catlike yellow eyes staring out at him from the darkness. For a split second, Flash found himself torn between his fight or flight instincts, unable to think clearly as he stared into the swirling pools of liquid gold, watching them flash wickedly from beneath the shadows.
“Sup?” the voice continued, “So what are y-”
“GAAHHH!”
“AAAHHH!”
The creature obscured by the shadows began to scream as soon as Flash did, it's eyes widening in alarm as each backpedaled away from the other, Flash falling on his rump as he did. The action itself confused Flash for a second, but- confusion quickly gave way to curiosity, as he squinted hard in the direction of the creatures eyes, trying hard to make out any details.
Sure enough, a vaguely pony-shaped silhouette could be seen as features became more and more apparent in the darkness; from the muscular build and square muzzle, Flash could tell it was a stallion. Next, Flash noticed the coat, dark gray, almost black fur blending in almost perfectly with the shadowy backdrop. A thick mane of dark blue hair hung down past his withers, and a pair of leathery, midnight blue bat winds were unfurled behind his back. Flash instantly recognized the pony as a thestral, or batpony, as they were commonly known.
“What the hell, dude!?! Why are you screaming?!” The batpony asked, his face twisted into a scowl as he glared daggers at the guardspony.
“Because you started screaming.”
“Wha-huh? I only did it because you screamed at me!”
“WELL, DUH! YOU SNUCK UP ON ME IN A MAZE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAMN NIGHT! FOR THAT MATTER, WHY THE BUCK ARE YOU EVEN HERE?!”
The anger that Flash felt, coupled with the fear-fueled adrenaline pumping through his veins, quickly crept into your voice without him meaning for it to. The batpony visibly wilted under his heated glare, but quickly got over to, drawing up to full height.
“Well, if you must know, I was on patrol, same as you.” he hissed. “While I was walking down the hall, I looked out the window and noticed something moving around in the Royal Gardens.” Flaring his wings, the batpony took a step forward. “I came down to investigate, and low and behold, I find you.”
The batpony quickly closed the distance between the two, and Flash found himself almost nose-to-nose with the creepy, somewhat intimidatinging thestral, his golden-eye causing Flash to visibly shrunk and trembled a bit under their heated glare.
“Care to explain?”
Every conscious thought seemed to have left Flash's mind all at once, as he opened and closed him mouth several times, his mind trying to process the strange turn of events.
“Ehem...uh, well I was on patrol, and while I was looking over one of the statue's, I heard some rustling in the bushes and decided to investigate. After that, I...um...” Flash sputtered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“After that you...What?” the batpony said, looking more curious than angry.
“Well, you see, while I was looking around, I may have....gotten a bit...lost...”
The batpony raised an eyebrow at this. “Sooo, why didn't you just send up a flare?”
“I forgot to grab one before heading out.” Flash mumbled, looking about everywhere except in the direction of his would be interrogator, who was now regarding him with the perfect “Are you kidding me?” expression.
“Wow...either you're really stupid, a new recruit, or you got saddled with the night shift as a punishment.” he deadpanned, easily noticing Flash wince, telling him he was dead-on with his accusations. “So, which is it?”
“...Last two.” he mumbled, to which the batpony promptly facehoofed.
“Great...” the batpony groaned. “Well come on then, let's get out of here; I've worked guard duty in the gardens before, so I'm pretty sure I can get us out of here.”
With nothing else to say, the batpony spun around and began making his way down the pathway.
“Thanks..Hey, wait up!” Flash shouted, falling in behind his senior office.
The two continued to walk in relative silence for a few minutes, until Flash noticed a little issue he'd forgot to address.
“So, I never caught you're name.”
The batpony looked over his shoulder at the guard, a tiny smirk on his face.
“Goblet. Crimson Goblet.”
“And here we are; now that didn't take too long did it?”
Crimson Goblet's words brought Flash back to reality, derailing his brooding, as he raised his head to take in his surroundings. He was standing in the middle for a wide open field, but was baffled when he noticed that he was still within the hedge maze, the unkempt shrubbery clearly visible a short ways away. In the center of the field was an old, decrepit steeple, its paint peeling, and the roof missing a great many shingles. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Crimson Goblet had led Flash into the deepest parts of the maze, maybe even the very center itself. Flash was about to call him on it too, but then he noticed that, despite him having been right in front of him for the trek. Crimson was no where to be seen. Spinning around, Flash felt his earlier fears bubbling back to the surface.
“Crimson...?” he called out into the night.
"A fine evening, wouldn't you agree, Flash Sentry?"
Flash recognized the voice as Crimson Goblet's, but at the same time, it sounded...off. It was more gravelly, more hoarse, like he'd been left in the desert without anything to drink for a long time. Spinning back around, Flash saw Crimson Goblet sitting on the roof of the steeple, gazing up at the sky as the cloud cover began to disperse, and the field was bathed in the pale light of the moon.
Flash began to advance on the neglected structure, but stopped mid-stride, as an unearthly chill raced up and his spine.
Easily visible underneath the moonlight, Flash watched as Crinsom Goblet...changed.
The batpony's thestral features looked sharper, more pronounced. The lines of his face seemed more angular, and his coat, which had been reletively smooth and uniform, was now mangy and unkempt, like a wild animal's. In much the same way, Crimson Goblet’s eyes, still bearing their cat-lit slits, had sunken a little deeper into his sockets and glowed with a feral, red light. Most disturbingly, as his lips curled back, the moon’s light gleamed off a mouth filled with long, pointed canines.
That...is one serious set of chompers. Flash though, slowly backing away from the winged predator's piercing, hungry gaze. The being in front of him radiated a cold savagery, and held an unnatural, otherworldy beauty that no pony, not even other therstals, were capable of producing.
As a batpony, Crimson Goblet had been plenty intimidating already, but now, everything about him screamed dangerous, from his look, to his posture, to the way he leaned over the edge of the steeple's roof, shoulders hunched and muscles taut, ready to pounce at a moments notice.
“Hey, Flash...” Crimson hissed, his eyes narrowing as he leaned back from the ledge.
“Yes?” Flash said, unable to keep his voice from cracking.
“Here's what's going to happen. We're going to play a little game; The Hunter and The Hunted.” Flash nodded, knowing he wasn't being given a choice. “The Rules are simple; you try to make your way out of the maze, while I give chase, and you try to avoid evade me.” Another nod. “If you make it to the exit before I catch you, you win. I'll disappear, and you can pretend this was all a bad dream, so long as you keep your mouth shut.”
Flash felt his mouth go dry, and asked the obvious. “...And what if I lose?”
Crimson chuckled at this. “If you lose...well, I'll leave that to your imagination; wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, now would we?”
Hunching down, Crimson Goblet flared his wings wide, a very unponylike growl rumbling free of his fanged maw.
“You've got ten seconds; Run.”
Flash needed no further incentive, as he zipped back into the shrubbery labyrinth at full gallop, adrenaline coursed through his veins. He darted down straightaways, and round bends like a stallion possessed, more than eager to put as much distance between himself and his pursuer as possible. Flash could hear nothing but the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears as his heart hammered away in his chest. His eyes dilated with fear, and his body trembled as he feverishly racked his brain, trying desperately to remember the path he'd taken.
Left, right, left, right, right again, left, left, ri-
“Times up, Flash! Ready or not, HERE I COME!”
BUCK ME!
Redoubling his efforts, Flash flew through the winding maze like a stallion possessed, his nuscles screaming at the sudden, intense exertion. Swiveling atop his head, Flash's ears strained to hear even the fainted sounds, above his own heartbeat, unwilling to be caught unawares.
"Oh, Flashy~, where are you~?"
The sound of wings flapping was distant, but Crimson Goblets' voice rang out loud and clear, the way he growled Flash's foalhood nickname sending chills down his spine. Whether it was deliberate, or merely coincidence, Flash didn't know, nor did he care to find out, as the looming prospect of impending doom spurred him onward.
"You know I'll find you~."
The sound of wings flapping grew louder, closer.
Flash couldn't help but compare this to a sick, twisted game of cat and mouse, and unfortunately for him, Flash found himself in the place of the mouse, trying desperately to evade the hungry cat, lest he be gobbled up whole. Crimson was the predator, Flash, the prey. Killer, victim. Hunter, hunted...huh. If his life wasn't at stake, Flash would've laughed at the Crimson Goblet's morbidly ironic choice of naming.
"I can smell you," the monster thestral cooed darkly.
Just when the flapping of leathery wings was at it's loudest, and Flash was certain Crimson Goblet was going to drop out of the sky above him at any moment, the sound of rapid wing-beats vanished, leaving nothing but the thundering of Flash's hooves against the ground. Looking back, and above, Flash found nothing, and heaved a sigh of relief, but didn't dare break stride as he rounded the turned right at the next fork. Just a little further, and-
"Boo."
Flash felt his heart leap into his throat, and his stomach bottom out, as a triumphant Crimson Goblet stood at the end of the straightaway, his fang-filled twisted into a cocky, arrogant grin. For some reason, the sight of the smug batpony set Flash's blood to boiling, even more so than the actual chase had. Escape was not an option, and now that Flash thought about it, it probably never was, but that didn't mean he'd just roll over. If he was going down, he'd go down with a fight.
Sucking in a deep breath, Flash did what he could only call suicidal, and, with the best battlecry he could muster, charged full speed at the batpony..
Crimson, having lured ponies into the hedge maze before, was caught off-guard by the orange pegasi guard's bravado, but not so much that he wasn't able to act accordingly. Rolling to the side, he let the charging pegasus plow straight into the leafy wall behind him. While the foliage was surprisingly ample, wasn't nearly as thick as it appeared. Flash threw himself clean through the leafy blockade, unable to control his fall, tumbled head over hooves until brought to an abrupt stop by slamming into what felt like a brick wall.
"Owww... Who put that bucking mountain in my way?" he groaned, rubbing the back of his head, before opening her eyes and looking up at what he'd run into.
To his surprise, Flash found himself smiling with joy, as he stared at none other the statue of the Zealot, which meant he'd not only managed to avoid being Crimson Goblet's midnight snack, but he'd also managed to get out of the hedge maze; he'd played Goblet's game and won! The realization had him on merrily hooping around the Zealot's statue, whooping it up like he'd just won a billion bits.
However, Flash's revelry was cut short, as he noticed something very out of place; the entire garden grounds was eerily silent, and the faint glow of the Solar Guard's crystal lanterns was no where to be seen, Luna's moon being the only source of light to be seen.
“Oh, would you look at that,” A familiar voice rasped out. “is it time for the Guard's to change over already? How...convenient.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, Flash let his gaze travel up the statue, until it came to rest on the uncanny sihlouette of the batpony that had terrorized him for most of the night, a pair of glowing crimson eyes gazing down upon him, a mouthful of fangs glinting wickedly in the moonlight, wet with saliva as he licked his lips. Flash turned to bolt, for the second time that night, only to feel something slam into his side, and knock him to the ground.
"And just where do you think you're going?" Crimson snapped, planting a hoof on Flash's chest.
Struggle though he might, Flash found himself unable escape from the batpony, his superior strength pinning the prone pegasus with ease.
His fangs jutted from jawline, each tooth now a wickedly sharp canine, for the world to see.
Flash quivered, loosing what little bravado he'd had, as his attention focused on the gaping maw of teeth before him. Each fang, sharp and pointy, had a hypnotic allure to it, they were vicious and deadly, but equally mesmerizing at the same time.
Crimson moved closer, and Flash trying in vain to move away. Caught between the pedestal and the batpony, Flash was trapped, cornered. No place to run nowhere to hide.
"But you said if I got out of the maze, you'd let me go!" Flash whimpered. He felt pathetic, begging for my life in such a feeble manner, but what else could he do at this point?
"Hmm...yes, I suppose I did, didn't I?" Crimson whispered, pulling away and putting a hoof to his chin in mock contemplation, “ And you did make it out of the maze, even if you technically cheated to do so, I guess..."
"I lied," Crimson sneered.
Flash cringed, tensing up as Crimson's head darted forward, mouth opened wide. His fangs sank in with ease, jaws clamping down on Flash's throat like a vice. Flash continued to struggle as best he could, but with each passing second, his struggles grew more and more feeble, until he could no longer find the strength to move.
I'm going to die. He thought, as his vision began to swim and blur, “I'm going to pass out from blood loss, die, and no one will know what happened.
Flash had always heard of a pony's life flashing before their eyes in their final moments, but had never really given the experience much thought until know, as he saw his whole life laid out before him, most of which, was so dull and boring, he felt ashamed that he hadn't tried to do more. No real friends, family he barely talked to; hell, he hadn't even gotten a marefriend yet. He'd had all that time, and he'd wasted it.
How is this my life? With a final thought, Flash felt consciousness fade away, and slipped into darkness.
On the ground below, the vampony was so focused on sinking his fangs into the orange guardspony that he failed to watch the area around him. The dark green vines that had managed to slip throught the cracks in the Zealot's statue began to writhe once more, as they focused on the blood-sucking abomination that had the gall to harm an innocent in their presence. The vampony, on some level, was aware of their presence as well, but was too focused on his prey to react they had already surrounded him.
Only, when the vampony raised his head did he see the mass spiked vines wildly thrashing about around him, but by then, it was too late.
Faster than he could react, the vines were upon him, winding around his legs and barrel with a loud crack, the vampony hissing in pain as the barbed spikes dug past his fur into the sensitive flesh that lie beneath. The vampony bucked, kicked, and flailed about as the vines hoisted him into the air, flapping his winds with all his might in order to escape their grasp.
The vines would have none of that, as several more vines erupted from the cracks in the statue, these with large pointed barbs on the end. Slowly, methodically, the vines coiled around the base and tips of the vampony's wings, pulling them away from Crimson's back until each was fully deployed, the bony tips pointing up and extended in a manner that was anything but comfortable.
The vampony's hiss of discomfort became a pained howl, as the sharp tips of the vines punched through the veiny membrane of his wings, weaving themselves in and out of the thin tissue layer int an equally slow, methodic, and excructiatingly painful manner. Tightening their grip, the vines tore off Crimson's wings with a violent jerk, the tissue tearing with the sound of shredded paper. The vampony mouth simply hung open, his voice hoarse all but gone, as he continued to howl in agony all the while, until he fell limp in the vines grasp, sweat rolling down his face and off his muzzle as he gasped for air.
Above the sounds of his own, ragged breathing, Crimson was vaguely aware of the sound of stone cracking and falling to the ground. Fear of the unknown made Crimson slowly raise his head, looking up with wide eyes, as the last of the stone encasing the Zealot fell away, revealing a monster feared and revered my all vampire-kind, but regarded by few to be more than a myth.
The Zealous Hunter, Alexander Anderson.
“The black-robed angel of the cloth, upon whose head sits a crown of thorns. King of the Bramble bush, he stalks those he has deemed unworthy, silver bayonet in hand and eyes alight with manic blue fire, to reap the sins of the brash and foolhardy, the heathens who dare make their presence known to him. Be even wary, lest you find yourself ensnared in his thorny embrace, and be ever wise, lest your shadow grow to mean his, and his blade of fire should pierce your heart. To those who are foolhardy, to those who are unwary, in his presence you shall find your final resting place. For he is judge, jury, executioner, and death eternal. And so it shall be; ashes to ashes, and dust to dust...”
The words of the old warnings he'd been told as a fledgling fell unbidden from his mouth, as he watched the Zealot raise his hand, bayonet held high above his head, the tip poised to run him through beneath. Crimson wanted to run, to struggle against his bounds until he was free to scramble away and cower in the darkest hole he could find, trembling in fear of his race's most reviled enemy for centuries.
He knew he would have no such luck.
The arm fell, firmly plunged the bayonet into his chest chest all the way up to the handle, easily shattering the bones in his ribcage with unimaginable force and cruelty, impaling Crimson as he was held aloft by the vines that protruded from Anderson's back. In a voice that seethed with more hatred and contempt that Crimson had ever heard, the Zealot growled in his ear once final word as the darknes rose to claim him.
Amen.
