ChargewithSword
Zelda Dungeon's Critic
- Joined
- Jan 13, 2009
- Location
- I don't want to say.
Whether this story is frightening or not, I do not know. I will have this hidden in spoiler tags though. I don't want to risk the chance that this is scary enough to make someone panic.
So, now that, that's out of the way, enjoy, Tong!
So, now that, that's out of the way, enjoy, Tong!
...There's that clock again, booming and ringing, yet nowhere to be found. Try as hard as I may, I can only see the black night sky. There are clouds blocking the stars and moon as murky as the foulest pits to, heaven knows, what abyss. How I beg to see more light, but am forced to be satisfied by the half-hearted beams attempting to break through the dancing mist of evil claws.
What did I do to get myself here? I'm just a simple reporter who wanted a story.
...I guess that's a good reason, although I was doomed in the beginning. Who knew, that such a secret lay hidden, deep within such an unsuspecting village? Underneath the smiles and cheer, the workings of devilry and foul play strike true. How demonic could anything be to conceal the workings of such a hateful practice and abnormal savagery.
If only I had discovered it sooner, before the sun dipped away to the vast nothingness of night in the horizon.
If only I listened to that old crow,
"Take heed of the child basking in blood," he says. Now if only I listened.
If only I did many things.
I just have to meet for the present though and-wait!
That flopping and wading sound that echoes through the street as if there was water present on the ground...
Oh no! They're coming, I must run! The darkness is ever present, and the road ahead is nothing but vast silence and shadow, but I have no choice! Forward is all I am forced to heed and to beg for salvation.
That accursed clock again. If I knew where the wretched siren was, I'd slice open its gears with a hatchet and, in blinding rage, shove the parts down all the heathens' throats. But I cannot find it, nor do I wish to. All I wish is for freedom.
My breath shortens, and my legs are giving way, yet I still hear them, closing in behind.
My blood is already running cold with the deathly petrifaction akin to the stone behemoths guarding the way.
How I remember those things, gazing down to me with frozen eyes of blood-soaked ruby. How horrible were the evil grins which dotted their faces. Though made of stone, they appeared to move with a sudden and chilling grace, as if they were beckoning me further inward into the shadow of their ill-begotten, reptilian armory.
With what little courage I had, I thrust myself away and began to run for dear life. I dared not to turn around, for I could feel it. They were watching me still, this time with hatred, malice, and scorn; to look back would have meant death.
I'm running, yet I don't know where.
I'm breathing, yet I don't know what.
I feel like suffocating in the poisonous gas of this night time air, but I still live to run.
No! Please let it not be, no! Curse my legs for whatever distress they have led me to, to trip!
...Now I am left to the mercy of my pursuers.
I shut my eyes, and wait for the end...
...
...
...But wait.
The noise has ended, and the seeming splashing of water against the night wind has stopped to the common sight of traveling dust fleeing to the distance. Where hath the heathens gone off to?
Have they fled out of fear? Perhaps they mean to play with my struggling heart and trap me in some dead end with no escape in sight. Did I cross some boundary that-
Oh shut up, you vile thing! I do not know what mischief you work to deliver, or what master you serve, but by the all, shut up!
What is this? I see a few things standing out in this pale gloom; lighting themselves with strange candles held aloft by no hands.
There are trees drooping down to the sullied earth, with branches like cages withholding many unspeakable horrors. They are disfigured yet bear horrendous likeness to what we consider to be human. Beneath the ragged fur and boneless skin I see many pale eyes, sagging and shining dimly through the darkness. They're looking at me! Oh, what morbib curiosity or hunger do they bear; I do not know!
...Two Tongs of the clock toll? What ill omen does this bring before me! I must run again, with more urgency and speed than ever before, lest I be left for prey to these nameless horrors!
My feet seem to fly as I dash forwards to whatever destination I set for myself. No matter how far I cross though, I cannot escape the eyes! They're everywhere and nowhere, for when I check to see, I find nothing!
I cannot attribute this to madness, for this horrid reality is nowhere near as comforting to think of. This is no stark dream of the human perversities, but a reality of the human malice! Oh please, make it stop, make it stop!
... An altar...
I see an altar before me; headstones of recently departed are all around me, with fresh dirt that fiddles around with the stone cold wind.
I see something, someone. It's a figure. On the altar I can see a figure laying down in some restful slumber.
It seems to be a girl by the looks of it. She's in a scarlet robe of the most curiously wrought with strange materials. Abnormal is her face, so stretched thin and pale with death. On her chest is a strange object, it makes a hauntingly consistent click.
It's the clock!
Oh no; whatever strength or anger I had to this clock beforehand is now replaced by a horrible, lingering fear. I have found the symbol of my doom before me, ticking away to the hour of my final dismay!
Wait! Her eyes are shooting open, and her head's turning towards me in the most grudging manner imaginable! Her neck cricks unnaturally until finally fixing itself in whatever awkward position resembles looking towards me!
I have to get away, I know it, but my legs won't obey my commands. B-blood! It's everywhere; emanating from that horrible witch before me! It's her, I knew it!
She's opening her mouth and is speaking a language of the most horrible sort! My head, my mind, it's failing me...
H-e..help...me...
...
...
What did I do to get myself here? I'm just a simple reporter who wanted a story.
...I guess that's a good reason, although I was doomed in the beginning. Who knew, that such a secret lay hidden, deep within such an unsuspecting village? Underneath the smiles and cheer, the workings of devilry and foul play strike true. How demonic could anything be to conceal the workings of such a hateful practice and abnormal savagery.
If only I had discovered it sooner, before the sun dipped away to the vast nothingness of night in the horizon.
If only I listened to that old crow,
"Take heed of the child basking in blood," he says. Now if only I listened.
If only I did many things.
I just have to meet for the present though and-wait!
That flopping and wading sound that echoes through the street as if there was water present on the ground...
Oh no! They're coming, I must run! The darkness is ever present, and the road ahead is nothing but vast silence and shadow, but I have no choice! Forward is all I am forced to heed and to beg for salvation.
Tong!
That accursed clock again. If I knew where the wretched siren was, I'd slice open its gears with a hatchet and, in blinding rage, shove the parts down all the heathens' throats. But I cannot find it, nor do I wish to. All I wish is for freedom.
My breath shortens, and my legs are giving way, yet I still hear them, closing in behind.
My blood is already running cold with the deathly petrifaction akin to the stone behemoths guarding the way.
How I remember those things, gazing down to me with frozen eyes of blood-soaked ruby. How horrible were the evil grins which dotted their faces. Though made of stone, they appeared to move with a sudden and chilling grace, as if they were beckoning me further inward into the shadow of their ill-begotten, reptilian armory.
With what little courage I had, I thrust myself away and began to run for dear life. I dared not to turn around, for I could feel it. They were watching me still, this time with hatred, malice, and scorn; to look back would have meant death.
I'm running, yet I don't know where.
I'm breathing, yet I don't know what.
I feel like suffocating in the poisonous gas of this night time air, but I still live to run.
No! Please let it not be, no! Curse my legs for whatever distress they have led me to, to trip!
...Now I am left to the mercy of my pursuers.
I shut my eyes, and wait for the end...
...
...
...But wait.
The noise has ended, and the seeming splashing of water against the night wind has stopped to the common sight of traveling dust fleeing to the distance. Where hath the heathens gone off to?
Have they fled out of fear? Perhaps they mean to play with my struggling heart and trap me in some dead end with no escape in sight. Did I cross some boundary that-
Tong!
Oh shut up, you vile thing! I do not know what mischief you work to deliver, or what master you serve, but by the all, shut up!
What is this? I see a few things standing out in this pale gloom; lighting themselves with strange candles held aloft by no hands.
There are trees drooping down to the sullied earth, with branches like cages withholding many unspeakable horrors. They are disfigured yet bear horrendous likeness to what we consider to be human. Beneath the ragged fur and boneless skin I see many pale eyes, sagging and shining dimly through the darkness. They're looking at me! Oh, what morbib curiosity or hunger do they bear; I do not know!
Tong Tong!
...Two Tongs of the clock toll? What ill omen does this bring before me! I must run again, with more urgency and speed than ever before, lest I be left for prey to these nameless horrors!
My feet seem to fly as I dash forwards to whatever destination I set for myself. No matter how far I cross though, I cannot escape the eyes! They're everywhere and nowhere, for when I check to see, I find nothing!
I cannot attribute this to madness, for this horrid reality is nowhere near as comforting to think of. This is no stark dream of the human perversities, but a reality of the human malice! Oh please, make it stop, make it stop!
... An altar...
I see an altar before me; headstones of recently departed are all around me, with fresh dirt that fiddles around with the stone cold wind.
I see something, someone. It's a figure. On the altar I can see a figure laying down in some restful slumber.
It seems to be a girl by the looks of it. She's in a scarlet robe of the most curiously wrought with strange materials. Abnormal is her face, so stretched thin and pale with death. On her chest is a strange object, it makes a hauntingly consistent click.
It's the clock!
Oh no; whatever strength or anger I had to this clock beforehand is now replaced by a horrible, lingering fear. I have found the symbol of my doom before me, ticking away to the hour of my final dismay!
Wait! Her eyes are shooting open, and her head's turning towards me in the most grudging manner imaginable! Her neck cricks unnaturally until finally fixing itself in whatever awkward position resembles looking towards me!
I have to get away, I know it, but my legs won't obey my commands. B-blood! It's everywhere; emanating from that horrible witch before me! It's her, I knew it!
She's opening her mouth and is speaking a language of the most horrible sort! My head, my mind, it's failing me...
H-e..help...me...
...
...
Tong!
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