Finally back to this one. Haven't posted in a very long time due to losing my computer for a weekend, then finding it under a bunch of stuff. Also, I have been planning the Mad Hatter series and re-planning this one. So. The vampire arc as the audience thinks it will end in the next chapter, which should hopefully be out by tomorrow. For those of you who will still read this after I have been gone for so long, you have my deepest thanks. Remember, I love comments.
While the battle began, Abrum’s conscious was withdrawn deep within his own mind, completely surrounded by inky blackness while his avatar became the baleful harbinger, fighting against incredible odds against the mad guardians. Abrum was on his knees, sitting, his back slumped and his arms hanging to the ground, palms facing upwards. His head hung down, his chin in his chest. It was the image of one who is weary, and exhausted. As he sat, images flitted across the inky black expanse that surrounded. Abrum lifted his head and watched these images. He soon realized that these were his memories. How the game had access to them, he did not know, but he sat and watched.
His life seemed to play out right before his eyes. The warmth and happiness he experienced from the years between his birth and that of his twelfth year. His father was a smart man, with a wiry mustache, who always had a terrible pun to pull out. Though his father always nit-picked at his grammar, Abrum had loved him dearly. The way that his dad would set aside his work and always seemed to have time for his son if there ever was a big problem. His mother complimented his father well. She was the outgoing, social doctor. She always treated her patients with kindness, and was adept at breaking bad news. She was stubborn, and refused to give up, almost to the point of fault. While she was kind and gentle, she turned fierce as a lion when if her friends or family were hurt. On his 5th birthday, he received the best present a child can receive. He got a little sister. She was a major component in his life and Abrum took pleasure in teaching her things. Thus, she came to idolize her brother. Abrum had always found it odd how his sister idolized him. Everyone he knew either had trouble with their siblings, or they just had a peaceful relationship Nevertheless, he and his sister got along quite well. Abrum looked fondly upon the memory of his mother and father and sister. They were a happy family. Then, a cataclysmic event completely upheaved his warm life.
An image, bigger than the rest flashed across the inky blackness. It was the report of the plane crash. His parents had flown on a vacation for their anniversary. On their return flight, their plane crashed somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. In that moment, his ordinary life was shattered. The image of his tearful separation from his beloved sister went slowly across the inky expanse. Abrum went to go live with his aunt and uncle while his sister went to go live with the grandparents. The arrangement was completely strange, though Abrum didn’t question it at the time.
A single emotion gripped him after that moment. Helpless anger. Anger at the world. For taking his mother. For taking his father. For separating him from his sister. This rage had been assuaged by his catharsis brought about by the spiritual guidance from a pastor he had the fortune of meeting, however, it was not completely gone. The loss of Lilith must have triggered the release of the restraint and caused his transformation along with the atrocities that were being committed by his body. Abrum could feel the tears reforming from reviling the painful memories from his past. The following images were of darker days, where this anger had gripped his heart. He seemed to lash out at everyone who tried to extend a helping hand. Thus, he delved deeper and deeper into his anger. That darkness started to control him, he became more and more unstable, until finally, he ended up in jail for his first charge of assault. This was the darkest moment of his life. He had lost his family and now was in jail. The world seemed to be working against him.
Surrounded, and assaulted by such painful memories, Abrum curled up, and lay in that infinite blackness. While all this was happening, the Red Wolf, who had since been surrounded and beaten down by the other guardians, was kneeling on one knee, its eyes giving a baleful glare at those mad guardians. The guardians had been whittled down to 6, however, it wasn’t plausible that the Red Wolf by itself could defeat the group of B class bosses. The dark katana in the wolf’s hand was already deeply stained with blood. Somehow, the guardians had avoided dying, but only barely. The ones that were defeated were in a sorry condition. The clearing had become a sea of blood, which the wolf had utilized to the full extent. However, despite the extreme health and mana increase that was gained from the transformation, it seemed that the battle had exhausted even that. The guardians began to close in, their jaws slavering with the expectation of the meat.
The players and remaining villagers had taken the opportunity to escape while the guardians were distracted. Tortar originally wanted to help, as did some of the other players; however, once they saw the eyes of the Red Wolf. They were filled with a baleful hate. A destructive determination. An unrestrained danger. Thus, they had taken the opportunity to escape while they could.
However, exhausted and drained, the Wolf still cast its hateful look at them. Defeated, and subdued, but that hate didn’t leave.
Abrum lay curled up in the middle of that inky blackness of his mind, seemingly forsaken, to steep in his anger. .
*Richard Strolonoff POV (Creator of the game. Reference Day of Ouch)*
Richard sat in the same hospital room with the lights out. The same one where four days ago, he had presented the offer to Sameul. It was the middle of the night, and the mass amounts of medical equipment surrounded a hospital bed, where numerous tubes were inserted into a single person. This was Sameul. There was more equipment than usual. These tubes and etc. sustained Sameul, and would continue to sustain him. The light of the various monitors that displayed Sameul’s vitals partially illuminated the hospital room.
This was not what Richard was watching. In actuality, Richard was indifferent to the well-being of this naïve boy. What he was watching was the large screen that was on the wall, hung by a fixture and bolts that completely differed from the style of the hospital. Upon this screen, the adventure of Abrum were displayed. Richard had been watching for the past four days. He had sat upon one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs, and watched. He had watched impassively, watched the struggles and pain of Abrum, with an indifferent gaze. However, his expression finally changed at the appearance of the Red Wolf. It had changed to disappointment.
“How….. disappointing.” He mumbled to himself. He saw how the Red Wolf fought. The awe-inspiring speed it moved at. The peculiar ability to control blood. What disappointed him was the look of hate in the Red Wolf’s eyes. An irrational hate. A hate born from an immense loss, and lack of understanding. That hate born from hardship, where there is a lack of support. Of comfort. Of the loving God. Richard reached over for the remote about to turn it off. Before his hand reached the remote. There was a change in the wolf’s eyes.
*Abrum’s POV*
The inky blackness that surrounded Abrum was unforgiving. It was oppressive. The harsh infinite nothingness that offered no escape contained him and allowed him to steep in his rage… This hopeless blackness was broken by a small light. A comforting light. It grew stronger and shone down upon Abrum. He lifted his head and looked up at this glow. And his eyes widened. How could he have forgotten him who introduced Him? The one that had brought the light, and dredged him out of that anger.
Various images streamed past, quicker and quicker as time went on. They were all memories that included that man. That beautiful man of God. Abrum felt his hopeless, irrational, anger fading from him as he recounted these memories. He felt so much lighter. Thus, the inky blackness gave way to a glorious light, and he was returned to his senses.
*Richard Strolonoff POV*
Richard settled back into his chair to watch what would unfold. The clawed hands of the Red Wolf loosened its grip upon the long black katana and the dark sheathe in the other hand. The long katana drooped down, the tip touching the ground. The Red Wolf was down on its knees. The full moon peeked out from the trees that had previously shrouded it bathing the Red Wolf in moonlight. The moon reflected off of the pools of blood, creating a surreal scene. The Red Wolf’s fur started to grow lighter, the muscle mass started to decrease and the joints in the legs began to return to their humanoid nature. The long snout started to mold back into its original form. The six remaining guardians watched, unable to comprehend the situation.
There, in the middle of all the blood, was a toned man, chest bared, with white hair that glittered in the soft moonlight and four long, feathery white wings from his back. The moonlight danced around him, swirling and sparkling. More specifically, it swirled around the black katana. It flowed in hidden patterns and was absorbed into the black katana. As the moonlight was absorbed, the blackness seemed to be dispelled as a miasma from the blade and the hilt. The miasma floated through the vortex of moonlight creating a tornado of light and dark. With the black removed, there remained a spectacular result.
The blade of the katana was a soft, silver hue; however, the moonlight that reflected off of it had a harsh glint. The hilt was now wrapped in a white ribbon, and the ribbon that dangled from the edge of the hilt was no longer dirty, but a pure white.
A more noticeable change was that the ribbon was moving upon its own. It snaked up his arm and wrapped around the bicep. The tip of the ribbon dug into his arm and drew a little bit of blood. The small amount was absorbed and the wound closed, however the ribbon remained wrapped around his arm.
For the first time, Richard showed an expression of interest.
“I see you don’t disappoint…”
*Abrum’s POV*
Abrum’s eyes were wide open. He almost couldn’t believe the amazing sight that he was in the center of. Completely astounded of the blade’s startling transformation. The marvelous sight fascinated him as he gazed with his ice blue eyes. However, his attention was drawn to his arm when he felt the ribbon sliding up his arm. Smooth and silky, it slid up to his bicep. He felt the pain at his bicep as it cut him. The thing that most startled him was what happened immediately after. A monotone voice in his head sounded.
“Blood analysis positive. Angaellis race authenticated. Deactivating Eclipse’s security measures. Preparing insanity countermeasures, Standby.”
As soon as this was said, more of the ribbon wrapping the hilt unraveled and wrapped around his arm until it was completely wrapped.
‘What in the world?’ Thought Abrum as that monotone voice receded. What was going on? The black miasma that was a part of the moonlight vortex suddenly was sucked into the black sheathe at an alarming rate. Abrum also noticed a change in the way the moonlight flowed through the air. Instead of congregating around the katana, it seemed to be… going around behind him in four sub vortices. He assumed they were spinning around his long wings.
“Commencing insanity countermeasures.” Rang the monotone voice in his head. As soon as that sentence was finished, the ribbon that completely wrapped Abrum’s arm tightened. Abrum’s arm was manipulated by the ribbon, forcing to raise his arm above his head, katana gripped tightly in a reverse grip.
“Beginning in 3…2…1…”
‘Oh dear’ Abrum thought to himself.
While the battle began, Abrum’s conscious was withdrawn deep within his own mind, completely surrounded by inky blackness while his avatar became the baleful harbinger, fighting against incredible odds against the mad guardians. Abrum was on his knees, sitting, his back slumped and his arms hanging to the ground, palms facing upwards. His head hung down, his chin in his chest. It was the image of one who is weary, and exhausted. As he sat, images flitted across the inky black expanse that surrounded. Abrum lifted his head and watched these images. He soon realized that these were his memories. How the game had access to them, he did not know, but he sat and watched.
His life seemed to play out right before his eyes. The warmth and happiness he experienced from the years between his birth and that of his twelfth year. His father was a smart man, with a wiry mustache, who always had a terrible pun to pull out. Though his father always nit-picked at his grammar, Abrum had loved him dearly. The way that his dad would set aside his work and always seemed to have time for his son if there ever was a big problem. His mother complimented his father well. She was the outgoing, social doctor. She always treated her patients with kindness, and was adept at breaking bad news. She was stubborn, and refused to give up, almost to the point of fault. While she was kind and gentle, she turned fierce as a lion when if her friends or family were hurt. On his 5th birthday, he received the best present a child can receive. He got a little sister. She was a major component in his life and Abrum took pleasure in teaching her things. Thus, she came to idolize her brother. Abrum had always found it odd how his sister idolized him. Everyone he knew either had trouble with their siblings, or they just had a peaceful relationship Nevertheless, he and his sister got along quite well. Abrum looked fondly upon the memory of his mother and father and sister. They were a happy family. Then, a cataclysmic event completely upheaved his warm life.
An image, bigger than the rest flashed across the inky blackness. It was the report of the plane crash. His parents had flown on a vacation for their anniversary. On their return flight, their plane crashed somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. In that moment, his ordinary life was shattered. The image of his tearful separation from his beloved sister went slowly across the inky expanse. Abrum went to go live with his aunt and uncle while his sister went to go live with the grandparents. The arrangement was completely strange, though Abrum didn’t question it at the time.
A single emotion gripped him after that moment. Helpless anger. Anger at the world. For taking his mother. For taking his father. For separating him from his sister. This rage had been assuaged by his catharsis brought about by the spiritual guidance from a pastor he had the fortune of meeting, however, it was not completely gone. The loss of Lilith must have triggered the release of the restraint and caused his transformation along with the atrocities that were being committed by his body. Abrum could feel the tears reforming from reviling the painful memories from his past. The following images were of darker days, where this anger had gripped his heart. He seemed to lash out at everyone who tried to extend a helping hand. Thus, he delved deeper and deeper into his anger. That darkness started to control him, he became more and more unstable, until finally, he ended up in jail for his first charge of assault. This was the darkest moment of his life. He had lost his family and now was in jail. The world seemed to be working against him.
Surrounded, and assaulted by such painful memories, Abrum curled up, and lay in that infinite blackness. While all this was happening, the Red Wolf, who had since been surrounded and beaten down by the other guardians, was kneeling on one knee, its eyes giving a baleful glare at those mad guardians. The guardians had been whittled down to 6, however, it wasn’t plausible that the Red Wolf by itself could defeat the group of B class bosses. The dark katana in the wolf’s hand was already deeply stained with blood. Somehow, the guardians had avoided dying, but only barely. The ones that were defeated were in a sorry condition. The clearing had become a sea of blood, which the wolf had utilized to the full extent. However, despite the extreme health and mana increase that was gained from the transformation, it seemed that the battle had exhausted even that. The guardians began to close in, their jaws slavering with the expectation of the meat.
The players and remaining villagers had taken the opportunity to escape while the guardians were distracted. Tortar originally wanted to help, as did some of the other players; however, once they saw the eyes of the Red Wolf. They were filled with a baleful hate. A destructive determination. An unrestrained danger. Thus, they had taken the opportunity to escape while they could.
However, exhausted and drained, the Wolf still cast its hateful look at them. Defeated, and subdued, but that hate didn’t leave.
Abrum lay curled up in the middle of that inky blackness of his mind, seemingly forsaken, to steep in his anger. .
*Richard Strolonoff POV (Creator of the game. Reference Day of Ouch)*
Richard sat in the same hospital room with the lights out. The same one where four days ago, he had presented the offer to Sameul. It was the middle of the night, and the mass amounts of medical equipment surrounded a hospital bed, where numerous tubes were inserted into a single person. This was Sameul. There was more equipment than usual. These tubes and etc. sustained Sameul, and would continue to sustain him. The light of the various monitors that displayed Sameul’s vitals partially illuminated the hospital room.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
This was not what Richard was watching. In actuality, Richard was indifferent to the well-being of this naïve boy. What he was watching was the large screen that was on the wall, hung by a fixture and bolts that completely differed from the style of the hospital. Upon this screen, the adventure of Abrum were displayed. Richard had been watching for the past four days. He had sat upon one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs, and watched. He had watched impassively, watched the struggles and pain of Abrum, with an indifferent gaze. However, his expression finally changed at the appearance of the Red Wolf. It had changed to disappointment.
“How….. disappointing.” He mumbled to himself. He saw how the Red Wolf fought. The awe-inspiring speed it moved at. The peculiar ability to control blood. What disappointed him was the look of hate in the Red Wolf’s eyes. An irrational hate. A hate born from an immense loss, and lack of understanding. That hate born from hardship, where there is a lack of support. Of comfort. Of the loving God. Richard reached over for the remote about to turn it off. Before his hand reached the remote. There was a change in the wolf’s eyes.
*Abrum’s POV*
The inky blackness that surrounded Abrum was unforgiving. It was oppressive. The harsh infinite nothingness that offered no escape contained him and allowed him to steep in his rage… This hopeless blackness was broken by a small light. A comforting light. It grew stronger and shone down upon Abrum. He lifted his head and looked up at this glow. And his eyes widened. How could he have forgotten him who introduced Him? The one that had brought the light, and dredged him out of that anger.
Various images streamed past, quicker and quicker as time went on. They were all memories that included that man. That beautiful man of God. Abrum felt his hopeless, irrational, anger fading from him as he recounted these memories. He felt so much lighter. Thus, the inky blackness gave way to a glorious light, and he was returned to his senses.
*Richard Strolonoff POV*
Richard settled back into his chair to watch what would unfold. The clawed hands of the Red Wolf loosened its grip upon the long black katana and the dark sheathe in the other hand. The long katana drooped down, the tip touching the ground. The Red Wolf was down on its knees. The full moon peeked out from the trees that had previously shrouded it bathing the Red Wolf in moonlight. The moon reflected off of the pools of blood, creating a surreal scene. The Red Wolf’s fur started to grow lighter, the muscle mass started to decrease and the joints in the legs began to return to their humanoid nature. The long snout started to mold back into its original form. The six remaining guardians watched, unable to comprehend the situation.
There, in the middle of all the blood, was a toned man, chest bared, with white hair that glittered in the soft moonlight and four long, feathery white wings from his back. The moonlight danced around him, swirling and sparkling. More specifically, it swirled around the black katana. It flowed in hidden patterns and was absorbed into the black katana. As the moonlight was absorbed, the blackness seemed to be dispelled as a miasma from the blade and the hilt. The miasma floated through the vortex of moonlight creating a tornado of light and dark. With the black removed, there remained a spectacular result.
The blade of the katana was a soft, silver hue; however, the moonlight that reflected off of it had a harsh glint. The hilt was now wrapped in a white ribbon, and the ribbon that dangled from the edge of the hilt was no longer dirty, but a pure white.
A more noticeable change was that the ribbon was moving upon its own. It snaked up his arm and wrapped around the bicep. The tip of the ribbon dug into his arm and drew a little bit of blood. The small amount was absorbed and the wound closed, however the ribbon remained wrapped around his arm.
For the first time, Richard showed an expression of interest.
“I see you don’t disappoint…”
*Abrum’s POV*
Abrum’s eyes were wide open. He almost couldn’t believe the amazing sight that he was in the center of. Completely astounded of the blade’s startling transformation. The marvelous sight fascinated him as he gazed with his ice blue eyes. However, his attention was drawn to his arm when he felt the ribbon sliding up his arm. Smooth and silky, it slid up to his bicep. He felt the pain at his bicep as it cut him. The thing that most startled him was what happened immediately after. A monotone voice in his head sounded.
“Blood analysis positive. Angaellis race authenticated. Deactivating Eclipse’s security measures. Preparing insanity countermeasures, Standby.”
As soon as this was said, more of the ribbon wrapping the hilt unraveled and wrapped around his arm until it was completely wrapped.
‘What in the world?’ Thought Abrum as that monotone voice receded. What was going on? The black miasma that was a part of the moonlight vortex suddenly was sucked into the black sheathe at an alarming rate. Abrum also noticed a change in the way the moonlight flowed through the air. Instead of congregating around the katana, it seemed to be… going around behind him in four sub vortices. He assumed they were spinning around his long wings.
“Commencing insanity countermeasures.” Rang the monotone voice in his head. As soon as that sentence was finished, the ribbon that completely wrapped Abrum’s arm tightened. Abrum’s arm was manipulated by the ribbon, forcing to raise his arm above his head, katana gripped tightly in a reverse grip.
“Beginning in 3…2…1…”
‘Oh dear’ Abrum thought to himself.
About the author
Mad Jester
- California
- Insanity Incarnate
Bio: I am going into my Senior year. I am currently living it in LA, pursuing an acting career. If one asked me what is the center pillar of my life, I would answer God. His grace and love support me, even when the sky is stormy, and life seems to fall apart around me. I am His.
Achievements
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