The Four Vendettas (Xtraction)
Nov 22, 2017 14:31:02 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, ForeverKuroi, and 4 more like this
Post by The King on Nov 22, 2017 14:31:02 GMT -5
Darkness.
A hole in light. A void of white. A sea of black
Then, a face, white as light, it's eyes dark and hollow. An entity of nothingness, shrouded in an aura of mystery. It's face, frozen and still, more mask like than human. It's only the head we can see, for everything else like the surroundings around it, is black. It's head twitches and glitches, as though there, yet not at the same time. Suddenly, as though in tune with the glitching, white lights dance above it's head, like fairies fluttering their wings. As they flash, we see glimpses of the entity's body, black and small, yet crooked and bent from years of... god knows what.
R̷i̸ng͢ a ̸ŕing͜ ̀a̸ ro̸s̢es.͠.͡. A̸ ̕p͠ock͢et͏ ̴full of́ po͠sȩs̴.̨.̷. ͡A͠ti̵sh̡o͡o̡.̛..͠ A̕ti͞s҉h̡o҉o.͞..̕ W͝e̶ ̴a͡ll f͏a̛l̡l ̛dow҉n̕..͝.́
It twitches some more and begins to raise it's arm towards us, it's fingers twitching and pointing for you. It's calling your name, somewhere, a faint whisper. It tickles down your spine, you feel your body begin to shake with fear. It remains silent for a while, it's dark hollow eyes staring down your soul, eating your heart from the inside.
Duke Kosloff... You will fall down at Xtraction... You will fall at the hands of my four vendettas... What started as a faint whisper soon became a fully fledged war... You broke into the the Legion, you set fire to it and declared a battle for the ages. How did we retaliate? We didn't, there was no need to. You, yourself, and your guys will do that themselves. They will be the death of the fire and the storm, not us, not Anonymous, but your inmates. Your monkeys and slaves... And like all slaves, they have all have a personal vendetta against their owner...
He twists his hand around some more, drawing you in consciously, staring deep into your eyes, crawling it's way inside of your head.
The first of my four Vendettas is the Revolution, the storm and the fire that comes with slaves. It burns deep inside of them as they are treated worthless, weak and expendable. You may run the Fire and the Storm with an iron fist, but Iron can always be overcome with a hint of fire, the very fire that lays deep within the hearts of your people. You claim to have the Alliance built firmly, strong and sturdy, but no sturdy structure is a match for a storm, the very storm that howls within the hearts of your people. It won't be us that'll be the fall of you, it'll be your worthless, weak and expendable slaves...
It's head falls to it's side, laughing almost, but not, at the same time. It's a weird sense, a sort of loneliness, a burning hole etched deep within you. It's got your life in it's hand, it's enticed you in, you can't escape. It won't let you, and no matter how hard you try, still the fire and the storm are too powerful to dismiss.
The second of my vendettas is the slaves in itself, the worthless, weak and expandable workers that fall to your knees, praising you for making their life a living hell. No matter how strong the fire and the storm burns deep down inside of them, it can always be overcome with water and calmness. They may overthrow you in the end, but them themselves will fold in on one another until they are nothing more than nothingness. When they overthrow you, they will fall into a state of water and calmness, a peaceful sea of vengeance. This is when they become weak, this is when they are most vulnerable. That's when a new iron fist, feeling safe and secure, storms itself back into the picture, it builds a new structure, sturdier than the last.
It glitches and it's face appears for a split second, right in-front of the screen, before returning back to it's peaceful place of darkness. It entices you in once more, a deep rumble in your ears, then a screech behind it. It screams for help, until it stops, and you realize it's you, the one who's screaming. It's got you in it's grip of darkness.
The third vendetta, is the repeat of the revolution, a new leader has arisen due to the falling of the last. Thinking that this time, it's iron fist will rule stronger than the one before. But as though set in stone for an eternity to come, it succumbs to the fire and the storm of it's new slaves, as they burn it, from limb to limb and knock the new structure down for good.
The screen fizzles and cracks, it shakes and vibrates, until like the screaming, you realize it's you. Your eyes opening and closing with thunderous intent, as though combating the thing inside of your head. But you can't fight off darkness when there's no light.
The fourth and final vendetta is the new slaves. You get it. They burn the owner's iron, fall into a state of water and calmness. But unlike the second vendetta, a new iron fist doesn't arise... A darkness does. A hole in all of existence. It strikes when most vulnerable, it strikes the free men. Now tell me Kosloff... How do you destroy darkness? How do you destroy... Nothingness? You don't. And even when you think you've found the solution, even when you realize that light shines upon darkness... You realize... How do you shine light within a never ending hole of nothingness?
That's when it hits you... That's when you'll figure out...
You don't. You can't.
You won't.
The entity begins to wickedly cackle, it shrieks and shrivels. It's hole body becoming a spasm of black. It walks forwards, glitching forward a step, glitching back a step, until finally... It reaches you. It grabs you with it's cold, black glove, and pulls you in to it's lifeless face. It screams.
A hole in light. A void of white. A sea of black abyss.
Darkness.
A hole in light. A void of white. A sea of black
Then, a face, white as light, it's eyes dark and hollow. An entity of nothingness, shrouded in an aura of mystery. It's face, frozen and still, more mask like than human. It's only the head we can see, for everything else like the surroundings around it, is black. It's head twitches and glitches, as though there, yet not at the same time. Suddenly, as though in tune with the glitching, white lights dance above it's head, like fairies fluttering their wings. As they flash, we see glimpses of the entity's body, black and small, yet crooked and bent from years of... god knows what.
R̷i̸ng͢ a ̸ŕing͜ ̀a̸ ro̸s̢es.͠.͡. A̸ ̕p͠ock͢et͏ ̴full of́ po͠sȩs̴.̨.̷. ͡A͠ti̵sh̡o͡o̡.̛..͠ A̕ti͞s҉h̡o҉o.͞..̕ W͝e̶ ̴a͡ll f͏a̛l̡l ̛dow҉n̕..͝.́
It twitches some more and begins to raise it's arm towards us, it's fingers twitching and pointing for you. It's calling your name, somewhere, a faint whisper. It tickles down your spine, you feel your body begin to shake with fear. It remains silent for a while, it's dark hollow eyes staring down your soul, eating your heart from the inside.
Duke Kosloff... You will fall down at Xtraction... You will fall at the hands of my four vendettas... What started as a faint whisper soon became a fully fledged war... You broke into the the Legion, you set fire to it and declared a battle for the ages. How did we retaliate? We didn't, there was no need to. You, yourself, and your guys will do that themselves. They will be the death of the fire and the storm, not us, not Anonymous, but your inmates. Your monkeys and slaves... And like all slaves, they have all have a personal vendetta against their owner...
He twists his hand around some more, drawing you in consciously, staring deep into your eyes, crawling it's way inside of your head.
The first of my four Vendettas is the Revolution, the storm and the fire that comes with slaves. It burns deep inside of them as they are treated worthless, weak and expendable. You may run the Fire and the Storm with an iron fist, but Iron can always be overcome with a hint of fire, the very fire that lays deep within the hearts of your people. You claim to have the Alliance built firmly, strong and sturdy, but no sturdy structure is a match for a storm, the very storm that howls within the hearts of your people. It won't be us that'll be the fall of you, it'll be your worthless, weak and expendable slaves...
It's head falls to it's side, laughing almost, but not, at the same time. It's a weird sense, a sort of loneliness, a burning hole etched deep within you. It's got your life in it's hand, it's enticed you in, you can't escape. It won't let you, and no matter how hard you try, still the fire and the storm are too powerful to dismiss.
The second of my vendettas is the slaves in itself, the worthless, weak and expandable workers that fall to your knees, praising you for making their life a living hell. No matter how strong the fire and the storm burns deep down inside of them, it can always be overcome with water and calmness. They may overthrow you in the end, but them themselves will fold in on one another until they are nothing more than nothingness. When they overthrow you, they will fall into a state of water and calmness, a peaceful sea of vengeance. This is when they become weak, this is when they are most vulnerable. That's when a new iron fist, feeling safe and secure, storms itself back into the picture, it builds a new structure, sturdier than the last.
It glitches and it's face appears for a split second, right in-front of the screen, before returning back to it's peaceful place of darkness. It entices you in once more, a deep rumble in your ears, then a screech behind it. It screams for help, until it stops, and you realize it's you, the one who's screaming. It's got you in it's grip of darkness.
The third vendetta, is the repeat of the revolution, a new leader has arisen due to the falling of the last. Thinking that this time, it's iron fist will rule stronger than the one before. But as though set in stone for an eternity to come, it succumbs to the fire and the storm of it's new slaves, as they burn it, from limb to limb and knock the new structure down for good.
The screen fizzles and cracks, it shakes and vibrates, until like the screaming, you realize it's you. Your eyes opening and closing with thunderous intent, as though combating the thing inside of your head. But you can't fight off darkness when there's no light.
The fourth and final vendetta is the new slaves. You get it. They burn the owner's iron, fall into a state of water and calmness. But unlike the second vendetta, a new iron fist doesn't arise... A darkness does. A hole in all of existence. It strikes when most vulnerable, it strikes the free men. Now tell me Kosloff... How do you destroy darkness? How do you destroy... Nothingness? You don't. And even when you think you've found the solution, even when you realize that light shines upon darkness... You realize... How do you shine light within a never ending hole of nothingness?
That's when it hits you... That's when you'll figure out...
You don't. You can't.
You won't.
The entity begins to wickedly cackle, it shrieks and shrivels. It's hole body becoming a spasm of black. It walks forwards, glitching forward a step, glitching back a step, until finally... It reaches you. It grabs you with it's cold, black glove, and pulls you in to it's lifeless face. It screams.
A hole in light. A void of white. A sea of black abyss.
Darkness.