A DEAD MAN'S TALE, the story of a dying man Options

[Mazelure]

A Dead Man’s Tale


Diego could be seen drinking bottle after bottle of flin… everyone in the bar was staring at him… “How can a man drink so much?” was in everyone mind. Everyone’s except one… a young boy who could see through Diego’s desperate attempt to numb the pain… by filling the empty hole inside with alcohol…he has seen it before in others… but none showed as much pain and desperation as Diego…

Diego felt cold and empty inside… he no longer cared about what others thought… he just wanted to replace the pain with something… with anything… but he knew that no amount of alcohol will ever fill the hole inside his chest… but he had to try even if it was in vain… even if it killed him.

Each flin he drank helped him face the truth… that he was alone… that he will always be alone… that he was already dead inside… only that his brain did not know it yet.

His eye were empty of emotion, slowly scanning his surroundings… watching all… then gazing at the table before him… filled with empty bottles of flin… and then the beautiful melody crawled in his ears and into his intoxicated brain.

Such melody… “Music of the gods” Diego slowly whispered.

It got louder and louder… and with the increase of volume Diego’s pain decreased in size. He slowly turned to the left to see a young Breton boy playing a lute that fit perfectly in his arms… as if it was a part of him… an extension of his arms…

“Leave me alone child… I have no money… I have nothing… so just leave this poor man to his drinking…” Diego whispered the words slowly as if every one pained him to speak.

“Don’t worry… this song is free of charge” the boy responded with concern in his eyes and sadness in his voice.

“I don’t need your sympathy… I don’t need your charity either… but I will be willing to barter.” Diego told the small boy.

“I’m listening old man.”

“Now listen closely you fetcher… I will be willing to tell you how this once mighty hero lost everything… how I was loved and respected… how much my wife and children adored me… and how everything was taken away… ripped away from my grasp…and in exchange you will play that soothing melody to help ease the pain.”

“That sounds like a deal old man” the young child responded even though he truly did not wish to listen to this poor man’s story… he never liked listening about the suffering of others.

The bar was half empty now… and in the middle of the room a child could be seen playing a beautiful melody for a dyeing man… listening to a dead man’s tale…


I hope this is the beginning of a good story… and remember I’ll appreciate some criticism… and by the way…

Kudos… Kudos

This post has been edited by Mazelure: May 23 2006, 03:40 AM

[Mazelure]

No worries Ice and thanks for the advice… I probably would have polished the battle scene a bit more if I wasn’t in the hurry to reach the end… but rest assure that I will spent as much time as I need on my other battle scenes… by the way if the part when the boy asked Diego what was wrong was the one that confused you… you have to remember that all this time Diego has been telling his story and the boy has been playing his lute for him… I should make it more obvious since I keep forgetting that you guy’s cant read my mind… but I’ll remember next time…



A DEAD MAN’S TALE


Jasko and I were puzzled… if Kain was not the real threat here then who was? Who could be more malicious than Kain? The thought of someone more powerful than Kain frighten me… along with the knowledge that the village champions were away… it meant that… that the village can be attacked any minute now!

Jasko and I had no time to honor our fallen comrades. We had to race towards the village before something terrible would happened… to at least warn them of a bigger danger would have been enough… but we did not make it in time…we could not have been on time… the village was already attacked… the village has been destroyed since the day we had left it…

When Jasko and I arrived at our home… we only found the streets covered with the corpses of the people we had grown up with… the village was nothing more than a horrific sight that I could never haved imagined … guards laid on the floor with there heads several yards away from there decaying bodies… women’s corpses decorated the streets of our village… even the children’s bodies laid rotting allover the place… this was no longer our village… no… it was a gateway to oblivion… a gateway reserved for Jasko and I alone…

We were dumbstruked… we could not think… we could not move… we just stared at the devastated ruin of a village… until a eternity passed… and both Jasko and I began to regain our strength… and even then my stomach spasmed… never the less we began to explore the horrific sight… in search of any survivors… but we found none…

Instead we found an atrocity beyond imagination… within my very own house… my house decorated with the corpses of my wife and children… was the puppet master awaiting for our arrival…

The pure sight of him drowned me in a sea of despair… he was nothing short of a demon… a horrific beast from the deepest and darkest pits of oblivion… he was a giant… even surpassing Jasko in size… he wore nothing more than pitch black pants… his body was pale white… as if his skin has never seen daylight… well at least the skin that was not covered by those horrific demonic tattoos… even his face and bare head were covered by them… and his hands were drenched in dark crimson blood that without a doubt belonged to my family…

He stared at me… his eyes were smiling… overwhelmed with joy… and I found myself unable to move… to even breath… my entire body was paralyzed… but Jasko was not… and he was seeking revenge…

Jasko charged at him… restraining nothing as he was completely consumed in rage… his furry would not be stopped by any mortal… but unfortunately for Jasko the monster was not mortal… he could not have been… the damn thing ripped Jasko apart… with it’s bare damn hands… I could only watch in horror how the monsters tattoos came to life and completely tore Jasko to shreds.

I sat and watch the whole thing unable to move… I heard how Jasko screamed… I heard his flesh being torn apart… but I could do nothing… no matter how hard I tried… I could only watch as the monster sliced Jasko’s flesh along with his soul…

The monster had his fun… and decided to finish Jasko off… his tattoo on his right arm came to life… it extended and then it transformed into a long blade… a blade with the ability of movement… it wrapped itself around Jasko’s neck and… and Jasko’s suffering had come to an end… but not mine… mine would be much worse than Jasko’s fate…

The monster walked up to me… his voice was cold and sharp like broken glass… he told me he will kill me… he will kill me in a much slower way… but never the less… I will die… and so I have… ever since that day a year ago… I’m nothing more than a corpse… a corpse decaying from the inside out…

Diego was back in the bar… with the boy standing next to him… the boy had stopped playing his lute for a while now… the boy was speechless… unable to respond to Diego’s story… he had heard stories of dark nature before… but this one truly froze his blood ice cold…

Diego looked at the small boy… and then he saw it… he saw the boy’s soul… a clean one… a soul untouched by evil… and then Diego felt red hot shame… shame for exposing such a pure soul to his own horrific past… to his horrific nightmare that haunted him night after night… day after day… never letting him rest… killing him slowly without remorse…

“Take me to my room boy… it’s up the stairs and to the far left corner” Diego told the small boy… and the small boy obeyed… he grabbed Diego by the arm and walked him to his room…

Diego slowly raised his hand and took out a small key out of his pocket… he inserted it to the lock and opened the door o so slowly… he walked in by himself and left the door wide open… the boy gazed inside the room and saw a red bottle on top one of the dresser… for some reason the bottle grabbed the boy’s full attention and it would no let it go… it did not let go until Diego returned with a small amulet in his hand… he tied it around the Breton boy’s neck and sent him on his way home…

The child looked down at his new amulet… it gave off this warm comforting feeling… the boy hold on to it with his hand until he reached home and got ready for bed…

That night the boy kept dreaming of the red bottle inside of Diego’s room… when he awoke the next morning the picture of the bottle still burned within his brain… he could not keep his curiosity at bay… he decided to go and ask Diego what it was…

The boy got dressed and grabbed his lute… he ran toward the bar… but when he reached the entrance he saw two guards and the owner of the bar talking… when he got closer to them… the manager grabbed him by the shoulder and knelt down…

“Boy… do you remember the man you were playing you lute for last night?”

“Yes sir… I remember him… why?… is there something wrong sir?”

“Son… he is dead…”

The word “dead” echoed within the boy’s mind over and over… this could not be true… it could not be true… he had walked the man to his room the last night and he seemed to be alive that night… how could he die?

The boy broke from the man’s grasp and raced towards Diego’s room… one of the guards ran after him… the other was stopped by the manager…

The boy felt as if his was running for all eternity… but when he reached Diego’s room he saw it… he saw Diego sitting down in one of the chairs… his dead cold eyes were fixed on the boy… and in his left hand… in his left hand was that red bottle that the boy had seen the night before…

The guard put his hand slowly on the boy’s shoulder…

“He committed suicide…”

The boy never looked away from Diego’s dead eyes… they were filled with joy… with unspeakable joy…


Thanks everyone for your comments and that’s it… but if you are disappointed… don’t be… like I said before this is only an opening story for another one… but if you did like it… than that’s even better…

Kudos… Kudos

This post has been edited by Mazelure: May 26 2006, 08:23 PM