Fanfiction ► Nullity

[sparta]

Prologue

Whipping in and out, in and out, pink in color and surrounded by a row of serated teeth and with a scaley lip overhinging and covering the gum-line the serpent's tongue tasted the ember's in the air. It's body coiled around its masters waist, draped across his chest and finnaly wrapping in finality around his right for-arm resting its chin slightly on the back of his hand. A tan-green color in nature but this was a speciel beast. It's scales flashed a reflection of it's surroundings. It's bod' adorned a long red streak that split off into many thinning branches whiloe the scales of its' head and side reflected to gold hue of it's masters' light armorment and under-belly white as the most glorious of pearls.
it's head arched back to face it's master and partner. It's eyes were like he moon above and forced not but the truth from all who looked into them, betrayel would not be tolerated and the serpent would make sure of that.
"Rest easy Ophi".
His amster soothed the beast's quick mounting temper, with just but the finnality in his voice, using the snake's pet name.
"The day is ours and the scape below, while dessimated, is not ruined. It can be used".
The serpent was honostly pleased in the truest sense of the word. He had been deer friend's with his master for sucha long time and the sudden escalation to such power was exhilerating, whethor or not his master could handle such a thing was unknown but he has shown much controll and responsibility with it. The snake was just a few centimeters into the turning of his head when his eye was caught by his friend's next actions.
He lifted his left hand to chest level and in it rested the handle of his second most powerfull weapon, second only to the snake, the serpent marvelled in the beutty and elegency of the hand gaurd that encompessed the handle in a full oblong shape.
The blade of the magnificent thing was pointed downward towards the ground \ and as the weilder's golden cland arm tensed the snake knew what would transpire and lit up with joy.

Below the rocky face the two had been standing an entire world had been set on fire and had been broken down into ruins and the aftermath of what could be called a catastrophe. An entire world had been burned to the ground. People scoured everywhere and anywhere to find safety from the two invaders that had come to them from the stars and their horrible weapon that had begot, unto the inhabitants of this world, ruin. With single sweeps they had tore down the foundation of government that had been built in the ten thousand years of progress the super advanced race had made. So much power and yet they fell to an ancient and almost forgotten fire side tale.
The blade slammed against the ground and the burnign world was put out and was reduced to desert sand. They had a new home.

End of prologue

 

[sparta]

Chapter One: Immaculate Birth?:


Clashing blades rung sharp and hung veminosly in the air throughout the city. Spire's toppled over and cratered the ground wherever gravity took them. Panic overtook the populace and the hysteria of the moment overtook all other senses and self preservation was the theme of the day.
Metal scraped metal and the soldiers of the protectorate were all slayed systematically. The dark shadow's of death were quick to execute the inferior creatures of this world and did so splendidly. This was now a world to be forgotten, if it were too survive the day it would not nor could not be rebuilt. Too much culture and history would be lost for anything to be the same. Monasteries, the epicenters of knowledge, were being burned to the ground. The nobility assassinated without the pleasantry of any discretion.
Ten thousand years of war and peace were coming unraveled in a matter of hours.

...

The crack of wood was deafening and instinct took over. When a second kick was delivered and shattered open the portal into the small hovel of a house and the shine of a blades edge poked through dangerously and threatened the safety of its inhabitants it was all a mother could do to save her children in hope they would survive.
She reached out and gripped the handgaurd of the ominous scimitar with her right hand and with her left delivered a punch into the face of the black-blue skinned face of her cloaked enemy. His head whipped back and a stark line of red blood leaked from his nose. Shifting her weight and twisting to the right she brought her left arm again into a punch against the side of the dark skinned creature. With her right arm still clamped around the sword she repositioned it on to his fore-arm and began to twist it clockwise forcing him to drop the blade, this was followed by here kneeing him below the rib cage and quite literally knocking the breath out of his lungs. He let out a long gasp but that was short lived as the mother kicked him out of her immediate proximity and retrieved the felled sword and crudely stabbed it through the creature. She was in no way a trained warrior and the cut wasn't a clean one. She would only drive it in only a centimeter or two before she had to regrip the handle and struggle to push it deeper into the poor creature.
All the while the slow come of death was agonizingly painful and the dark skinned one grappled his hands against the mother's cheek's and began to dig into her face with his long and sharp fingernails, drawing long lines of blood from her. in a rush to stop the attack the mother put all of her wait behind the sword and pushed the handle down having the opposite effect on the blade making it cut upward. and the driving it forward and slicing halfway through the beast's heart or it would have, had he had a heart. Never the less the beast could not survive and perished and far more easily than getting on to the blade it slid off and lay bleeding in the cobblestone street outside of the hovel.
Turning around to check on her defenseless children the mother met with disaster. From out of a side street an ally of the dark skinned creature had come out to see the carcass of its kin and full of revenge had unsheathed its scimitar, of exact same appearance as its partner's, and slid it expertly through the mother. It was not long before others moved into the area and stabbed into the mother. First two swords and then three than six. She looked down and coming from her breast and stomach were the many killing scimitar blades all of the same sickening design.
Her dying eyes looked up and through a stain of red saw her three children. Than she lurched over, without the blades to support her she fell over when they pulled simultaneously from her. She turned around as she fell and landed with a thud against the hard solid dirt ground. Her arms sprawled open forming a "T" shape out of her body. Two of the creatures move quickly into the husk of a home and grabbed the second oldest child, a girl of eleven, and was quick to do away with her with a quick stab between her ribs. The other that moved in grabbed the youngest, a second daughter this one four, and took her head from her shoulders with an efficient swipe. Before either could move to the last child the oldest of the mother's children, roughly twenty, burst from a side room and, brandishing a kitchen knife, rushed at the murderous fiend’s.
The one who had killed the second oldest daughter, with a flick of his wrist, drove the sword into the lungs of the only son of the family and grabbed the oldest daughter's wrist, just below the knife, and twisted her arm behind her and let go of his scimitar and grabbed her around the waist. He continued to squeeze her wrist and the knife dropped out of her hand and with that she was hurled against the wall of the side room and slid down on to a poorly crafted bed.
She dazed in and out of consciousness and the last image she saw was the creature beginning to strip down.

...

it had been months since she had been taken by the monster and he had driven a dirk into her chest, she had watched countless liters of blood spill from her body but she remained alive and she cursed every moment of it. But in the six months she had been pinned to the bed by the blade she had noticed a change in her body. She could feel warmth deep within herself and now she had noticed herself beginning to swell. She knew that the babe she carried should not be living; she knew she should not be living. Yet here they were, one in the same, living against all odds. Was it immaculate, a blessing from either the god or the devil or was it the lineage of what she knew would be her son. On the ninth month of the carriage the child was birthed and without the child in her, the mother had died looking into her sons' golden eye's surrounded in the sea of an azure haze