10-02-2008, 11:49 PM
Recognition
Vicious’ head is full of a stirring blackness, his being slipping in and out. Memories of his mother and father dominating his dreams. Sounds start coming into focus, vision is returning, blurred but returning. The sounds turn into growls and voices. Echoing through the walls of his mind. Mental fatigue taking its toll on the seasoned warrior.
Vicious opened his eyes, and to his surprise and comfort, all he saw was black. At first he almost panicked thinking that his vision had gone array. His pupils dilated and he started to begin to make out the surroundings of his cell. From the minute amount of light he could make out walls, and piles of debris it seemed. When he surveyed closer they weren’t debris but piles of bones and torn fabric from ages ago. There had to be a score of piles here, some still attached to the walls of the cell. Recent victims who weren’t so lucky in their escape. The smell lingered to his nostrils, and the vile smell of death and rot. Vicious gagged and spewed up some of his own stomach vile. Not much, because he hasn’t ate in days. So dry heaves is all he managed. For hours this went on till he was able to cope with the smell and manage to breathe through his dried throat.
Then there was voice “Voluminous catar vun huchen trig”.
It was but a whisper to Vicious’ ears, but enough to alert the warrior in his mental and physical fatigue. A female It sounded like responded to the previous stranger.
“Cashi un Coveiatusious” The female replied in a harsh but quite tone.
The door jamb that held the door close, shifted slightly, so slightly that if Vicious was still asleep it would not have awoken the man. This scared him tremendously. Knowing that these things could have been starring and watching his very breathe. The door finally was ajar, but Vicious couldn’t see the being that had entered. He couldn’t hear his footsteps. Footsteps so silent they would rival a Drow Patrolmen in the Underdark. He only knew how close the perpetrator was when he felt the hot breathe on his neck. The silent wheezing of age and the breeze of his breathe assaulted Vicious’ sensibilities.
“Cashi un Coveiatusious?” cackled the man. Then he screamed “Calli tu Nosharati!” On command Vicious’ chains were lite a flame. Vicious screamed at the horror of the flames on his wrist’s and arms. Finally he realized the flame didn’t sting his limbs, but just danced on them. Like a sweet ballot commencing on his behalf. He was almost lost in the flames, when the creature giggled. The flames lit up enough of the room to make out finer details than before. Vicious looked down and at the creature in utter surprise. Nospheratu screamed at him in his mind. If Vicious wasn’t so engulfed of the sight of the first vampire, he would have noticed the second one enter the cell. Casting a spell to put him back into a slumber. Making precise and complicated gestures that revealed the magic users skills and abilities.
Then all Vicious saw was his mother calling for him in the pasture to join her on her walk. Fragrances aroused Vicious’ nostrils, smells he hasn’t experienced in years. He started to walk to his mother when he realized that her skin was much paler than when she was calling out to him. Her eyes had a hint of amber in them, not the usual bright blue eyes that filled him with so much hope and love many times before. She seemed smaller, more compact. Her facial feature weren’t so rounded and flat, but now they took on the images of hawk. With a pointed nose and an angular chin. He screamed when he realized she had him in her inhumanly grasp reaching to bite him.
Vicious awoke with a scream “Mother!” He watched the Vampires turnaround from the entrance of the cell. They uttered something in there own language, but Vicious couldn’t make out the whispers. “What…? W…hy? Who?” Then blackness over took his sensibilities.
Vicious’ head is full of a stirring blackness, his being slipping in and out. Memories of his mother and father dominating his dreams. Sounds start coming into focus, vision is returning, blurred but returning. The sounds turn into growls and voices. Echoing through the walls of his mind. Mental fatigue taking its toll on the seasoned warrior.
Vicious opened his eyes, and to his surprise and comfort, all he saw was black. At first he almost panicked thinking that his vision had gone array. His pupils dilated and he started to begin to make out the surroundings of his cell. From the minute amount of light he could make out walls, and piles of debris it seemed. When he surveyed closer they weren’t debris but piles of bones and torn fabric from ages ago. There had to be a score of piles here, some still attached to the walls of the cell. Recent victims who weren’t so lucky in their escape. The smell lingered to his nostrils, and the vile smell of death and rot. Vicious gagged and spewed up some of his own stomach vile. Not much, because he hasn’t ate in days. So dry heaves is all he managed. For hours this went on till he was able to cope with the smell and manage to breathe through his dried throat.
Then there was voice “Voluminous catar vun huchen trig”.
It was but a whisper to Vicious’ ears, but enough to alert the warrior in his mental and physical fatigue. A female It sounded like responded to the previous stranger.
“Cashi un Coveiatusious” The female replied in a harsh but quite tone.
The door jamb that held the door close, shifted slightly, so slightly that if Vicious was still asleep it would not have awoken the man. This scared him tremendously. Knowing that these things could have been starring and watching his very breathe. The door finally was ajar, but Vicious couldn’t see the being that had entered. He couldn’t hear his footsteps. Footsteps so silent they would rival a Drow Patrolmen in the Underdark. He only knew how close the perpetrator was when he felt the hot breathe on his neck. The silent wheezing of age and the breeze of his breathe assaulted Vicious’ sensibilities.
“Cashi un Coveiatusious?” cackled the man. Then he screamed “Calli tu Nosharati!” On command Vicious’ chains were lite a flame. Vicious screamed at the horror of the flames on his wrist’s and arms. Finally he realized the flame didn’t sting his limbs, but just danced on them. Like a sweet ballot commencing on his behalf. He was almost lost in the flames, when the creature giggled. The flames lit up enough of the room to make out finer details than before. Vicious looked down and at the creature in utter surprise. Nospheratu screamed at him in his mind. If Vicious wasn’t so engulfed of the sight of the first vampire, he would have noticed the second one enter the cell. Casting a spell to put him back into a slumber. Making precise and complicated gestures that revealed the magic users skills and abilities.
Then all Vicious saw was his mother calling for him in the pasture to join her on her walk. Fragrances aroused Vicious’ nostrils, smells he hasn’t experienced in years. He started to walk to his mother when he realized that her skin was much paler than when she was calling out to him. Her eyes had a hint of amber in them, not the usual bright blue eyes that filled him with so much hope and love many times before. She seemed smaller, more compact. Her facial feature weren’t so rounded and flat, but now they took on the images of hawk. With a pointed nose and an angular chin. He screamed when he realized she had him in her inhumanly grasp reaching to bite him.
Vicious awoke with a scream “Mother!” He watched the Vampires turnaround from the entrance of the cell. They uttered something in there own language, but Vicious couldn’t make out the whispers. “What…? W…hy? Who?” Then blackness over took his sensibilities.