Journey Through the Abyss

This is a story I started in year 10 as a piece of my original writing coursework, I never managed to finish it as I went into hospital for a prolonged period of time - since then I have had extreme writers block, and haven't had the nerve to continue writing. I think I'm ready now, and I'm ready to receive feedback on my work. If you could give me constructive criticism, that would be perfect - read it, comment on it, share it, help me fulfill my dreams and ambitions.

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1. Prologue

“It won’t last too long,” Brother Erwin said in a hushed tone. The other man with him looked around cautiously, he was clearly worried. Shrouded in black; this other figure obviously did not want anyone to see him. He had to see the final prophecy; he had to record it. His master had ordered it to be so. He did not even want to think about the consequences if he missed it, or recorded it incorrectly. He was half way through a chain of thought when a sudden noise brought his attention to it, the clanging of chains. Suddenly the sweet, yet sickly scent of excretement was thick in the air. The look of disgust was clear on his face; he did not like being here. He had been overwhelmed when his lord had asked him to do such a high ranked job, but had been overly scared of failure. Still, he had accepted. Rewards were high when working with his master. His master had been overjoyed when he had managed to corrupt one of the Brothers of the Light. He had implanted brother Erwin’s thoughts with ones of evil, and greed.

 

Suddenly a soft wheeze was echoed from down the halls. “Water… please. I… cannot live like this… any more, brother Erwin.” Then the raspy voice of Erwin was heard again, and a hard thud against the wall next to him. He turned and looked, seeing a body fall down with another thump. Then suddenly the mans back arched back, and a scream erupted from his mouth, not sounding human, then his mouth started frothing, and his eyes went wide, glowing slightly. A voice came from deep inside the man came, deep and alien to him. Speaking the prophecy that his master had so badly wanted to hear. Speaking the words that would doom him when he returned to the Temple of the Banished. He heard the words that would have him killed. He heard and he wept. He wept because he realised what life was really worth living for. For freedom. For love. For the safety of the next generation. He wept at the feet of brother Erwin, and died at the feet of brother Erwin. Yet still, the whispered words of the prophet echoed in his mind:

 

“There will one day be a man, one man he will save us all, yes, us all… He will be the wielder of the dragon, the one to kill his own kin. The one who will be born happy, and if the stars allow it – He will die happy. However; throughout points in his life, he will want to kill; he will want to feel the blood of his enemy slick across his face. He will be driven furious by the constant barrage of hate and bloodlust – It will be fed to him by the constant anger and pain of his own loss. He will be our very own soulless weapon of destruction – The Wielder of Dragons. But if he is not used wisely, if he is put into the hands of evil, if he is taken in by Goldin [also referred to as ‘Master of Death’ in some texts] Himself, like a child to his mothers breast; then our future will be eternal; eternal pain. We will be trapped in an everlasting abyss of hate and torture. For those of a pure soul, they will watch their loved ones ensnared in pain. For those of an impure soul, those corrupted to the side of Goldin; they will be rewarded. We will be forced to see our own Golden one, of the most pure of us married like a servant to the Master of Death himself. Our deepest and most corrupt thoughts will seem like a shadow compared to the thoughts that will consume us all. The Goddess of Pure and Goldin will walk our planet – Fighting to the death, and destroy our world – and as equals in strength – Good and Evil – they shall continue fighting for eternity whilst we have the Black Masked Ones rule us. Until the Battle of the Gods comes to an end, which by then it will be too late, there will be no pure souls left; they will have been carved for the pieces of the Master of Deaths game board.”

 

 

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