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~The Anthology II~

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A White Wolf

A White Wolf

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Seeing a large pedestal in the center of the antechamber, right in front of an odd doorway sealed with stone, Aymar picked Ki up and set him on top of it to rest while he began looting the relics within the tomb.
Suddenly, a huge resounding boom echoed off of the carved stone walls as the pedestal began to sink into the ground. Dust cascaded off of the walls as the entire tomb shook, like an underground earthquake. (c) Ki stirred, then fell unconscious once more.
After the pedestal sank down about a foot, barbed chains suddenly fell from the ceiling onto the pedestal, sinking deeply into Ki's flesh and pinning him to the surface. The first of several throat-tearing screams issued from Ki as he awoke to the most excrutiating pain he had ever felt.
"THE BLOOD HAS BEEN PAID! THE SEAL HAS BEEN BROKEN!" a rasping, echoing voice boomed from seemingly everywhere at once. The sound of Ki screaming and the voice made Aymar want to tear out his ears and eyes, the voice made of insanity itself.
The chains digging into Ki's flesh began to move but stayed just as taut, slowly cutting the top half-inch of his flesh away as they turned. The chains began swirling faster, until Ki's tortured howls of pain were, to Aymar, the only evidence left of his friend. A red haze of blood stained the walls as Ki was slowly skinned and shredded alive by the chains. Blood so red it was black began oozing thickly across the floor.
***
"If only I hadn't knocked him out...my...my friend!" Heaves of sobbing began anew from Aymar as he tried to squeeze from the fissure.
As he tried to get out, something grabbed his leg.
He turned slowly, desperately hoping it wasn't what he thought it was.

19-Jun-2008 03:49:02 - Last edited on 01-Dec-2008 19:02:25 by A White Wolf

A White Wolf

A White Wolf

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A figure of nothing but blood and muscle feebly clutched his leg with a hand of mere sinew, unseeing eye sockets weeping tears of bright blood and white gelatinous vitreous fluid from his ruined eyes. A hoarse unintelligible whisper issued from his mouth, and a convulsion racked Ki's ruined body. He then lay still, blood seeping from his exposed muscles as his heart beat its last.
Bolting out of the fissure, Aymar ran and ran.
***
Two days after Aymar's lifeless body was found skinned, his eyes gouged out, a plague of shadows began wrecking havoc across the land. Only one person, Reldo the librarian, knew that the tomb of Zamorak had been opened.

THE END

19-Jun-2008 03:50:15 - Last edited on 19-Jun-2008 03:53:20 by A White Wolf

A White Wolf

A White Wolf

Posts: 8,377 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Crickets chirped in the humid night as hurried footsteps pounded across a moist dirt path. Deep in the woods north of the Seer's Village, a man was running. No - sprinting. His name was Jerrad and he was sprinting in terror, his greatest fear pursuing him with silent steps.
He tripped and fell, dirt streaking his hands, chest and clothing as he sprawled across the path. With a quickly stifled cry he leaped up and darted behind a maple, the red leaves nearly glowing from the full moon above. He tried to slow his breathing, tried to slow his heartbeat, tried to become the tree.
Jerrad’s breathing was ragged however, panting harshly in the moonlight. He knew the other could hear him. Jerrad could almost picture him silently stal(*)king through the trees, smelling the air, inhuman senses slowly but surely pinpointing his location.
The nearly silent rustle of cloth over cloth caught Jerrad’s attention. He tried to slowly peer out from behind the tree to see his pursuer as quietly as he could.
No one...nothing.
Panic-stricken, Jerrad hastily threw himself behind the tree again. “Oh Divine Zamorak…Oh…help me…” he mumbled in fear, hoping and praying death would not visit soon.
A light tap on his shoulder caused him to jump a few dozen feet into the air. Stifling a scream he slowly turned to see what had tapped him.
He wished he hadn’t.
Total blackness was his first impression. His second was…
“Death is this short?” he asked incredulously, stifling not a scream this time, but a laugh. To think, a little boy in a costume had frightened him this badly.
“Yeh, death is.” a husky voice said from somewhere within the deep black robes and cloths.
“Huh?” Jerrad said, stupidly. Two knives had seemingly blossomed out of his body, one at his neck, one at his chest. As he gurgled out the last of his life through his throat and heart, his pursuer sighed. As he pulled the knives from his bounty’s dead body, he casually wiped them on Jerrad’* clothing.

19-Jun-2008 03:58:25 - Last edited on 08-Dec-2008 22:36:51 by A White Wolf

A White Wolf

A White Wolf

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“Ugh, I hate being short,” a slightly less husky voice said. The hunter stepped into the moonlight, long black robes swirling around in the slight breeze. The wooden handles of steel knives in two crossed bandoleers caught the feeble moonlight, along with a enchanted shortbow and a yew quaterstaff in carriers on his back. Two long, curved single-edged swords, one at each hip, swayed as he walked. Black leather gloves covered his hands, and a black hood shielded his face from any passer-by’s random glances.
His cloak swirled out, revealing more black clothing underneath the long cloak, and black cloth wrapped around his wrists and shins, preventing any skin’* exposure at all.
The only thing not covered were a pair of large, dark green eyes. They caused fear more than any other aspect of the hunter, the moonlight catching and reflecting in them, giving the profound appearance that they glowed a bright, vivid green. Seldom seen except by his prey, nothing said death louder than glimpsing those glowing green eyes.
A piece of cloth covered his mouth and nose, and also covered a metal facemask, preventing any air-borne toxin or poison from affecting him.
With a whirl of his hands the hunter drew back his hood, revealing starkly contrasting pure white hair. Another pause and he drew back his facemask, spiky white locks blowing slowly in the slight midnight breeze.
“Ah…that’s better...” he said, although, without the facemask and hood covering his face, it was very clear he was actually a she. "Stupid mask...impossible to breathe in..." she muttered as she let the mask fall around her neck.
Drawing one of her swords with a practiced motion she smoothly decapitated the body, and left it there for some unlucky traveler to find. Placing the head in a bag, she stood up, drawing her hood and mask on as she stood.
A swirl of the breeze, a swirl of a cloak, and Twilight’s Shadow, feared bounty hunter, disappeared into the night's embrace.

19-Jun-2008 03:58:26 - Last edited on 08-Dec-2008 22:38:42 by A White Wolf

Aelfsaxa

Aelfsaxa

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Since I no longer have a fear of you, Wolfeh, I'm actually... Posting on your story! I never posted on the original Anthology back when you made it because I used to be scared of you for whatever reason.
Now, let's see this remake get somewhere. That first story was great. ^.^
*** Sokreshel, Platinum Member of the Writers Elite ~*~

19-Jun-2008 03:59:24

A White Wolf

A White Wolf

Posts: 8,377 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Glad you liked it, Eeda. :-)
I'm kind of glad I have to re-make this. It gives people a reason to read my stories again, or to at least get the attention of new authors who've not read this before.
Twilight's Shadow is up!
EDIT: Lol, Dragon. The older Anthology probably would've burst into flame or exploded had you posted on the original.
But now that it's 2001 posts, it's time to re-make lol.

19-Jun-2008 04:00:01 - Last edited on 19-Jun-2008 04:00:48 by A White Wolf

Aelfsaxa

Aelfsaxa

Posts: 7,357 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
I probably would've been more remembered if I had posted on your thread at some point in the earlier days.
Honestly, I don't see how you guys do it. I'm at least as old as you are (Story Forum-wise), and yet people continue to ignore me while you're still as well-known as you ever were.
~*~ Sokreshel, Platinum Member of the Writers Elite ~*~

19-Jun-2008 04:04:51

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