Post by Razgat on Feb 23, 2009 22:25:37 GMT -5
The streets of Paris were desolate as the pitter patter of rain could be heard falling onto the weary stones of the town. The sky was filled with dark clouds that gave the city a dark blue tint. The streets felt solemn and lonely without the bustle of people. Thunder could be heard aloud every few seconds as more rain poured onto the poor city. All of this made the air feel static and insufferable. It wasn’t surprising that every man kept his own in the safety of his abode, but any travelers would be seeking shelter from the oncoming storm. It was weather like this that usually brought the inns many customers, but none were open. No one was foolish enough to walk about in anything like this.
It seemed Paris was surely in for a terrible night. The local alley cats were hiding amongst the rubbish from the fish monger when they suddenly leapt from their spots and scattered as a young girl scurried past them. She was clutching the small cloak that barely went below her waist. Her red, bell-shaped skirt flowed behind her as her ankle boots splashed through the puddles left by the pouring rain. A soft glint came off of a rather large gold pendant on her cloak. She panted heavily as she sprinted through the alleyways. She was constantly checking behind her, fearing the worst. When she checked once again, she suddenly slipped into a deep puddle. She quickly struggled to lift herself up and caught herself before she slipped again. She glanced behind her and ran ahead, her dress now heavy from the soaking.
She came into a large square in front of a towering cathedral. She glanced once at its stain glass windows and tall, engraved doors before jumping at the sound of footsteps behind her. She looked back with horror as she saw a far off black figure, the glint of a long sword under his cloak. She turned around again, nearly tripping her own feet, and ran up the church’s steep stairs to the doors. She attempted to open them, but they were locked tight. She turned around to check on her pursuer as he gained distance. She could easily see the determined expression on his deformed face. She started to panic and whirled around to stand on her tiptoes to reach the large door knockers above her. She pounded them against the stone doors as hard as she could, screaming at the top of her lungs “Sanctuary! Sanctuary!”
She shouted over and over, constantly looking behind her at the approaching figure. Tears were streaming down her face as she lost her strength to lift the knockers. She resorted to pounding her fists on the doors, but she had already lost much of her strength from running and pounding. She sunk into a small heap in front of the doors, leaning against them and crying out for someone to open the door. The pursuer came closer and closer to his target as the girl watched hopelessly from her position.
The doors behind her suddenly opened a slight crack as an old friar peered through. The young girl looked up and sighed with relief as she quickly got up and shoved her way through the doors. She turned around and slammed them shut as she entered. The friar was looking her over, holding a candle in his hand. “What in God’s name is this?”
The girl grabbed his arm and began leading him up the aisle and away from the door. “Please, friar, I must seek shelter here. I am being pursued by a terrible man. He will surely kill me! I fear for my life, friar, and pray that you will take me in!”
The friar opened his eyes wide as he listened to the poor girl. She had to stoop a little to be with his eyelevel. He was very short and plump. His hair had grown feather like and white as wrinkles spread over his face. He felt sorry for the young soul in front of him, and he opened his mouth to oblige, but a loud bang came from the door. Dust spurted from the doors as another loud noise came from the doors. The friar rushed to the front of the aisle as the girl froze in the middle closer to the alter. One more loud noise came from the door as it slammed open. A tall dark figure in a black cloak and robes stepped into the cathedral. He had a black cloth over the bottom half of his face, but his hood came down over his eyes. He ignored the friar and stared directly at the girl. He glanced for only a second before pulling out his long sword from his ropes.
The friar stepped up and tried to make himself look tall with authority. He held up the candle next to his face in an entitled manor. “In the name of God, I forbid you from going any further into Arcielo Cathedral!”
The dark man merely looked down upon the old friar before grabbing the edge of the candle holder and flipping it onto his face. The wax spread over his wrinkles and robe as the tip of the candle pierced his eye, and flames were spattered everywhere. The friar screamed in agony as a steady river of blood flowed from his eye. The man in black observed for only half a minute before launching his sword through the friar’s plump belly. The friar’s screams were soon muffled as he fell over into pools of his own blood. The girl stared at him as blood flowed from his eyes, nose, and mouth. She shuddered at the sight, but jumped up alert as the man in black took a step forward. Every step she took backward, he took a step forward. He was much taller than she was, though, so he slowly began closing the distance between them.
The girl soon had no more space behind her. She tripped over the stairs up to the alter and fell just next to the display of holiness. She slowly brought herself up and cowered next to the table. The man slowly approached her and paused at the bottom of the steps. She glanced around her and saw a tall pole with a cross at the end with a sharp point on the top. She grabbed in and slammed it straight up in front of her. She held it with authority as if it could stop him dead in his tracks. He merely took a step closer. Her stance soon sunk as she realized she was doing no good. She scanned the cross and saw that it was sharp like a spear at the bottom. She quickly whirled it up so that the sharp end pointed at the man. The cross pointed at herself.
The man paused at this, and slowly sheathed his sword. The girl gasped at the sight, and the corners of her mouth slightly curled up into a smile, but it faded when the man took a final step toward her. His stomach was just in front of the spear. She stared up at him, tightening her grip on the pole trying to hold a firm expression on her face. She didn’t want to show any fear. The man did nothing. He simply stood there overlooking the girl. Her firm expression began to slowly fade and turn into anxiety. She had to make the next move. “Stay back! This is a house of holiness. You can’t harm me here, or your soul will burn in hell.” She poked him a bit with the end of her spear.
The man laughed, pulling his head back. It sounded soulless and malicious. It sent shivers down the girl’s spine. The laughter suddenly stopped as his head snapped back, his neck cracking loudly as he did so. “Silly girl, my soul is already damned. Hell does not scare me.” His voice sounded snake-like and hushed. It made the girl think of daemons and monsters.
He suddenly took a step forward, piercing himself with the spear. The girl stared in horror as he slowly let the spear go further into his body, getting closer and closer to her. He soon reached the end just before the cross at the top and towered over the girl. Normally, a body this close would emit warmth, but she only felt a chill from him. She looked up at him with terror in her eyes, tears were streaming out of them. She struggled to speak out of fear of the words being her last. “Dear God…”
The man chuckled and leaned closely to her, whispering in her ear, “God can’t save you now.”
It seemed Paris was surely in for a terrible night. The local alley cats were hiding amongst the rubbish from the fish monger when they suddenly leapt from their spots and scattered as a young girl scurried past them. She was clutching the small cloak that barely went below her waist. Her red, bell-shaped skirt flowed behind her as her ankle boots splashed through the puddles left by the pouring rain. A soft glint came off of a rather large gold pendant on her cloak. She panted heavily as she sprinted through the alleyways. She was constantly checking behind her, fearing the worst. When she checked once again, she suddenly slipped into a deep puddle. She quickly struggled to lift herself up and caught herself before she slipped again. She glanced behind her and ran ahead, her dress now heavy from the soaking.
She came into a large square in front of a towering cathedral. She glanced once at its stain glass windows and tall, engraved doors before jumping at the sound of footsteps behind her. She looked back with horror as she saw a far off black figure, the glint of a long sword under his cloak. She turned around again, nearly tripping her own feet, and ran up the church’s steep stairs to the doors. She attempted to open them, but they were locked tight. She turned around to check on her pursuer as he gained distance. She could easily see the determined expression on his deformed face. She started to panic and whirled around to stand on her tiptoes to reach the large door knockers above her. She pounded them against the stone doors as hard as she could, screaming at the top of her lungs “Sanctuary! Sanctuary!”
She shouted over and over, constantly looking behind her at the approaching figure. Tears were streaming down her face as she lost her strength to lift the knockers. She resorted to pounding her fists on the doors, but she had already lost much of her strength from running and pounding. She sunk into a small heap in front of the doors, leaning against them and crying out for someone to open the door. The pursuer came closer and closer to his target as the girl watched hopelessly from her position.
The doors behind her suddenly opened a slight crack as an old friar peered through. The young girl looked up and sighed with relief as she quickly got up and shoved her way through the doors. She turned around and slammed them shut as she entered. The friar was looking her over, holding a candle in his hand. “What in God’s name is this?”
The girl grabbed his arm and began leading him up the aisle and away from the door. “Please, friar, I must seek shelter here. I am being pursued by a terrible man. He will surely kill me! I fear for my life, friar, and pray that you will take me in!”
The friar opened his eyes wide as he listened to the poor girl. She had to stoop a little to be with his eyelevel. He was very short and plump. His hair had grown feather like and white as wrinkles spread over his face. He felt sorry for the young soul in front of him, and he opened his mouth to oblige, but a loud bang came from the door. Dust spurted from the doors as another loud noise came from the doors. The friar rushed to the front of the aisle as the girl froze in the middle closer to the alter. One more loud noise came from the door as it slammed open. A tall dark figure in a black cloak and robes stepped into the cathedral. He had a black cloth over the bottom half of his face, but his hood came down over his eyes. He ignored the friar and stared directly at the girl. He glanced for only a second before pulling out his long sword from his ropes.
The friar stepped up and tried to make himself look tall with authority. He held up the candle next to his face in an entitled manor. “In the name of God, I forbid you from going any further into Arcielo Cathedral!”
The dark man merely looked down upon the old friar before grabbing the edge of the candle holder and flipping it onto his face. The wax spread over his wrinkles and robe as the tip of the candle pierced his eye, and flames were spattered everywhere. The friar screamed in agony as a steady river of blood flowed from his eye. The man in black observed for only half a minute before launching his sword through the friar’s plump belly. The friar’s screams were soon muffled as he fell over into pools of his own blood. The girl stared at him as blood flowed from his eyes, nose, and mouth. She shuddered at the sight, but jumped up alert as the man in black took a step forward. Every step she took backward, he took a step forward. He was much taller than she was, though, so he slowly began closing the distance between them.
The girl soon had no more space behind her. She tripped over the stairs up to the alter and fell just next to the display of holiness. She slowly brought herself up and cowered next to the table. The man slowly approached her and paused at the bottom of the steps. She glanced around her and saw a tall pole with a cross at the end with a sharp point on the top. She grabbed in and slammed it straight up in front of her. She held it with authority as if it could stop him dead in his tracks. He merely took a step closer. Her stance soon sunk as she realized she was doing no good. She scanned the cross and saw that it was sharp like a spear at the bottom. She quickly whirled it up so that the sharp end pointed at the man. The cross pointed at herself.
The man paused at this, and slowly sheathed his sword. The girl gasped at the sight, and the corners of her mouth slightly curled up into a smile, but it faded when the man took a final step toward her. His stomach was just in front of the spear. She stared up at him, tightening her grip on the pole trying to hold a firm expression on her face. She didn’t want to show any fear. The man did nothing. He simply stood there overlooking the girl. Her firm expression began to slowly fade and turn into anxiety. She had to make the next move. “Stay back! This is a house of holiness. You can’t harm me here, or your soul will burn in hell.” She poked him a bit with the end of her spear.
The man laughed, pulling his head back. It sounded soulless and malicious. It sent shivers down the girl’s spine. The laughter suddenly stopped as his head snapped back, his neck cracking loudly as he did so. “Silly girl, my soul is already damned. Hell does not scare me.” His voice sounded snake-like and hushed. It made the girl think of daemons and monsters.
He suddenly took a step forward, piercing himself with the spear. The girl stared in horror as he slowly let the spear go further into his body, getting closer and closer to her. He soon reached the end just before the cross at the top and towered over the girl. Normally, a body this close would emit warmth, but she only felt a chill from him. She looked up at him with terror in her eyes, tears were streaming out of them. She struggled to speak out of fear of the words being her last. “Dear God…”
The man chuckled and leaned closely to her, whispering in her ear, “God can’t save you now.”