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+--- Thread: Night of the Hunter (/showthread.php?tid=83844)
Night of the Hunter - Constantine - 07-14-2012
Waiting for the rain... Waiting for the rain.
The beastley man was leaning out of the window of a high skyscraper. The night was looming over the city, melodic sound of the streets was reverbating towards his ears, his empty eyes catching aflight cars as they come into sight through the crowd of towering buildings. A few tears of sweat running through his skin, asking for the wind to splash on his face, waiting for the rain to pour down and chill his lost spirit.
The melody was becoming more comprehensible as he stood out, his ears getting used to it. Tiny fragments of intelligible words was reflecting on his mind from the voice of a little girl, with the spirit of a withering flower.
The beastley man let out a very aggressive sigh, so much that it electrified the air around him. The rain would not fall, a drop of a tear would be mixing with his salty sweat right on his lips.
The melody was becoming more comprehensible as he stood out, his ears getting used to it. Tiny fragments of intelligible words was reflecting on his mind from the voice of a little girl, with the spirit of a withering flower.
"-... Mother of-... a son
... signalling-... tower..."
The rain would not come, it was obvious from the night of the sky, no clouds, no wind, only the exhausting heat, the purple flash of the racing vessels, tiny marks and lights on the streets as he looks down upon the mild crowd of the people with their icecreams they are licking... and also that annoying melody, the wild incursion to his ears from a little girl singing inside a damn advertisement board of a cheap, third class-... signalling-... tower..."
"From the wild-...., the life of-....
-...less void, cold, empty, and lone"
The beast let out a silent growl, his senses sharpening, his whole being invaded by this hellish melody. His heart was aflame, the praying for the rain became a demand from the heavens. He could hear it all now, rocking his whole being, maddeningly, like a whistle coming directly from the god of the otherworld. Won't they leave him alone?-...less void, cold, empty, and lone"
"Purple flash of the mighty archons
With a screech cutting through the soul
Shivering the hearts of the most brave
From boiling heat to dust of ice"
"From the wild star, the life of his people
To the endless void, cold, empty, and lone"
"The Mother of all bore a son
The signalling Watchtower was set aflame
The End trumpets against the door of your world
The... -ion... must ...- on"
"Shut up..."
The board across the street, 30 meters afar from the window, crashed down on the road and a pile of bodies, the melody still living on for a few more seconds, then becoming a high pitched annoyance, a robotic muse of the devil. People were rushing around, covering their heads and plugging their ears, all afraid from the sudden incursion to their peaceful lives. With a screech cutting through the soul
Shivering the hearts of the most brave
From boiling heat to dust of ice"
"From the wild star, the life of his people
To the endless void, cold, empty, and lone"
"The Mother of all bore a son
The signalling Watchtower was set aflame
The End trumpets against the door of your world
The... -ion... must ...- on"
"Shut up..."
The beastley man let out a very aggressive sigh, so much that it electrified the air around him. The rain would not fall, a drop of a tear would be mixing with his salty sweat right on his lips.
Night of the Hunter - Constantine - 07-15-2012
Breath... Take in... Out...
The night above, the heat, the alarmed noise of the crowd... The man stood still, like the wind he would be expecting to ripple the air, unmoving. His eyes closed, beaten, no matter how hard he demands the heavens would not bow to his will. Breathing slowly, his lungs filled with that damp, hot air, his torso broadening wide with each inhale to let it calmly out.
...in... breath out... the relaxed beating of his heart was slowly being replaced by a racing one, his breathing becoming faster and faster. He was running through a field of long plants, like a tornado pushing everything away with a destructive force. There would be blood all over his body, there would be wounds and cuts, he wouldn't stop. There would be people mindlessly watching the travelling sun encroaching upon the horizon dusk, they would be thrown away, nothing would stop the race. But it was not enough... A purple flash from the horizon, and the race was lost.
The sky above was colored dark, reign of the night, night of the hunter.
In that pool of blood, with twenty mortal wounds stabbed over his giant back, he just laid. He would knew, that it is only the dusk, and the night would be harsh. He was almost happy with the defeat he suffered, and the weakness of his body would leave no room for the flare in his heart.
Rippling the red pool, a few tears from the night sky could survive the heat and reach to the thirsty earth. Darkness of the blood was softened by the tears of the sky, flooding the ground beneath until the man could no longer breath. He chose not to breath... He let the cold and dark waters take over the whole deal, rushing through the wounds of his body, filling in his whole being. A complete surrender, it felt so good, the fire inside was extinguished, the remains of his spirit evaporated.
A gasp in the dark, distant alarming noise, the rain falling upon his head and wetting his hair that's out of the window of his small apartment, eyes opening wide with the trumpeting thunder. He let his chin drop, turned around, faced the sky that's now filled with the dark clouds, though the night was aflare with the might of the thunder. The flare in the night was scary, lightening the world, it was the thunder's nature to be the rebellion in heavens, the wrath towards the dark, loud and sudden. Too weak to maintain that majesty, too strong with the destruction it could cause.
On his tongue the taste of the rain water took the man's thoughts elseware. Soothed him, calmed and cooled his body, washed down his sweat. Now only the loud siren of a hovering ambulance was disturbing him.
...in... breath out... the relaxed beating of his heart was slowly being replaced by a racing one, his breathing becoming faster and faster. He was running through a field of long plants, like a tornado pushing everything away with a destructive force. There would be blood all over his body, there would be wounds and cuts, he wouldn't stop. There would be people mindlessly watching the travelling sun encroaching upon the horizon dusk, they would be thrown away, nothing would stop the race. But it was not enough... A purple flash from the horizon, and the race was lost.
The sky above was colored dark, reign of the night, night of the hunter.
In that pool of blood, with twenty mortal wounds stabbed over his giant back, he just laid. He would knew, that it is only the dusk, and the night would be harsh. He was almost happy with the defeat he suffered, and the weakness of his body would leave no room for the flare in his heart.
Rippling the red pool, a few tears from the night sky could survive the heat and reach to the thirsty earth. Darkness of the blood was softened by the tears of the sky, flooding the ground beneath until the man could no longer breath. He chose not to breath... He let the cold and dark waters take over the whole deal, rushing through the wounds of his body, filling in his whole being. A complete surrender, it felt so good, the fire inside was extinguished, the remains of his spirit evaporated.
A gasp in the dark, distant alarming noise, the rain falling upon his head and wetting his hair that's out of the window of his small apartment, eyes opening wide with the trumpeting thunder. He let his chin drop, turned around, faced the sky that's now filled with the dark clouds, though the night was aflare with the might of the thunder. The flare in the night was scary, lightening the world, it was the thunder's nature to be the rebellion in heavens, the wrath towards the dark, loud and sudden. Too weak to maintain that majesty, too strong with the destruction it could cause.
On his tongue the taste of the rain water took the man's thoughts elseware. Soothed him, calmed and cooled his body, washed down his sweat. Now only the loud siren of a hovering ambulance was disturbing him.
Night of the Hunter - Constantine - 08-02-2012
One Night of the Hunter...
A step to the side, another, music playing in their ears, dim light and faint warmth coming from a fire alight inside a rusty metal barrel. Under their feet lots of broken screens, some of them flashing bright, they are tangling around their boots. But the couple keep on dancing, the beautiful woman looking into the eyes of the beastly man, dreamily smiling at him. The beastly man is keeping the woman tightly in his arms, as if afraid that something might steal her from him. Shining bright with happiness, yet a touch of disblief can be read as he struggles to believe that it's all real. The woman keeps getting closer to him until their lips touch, she forces that afraid eyes of the beast to close with her warming attention. Losing themselves in the moment of passion, they totally screw the world around them... Freed from the illusions of the past, they do not mind whatever they might be betraying.
The beast can feel the salty tears on his lips, sliding from the cheeks of his lover. A question appears on his face, why would she be crying now? He starts to pick up the tears she's shedding, tasting them, not wanting them to fall down on the floor and disappear. He would keep them in crystal bottles to treasure them if he could, fully believing that if they reached the ground, the ground would shatter and split open, the heavens would roll down on them and swallow all existence there is.
The scene changes, the woman in the beast's arms opens her mouth, and places the point of a simple looking side arm between her teeth. The tears were rushing down so fast, they were falling down on the floor like the rain drops he was seeking for so long. In that shocked state, he realized that he could no longer tend to her cheeks. The trigger arched back, a click was heard. Music started to rush the notes, a tearing sound to the ears, pitching up like a shrill yell. Two hearts stopped beating at the same time. The warmth and light of his life was gone... so ugly, desecrated...
How could this be real?
Shaking, the ground started to open up under him, the blood of his woman all around his face, over his scarry arms and his giant body...
Falling and falling... Into the darkness... Into the night of the hunter. The devils were sounding the horns of hell with a salute... Onto the river of death, black waters freezing cold, penetrating the body and strangling the soul, creeping on his back inside the twenty old wounds. The blood of his lover washed off, still the taste of her tears was on the tip of his tongue.
A whisper, "Welcome back, brother," said like the wind that would sneak around the branches of a dead tree. Arching his neck up, looking up emptily, his wounded self still deep inside the strangling waters... There was no sun, there was no moon, the only light were the purple flash of two familiar eyes that smiled at him wickedly and victoriously.
The beast can feel the salty tears on his lips, sliding from the cheeks of his lover. A question appears on his face, why would she be crying now? He starts to pick up the tears she's shedding, tasting them, not wanting them to fall down on the floor and disappear. He would keep them in crystal bottles to treasure them if he could, fully believing that if they reached the ground, the ground would shatter and split open, the heavens would roll down on them and swallow all existence there is.
The scene changes, the woman in the beast's arms opens her mouth, and places the point of a simple looking side arm between her teeth. The tears were rushing down so fast, they were falling down on the floor like the rain drops he was seeking for so long. In that shocked state, he realized that he could no longer tend to her cheeks. The trigger arched back, a click was heard. Music started to rush the notes, a tearing sound to the ears, pitching up like a shrill yell. Two hearts stopped beating at the same time. The warmth and light of his life was gone... so ugly, desecrated...
How could this be real?
Shaking, the ground started to open up under him, the blood of his woman all around his face, over his scarry arms and his giant body...
Falling and falling... Into the darkness... Into the night of the hunter. The devils were sounding the horns of hell with a salute... Onto the river of death, black waters freezing cold, penetrating the body and strangling the soul, creeping on his back inside the twenty old wounds. The blood of his lover washed off, still the taste of her tears was on the tip of his tongue.
A whisper, "Welcome back, brother," said like the wind that would sneak around the branches of a dead tree. Arching his neck up, looking up emptily, his wounded self still deep inside the strangling waters... There was no sun, there was no moon, the only light were the purple flash of two familiar eyes that smiled at him wickedly and victoriously.
Night of the Hunter - Constantine - 08-02-2012
The Guardian, the price...
Three headed dog... a wild bark, a hasty growl and a lunge at the target, catching the hand of the beastley man. Dagger teeth closing around the flesh and piercing through the bone, a reply of a hurt yell swallowed by the howls and growls of the guardian, crunching the price of the passage between its teeth with great hunger and ambition. Strong fingers were still moving inside one of the dog's mouth, between its jaws held tight. Beastley man with a hurtful gaze watched the heads of the dog fighting among themselves, making thunderous voices, biting each other for the bloody meat they just bit off.
The cloaked figure, his brother, woke him up from his pain and shock, with those eyes still there, shining purple beneath the darkness of the cloudless sky, the reminder of his failure. Took him by the wounded arm, set him straight on his feet, and they walked past the great beast casually. The heads did not mind them, as they were after a piece of the price, the middle one was swallowing a part of a hand.
"I have waited for you all this time, brother..." the whisper behind a black cloak and purple shine said, "as you sent me here without my own price to pass...", the beastley man couldn't see the lips around the whisper, but he could imagine the grin, "as you came here and went back time and time... but we both know, there is no way out of this..."
They passed from the giant archway that was guarded, evading the rusty, stretched chain of a thousand rings binding the dog to the door, moving to and fro with the struggle the dog is giving against itself.
The cloaked figure, his brother, woke him up from his pain and shock, with those eyes still there, shining purple beneath the darkness of the cloudless sky, the reminder of his failure. Took him by the wounded arm, set him straight on his feet, and they walked past the great beast casually. The heads did not mind them, as they were after a piece of the price, the middle one was swallowing a part of a hand.
"I have waited for you all this time, brother..." the whisper behind a black cloak and purple shine said, "as you sent me here without my own price to pass...", the beastley man couldn't see the lips around the whisper, but he could imagine the grin, "as you came here and went back time and time... but we both know, there is no way out of this..."
They passed from the giant archway that was guarded, evading the rusty, stretched chain of a thousand rings binding the dog to the door, moving to and fro with the struggle the dog is giving against itself.
Night of the Hunter - Constantine - 08-05-2012
Portal...
The scene was illuminated by the light coming from the door behind its guardian. Shadows of two figures were cast upon the sand, two pairs of footprints and dark drops of blood trailed off a long way until they were swallowed by the darkness. Both figures were lacking one of their hands, giant one still bleeding with his recent loss, struggling to keep himself under control, hiding his pain within his heavy breathing. Cloaked figure was in a hurry, with his dark face and the mischievous shine of his eyes, hurriedly moving towards the white light of a giant archway. The door gave off a heat as intensely as it shone, hurting to the eyes that were so used to the darkness of their world, engulfing their shivering bodies with warmth. Cloaked figure started to laugh aloud when they closed in to the narrow stairs climbing to the platform where the pillars of the archway stood, his giggle cracking with a unique satisfaction.
The beastley man knew that his companion was waiting for this moment for a very long time. He watched him limp on the stairs, took only three heavily excited steps to arch. Another step forward to the light, with his laughing and giggling getting even more louder. One final step and he was lost in the light, even his footprints were gone from the ground where his feet dragged.
The door was losing its shine quickly as the one left behind hurried after his lost companion. It was nowhere near as bright and warm as he took a last step towards it. After a brief pause he took a deep breath, grasped his bleeding elbow tighter, and expected himself to be taken away from this horrendous night... Nothing happened. His feet touched lightly on the floor of the hard stone platform, the light that would mean his salvation was gone before his sight, leaving him in total darkness. He could neither see the door, nor hear the guardian beast, it was as if he was all alone with this dead, cold night. His feet no longer wanted to carry him, tired legs failed him and he fell on the sand. Its touch on his naked back was so cold, reminding him what his numb feet felt. Laying there beaten, the beastley man started to wait for the day he knew would never dawn.
The beastley man knew that his companion was waiting for this moment for a very long time. He watched him limp on the stairs, took only three heavily excited steps to arch. Another step forward to the light, with his laughing and giggling getting even more louder. One final step and he was lost in the light, even his footprints were gone from the ground where his feet dragged.
The door was losing its shine quickly as the one left behind hurried after his lost companion. It was nowhere near as bright and warm as he took a last step towards it. After a brief pause he took a deep breath, grasped his bleeding elbow tighter, and expected himself to be taken away from this horrendous night... Nothing happened. His feet touched lightly on the floor of the hard stone platform, the light that would mean his salvation was gone before his sight, leaving him in total darkness. He could neither see the door, nor hear the guardian beast, it was as if he was all alone with this dead, cold night. His feet no longer wanted to carry him, tired legs failed him and he fell on the sand. Its touch on his naked back was so cold, reminding him what his numb feet felt. Laying there beaten, the beastley man started to wait for the day he knew would never dawn.