- Joined
- Nov 24, 2007
- Messages
- 4,382
Why hello there.. Again.
I am once again writing, but this time something else than Dawn of Life. Inspired by the novel "Lies of Locke Lamora" and some other personal perspectives, I am writing a new novel, wether it be finished or not is not sure at this moment. Anyways, lets get down to it, shall we? This is only the prologue, and its not very long, but I hope it gives a somewhat insight at what I am writing here and what the novel is like:
Prologue
02:13 Tuesday, the twenty fifth of October in the year of 2251.
It was raining outside. There was a soft tapping of raindrops against the large windows of the church. The light was dimmed at the entrance and all the way up to the altar. Where there was candles burning and giving off soft and living light, casting dancing shadows on the walls. There was a priest standing by the altar, cleaning a blood soaked knife with a white tissue, standing with his face against the back wall of the church. On the altar, lying with her face towards the entrance of the church, was a girl. Dead as the very altar she was lying on with a fresh cut at her throat, still bleeding.
The priest turned as the heavy doors of the church entrance cracked open, and a heavy light came seething through it. A man came walking in, at a slow pace he was moving towards the priest. The man entering the church had a black chupella on his head, and was wearing a long, dark leather coat. He had dark and curly hair, seemingly unattended. He had very thin leather gloves and high leather boots. The man was walking with his coat open and underneath it was a neatly set dark blue shirt with sparkles of silver in it. He was equipped with a long saber sheathed, its handle was neatly set with symbols and fine lines of silver, and at pomel there was the form of a horse head.
When there was nothing but a gap of two meters between them the priest whispered in a hissing voice “Elthario. Why have you returned to me on this particular hour..?” The man of which seemed to be named Elthario looked at the priest with eyes filled of hatred. Ten seconds passed, ten seconds where the time seemed to leak away, slowly, as if it had never been there. “Because.. Father. I have been blind. I have killed those who fight in the name of freedom for generations.. And for what? For the pleasure and well being of some clever minds that worked their little scheme throughout world war three. I am slaying innocents on the streets, so that you can be safe in your church fucking children that is overwhelmingly younger than yourself.”
Elthario walked up, passed the priest of which retreated from his former position. And when Elthario was standing by the girl on the alter the priest had positioned himself at the steps of the passageway, three meters away from Elthario, with his hands firmly held on his one knife. Elthario looked down on the girl on the alter, she couldn’t be older than 14 but neither younger than 12. He fondled his fingers along the girls arm, eyes filled with horrific pain. He looked up and straight at the priest, of which stood there, speechless. “No.” said Elthario “I am done serving you Catholic ilk, I am done being your angel of death…”
He reached into one side of his coat and pulled out a M-47 Magnum, fit with a silencer and specially designed with 24 bullets instead of the standard 12. The priest had no time to react as Elthario fired of. Three bullets flew through the air and hit the priest into the head. The knife in his hands dropped down to the floor, making a large clinging noise as it hit the ground, closely followed by the entire body of the priest himself. “I hereby relieve you of your life, Percentrio Arthelli. May you burn in hell.” He walked down the stairs and fired off a final shot right between the eyes of the priest. Not likely to ensure the kill, but to express his hatred towards the manipulative mind of which was inside this human body.
He turned slowly, walked back up the stairs and passed the girl on the altar. There he reached inside his shirt and pulled out a necklace, placed the figure on in necklace into a form in the wall, turned it once to the left and took his fingers under a handle that placed just underneath the form, he pulled upwards and a clocking mechanism could be heard working. The wall split open and behind it was a stairway, leading downwards into a black cellar looking catacomb. Elthario pulled out a note from his pocked and let it drop to the ground, then he entered the doors and closed them shut behind him.
Elthario Pablo Rafozio, legend of the great Aces.
The priest turned as the heavy doors of the church entrance cracked open, and a heavy light came seething through it. A man came walking in, at a slow pace he was moving towards the priest. The man entering the church had a black chupella on his head, and was wearing a long, dark leather coat. He had dark and curly hair, seemingly unattended. He had very thin leather gloves and high leather boots. The man was walking with his coat open and underneath it was a neatly set dark blue shirt with sparkles of silver in it. He was equipped with a long saber sheathed, its handle was neatly set with symbols and fine lines of silver, and at pomel there was the form of a horse head.
When there was nothing but a gap of two meters between them the priest whispered in a hissing voice “Elthario. Why have you returned to me on this particular hour..?” The man of which seemed to be named Elthario looked at the priest with eyes filled of hatred. Ten seconds passed, ten seconds where the time seemed to leak away, slowly, as if it had never been there. “Because.. Father. I have been blind. I have killed those who fight in the name of freedom for generations.. And for what? For the pleasure and well being of some clever minds that worked their little scheme throughout world war three. I am slaying innocents on the streets, so that you can be safe in your church fucking children that is overwhelmingly younger than yourself.”
Elthario walked up, passed the priest of which retreated from his former position. And when Elthario was standing by the girl on the alter the priest had positioned himself at the steps of the passageway, three meters away from Elthario, with his hands firmly held on his one knife. Elthario looked down on the girl on the alter, she couldn’t be older than 14 but neither younger than 12. He fondled his fingers along the girls arm, eyes filled with horrific pain. He looked up and straight at the priest, of which stood there, speechless. “No.” said Elthario “I am done serving you Catholic ilk, I am done being your angel of death…”
He reached into one side of his coat and pulled out a M-47 Magnum, fit with a silencer and specially designed with 24 bullets instead of the standard 12. The priest had no time to react as Elthario fired of. Three bullets flew through the air and hit the priest into the head. The knife in his hands dropped down to the floor, making a large clinging noise as it hit the ground, closely followed by the entire body of the priest himself. “I hereby relieve you of your life, Percentrio Arthelli. May you burn in hell.” He walked down the stairs and fired off a final shot right between the eyes of the priest. Not likely to ensure the kill, but to express his hatred towards the manipulative mind of which was inside this human body.
He turned slowly, walked back up the stairs and passed the girl on the altar. There he reached inside his shirt and pulled out a necklace, placed the figure on in necklace into a form in the wall, turned it once to the left and took his fingers under a handle that placed just underneath the form, he pulled upwards and a clocking mechanism could be heard working. The wall split open and behind it was a stairway, leading downwards into a black cellar looking catacomb. Elthario pulled out a note from his pocked and let it drop to the ground, then he entered the doors and closed them shut behind him.
Elthario Pablo Rafozio, legend of the great Aces.
Now, do not take anything of what I am writing serious, it is all fiction. And yes, it includes Religion and religion might be presented in a bad view, especially Christians. But it is all fiction, have no doupt.
C'n'C is always welcome.
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