Fan Fiction ❯ The Lotus Deception ❯ "Thou Sleepest, Awake" ( Chapter 2 )

Sweat falling from the tip of his brow to his cheeks, Alexander slowly leans backwards, sliding down against the cold, slimy wall. The touch of the oily substance sends chills down his spine, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight as that feeling of death recalls that fateful moment in that boy's life. The Cephalin's screen fades into a neon green, statistics flaring up at random speeds and in random patterns, forming a completely accurate personification of the frightened male. His height, weight, physique, all of it is calculated into the system, and a small blue icon appears soon after. `Please outfit yourself, No. 667.' The computer commands, the keyboard once again revealing itself, though now with a means of navigating the list that had recently appeared. Slowly rising to his feet, and gathering the courage to approach the inventory, he begins to examine the contents of the list, finding a scopeful variety of weapons, armors, items, and the like.

 

“What do I do?” He inquires to the computer, but it remains silent to his request for information, and he begins to randomly click and point, until the small screen lights up. Moving the cursor over to the `Weapons' tab, he clicks it cautiously, seeing a long detailed list of possible weapons to be used. “You've gotta be kidding me! Medieval, Mundane, Technological…it's all here.” He mutters to himself, glancing about it. `You have two minutes left before you are executed on trial of intent to escape.' The computer complains in that robotic voice. Realizing that he must hurry, Alex begins to click randomly. “Eh!? All right, all right! Uh, Weapon? Let's see, I've never really had anything, so I'll go with…uh, wait. That guy was called `The Decapitator', right? So, that probably means he has some huge ass weapon. Shit, shit, shit. Ok, I'll try to be defensive, so I'll go with Bo Staff.” He decides, clicking it. Instantaneously, a six-foot metal staff appears before him, and he takes it in hand, marveling at the occurrence. `Process Complete.' The Cephalin states the horrible notice slowly. “Shit, what about Armor?” He asks, but once again, answered by nothing. “Wait, HELP!” He yells out to the others, whom disregard his pleas, as he slowly materializes upon the battlefield. Glancing around, that particular moment of utter fear and consuming darkness envelops Alexander, and he slowly spins on his heels to examine the region in which he stood. Quivering beneath the glares of the audience, he grips his weapon tight to his chest, and jumps at a loud clanking sound. Turning his head, his jaw slowly drops as Gilant enters the Arena, an axe the size of himself, about ten feet tall, enters the Arena as well. Gilant looks upon the small human with his deep, pitch black eyes that resemble infinite voids in themselves, his visage lacking a mouth, nose, ears, hair, and the like, but several tubes connect the back of his head to his upper back instead. Standing at such an abnormal height, and with such an extreme muscularity, it is instantly recalled by the sniveling Alexander as an `Omega', the most physically adept alien race known to date. Omegas, being genderless, lack sexual reproduction organs, and instead, give birth through an asexual process of budding. Nonetheless, the giant rears back its prominent forehead, and emits a deep roar, before hefting the weapon to its shoulders. Approaching Alexander, a fit of fear and sense of dire fright overwhelm his system, and he does little more than tremble his lips and dart his eyes around. He was eighteen, where was he expected to have ever been in such combat? Lifting his thin weapon to hand, he begins to circle the creature that noticeably appears to be playing with him, only taking random swipes and misplaced swings as if to terrify the human opponent, rather than actually rend him. Alex leaps backwards dramatically, screaming at the proposal that Death had lined up for him.

 

`At this rate, I'm going to be torn to pieces! I need a plan here…wait; this thing is twice my size! How can I beat it? I can't very well overwhelm it; it's huge and so strong! SHIT, I'm screwed to hell now…dammit, I want to live!' He thinks to himself, once again leaping from the vector of the axe, running farther from the beast. The indigo sky becomes wrathful, spewing crimson droplets of rain to send upon the raging battle below, if one could call it thus. The sandy soil, that khaki ocean of broken down rocks in which has been previously dyed crimson, soaks up the tears of the heavens eagerly, allowing for a muddy solution to occur. Alexander bites his tongue lightly as he begins to navigate his way through the slushy field, straining to keep a distance between him and his foe, despite the enraged reactions of the crowd. So many faces, colors, and voices, it was a wonder to the young male as to how he was still sane at the moment. Stifling back tears, he falls to his knees, clutching the soil with his hands. He knew that he couldn't run forever, and had to make some stand, even if it was for the worst. Figuring that even if he continued to live, his life would only increase in hellish torture, he grabs his light weapon, and spins on his heels, the slushy field kicking up in the action. Crimson hair blowing in a newly found wind, his sapphire eyes lock with those vapid ones of his foe. Breathing heavily, he clutches the weapon in his raw hands, blood seeping from them, the friction of the odd metal ripping the flesh from him as he attempted to block so often. Gritting his teeth, he rushes the battle-hardened opponent.

 

“AHHHHHHH!” He screams, eyes closed as he swings his blunt weapon as hard as his arms would allow for. Eyes blinded with fear and anger, he bites his lip to the point in which it bleeds in agony, the vibrations of contact causing the weapon to be jostled from his grip. He falls upon his back, staring up into the raining clouds, looking up to the creature. It stumbles briefly, not even a bruise arising on that alabaster skin. It looks to the weapon, seeing a large dent in it, and shrugs apathetically before bringing his weapon towards Alex. Eyes widening at the attack, Alex manages to roll over his right shoulder during the apex of the swing, causing the bladed doom bringer to miss its mark. Leaping to his feet, he grabs his disfigured weapon, and strikes it to the temple of the Omega, whom does little more than turn to face him, the weapon shattering into near equal shafts from the hard skinned alien. Lips curling into a disgruntled expression, the human dives into the wet soil to avoid a horizontal swipe towards his neck, and squirms between the legs of the brute, to retrieve both halves of his pathetic weapon. Noticing the sharpness of each, he brings both into the hamstring of each leg of that hideous creature, causing it to stumble forwards, emitting a low growl as they penetrate the skin, and dig into the muscle. Leaping away from the monster's enraged swing, Alex looks around for some form of defending himself, though finding none, as the Omega rips the weapons from their resting place, and heaves them into the crowd, which cheers delightfully.

 

“Kill the bitch! Let him Bleed! Make him die soon!” The screeches of the crowd kill any audible notices the Omega makes, and Alex finds himself facing a burning sensation in his left arm. He had been distracted for a moment, and paid the price. Eyes losing focus, he manages to examine his arm below him, as he slides down the stony wall to join it. Lips moving, yet no voice finding the courage to pierce the silence, his pain goes vocally unheard. His mind on fire, his wound stingingly losing sensation, and his person bathing in his very own body fluids, he rolls his eyes back in silent agony, choosing to allow death to take his idle form. Heavy footsteps announce the arrival of his enemy, and he glances upon it, only to find fright kissing at his previously dying mentality. At that moment, all emotion is discarded, and he leaps through an opening the creature leaves while bringing the weapon in a vertical swing, and rolls about in the dirty terrain, falling into a puddle of crimson water, soaking his wound unintentionally .The introduction of the liquid sends chills down his spine, and a fiery feeling within his torso. Pulling himself to his feet, he finds himself still incapable of speech, but still sound of mind.

 

`Da-Damn…My arm? Gone? What the hell is this!? Dammit, I can't die here!? I…I CAN'T, WON'T….NO!' He thinks to himself, falling to his knees pathetically, mind swelling to the point that pressure blinds him. Screaming in complete despair and total anguish, he clutches the wound, and cries profusely, ignoring the laughter of the crowd. Darkness falls about him, and his pain fades. Opening his eyes, he finds himself in a bleak existence, void of visual or audible substance, and he begins to stumble about in said room, unaware of purpose or meaning.

 

“H-Hello?” He calls out, to no avail as the silence remains tranquil and unbroken. Continuing to aimlessly wander, he finds a small window in which through he enters, only to vomit into his open hands. The forms of his mother and sister fell before him, clearly having been raped and tortured, limbs detached and organs discarded next to them, forming a horrific picture within his mind. Turning to a footstep, his father walks past him, smiling psychotically, before resuming his intercourse with his family's remains. A lightheaded nature fills Alex's mind, and watches in a paralyzed state as his father retrieves from behind a closet a trembling male. It was he, and he was going to be raped and killed as well. “F-FATHER, no!” he screams, attempting to touch his father, to remove any said attempt, but the ghostly figure merely passes through the attempt, and grips the boy by the hair, tossing him into the middle of the room. His father lifts him up by the neck, and holds him before the massacre.

 

“Look upon them, Alex. This was your mother and sister, and is what you shall be momentarily.” He says cruelly, mouth contorting into a terrible smile of malevolence. Throwing the boy down, he proceeds to rape him, the act invisible to Alex, who turns to face a decaying wall that explodes before him. Lifting his hands in defense, shrapnel and stones fly through him, and into his father, whom is launched from his younger body. The memory begins to fade as some form of enforcement enters, firing several bullets through the skull of the psychotic father, and bringing the boy into their arms. The window disappears, and a white-robed woman appears, alabaster skinned and crimson-eyed. Removing her cloak's hood to reveal her long blonde hair, she reaches a hand out to Alexander, and takes it in hers.

 

“Alexander, do you know what you are?” She inquires, lips inching ever closer to his ears. Kissing it, she turns away, looking back at him with an odd smile. She reaches up below her eye, and begins to peel away the skin at her face, revealing a scaly appearance below it. “We are, you see, demons. Banished to hell for eternity, we struggle to survive upon our cursed abilities, seeking penance for our terrible sins. You are indeed unaware of this, are you not?” She moves next to him, her eye bright blue, and pupil in a star-like pattern as she looks upon him. “Your bloodline runs thick with demonic attributes, the very reason you exist in this place. Your eyes guard them.” She forewarns, turning to face another direction. “Alexander, thou sleepest. AWAKE” She commands.

 

Instantly, his eyes flare open, and he leaps from the swing of the Omega once again. “Wait…how long was I out? No way in hell it waited for me; did all that happen so fast!? Demons? My ass!” He speaks into air, forgetting of his dire wound. However, a brutal broad siding of his torso with that axe pins him against the stony wall, forcing his lungs to erupt in a bloody geyser, crimson fluid leaking from the corners of his mouth. A heartbeat begins to become audible within his mind, and a clicking noise occurs. The Omega seems taken aback, and steps away for a moment, raising his weapon in defense. Alexander looks deep within a nearby puddle, seeing his eyes of bright blue nature, pupils in that same odd pattern that woman had. Glancing upon the beast and cocking his head in the process, a mental image of the Omega, its statistics, future strategies, and even its vital signs, becomes visible to him. A slight prick in his front lobe of his brain causes him to throw up an arm to his skull, and an electric sensation runs through his mind. `ï„ï·ï¡ï¨ï ;«ï¥ï¯ï¬ï€§ï¢& #239;¨ïµï¨ï­ï«δï 1;ï¬ï·ï¥ïºï£' the strange but elegant language runs through his mind, and commands him to react to the pain? A moment of confusion overwhelms him, but he somehow manages to obey the voice, and by flinging out his left arm, a series of translucent arms extend from his own, gripping the Omega. His vision becomes tinted with a blue coloring, and an odd electrical sensation runs through his body as he begins to manipulate the extensions from his arm. The crowd gasps at the invisible paralysis in which has overtaken the brute, and with widening eyes of unknown origin, Alexander smiles.

 

“I can…control things? What is this power!? It's almost as if I can create invisible extensions of my imagination to do my bidding…if that is the case… ”