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The After-End -#6
The intricate patterns of ice hovered weightlessly dancing in the air like a dry feather. Each white flake glittered in the red moonlight, it drifted down to his left cheek. He stood up and observed his surroundings. He noticed a thin blanket of snow on the trees and ground as clumps of wet flakes continued to drift down endlessly. The icicles on a tree dropped with a loud smash, like glass cracking and shattering raising his adrenaline level with the false alarm. He admitted that he was scared, jumpy probably because he just had a dream but when he started to feel too much cold around him he glanced down at his clothes. He realized otherwise when he noticed the cut patterns on his cloth at the front and the faint red scratches on his chest affirmed his fears. It wasn't a dream.
I'm safe. He thought and he puffed out in relief. He felt faint a
ayGaiusIt's very strange what life throws at people. At one time, there is laughter then sorrow follows -in that format the good follows the bad like a cycle. And that's life. Just imagine, what hell will be like. Life on its own with sorrow, pain, anguish all around. I wonder how he will do in this chapter...I hope he finds his only family soon enough.
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He took the liberty to burry the bushman's body, placing the spear he had used to kill the brute as a marking. He continued on his journey. Finally, he found himself getting closer to the Grand Master's abode. He came across a camp filled with tents surrounded by a long pointed bulwark. Many Soldiers in the GrandMaster uniform matched around the camp-keeping guards. As he moved closer, he noticed the two hefty Archers that had been pursuing him and also killed his sister. He tailed them as they entered a tent. After a long while, they came out again. They look different but he couldn't understand why. He continued to monitor the camp activities in hope of seeing his daughter. As he started to doze off, a loud cry from the camp sent away his slumber. He noticed a man struggle with some soldiers. He was cruelly beaten, his face bashed as he continued to accommodate their beatings. More soldiers watch on captivated by the man's resilience to withstand th
Sisyphyra The After - End -#8
The site before him came like a de ja vu. An occurrence of his very existence, he could not put a name to it. But, seeing all the tents in the camp destroyed, people fighting he knew that a war had begun already. People in black garb carried stone axes, some that are rougly dressed had farming tools as weapon. He wondered what stance they had against the grandmaster soldiers.Aren't you in the same boat as them? The voice said.Clouds of feathered arrows shoot through the air bringing many to their death. Javelins whistled past and pinned a soldier to a chariot through his head, his brain split into a clean cut two. A lifeless man in a black religious habit was dragged on the ground by a black horse through the field. His garb getting torn along the way with a missing limb already decapacited ready to fall off. Some bodies lay hooked on the pointed wooden bulwark their blood spilled out, running in lines into a blood puddle on the ground. The cries of men and screams of in
Sisyphyra The After-End #9
"I'm not a fighter, I'm a man of god" he replied also in anger. The figure laughed. "Does a man of god steal? Does he kill?" "I have never stolen from you, as for the killing. I had no choice-" A great force held him off on his throat cutting off his remaining speech, he struggled for his breathe. "No one steals from me and gets away with it. What is mine, is mine, on one can take it away from me" "Who are you?" He croaked The force is released and he drops to the ground. "It's good how your memory kept depreciating. Soon you won't remember all this. By the way, I am the Grandmaster"
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"Many people wondered why scary things happen when it's dark, especially when there is an unexplainable blackout. Why do thieves' devices plan and think that it's best carried out at night? Why do most people die at night? I have spent the night in a hospital when most of the patients died before daybreak. I have also gone to numerous fetish festivals that perform sacrifices. Why perform this sacrifice at night? One thing is for certain. The dark is one symbolic entity where bad, strange, and dangerous things happen. Though some love the night because they could see the moon in its full glory-" Gbam! Sholay fidgeted as the chief editor slammed the manuscript on the table. He is known for this physical demonstration of vexation particularly when things don't go his way. He doesn't care about the process or the research one has gone through but the finished product.
Sisyphyra The Old Church - #2
Tramping slowly as if intoxicated through a maze of wall dry creeping growth hang on the wall. She walked barefooted to hide away the sounds her footstep may give. Her heavy sign echoed through the wall. Walking aimlessly with no sense of direction, a faint cry alerted her of impending danger. A little girl appeared in the shadows. She stretched forth her tiny hands. She saw that they were stained with blood."Where are your parents?" She asked moving cautiously towards her."Helpme," she said moving backward into the shadow creating a means to make her a bit as she follows. Hearing the heavy stump of feet behind her was not enough to divert her attention."Sholay, I'm here don't go" Laura dressed in a bright blue pantsuit shouted to get her attention but it was of no help.Finally, Sholay got close to the little girl. She could feel her heart beating in fright by the second. Her eyes scanned her surroundings trying to pay attention to where she was.
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Sisyphyra The Old Church - #4
She parked the car. The gentle rippling click of the key turning away from the ignition was crisp into the silence. For a brief moment, she waited feeling at the stillness. Clustered on the summit of the towering mound, the fractured rooftop of the old church hovered on the hill. Poised in the cloud-like a rubbled dust-drenched lighthouse beacon. She stood watching, puzzled by a heart-stopping sense of loss vaguely troubled. She saw the house adjacent to the old church, the one Mr. Joe had told her was his. Grabbing her luggage, she paused outside for a moment to take in the cool breeze. From somewhere in the old church, a bell began to toll on. She glanced towards the sound. The bell had a tower above it. It made the church look like an ancient house with a chimney. Remembering she had come with a camera, she took out from her car and began to snap pictures. The melancholy resonance echoed through the hills. Seeping through her tired body.The overcast of rolling clouds
Sisyphyra The Old Church - #5
The blaze of the sun wrung pops of sweat from Sholay's forehead, yet she drew the comforter over her body. The fragrance smell of coffee filled the room. Laura emerged with, a sartorial vision of elegant grooming in a black striped designer blouse. The sleeves of which she had pushed up her arms and well-cut black trousers. The jacket of a business suit lay on her arm. Carrying a teacup filled with coffee, she laid her jacket on the back of a chair close to her dressing table. "Sholay, wake up!" Laurel moved over and flip the comforter away from her body. She grumbled as she became awake. Yawning to her content "When did you get back?" "I called but didn't pick I sent you a voice message." "Oh, that must be the network", she retrieved her phone from her bedside table. Checking through her phone histor
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