# King according to the pact.



## Ambush Beast (Oct 31, 2010)

King according to the pact. 


‘If I could, I would take back everything. If I could I would change my history and erase the transgressions of my early days; when I was young and unclear about my role in the universe. I would change everything… if I could.’ Attributed to an old dying man lost in the reality of his own nightmares.

Her birth was to be the catalyst, the pendulum if you will. She was to be the answer to a dying kingdom, to a fading dream, a lessening of hope. But she was not. Instead, at the age of three years old she had died.

Shadows moved in and out of reality and weeping could be heard upon the winds. Death laughed and a kingdom mourned as her soul left a body not meant to pass from here to there at such an early age. 

‘If I could erase the past I would.’ the old man whispered in the night. 

Cold winds blew and icy rain fell from deep gray clouds that dipped and swirled upon the currents of impassioned air. It had been twenty-five years since her death, but still he felt it deeply, to his very core. It was as if it had happened this morning, this very day. 

His tears fell freely because the memories did not fade. It had been his knife that had sealed the pact. It was his knife that damned a world to the torments of Chaos. It had been his accursed blade that had taken her life and for that he would never, could never be forgiven. 

Warp-creatures and winged things had been released because of his lack of foresight; because of his own selfishness. In his lack of knowledge he had thought he understood. He was promised a place in the new world, a place above all others, a place of power and exaltation. 

The pact had been honored but he suffered still and now upon the icy winds he could hear her accusing cries. He could still feel the blood running over his fingers and could still taste it upon his lips. 

His lips, bloodied with the girl’s life, drenched with her innocence had uttered words that brought the dead to life and opened the floodgates to the other world. He could still see the accusation in her eyes, her pure blue eyes. He could see the simple trust she had had in him fade away and be replaced by darkness, be replaced by death. 

Her glassy stare somehow branded itself upon his mind and in that moment the reality, the horror of what he had done brought him to the end of himself. Falling to his knees, blood upon his lips, darkness upon his soul, he begged for it all to be taken back. He begged and pleaded for it to go away, for it all to be a dream that he could shake from his tormented mind. 

But it was not a dream and for that he would ever be cursed. Now upon the cobbled stones of an ancient road he walked. He walked in darkness, covered in blackened rags smelling of disease and infestation. 

From all around yellow eyes reflected from hell-spawned lamps that burned with the oils of the fat of the slain. From every corner of the blackened city he could hear them hiss and growl. In the darkness of the deep shadows he could hear them laugh and say, ‘This is the one who let us in. He is the one who rules over us.’

He wept when he heard it, for it was true. He had let them in. He did rule over them, if this is what could be considered ruling. ‘I would do anything to take it back. I would do anything to change the things I have done, but I can’t!’ he wailed to the shadows. They laughed. 

A thousand years have come and gone and still he walks the ancient streets of a forgotten city upon a forgotten world. His flesh is still as young as it once was, still unblemished by the taint around him. The warp-spawn still feeds upon the souls of the inhabitants of the land, refusing to let them die, refusing to give them peace. 

The shadows will never touch him for he is their ruler as agreed upon within the pact. Though he has begged for them to tear his soul apart they would not do it for he is their king. They laugh at him for he cannot die. They see his guilt as clear as the sun upon a summer day, and they torment him with his shame. 

He is so tired, but he cannot sleep. In his mind’s eye he can still remember how she laughed when he held her in his arms. He could still remember the smell of her breath and the scent of her hair as he held her close. He wept because of the memories. He wept because of what he had done, but he could never take it back. He could never breathe life back into her lungs or restart her unbeating heart. 

Ten thousand years from now he will still hear the shadows laughing, the dying screaming and the sound of his little girl’s soul asking him, ‘Why, daddy?’ 

Over the bed of an unknown old man who had no identification, no living relatives and no one to claim him, the nurses watched as he wept in his coma. He was dreaming but could not wake up. He was speaking but the words, for the most part were unclear. He was mourning, reliving some sad memory perhaps. 

The nurse shook her head as she watched him. With tears in her eyes she turned out the lights and walked from the medical room.


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## gothik (May 29, 2010)

wow adrian just wow


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## Ambush Beast (Oct 31, 2010)

*Thank you.*



gothik said:


> wow adrian just wow



Thank you. Bow to the right. Thank you. Bow to the left. And thank you. Bow center forward, and hold. 

Don't applaud, just throw money. :wacko:


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## ThatOtherGuy (Apr 13, 2010)

This is good Adrian, but yet I felt it dragged a little too much in getting to the climax of the story and way too much description of setting at times. The latter felt like it hampered the story a bit.


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## Ambush Beast (Oct 31, 2010)

*Okay*



ThatOtherGuy said:


> This is good Adrian, but yet I felt it dragged a little too much in getting to the climax of the story and way too much description of setting at times. The latter felt like it hampered the story a bit.



Thanks. I may or may not agree. The story was short and did have a lot of description. I do agree about that. As far as dragging on a bit... it could definitely be true. To some readers it could, but to me it did not. 

The emotion I was going for as well as the hook at the end seemed, to me, really great. But I wrote it so I'm a little compromised in my opinion. lol 

Again, thanks for reading and taking the time to comment. It always feels good to know you are there keeping vigil over O.W. and the minions scurrying about in the darkness within. Smile, smile.


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## ThatOtherGuy (Apr 13, 2010)

Adrian said:


> It always feels good to know you are there keeping vigil over O.W. and the minions scurrying about in the darkness within. Smile, smile.


Do not fear minion, my omnipresent eye is always scanning this section... When it feels like it.


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## Ambush Beast (Oct 31, 2010)

*lol*



ThatOtherGuy said:


> Do not fear minion, my omnipresent eye is always scanning this section... When it feels like it.


lol.


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## gothik (May 29, 2010)

ThatOtherGuy said:


> Do not fear minion, my omnipresent eye is always scanning this section... When it feels like it.


thats actually quite creepy TAG really creepy :shok:


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## Pusser (May 26, 2011)

Chills down my spine...


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## Ambush Beast (Oct 31, 2010)

*I was rummaging*

through my old stuff and found this. Hope you like it. From the archives.


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## maelstrom48 (Sep 5, 2012)

First original work I've read on here, and I have to say, I'm encouraged! You have a talent for description. I actually liked how you alternated between the old man's emotion and the events that caused it. The ending leaves me a little uncertain--did the events of the story actually take place? If so, how did he end up in the hospital? But I feel maybe it makes more sense that he murdered his daughter and, in his ensuing coma, dreamed up the purgatory he's trapped in. Not sure; some clarity would be nice. All the same, I again admire your description of his emotional state throughout.


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## Dave T Hobbit (Dec 3, 2009)

I think the ending works better without confirmation of whether he is mad or not.


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## Ambush Beast (Oct 31, 2010)

*Hello*



maelstrom48 said:


> First original work I've read on here, and I have to say, I'm encouraged! You have a talent for description. I actually liked how you alternated between the old man's emotion and the events that caused it. The ending leaves me a little uncertain--did the events of the story actually take place? If so, how did he end up in the hospital? But I feel maybe it makes more sense that he murdered his daughter and, in his ensuing coma, dreamed up the purgatory he's trapped in. Not sure; some clarity would be nice. All the same, I again admire your description of his emotional state throughout.


Thanks for reading and commenting. The story's end was meant to keep the reader guessing somewhat. But here's the skinny on the matter. Though the man was in a coma his mind was not. He had indeed received the culmination of the pact in his mind, but not in body. Spirit and flesh as it were. His spirit is stuck for all eternity while his flesh wastes away and will soon be forgotten. Be careful what you wish for.


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## VixusKragov (Feb 21, 2012)

Very good. It seems like a cliche to say this but the story is hauntingly beautiful. I know I'm just throwing more praise on to the pile at this point, but you've got some serious talent.


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## Ambush Beast (Oct 31, 2010)

*Hi*



VixusKragov said:


> Very good. It seems like a cliche to say this but the story is hauntingly beautiful. I know I'm just throwing more praise on to the pile at this point, but you've got some serious talent.


Thanks a lot. Your praise is very well received and needed since I have an immense inferiority complex.


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