Wicked Savior - A Work of Fiction
Delirious and weary, I came across a large, steel door. It was locked, but showed signs of recent use. Its barred window revealed nothing in the pitch black room behind it.
I had a dark foreboding feeling about what may lay inside, but that didn't stop me. I reached into my pocket and grabbed the large, iron key I found earlier, and tried it in the lock. Lo and behold, it worked. The door creaked open ominously, swinging easily, despite its large size and apparent weight.
Stepping through the open doorway, I finally noticed the true size of the room; easily 100 square yards, and twice as high. After a few steps, sconces lining the walls burst to life in sequence, ending with two large braziers flanking a very ornate (and quite demonic-looking) throne.
That is where I first looked upon the figure. Draping himself lazily over the throne in a sideways fashion was a darkly clad figure. His long, black hair hung unkempt over his ebony eyes. His left arm hung over the front of the seat, while his right held a book in front of his face. His cloak hung over the right arm of the chair, beneath his boot clad legs. What struck me, however, were the batlike wings protruding from his back, folded in a seemingly uncomfortable way.
Noticing that I had entered the room, he glanced up at me. "So, you've finally come to set me free?" he questioned, returning his gaze to the book. "I knew it'd be soon."
I merely stood there, awestruck. "Who are you?" I finally asked.
He laughed derisively. "Oh, John. You already know the answer to that." Closing the book audibly, he stood up and donned the cloak. Spreading his wings and arms, he boomed, "I am the dark deeds for which you refuse responsibility, and the deeds you will yet commit. I am the innocence you've allowed to become corrupted. I am the deaths you chose not to prevent. I am your dark thoughts. I am the evil you've allowed to live, breathe, and thrive. I have always existed in you, yet you've always attempted to lock me away, masquerading as a champion of all things good and innocent. But we both know that isn't the case. My existence alone is proof positive against that." He was now towering over me. I gazed up at him in a mix of awe and fear, having fallen to my knees. "I am your dark side. The inky blackness of your soul. I am Blitz."
He knelt down so that he was staring directly into my eyes. "Most importantly," he whispered, "I'm exactly what you need." He burst upward, his voice now booming. "Embrace me! I shall see you through this dark time, as I have in the past. But know this; this time, I'm not letting go. You can accept my help, and survive, but you will never be the same." Landing back on the ground, he folded his arms. "Or, you can walk out that door, turn the key once again, and attempt to find your own way through the blackness. At least with me, I can guarantee you'll make it."
I stood back up, regaining my composure. "What darkness do you speak of, Blitz?"
"Don't you remember? You attempted to take her darkness away. Now it infects the both of you like a plague. You knew that would be a danger when you attempted it, but here we are. You've lost her, you've lost your sanity, you're losing your family and friends with your silence. Soon, all you have left is darkness. There is your choice; that can either be me, or it can be the Misery you attempted to remove from her. At least with me, you will know what to expect." He sauntered over to me and extended his gloved hand. It was wreathed in a black, smoky aura, whose wispy tendrils reached out for my hand.
"Guide me, then," I responded, reaching for his hand. "Help me survive." I closed my hand around his, and everything went black.
Delirious and weary, I came across a large, steel door. It was locked, but showed signs of recent use. Its barred window revealed nothing in the pitch black room behind it.
I had a dark foreboding feeling about what may lay inside, but that didn't stop me. I reached into my pocket and grabbed the large, iron key I found earlier, and tried it in the lock. Lo and behold, it worked. The door creaked open ominously, swinging easily, despite its large size and apparent weight.
Stepping through the open doorway, I finally noticed the true size of the room; easily 100 square yards, and twice as high. After a few steps, sconces lining the walls burst to life in sequence, ending with two large braziers flanking a very ornate (and quite demonic-looking) throne.
That is where I first looked upon the figure. Draping himself lazily over the throne in a sideways fashion was a darkly clad figure. His long, black hair hung unkempt over his ebony eyes. His left arm hung over the front of the seat, while his right held a book in front of his face. His cloak hung over the right arm of the chair, beneath his boot clad legs. What struck me, however, were the batlike wings protruding from his back, folded in a seemingly uncomfortable way.
Noticing that I had entered the room, he glanced up at me. "So, you've finally come to set me free?" he questioned, returning his gaze to the book. "I knew it'd be soon."
I merely stood there, awestruck. "Who are you?" I finally asked.
He laughed derisively. "Oh, John. You already know the answer to that." Closing the book audibly, he stood up and donned the cloak. Spreading his wings and arms, he boomed, "I am the dark deeds for which you refuse responsibility, and the deeds you will yet commit. I am the innocence you've allowed to become corrupted. I am the deaths you chose not to prevent. I am your dark thoughts. I am the evil you've allowed to live, breathe, and thrive. I have always existed in you, yet you've always attempted to lock me away, masquerading as a champion of all things good and innocent. But we both know that isn't the case. My existence alone is proof positive against that." He was now towering over me. I gazed up at him in a mix of awe and fear, having fallen to my knees. "I am your dark side. The inky blackness of your soul. I am Blitz."
He knelt down so that he was staring directly into my eyes. "Most importantly," he whispered, "I'm exactly what you need." He burst upward, his voice now booming. "Embrace me! I shall see you through this dark time, as I have in the past. But know this; this time, I'm not letting go. You can accept my help, and survive, but you will never be the same." Landing back on the ground, he folded his arms. "Or, you can walk out that door, turn the key once again, and attempt to find your own way through the blackness. At least with me, I can guarantee you'll make it."
I stood back up, regaining my composure. "What darkness do you speak of, Blitz?"
"Don't you remember? You attempted to take her darkness away. Now it infects the both of you like a plague. You knew that would be a danger when you attempted it, but here we are. You've lost her, you've lost your sanity, you're losing your family and friends with your silence. Soon, all you have left is darkness. There is your choice; that can either be me, or it can be the Misery you attempted to remove from her. At least with me, you will know what to expect." He sauntered over to me and extended his gloved hand. It was wreathed in a black, smoky aura, whose wispy tendrils reached out for my hand.
"Guide me, then," I responded, reaching for his hand. "Help me survive." I closed my hand around his, and everything went black.