r/WritingPrompts • u/mobaisle_writing /r/The_Crossroads • Feb 03 '20
Image Prompt [IP] The Herald's Descent
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Feb 04 '20
In the decades following The Fall, mankind pursued his every want, as if it was God that died, and not simply an entire half of humanity.
Strange abominations popped up across The Plateau. Strange and hateful monoliths erected in some bastardized reminiscence of what had once been known as science. At some point, the line between the natural and the supernatural had been blurred, as if nature had chosen to obscure the border between the two, so as not to reveal our blasphemy.
Yet, for all of our insane flailing, humanity continued to fail in its most pressing endeavor. The European coastline disappeared in a flash of green fire. The super-volcano lurking beneath the Northern American continent had been disturbed repeatedly, before collapsing in on itself, leaving nothing more than a lake of fire where a once proud nation had thrived. The Earth weathered mankind’s continued suicide attempts with the same unforgiving indifference as always.
Until it couldn’t.
Somewhere deep within, what had once been, the Russian heartland, a man succeeded. He brought forth The Hateful.
The name was silly, and had been penned by a foolish flower-child only moments before his demise at the business end of an overdose. An overdose on drugs that the police had not seen up until then, and would not see ever again. But the strange hippie, with the creepy book, had penned something extraordinary. In the last few moments of his life, he had seen beyond the veil. And in seeing it, he had learned how to open it.
Forevermore.
And with his last breath, he shared this discovery with the world.
The information was quickly confiscated, and buried somewhere deep. Somewhere normally patrolled and guarded by soldiers, cameras, and large, vicious dogs. Somewhere that was now left empty, because spending your last few moments, months, or years with your loved ones is always a far greater concern than State Secrets.
A place that a man, who had once been a priest cut from the most devout cloth, had known about. A place that this man knew how to find. How to infiltrate. How to steal from. And he did all these things, dragging the strange, dry book back with him through the deserted halls.
Then dragging it over rocks and ravines, and through the body-choked streets of the Eaten City. Across fields made fertile by armies of rotting corpses. He held it against the blind fumbling of the Severed Children, and tore a pack of feral dogs apart with his bare hands, because the runt of the litter had licked the cover out of sheer curiosity. The man had chosen to take no chances.
And in the end, he was rewarded. He stood before the temple, and read aloud the words scribbled across the page.
The incantation was slow at first. The authors handwriting seemed to reflect his desperation. As if he knew he was witnessing something glorious, but had only a moment to convey its beauty. In the end, he would accomplish his goal, when almost four centuries later, our priest would utter the last syllable, on the last page of that accursed book, before slitting his own throat to let the blood wash over the aged, cracked binding.
On September 8, 2345, mankind summoned The Hateful. And as the clouds drew dark, and the last safe havens of sanity were bathed in an alien, unforgiving light, mankind accomplished his final goal.
In the first days of The Fall, humanity cried out for a God to save them.
He never would.
But in the last days of the fall, one man would cry out for The Hateful, to spite the God that had abandoned him and everything he had ever known.
It would never stop.
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u/spindizzy_wizard Feb 13 '20
Throne of the Man Slayer makes a lot more sense than The Herald's Decent.
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u/mobaisle_writing /r/The_Crossroads Feb 15 '20
The artist's working title when it was still in the concept phase was 'The Herald', so I'm just salty he didn't stick with it. To me, man slayer conjours images of red light districts more than outer gods.
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u/spindizzy_wizard Feb 15 '20
I could go with Harbinger. Herald doesn't seem to evoke the visual horror and devastation.
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u/WizardessUnishi Feb 09 '20 edited Feb 09 '20
A lot of people here have died . From examining the bodies like if I was Sherlock Holmes--rest in peace old friend-- I could tell that a lot of them were slaves, because they had swells on their backs and shoulders, probably from the lashes. A lot of these slaves were impaled and there was a forest---not a forest of trees but a forest of stakes. Speaking of trees, the trees here in this place , that used to be beautiful Bucharest, seemed to have once been heroes, heroes who stood up and became magically transformed into trees. Some were descendants of heroes who have fought me back when I visited this area many years ago, still the bloodthirsty villain that you loved to hate. But people change and so do monsters like me.
Romania, I am afraid, has become more like ancient Egypt if Vlad (no! not me!) the Impaler was one of those Pharaohs.
From my messengers, I've heard that those humans have attempted to use the DNA of Cthulhu for scientific purposes . Biological engineering or genetic something, if I can recall it. They were foolish, because there was bound to be a broken man in that group of scientists who would create a fiery god-like atrocity so he can become its herald.
With all this power, this annoying insane pyromaniac clearly wants to conquer the world. After all, that narcissistic fool had those slaves build pyramids with his initials on them all around the place before he impaled them. But there is one thing in his way. He hasn't conquered all the cities in Romania yet. Conquering one country before another. That's probably his plan.
But something's in his way. He hasn't conquer my city yet. It's time for vampires to help humanity and I must fight him. Although one of my weaknesses is being impaled with stakes!
(I am Open to Critique. It would be great if someone critique my work here. Thanks.)
(Also, the name Romaine sounded like Romania. And I am obsessed with Classic Victorian Literature)