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Post by ❴ ғα∂ιηg ✦ яεαℓιтү ❵ on Oct 8, 2017 0:26:25 GMT -5
I really feel bad about you having worked on it and not getting done in time that I want to say yes, but at the same time I told others they had to have it done by the deadline, so I'll give you 30 minutes to finish it (1:45a.m. forum time)
OOC
Doable. Thanks so much! I was really excited about the prompt and meant to finish it yesterday, but real life happened and I wasn't able to get any writing time in until now.
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I understand that, and just try to get it done by the given time from now on, this will be the only exception I give you |
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Post by 𝕊’𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 on Oct 8, 2017 0:35:18 GMT -5
OOC
Aha! Here we go! It's not the best since the ending is a little rushed, but I'm still kinda proud of how it turned out.
It was dark.
It was always dark though. There had only ever been darkness. It engulfed everything around it, hiding even the most painstakingly obvious things from sight. Not that there was anything to see anyways. Just darkness.
There truly was nothing else. No noise, no smells, nothing to touch, to taste, to feel, there was nothing. Not even life. There had only ever been darkness and darkness was all there ever would be.
That is, until it wasn’t.
Suddenly, there was pain as air leaked its way into the darkness, summoning the bleak, empty body back to life.
It let out a pained, sudden gasp as it began to breathe. One might not think that breathing was painful, but for one who had not done it for so long…It was.
Soon, there was more than just darkness and breathing.
Soon, there was life.
Eyes fluttered open, withholding the surprise of suddenly living as It looked around. There was still darkness, but this was…different, than before. This darkness was suffocating, it was real, it was everywhere, and it was encasing everything.
However, before panic could settle in, everything began to move and suddenly: there was sound.
It wasn’t anything great at first, just the noise of something rushing past, speeding through the darkness as it began to ebb away into something less dark, and then even less. It was then that It realized that It was what flickered out of the darkness.
Suddenly, there was light, and color. It came in a blur, different shades of black, then gray, then finally, white. The color came much faster than the noise, but even that began to get more exuberant as it rushed on.
And then, there were words, voices, people speaking. It could barely get what was being said out, as it was distant and far away, only echoing back, but then, as It began to get closer and closer to the noises, they began to get louder, clearer, until finally, It could hear everything that was being said, word for word.
“You have no idea what that does, I’m begging you, don’t do it.”
It recognized that voice. But…from where?
“How would you know? You are nothing but a homeless freak.”
It did not recognize that voice, yet there was something oddly appealing about it. The way the voice spoke, full of spite and emotion. It was a voice that It could relate to.
“No, don't-“
The first voice, the one It recognized, didn’t get to finish it’s sentence, as all of a sudden, the rushing continued, circling It from all around. Suddenly, it felt like It was suffocating again, and desperately tried to breathe as the panic and pain sunk back it.
However, in all but a second, the pain was gone. The rushing was gone. Everything that It once knew was gone. All the silence, all the emptiness, all the darkness.
Instead, it had been replaced by a world of color, of foundation, of…life.
It slowly stood up on shaky feet, looking down at it’s legs and arms. They were not It’s own, It knew that, but as It stood there, a sudden wave of realization and memory washed over It.
And suddenly, It remembered.
It looked up, finding two faces, one was not familiar to It. That face was scaly, and green, with a look of both confusion and excitement shining upon the face.
However the second face…well It knew that face.
A sudden wave of anger washed through It as It remembered the second face of pale skin and green eyes full of worry and irritation to match that same green hair. It remembered that face well.
For that was the face that had destroyed It all those years ago.
Suddenly, a rush of power engulfed It, and a thought came to mind.
It began to laugh as It rose in the air, looking down at the faces. Then, once It was high enough in the air, It smiled and then…It spoke.
“It has been a long time Eeeyuppa, I have awoken, and now, it is you who will be destroyed,” It threatened in a voice unlike It’s own.
However that was fine with It, for the face was scared, for both the face and It now knew, that It had awaken from a sleep it never meant to be awoken from, and now…
It was going to get revenge.
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Post by 𝕊’𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 on Oct 8, 2017 0:35:47 GMT -5
OOC
Doable. Thanks so much! I was really excited about the prompt and meant to finish it yesterday, but real life happened and I wasn't able to get any writing time in until now.
IC
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I understand that, and just try to get it done by the given time from now on, this will be the only exception I give you
OOC
I totally understand, thanks again, this prompt was really fun to work with.
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Post by ❴ ғα∂ιηg ✦ яεαℓιтү ❵ on Oct 8, 2017 12:22:32 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on Oct 8, 2017 16:25:24 GMT -5
my entry, hope ya like I could see out of two holes in my head, vacant and blank like caverns. The surrounding world was filled with gray smoke and my vague selfness felt dry, faint, nearly to the point of being...almost dead?
And completely this time.
Fires crackled, and skeletons swarmed all around me, pearly bone against bone, hollow, lifeless but still with spirit. How did it ever happen?
I didn't know, and never had the chance to find out. The way things were now, I wouldn't have the time. War was everywhere: Crawling, screeching, fiery and hateful. We were born to fight, or reborn to fight. Swords pricked the smoky air, the stars above blocked by a thick layer of smoke or fog—I didn't know which.
I looked down at my feet, shoving my way through the milling crowd, and looked back up, hearing the cannons fire in the distance. Bones littered the ground, some tripping over them, others using the dismembered body parts as weapons for slingshots or just things to throw. I squinted and ducked as one flew over my head and hit someone else between his eyes. I heard a conk, and then a groan.
I raised my sword and slashed it blindly, feeling the blade scrape against bone and slice through air, fast like a whip. I whirled around as I felt cold, hard hands grab my arm. I wrenched it free and sliced the blade straight through the center of the skull, denting the hard whiteness. My enemy retaliated, wrenching my arm back and kicking my leg under me as I dropped my trusty sword. I half-fell, feeling delicate bone twist in the grip of my opponent and struggling hard, grasping for my sword.
I might've been used to it all, but I felt in a sense that maybe I could still run away, get further and further away from the peril of my surroundings, stop fighting forever. Live on a guarded island in the distance and take over. Was I a coward? Yes. And I was a savage, too. It was my nature. It was the only way I could truly survive—what was left of me, anyway.
A force deterred these thoughts. I had a drive to prevail—against what or whom, I didn't know. But ever since the world had become vague, uncomfortable … my mind had started working differently. I had a ferocity with a weight behind it, to gain power and to do good for myself. But only myself. And in spite of the "good" for myself I planned to do, I had become immoral—to the bone, you could say.
I twisted back with a new strength, grabbed my sword, and slashed it hard into the neck of the other skeleton. It fell at my feet, crumbling. I bumped into someone else and gripped the skeleton by the neck, snapping it with all my might. A blade cut at my toes and I gave a hard kick in that direction, another cannon firing in the distance. Then a black mass above came down, and a weight was on top of me. Fire and heat clouded my world, ethereal, and suddenly, the last of me was gone, scattered. I was floating, floating ...
I woke up with flames all around, despairing souls screeching, pain and heat and discomfort in the air, the opposite of good. And then there was whiteness, and quiet. A black shadow rose in the distance and slowly came toward me. I scrambled to get up, but I was chained closely to the ground. The shadow grew bigger and bigger and suddenly, it was engulfing me in a dense black fog.
Once again the scene changed, a big pair of eyes greeting me, the gaze strong and authoritative. I looked all around, and then at my legs. Then at my arms. Suddenly, a mirror was in my face, and I knew myself again.
"You have seen Hell, and now you are granted with new life. Do not take it for granted."
I nodded.
***
"Have a bad dream?" Mom asked me, looking concerned as she stood in the doorway. I blinked a few times and looked up at her.
"Yeah." I said, shuddering and getting out of bed. "It was weird." |
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Post by EthanTheAnnus on Oct 9, 2017 1:41:30 GMT -5
I HAS ENTERED.
"Well, this will be fun," I muttered. I flexed the bones in my tail gingerly. I was staring at the world from gaping holes in my skull. I could see my own bones; not pure white, like I'd imagined, but instead more of an off-white, with some yellowed and rotting patches here or there. I tried to blink. I couldn't- guess you can't when you're a skeleton. I spotted another cat at my side.
"Who are you?" I growled, wary. I tried to unsheathe my claws, then realised they had become like a dog's- always out and unable to retract.
"M-My name's Minnowfur. O-Or it was, anyway."
"Minnowfur?" I gaped.
"D-Do I know you?"
"It's me! Ashtalon!" I put one paw towards her. She smiled, then a single skeleton cat appeared on the horizon. One forepaw was twisted to the side and it's left ear was missing. I gasped.
"M-Mountainpeak?" It was my turn to stutter. The cat approached with a laugh.
"You got that right. Now, I believe we have unfinished business." He flicked his ear and swarms of skeletal cats emerged, pushing up through the dirt, swamping me and Minnowfur.
"Mountainpeak! you're better than this!" I howled, fending off attack after attack, my spine pressed up against Minnowfur's (balance was awkward; our bones kept slipping and making our ribcages bash together).
"Ha. That's what they all say." He flicked his tail and more skeletal warriors emerged, rushing forwards to join the attack.
"We can't hold them off forever," Minnowfur mewed. I could barely hear her over the clanking of bones. Then it hit me.
"If Mountainpeak can summon an army," I said, "Then so can I!" I grinned, flicked my ear and skeletal warriors burst from the ground, this time fighting on my side. I flicked my tail and more warriors emerged, this time managing to fight past Mountainpeak's inner guard. I smiled. Maybe beating my evil son wouldn't be so hard after all.
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Post by ѕкεlεтσиѕ αяε иσω αlινε on Oct 9, 2017 22:19:56 GMT -5
this was so fun to do, i'm very excited for the next prompt! <3 “It’s an infamous myth! A tale that humans enjoy passing down to their little ones in feeble displays of bravado at their bedtimes, a story that teenagers whisper to each other at sleepovers to make one another giggle. In truth, it shouldn’t be taken so lightly, seeing as thousands upon thousands of undead were mercilessly re-slaughter at the hands of-” “Okay, I’m gonna stop you there.” “What? I was just gettin’ to the good part!” Two small children sit across from each other on a fuzzy rag carpet, criss-cross applesauce’d and hunched over a large storybook. Their room looks very normal, if not overly formal- large, dusty pink drapes are strewn over a window and the porcelain desks have several little gadgets and trinkets that show signs of wear. No, it’s the children who look odd; rather than rosy young cheeks and heads full of curly hair they have well-washed bones that rattle slightly with every move they make. They’re skeletons, and they’ll be darned if they aren’t proud of it. “You know it wasn’t like that! Mum was there, and she saids it was…” The little skeleton pauses. “...what was the word she used?” “Ridiculous.” “Yes! She says it’s ridiculous, and that Pa is saying all sortsa big fat lies.” An odd silence hangs through the room, moonlight filtering through the cracks in the thick curtains and casting an eerie glow down on the children. They were both deep in thought, tapping their fingers against the empty holes in place of eyes. An unspoken thought was being shared between the two- another myth, per se, that had been passed down from generations to generations of skeleton families. The tale in question is something called necromancy. The way it works is a tad odd; a human could be resurrected from their grave as a skeleton by a lich, yet every time that occurred the said lich would be drained of their kindling life force. A gamble, of sorts. And the person who was resurrected wouldn’t be alive again without a price- death is no light game. Their memories would be swapped for their undead state, whether they liked it or not. It would all be in the hands of a lich. “Hey, you remember the story that mum told us a really long time ago?” “About the lich?” “Yes, that. Do you think that Pa could’ve…?” The first skeleton- the more inquisitive one- has a name, and it’s about time it gets shared. Her name is Constance Amberden, and her surname is shared with her brother Percival. “No, way!” retorts Percival, his eyes (or lack thereof) growing wide. “Pa may have bad memories, but there’s no way in heck that he was ever a humans. Y’know what humans do when they see us skeletons, right?” “Yes, but… Mum says that bein’ a lich was an incredibibble job during the Skeleton War. An’ she gets real sad when we ask about Pa’s work in the past.” Percival and Constance stare at one another, frowning worriedly. “Maybe we should jus’ ignore it…” Constance quickly nods in agreement, bobbing her little head as fast as she possibly can. “Couldn’t agree more, brother o’ mine. I do have one more question, though...” “Mhm?” “Where’d you learn all those big words?” SOME 400 YEARS AGO… A fair skeleton lady clad in strong, resilient armor stands in front a bold-looking human man, both of whom are wielding swords with their fists clenched. The dame speaks. “Hugo, listen to me. You will die out there- I know how strong my side of the army is. You can not do this. Stop trying to be the hero!” She seems frustrated, but sadness leaks from her tone like water through fingers. “My darling Marigold,” replies Hugo, reaching out to caress her skull. Her scowl grows deeper and she flinches away, causing him to sigh wearily. “I never meant for it to come to this, you know. I never wanted our love to be forbidden.” Marigold snarls in response, holding her sword higher. Despite her fragile structure, she looks like she could fight her burly comrade and win. “Then you never should have started this, Hugo. Thousands have died- MY FAMILY has died- because you and your dastardly experiments. I hate you, Hugo. Now go.” “No, you don’t.” The skin around his eyes crinkles threateningly as he wears a fraud smile, stepping closer to her. “If you did, you wouldn’t have come to stop me.” This causes her to falter, her expression growing pained. “Listen, Hugo, please. Come with me! We can stop this, we can make peace! I am the queen, and I have no sire- if I get married to you, we could stop the war- all the death, the chaos, the destruction and pain…” Now it’s Hugo’s turn to growl deeply, burrowing his eyebrows into a deep frown. “But I need skeletons- I’ll lose my job if I can’t keep up with my studies of anatomy.” Marigold gasps in hurt, her tone beyond outraged. “You could not possibly be more childish! You would be saving countless LIVES! Can you not put others before yourself? This is life or death, Hugo. Think of me, think of everyone, think of…” She grimaces. “Think of the family we could have.” The human grabs her shoulders, his eyes stoney, and shoves her out of the way, continuing on his path. She runs after him, but some sort of strength, a roaring fire of determination, has consumed him, causing him to deflect every blow she flings. On and on they go, Marigold growing more exhausted with every futile swing of her sword. Her expression is fury, furious that she could have let this happen and furious that she had allowed him to manipulate her to get to the top. He had fought his way from the bottom of the chain and was now reigning over it with his pinky finger, twisting around the fates. And all because he hadn’t wanted to lose his job. Well, it’s far too late for any of that now. And then something happens- a sword, plunged through the back of a chest, the point sticking out from a gaping wound in the stomach of a dead man. “Marigold…?” Hugo turns to her, blood beginning to drip from his throat and mouth. “Oh… oh God, oh no…” She covers her mouth, horrified at what she’s done. And he falls, and Marigold Amberden will never forget the sound that it made. THE NEXT DAY… The war is over. The king of the humans was found dead, and the queen of skeletons declared the seemingly endless battle concluded. Thousands upon thousands rejoiced, celebrating this wonderful day. Except the queen. She’s hunched over the body of the king, tears dripping from her sockets. If only things could have been different… if only she had noticed his plans, if only she had brought out the good inside of him… “Darling, why do you weep so?” A mysterious voice coos at her from the entrance of her room, causing her to gasp and flinch and whip around. Nobody is there. “I could help you, my dear.” “Who are you? Show yourself, I demand it.” A light cackle ripples through the air, like wind chimes in the breeze. “Why, dearest, can’t you tell? I’m a lich.” |
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Oct 12, 2017 14:30:17 GMT -5
Posting this on a school computer. Probably will come back and edit this later. They told me to prepare for the skeleton war. Sure, I’ll give them that. That was nice of them; credit where credit is due. It’s the thought that counts. But what I have a problem with is the sloppy execution on their part; they didn’t tell me what it was. The Skeleton War. I figured that would be a big, glorious battle. But it wasn’t. So I felt a little silly, and… well, unprepared, when I actually died.
And hey, cut me some slack here; it’s hard to prepare for something when you don’t know what it is. Sure, if someone tells you to get ready, you’ll definitely be expecting something to happen. But that’s not very helpful, is it? If you open the presents at your birthday party, you’re expecting to see candy, or money, or a funny card. You aren’t expecting a baby velociraptor to jump out at you. And if you are… I mean, it’s pretty stupid of you to open the box, right? If someone told you to prepare to open that box, you might want raptor wrangling gloves. Or the money that your friends have to get you a freakin’ velociraptor. ANd if you aren’t prepared, you die. Or wind up with some pretty metal looking battle scars.
And you’d think, with how much I mention velociraptors, that that’s how I went. So I ask you this; how would my friends even get a velociraptor? How would yours, if you expect raptors at your birthday parties? Raptor death would make an interesting story, at least, and would have maybe even get a laugh or two in the waiting room. And yes, there is a waiting room. The afterlife isn’t what they tell you it is.
It’s empty white behind you, and okay yeah, that’s what you expect. But there’s this door in front of you, and a long line. The first thing they make you do is walk through this big, metal detector looking security thing. Remember how I said I felt silly? Yeah, that’s because I had written in my will that I wanted to be buried in full battle plate. The top of my helmet wouldn’t have made it through the frame of the thing, it was so tall. Do you know what kind of look the lady gave me when I got to the front of that line?
‘Cause I don’t. She didn’t have skin. Or muscles. Or anything. Just… bones and a dress. A skeleton. Not much of a warlord in appearance. The only thing I could think was why did she have her glasses on a string around her neck if she didn’t have eyes? But I didn’t ask because judging by the look on her face -yes, the one I was having trouble gauging- she was a no-nonsense sort of skeleton. She had a little badge on her chest that said “Susan.” I didn’t think Susan would appreciate me pointing out how generic that was.
She eyed me up and down, then gave me that look again. Nothing about her face changed, but the facial expression wasn’t necessary when she was staring at me like that. “What’s your name?”
“Doug.”
“There’s one of you every session, Doug,” she finally said, waving me through with a sigh. “Just take off the armour and walk through.”
“There’s a Doug every session?” That seemed unlikely to me. But Susan didn’t respond, so I took off all my battle armour, since I guess skeletons don’t have privates or anything. A little weird, but whatever. Maybe I’d get clothes later.
“What now?” I asked Susan, standing there in the skeleton nude. “Do I have to do any like… death paperwork?”
Susan stopped typing on the computer at her desk, and she looked back up at me with the same exasperated sigh. “Nothing fancy, Doug. But you might want to get your death story straight, because that’s always the first thing the announcers ask.”
“The announcers?” I imagined her raising an eyebrow at me, like that’s a stupid question.
“For the debate,” she said, like I should have known that. Before I could ask about that, she gave me a blue t-shirt and motioned to the door. No pants, I guess. Whatever.
I went through the door. I didn’t get any spooky dead feelings. It just kinda felt like nothing. Boring, I know. The afterlife doesn’t owe you anything, I guess. It doesn’t have to be interesting. I wasn’t being fair.
I don’t know about anyone else, really. But I’m guessing, when you hear skeleton war, you expect a battlefield. Most people don’t know the truth; the afterlife is actually a nice pastel sea green room, which kinda smells like a dentist’s office. It’s a little cold, and I don’t know why I noticed, because I was literally just bones. I choose to distract myself by looking around. There are lots of chairs, like a lobby, maybe. Lots of skeletons sitting in them. So I sit on the end and wait for… I don’t know, honestly. There’s a few pieces of pleasant art hanging up on the walls -famous stuff, mostly, but with the people reimagined as skeletons. They make up for the lack of expressions with colours. They’re nice.
While I was distracted and enjoying the decorations, I notice that a few soft leather chairs down, there’s this group of other blue shirted skeletons watching me. so I looked for possible social escape routes. There was a water cooler in the back, next to the dark little plant in the big blue ceramic pot in the corner.
So I went over and got myself a water. That’s what you do if you don’t want to talk to people. Or skeletons. And it’s standing there, holding my paper cup under the tap and trying to get a perfect balance of hot and cold water and wondering why I thought I’d be able to drink it, that they approach me.
There was four of them, and they stand in a semicircle around me. I turn around, holding my water like an idiot. “What’s up?” I asked.
“You’re Doug,” the lead skeleton says. I know he’s the leader because he spoke first, and because it says THE BOSS in bold white font on his shirt. But I'd like to pretend I’m smart enough to guess. If guessing makes you smart, this guy's up, since he guessed my name, and I don't even have something on my shirt. I was pretty sure, anyway.
I checked my t-shirt, just in case. No nametag. Good. I looked back up at him. “Yeah. I am.”
He took my water from me. Drank it. Got himself a refill. Drank boiling water. “Cool, man. I’m Josh. Welcome to the team.”
Where was the water going? I took another cup. My hands shook when I was trying to get the tap to work. Loud bubbles filled the silence. It was really loud. My hands continued to shake as I lifted the cup to my lips. I thought I’d pour it all over myself. Used taking a sip as an excuse for a pause. But they were still watching me pretty intently. “Team?” I felt pretty stupid not knowing what everyone was talking about. And I forgot to shake his hand! But he had lowered it already. Too late now.
“For the debate?” Josh finished his water and casually put the cup back in the stack for some unfortunate person to use after him. “THe TV show, man. You’ve heard all about Skeleton War, haven’t you? We’re going up against the reds in a few hours. Whoever wins gets to come back to life. We’ve been waiting for a fourth for like, for ever, but tonight is the night. You ready?”
“Yeah,” I whispered over the rim of my cup. It was room temperature. I wasn’t cool enough to try boiling yet. Maybe it didn’t hurt skeletons. Wasn’t risking it in front of them.
“Sweet,” Josh said brightly. And the other skeletons led me away.
And now I’m sitting at a prop desk, waiting for the camera to roll. I didn’t have the heart to tell these guys that I had no idea what was going on. I didn’t have the stomach to do a live debate in front of everyone. I didn’t have any damn organs!
So my advice to you is this; prepare for the Skeleton War. You’ll want to study hard.
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Post by . on Oct 14, 2017 20:15:07 GMT -5
It was a bright and peaceful morning. There were no sounds of war and I joined my companion at the breakfast table.
"Hey, Max. How's my favorite boy?" one of the other guys asked. He rubbed my head in the spot between my ears that I loved so much before tossing me a piece of sausage from his plate.
"Come on, Joey. You know he can't gain anymore weight. You're the one that keeps fattening up my dog," my companion spoke, some kind of challenge in his voice as he stared down the other man.
"Relax, Johnson. He may be a little chubby, but Max is the best soldier we got," Joey said, a low laugh causing his body to vibrate.
I tilted my head, letting out a whine as I heard something odd. I couldn't tell what it was, but anything out of the ordinary could mean certain death.
"Max-?" The question was cut off as alarms started to blare. Chaos erupted as half dressed men ran in opposite directions. They seemed to know what they were doing, but I stuck close to my companion.
We were soon separated and that's when the whole world fell apart.
My body was blown backwards and there was a ringing in my ears. I looked down to see red staining my chest and was soon picked up by the man who had fed me sausage only minutes earlier.
"Hold on, Max," he said, burying his face in my furry shoulder. I bounced in his arms as he ran past piles of rubble and groaning men, but soon everything faded to black.
Head low, I prowled along the outside of the battlefield. It was a familiar sight. The battlefield was the last thing I had seen before I died.
However, this one was different. Soldiers of every era fought. A man with a ripped and torn Confederate uniform hanging from his slim frame fought against a recently deceased soldier, eyes filled with fury as the two battled. Even species intermingled, and I knew that's where I came in. I had faithfully served my companion for years. I wouldn't be here if he still needed me. I had a new master to serve.
Teeth bared, I launched my muscular body into the fray. This is when I noticed how different the war really was from the one I had left. Once I had passed the invisible borders of the battlefield, the soldiers had changed appearance. They still wore their original clothes and held the same odd mixture of weapons I had seen before, but now sickly pale skin and bloody wounds had morphed into clean, white bone. A chorus of clanking bones had joined the clanging of swords and booming of guns to create a cacophony of noise.
Shaking my head, I cleared my mind and thought back to the task at hand. I had not been given a task, but it seemed to enter my mind anyway. Kill. Bite. Protect. Kill. Bite. Protect. I bit down hard on the leg closest to my head. There was no rip of skin, no metallic taste of blood, no shout of pain or surprise. The owner of the leg let out a noise that resembled the annoyed grunt my companion used to make when one of the guys messed with his stuff. However, unlike my companion, the owner of the leg paused his fight with a tall figure clad in hefty armor to turn and hit me with a bone he'd picked up front ground.
Whimpering, I recoiled and was surprised to see how fast the pain faded away. Back home, I had lived in fear. One wrong step would be the end of me. I had made that wrong step that morning. Here, I was strong. I was practically invincible.
Revitalized by this discovery, I launched my body into battle once again. I lunged at a creature's leg, pulling the bone harshly. The creature tumbled to the ground, bones scattering across the area. Nobody seemed to notice and the creature's opponent, a large horse made of bones, reared up before galloping across the battlefield to find someone else to fight. Watching the animal make its way across the field, I turned to find a new enemy.
If I had been alive, my blood would me pumping and my muscles would be tense. However, as nothing more than a skeleton, I didn't get the normal adrenaline pumping that I usually did.
A sound of clanging bones caught my attention and I turned behind me to see a civil war soldier swinging a bone at me as if it were some kind of sword. Well, when you lost a weapon, there were plenty of bones around to replace it. I ducked under the swing and laughed myself at his legs again, but the skeleton stepped aside. Another creature, something resembling a large cat of some type, stepped in to battle my opponent. Their battle was fierce, but over quickly. The cat fell to the ground and broke into pieces and the soldier seemed to make a laughing type noise before walking away, bone sword waving casually at his side.
It was a game.
After that battle, I noticed the same thing. One fighter would fall and the other would laugh as they walked away. Sometimes two opponents would be grappling for quite some time before they separated, laughing, to go find new opponents. It was all a game to them? Back home, war had been taken seriously. Apparently, when you're already dead, there isn't as much to worry about.
It was a game.
I liked games. I liked playing frisbee or fetch. I liked stealing my companion's socks and getting him to chase me. Those were all games and so was this. This was just a game I'd trained for my entire life.
I threw myself into battle, taking out skeleton after skeleton. At one point, I even took down something way bigger and stronger than myself. I'm not sure what it was, but I knew I wouldn't have been able to take it down if it had skin and muscle and all of that fun stuff one tends to lose when they die.
This continued as I went from creature to creature, taking my opponents down with a swipe of my paw or a bite from my jaw. I made my way toward the center of the battlefield, realizing that that was where the fighting was more intense. It was like a ladder. Every time you won a battle, you moved closer to the middle.
And then there I was.
On the most inside ring (besides the center, of course), I was locked in a fierce battle with what was once a lion. The cat opened its mouth as if to growl, but no noise came out. It was no more than a pile of bones now. It lowered its head, stalking in a circle. I did the same.
With a great leap, my opponent lunged at me. I dodged to the side, his razor sharp teeth barley missing my bony tail. It seemed to go on like those for months or years, but it must've been only minutes. I truly had no concept of time in this place.
After what seemed to be forever, I watched in triumph as the lion's bones fell to a pile on the ground. All battles stopped as the creatures turned to watch me step into the center of the battlefield. A small circle marked our arena as I face off against a large wolf whose body structure was eerily similar to mine.
There was silence as the wolf ducked low and began to circle me. I did the same. Not at all weakened by the fights before this, I waited for the wolf to make the first move. After a few minutes of circling, the wolf lunged towards my throat. Startled, i stepped back before realizing that wouldn't come with the same consequences as it came with back when I was alive. Confident once again, I leapt towards the wolf's legs. It dodged before plowing into my side and knocking me over.
The skeletons surrounded us went nuts as they expected the wolf to go in for the killing blow, beating yet another opponent.
No.
I wouldn't let it happen that easily.
Reenergized, I pushed my opponent off and tackled it to the ground similarly to how it had tackled me.
And then the battle was over. In one swift move, my attacked flipped us over and went after my throat again. This time, it managed to pull a bone out and there was a burst of pain before everything faded to black.
I woke up staring into the face of my companion. There was a ragged hole in his chest and I wondered what had happened to him after that dreadful morning. He seemed happier now than I'd ever seen him and he relaxed, a smile settling over his face when he saw me.
"Hey, Max," he called. I padded by his side as we walked towards nothingness. "We did our duty, bud. Ready to retire?"
With a bark, I joined him and we made our way into the true afterlife.
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Post by ❴ ғα∂ιηg ✦ яεαℓιтү ❵ on Oct 14, 2017 20:25:57 GMT -5
Thanks for the entries! I should have the final results for the last week by at least Tuesday at the latest
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