VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 10:18:37 04/19/03 Sat
Author: Chuck
Subject: LW post: Calling of the First, PG

DISCLAIMER: None of the character belongs to me. I just loved the idea.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: There. It's done. I can go die now. This is only my second Buffy-verse fic, so please be gentle...lol

SPECIAL THANKS: to Farq...who sent me the lyrics... Countin' Flowers On the Wall by Eric Heatherley...Lyric posted below

*************************************

The cave was dark, damp and silent, save for the scraping of her chains on the rock with even the slightest movement.

The men had not come in ages, or so it felt. The actual passage of time was lost to the girl. She had been in this dark place for as long as she could remember. She knew that she had not been here forever, but when she tried to focus on the time before she found herself trapped in this place, her memories were cloudy and most times indecipherable.

She wrapped the silence around her and tried to remember to throw herself back to what had to be happier times, but there were none for her to remember. No memories to lose herself in.

Once again she found herself here, in the dark, forever trapped in this moment with no hope for escape. Death would not even release her from this prison.

Silent sobs trembles through her body. The chains she wore scraped lightly across the floor and she froze. Each slight echo of the scraping bounced throughout the cave The chains and the rocks roared to life around her in a variety of sound that, though inaudible, grew so loud and painful inside her it threatened to suffocate her. She flinched in pain as the invisible waves of sound racked across her body.

The pain was unbearable to her and she screamed, louder and louder, hoping that the sounds of her scream would overpower the pain in her mind and sooth the invisible wounds on her body. Her efforts did not help.

The symphony of pain surrounding her vanished in the speaking of a word with killed all sound and threw the blinding brightness of firelight all around her as the torches on the wall burst to life.

The light was brilliant and caused a rippling flower pattern to flow across her vision. She grew calm as she counted, counted the beautiful flowers as they spread across the wall. Her calmness was temporary and faded slowly as the flower patterns faded the more her eyes became accustomed to the light.

She saw the men standing around her, and she froze. They were standing around her in their flowing robes speaking to her in a language she barely understood. It was similar, but not her language. This was not the first time the men had come to her, but this time they had brought others with them. There were two other men there that day.

One of the other men was standing rigid against the wall. His skin was smooth in some parts and scaly in others. Horns protruded his head cause unnatural parts in his hair. His eyes, half human and half animal, like a beast of the field, were glassy and dazed. His breath was coming in ragged gasps.

The other was in chains and slumped on the floor. His face was pale and contorted in pain. What she could see of his eyes was light and almost yellow. Small waves of ridges lined his forehead. A feeling of dread filled her and she wondered if that was the kind of pain the men intended to cause her.

The men in the flowing, colorful robs began to speak again, not to each other, but in unison. Words flowed from their mouths in a slow rhythmic manner, and they began to walk around her, circling her.

The air in the cave thickened and they began to tap their long staffs on the cave floor. The tapping of the staffs was in synch with the rhythmic words that flowed from their mouths into the air thickening it even more.

Suddenly they stopped, slammed the staffs to the ground one final time, and silence filled the cave once again.

The tallest of the men laid his staff in front of her and the remaining ones followed his movement, laying their staffs in a triangular pattern around her.

The girl was frozen. Every muscle and nerve in her body seized in place and she struggled, fighting with her own body to move

The tall man moved slowly, rhythmically speaking again towards the man standing rigidly against the wall. He stopped and ran his hand slowly over his chest, parting the folds of his clothing and revealing his chest. The skin on his chest was the same as that on his face, dark and smooth in some places light and scaly in others.

The man drew up the sleeve of his robes and placed his hand over the heart of the man. Small wisps of smoke rose from his hand as he pushed it slowly into the other mans chest, burying it wrist deep into his chest.

With one solid movement the robed man yanked his arm out his chest. The man went stiff against the wall and then slumped lazily down to the ground.

The robed man turned slowly and held his hand out in front of him. In his hand was a tiny silver box, which he walked over and placed in front of the girl.

One of the other men in robes walked slowly toward the man who was in chains on the floor. He began to speak in the same rhythmic tones. The man knelt down and pulled a knife out of one side of his long robes. He also pulled out a long sliver of word and a wooden bowl out of his robes and laid them out next to him.

He reached one long, spindly arm toward the chained man and grabbed on of his arms, turning it slowly and exposing his wrist. The robed man reached over to his side and grabbed the knife, ran it deep along the surface of the wrist and then adjusted the arm so the blood would run freely.

He placed the knife back at his side and grabbed the wooden bowl, placed it under the man's wrist and filled it with blood. Carefully then he placed the bowl back at his side and grabbed the sliver of wood.

With one hand the robed man snapped back the head of the chained man far enough to expose his chest, reared back the sliver in his other hand and drove it soundly into his chest.

The body convulsed and then shattered in a shower of fine dust particles. The chains fell lifelessly to the ground. The man in robes gathered some of the dust and dropped it into the bowl of blood, stirring it carefully with the sliver of wood.

He stood and walked to the girl, placing it down beside the tiny silver box and step to the side, taking his place in front of his staff, as the man before him did.

The remaining robed man knelt down before the girl, speaking in a rhythmic voice that matched the beating of the girl's heart. The girl felt her body move without her permission. She leaned her head back and opened her mouth wide to the ceiling above.

The man chanted further as he reached he reached for the tiny silver box and slid it open. A small cloud of black mist rose from the box and danced lightly in the air. Slowly, it began to reach toward the girl. One small strand began to pull towards the girls open mouth and then began to flow inside.

The girl screamed inside. There was no sound coming from her mouth, but inside her mind she screamed as she had never screamed before. She felt the mist slide down the throat and burrow its way through her lungs directly into her heart and blood. A burning sensation filled her body, spreading slowly from her heart outward to where ever her blood did flow. A small, calming voice spoke to her, in her language, inside her mind.

"My name is Akealzid." It said to her, " And I love you. Your time is done, child, as is mine. Now, it is our time."

The girl convulsed as she felt her mind collapse in on itself, he memories open in a flood that filled her so rapidly that she could not keep up with any one of them. The snippets she did manage to process were tainted, with times and places that she did not know, memories that were not hers.

"They are my memories child," the voice cooed inside her brain, "soon we will be as one and we can rest."

The girl released her mental hold on the memories and allowed them all to wash over her. She felt herself begin to slip further and further away from herself into a place of quiet and peace.

Through the eyes of a body that was once hers she could still see the men in their robes, hear the rhythmic sounds of their voices and they poured the contents of the wooden bowl into her mouth. She felt the hot liquid infuse her very body with its strength.

The girl felt the control on her body release and felt it sag forward, panting for breath.

She felt the body move now, freely, neither her nor the robed men controlled her.

The girl closed her eyes and felt herself slip away. She was free.

*************************************

Countin' Flowers On the Wall

Sung by Eric Heatherley.

Written by Lew Dewitt.
((c) Wallflower Music/Copyright Management.)
From "Swimming In Champagne", (c) 2000, Mercury.

I keep hearing you're concerned about my happiness.
All that thought you're giving me is conscience, I guess.
If I were walking in your shoes, I wouldn't worry none.
While you and your friends are worrying 'bout me, I'm having lots of fun.

Counting flowers on the wall,
That don't bother me at all.
Playing Solitaire till dawn,
With a deck of fifty-one.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now, don't tell me I've nothing to do.

Last night I dressed in tails, pretended I was on the town.
As long as I can dream, it's hard to slow this swinger down.
So please don't give a thought to me, I'm really doing fine.
You can always find me here, having quite a time.

Counting flowers on the wall,
That don't bother me at all.
Playing Solitaire till dawn,
With a deck of fifty-one.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now, don't tell me I've nothing to do.

Well, it's good to see you, I must go, I know I look a fright.
Anyway my eyes are not accustomed to this light.
And my shoes are not accustomed to this hard concrete.
So I must go back to my room and make my day complete.

Counting flowers on the wall,
That don't bother me at all.
Playing Solitaire till dawn,
With a deck of fifty-one.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.

Now, counting flowers on the wall,
That don't bother me at all.
Playing Solitaire till dawn,
With a deck of fifty-one.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now, don't tell me I've nothing to do.

Don't tell me I've nothing to do.

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

Post a message:
This forum requires an account to post.
[ Create Account ]
[ Login ]
[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-8
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.