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Rage is There
Posted By: dom1<moberly6@pacbell.net>
Date: 22 April 2005, 3:16 AM
Read/Post Comments
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Location: High Charity, secret Covenant punishing ceremony
Time: Time is a figment of your imagination. Just read.
The Elite roared out his deep laugh. "Your bond brother hardly put up a fight!" The words came slow, slurred, distorted, mutated. The hunter named Hurik'Chol stood there, dumbfounded. The spiritual bond between he and his Brother had been broken, and had left his mind reeling. He already felt his mind crumbling. He knew this didn't always happen to his kind, but it was happening to him. Voices came to him. His vision tunneled on the gold Elite before him. He had killed his Bond Brother. Supposedly, they had committed some form of Heresy, he didn't know, but this, this, was beyond reason. He didn't even notice the electricity that had begun to course through his body. The Elite came close, very close, and whispered, "you are a simpering fool, a faliure to your kind, you are so moronic you don't even realize it." The Elite laughed. Hurik'Chol could smell it's terrible breath, along with burnt ozone. He could here the voices more clearly now, slowing down, speeding up, over and over again. Whispering, yelling, whispering, yelling.Kill him, kill him, kill him, kill him,. He whispered to himself, "no..." The Elite paused, then bellowed out laughter. You hate him. End your pain. Vengeance. It is simple, all you must do is start the process. "No..." he said louder. The elite chuckled. He made a signal to a grunt at his side, and the electricity ceased. The Elite walked even closer, his chest at the hunters neck. The Elite muttered "fool", and backhanded Hurik'Chol. This was considered one of the highest disgraces in his culture, and now, it was the final straw. The voices became a screaming torrent. The words repeated, KILL HIM!! KILL HIM!! Hurik'Chol started shuddering. His bright orange skin became darker, turning into a metal black. The elite chuckled again and said "what a nice trick." Hurik'Chol turned to his right, where the grunt was standing, laughing, but shivering at the same time. His mind in a maelstrom, Hurik'Chol focused intently on the grunt. Suddenly, a pressure at the back of his mind released. A huge surge of energy exlpoded around the grunt. It's screams grew in pitch, untill they became a shrill cry. The vocal chords of the grunt burst out of it's throat, and the methane tanks erupted. The lights overhead flickered and cracked, raining sparks. Now, Hurik'Chol was looking staight at the Elite. The voices surged again, and this time he responded. He roared "KILL HIMMM!!!", and was answered by the screams of people below in the city. He easily broke free of his bonds, and a milisecond later he was behind the elite, his head right next to his ear and whispered, "kill him." He let the last syllable linger. The Elite barked in detestment and whipped around, bringing his plasma sword to bear. Mere inches from Hurik'Chol's face, it stopped. The Elite tried to move it, but found impenetrable resistence. A sharp pain formed in his wrist, and four tiny blades popped out. The Elite yelped, then screamed as the blades went corkscrew style up his arm to his elbow. Not missing a beat, Hurik'Chol reared back, brought his arms up, and roared. He brought his mighty fists down, utterly smashing the Elite's head. The head travelled through the body, and implanted itself in the floor. The body shattered, and the momentum of the blow carried to every liitle shard of it. The end result was like a shotgun blast, straight through the ten foot thick metal floor. Hurik'Chol turned and jumped to the balcony wall. Atop it, he viewed the city below, and took in the screams. He roared again, and blades sprouted from his wrists like a bushel of steely death. He laughed and boomed out, "now you will know that rage is there." He lept down, letting the voices carry him.
Far above, the Prophet of Truth observed it all. An Elite stepped from the shadows. "Excellency, should we intervene?" After a few minutes, Truth turned to him. "No, these things tend to end themselves. However, I want him to be observed. Give him as many casualties as he would like. And let this be a lesson, never, ever, disrespct a Hunter in any way." "But whom shall I send, Excellency?" "No one in particular, whoever you would feel appropriate." "I am honered, Excellency," As the Elite turned away, he began to wonder how many brutes would suffice as 'casualties'.
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