|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Aug 21, 2018 7:10 pm
𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝x⍆x𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘭𝘷𝘪𝘢xxxxNew World l Prison Island
 ____________________________________________________
xxxxxClaimed by: ---x▰▰▰▰▰▰
⟔
A cruel silent island. Though fueled by lights of fire, and vigilant deadpan eyes, nothing happens on the surface of this place. Lined with outposts and structural anomalies, on the outside, the island looks like a maximum security prison. And while not far from the truth, it's used exclusively by the top brass of the World Government. A playground for them to experience their most vile desires and lusts. Be it the flesh of the captives, or their cruel habits to inflict pain, maybe even testing experiments and diseases. Anything goes. For this, is their land. ⟓
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 21, 2018 7:34 pm
 
𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚁𝚒𝚗𝚣𝚕𝚎𝚛
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
XTotal Stat points: ✪ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ { ✪ } Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ ✪ | ✪ | ✪
XXXI lay there, atop a slab of metal. Contusions riddling my back. An unspeakable hot pain tears at my body from every angle, and a sticky wet lines down the length to the back of my right ankle. Must be bleeding out. But with the beatings we took, something this small could be considered lucky. Though dizzy and unfocused, I try to move my head. Get a better look of wherever the hell we've been whisked off to. Vile machines lines the walls, connected with tubes, wires, and contraptions I couldn't even begin to explain. It's like looking into the future, realizing that simple soldiers like us don't belong here. To my left I see Roma, bound and gagged with rusted metal, coated with the blood and saliva of the short woman. She hangs from some device in the ceiling, dangling and thrashing about, making no advances in freedom. But rather, tearing further into her fragile flesh, spilling more blood with each yank of her desperation.
I've never seen her make a face like this. So fueled with boiling unrestrained indignation. My heart begins pumping faster now. If she's not freed...if that woman is left to her devices, there is no saving this facility. No matter where in the seas of hell we've been dragged, it would come crumbling down at the weight of her vexation. I try to speak, to call out to my foolish partner giving in to her emotions. But my jaw feels restrained. Blocked. Heavy, even. It's a struggle to pry it open, and once I do, once more that monstrous pain overtakes my face. A wince, unable to bear the brunt of the sudden shock. No surprise, since I was just the sniper. It was never my job to take damage. The moment I did, that meant failure in most cases. So for me, suddenly having to endure trials of this caliber is a bit much. Enough so that my eyes faintly black out, as my body convulses and twitches from the assault to my nerves. Despite it, I clench my teeth, blood seeping between each white molar. I can feel it sliding down my bottom lip and left nostril.
What had they done to me? Having no time to ponder this question, the muffled screaming and dancing of Roma's chains calls for my eyes yet again. This time, be it due to the pain, or my finally acclimating to my environment, I can see her a lore more clearly now. The first thing I notice, are tears. Streaming down her face as she looks to me. What I had assumed was rage, turns out to be some strange mixture of concern and fear. Longing. Begging. But why? That's when I hear them. Footsteps. Light, and weak. From the pattern, must be multiple people. Two, three at most I’d wager. Roma’s erratic behavior becomes almost unnatural. Desperate. She cries out, shaking her head from side to side. Out of habit, by head turns, trying to get a better grasp of her concerns. I noticed an older man in a white bloodied cloak. His face is concealed behind various medical masks and devices he’d surely be using for examinations or whatever the hell doctors do these days. By my assumption, I set my mind to a world where he’s just here to keep us healthy so we can be tortured more.
Typical scum government tactic. I knew them well, since on numerous occasions I was tasked with commanding such operations. The usual PO, garbage commands to keep us in line. Check out loyalty and such. But regardless, the doctor can probably be ignored. My head continues to turn, facing the complete opposite of Roma now. I see a beautiful woman of black hair, and divine features. She could be some goddess in disguise and I’d doubt not a single word of it. It’s almost...reassuring, seeing her there. In the pits of my heart, to the bottom of my guts, I know for a fact that for her to be here in this place right here, right now, nothing good could come of it, but something about her just...feels so familiar. She reaches out, placing a hand on my head. It’s gentle. Her skin is so soft, like a velvety bath of milk, softly caressing my dirtied bloody skin at just the rate pace. It’s lovely. A touch I know for true is a first time experience, but it still feels so goddamned familiar.
As I lay there, eyes closed to the pleasure of her flesh, a sharp pain overtakes my body. I jerk and lash out, eyes widened as I try to move. To sit up and grab my right leg. But… I can’t seem to find the strength in my arms. No, no that’s not it. I can’t FEEL my arms. In a panic now, my eyes threatening to spill tears of crimson, I tilt my head up as far as I can make it. The sight tears the last vestiges of hope I had left in enduring this madness. Despite the pain, despite the tearing of my cheeks, I widen my mouth to scream. The stitches hold my ruptured cheeks split one by one, and I could swear my jaw falls from place, loose like a dismantled machine part. But I can’t stop screaming. My arms, and now both my legs, have been completely cut from my body. Clean slices, as if I were a damned pig ready for the dinner table. Roma, unable to hold herself back any further, somehow breaches the seastone binding her mouth through her teeth alone. Shattering the near unbreakable metal with strength fueled by her passion.
Had the situation been different, that would have been a highlight for my day. “PLEASE, DEARIE! I BEG OF YOU! NO MORE! LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE ALREADY DONE TO HIM! PLEASE! PLEASE, IT’S ALL WE HAVE LEFT! DON’T MAKE HIM FORGET ME TOO! I CAN’T DO THIS! NOT AGAIN! I’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!” she screams out, her voice booming down enough to break me out of my hysterical trance. Had I been more aware, I’d have felt even the room shake. The woman, standing by my side, slowly begins caressing her head again. Light giggles the sound of melodic arrangements tickle my rightmost ear. Yet something about it is so unsettling. I try to look at her once more, but a hand keeps me facing straight ahead. Such strength. Whatever it is, it’s behind me, and I’ve been made completely immobile now. I try to stare at the woman from my peripheral, but all that’s permitted to me is the begrudgingly inhuman smile branded across her mug.
A strange almost liquid sensation rushes through my head as I’m forced to stare forth with stretched open eyes. “You have nothing to offer me anymore, Roma. You had your chance, and you blew it.” the woman coos, clearly finding humor in my partners panic. The blue haired prisoner can only shift her eyes too and fro out of fear, only looking back to the beauty after a thought crosses her mind. “I...I know! I can stop them! I can make them stop their attacks! If it’s me, I can do it!” What is she talking about? I wonder them, as my vision slowly fizzles out. Must the the loss of blood. Hadn’t considered that. Whatever is going on here, I’ve been made unaware of it. Caught between the crossfire of these two women. They both go at it, exchanging words back and forth until my consciousness shuts out. At the very last moment, I fade out. Gone. Only one last thing makes it through my ears.
“They won’t kill us for our land! They couldn’t give one single s**t about our resources! You KNOW why they’ve come here! And that, my dear Roma, is because we have their Queen. What do you think will happen to this planet when it’s assaulted by the stars themselves! Fueled by an unchecked fervor. A seething livid focus on the species that dared to cut down, and take their Queen. What kind of monsters do you think they’ll drop down onto this blue sea?! That day?! I cannot wait for it! And you and your precious winged, wannabe heroes won’t be able to do a thing! So sit there and enjoy the show, dear. Know that your purpose for coming here has failed, and the only people you managed to stay around you have all died, because YOU never told them! YOU kept them in the dark! YOU let them all down!” Roma remains there, eyes empty. Her soul clearly broken. Everything she accomplished had been stripped from her in only the smallest of moments.
Her abnormal strength has been made useless. And the only people in the world that truly loved her, have fallen due to her insecurities. Eden’s Dove has fallen. Each member torn assunder, memory broken, and cast away to the furthest ends of the sea. The woman draped in black reaches down, wrapping her hands about the unconscious man’s head, leaning forth as if to kiss it ruined lips, only stopping less than an inch away. She could practically feel the warmth of touched flesh. “Do not worry, my precious meat sack. I will give you a wonderful life, away from this chaos. Away from this war. And once you’ve settled. Once you’ve reached the peak of your falsified joy, please remember this debt, and give me the pleasure of taking it all away.” She whispers, never expecting the man to hear these words. Of course he couldn’t. And, he didn’t. She had taken something valuable from him. More so than his arms and legs. Those would one day be replaced. What she stole, however, simply cannot.
The Government had won this. No doubt about it. A unanimous defeat of absolute perfect. Those broken, bloody wings, no longer even twitching. Those white feathers, forever stained red. Goodbye, oh dear Dove. And goodnight. The bad ending, has only just begun.
Ⓦ Ⓞ Ⓡ Ⓓ Ⓢ: ✪✪✪
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 22, 2018 9:12 pm
𝙳𝚛. 𝙷𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝙶𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚝
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
XTotal Stat points: ✪ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ { ✪ } Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ Ѻ ✪ | ✪ | ✪
XXXDr. Howard Geist, in his final days, spent his time holed within the confines of his labrynthian laboratory deep within the recesses of the prison island, Stillshrine of Alvia. Compiling as much data on the enemy as possible, and watching the country sized prison nation fall before his eyes. Shortly before the complex itself was compromised, Geist created and sent one final transmission upon his Den Den Mushi, reporting his last significant findings.
Eyes only, Triple Q Beta, Log On… Howard Geist. I have lost so much track of time since the outbreak began. I find myself unable to leave the confines of my lab, stupified by the simplicity of man’s downfall. It was because of her. It. The matriarch of that species from the moon. Moon-Sent, the rank and file boys above called them. It seems to posses a unique ability in that it can seemingly communicate within the minds of other species. Animorph, Fishman, wild beasts, Humans. These disseminations come in various forms, often time related to the subconscious domain of imaginations. Our dreams as it were. Some sweet, some violent. Some, like patterned nightmares. Like a sign, or no, a warning of what is to come. A guidepost, stripping from us our frail mental securities. Inducing demands, suggestions, or hallucinations. All meant to break us. To breach within us unhindered.
These nauseating visages were nothing more than a lure. A deception, having us to foolishly believe that we could stop the outbreak. At first we thought we could stop the infection. A few broken pieces of moon here or there, limited to a general aero geographical range. And yet with every chunk we found, there were hundreds more just like it. We never realized. We were so unaware. Arrogantly we watched those that came, dropping down foolishly into our range of suppression, never assuming that there may have been more before them. We were...new. Freshly made aware of these creatures. Far be it from us to have known there were ancestors in hibernation. The creature’s subconscious bait transcended class and political boundaries. We found meteorites damn near everywhere. With each and every new finding, our hope of subduing and exterminating the moon children before they wormed their way into civilian population crumbled resolutely. However, we still considered some form of containment an option. A foolish concept, when I look back to it.
We had not learned our lesson. You see, in studying that girl’s; Dearie Montcroix’s research notes, the matriarch had been in a preserved meditate-like position for a number of weeks. Never moving from her position, making her capture a simple matter. She never resisted, after all. What she realized is that her form would shift ever slightly before another meteorite would fall, as if the motion was a signal. A call, for her brethren to come down from the stars. Each interval lasting nothing short of a week before impact. Using this finding as a baseline, I deduced we had more time before enemy forces would become viable. If we used this to our advantage, promptly and effectively, we could stop the attacks no matter how many were called. I was wrong. Perhaps our greatest blunder was underestimating the sheer instinctual machiavellian of the creatures. We didn’t see the underlying patterns of their advancement processes. The way every facet of their existence was geared towards propagation, and liberation.
The “Moon Soldiers” would arrive at speeds necessary to whatever their matriarch’s survival dictated. We had assumed it was tied to those motions, providing time for the newly hatched soldiers to feed and grow. It was more than that. It was an opportunity for the virus to spread through hosts to other sites. There was this geometric...perfection, to their work. Though confined, the matriarch called upon generals, and with each general came soldiers, and with soldiers came breeding. The civilian authorities were made helpless in the face of this madness. So when the acting Vice Admirals staged their coup, blaming Dearie for her negligence and foolish commands, it almost seemed...welcome. The Government created testing centers where civilians could be checked for signs of Moon-Infected alterations. In the beginning these tests were voluntary. Temporary.
But within mere days, that changed. Vicious rumors spread like wildfire, citing how the Government used these tests to cull the more troublesome business. General infections, disabilities, even so much as the common cold. The poor, the disinfected. Any political rivalries or shade born thoughts, weeded. Our vital services; water, electricity, all began to fail. The country itself was falling apart at the seams. From all of this, I’ve come to understand something saddening about humanity. Man, in its most realistic state, is nothing more than an animal. Driven by animalistic desires and passions. Civilization, is a pathetic charade of manners and deceit, predicated over a tissue thin veil of lies. In the future...if there is a future, historians and archaeologists may blame our failure on some foolish external cause; The Moon-Sent, the World Government, Fate. Yet I know the whole truth. Those creatures outside didn’t destroy us. We did.
[ The sounds of metal scraping, once steel doors being bent. Breached. Hulls tearing and creaking.]
They… They’ll be here soon. Sigh. The World Government has authorized full evacuation of key personnel to other stations, far away from here. Mainly their own precious hides. I’ve chosen to remain behind. Because you see, I made the mistake of seeing these Moon-Sent as mere sentient warriors. But I’ve finally reached the truth above all truths. They are a disease. A cancer. My...child had cancer. Oh how I long for her laughter. How I think about her to this day. In times long gone, you’d apply various things, hoping it would destroy all traces of the foreign anomaly at the source. It sounds so...primitive. But by all standards, there are times when the old ways turn out to be the most effective. Now then. I’ve timed the island’s detonation with the fool’s escape. They think that they can destroy these creatures. Come back stronger, and retake the island. Ignorance. There’s something pathetic about their struggle. My only regret is that I won’t be there to see them try. To see them fail.
I take pride in my pragmatism. I realize that this log is otherwise pointless, and that through the detonation this Den Den will likely not survive. Still, ever there was a time when anyone could see this… Know, that I… I...just…
[ They breach the doors, pouring into the lab from every angle. Ventilation, floor board, torn ceiling panels, the several layered doors and windows. Only seconds before he’s torn asunder.]
...It doesn’t matter. You know, I’ve never actually fired one of these. Click. I feel rather… Foolish.
Bang.
Ⓦ Ⓞ Ⓡ Ⓓ Ⓢ: ✪✪✪
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
