Jagged twisted beams jetted from the skyline like decayed teeth in a diseased jaw. A lone figure standing hillside shifted away as a wind raked over it. The odor it puked upon the earth was sour and burnt anything resembling life. For a moment however short it paused. Much work needed to be done. Now that the humans had destroyed themselves with atom bombs and missiles the crack in hell was sure to split wide open.
Had it a face it might have smiled. Instead of features a formless void bubbled in an oval shaped mass on a pencil thin neck supported by wiry arms and a trunk. Nightmares were its true appearances. It took a step forward. It was more than a step to a mortal eye. No matter, as it was matter itself; shadows and darkness ready to be unleashed.
Devils breed most efficiently. From a heart of pure chaos, their design forged. Did Ancients have hearts? He shook his head. They were not beings of the physical world although they could easily manipulate it and be any physical thing they desired. Their will was never challenged, their powers unlike anything mankind could understand.
As the whistle of the sword raced through the air, shimmering steel glistened. Series of screams filtered in from somewhere behind him. His attention dwindled but returned quickly. He pondered the beauty of a smear of blood along his blade. The thing had already been dead for some time but as his curiosity won him over he poked at its yawning belly with the tip and watched it bury a few inches before he withdrew and gazed at the trail of fluid. It caught his reflection for a moment and in that moment he saw a succession of images flash before his eyes.
YOU ARE READING
The Ancient Chronicles: Short Stories
HorrorA mysterious entity born from chaos breaks free from a hellish womb. The stories within are documents of a other godly race that no mortal can possible begin to fathom. These are the Ancient Chronicles.
