The Shadow's Cry: Timor Unveiled

Prologue

Amber candlelight flickered brightly, highlighting dark gray stone making up the walls. Down a long staircase the lights went, each soft flame illuminating its own section of steps. Before long, the descent transitioned into a mostly flat plane, save for a notable bumpy texture to the hard ground. As rocky ground transitioned into equally-rough walls, the deep grays of the stone were joined by a new, deep crimson color. The unseemly paint made its way up the surface, curving to and fro until it closed itself in a nearly perfect circle, many patterns and runes filling its center.

As if aware of unseen eyes, the diagram lit up with a faint red glow, traveling through its lines like water. At the same time, a faint shadow began to emit from the center of the circle, growing steadily larger and larger. As it filled the space, the shadow began to emerge from the wall, a lone, beady eye emerging from the haze. A long, droning gasp escaped the beast's tooth-filled approximation of a mouth, two arms reaching out from its sides and pushing against the wall. Finally, the beast was free, its lanky form falling the short distance to the ground.

As the monster pulled itself to its feet, another emerged beside it from a similar diagram. In an uneven pattern, shadows emerged from a long row of diagrams, each crawling away from their birthplace and through the wide cavern. One by one they marched, traveling toward a dimly-lit tunnel on the far end of the room. Sunlight peeked through the hole, guiding the wild gazes of the Timor forward.

"Ahh...Is it not beautiful?" A silvery voice echoed through the chamber, sounding from both nowhere and everywhere as its owner stared with his lone eye at the display before him. He held his one gray arm out to the side in presentation, a shadowy appendage emerging from where his other arm used to be, held in the same pose. A manic, yellowed grin filled his visage as he spoke. "I feel almost like a mother, witnessing her many children taking their first steps all at once."

"It's truly horrifying, sir." From just behind the walking corpse, a man whose own visage was disguised by a black-and-white mask looked on. "It's a wonder you were able to keep the loop intact after changing location so suddenly."

"As I've told you before, Vain, the Timor are not linked to the diagram. They are linked to me."

"You make a strong point, sir."

"Indeed. I'm curious, however..." The decaying man turned to greet the third and final person in the room: a man with graying hair, his somewhat portly figure not making up for the fear shown in his eyes. "What do you think of the Gehenna Nexus, Father Frederick?"

The portly, aging man stared on from behind both of them, his vision uneasy as he stood on shaky knees. He swallowed, clearing his throat before speaking. "Never in all my years have I seen something as detestable as this. Johnathan...No, Pitch...Why have you brought me here?"

"Oh, lighten up some, you old coot. I wish only to show off my handiwork!" Pitch turned on his heels and took a few steps closer to the pastor, the air growing cold as he approached. "And trust me, my old friend...You haven't seen anything yet."

Frederick was taken aback, leaning away from the approaching carcass. "What more could you possibly show me?"

Pitch only chuckled to himself in response. "Follow me."

He turned once again on his feet, bones cracking all the way, as he began to make his way towards the crowd of Timor. Vain followed for a moment, only to stop upon realizing that Frederick had stayed behind. With a grunt, he grabbed the pastor's wrist, dragging him forcefully along.

Sweat poured down Frederick's face as he was led through the shadows. Vein-filled eyes all stared at him and him alone, following his every movement with a ravenous hunger. He shivered as he felt one of the creatures breathe down his neck, following closely behind and clacking its teeth together. Vain turned to face the creature, allowing Frederick to observe as blood pooled beneath the horizontal slit in his mask's left eye. As if on cue, the Timor stepped away, allowing the priest a chance to breathe.

As the trio approached a corner in the chamber, Frederick couldn't help but notice what sounded like frantic breathing coming from nearby. He hesitated, still being led along by Vain's firm grasp.

"Behold," Pitch began, once again presenting what lay before him. "My greatest creation!"

Frederick's heart sank to the bottom of his stomach as he was made to witness what lay around the corner. Before him was a wide open cavern, much bigger than the one now behind him, filled to the brim with shadow. The darkness seemed to twitch and move like water, splashing up against the walls. Eyes darted about from along its surface, glancing at nothing in particular yet seeming desperate to escape. Moans and groans escaped from the pile of shadows, stemming from many toothy mouths that covered its form.

"What...in the..." Frederick stepped back, falling back in fear and barely managing to catch himself before his back hit the ground. "What is that thing?!"

"You bear witness to the culmination of years of progress. All I have worked towards, all of the destruction I have brought unto this world, has crested in the form of this glorious monstrosity!"

Frederick was only able to bring himself out of his own stupor for a moment, long enough to look over at the masked man beside him. He could not make out his expressions, but he could tell just by looking that he, too, was in fearful awe of what they were both witnessing. "Why..." The pastor spoke quietly through tears that now formed in his eyes. "Why are you doing this...Why have you caused so many to suffer, Johnathan?"

Pitch turned his head towards Frederick, a newfound animosity filling his one-eyed gaze. He stepped forward, leaning down on one knee and grabbing the priest by the collar, forcing them to lock eyes. "For my vision, Frederick...For my own revelations..."