The Moratorium

Prologue

From the low arch of a musty corridor, there came a looming figure who stole past the entryway and strode swiftly towards the bar. It was a decrepit structure, nailed into the floorboards and tucked beneath the haze of dated light fixtures, but it gave character to an otherwise dank and soulless ambiance. Surrounding the bar-top were a line of plush stools among tables and small booths bordering the outskirts. Each piece stood illuminated by a small stump of candle wax that burned heavy and sickeningly sweet.

At a table mere feet away, there sat a bent patron streaked with grey. His jowls hung loosely, and his hands were sprayed with liver spots. Though his face appeared as aged as the room itself, he had a spark of vitality about him.

"You reek terribly," The old man sputtered and took a swig of his drink, the warmth of alcohol tickling his veins. It ebbed its way down the periphery of his spine and eased the pressure that clawed at his vision.

"And so what if I do?" It was a flaxen haired lad who challenged him, standing not much over six feet. His gold complexion shone brilliantly against the presiding gloom as shadows threatened weak, candlelit flame. Strength rolled off his back, broad and well made, yet even as he spoke with power and assuredness, his hand proved quivering and shaky.

In its reach for the glass on the counter-top, it clamored and knocked about. A disorderly grab for poor sustenance which slopped against his lips, burning.

"You're a mess and a disgrace, Avenocchi." The grizzled man went on, though he himself could barely hold his own. "And it shows with your unchaste deviling. The least you could do is clean up." He gestured towards the tunnels that preceded the archway - a maze of chambers for unholy transgressions.

The young man bristled but said nothing, wolfing down more of his fizzing drink. Streams of it drizzled from his lips and clung beneath his chin. His necktie hung loosely about his undone collar which appeared frayed around the button placket. A disheveled mess complete with tattered slacks clashing obnoxiously with the polished atmosphere. Much to the old man's dismay, Avenocchi cocked his head with a stifling arrogance, sparking a heightened rage that boiled deep in his varicose veins.

Eventually, Avenocchi spoke, his tone cool and venom-laced, "My affairs are anything but licentious. Just an exchange of kind words in secret. Regardless, it is none of your business. So please, spare me the pain of your abhorrence."

"None of this is my business?? When I was your age, I was not making it my mission to damn all in my wake!"

Avenocchi cut the withered's judgment short. "Shut it, old man. I will not be lectured by some septuagenarian who knows nothing of my true intentions. You're bitter, I suppose. And that bitterness mistreats you. But I will not catch the brunt of your pathetic plight. I don't even know you. Nor do I care to entertain you."

The crumpled man's gaze softened. "Avenocchi, its me, Nolan. I just don't want you to become your own undoing. Please, Avenocchi. Let me help you." A glint of blue penetrated the milkiness of his clouded orbs. A lift in the gale brewing on his iris.

Avenocchi growled, viciously and threw his glass violently into the wall. "You can't manipulate my thoughts the way you manipulated me before!"

"You're not making sense, Avenocchi..." Nolan began, as disbelief and terror began to choke his speech.

"I know it's you, Dorian. For the last time, get out of my head!"

An eminent darkness took residence in the room, saturating the walls til they grew shapeless and void.

"Avenocchi...my lad, listen.... you mustn't endanger anyone anymore. You're a beastly creature that needs to be put in its proper cage."

"Enough!" Avenocchi roared, and the sound of crumbling cement followed. The darkness about him began to propagate swifter and with more vigor, swallowing what little light had been used to highlight his antagonizer's sloping features. The boy's eyes glowed luminous with fury, as they trained their intensity upon the sagging flesh of the old man. Within seconds, Nolan's look of terror stretched into an expression unreadable that reached the lacquered table and then fell to the floor. His eye sockets sizzled and steamed as they corroded it's spongy contents, to reveal a blackness that hollowed his skull.

There was a blood curdling scream, as all the man's flesh was ravaged and eaten so that all that remained was cursed bone.

An ill humming began that reverberated about the walls and finished the ungodly procession devouring his soul.

The air hardened and solidified then fissured with supernatural accord, cutting the very air, suspending all rational order, along with the notable progression of time. The fractals separated, then broke, then spontaneously disintegrated to reveal a tall figure with tousled waves and a cerulean gaze. The previous room had disappeared entirely to reveal one of much grandeur and magnificent decorum.

" Dorian Hess..." Avenocchi spat. The name tasted vile on his tongue.

"Ahhh," Dorian grinned with overwhelming condescension. " If it isn't Finaeus Charles Avenocchi, Hell's spawn incarnated."