Dead Man's View ~ 5

     Or he would have been stabbed there, if he a heart.  Having been the first organ to go, DM had changed it with an energy register and had it battery powered for a bit.  Then when he started to run out of battery power, made the water wheel reviver to make his drinking last and, in a way, his mind...
     DM grabbed the spear pole and instantly broke it.  He then was slammed away by what appeared to be a someone in heavy green armor.  Before he could give it a thought, DM threw a punch towards the figure, but was blocked and pushed away again.
     Interesting, thought DM, someone worth remembering fighting.
     The figure's armor was a deep toxic looking green, like a heavy duty gas suit.  Not an inch of skin could be seen under all the green plates and dark mesh like armor.  It's gauntlets held two black spears that gave off a slimy feeling, with at least six more in a carrier on it's back.  Even after being stabbed and breaking one, DM still could 'feel' unclean.
      But the face... The helmet just looked wrong.  Multiple tubes came out from it's mouth and sides, making almost squid like.  The solid head piece had knobs and levers that did something DM guessed to regulate it's breathing or whatever.  And the eyes... were covered in a black tar like substance that couldn't be seen through.  DM thought this was odd.  Even his false eyes had some light in them, almost a bluish fiery look to them.
      The only part that wasn't green or black was gold lettering on it's chest.  On it were the words -

      Merihem

     
      So, this is the 'commanding thing' that DM heard the soldiers spoke of.
      Let's see how well he can fight then.  Thought DM.
      Having throw one of his metal shaving sickles into the now broken door, he only had one now in his hand.  That would have to be enough.  DM charged forward, moving his recently awakened body faster than should have been possible for being mostly made of metal, and threw a punch towards Merihem's center.
      Merihem blocked the punch and countered with another jab from his spear, hitting near the same place as before.  DM grabbed again and pulled it in further to throw another punch towards it's head, but it ducked down to dodge and received a stab with the sickle instead.
     However, the sickle broke easily from the armor and didn't even put a scratch on it.
     DM looked at the broken blade quickly and noticed that the once shiney blade was now dull and rusty looking.  How long had he been asleep?  Or is it an effect from...
     He kicked off the soldier and as he was pulling out the spear, Merihem pulled another spear from his back.
     DM backed away and ponder as he prepared to defend.  His greatest problem wasn't time or it's strength, but it's reach with it's weapons.  DM would already have to repair the damage that happened from the two stabs, but without a way to stop or slow down the strikes, he would definitely have a problem fixing up any more holes in him. 
     "Here!" shouted the girl.
     DM turned and caught his large sledge axe he usually uses for the petrified wood outside his house.  He turned it in his hands and it felt familiar in his grip.
     A little primitive, but it will have to do. 

 

 

To be contined in part 6 ~

 

On a side note, this is really longer than I expected, but I will have to edit these parts later when I finish them.  Part 6 should be out soon.

 

  
 

Dead Man's View ~ 4

     Patience is something you gain with time. And DM has had plenty of time. He stood as still as a statue in the center of the room facing towards the doorway. He just had to wait...
     DM heard the door open up and a scream went through the room. If it wasn't for the fact that it came from somewhere in front of him, he would of thought it was the girl. Good thing he didn't have any lips anymore or he would have cracked a smile.
     "Jesus, man. Calm down." said another voice.
     "I-I-It's theee De-Dead Mmman!! Let's get out of here!"
     "It can't be, that's just an old legend. It's just a statue. Just look for the girl and we can give it that commanding... thing."
     "Aren't you scared? This is the Dead Man's house..."
     "I'm more scared of Merihem. Now move!"

     DM could hear at least four of the soldiers moving around as they looked for the girl, but all he had to do was wait. Just wait.
     He heard footsteps walk around his body. And he waited. Then one of them stopped in front of him. DM twitched his arm to make a 'clink' noise and waited. Then he heard it.
     "What the..."
     DM moved fast and clapped his large metal hands between the soldiers head and placed them just as quickly back. Without opening his eyes, he knew that hurt.
     He heard the the body fall, and more footsteps came close. Good.
     3...2...1...Now.
     DM's eyes opened. And all hell broke loose.

     DM doesn't really think when he fights, he just reacts to the actions of those who attacks him from years of fighting. His stone mind which holds his important memories, current events, and needed deeds, could not hold the memories of what he considered a dull fight.
     From what he remembered, as soon as he opened his eyes, the remaining four soldiers tried to shoot him with pistols, which had no effect, he threw punches, grabbed his sickles and sliced up the guns. More screaming, more blood... Boring stuff.
     "Grab your tin soldiers and get out of my house."
     The soldiers ran away and the room was clear except for DM and the girl. DM went to close the doors behind them so he could talk more to this girl.
     And then the door broke and DM was stabbed in his heart by a spear.



To be continued in part 5-

Wow, this is longer than I thought... I'll keep on going.

Dead Man's View ~ 3

     The girl with looked like she was just over twenty years old.  With her lite green shirt and short cut jeans that were torn from wear she looked tired and dirty.  DM looked at her for a bit and asked her again.
     “What are you doing in my house?”
       His brain felt tired and it had felt as if it was only working on a little energy.  DM's eyes shown on the bottle in his hand for a long time before the sockets of his eyes turned black.  As if it was a ritual of sorts, he placed the bottles top a little ways from his teeth and a sort of an electronic hum came from wherever he used to speak from.  He opened his jaw and in one swift movement, lifted the bottle above his head and poured all of the dark red content into his mouth.

     Luckily, thought DM, I can't taste it.  Who knows how long this bottle has been in my hand and open to the elements.  If that girl hadn't come by... I need a few more drinks.
     DM changed the bottles and poured the liquid down his throat again, even though he couldn't taste the drink anymore, he felt some memory of what wine tasted.  He felt a tingle near his center and a shock of electricity jumped his brain to full power.  The girl jumped at the sudden flash and started to look at the doorway.  She hesitated at first, still in a surprised shock at what she was looking at, but then she spoke.   "I... we... they chased us into here.  I don't know..."
     "They?"
     "Those soldiers.  They got my friend and now they're chasing me."
     DM dimmed his eye lights and took a closer look at her face.  She was kinda pretty for such a young girl, but he didn't see anything that made him think that she was some sort of criminal.  She didn't even have any shoes... "What did you do for them to chase you?"
     She look scared and confused.  "I don't know... I'm just trying to get home."
     Home?  Thought DM.  How can she be wanting home?  Is she from the Silver City?  But no one calls that 'home'.  Unless...
     He looked down again at her feet and saw it.  Barely within the light, was her shadow.  She still had her shadow in the Shadow Lands.
     Interesting.
     "For you helping me, I will repay my debt.  Hide and keep quiet."

     She didn't move at first, shocked at what he said.  But when he started moving to the center of the room she ran to the far corner.  He emptied another bottle as he got to the center and as soon as the surge finished, he turned off his eyes and waited in stillness.

     "I'll show you how you deal with tin soldiers."

    To continue in part 4.

Once upon a time and place, there was this legend...
There was a man afraid of death
And he thought that if he could try to stop it
He would have to fight it death.
So he put on armor to protect himself from harm
And learned how to fight for that day to come.
And nothing happened.
Years passed and his body started to fail,
So he changed his failing parts to mechanical.
And nothing happened.
Years more his brains started to fail,
So he wrote his mind on stone never to forget.
And nothing happened.
Years later, all that could be gone was gone.
His flesh, his organs, his senses, his mind...
But a mechanical skeleton still lived.
And nothing happened.
And then he realized death wasn't coming anymore,
And he was left alone.
No friend to comfort from his hard journey...
Because they had died.
No reward for life...
No life was spent
No love...
Only preparing for death.
He longed for death now
And could never fully achieve it.
The Dead Man he became

Longing for an end to the waiting.

After DM heard this legend, he replied-
   "Legends are only a fraction of the truth.  And death is the biggest legend of them all."

Dead Man's View ~2

Short story part 2~

     Dead Man contemplated as he walked down the road.  Having lost his shadow soon after he woke up in this world, the creatures of the eternal night didn't bother to attack him, giving him nothing to worry about as he strolled down the Black Road.
     The only problem was time.
     Without any light or sun rise, there is no way to accurately measure time in the Shadow lands.  After every sixty steps DM would have to take a swig from his drink.  Around the tenth drink he would have to change out the bottle where his stomach used to be and start drinking from that bottle.  After having done this for so many years of his 'life', he did this without much though.
     His thoughts dealt with a single image.  A face and body.  Something from a far dream...
     Minutes pass, and then hours.  How many passed are unknown since DM didn't count.
     The thought had to be kept.    

     After canyons and petrified trees, DM finally reach the doors to his large mansion made from rock and brick.  He pushed through and walked by his paintings, shelves of bottles, and continued down towards forge.  The fire in the forge still had some heat from days ago and he threw in some logs to start it up again.  After pumping the bellows to where he wanted the heat to be, he grabbed a cupful of broken glass he kept nearby in a pot and dropped them in a metal pot.
     Time passed.  Only the image was within his grasp.  Just heat the glass more in this area...
     Then it was done.
     The glass cooled and figure was finished.  Once again it was a female figure dancing.  The face was smoothed out just like the rest, but the pose was different than the others he had done.  He placed it to the side and looked at it for a bit.
     Why did he do these glass sculptures?  Maybe a hobby at first, but was there a reason?  He didn't understand either.  Just dreams within the darkness of...
     How long did he take a drink?  Where was his bottle!?
     He started rushed to the other side where he placed the figure but he started to slow down.  He looked at the tools he was using for the familiar shape of the glass bottle and found it next to the corner.  As he grabbed the bottle, he could feel parts of him slowing to a stop.  He lifted the bottle to his teeth...
     And the cold took him again.   

     Time isn't real.  What passes in death?  And where does the dream begin or end?

     DM woke up again with an empty bottle.  Something was different.  Dust covered him and his surroundings.  Noises outside the forge were sounding threatening.  And there was the girl in front of him.  The girl looking at him with horror.  The girl with a familiar face...
     

“What are you doing in my house?”

 To be continued in part 3.

Dead Man's View ~1

Short Story time ~

     "Good fight again, Dead Man. At least you left some survivors this time..." The bookie gave away a bag of coins with a regretful look. "Please don't come back anytime soon."
     The bag barely fit into the mechanical hands of the Dead Man. Standing large with metal plates covering most of his body and having most of his organs destroyed by time, with only some bones and wires exposed to see, his face never registered anything the other person said... mostly because he didn't have any skin to make an expression... except for the fiery bluish optical devices inside the large white skull dimming.  DM pulled a bottle from his side and walked away without another word.
     With a swig of tar like wine, he walked away from the Wrath's Coliseum and down towards the center of town.  People saw him and quickly moved away to make sure they were not nearby him.  Some even screamed and fainted as he walked by.  Whispers rose up and talked of the myths that have been told of this Dead Man.  Of how he defeated Death and how he bows to no one...
    But DM was just walking back home and thinking of a project to work on.
    While smashing a warriors spine in the Coliseum, he was suddenly flashed with an idea of inspiration again.  A figure of pure art.  All he had to do was keep the memory fresh.
     He took a small swig from his bottle again.  He pushed back his want to just down the whole bottle this time for the slight chance that an overcharge from his water wheel may cause him to loose the thought.  Time was an issue.  How long was it going to be before he could make it to home?
     The Dead Man made it to the Black Road and left the city to begin his journey back.

Next part soon.  It's 3:15am.
  
      



  "Don`t do it. I know you aren`t like this. You gave up everything for a stupid idea and you lost it all before you could reach it. And you did it because of me. Or with me...  I know you can be kinda dumb sometimes, and you can be hard to follow. But I'll be there with you. You can surpass this. Be stronger than this. I'm here." Sophie

Writing things~

It's weird while writing that I am getting ideas for 2 different stories at the same time. 

On one side I'm working on a part where the Traveler is seeing the 4 main characters of G.  Having just met Guile (the brains and sniper of the group), I'm working on the meeting of Surive and Sara.  Surive (who is described by the Traveler as a large stone-like man in black with a large fresh looking scar across his face) is sharpening his scythe blade (which makes no sence to the Traveler because it is heavily rusted).  the Traveler looks at Surive and in a brief instance sees something else...  A mechanical version of Death adjusting his laser scythe... and then back to normal.
Sara is doing her morning exercises and praticing her elemental control...

On the other side, Scare is having his last cigarette while facing the Wild Witch and her Army of Shadows.  Nul and DM have fallen and he asks the Witch one last smoke before he dies.  Thinking that nothing else can stop her, she allows the time and talks to the patchwork  smoking man.
She asks why would an idiot die for Sophie?
His response?... Cause she has hope.

"You think this place is Hell? Have you read The Divine Comedy? In it, Dante travels through the three levels of the afterlife. The first is Hell, then Purgatory. There they are tortured horribly until they change their ways and `hopefully` after time be accepted into Heaven. I find that much worse than Hell, because they can hope for a slim chance into paradise. The Shadowlands are full of hope in all this despare. Now hope doesn't have to be a bad thing, but it's painful to have sometimes. Luckily for me, if in Hell or not, I don't mind pain so much."
~ Scare

Hope is for idiots... and Scare is a full on idiot.


So yeah...  back and forth, back and forth...  And wanting to paint and talk to some people... sigh... 
Sleep time.