Fury Dear Child, Mine and Mine Alone

In A Time Since Passed

  The pillars stood high among his palace's other soiled ruins.  Many of them still sparkled with untarnished marble on their splintered tops.  Outside of that, a light film of volcanic dust coated everything, including me.  Smoldering piles of ash were all that remained of the few men who had still stood at his side.  Regrettably, the honor of razing this monument of madness had actually been given to it's creator, who's sudden outrage had leveled both his throne and many of his brothers in the process.

  The sky was a milky pale with a hue of pink scattered from a distant fiery dawn.  Contrary to it's appearance though, it tasted more of singed meat and smog.  Utterly repugnant.  

  From the shadows erupted an uncountable number of shrouded creatures that struck like lightning.  Probably most had been of the royal guards that had been rebuilt from the darkness that the emperor had unleashed.  Human in few aspects, much like me, but still far from my kindred.  Pathetic imitations of us, and insulting to say the least.  My hand swept to the leather holster at my side, gripping the jet of nickel plating that emerged.

  Fire swept around me with a recoil shock that threw me back and away from danger.  The cloak billowed outwards into a black tunnel from which I could only view the abominations in all their putrid glory.

  Warcries of animal violence were exchanged between us and the hail of fire and flesh.  Sickly arachnid like, multi eyed mutations braced against the spit that I had forced them into.  Most of them exploded into blues and blacks when the core of their dark strength was struck.

  A click reminded me that I possessed limits to my ammo.  With a twirl, the ten-shooter's, cylinder snapped out and I replaced the glowing slots with fresh golden rounds.

  I was suddenly struck by a bear like entity that had led the pack's attack.  His impact had slammed me to the floor and knocked the revolver from my hands.  But I needed not the weapon alone to fight.

  From my satchel I tore the feather pen that I had always used, and struck across the drooling monster with a line of ink.  His torso separated from his other half and in a spurt of blood, slid left.

  I bounced up and back, snapping my pistol back,  firing on an encroaching spider-man.  I would not be stopped now, and in this maelstorm none the less.  I found myself spinning in a dance, my pen at one hand and silver gun at the other.  Bodies fell for minutes in my twisting, splintering into clean puzzle pieces that would never again be rendered whole.

  "It seems my father was correct; my army would never bring you down, traitor scribe."

  Azzirth!

  "Face me once-master, and let this battle be decided!"

  A harsh laugh taunted me from the epicenter of the destroyed palace.

  "You shall have your chance, oh poet of blood!  Your desire for carnage could not be quelled by simple words, thus you dreamt to bring the whole world to it's doom."

  Anger took me, and I was on my way, ignoring the minor strikes and scratches the guards inflicted.

  "Very well winged serpent.  Let me test three thousand years of deceitful scales."

  

The End

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