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Blade: Primal Ch. 2
By Powerhouse
For some odd reason, Ch. 1 went down a bit quietly. Hopefully this one grabs some more attention.
*note: reading chapter one first will help you better understand this, but you can read this and enjoy it easily anyway
Dust swirrled around the scorched earth of the Syrian Desert. In the air, a helicopter was circling a flatened area of the dunes. Slowly, the helicopter descended towards the grey sand. With ease, the legs rested onto the ground. The blades spun more slowly and the roar lessened until the engine was finally cut off.
A door on the front end, near the cockpit, swung open. The pilot climbed out and scrambled for the main sliding door. Clumsily, he opened it, pinching his own fingers in the process. Blood dripped from a small wound on his finger. If the pilot was a vampire, he could watch as the gap in his skin closed before his eyes, but he was just a normal human, driven by the hope that some day, after dedicated service, he would be turned. Until then, he was a glorified errand boy, held in slightly higher regards because of his talent of piloting.
From the open door, two hooded figures stepped out. Their long, black robes sheilded them from the blowing sand. One after another, they lifted their hoods from their faces. In a language the pilot couldn't understand, they discussed the area they landed in.
The pilot spoke. "If you please, sirs, the wind is picking up and I would like to take off before nightfall. It would be dangerous otherwise."
The men laughed at each other. One of them replied, " Of course, we wouldn't want anything unfortunate to happen." He paused. "Now, do you have the map we need?'
"Yes sir."
"Good, how far is the entrance?"
The pilot pulled the map from his coat pocket. "Actually, we needn't go anywhere. Its right here." He took a few steps to the side bent down. With his hand he wiped the sand away, revealing a sinlge, door-sized metal panel. On the side of the panel he dug sand from a flat latch and he pulled the latch. Oddly, nothing moved. He pulled harder, with both hands, still nothing. The pilot stood up, took a squat position, grabbed the latch, and pulled. The panel didn't budge.
"Excuse me," The hooded figure said. The pilot stepped aside and the hooded man grabbed the latch with one hand and with superhuman strength, he ripped the panel off with a single tug. He turned, smiled at the pilot and said "who opens your ketchup bottles?"
From the surface, a flight of stairs led down out of view. " The moment has come, Milo," the first hooded figure said. "Our race will finally reign supreme without the need to hide."
"And these two vials are the key to it all, Pietro," Milo responded, holding two small vials in his hand."
All three of them walked down the staircase into the darkness.
After a few minutes of walking without being able to see, the staircase led to a vast stone room, the size of a gymnasium. Visibility was very low. The only light came from a small pit in the center of the room. The threesome walked over to the pit and looked down. At the bottom, a bright beam of light lit the pit and the surrounding area.
The pilot was becoming uneasy. He knew that vampires had many weird rituals, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy being in a dark room a hundred feet below the surface. " So, what are we here for?" he asked shakily.
For a moment, Milo and Pietro ignored him. They took the two vials, opened them, and tossed them in. In the unaudible language the pilot had heard before, they began to chant. The chanting was rhythmic and they were repeating it, each time becoming louder. " Arhe Arah la Magra ehsa! Arhe Arah la Marga ehsa!Arhe Arah la Magra ehsa!" Abruptly they stopped.
Pietro turned to the pilot. He put his arm around the pilots shoulders. "Well, we are bringing the vampire society to its finest moment!" He paused. "And you, my friend, are playing a big part."
"What do I..." the pilot couldn't finish. Pietro lifted him by the back of his collar and threw him down into the pit.
The pilot screamed all the way to the bottom. He hit the bottom with great force, but somehow, he was alive. He was terrified. Two men he trusted just threw him into a forty foot deep pit. He scream as loud as he could for help. The two figures at the mouth of the pit simply stared at him. The pilot began clawing at the walls of the pit, trying deserately to climb up. He slid back to the floor, laying there crying.
The pilot felt an odd warmth on the floor. He put his face to the floor, feeling the heat. It was getting hotter. The floor began to glow red. He stood up and scrambled back up the wall. He only got a few feet up the side before he slid back down. This time, when he hit the bottom, it gave a little. It was no longer solid. He felt the floor again. It seemed to pulse, like it was, alive.
Before he could do anything to respond, the pilot was sinking into the ground. He became paralyzed. He went blind. He could no longer think. He just sank out of view beneath the pit.
Milo an Pietro looked down from the rim of the pit as the pilot dissapeared.
"It has begun," Milo whispered.
The room shook and became illuminated, revealing a number of glyphs written on the walls. Blue-white light shot from the pit. Smoke filled the room. Beams of electricity jumped from wall to wall. Torrent winds came from nowhere and threw Milo and Pietro back against the wall.
The room became dark.
After a few minutes of darkness, the soft light from the pit relit the room again. Milo and Pietro stood up, dazed. Cautiously they walked over to the pit. Smoke puffed from the mouth of the pit. Then, amazingly, a single hand grasped the edge of the pit from inside. From the pit, someone climbed out. He stood there, in the pilots outfit, but he wasn't the pilot at all.
The man's brown hair covered his eyes. He stared at the ground, clenching his fists.
"Deacon..." Pietro gasped.
The man looked up at the other two and smile. "I'm back."
Thanks for reading, and please give comments.
7/17/2002 2:56:40 PM
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