Meridian what, now?
Story temporarily on Hiatus and the story name has officially been changed from Meridianto 'Every Demon Bleeds Black'. The first few chapters are beign retooled/edited (approx 1-3 are being edited for easier readability and some of the other chapters are going to be edited to be easier to read). Chapter 17 is on its way, so everyone please hang tight. I've had lots of schoolwork to do and my original story is eating at my with ideas/inspiration, plus I just haven't had the time to regularly work on my writing, as I have to get ready to go to Europe next week for a school trip.

- Wish me luck, and if I don't update by the end of april, something has gone horribly, horribly wrong.


Of Wolf and Man
Pride-Fall


‘I hunt, therefore, I am.’
--
Of Wolf and Man, Metallica

I was a creature before I could stand.’
-- Before I Forget, Slipknot


In day, he sleeps.

He wakes. He trains. He eats. His body moves of its own accord through daily rituals long-lost of meaning or purpose. He cannot see; cannot wake. The world is a wild, obscured vagary; a place in which time passes by with languid ease and the dull lights and sounds of everything around him whirl and whorl like an ephemeral, chaotic spiral to which there is no definition.

He is blind, but refuses to see it as such.

In night, the beast rises.

The prey’s feet crunch and crack the undergrowth beneath him. The sound echoes horrifically -- all too loud, all too sudden. Everywhere, the darkness abandons him; treats him not as a comrade should while lying at his feet like mangy dogs, on his back like a wheel of stone, and around his neck like a noose of wire.

He is silent, and quiet, and afraid. The fear fuels the fire and the shadow of doubt grows, flares, and blazes with the pieces of his flesh the shadows steal and use to paint the leaves bloody, bloody red.

This man is not the hunter, not the warrior who is blind. He is the prey-beast cornered and trapped and hunted by the larger, more efficient beast.

Sweat dribbles down from his forehead. There is a blade at his neck that replaces his self-made noose, and a claw at his spine that has taken the weight of insecurity away from him, and the beast who wears the skin of man smiles as he says with a voice that crackles like a thousand burning, flickering infernos: “If you had kept downwind, if you had been more unique, I wouldn’t have won.”

The thought is disquieting, yet, it is an honorable death that the beast gives the man -- clean; precise; morbidly efficient as the blade enters his neck from behind and slices his Adam’s apple cleanly in two.

When he falls, sputtering to the ground, he watches the truer hunter clean his katana on a leaf and walk off into the gloom. As he dies, he thinks the thing that killed him more damned in life than he himself will ever be in death.

In dreams, he wakes

When the hunter sleeps, he smiles a smile that no one can see. They think he is free; yet, in his mind, he is a prisoner -- is trapped inside a vast, limitless maze without end, or walls, or distinction. In his dreams, he is steepled in blood, and death, and battle. From the cradle, he is a sacrifice to the war machine, and to the grave, his life shall be a battle -- a battle for peace, for hope, for life, for sanity.

He wades through the morass swamp of reds and vermilions that cling to his skin and stain him, his shirt, his shoes, his soul, and there is a beast around him, threading through the waters.

The beast is known as memory.

Faces of comrades long dead or lover’s long last float to the surface as he walks, and they haunt him -- screaming his name or asking him why he was not fast enough, why he was not good enough to save them.

He runs to get away from the red, from the pain, from the memories. When he cannot run any longer, when reds have flecked his face and the pain of the past crushes his shoulders, his spine, his heart, he falls, hard and fast, and the sound of his screams echo in the red-tinged landscape like a cry for freedom or absolution.

At the epicenter of this maze, there is a beast. It hears him clearly. When it walks, the waters churn and scream a staccato blast of sound at its feet and the air glimmers and dances like crystalline phantoms locked in ethereal dance.

The beast is hunting him, and grinds out his name through a screen of sabers and a blast of hot, senescent breath that rises like miasma to the sky and spreads throughout his mind; devouring thought, melting humanity, consuming his soul. Its claws drip putrescence, and it’s tails flicker back and forth like candy-apple dipped banners in the wind as it sinks its jagged, blackened claws into his soft, weak mind.

He does not know why escaping the beast is important, but when it nears, old wounds rip open and his blood splashes down onto a catwalk of crimson he can feel, and follow, but cannot see. It terrifies him, but as its jaw closes around his throat and he wakes up screaming, he realizes something.

The beast has no name.


:Yes, this is utterly leeeched crapped. I blame you, Chev.: