Angel Wings and Ghostly Silhouettes

[Shirosaki]

Angel Wings and Ghostly Silhouettes

This is the index post, and will have links to all chapters.

The Hybrid (Prologue)

Chapter 1 - Ascendance of the Fallen

Chapter 2 - Ashes to Fiery Ashes

The story will be updated with new chapters quite regularly.

 

[Shirosaki]

Re: Angel Wings and Ghostly Silhouettes

They called him the demon scholar, a paradox of a being. He always wore half dyed clothes, dividing his personality in the great contrasts of black and white. His body complexion was greatly admired at the time, although it was never understood how a person could maintain a halo perching on a pair of curled horns.

His aura was a nexus of confusion; chilling the bones but at the same time maintaining a great amount of respect. Of course, he only ever used the crucible for his main objectives in life; killing and observing.

Sure, a legend that he was, he lived a very confusing life, and one that any philosopher such as myself could ever completely understand. Really, how could one ever thirst for the blood of an oncoming enemy, and calmly strike them down with such a grace, just to return to their study to write about the day's efforts. Some curse his corpse as a brutish creation, others say that he was an artist and agent of God.

His downfall, so to speak, was an ironic tragedy. A halo and horns maybe, but an extremist is never completely satisfied. The man actually grew angel wings and the tail of a devil, however the mutation was premature; in a fight against the Hobbes, the legendary challenger took flight and mocked the Hobbes from above the pit in the middle of the arena. A martyr Hobbe jumped at the man, as did many before it. However, the demon shot the Hobbe between the eyes. A through and through, apparently.

The bullet hit the powder keg on it's back and exploded. It knocked the creature off balance, and his premature wings gave way. Irony, it seems, delivered the 'hero' to his fate. Once as high as God and his angels themselves, the figure descended into an eternal pit of darkness. His body was never recovered; although a single blemished and singed feather laid at the edge of the pit. It is now framed in the crucible trophy room, marked with the two words that imprint the owner's identity on history itself; 'The Hybrid.'

The moral of the story is to never trust one's self completely, hone what can be honed, love what can be loved, and never let status go to one's head. And certainly, don't let the grasps of insanity clutch you, for you will descend into that pit, and you shall suffer your wrongs tenfold for an eternity.

Now then, Markus, Eve, go to sleep, and don't let the bed bugs bite.

 

[Shirosaki]

Re: Angel Wings and Ghostly Silhouettes

It all started when Vaneius uttered the incantation. We thought it was just a joke. He was a will user, and we found a book by a rock on the beach at Westcliffe, full of weird words that he thought was a spell.

There, on that beach, history rewrote itself, denying the plaque on the wall, exactly 200 yards to the east, sitting in the crucible trophy room any validity. That day, we unleashed him.

There was a shining red pentagram on the beach where we had drawn a dull one, which drew air in causing myself and Vaneius to lose breath, and a fissure erupted around the perimeter.

It drew Vaneius in, as he was closest. A body for a body, you see. I could hear his screams through my own, and the gusting wind. I closed my eyes through fear, and it was soon over.

When I dared to open my eyes, a naked figure materialized in front of me, with wings of an angelic quality, a tail of devilish form and a dull halo perched on a pair of crooked horns, glowing against the illuminated sea.

I was paralyzed with fear by now, and the figure landed softly on the ground. It walked towards me, with a red light in its eyes. I was a dead man. I felt a piercing in my heart. Perhaps a psychic power? No. It walked right past me, and its wing tips crept across my cheeks as it passed. I felt blood trickle down my cheeks where the feather touched me. I was alive though, barely.

I had a heart attack there, at the rebirth of The Hybrid. I was recovered and saved by an alchemist hours after.

I told my story to whoever would listen, and healed slowly, bed-ridden. Seven months later, I am training with a secret sect to track down, hunt, and kill the monster that emerged from that pit.

Not a word came over the time I healed, or trained about The Hybrid. It appears the crucible was no longer it's interest, as I learnt in my studies of it. Although, there have been sightings of a winged creature circling the spire from time to time. The people were all detained as mad, and sentenced to death. Something's not right. And I'm going to get down to the bottom of this. My name is Gil.

 

[Shirosaki]

Re: Angel Wings and Ghostly Silhouettes

I woke up and sent a buckshot through the barn roof. The cockrel had woken me up. I sleep with my blunderbuss beside me nowadays. As a result, Liara woke up with a start. It was lucky she was holding a knife and not a gun, or she would've taken my head off.

We'd been camping out in a barn in Oakfield. I met Liara in an inn a mile or two from the bandit coast. She showed interest in me and knew a lot about my cause. I couldn't refuse her, she was a master of skill and had defeated the crucible three times before I even attempted it.

When we left the barn, the cockrel was lying on the ground in a pool of blood. My shot was getting better. We were in Oakfield because she had a lead from a source saying that there have been sightings of The Hybrid near a small village towards the coast of Oakfield.

It was a quiet day, and a peaceful walk through the country took up most of our time. As we approached the village, smoke was rising into the air from a house on the very edge of a cluster of buildings. We ran about a hundred yards until we could make out clearly what was happening.

Villagers were running and screaming, some were looting from the local shops, and the smoke it seemed was the residue of a great blaze. Pandamoneum had insued.

We rushed towards the inferno, which had just jumped over a garden with the wind and set another house on fire by the roof. I had learnt a little bit of will since that time, it appears I had absorbed some of the ritual's corrupt power.

Liara waited outside and tried to settle down the villagers. It looked like she had a harder task than me; she was a small woman of about 26, and looked like she could be knocked down by a gust of wind. She used a flintlock pistol with a customized piece on top, almost like a telescopic sight, and a small dagger in a sheath near her shin incase of any close encounters.

I on the other hand, walked into the flames with a minor forcefield around me, repelling the tendrils of fire. I could feel the heat licking at my skin, desperately trying to burn me. I felt a dark aura about the fire, and ran inside. A horrible scene met my eyes: dead bodies covered in blood lay about on the floor, waiting to be claimed by the blaze. There was a body trail towards a staircase, which I took at speed.

A horrible sight met my eyes once I had transcended up the stairs. I heard a shriek unlike anything human, and a slender figure wrapped in a black cloak stood by a large broken window. It turned it's head to me. I didn't know what was more scared. It's face was covered in a black material, almost like a ghoul of sorts. The outline of a wide mouth was all I could make out, and it's screaming pierced my eardrums.

A boney hand stretched forward, creaking as it gripped the window. The fingers of the hand, awfully disfigured as if it had been hit by shrapnel, slowly gripped the edge of the window. We both looked at each other for a second, and a creak came from downstairs. Liara was coming up. The Hybrid, the thing I had been searching for for three years, flew out of the window at such a speed. I felt the air being sucked out of the room, as it had from my surroundings at the day of the ritual, and a single, singed feather landed on the floor by a particular body belonging to a monk.

I ran to the window and looked down, the cloak had ripped at the back of it, and two skeletal wings had emerged, and started to flap in the gusting wind. The figure rose up, and a tail emerged from the hem of the cloak. The halo a murky black, it sat on the bulky, long horns on The Hybrid's head. I could only watch, frozen by fear, as did Liara, helpless.

The Hybrid had relinquished it's "good, pure" features, which had mutated into corruption. Chaos had manifested within The Hybrid's body and delivered it into a new phase of darkness and mystery. I collapsed on the floor as it disappeared into the distance. After three years of searching, I had lost it. It was pointless. Liara had fainted. Darkness was all I could see now. I was so angry. I felt myself reaching out for the feather. I held it close to my chest. I dont know why, it just felt natural. I had never died before. It felt kind of strange.

I passed out there, in the burning house; the flaming library. As I layed there unconcious, a man came out of the shadows towards us. He had a look in his eye, as he creeped out from behind a bookshelf. If I was awake, I guess I would have feared for the worst.