Immortal

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This story is about a warrior who is given immortality and complete control. this is a narrative through his eyes, hoe you enjoy.

Submitted: September 19, 2013

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Submitted: September 19, 2013

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Sand and dirt fill my lungs, and I struggle to stay alive. I can feel my existence slipping away into a tangent universe. -I will not allow this to happen. To my feet I arise and my opponent can't seem to believe what his eyes. A strange feeling grips me, as if I was reborn. I spit the metallic taste from my mouth and my eyes open wide. My newly refreshed lungs inhale and at the blink of an eye, the fight is won. Only the sound of his head rolling across the floor and the crowd cheering in my favor ring out. My robes of glory and might glow brightly as though my soul is illuminating the bloodstained arena. Even after the win I feel exhilarated, like it was the first victory of my life. My perspective on things is changing with every step I take, knowing I'm immortal.

Decades pass and millions die, I am the very punishment they deserve. The mortal blood-sport has made me a God among men, and the biggest celebrity the universe has ever known. My concept of reality has grown vastly beyond our mother Earth and into the deepness of space. With hours of meditation I coerce myself to understand the stars, to read the night sky like my manuscript. Nightmares clog my virtually sleepless nights coupled with rigorous physical daily training. I am falling apart, but my dream is creeping quietly to it's conclusion. My family has died in front of my face, from my loving wife to my great great granddaughter, to me being only one on earth with my last name. I will understand. I know it.

My life was hell bent on ascension and enlightenment. Every step felt closer and closer to perfection, closer and closer to satisfaction. No one is my contest anymore, my mind alone can kill a man where he stands. A thirst has made me devour my prey, as they line up to fight, one by one. Each one making me stronger than before, it's unreal. Women and men beg for my presence, children cry my name in the streets, but no one dares to reach out. Like the saying goes, “If you can't beat em, join em” and they joined me. My followers offer me a pedestal, a throne and an alter. It looks like my ascension has begun, the stars are enlightening me by night and ghastly voices leading me by day.

Hateful thoughts occur more rapidly now, unexplainable influences are the force behind my power. My intentions are vile, my desires have shifted, and I feel like a monster. I pray for battle, I can't live devoid of challenge, it's meaningless. My samurai training has faded entirely, nobility and honor are but a memory, I would rather kill with the chopsticks I eat with. I enslave everyone who disobeys my laws, and as for a rebellion, one has never grown past a notion. I have complete control, orgasmic sensations flicker from my fingertips and drip to the ground. My mindless followers look in envy, as the liquid hate puddles in the rocks, never thinking twice, never asking another question.

Paralyzing diseases will plague my enemies lands, obelisks of salt will litter their fields, and fire will rain over their homes. From my throne I cast down mutations of men, creations made from my necrotic magic. Their support will bring a new era of decadence and lust, surrounding me now is an army and an aura, my longing for more power. How could I crave more? How could things not satisfy my yearning... With the world at my feet, and with nowhere else to go, I find myself reverting to meditation. Reading more into the astrological dialect, for my path has forked in twine, and I am faced with a decision. Peace and prosperity or chaos and bedlam. My minions mean nothing, humanity's fragile emotions would have had a problem with this dilemma, but for me. Chaos will ensue.

Volcanic eruptions and tsunamis ravage the earth, burning all crop lands and flooding the populated islands. The ones who survive the fire and water think that things have ceased, until the moon begins to descend slowly though the Earth's atmosphere. The collision isn't enough the destroy the earth, just enough to disrupt it's rotation. The seasons last much longer now; winter for decades and summer for centuries. Livable conditions are scarce and many go without shelter and die in the brutal climate. Winter winds slice exposed skin like a bull rider's whip while the summer heat melts your feet into the baking dirt. Soon, these humans will devolve into creatures, with hooves and claws, adapted to their hateful environment.

I can feel the emptiness now...I can feel it absorbing everything...No more souls. I've finally done it, I've destroyed them all, or at least changed them. My appearance has become deathly, yet I still feel like I haven't aged a day since... I was reborn. Walking along destroyed buildings I can run my hands across the rooftops, although my massive increase in size, I feel like things are as they should be... I can eat and never fill, drink and always thirst for more. I know what I am, I just don't know when this ride will end... If we still went by the calendar back when this started, the year would be 4432 A.D., and nothing remains. No more skyscrapers, no more cities, no more farms, no more fucking babies, no more happiness and even the sun refuses to shine. My plague, my scourge, has won. I am the last conscience being left. My livestock will never run out, but what value do they pose to me now? Nothing. I think to myself “I love the smell of burning meat.” when I finish broiling the last dozen of them.

My journey again has changed, from enslaving the world to understanding it's finer details. The longer I study, the clearer things become. My questions are answered, and I know that ascension is close... The darkness and the light are melding together, in perfect harmony, like a symphony of chaos and structure. The more answers I receive, a multitude of more questions arise and I am not satisfied with these results. It's like the Gods are mocking me, like they control the power, they control everything. I am just a dingy in this sea of time and space, always aware of my destination, yet always being aware that destruction is eminent and unavoidable. I must build myself into a ship, a massive and glorious sea maiden, worthy of it's name. The centuries of constant power struggles within myself are now distant and humorous memories, and they will remain that way, memories. Some would describe what I went through as “looking from the outside, in.”. I am humbled by my insignificance yet I will never forget my importance in the evolution and devolution of mankind, and how it shaped existence forever.

Trickling through galaxies, exploring new dimensions and planes, continually searching. I never find another form of intelligent life, I never find another voice, nothing but micro-biological beginnings of life. Sub-atomic amoebae in a strange stage before it could be technically called “alive”. In the back of my mind, I know that nothing will be out there. It's as if I've been damned to live alone until he comes for me.

Not for many years did I understand what I had done...The day I arose to my feet. Faced with an ancient demonic face resembling that of an Egyptian pharaoh. “You possess great hatred, and I will have it for myself. Arise to your feet! And glory will be yours. You will reign longer than any king could even imagine and dine in powers only imagined in dreams.” And I agreed without a second guess, my spirit knew that strength was the key to life. Through my arrogant ways and proud ideals, I became the tyrant of my own disgusting universe. And I loved every fucking second of it, I continue with zero regrets...

Running out of planets, running out of space to go, I finally believe it is happening. I can see stars burn out to nothing instead of causing a supernova, I see matter reverting back into less complex atomic structures. Dirt returning to the neutrons, protons and electrons. My thoughts are slowing as well, like my mind knows what's going on. While I am conscientiously unaware of why, as spontaneously as it began it's...Like...I...Can't S...Seem...To..Fini..Sh.. A...Thou..ght....

 

 

 

 

 

 

-“I know you're tired, you're journey is over.”-

 

“You can hear me, can't you...Good. You served us very well. Now for my reward. Open your eyes, fool.”

As my eyes start to open, the soot and tar cracks and crumbles off of my searing eye sockets. Focusing through the smoke I can see the defiled face that plagued my dreams and influenced my every move. My motives and my morals are before me, holding a massive whip in one had and am iron medieval meat-fork in the other. “For the rest of eternity I will devour you for every meal. You will never run out of precious meat...or skin...or blood...” I can't comprehend thoughts and I'm completely paralyzed. Without the words to describe my world, I fade into darkness, without clarity or contentment. No more depth, nothing now.


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