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Maladies and Memories (A/B/C)
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Post by Jeremiah Regis on Jul 19, 2018 10:29:20 GMT
Alright, I'm going to attempt to combine all 3 of these together, because I think I can. 3k words minimum, and a great story to boot (hopefully). 2 post rewards and 1 bit reward please.
Chapter One - Beginnings, and an end.The sun rose over the horizon, the light washing over the towers that were atop King Jeremiah the Greats castle. As the dawn revealed the beauty of his kingdom. Rising with the morning, he let the light bathe him through the window of his room, as his Royal Eminence, Jeremiah Regis, woke for the new day. He savoured this small moment, the brief few seconds of peace and serenity before duty called to him. He could almost count down in his head, knowing exactly how the beginning of this morning would play out. He could count it down in fact, he knew this routine so well. Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six... Five... Four... Three... Two... And... There, a small shuffling noise outside his door. A timid knock, enough to let him know that someone was here, but not enough to provide any actual disturbance. A soft sigh escaped his lips at the dreary monotony of it all. A perfect Kingdom for a perfect King, and yet, it seemed to him, life was beginning to become a bit less vibrant. The hues washing out of everything, a slow, inevitible ticking that he couldn't hear, but he knew it was there anyway. Not a ticking that was counting down to anything. There was nothing to count down to. He briefly closed his eyes, waving his hand over his face to compose himself. "Come in." His back turned to the door, he did not see, but heard, his manservant come in. Not a word was spoken, the stunning day contrasting with the sober tone of the room, as soon as the manservant walked in. Letting himself be dressed, his mind began to wander, days of glory past flashing through his mind. A smile, slowly creeping up his face, until his reverie was broken by a slight cough. "I believe, we are done sir. Shall we head for breakfast, and then to the court where you may hear the woes of your people?" He didn't even wait for an answer, knowing that The King would follow him anyway. Day in and day out, the same thing. He progressed through the day, and as usual, nothing of note happened. He had lunch, continued court, had dinner, read some books, and went to sleep. He then woke up, and the days seemed to repeat, over, and over, and over. He was weary of this. He awoke again, following the exact same pattern. Getting out of bed, waiting for his manservant. Counting down until the knock came. Three... Two... And,,, ,,, Silence. The King Spun around, his face a mix of excitement and worry. He looked at himself, his clothes having appeared on him, and walked towards the door. His hand reached out, grasping the door handle and he slowly twisted. An ominous creaking could be heard, the handle slowly turning over, time seeming to flow as if it were jelly. The handle clicked, the door free. But it didn't open. His hand was on the doorknob, but he was not pulling. He was scared. Scared of what may be behind this door now. Something felt off to him, something he wasn't quite sure of. He pulled. He would not let his fear rule him, and with a mighty tug, yanked the door open. What awaited him was not a hallway, but a wall of ink darkness. Cold to the touch, and almost insubstantial, it seemed to suck the very light itself in. His fingers were brushing against it, and he did not remember putting them against it. But just from touching it, he knew, that if he went through that darkness, he would never come out. The door slowly closed again, as he let go of the handle. He walked back to his bed, lay down on it, and closed his eyes. The sun rose over the horizon, the light washing over the towers that were atop King Jeremiah the Greats castle. As the dawn revealed the beauty of his kingdom. Rising with the morning, he let the light bathe him through the window of his room, as his Royal Eminence, Jeremiah Regis, woke for the new day. He savoured this small moment, the brief few seconds of peace and serenity before duty called to him. He could almost count down in his head, knowing exactly how the beginning of this morning would play out. He could count it down in fact, he knew this routine so well.
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Post by Jeremiah Regis on Jul 20, 2018 12:05:57 GMT
Chapter Two: An illness of the Spirit.
The castle was ablaze with activity. The King had not woken up yet, and lay in his bed, silent. His heart still beat, but he showed no signs of life. It had been weeks since the King had been taken by this malady, and they were still no closer to finding out the cause. His queen sat beside him, sorrow staining her face. His hand clasped in her own, she didn't understand what was happening to him. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, his visage seemingly horribly mutated.
A dark blue-grey color was slowly creeping up his body. Eventually, the parts of his body would... change. A slow growth, you could see the shape of his body changing over the two weeks. It seemed to be getting armored by an odd shell of some sort. It had started from his chest, and worked its way down his body. He only had part of his face left, and his left arm. The rest of him looked more like a monster than a human.
Large, sharp metal feet, that seemed to split down the middle. His legs had become thicker and darker, and his upper thigh covered more in his dark colored armor. Red rims at the knees, and some odd material strapped to it. They were unable to open the small satchels strapped to his legs, and nothing in their possession seemed to be strong enough to cut through it. His waist and torso were covered with even more of the armor, odd tubes of some sort seeming to grow from it. His right arm and shoulder was covered in even more of the armor.
The most horrifying part though, was his face. His entire mouth was covered, a protruding piece of metal with no openings. Tubes came out of that too, connecting to the rest of his helmet. The right side of his face had been covered in more of the armor, but it was his eye that was the worst to see. Covered in a red, smooth material, they could see his eye underneath it, open and completely rolled back, showing only the white. Every now and then it would roll back, rolling around in his eye socket, not focused on anything.
The upper left side of his face was uncovered, and the eye closed, as well as his left arm, though they were not sure how long that would last. At the start, they had regularly bathed and kept him comfortable, giving him liquid food to make sure he stayed nourished. Eventually though, as more of his body changed, washing him became too difficult, and they couldn't feed him when his mouth was covered up. Soon, a week at most, they thought, he would be completely changed.
They had sent people out to find out what was happening, to look for cures, for to find anything that may be able to help him. Nothing had come back, no helpful medicine or information. She feared it was too late, that the King was lost forever. All there was left to do, was to wait. She cursed the old lady who had seemingly caused this, and then apparently disappeared from the world. If only they could find her, they might be able to do something.
Jeremiah woke up, his mind foggy. The sunrise was just as beautiful as it always was, but something seemed off. The knocks came, the normally sharp sounds dull. The movements of the... the... the man that helped him, were staccato, almost seemingly not human. That was wrong. He should know that. The word eluded him though, something was wrong. That shouldn't be right. And the knocks, they had continued, he realized. Even after he had opened the door.
One knock each second. Almost like a clock. Tick. Knock. Knock. Tock. Tick. Tock. Knock. Knock. As soon as he registered it, he couldn't unhear it. The noise was in his head, getting louder and louder. He heard a cackling behind him, from the person who assisted him. He turned around, only to see the person gone.
In his place, was a short, old lady. She was carrying a broom, had grey hair in a bun, and a very pale complexion. A green robe obscured her extremely short frame. Her most distinguishable feature, however, was that her mouth was sewn together. She could open it slightly, though, as she began to talk. "A perfect castle fit for a perfect king." She gestured to the region outside the window, the idyllic landscape out there seeming to shiver, ever so slightly. "And a perfect kingdom at perfect peace."
Jeremiah stood there in shock, not understanding what was happening. His head was still foggy, thoughts coming slowly. "Quite the place that was built for you. But surely, you know. This is not who you truly are." She pointed to the door with her broom, her sewn up face turning into a warped smile. "The door is there, you could exit at any time."
He turned, and walked towards the door. The clocks in his mind ticked louder, and slower. Each tock carrying the weight of of a thousand gongs as he walked closer to the door. He reached his hand out, and touched the door knob, and with a final tick, reality seemed to shatter for a moment. The world went dark as memories flooded back to him, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
"Time is ticking, my liege." He heard the old woman cackle as his mind faded. "You don't have long left in this world before you aren't yourself anymore. And what a shame that would be." The cackling continued as his memories exploded in front of his eyes.
1700
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