Eyes

[Marklos]

Eyes
By Marklos Lurethan (James)



I ran.

The days afterward were a blur of hunger and fear, broken by periods of terror-filled sleep. Several times more had I fled from pursuing monsters hunting for a quick meal. Nightmare creatures my family had not warned me of. Howls echoed in the dusk, forcing me to find shelter in a hollow of a tree or up in it’s branches. I wandered the wilderness for what seemed like ages. I was lost. I knew if I didn’t find civilization soon, my existence was forfeit.

I had just recently passed my 13th season of “life” when they came. The horrible monstrosities that destroyed my family…my childhood…my hope. My parents had shut me up in the attic when they heard the unearthly moans. There was a strange look in my father’s eyes as he kissed my forehead. They closed the door and I was alone! Scared and confused, I hoped my parents would protect me from whatever it was that threatened our home. My nervous silence was broken by our mother screaming. Tears filled my eyes as it was abruptly silenced. I knew what had happened. Silence filled the air. Like death. Emptiness. Then I heard a shuffling downstairs. As if something was moving around. I thought it was my father coming to save me…to comfort me. I ran to the door, threw it open and launched myself down the stairs. My heart and mind were not prepared for what met my eyes. Several beings were staggering about in a somnambulistic state. Their bodies were mottled green and brown and reeked a terrible smell. A realization struck me like a thunderbolt.

They were dead.

Like something from the stories that fathers tell their children to keep them obedient. Their vacant eyes and expressionless faces turned my direction. My scream attracted the attention of another being. A black robed figure standing in the doorway. The evening sun setting on the horizon behind him cast an ominous shadow into the room. Fear gripped my heart as the undead started toward me, their arms outstretched.

“Hold!” stated the robed figure flatly.

The zombies froze, as if carved in ice. His voice was hoarse and thick with a heavy northern accent. He pulled back his voluminous cowl revealing gaunt features. A long, sharp nose hooked down over his thin, red-tinted lips. Black, wiry hair framed his face down to his pointed chin. His dark eyebrows ran together in concentration above sunken eyes as he stared at me.

His eyes…I remember his eyes. Piercing blue eyes. Not filled with life, but devoid of any feeling, emotion.

[rudy2688]

Not bad. Anymore coming?

[Marklos]

I have not thought of any more to write, as this was a background I wrote for a necromancer character of mine. the girl, misguided and damaged (mentally and emotionally) as she was, delved into the dark arts to find and take revenge on the man that slaughtered her family.

Her new name, Mourdalia Sul.