The Shadow Realm
Leader of The Shadow Realm
Chapter 1
“You should’ve never glanced at that note boy,” gruffed a scruffy middle-aged man in the room’s center. He paused to strike a match on the roof’s jagged ceiling before bringing its ember light up to a rusted pipe. With a puff of vapor that permeated the room’s entirety the man locked his gaze upon the brown-haired hostage on the floor, who was steadily dripping blood from multiple gashes across his torso.
“If you didn't do just that one manageable thing, you wouldn’t be in this mess, and I’d be at home enjoying what remained of my meal tickets..” The man suddenly grew soundless once more, just as hazy carmine light began to slink its way across the cabin through vents adorning the walls. This light, however, didn't bring warmth, but that of a deathly coldness. With a grimace now etched on the middle-aged soul, he knew what the cold’s arrival meant for the task at hand.
As time grew on, the wind grew ever higher outside and the room grew ever more frigid. Despite the multiple wounds blanketing his body, the teen on the ground was still conscious of his surroundings, and ever pondering the increasingly dire situation at hand. In his mind raced an assortment of things, stretching close as regret to as far as bloodlust.
Why’d I do it, I-I knew something was off, but I still did just that. The job price was far too good for the package size, why didn’t I just turn her down. The kid’s head slumped ever deeper as this repeated throughout his head, up until he was all but welded onto its glassy tiles from a mixture of his own blood and tears. Am I going to die… Is this it…? With this final revelation peaking in his head the room grew to a grinding halt, causing him to thrown forwards into a sloshy concoction of his own blood and ice. As he laid still atop the pile, his heart began to pound and his vision began to tunnel. This is it, the end of the line.
His mind spoke the truth but began to grow weak at the thought of death, and soon rejected the idea foolheartedly to make up fictitious falsehoods. Instead of becoming ready to embrace death, it was putting up sheets of paper marked with lies to protect itself. No, I’ll be just fine..! This is just a dream after all, and as soon as I die I-I’ll just wake right up. His mind continued on with it's rambling even as he was dropped out of the towering machine into the trudged up snowbank below, which instead of bringing a response from him brought only a slight wheeze as the breath left his body from the audible impact.
As the middle-aged man started down the worn ladder afterward, the kid’s limp body attempted to do what the brain itself couldn’t - move. With his brain standing idly by, his legs worked alone trying to clumsily gain ground on the unpacked snow crunching beneath them, to some avail. As his legs went to carry him away from harm's way however, a deafening ping pierced both the dead still landscape around them and that of his shin.
With what remained of his bone scattered and glistening in the snow akin to broken rubies, the kid quickly fell forward into the snow as the pain began to rack his body. Despite the amount of blood lost however, the boy soon began to crawl once more. This form of struggling continued on for a seeming eternity; crawl, pain, repeat. “What is even the point in trying anymore?” he muttered. As he gave up, all of what remained of his energy went with it - leaving him dead-still in the snow.
With each passing second he heard the footsteps growing ever closer to him, and still, limply he stayed; up until his hearing trumpeted the twelfth step, upon which he brought his beaten head up to the assailant. With a guilty look plastered on the man’s face, he too glanced back at the bloodied mass on the ground before breaking into a sickeningly wide smile. “Hey, don’t look at me like that pup. You act as if I’m the big bad wolf here,” said the man. “Well I guess to you I am... In my eyes, however, I’m not a wolf but a savior.” He took a puff out his crooked pipe, blowing it towards the kid. “I’m a savior as that paper you looked at holds all of this dome’s plans for expansion, and I can’t have that information rattling around in that damned brain of yours.” With a swift motion, he snatched out a handgun of unknown origin out from his coat and shoved it in the left portion of the kid’s cranium. “As such, I’m going to blast all that Intel straight out of there, and into the snow here.” As his words finished, a smile encompassed the man’s face once more and a bullet’s vibration screamed throughout the dead valley below.
Ah, so this is how it’s like to die.
With the bullet firmly punctured throughout his skull, the snow beneath the kid was packed full of debris stemming from the wound. Despite that, he still maintained a sense of consciousness as he slowly began to slip away into the confines of death. In his head rushed the same things as before, alongside a sense of peace. Although it was cold outside, he no longer felt it, even though a hole was stamped into his brain, he no longer felt a single lick of pain, although fear just rocked his body, it had all but vanished. In all of his seventeen-year lease of life, this is the greatest peace to ever befell him.
I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise, life can be a burden anyway.
As his vision narrowed to an end, his head roughly tumbled into the warm concoction below him. Just as what remained of him finally began to leave this mortal coil, he heard the faintest hint of sound.
You can’t leave just yet, Avalon.
Why not..?
Beca-
Chapter 2
The steady drip of a faucet was the first thing the decrepit body noticed upon semi-waking, as no warmth was felt on their skin nor light in their sunken eyes. This palpable plip of liquid went on for a seeming eternity as they sat locked into the bed, and was active for a seeming eternity as well. The racket was, however, preferable to silence, as anxiety soon began to rack the victim upon its ceasing of action. As the plops ended, unpredictable signals echoed around it, causing the dull raps and taps of boots to dash over to put on a new drip packet. Over time, these pairs of boots became the corpse’s sense of solace, and they soon figured out when a “bag” was being put on. Although it was small, it showed the being that even it was alive.
After a while, the sense of touch began to return as well - despite the husk being unable to move and it being faint at best. This enabled the being to feel even more alive, and upon the realization caused the “bag sensor” to beep sporadically until the “boots” settled it down again with a prickly pain in the patient's arm. As time passed, they were beginning to be able to move the right side of their body, upon which the husk promptly began to feel around the bed that confined them. After a period of many days and shots later, it realized that they were in a hospital of some sort. With that information in tow, the shell began to panic at the thought of the bill at hand, upon which set off the I.V box once again. Over time, however, that fear dissipated with the help of shots and the slight return of eyesight.
Although it began with meager bands of light, silhouettes soon began to become common in their right eye, with no response but inky darkness coming from the left. These outlines soon gave way to actual views of the infirmary room and their surroundings. As their vision fully collected the husk soon realized it was entirely alive, and that it was indeed a boy once more. The realization that all of this was not a fabrication of his brain caused the man to beam with glee, and over time his memory began to rekindle as well.
As with time, his mind was almost as sharp as before the incident, and staff soon began to let "Aval" out for short periods of time. Although it seemed mainly for his psychological state at first, the daily movement enabled him to regain most of his motor skills, and even enabled basic movement back into the left side of his body. This rehabilitation continued for well over a year, upon which greatly aided him in gaining back what he had lost.
Despite the results being mostly positive, however, the staff soon noticed that Avel's temperament could change in moments of him feeling threatened. This had, in a few cases, led to the tranquilization of him at the hands of hospital interns. With the bizarre behavior becoming ever more prominent, C.A.T Scans proved that the damage the left-most portion of the frontal lobe was the major factor, and with medicine soon vanquished most of the issue.
“You should’ve never glanced at that note boy,” gruffed a scruffy middle-aged man in the room’s center. He paused to strike a match on the roof’s jagged ceiling before bringing its ember light up to a rusted pipe. With a puff of vapor that permeated the room’s entirety the man locked his gaze upon the brown-haired hostage on the floor, who was steadily dripping blood from multiple gashes across his torso.
“If you didn't do just that one manageable thing, you wouldn’t be in this mess, and I’d be at home enjoying what remained of my meal tickets..” The man suddenly grew soundless once more, just as hazy carmine light began to slink its way across the cabin through vents adorning the walls. This light, however, didn't bring warmth, but that of a deathly coldness. With a grimace now etched on the middle-aged soul, he knew what the cold’s arrival meant for the task at hand.
As time grew on, the wind grew ever higher outside and the room grew ever more frigid. Despite the multiple wounds blanketing his body, the teen on the ground was still conscious of his surroundings, and ever pondering the increasingly dire situation at hand. In his mind raced an assortment of things, stretching close as regret to as far as bloodlust.
Why’d I do it, I-I knew something was off, but I still did just that. The job price was far too good for the package size, why didn’t I just turn her down. The kid’s head slumped ever deeper as this repeated throughout his head, up until he was all but welded onto its glassy tiles from a mixture of his own blood and tears. Am I going to die… Is this it…? With this final revelation peaking in his head the room grew to a grinding halt, causing him to thrown forwards into a sloshy concoction of his own blood and ice. As he laid still atop the pile, his heart began to pound and his vision began to tunnel. This is it, the end of the line.
His mind spoke the truth but began to grow weak at the thought of death, and soon rejected the idea foolheartedly to make up fictitious falsehoods. Instead of becoming ready to embrace death, it was putting up sheets of paper marked with lies to protect itself. No, I’ll be just fine..! This is just a dream after all, and as soon as I die I-I’ll just wake right up. His mind continued on with it's rambling even as he was dropped out of the towering machine into the trudged up snowbank below, which instead of bringing a response from him brought only a slight wheeze as the breath left his body from the audible impact.
As the middle-aged man started down the worn ladder afterward, the kid’s limp body attempted to do what the brain itself couldn’t - move. With his brain standing idly by, his legs worked alone trying to clumsily gain ground on the unpacked snow crunching beneath them, to some avail. As his legs went to carry him away from harm's way however, a deafening ping pierced both the dead still landscape around them and that of his shin.
With what remained of his bone scattered and glistening in the snow akin to broken rubies, the kid quickly fell forward into the snow as the pain began to rack his body. Despite the amount of blood lost however, the boy soon began to crawl once more. This form of struggling continued on for a seeming eternity; crawl, pain, repeat. “What is even the point in trying anymore?” he muttered. As he gave up, all of what remained of his energy went with it - leaving him dead-still in the snow.
With each passing second he heard the footsteps growing ever closer to him, and still, limply he stayed; up until his hearing trumpeted the twelfth step, upon which he brought his beaten head up to the assailant. With a guilty look plastered on the man’s face, he too glanced back at the bloodied mass on the ground before breaking into a sickeningly wide smile. “Hey, don’t look at me like that pup. You act as if I’m the big bad wolf here,” said the man. “Well I guess to you I am... In my eyes, however, I’m not a wolf but a savior.” He took a puff out his crooked pipe, blowing it towards the kid. “I’m a savior as that paper you looked at holds all of this dome’s plans for expansion, and I can’t have that information rattling around in that damned brain of yours.” With a swift motion, he snatched out a handgun of unknown origin out from his coat and shoved it in the left portion of the kid’s cranium. “As such, I’m going to blast all that Intel straight out of there, and into the snow here.” As his words finished, a smile encompassed the man’s face once more and a bullet’s vibration screamed throughout the dead valley below.
Ah, so this is how it’s like to die.
With the bullet firmly punctured throughout his skull, the snow beneath the kid was packed full of debris stemming from the wound. Despite that, he still maintained a sense of consciousness as he slowly began to slip away into the confines of death. In his head rushed the same things as before, alongside a sense of peace. Although it was cold outside, he no longer felt it, even though a hole was stamped into his brain, he no longer felt a single lick of pain, although fear just rocked his body, it had all but vanished. In all of his seventeen-year lease of life, this is the greatest peace to ever befell him.
I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise, life can be a burden anyway.
As his vision narrowed to an end, his head roughly tumbled into the warm concoction below him. Just as what remained of him finally began to leave this mortal coil, he heard the faintest hint of sound.
You can’t leave just yet, Avalon.
Why not..?
Beca-
Chapter 2
The steady drip of a faucet was the first thing the decrepit body noticed upon semi-waking, as no warmth was felt on their skin nor light in their sunken eyes. This palpable plip of liquid went on for a seeming eternity as they sat locked into the bed, and was active for a seeming eternity as well. The racket was, however, preferable to silence, as anxiety soon began to rack the victim upon its ceasing of action. As the plops ended, unpredictable signals echoed around it, causing the dull raps and taps of boots to dash over to put on a new drip packet. Over time, these pairs of boots became the corpse’s sense of solace, and they soon figured out when a “bag” was being put on. Although it was small, it showed the being that even it was alive.
After a while, the sense of touch began to return as well - despite the husk being unable to move and it being faint at best. This enabled the being to feel even more alive, and upon the realization caused the “bag sensor” to beep sporadically until the “boots” settled it down again with a prickly pain in the patient's arm. As time passed, they were beginning to be able to move the right side of their body, upon which the husk promptly began to feel around the bed that confined them. After a period of many days and shots later, it realized that they were in a hospital of some sort. With that information in tow, the shell began to panic at the thought of the bill at hand, upon which set off the I.V box once again. Over time, however, that fear dissipated with the help of shots and the slight return of eyesight.
Although it began with meager bands of light, silhouettes soon began to become common in their right eye, with no response but inky darkness coming from the left. These outlines soon gave way to actual views of the infirmary room and their surroundings. As their vision fully collected the husk soon realized it was entirely alive, and that it was indeed a boy once more. The realization that all of this was not a fabrication of his brain caused the man to beam with glee, and over time his memory began to rekindle as well.
As with time, his mind was almost as sharp as before the incident, and staff soon began to let "Aval" out for short periods of time. Although it seemed mainly for his psychological state at first, the daily movement enabled him to regain most of his motor skills, and even enabled basic movement back into the left side of his body. This rehabilitation continued for well over a year, upon which greatly aided him in gaining back what he had lost.
Despite the results being mostly positive, however, the staff soon noticed that Avel's temperament could change in moments of him feeling threatened. This had, in a few cases, led to the tranquilization of him at the hands of hospital interns. With the bizarre behavior becoming ever more prominent, C.A.T Scans proved that the damage the left-most portion of the frontal lobe was the major factor, and with medicine soon vanquished most of the issue.
