Post by The Anarchist on Jun 1, 2016 6:53:44 GMT -5
Prologue
My name is Seromine. A combination of the neurotransmitters Serotonin and Dopamine.
Stop.
No, collaborate and listen will not follow. This isn’t the early nineteen-nineties and I damn sure am not Vanilla Ice. I am well aware of questions that may be followingmy actions, our actions at Living A Legacy. Just because I expect those to be asked or at the very least pondered upon, does not mean I’m going to provide the answers sought. Or at least not yet.
One must remember (if still capable) that with each appearance made, warning was provided prior. We didn’t sneak up on anyone. Ample time was made to find a way out of danger. It wouldn’t have mattered, we’d still get our intended target, but we DID warn. Nathan Saniti. Kelli Starr. Those lovable humans…
The whispers in the wind whistled our way and within the breath of nature, was the thinking of WHY we would choose those two to make our mark on. Both are highly accomplished wrestlers. Both have a high degree of difficulty in being defeated between the ropes. And both now will be out for blood. Focus on those last three words.
Out. For. Blood.
Are we supposed to be scared now? They weren’t random targets, folks. Everything WE do has a reason. The fact of WHO they are both now and before is not lost on us. Both knew who I WAS months ago, but are just barely finding out who I’ve become and who is part of my cause. They want a fight? Great. We want a war. Balance will fall. The realms themselves shall be remade in OUR likeness. And should anyone decide they want to aid the Mystical Madman and his Dollface lover, they too shall find themselves burned at the stake.
As he was. As they shall be.
The Anarchist of a previous time and identity is dead. I was born Jason Willard. Became a husband to Destiny and together, our union bore four children. Four daughters. We’re devoted parents, our plans and the methods used to carry them out not withstanding. The world has got a serious problem, and it’s one that I’ll die protecting my girls from.
What problems?
Anaheim, California has a bit of an interesting history. One, if someone so chooses to look it up, involves the KKK. Did anyone see the news not long ago? At this very given second, the United States has the choice between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump for the next Commander-in-Chief.
And people think I’ve got issues.
Wherever he goes, you can bet trouble will follow. It’s plastered all over the news. He says all of these inflammatory remarks and thinks he does no wrong. I will NOT have my children living amongst the conservatives which bed in Southern California. I will NOT have my children be afraid of bullying. Be amongst the human race which I promise, will be erased off the face of the planet, along with the planet itself! I will not see my daughters live in a place filled with discrimination (the GOP should know what I’m talking about).
So. I found an out. An escape to a new world where time is a four letter word. A place of my creation where I could protect my children from society...but society was not protected from me. From us.
Nathan and Kelli, consider yourselves on permanent notice. Your past has come back to haunt you and WE are the makers of your demises. What has befallen you so far is nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to what else we have in store. The penance I paid in exchange for the new location is something I’d do all over again. A new home. A new identity. A new purpose.
The people of Absinthe are in grave danger…only they don’t know it.
Present
“We’re almost near. Make sure to keep those blindfolds on. A surprise isn’t that if you can see where your going...”
Through the rustles of the leaves, Jason and Destiny lead their children through what can only be described as a labyrinth comprised of orange groves. Situated dead center was the home they would soon inhabit. It wasn’t fully seen at the point inside the winding trees they were at, but the top of it’s sloped roof was providing watch from above. The six mysterious figures adorned in their animal masks followed behind the family, meandering their way through without so much as a word spoken between them. The children themselves had been blindfolded and gagged so as to not being able to see where they were or be able to ask stupid questions (ex. Are we there yet?).
Dust from the earth’s soil kicked up from each dragged step taken. Yeah, the kids were unconscious. One’s imagination can fill in as to why that was. But to alleviate concern, they are perfectly fine. The walk was a long one filled with dead ends, misdirecting paths and only one way in and out. Prior to bringing the kids to their new home, the parents and the followers went ahead first to get things set on the property and inside of the housing structure. After all, loose ends had to be tied up first…
“Just a little further girls. You’re doing good.” spoke Destiny as she lovingly walked lock step with her husband. The house was becoming more and more clear, its details now partially concealed amongst the branches of the fruit bearing trees. One thing to note about the trees themselves was the bark. If one didn’t know any better, in looking at it, you’d say they looked alive. The dark brown etching was snarled in such ways that it really did give off facial expressions. All of which spooky. High above in the sky was an oversaturated shade of blue. Vector shaped clouds race by as if they were locked in a singular time lapse. By that meaning, a continuous daylight.
“Home sweet home!” bellowed Jason. One by one everyone stepped out of the maze and stood in wonder at the farmhouse which looked at them. Literally. The white, dutch windows give that illusion of being watched. As if the house itself was alive. The base of the house itself was ruby red and almost designed like that of a barn. Only it wasn’t one. That was off to the east, down a dirt road and was black as coal in color. A VERY ominous sight to see. No, the three-story house itself was charming in a rustic way. Ruby reds with eggshell white trim. A garden of spring flowers that were bursting in color, almost if someone dialed the hue up to one-hundred. They were super bright and very fragrant.
“Lylyth. Mercer. Take the children upstairs to their rooms and remove the cloths. They shouldn’t wake for quite awhile, but when they do, I want them to be comfortable.”
Two of the on-camera “harbingers” as they were called at Living a Legacy give nod and hoist two children each onto their shoulders. Each step taken up the wooden steps to the front door, shook off dust and creaked from the weight. Within moments they were swallowed in the dark interior of the house. With a gesture, the remaining four followers marched single file inside, likely headed to the same upstairs region that their brethren were heading.
“Do you think they’ll love it here?” asked Destiny.
“Do they have a choice? Kristen may be the toughest for us to convince, but with time, she’ll come to understand.” Jason spoke with a calculated tone, his fingers lovingly caressing her cheek. A smile creeps onto her face, her lips gently embracing his touch.
“And if she doesn’t?”
“I think you know the answer to that...”
Destiny quickly snaps her head up, her gaze fixated on his eyes. But what once seemed like disbelief, slowly buckles into a chilling grin.
“I have a task to carry out tonight. Master has made a request, so we’ll be in the groves. The first step in the destruction of them begins in earnest now.”
“You mean…?
“Yes. And when the transformation happens, woe unto those in Absinthe. The realms. And the world.”
Seromine’s Effigies
Night had fallen in what Seromine calls “Labyrinth Grove,” which as fate would have it, neighbored the neon of Absinthe. The multi-colored glow of which partially brightening the downright scary groves. The skies lit up with the famous shade of green, appearing like the Aurora Borealis. Nestled high above was a sugar white moon. Sixteen eyes of red-orange glow from their respective animal masks, gazed south to the killing ground for what accounted to less than five minutes before they moved away from their concealed positions. What hadn’t been mentioned within the maze was the large circular clearing the group find themselves in. Hand in hand the followers form a circle around the fire pit.
Embers dance in the air. The crackling of the wood provides soothing ambiance to all. It’s as if they are imagining the particles as a pile of bones instead. Positioned within the circle stands Seromine. Clasped tightly in his right hand was the obsidian star amulet given by Lord Chaos. The salivation was palatable. He knew what the reward was to be, and if one were able to see his features under the demonic mask, they’d see a smile fit for enjoying bloodlust. All eight appeared transfixed. Their silhouettes cast against the backdrop of the rooted audience.
“My brothers and sisters...” he spoke in an emotionless cadence “I have been presented with a most powerful item. Master needs our help in returning him to his true form...” the voice was beginning to become more excited. “I have to collect from you the final deadly sin. WRATH!”
The seven in unison chant the sins name, swaying oddly with the enunciation like the possessed hosts they were. The Owl masked leader himself has his head titled back. His body quivering as if the future power was already rearranging his organs.
“But that is NOT the only business at hand. In a matter of days, we must return to their world and arrive in South Carolina. My return to the ring has been set. An Underground match with a fellow by the name of Razor Blade, and someone who could be of help down the road as it pertains to our in-ring business, Baby Jenks!”
The name “Jenks” gets hissed amongst the group.
“There’s no myth about it. We shall beat the life out of Razor Blade all day...and night to send a message to our true enemies. The Darkness are not our foes. In fact, I respect the level of violence they are willing to demonstrate, with or without a list, to make a point. This may be an Underground match, but it might as well be labeled a sanctioned execution in the name of Razor Blade. Baby Jenks just so happens to be a booked witness to the proceeding. There may be a point where we have to square off against one another during the action, but that is a bridge that shall be crossed when the time comes. Whether it is my hand raised, or hers, so long as Razor Blade is decimated by the bells end, it is a victory for us all!! Now...to OUR purpose tonight.”
Shifting his head to the side, he points the trinket like a gun. His followers ceasing their movement in preparation.
“In the name of our master, Lord Chaos, we gift unto him the seed of WRATH!!”
A thick substance resembling living smoke billows out and finds it’s way to the awaiting seven. Each shake in violent convulsions, their groans and shrieks shattering the night air as pitch black essence expels from their bodies. Seromine eyes his group while remaining stoic. Once the process has finished, the plasmic energy returns back to it’s ivory accentuated chamber. The followers meanwhile fall weak and prone to the earth beneath them, but are otherwise unharmed.
“Life as ‘they’ know it will be nothing more but a lucid memory. Woe unto the Magician and his Candy Coated Harlot. They shall join the un-calculated casualties which shall line our kingdom. Rest easy now...I’ll deliver this to him when the time is right.” he says gravelly and without emotion. Before Seromine saunters into the citrus labyrinth, mock scarecrows of both Razor Blade and Baby Jenks are tossed into the fire pit.
“Nobody puts Baby Jenks in the corner.” says Seromine, amusing himself before heading towards the direction of the house, with a most powerful trinket.
My name is Seromine. A combination of the neurotransmitters Serotonin and Dopamine.
Stop.
No, collaborate and listen will not follow. This isn’t the early nineteen-nineties and I damn sure am not Vanilla Ice. I am well aware of questions that may be following
One must remember (if still capable) that with each appearance made, warning was provided prior. We didn’t sneak up on anyone. Ample time was made to find a way out of danger. It wouldn’t have mattered, we’d still get our intended target, but we DID warn. Nathan Saniti. Kelli Starr. Those lovable humans…
The whispers in the wind whistled our way and within the breath of nature, was the thinking of WHY we would choose those two to make our mark on. Both are highly accomplished wrestlers. Both have a high degree of difficulty in being defeated between the ropes. And both now will be out for blood. Focus on those last three words.
Out. For. Blood.
Are we supposed to be scared now? They weren’t random targets, folks. Everything WE do has a reason. The fact of WHO they are both now and before is not lost on us. Both knew who I WAS months ago, but are just barely finding out who I’ve become and who is part of my cause. They want a fight? Great. We want a war. Balance will fall. The realms themselves shall be remade in OUR likeness. And should anyone decide they want to aid the Mystical Madman and his Dollface lover, they too shall find themselves burned at the stake.
As he was. As they shall be.
The Anarchist of a previous time and identity is dead. I was born Jason Willard. Became a husband to Destiny and together, our union bore four children. Four daughters. We’re devoted parents, our plans and the methods used to carry them out not withstanding. The world has got a serious problem, and it’s one that I’ll die protecting my girls from.
What problems?
Anaheim, California has a bit of an interesting history. One, if someone so chooses to look it up, involves the KKK. Did anyone see the news not long ago? At this very given second, the United States has the choice between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump for the next Commander-in-Chief.
And people think I’ve got issues.
Wherever he goes, you can bet trouble will follow. It’s plastered all over the news. He says all of these inflammatory remarks and thinks he does no wrong. I will NOT have my children living amongst the conservatives which bed in Southern California. I will NOT have my children be afraid of bullying. Be amongst the human race which I promise, will be erased off the face of the planet, along with the planet itself! I will not see my daughters live in a place filled with discrimination (the GOP should know what I’m talking about).
So. I found an out. An escape to a new world where time is a four letter word. A place of my creation where I could protect my children from society...but society was not protected from me. From us.
Nathan and Kelli, consider yourselves on permanent notice. Your past has come back to haunt you and WE are the makers of your demises. What has befallen you so far is nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to what else we have in store. The penance I paid in exchange for the new location is something I’d do all over again. A new home. A new identity. A new purpose.
The people of Absinthe are in grave danger…only they don’t know it.
Present
“We’re almost near. Make sure to keep those blindfolds on. A surprise isn’t that if you can see where your going...”
Through the rustles of the leaves, Jason and Destiny lead their children through what can only be described as a labyrinth comprised of orange groves. Situated dead center was the home they would soon inhabit. It wasn’t fully seen at the point inside the winding trees they were at, but the top of it’s sloped roof was providing watch from above. The six mysterious figures adorned in their animal masks followed behind the family, meandering their way through without so much as a word spoken between them. The children themselves had been blindfolded and gagged so as to not being able to see where they were or be able to ask stupid questions (ex. Are we there yet?).
Dust from the earth’s soil kicked up from each dragged step taken. Yeah, the kids were unconscious. One’s imagination can fill in as to why that was. But to alleviate concern, they are perfectly fine. The walk was a long one filled with dead ends, misdirecting paths and only one way in and out. Prior to bringing the kids to their new home, the parents and the followers went ahead first to get things set on the property and inside of the housing structure. After all, loose ends had to be tied up first…
“Just a little further girls. You’re doing good.” spoke Destiny as she lovingly walked lock step with her husband. The house was becoming more and more clear, its details now partially concealed amongst the branches of the fruit bearing trees. One thing to note about the trees themselves was the bark. If one didn’t know any better, in looking at it, you’d say they looked alive. The dark brown etching was snarled in such ways that it really did give off facial expressions. All of which spooky. High above in the sky was an oversaturated shade of blue. Vector shaped clouds race by as if they were locked in a singular time lapse. By that meaning, a continuous daylight.
“Home sweet home!” bellowed Jason. One by one everyone stepped out of the maze and stood in wonder at the farmhouse which looked at them. Literally. The white, dutch windows give that illusion of being watched. As if the house itself was alive. The base of the house itself was ruby red and almost designed like that of a barn. Only it wasn’t one. That was off to the east, down a dirt road and was black as coal in color. A VERY ominous sight to see. No, the three-story house itself was charming in a rustic way. Ruby reds with eggshell white trim. A garden of spring flowers that were bursting in color, almost if someone dialed the hue up to one-hundred. They were super bright and very fragrant.
“Lylyth. Mercer. Take the children upstairs to their rooms and remove the cloths. They shouldn’t wake for quite awhile, but when they do, I want them to be comfortable.”
Two of the on-camera “harbingers” as they were called at Living a Legacy give nod and hoist two children each onto their shoulders. Each step taken up the wooden steps to the front door, shook off dust and creaked from the weight. Within moments they were swallowed in the dark interior of the house. With a gesture, the remaining four followers marched single file inside, likely headed to the same upstairs region that their brethren were heading.
“Do you think they’ll love it here?” asked Destiny.
“Do they have a choice? Kristen may be the toughest for us to convince, but with time, she’ll come to understand.” Jason spoke with a calculated tone, his fingers lovingly caressing her cheek. A smile creeps onto her face, her lips gently embracing his touch.
“And if she doesn’t?”
“I think you know the answer to that...”
Destiny quickly snaps her head up, her gaze fixated on his eyes. But what once seemed like disbelief, slowly buckles into a chilling grin.
“I have a task to carry out tonight. Master has made a request, so we’ll be in the groves. The first step in the destruction of them begins in earnest now.”
“You mean…?
“Yes. And when the transformation happens, woe unto those in Absinthe. The realms. And the world.”
Seromine’s Effigies
Night had fallen in what Seromine calls “Labyrinth Grove,” which as fate would have it, neighbored the neon of Absinthe. The multi-colored glow of which partially brightening the downright scary groves. The skies lit up with the famous shade of green, appearing like the Aurora Borealis. Nestled high above was a sugar white moon. Sixteen eyes of red-orange glow from their respective animal masks, gazed south to the killing ground for what accounted to less than five minutes before they moved away from their concealed positions. What hadn’t been mentioned within the maze was the large circular clearing the group find themselves in. Hand in hand the followers form a circle around the fire pit.
Embers dance in the air. The crackling of the wood provides soothing ambiance to all. It’s as if they are imagining the particles as a pile of bones instead. Positioned within the circle stands Seromine. Clasped tightly in his right hand was the obsidian star amulet given by Lord Chaos. The salivation was palatable. He knew what the reward was to be, and if one were able to see his features under the demonic mask, they’d see a smile fit for enjoying bloodlust. All eight appeared transfixed. Their silhouettes cast against the backdrop of the rooted audience.
“My brothers and sisters...” he spoke in an emotionless cadence “I have been presented with a most powerful item. Master needs our help in returning him to his true form...” the voice was beginning to become more excited. “I have to collect from you the final deadly sin. WRATH!”
The seven in unison chant the sins name, swaying oddly with the enunciation like the possessed hosts they were. The Owl masked leader himself has his head titled back. His body quivering as if the future power was already rearranging his organs.
“But that is NOT the only business at hand. In a matter of days, we must return to their world and arrive in South Carolina. My return to the ring has been set. An Underground match with a fellow by the name of Razor Blade, and someone who could be of help down the road as it pertains to our in-ring business, Baby Jenks!”
The name “Jenks” gets hissed amongst the group.
“There’s no myth about it. We shall beat the life out of Razor Blade all day...and night to send a message to our true enemies. The Darkness are not our foes. In fact, I respect the level of violence they are willing to demonstrate, with or without a list, to make a point. This may be an Underground match, but it might as well be labeled a sanctioned execution in the name of Razor Blade. Baby Jenks just so happens to be a booked witness to the proceeding. There may be a point where we have to square off against one another during the action, but that is a bridge that shall be crossed when the time comes. Whether it is my hand raised, or hers, so long as Razor Blade is decimated by the bells end, it is a victory for us all!! Now...to OUR purpose tonight.”
Shifting his head to the side, he points the trinket like a gun. His followers ceasing their movement in preparation.
“In the name of our master, Lord Chaos, we gift unto him the seed of WRATH!!”
A thick substance resembling living smoke billows out and finds it’s way to the awaiting seven. Each shake in violent convulsions, their groans and shrieks shattering the night air as pitch black essence expels from their bodies. Seromine eyes his group while remaining stoic. Once the process has finished, the plasmic energy returns back to it’s ivory accentuated chamber. The followers meanwhile fall weak and prone to the earth beneath them, but are otherwise unharmed.
“Life as ‘they’ know it will be nothing more but a lucid memory. Woe unto the Magician and his Candy Coated Harlot. They shall join the un-calculated casualties which shall line our kingdom. Rest easy now...I’ll deliver this to him when the time is right.” he says gravelly and without emotion. Before Seromine saunters into the citrus labyrinth, mock scarecrows of both Razor Blade and Baby Jenks are tossed into the fire pit.
“Nobody puts Baby Jenks in the corner.” says Seromine, amusing himself before heading towards the direction of the house, with a most powerful trinket.