Post by Nathan Saniti on Sept 18, 2015 20:04:40 GMT -5
Nero Shall Fiddle Again - Chapter 8
Chaos shifted in his throne uneasily, wearily. The eons had taken much from him as a Living Nightmare, and now as the leader of the realm, it wore him to tatters to visit the "real" world. Still, he knew he had to have an audience with The Stranger. The craggy spires jutting in every direction in his throne room seemed to dare him to relax, to drop his guard.
There were no usual usurpers to be wary of. No, though his confidence in his charge remained mostly unshaken, knowing that Nathan Saniti's entourage were beginning to rally, became worrisome. The spell had taken a toll on the Mystical Madman, as Lord Chaos had hoped, its effect still being felt by its host. But these interlopers...
He slammed his skeletal hand with surprising force, sending a jarring temblor throughout his immediate vicinity that cowered any underlings within the shockwave. "I will have Nathan Saniti under my powers! A man with his talent to bend reality could very well become the Nightmare I need to bring reality to its knees."
He stewed on the upstart Stranger, knowing full well that the mortal had been incubating his own plans. He didn't matter, nor did his plans. Once the real face of the terror about to be unleashed came to fruition, the best laid plans of mortals would be but a footnote. Nathan Saniti and Lord Chaos both had one thing going for them that no simple human could ever grasp; time. Their brief and frail lives were a measly blip on the scale of the Lord of Nightmares. Even members of the Infiniti Council like Fate and Saniti hadn't seen as long a life.
The Nightmare Realm had existed as long as sentient beings have had dreams, and Terra, though still a fledgling planet in a vast array of multi-verses, had kept the eyes of many like-minded beings as Chaos. Creating mankind's need for religion was merely a controlled form of Nightmarish vision. Keep the masses preoccupied with deities that don't exist whilst using the notions to force them to squabble with each other. It was a beautiful ruse. Chaotic, just as the being whom created it, yet still an Order to it.
Nathan would become the one in charge of it. Perfect balance, yet still driven by horrors unimaginable. Lord Chaos chuckled to himself at the thought. Love and hate balanced and paired with geographical and cultural differences. It was his masterpiece. If the humans ever figured it out, they may just evolve past the need for both Religion and Nightmares. And they were getting close. He could not abide by that.
But first, a confab with the crimson-haired charlatan who fancied himself above his master. Even the Black Hand would bow on their knees soon enough.
*******
Nathan sat at his writing desk just as he had before, and sadly, with similar results as last time, though he made certain this time that no technology was immediately available. It seemed as though if he emptied his mind, he could fritter through remedial tasks without awakening the spell and having it all go south. Writing, however, took concentration to formulate words, to paint his thoughts in ink. Yet every time, the thoughts he had hoped would be penned morphed into something dastardly, something he dare not give to his beloved Kelli Starr.
One crumpled ball of parchment piled atop the next as he fruitlessly scribed again and again. If he had been able to return to his own world, an idea may have struck him. Instead, it merely appeared to him, rather nonchalantly, one might add. Arrogant things. A smile scored its way over his face, but the unseeable mask spun the expression upside down. He would write to his love, but it would take some trickery.
"Kelli McBitchface," he wrote, hoping the idea would work as intended. He set his pen down, allowing the blurred inscription to come into focus. As it did, his heart pounded in anticipation.
"My Dearest Kelli," came into view. His soul leapt with glee. Perhaps now, he could explain himself. Just a little chicanery to slip past the spell is all it may take. Quickly, he took up the quill, scribbling as fast as this conflicted mind would allow.
"I absolutely despise you with every fiber of my being. Being forced to team with you and this upstart hooligan named Justin Kaard shall be the absolute worst night of my prolonged life. I only wish you could understand the seething hatred I hold in my heart for you. I would rather die than spend another night with you, much less endure another battle at your side.
"Those Black Hand fellows have the right idea. Set fire to the world and watch it burn. I sincerely hope we lose yet another match to shatter the fans' desire to rally behind us. Hapless fools one and all. You are a distraction from my one and only goal; to shake Mr. William Dillinger's hand.
"First, I have to tolerate teaming with you in order to be victim of another loss at the hands of his brother, Mr. Phineas Dillinger, and his cohorts, Mr. Michael Wryght, and Mr. Justin Michaels. All are horrid competitors who deserve every loss they have incurred. I am at a loss for words at how much fear they instill in me.
"Once this is over, I hope to have you out of my life for all eternity, Kelli Starr. I hope to never see you again. Good luck with your secret admirer. May whoever he is abuse you with the adoration of a cheese grater. With all the venomous hate I can muster,
"Nathan Saniti."
He rested his writing, allowing the spell to work. Just as he'd hoped, nearly all of his scrawlings came out opposite of what he had written. All except one minor detail; the name at the end did not sign him as the author, but the caster of the spell.
"The Stranger."
Nathan may have temporarily lost his powers, but his knowledge of the workings of magic remained. He blew on the ink to assist it in the drying process. As it solidified, it transformed one final time:
"Phineas Dillinger."
Absolute rage engulfed Nathan. "The Brothers Dillinger shall know my wrath." Such was the depths of his hate that the spell he was under forced him to skip happily through Charlotte, North Carolina all the way to Pure Class Arena. Yeah. Cuz he didn't turn heads anyways.
Chaos shifted in his throne uneasily, wearily. The eons had taken much from him as a Living Nightmare, and now as the leader of the realm, it wore him to tatters to visit the "real" world. Still, he knew he had to have an audience with The Stranger. The craggy spires jutting in every direction in his throne room seemed to dare him to relax, to drop his guard.
There were no usual usurpers to be wary of. No, though his confidence in his charge remained mostly unshaken, knowing that Nathan Saniti's entourage were beginning to rally, became worrisome. The spell had taken a toll on the Mystical Madman, as Lord Chaos had hoped, its effect still being felt by its host. But these interlopers...
He slammed his skeletal hand with surprising force, sending a jarring temblor throughout his immediate vicinity that cowered any underlings within the shockwave. "I will have Nathan Saniti under my powers! A man with his talent to bend reality could very well become the Nightmare I need to bring reality to its knees."
He stewed on the upstart Stranger, knowing full well that the mortal had been incubating his own plans. He didn't matter, nor did his plans. Once the real face of the terror about to be unleashed came to fruition, the best laid plans of mortals would be but a footnote. Nathan Saniti and Lord Chaos both had one thing going for them that no simple human could ever grasp; time. Their brief and frail lives were a measly blip on the scale of the Lord of Nightmares. Even members of the Infiniti Council like Fate and Saniti hadn't seen as long a life.
The Nightmare Realm had existed as long as sentient beings have had dreams, and Terra, though still a fledgling planet in a vast array of multi-verses, had kept the eyes of many like-minded beings as Chaos. Creating mankind's need for religion was merely a controlled form of Nightmarish vision. Keep the masses preoccupied with deities that don't exist whilst using the notions to force them to squabble with each other. It was a beautiful ruse. Chaotic, just as the being whom created it, yet still an Order to it.
Nathan would become the one in charge of it. Perfect balance, yet still driven by horrors unimaginable. Lord Chaos chuckled to himself at the thought. Love and hate balanced and paired with geographical and cultural differences. It was his masterpiece. If the humans ever figured it out, they may just evolve past the need for both Religion and Nightmares. And they were getting close. He could not abide by that.
But first, a confab with the crimson-haired charlatan who fancied himself above his master. Even the Black Hand would bow on their knees soon enough.
*******
Nathan sat at his writing desk just as he had before, and sadly, with similar results as last time, though he made certain this time that no technology was immediately available. It seemed as though if he emptied his mind, he could fritter through remedial tasks without awakening the spell and having it all go south. Writing, however, took concentration to formulate words, to paint his thoughts in ink. Yet every time, the thoughts he had hoped would be penned morphed into something dastardly, something he dare not give to his beloved Kelli Starr.
One crumpled ball of parchment piled atop the next as he fruitlessly scribed again and again. If he had been able to return to his own world, an idea may have struck him. Instead, it merely appeared to him, rather nonchalantly, one might add. Arrogant things. A smile scored its way over his face, but the unseeable mask spun the expression upside down. He would write to his love, but it would take some trickery.
"Kelli McBitchface," he wrote, hoping the idea would work as intended. He set his pen down, allowing the blurred inscription to come into focus. As it did, his heart pounded in anticipation.
"My Dearest Kelli," came into view. His soul leapt with glee. Perhaps now, he could explain himself. Just a little chicanery to slip past the spell is all it may take. Quickly, he took up the quill, scribbling as fast as this conflicted mind would allow.
"I absolutely despise you with every fiber of my being. Being forced to team with you and this upstart hooligan named Justin Kaard shall be the absolute worst night of my prolonged life. I only wish you could understand the seething hatred I hold in my heart for you. I would rather die than spend another night with you, much less endure another battle at your side.
"Those Black Hand fellows have the right idea. Set fire to the world and watch it burn. I sincerely hope we lose yet another match to shatter the fans' desire to rally behind us. Hapless fools one and all. You are a distraction from my one and only goal; to shake Mr. William Dillinger's hand.
"First, I have to tolerate teaming with you in order to be victim of another loss at the hands of his brother, Mr. Phineas Dillinger, and his cohorts, Mr. Michael Wryght, and Mr. Justin Michaels. All are horrid competitors who deserve every loss they have incurred. I am at a loss for words at how much fear they instill in me.
"Once this is over, I hope to have you out of my life for all eternity, Kelli Starr. I hope to never see you again. Good luck with your secret admirer. May whoever he is abuse you with the adoration of a cheese grater. With all the venomous hate I can muster,
"Nathan Saniti."
He rested his writing, allowing the spell to work. Just as he'd hoped, nearly all of his scrawlings came out opposite of what he had written. All except one minor detail; the name at the end did not sign him as the author, but the caster of the spell.
"The Stranger."
Nathan may have temporarily lost his powers, but his knowledge of the workings of magic remained. He blew on the ink to assist it in the drying process. As it solidified, it transformed one final time:
"Phineas Dillinger."
Absolute rage engulfed Nathan. "The Brothers Dillinger shall know my wrath." Such was the depths of his hate that the spell he was under forced him to skip happily through Charlotte, North Carolina all the way to Pure Class Arena. Yeah. Cuz he didn't turn heads anyways.
