Fall. October 16, 20XX.
What lies beneath the surface?
What hovered beyond their heads?
There was little to be curious about in Allen's head, his humble opinion; people idly let time pass by, unaware of the life that we hold slowly dwindling in the process.
"No, perhaps," Allen paused, struggling to articulate his words for this essay that he had to submit for one of his many midterms. "We intentionally allow ourselves to be ignorant." Speaking to himself allowed him to better formulate what he wished to convey.
His feelings, both abundant and hazy, were planted into the keys of his computer, the constant clicking of the keys mashing together to create the essay.
But he stopped writing suddenly, his mind blanking out. Allen sighed, his face scrunching together.
"Fuckkk…" Muttering to himself, Allen let out a curse.
If he was being frank and honest, he didn't particularly care about this essay that he had to submit to his teacher. Despite it being a midterm and it being integral for his grade, he truly didn't harbor any ambition or drive to achieve great excellence.
"But…" His words trailed along, becoming little and nothing. He pondered for a moment, his head empty.
Knock! Knock!
Allen turned his head towards his door. "Come in." He saw the door open, revealing a woman with a streak of black hair flowing down to her sides; she wasn't particularly beautiful—average was the word. And her eyes were a dark, putrid brown.
Emille Luther.
"I'm going out," his sister told him. "Friends, obviously." She clarified at the end.
Allen hummed in response.
He didn't really get why she decided to tell him her plans. She was under no obligation to do so. Still, he shrugged it off as though it was a coat that needed to be put down.
He heard the footsteps of Emille draw away from beyond the door. Drawing out another sigh, expelling it from his mouth, Allen couldn't help but lean back, emitting a gaze to the ceiling of his room.
"This is the life we must lead now," he quietly muttered to himself, the fresh light of the moon gently kissing his face before he felt the need to close the blinds.
Grumble—!
His face fell as he felt the sensation of hunger cloud his stomach whole. Getting up from his chair, he decided he'd continue his essay later in the night.
Allen walked into the quiet corridor of their household, the wood that emitted a delicate warmth enveloped the soles of his feet that was covered in white socks.
The immediate vicinity was enveloped by this putrid darkness, with not a single ounce of desiring light.
Allen frowned, a sense of longing and reminisce cladding his head and heart. His lips, neutral and indifferent, quickly stretched downwards to a soft frown.
Everything was just so empty, like a shell of its own self.
Walking to the kitchen, Allen sauntered to the fridge and opened it. The fresh light of the fridge contrasted with the darkness from behind him.
"There is absolutely nothing here."
He bit the bottom of his lip, wanting this hunger to be satiated to the fullest. But since they were scarce on food, he'd have to resort to going outside and getting something from a restaurant or a fast food restaurant.
I could order… but going there myself would undoubtedly be much cheaper than ordering.
He didn't want use more money than necessary. Closing the fridge, Allen turned around and walked to the door to the house. Slipping his shoes on, Allen exited the household and into the fresh world that stood beyond the door.
Swoooosh…
A long, drawn out torrent of wind blew by, gently caressing his features before ascending to the heavens.
What should I get? He wondered to himself. Not having the energy to go to a fast food restaurant, he decided he'd go to a convenience store and get something light—like a sandwich or two, and perhaps drink to complement the savory flavors that a cheap convenience store sandwich would bring.
Entering a convenience store, he quickly bought his items and left the store as quick as he had came into it.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a person - a woman a bit older than himself - with flowing black hair that swayed gently under the whims of the moon and wind.
It was his sister: Emille.
He was about to go call out to her, but he froze all so suddenly. She turned to him, her eyes filled with this vast emptiness so profound that it mirrored the depths of an ocean.
Clack!
Her shoes clapped against the concrete, her movements clunky as though she was drunk and in control of absolutely nothing in regard to her limbs.
"Emille," Allen started. "Where's your friends?" He laughed nervously as she walked towards him.
But she did not stop in front of him, in fact, she simply walked by, showing no regard to his existence as though he did not exist at all. Allen turned to her, her back facing him.
What's wrong with her? She has never acted like this before; he's certain someone would never have a reason to act this oblivious and lifeless unless they were sleepwalking or dead.
It is said that curiosity kills the cat, but it also true that the satisfaction brings the cat back to life.
A distorted feeling welled up from within. It was beckoning him, compelling him, to find out the very bottom of this conundrum.
It was idiotic and stupid, to meddle in the affairs of others.
But…
I'm sure they'd want me to help her. After all, they are family. Connected by blood and their family heritage, they have this innate and invisible connection as siblings.
Biting his lip, Allen quietly followed Emille without raising the suspicion of others—he wouldn't want someone to accuse him of being a stalker that was in love with this girl that had no interest in him.
Soon they arrived at a forest on the outskirts of their town. His stomach slowly sunk deeper into this pit of anxiety and fear.
It was then did he find the need to call out of Emille again, not wanting to go any further.
"Emille," he spoke, muttering quietly so only she could hear. "Let's go home." He reached out to her, catching her wrist.
Thwack!
Instantly, his vision became a distorted illusion, his body hitting the side of a tree. His eyes widened, his face exploding with this agony that engraved itself into his cells.
What the fuck?? How… did she do that? Effortlessly, she had thrown him away like a small pebble being thrown into a lake to create ripples.
Crunch!
Behind him, the leaves of autumn broke apart from the footsteps of a person.
"Well," a voice, soothing and majestic reached into Allen's ears. "A new devotee, perhaps?" Allen turned around, catching a man wearing a black clergyman robe embroiled in a gold outline. His hair was a hue of murky yellow, and he began to approach Allen.
Allen did not mutter a single word and simply turned around and fled back into the exotic town that he was born in. But Emille appeared in front of him, and the clergyman appeared not too far away from him, wielding this supernatural agility and speed that exceeded his own perception.
The tight smile that the clergyman wore soon disappeared. What replaced it was a deep frown, harboring disappointment far too immeasurable to quantitate.
"No," he began slowly. "I was wrong. You are no devotee… but a lost soul." Allen discerned Emille from the corner of his eye, kneeling down as though this clergyman was a savior to mankind.
"Yes, that is right," he affirmed. "But… I see it. In your eyes, an intense fear and repulsion to the becoming of… your sister?"
Allen froze, not knowing how he had come to know this information. With just a single glance, this clergyman had processed and deconstructed him in a matter of seconds.
Who was this guy?!
"My name, you must be wondering my name!" His face brightened as a brilliant smile rose upon his unique beauty.
"It's Gabriel."
Then, his smile disappeared. There was merely this ghostly expression that saw through Allen's soul.
"It sad," he told Allen. "Had it been under different circumstances… you could've been one of us—enlightened, all-knowing, and blessed with the affection of the eternal." He grabbed Allen's neck, holding it tightly.
"But all we need is one more sacrifice."
"…T-to what?!" Allen barely managed to muster the strength to ask this question to such a despicable man.
"To summon our savior," he replied. "In… 'his' reverence, there will come salvation!" Gabriel looked at Emille, smiling playfully.
"Come, my beloved devotee." Emille followed Gabriel without question as he dragged Allen to an unknown destination.
As they flew under the woods, Allen's consciousness drew hazy and he fell unconscious soon after.
~~~
In the dead of night, with the overarching stars and the moon that shimmered along the skyline, it was - for a certain - a quiet night for many.
But, not all humans functioned the same. After all, everyone is fundamentally created differently from the moment of birth.
So, just as people may be eating their dinner, or getting ready to shut their eyes for the day and awake the next day anew—there are people who are outside, making various experiences that lit their heart, their world.
Swoosh!
In the forest, a gust of wind - a particularly strong gust of wind - swept the leaves that were lying on the ground, their colors starkly different to the flourishing green.
Allen slowly awoke from his slumber, his eyes blurry and hazy. But the smell, the significant scent of burning wood and incoherent noise jumbling together made his eyes become clear and vivid once more.
Allen found himself trapped, his body hung on some sort of stake over a pit of fire. He looked down, the heat drawing out sweat from his body, his pores. He saw them—dozens of other burnt and desecrated bodies beneath him.
His face became white, hollowfied.
"Help!!!!" At the top of his lung, at the very limit of his capacity, Allen yelled.
But his voice never came.
His eyes darted around and saw what was happening all around him.
Surrounding him were dozens of people, all wearing the same clergyman robe that Gabriel wore. The only difference being their robes were a clean, stark black. But Gabriel's had this golden embroidery that enchanted his presence.
"Hummmmmm!" They all drew a long hum that escaped their lips and disappearing into the atmosphere. The moon glimmered as the shine of its beauty magnified the event taking place.
"Allen Luther." A familiar voice came through. Directly in front of him, Gabriel - hooded in his clergyman robe with embroiled gold - appeared like a cult-leader.
"There is no reason to bad afraid," Gabriel told him. To his side, he held a book tightly, a smile enchanted by the gates of divinity spreading across his face. This enhanced his features, creating - what his followers may perceive - a lord, a young god or messiah.
"Let… me go!" Still, despite this, his voice never came to fruition.
Allen, though the embers of the desecrated bodies flew into his mouth and contaminated his lungs with the sins and hopes and the delusions and fears of the people who were sacrificed for these people's great religion.
Just a bit beyond Gabriel himself, he saw the empty gaze of Emille.
"Emille! Help! Snap out of this!"
But…
Nothing came out.
Just as his other attempts came before the one he had just attempted—his voice was long gone, abolished by the whims of the divine and true.
Gabriel tilted his head slightly to his right, the smile of a devilish man entrancing Allen and his despair.
"Look at the bright side, Allen Luther," Gabriel said. "As I've said before: there is salvation that awaits for you and everyone in this world."
Allen's eyes, filled with despair, was soon mixed with the incantation of repulsion.
All of this - everything and every single one of these people - was all so insane. There was not a single speck of a person present - not even Emille - that was excluded from this ludicrous and madness.
"Well," Gabriel's voice was melodic and soft, full of this masquerading innocence that he was trying to convey. "Let us begin with the finale." The hums of the followers dwindled, with silence ensuing.
All that could be heard was the loud flames that flickered and swayed from one side to the other. Then there was an eruption of enchantments, words of gibberish and unknown echoing throughout the ritual grounds.
Finally, it was Gabriel who began to initiate the final sequence of the ritual. Unlike the followers that hummed and sung with gibberish, Gabriel began to chant in a familiar tongue.
"The overseer of heaven and earth; the illusion and illus'ry divinity of the mat'rial w'rld; the eyeless chaos yond lurks within the shadows."
Allen squirmed, not wanting to experience any sort of hell or pain or death.
"With the blood of the mortal men, I appeal upon thee, Xogrothen, to bringeth us the comeliness of destruction and thy divinity!"
With an effervescent smile that was engrossed with his own insanity and delusion, Gabriel sung one more line.
"Bring us the promised fruit—bring us salvation!"
The hums and the delirious shouts and enchantments were replaced with the profound silence of Gabriel and all his followers.
There was nothing.
But, at the same time, there was "something."
Fwoooomm!
Gabriel smiled.
"…'He' is here. 'He' has come, to grant us our wish."
Allen looked at himself, alive and intact.
He could almost be glad about that fact, but it was then, when the subtle feeling of relief flourished within him, did an eruption of agony and pain welled from inwards to outwards.
He looked down again.
There were tendrils, its complexion made up of this mangled flesh that exuded a putrid essence.
Thwap!
Allen, without being able to say another word or even curse at the explosion of pain, split apart in two. The tendrils of profound existence floated upwards, aligning with the moon.
Soon, the tendrils began to expand and morph into something unknown.
"Ahhhh!"
The follower couldn't help but gaze at the enchanting existence that was being brought up upon them. But, in doing so, their blood began to race and their eyes began to bleed.
Bam!
Their heads exploded at the sights of horror being displayed in front of them.
The only person left intact was Gabriel himself. His eyes stared deep into the eldritch malevolence and might, witnessing the exact moment of 'his' descent.
"Beautiful…"
He muttered in a trail of his own awe. Could he ever see something more magnificent and divine than this? He wondered this wholeheartedly.
Slither…
Something slid along both sides of his cheeks. Gabriel planted his hand on top of his face.
"Blood."
He, too, was being induced to the madness of this deity's presence.
But he did feel an ounce of worry, an ounce of anxiety or the incitement of fear.
"How incredible."
There was only the joy of fulfilling his ambition.
A blob of flesh floated in the sky, blotting the moon with a putrid black and brown. As flesh hung and swayed, the world was put to silence with 'his' divine beauty.
Slice!
Gabriel's head was decapitated.
Slice!
The trees were desecrated, debris and all sorts of destruction occurring within the immediate vicinity.
Slice!
The small town located in the middle of the United States was plunged into despair. The houses were sliced in two. The children, the men, the women—everyone was killed.
Then it expanded.
To other states, to other countries, continents—everyone was meeting the wrath of an indescribable chaos.
The oceans split apart, the ocean life killed.
The screams, the horror, and the blood… the world was dyed in the blood of the fallen.
"Do you see it?" The head of Gabriel muttered as his vision was clouded in bloody red.
There was nothing left.
"Hahaha… hahahaha…"
He laughed in his own blood as Xogrothen disappeared, 'his' indiscriminate killing being fulfilled.
The life left Gabriel's eyes as his decapitated head finally kissed the last embers of his divine strength.
This was salvation, he would think.
This is judgement.