Remnants

Remnants Part 1

In the west, there is a road never traveled. On one side, there is a river a mile wide, and on the other, a dense pine woods with seemingly no life.  The road itself is broken from many years of weather, but this is normal.  The area seems completely uninhabited, a perfect place for scavengers to poke and find ancient technology.  However, the road has yet to see any visitors since its first comers. 

Breaking the rhythm of the river, footsteps are heard in the distance.  A man wearing a metal mask and a torn coat walks along the side of the road close to the river.  His mask covers his entire head, only with two holes where the eyes can see.  His dirt brown coat splits in several directions at the waist and flows down to his knees.  Over his shoulder he has a large sack being held by a string.  On his back, he carries a short sword, sticking out to his side like a quiver.  Not a single amount of skin is showing, even the holes in his mask reveal only a shadow. 

Over the horizon, a building can be seen.  A mile closer reveals that this is no building, but a barricade.  Another mile shows that this is no barricade, this is a castle.  The closer he comes, the larger the structure becomes, as it soon begins to tower over him.  No guards can be seen and there are no trails of recent activity.  This could be a great chance to find something useful, or something ancient.

Before exploring any further, the man puts down his bag at the side of the road and kneels down to think.  This is a strange man, always going into a trance like state before entering any structure.  After several minutes of silent meditation, he gets up and walks past the gates to the abandoned fortress.

The door is unlocked and flows open effortlessly.  Inside is nothing but darkness.  Pulling out a lighter, the man proceeds cautiously.  Proceeding to the center of the room, he tries not to make a sound with his footsteps.  As the light from outside fades with the door slowly shutting behind him, he is left in complete darkness with only a lighter as comfort.  With the door shut, new sounds can be heard, scurrying, a shifting in the dark.  Another sound rings out from the silence, the sound of a blade being unsheathed.  The man turns around, grabbing his sword and drawing it in one smooth motion revealing a horde of dark ghastly figures armed with bloody knives in the dim light. With that, the light goes out.

Without missing a beat, the man turns back and begins to run blindly in the dark.  Stumbling into a hallway with barred windows lighting the way, he sees safety hiding behind a door at the end of the corridor.  Glancing behind him, he sees only shadows pass by the light of the windows.  Many, many shadows.  He opens the door and takes only a moment to look back seeing a gaping mouth followed by a knife.  He shuts the door just in time to hear the knife scratch against the metallic surface. 

After barring the door with his sword, he takes a step back to analyze the situation. The small room he is in has only one window shedding light to the middle of the room.  There are two doors, one with a horde of creatures and one he dares not open, fearing what may be on the other side.  For all he knows, he is in the only safe room of this place.  But how long will it take the monsters to find the other entrance?  As he contemplated, a figure began to rise from the corner of the room, possibly awakened from the noise that came from outside.  It stood 9 feet tall, nearly hitting the ceiling. Its pale skin and thin physique implied a weak and starved creature, but it's eyes showed the ferocity and strength that was about to be unleashed for its meal. For a split second, the man stood in awe of the beast, then quickly moved for his sword knowing that pulling it from its place would mean opening the floodgates of another danger.  But he would not leave his sword.  Without a second thought, the sword was pulled from its place and swept around cut the outstretched claws of the beast.  Immediately following this, the door swept open revealing a dense darkness that spilled out on to the floor.  The creatures were thin and skeletal, with just enough flesh to be considered a living being.  Before the beasts could get up, the man fled to the second door, kicking it wide open and sprinting out. 

The chase was on.  The man dare not look behind him, for the stomping of footsteps was reminder enough of the danger.  The winding halls only seemed to go on forever, with shadowy creatures pouring out of every crevice.  He was led to a flight of stairs with a bright light shining at the very top, guiding his steps.  With every step he took, the darkness of creatures crept ever closer.  No matter how fast he climbed, the creatures climbed just a bit faster.  He was so close to the top, he could see the light, he could see his salvation.  Upon the last step, a hand reaches out to grab his coat.  He stumbles to the door and bashes it open, falling on the ground.  His fate had come.  However, when he looked back, he saw the creatures cowering from the light of day.  He took this last chance to shamble his way completely out of the door, closing it behind him. He had made it to the top.

Looking around to observe his surroundings, he finds himself outside, standing on a catwalk leading to a tower on the other side of the structure.  On his right, about a two-hundred foot drop into the river, and on his left is a second catwalk about thirty feet away. Just below him were many canisters of unknown liquids.  There was something strange about this fortress.  There had to be answers somewhere, records of some sort.  Before another thought could enter his mind, he heard a strange sound coming from above. Off of the top of the tower, there came falling what looked like a winged man dressed in a suit of rusted armor.  A large flame came from the pack on his back while his wings remained steady, guiding him towards the far catwalk. He landed elegantly on his feet with the grace of a dove.  This strange figure must have found a working relic from the ancient times.  Before a greeting was exchanged, the figure lifted up an unfamiliar peice of ancient technology and pointed it towards the man.

The man instinctively began running to the other side of the catwalk.  Fire soon shot out of the weapon like a stream of water, covering the catwalk behind the man in flame as he ran.  Suddenly there was a loud familiar boom was heard as a bullet ricocheted off of the catwalk near the man's feet.  There was someone else with a rifle hiding somewhere.  He had no time to look, as the man dove behind cover at the end of the catwalk.  He was just out of reach of the tower entrance, but getting up could mean his immediate death.  One well aimed shot could end it all.  But this was true for both sides.  The man reached into his pocket to grab a knife.  Looking over his shoulder, he could see the winged man hovering towards him while off in the distance, he could see a silhouette on top of the fortress.  Another boom is heard as a bullet scrapes by his face, leaving a gash in his mask. Recoiling back, he plants his head firmly on the steel wall covering him.  He had to make a move soon or else he is dead. The man stands up straight and takes a deep breath.

Opening his eyes he rushes out of cover and spins, facing his back towards the fire as his coat dances around him.  With a boom, a bullet comes shooting straight through the coat just barely missing his body. As he winds up, he sees the winged figure ready his weapon.  The man throws the knife aiming for his opponent's chest, just barely missing as the winged figure moves.  The knife scratches the side of his pack, causing a fluid to come pouring out.  As it leaks into the flame, it immediately combusts causing a giant flame to come spurting out of the side of the figures pack.  A short scream of terror and agony is heard leaving the figure as the pack suddenly erupts, spilling fire everywhere.  The man ducks for safety in the tower, and briefly sees a study. Another explosion comes from the containers below.  The canisters began spewing out acid all over the catwalks and spreading fire all over the structure.  There was no time to scavenge, as the ground began to tremble and the walls began to shake, the man had to escape.  Ignoring the possible presence of the silhouette, the man rushed back to the catwalk to find most of it destroyed. With geisers of acid erupting from below and the tower falling apart at the seams, there was only one other option. He hurled himself off of the side of the catwalk as the explosions demolished the base of the tower, causing it to crumble underneath itself. 

With the fires still burning bright, the soaking wet man picked up his sack and began his journey farther west.  There is no way of telling what he will find out there but that is just part of the journey.