The Writings of Pyro

by **TheBardPrincess** Thu Sep 08, 2016 12:33 pm

The roaring of the mechanical beasts echoes throughout the dark hallways. The only light came from the dim, red glow of the walls, and the purity of my twin sister darkened as well. I was heading to the main room, what was once a pilot’s chamber before the black ring of menace, Storm Station, was abandoned.
In the pilot’s chamber was where my sister lay, quietly asleep. I’ve been on the Storm Station for a year, and for half that time she’s been “asleep”. I plan to reawaken her.
Ears perked, listening in before grasping my sword’s hilt tightly, I carefully look around the corner. Nothing was there, and the sound reflected this back to me. It echoed that nothing was here. And so, I carefully move my way there, making sure not to make too loud a sound.
My eyes were used to this darkness, but I still walk blindly along the dark corridor. I could never be too cautious since They blended into their environment. Crimson lights around the corner could be a monitor of their eyes, sparks from wires or mangled, metallic claws, and the deadly flashes could be easily mistaken for the lightning produced by the flying fortress itself up until you stop moving, pass out, and eventually die as a result of their metallic claws.
Half a year ago, just after the demon woman who helped me build the Railblade left Storm Station, it happened to my sister. While I was asleep, they found and took her.
They ignored me but took her.
When I woke up to find she wasn’t there, I panicked, running off to search for her.
Searching every corner, every hallway, every nook, and every cranny, I eventually found her. White fur stained black and crimson, stuffed in the machine that birthed these Clockwork Nightmares, where she remains to this day.
People have believed for centuries that you can’t bring back the dead, but damn it I would try! I built the nanomachines with metal shavings from the walls and converted the machine from its insanity-induced original purpose of forcing Nightmare possessions to virtual reality and life-support. I’d say that it wasn’t hard because I was just that brilliant, but considering that They were always on my ass at the time, it took a long time to even get the machine started. Still, once the machine had been started up after its conversion, it only took a month before she was technically alive. Of course, she was a sleeping vegetable, but that was why I included the VR systems.
At this point in time, with cybernetic implants to help her brain and heart function while the life support systems pumped shockra through her body, I was able to hook her up to the VR systems, to live in a world I created to calm her mind but also keep her mentally stimulated in a somewhat realistic environment so that she hopefully won’t go into shock once reawakened.
Today, I finally intend to take her out of the VR systems, for her to finally take her first living steps in the real world again. Honestly… I’m terrified. There are the obvious questions on if it worked, but I couldn’t help but think that Bonnie would for some reason be upset with me when she woke up.
I slowly round the corner into the pilot’s chamber.
The faintest color in the room, of flashing lightning, surrounding sky, and blood-stained fur all flickered off the blank screen and danced vivaciously in front of her capsule as if celebrating the sixth month anniversary of her death.
Ignore the lights, I thought to myself as I walked toward the capsules, “time to get to work.”
My left hand slowly opened the door bulging out toward me, desperate not to make a sound that would attract something to me. If those things caught me… if they knew what I was doing, my plan would ultimately fail, and I’d drag Bonnie back into eternal slumber along with me.
My left foot entered the machine, and I saw the conical port. How would I connect to it? It was a troublesome realization, as I took my next step forward and closed the door behind me. My ears were filled with breathing and heartbeats, both mine and hers.
I sat down in the rather uncomfortable chair, almost chuckling at this funny thought. Bonnie may not know it, but she was probably more comfortable than I was. She had more cushioning, after all.
In the end, it would have to happen. No other ideas worked out. I felt the nanomachines rushing through my veins, calling me to do it, yet demanding I don’t. I looked to my hands… so dirty, from both the reviving process and keeping myself alive. Slowly, I reached out to the conical port’s tip. I held back a yelp as I yanked my hand away, it not only broke the skin, allowing the black blood to leak from my hand, but it shocked me!
Was this what I was truly intending for this machine? Hard to remember, honestly, but I was planning to do it since I was the pointy port in the first place.
“Breathe, Jackie-girl,” I whispered to myself, “this is for your sister.”
And so I did it.
Slamming an open palm down onto the cone, the nanomachines hardened too late as they began to tear my hand along with the veins and arteries inside into black, bloody shreds as if I was shoving it into a meat grinder. Lights began flashing in the large soup can as some nanomachines attached to the cone and others popped, and charred the end of the ebony stump that use to be known as my right hand, cauterizing the wound. Gladly, I wouldn’t bleed out while in the VR systems at least. Soon, the flashes were mental, on and off, over and over. I felt myself falling asleep, but I forced myself to stay away for as long as I could in fear of possible death. However, I was unable to stop it. For five seconds, everything was white. The last thing I saw before passing out was a red light at the door.

A fuzzy feeling came over me as I got off the hard, disgusting ground. Dirt clung to my fur as I stood up, but attempting to brush it off was a feat in itself. Eventually, it faded away on its own.
A cold wind passed under my right arm, and as I moved it into viewed I feared the worse. Yes, it was gone, and in its place a textureless black. I let out a deep sigh as my arm fell to my side.
A dark blue skybox stretched around my world, surrounding the trees with blue leaves, the glowing grass along this dirt road. Despite my attempts to make this world realistic, I surely went overboard with my attempts at artistic beauty. In my attempts to calm her down, I may have failed my mission. She must have realized none of this was real, by now, that it was manmade.
In the distance were two voices, one familiar as the fields of my home, the other completely new to me. Looking ahead, a pair of lighted blue bushes blocked my view of the world beyond, where the two voices interacted in friendly manners such as laughing and discussing things as if they’ve known each other for years.
I stepped past a violently crushed grapevine that seemed to have trouble spawning, to the bushes, and stared in horror, confused as to what I was seeing. I didn’t create him. I could have sworn no one else could have gotten in, so whoever this black and white bird was is a mystery to me.
As they discussed the beauty around them, and the crystal blue waters below, I could only ask… did she? Did she make him? I had to conclude that no, she didn’t, it was impossible. But I couldn’t force the thought out of the back of my mind as I was too distracted by the flattering descriptions of the world I made. I was so distracted, that when I finally snapped out of it, they were staring at me.
Bonnie had a confused look, a smile trying to form, maybe a little teary-eyed, but her friend… man, if looks could kill.
The two looked to each other, and I knew they were talking about me. And while they themselves were distracted, I began moving.
I take note of the curve along this virtual wall of blue grass, green gravel, and violet stones. I certainly appreciate the dirt texture I used for this path I crawl along now in my attempts to stay out of their sight.
My attempts at stealth helped only for a little while until I looked up to check on them, however. The bird, seemingly a pied-raven, stared at me. Bonnie herself seemed frustrated as she began to run, most likely to my location. An uneasy feeling took over me as I was frozen in my position, now just waiting for an upset sibling, one who should be thanking me for reviving her, to find me. Though I know that she knows her way around by now, I know just how realistic this world’s physics are. She wouldn’t be here for a while.
As expected, after a few minutes came the tired wolf of white, breathing hard and leaning against a tree to catch her breath. I looked up at her, unsure of what to say.
“Jackie, it’s so nice to see you… but what are you doing?” she was trying not to stumble over her words, though her breathing calmed as she slowly but surely weaned herself off the tree. She still seemed very tired indeed.
It was probably the best idea to not mention the bird yet, since I could just check on that later, anyways. “I was just coming to check up on you, is all. It’s about time to come home, Bonnie!”
Those last two words caused a reaction. Now Bonnie was seemingly confused, maybe a little upset. Not a good sign.
“Can we take him with us?” There was a nervous tone to her voice. She knew he wasn’t real, but she obviously couldn’t help it. I wanted to play innocent about the whole thing, act like I never saw them talking like he really wasn’t real. Man, what a lie that would have been! And to my own sister no less? Really, what I should say is that he most likely wasn’t living and that it’d be impossible to take him out, but I wasn’t even sure about that.
She saw my difficulties in answering and treated it as an answer to her question. Her ears fell limp against her head, which lowered in sadness. Having looked down, she finally saw my hand, or more appropriately, my lacking of one. The sacrifices I’ve made in reviving her were quite obvious. Truly, the lack of sleep, constant fear, and loss of Bonnie took a toll on my sanity. If it wasn’t the missing hand, than the look of almost pure terror she gave me when she looked into my eyes told me that she understood what happened. These sorts of things carried over into virtual reality, the look in my eyes having a darkness nearly indescribable to them. I closed them as I reached out to her.
“I’m so sorry, Bonnie… we need to-” The fur on the back of my neck stood on end as Bonnie began stuttering my name, about to warn me about something.
I didn’t turn around, I didn’t even open my eyes. I simply grabbed her and pulled hard, giving her a jump that would wake her up, yanking her from virtual sleep. I too woke up with a jolt ran up and down my spine.
Back to reality, I saw chaos unleashed in front of me. Red lights glaring at me through cracked glass as they banged on the barrier between us.
Pain quickly shot up and down my arm. I stare at those red lights in front of me, beating on the windows, breathing growing faster. And then Bonnie screamed in absolute terror.
All I remember after that was the steel hilt of the Railblade against my left hand. The blade extended, sparks flew, and a cloud of black surrounded my vision.
I woke up to see Bonnie, gladly alive but desperately in need of a shower as her fur was caked with old blood. She was crying. Her mouth was moving as she looked off to the side, talking to someone. Then a voice I recognized from the VR systems entered my head.
“She will be alright, Bonnie. After I give her a new hand, she will be perfectly fine.”
I tilt my head to the side, expecting the white raven. I don’t remember when it started, but I had a terrible migraine. My head suddenly felt like an elephant had tried to step on it.
“Oh, I see you are awake. Do not be alarmed,” the alien without a mouth had a black, glove-like thing in what I can only imagine being his arms, “I am only here to help.”
And then I passed out again.

Tyrant

“Are you ready to continue your training, my prince?”, he asked with his strong voice, a masculine figure standing before the young wolf. A human, he was, but also his respectable mentor and father figure. The wolf hadn’t learned much of what happened in Sliam before his birth, all his political rivals Queen Phoebe of Homocity and the Death Regions, and Prince Thomas of Johen and Solana Canyon, or his own mentor would tell him was that his father was assassinated when Xaoc was young and that because Xaoc was so young we was more a figurehead than a ruler. Only a week from now until he could officially take on the responsibilities as the ruler of Sliam. His title of Prince Xaoc would not change until he had a wife and heir, but he’d gain the power of a king.
The two stood a few feet apart from each other, standing straight as poles as they looked into each other’s eyes. The human loomed over the small, teenage wolf as he stood in the man’s shadow. His face was ashen with white hairs, as white as Xaoc’s own fur, his beard just as long, maybe longer than Xaoc’s head hair. It was a waterfall if Xaoc’s head-fur was a river down the back of his own head. His mentor was old but strong and wise. Not the prettiest or most handsome, but he was the only human Prince Xaoc of Sliam and the Snow Forest respected. Both literally and figuratively, he looked up to him.
“Yes,” the young prince answered after a few seconds of silence, “I am ready.” The prince never skipped a training session, dropping other work frequently so that he could continue his training. The man nods, turning and walking through the dimly lit corridor. Xaoc was intrigued, though slightly confused. They passed by the training hall, continuing down the toward main dungeon.
Into and out of the light from nearby windows, the two come to a set of metallic doors. The man stops, reaching toward the miniature gate’s opening mechanism. With a light clang, the lock falls onto the ground while the doors slide into the walls, an action that seemed to be caused by springs contracting to a point of rest.
They walk through the doors, into the dark chamber that would lead to Xaoc’s new and final training hall. The old man turned to Xaoc, “Reload the springs and relock the doors to close them.”
Xaoc nods, turning back to go through the doors to do as he was told. His mentor puts his hand on his shoulder to stop him, “No, my prince. You’ll have to do it on this side of the door. Otherwise, you can’t move forward.” Xaoc, having been stopped, begins to think. Why was he stopped? If he locked the doors on that side, his mentor would be trapped, he realized. How else would he close the doors, then? He knew how.
After a few seconds of silence, he looks to his hands. He steps toward the exit that loomed over him, pulling a crystal from his shirt pocket, before crushing it in his fist like it was merely a dirt clod. He then pointed the palms of his hands at the doors. A small, nearly invisible field of white plasma emanated off his palms, aimed at the doors as they were closed, pulled together towards his position. Finally, the plasma from his hands contacted the doors before they slammed shut. He then closed his eyes, touching the door to try and interact with the closest object beyond it, the fallen lock. Finally, with his mind, it soon meets with the door, hanging from a hole where the doors connect.
Xaoc’s breathing grew harsh. The doors were either too heavy for his telekinetic ability, the doors were filled with crystals of anti-shockra, or he had gone too long without sleep. He pulled another Feignite crystal from his pocket, entertaining the second idea as he slowly stepped away from the metallic door that seemed to be filled with shockra-sucking, as opposed to shockra-replenishing, Feignite crystals. After he crushed the violet stone in his hand, he stood there for a few seconds longer to stretch and yawn. This annoyed his mentor.
“Tired already,” his mentor asked in a mocking tone, “I guess the coffee you’ve chugged and constantly had made for you for the past week hasn’t helped your mental or physical states.” Mental state? Physical state? Was he suggesting that he was weak and dumb because of his beloved coffee that helped him keep the castle safe? Xaoc barked at him in anger, only making his mentor seem surprised, “Excuse me?” Xaoc felt the shock as well. His mentor had been growing tired of his recent attitude, and Xaoc only realized this now. “I’m sorry, sir. I guess I may be a little tired, but I’m fine. I can train today.”
“Are you sure, Prince Xaoc?”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“Fine,” the old man sighed, turning to continue their way into the dungeon with an apparent reluctance, “follow me.”

The dungeon was mostly empty today, excluding the human cries, whimpers, and skeletons lying on the cracked, cold stone floor on their cells. Xaoc and his mentor blocked out the sound and continued down the hall, but the putrid smell of blood, piss, and shit was driving Xaoc insane. He almost brought it up to his mentor, only to remember that he was human like these prisoners. He almost felt bad for the prisoners, as well. He almost spoke up about it, but it would result in the same issue. The vicious cycle only ended as they came to the end of the hallway, with two doors. Xaoc was led to the one on the right.
The room they entered appeared to be a cave. Stairs were chiseled into the floor long ago, cracked and slightly smoothed, eroded with age. The first settlers of Tristitia may have mined here long before Tristitia became its own country separate from France. After the castle was built, the cave became a training room for high military figures in the Monster Hunting Organization of Sliam. His mentor believed he was good enough to train in a place like this? Amazing.
They slowly walked down the steps, taking in the awe-inspiring beauty of the dark, violet sheen of the cavern. Weights set up in every corner of the claustrophobic, circular room, with benches on the right of the shelves holding the weights and either training dummies, targets, or punching bags to the left. The room was divided by a small river covered by a metallic grating. In the center of the room was a circle. The mentor entered it, and a door closed behind Xaoc. Though Xaoc was confused, he trusted his mentor, more or less. Really, he just wasn’t mentally capable of questioning the situation. His mentor’s expression grew weary, something told Xaoc this wasn’t going to be a true training session. He opened his arms, as the grate surrounding the circle opened up, revealing the rushing river water below him. He did not fall, as the grating within the blue glowing circle’s boundaries continued supporting him, saving him from the deadly fall.
“I’m going to ask something of you. Something I find difficult to ask of you.” He began, looking at the dull expression of the tired prince, almost stopping himself from continuing, “You would do anything for Sliam?”
Xaoc nods, unsure of the situation.
“Even kill?”
Xaoc nods, becoming worried as he notices his mentor’s increasing reluctance, dragging out the time between responses more and more.
“First, clear your mind.”
“Why?”
“Just-” he caught himself before he yelling, calming down, “please, do as I ask.”
Xaoc stands there for a bit, shocked, before doing as he was told. He closed his eyes.
“You would do anything for you city.”
Xaoc breathes in, as he begins to block his mentor’s voice out. He began to see a blue glimmer of light.
“I am your enemy.” His mentor said, only to see Xaoc tense up, losing the blue light for a bit. He proceeds to ask him again to clear his mind.
Waiting, Xaoc’s mind was clear. He saw the blue glimmer overtake his vision, before seeing the world again. A blue x-ray filter, he could see everything within range, plus some. It was a calming sight in and of itself. He was lost in the blue.
In front of him, what was supposed to be his mentor, was a black hole in the blue. He stood there, awaiting what would come next.

“Kill me.”
Xaoc snapped out of it, horrified, “I will not!”
“Do as you’re told” he demanded, sternly.
Xaoc cried out again, “No!”
“You will do as you are told! Wouldn’t you do anything for Sliam? I am your enemy, kill me!”
“I can-” Xaoc was frustrated, “I won’t!”
After a while, the mentor unsheathed a wing-shaped sword, and swung it at Xaoc, forcing him to at least attack him. Xaoc was angry, confused, rather upset in general, but now he needed to protect himself. Unsheathing his own wing blade to parry his master’s attack, with the frustration and anger his mentor had forced upon him, he proceeded to cut the old man’s arm off, and in doing so he knocks him into the water.
The old man hit the rushing water hard before he let out a blood-curdling scream while being yanked along the river by an invisible rope, slammed into distant rocks. The Feignite in the water seemed to be the only thing keeping him alive as the shockra-enhanced water mixed with his blood, like salt in the wound.

Xaoc lay in bed that night, fighting sleep as the scene played over and over in his mind. He only understood the reason his mentor put him through that after he had gotten out of the dungeon. A test of loyalty, to show what he truly held dear. He now had a new training hall, but at what cost? His father-figure, his mentor, gone. He was unable to let go, and now his mentor would be tortured by the rushing river water for what he assumed to be an eternity. He shudders, finally tearing up and crying. He had decided that he didn’t want others to feel that torture, but he feared one day that it would become necessary.
Laying in bed, he made his decision.
To rule with an iron fist. He would do as he is told, be cooperative, and force others to do the same. He decided he’d kill any number of people to protect his city at all costs so that they wouldn’t have similar fates as his mentor.

Entranced by the Christmas City Christmas Tree

There was a sound of a small explosion that Christmas Eve, as now Pyro stood behind a rather impatient Ace, who coughed and wheezed after she opened the hood to her poor, sad car. Waving the smoke away from her face, she stared at Pyro with a judging glare.
"Hey, the car was absolutely freezing to the touch, so I warmed it up. It was an accident!", he wined, offended to be so unappreciated. Ace just sighed, "Well, now because of you being so uncharacteristically 'nice', we've got to get a mechanic to fix the car. Again. Seriously, stop touching the damn car!"
Ace continued yelling at Pyro, who merely pretended to be listening, before finally deciding to run to the closest city. After all, it was a futile effort to try and speak to her brother.
Thusly, Pyro began the trek, carrying the chubbier wolf on his back, to the city he didn't know the distance to, name of, or if it even had a good mechanic within a reasonable distance in the city. After all, Pyro was faster, and it was only fair that she do this since Pyro nearly destroyed her car, after all. As he kept walking, he began to forget the cold air beating upon his warm fur. Instead, he noticed the trees seemed smaller than normal. Cars sped by as the distance between the ground in front of him and himself seem to shrink. At the same time, his speed was lost to lack of energy as he felt himself slow to a snail's pace. It only got worse when he offered to play a game of "I Spy", which got Ace to begin nagging about how slow Pyro was going.
"I spy a red wolf needs to hurry up!"
"Oh, is it m- wait a second. Oh yeah?! And I spy a fat bitch-"

An hour later, Ace noticed bright lights in the distance. She hadn't stopped her death march, nor did her expression lighten as she dragged a red, whimpering pup by his ridiculously fluffy tail. They kept their thoughts silent, even with the scenery trying to lighten the mood with the bright lights. It seemed the tension hanged on the snowflakes in this cold air, as Pyro hoped any single tree, candy cane, or colored light would brighten her mood and relieve him from his torture. However, this relief did not come. Maybe because the trees of the decorated forest were lacking toppings. No star or angel to go on these trees, with these trees now looking just as empty and naked as any normal tree as their beauty only dimmed in Pyro's eyes, due to that single fact. He began to feel the icy snow rub up against his fur, sneaking its way into his vest and skin tight, black camo pants. He yelped as Ace pulled on his tail for his constant whimpering.
He was eventually dragged along cold cement, as she walked onto a small bridge into the garish metropolis, filled with bright lights that seemed to warm the area up. It was probably enough to blind most people, maybe even fry a couple eyeballs. Pyro reached for his sunglasses, but it seems that when Pyro hit the ground more than an hour ago, they had broken. Of course, Ace didn't seem to be bothered by the lights as she kept her pace up, only worried about finding the mechanic. She was disgusted by the over-decoration, though. This city, which she learned was so creatively named Christmas City from a green highway sign that drowned in Christmas lights, was somewhat of an eyesore with all of its bright colors, and yet draining due to its red, green, and gold color scheme for every building in the nearby area. Reefs, tensile, and those relentless, god awful lights. The windows of ever store she passed held a "Closed" sign, a Santa balloon for your front yards that constantly laughed "Ho ho ho!" until it drove you insane, and various pastries on a table. Those pastries and the Santa were a constant reminder of the horrible things that Pyro told her earlier. She was a balloon, as fat as Old Saint Nick. It then reminded her of why they were on this fruitless journey, the damaged car which Pyro damaged and showed no sign of regret after the fact. And so, she yanked his tail, hard. Then he began howling, loudly.
Soon, she would stop. Everything was silent, excluding the endless "Ho ho ho!" coming from a nearby store.
"Oh my... it's so... so... beautiful!" She dropped Pyro's tail, much to his relief. "I must get a better look at it!", she exclaimed excitedly before rushing to the ladder on the side of a golden building with a green light at its top, that said "Petey's Pizza Palace", a pizzeria chain she's been looking to buy. How funny, to be honest, that she comes across this building now after noticing this beautiful Christmas tree.
Pyro, not wanting to be left alone, tried to follow after her. However, since he feared that if he went up the ladder Ace would knock him back down, he ended up going up the front of the building instead. It was a difficult climb for him, and the green light nearly blinded him, but when he reached the top, he found Ace. Ace was just sitting there on the ledge, admiring the massive, decorated pine tree with its angelic star on the top. Pyro was worried, but began slipping off. He reached out, and asked in hope that she wouldn't do what he thought she'd do, now that her mood seemed to be lightened by the sight of this deliciously magnificent tree, "Um... hey, could you uh... pull me up?" His hopes were crushed the second he saw her take off her boots, as she threw them at him, causing him to finally fall off the top of the building.
The mechanic could wait. Pyro would survive, she knew it. She just wanted to look at the tree a little longer. She was entranced by the tree.