spiritmight
I don't get it
- Joined
- Jan 7, 2008
- Messages
- 176
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 11
Something I'm writing for some reason. Tell me what you think, and if it's bad, tell me what I'm doing wrong. This is only the prologue, and I'm not really sure what I want this to be about...
[FONT="]Prologue[/FONT]
Arcturus opened his eyes. A filled void, a glaring darkness, a horrifying heaven, a beautiful hell. Never had he seen this place before, but he knew. He knew that Chance and Fate had since cast their lots. The winner mattered not, this was the end. The universe seemed to shudder. It was as if the stomach of Eternity itself rumbled for sustenance, and Arcturus knew it would be provided. Then it appeared. Space-time itself folded, twisted, and became echoes of nothingness. Arcturus saw it, and saw nothing. All mortal abstractions made manifest stood before him. And it spoke. Not mere utterances as you and I communicate, no. When it spoke, the words tore into Arcturus very being, destroying any semblance of purpose he ever had. This being was Purpose itself.
Unto me your fate hath been delivered.
And Arcturus wept, tears of sadness, rage, and an unexplainable joy. He did not know it, but he was already gone, driven into an inexplicable madness, one that would prove both insignificant and essential in the events to come.
[FONT="]Prologue[/FONT]
Arcturus opened his eyes. A filled void, a glaring darkness, a horrifying heaven, a beautiful hell. Never had he seen this place before, but he knew. He knew that Chance and Fate had since cast their lots. The winner mattered not, this was the end. The universe seemed to shudder. It was as if the stomach of Eternity itself rumbled for sustenance, and Arcturus knew it would be provided. Then it appeared. Space-time itself folded, twisted, and became echoes of nothingness. Arcturus saw it, and saw nothing. All mortal abstractions made manifest stood before him. And it spoke. Not mere utterances as you and I communicate, no. When it spoke, the words tore into Arcturus very being, destroying any semblance of purpose he ever had. This being was Purpose itself.
Unto me your fate hath been delivered.
And Arcturus wept, tears of sadness, rage, and an unexplainable joy. He did not know it, but he was already gone, driven into an inexplicable madness, one that would prove both insignificant and essential in the events to come.
