Every time I think maybe the assassin thing is just a joke you post another prompt like this. So, you're in "Calgary" for the weekend and there will be no witnesses...? Do you even have a sister, or is "Sue" the name of your handler? XD [I'm not ignoring Empires, by the way, but Sunday for you is Monday morning for me and definitely not the best time to be picking up the monthly prompt :)]
Witnesses Past the trees the path split: one way, better tended and with smoother limestone slabs, led to more of the low, cubical buildings. They clustered together, and there were small signs of personalisation; things made of cloth at the windows, lamps set outside doors, and what might have been a compost heap a short distance away. The other path quickly became a dirt track, wide enough for three people to walk shoulder-to-shoulder and gently concave from use. Almost as soon as they were out of sight of the buildings the rocky landscape changed: the yellows became brighter and more bilious, and purple, coral-like formations stretched for metres, branching off like trees across the landscape and stretching out high, rounded pseudopods to the sky. It felt organic, directed, but inhuman; angles were wrong, shadows fell oddly and the sunlight seemed to be always in their eyes no matter where they looked. Green scarring in the rock became visible, shading from a greyish, bay-like green to a vivid, almost neon green with no obvious reason. Insects skittered around, chitinous legs tapping against rocky coral like a troupe of demented tapdancers determined to finish their last number. A large one, the size of a man's head, paused in a patch of sunlight and long, flexible antennae, more like an octopuses tentacles than anything insectile, tasted the air around it. Then, over the crest of a gentle rise, they found the first skeletons. They were the size of babies, half pressed into the coral structures. The skulls were strangely ovoid and there were three eye sockets, but they had two arms, two legs and a human-looking pelvis, and in all cases there was a metal spike driven through the rib-cage. Sometimes it had smashed in the ribs; others it had passed smoothly through, impaling whatever creature possesses such a skeleton. Samual shuddered and refused to look at them. "Changelings," said Tomasz after a while. He refused to look at Lord Derby or Tomasz. "Sometimes demons steal babies and replace them with imps." "You said people didn't have children now." "Would you?" There were several minutes of silence as they carried on, the skeletons persisting along the path to the Temple of the King. Then Tomasz stopped abruptly, and Lord Derby and Samual had to both stop and turn to look back at him. He was shaking. "We're nearly there," he said. He stared at his feet, then lifted wide eyes to them, tears forming at the corners. "The last bit... we have to walk past the Witnesses. You... you have to un-understand. They're not human." He knuckled tears away from his eyes, clearly angry with himself for his emotions. "They're going to look human. They're going to talk to you. It's... easier, I guess, i-if you don't talk back. B-but that's... that's hard. I know it's hard. I'm sorry." He turned away from them, and though his hands, clenched into fists, remained at his sides, his shoulders shook conveying the message.
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Every time I think maybe the assassin thing is just a joke you post another prompt like this. So, you're in "Calgary" for the weekend and there will be no witnesses...? Do you even have a sister, or is "Sue" the name of your handler? XD
[I'm not ignoring Empires, by the way, but Sunday for you is Monday morning for me and definitely not the best time to be picking up the monthly prompt :)]
Witnesses
Past the trees the path split: one way, better tended and with smoother limestone slabs, led to more of the low, cubical buildings. They clustered together, and there were small signs of personalisation; things made of cloth at the windows, lamps set outside doors, and what might have been a compost heap a short distance away. The other path quickly became a dirt track, wide enough for three people to walk shoulder-to-shoulder and gently concave from use. Almost as soon as they were out of sight of the buildings the rocky landscape changed: the yellows became brighter and more bilious, and purple, coral-like formations stretched for metres, branching off like trees across the landscape and stretching out high, rounded pseudopods to the sky. It felt organic, directed, but inhuman; angles were wrong, shadows fell oddly and the sunlight seemed to be always in their eyes no matter where they looked. Green scarring in the rock became visible, shading from a greyish, bay-like green to a vivid, almost neon green with no obvious reason. Insects skittered around, chitinous legs tapping against rocky coral like a troupe of demented tapdancers determined to finish their last number. A large one, the size of a man's head, paused in a patch of sunlight and long, flexible antennae, more like an octopuses tentacles than anything insectile, tasted the air around it.
Then, over the crest of a gentle rise, they found the first skeletons. They were the size of babies, half pressed into the coral structures. The skulls were strangely ovoid and there were three eye sockets, but they had two arms, two legs and a human-looking pelvis, and in all cases there was a metal spike driven through the rib-cage. Sometimes it had smashed in the ribs; others it had passed smoothly through, impaling whatever creature possesses such a skeleton.
Samual shuddered and refused to look at them.
"Changelings," said Tomasz after a while. He refused to look at Lord Derby or Tomasz. "Sometimes demons steal babies and replace them with imps."
"You said people didn't have children now."
"Would you?"
There were several minutes of silence as they carried on, the skeletons persisting along the path to the Temple of the King. Then Tomasz stopped abruptly, and Lord Derby and Samual had to both stop and turn to look back at him. He was shaking.
"We're nearly there," he said. He stared at his feet, then lifted wide eyes to them, tears forming at the corners. "The last bit... we have to walk past the Witnesses. You... you have to un-understand. They're not human." He knuckled tears away from his eyes, clearly angry with himself for his emotions. "They're going to look human. They're going to talk to you. It's... easier, I guess, i-if you don't talk back. B-but that's... that's hard. I know it's hard. I'm sorry."
He turned away from them, and though his hands, clenched into fists, remained at his sides, his shoulders shook conveying the message.
Greg - hah :P
Woo, this got dark in a hurry. Not sure I want to meet these Witnesses. But equally sure I'm about to anyway...
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