Liam Hall

Tuesday, March 30th, 2022 (8 days after the Shutdown)

After being accompanied by complete silence for an eternity, the monotone voice caught him off guard.

Stumbling forward, he was about to crash into the sand’s display case when a rough hand grabbed him by his collar and threw him back onto the path.

“Let me repeat my question because it's obvious that you cannot grasp simple words. How… the fuck… did… you… get… in… here?”

Rubbing his aching back, the familiar shadowy form of the Creature glared at him.

Black smoke swirled around it, sporadically forming limbs and then a cloak that swept the floor and then a spear, not giving any clue to what may lie underneath.

The only thing that Liam could make out was the Creature’s face.

Its eyes were milky white and gleamed at him with cruel intelligence. Its pearly white teeth shone like lanterns, juxtaposing the boundless void that formed his face.

His fear forgotten Liam leaped to his feet, hatred empowering his fatigued body.

“DIE!”

His vision went red as he charged it.

The Creature only smirked at Liam, completely unperturbed by his reaction.

Snorting in derision, it lazily raised its right hand to meet him.

Leaning to the side to avoid Liam’s swing, the smoke coalesced into a solid arm. Reaching under Liam’s outstretched arm, with a flick of its finger, it caught him in midair and sent him flying across the hall.

The movement was too quick for Liam’s mind to register.

Within a matter of seconds, he had cleared half the length of the hall, the Creature’s monstrous frame shrinking in the distance.

Crack.

His body smashed into one of the columns, fissure lines spider-webbing on the column behind him.

Liam’s neck snapped back, the base of his skull shattering upon impact.

His spine splintered into pieces, piercing into his lungs. Slumping at the base of the column like a rag doll, his eyes became glassy and distant.

A guttural cough shook his body and blood poured from his mouth. Voices screamed inside his head but he couldn’t discern them. They were just white noise in the background. He could feel them, his countless internal injuries. Another cough. His lungs began to fill with blood.

Liam heard the sound of steady footsteps hitting the cold tiles draw closer, but he didn’t bother to move.

He knew he was a dead man, if not by the Creature’s final blow, it would be from his injuries.

Pausing in front of him, the cold metal of a gauntlet pressed against his chin and forced him to look up into the Creature’s face.

“Look at us two, talking it out like best friends,” it mocked, his cold voice scraping the inside of Liam’s ears.

“But now that I have your attention,” it continued, glancing down at Liam’s bloodied shirt. “... Or at least most of it, I want to hear an answer.”

Unable to speak, Liam spat blood at it but it passed through and splattered onto the floor behind it. The Creature stared at the bloody spit, its white eyes hardening.

Turning back to Liam, it barely contained its murderous intent, “Well… that was stupid.”

With its other hand, it slammed its palm into Liam’s stomach, a ring of force ripping through him and spraying the floor behind him with gore. Liam’s eyes bulged in pain and a whimper escaped his lips.

Tired of the farce, the Creature released him and walked back down the hall. Liam’s body crumpled to the ground, a pool of blood quickly spreading from the hole in his stomach. Unable to move his physical body, he let his mind wander.

But it was just silence.

Suddenly, a cool sensation like a wet cloth blanketed his stomach. Gradually, he felt the blood leaving him begin to harden.

With a gasp, all the fluids trapped in his lungs vanished. When finally he regained control of his body, he turned his head to the right and saw the Creature sitting on a chair that it had conjured, staring at him expectantly.

A portion of the churning shadows that typically hid it, had moved onto Liam, knitting his wounds back together.

Is this magic? No… this is a dream. Another one where I die.

Letting out a deep breath, he stared back at the storm clouds at the top of the chamber.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“I’ve given you the courtesy of asking politely. Clear as it is, I’ll take it from you by force,” it said, reaching forward.

Placing what felt like a hand on Liam’s head, the cape of shadows froze. Pulling its hand away, golden strands followed, hanging from the Creature’s fingertips like spider silk.

“Come,” the Creature ordered the strands, his voice infused with a richness that wasn’t there before.

The golden strands left his hand and drifted towards the upper portion of the shadows. Watching them, they floated into the shadows, the shadows slowly resumed their movement.

As if reviewing Liam’s memories, the Creature muttered to itself in a foreign dialect.

Suddenly, it sat up in its conjured chair. “... Why is that there?”

Grumbling in discontent, Liam kept his mouth shut waiting for the Creature to address him.

It seemed like it hadn’t healed his spine, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. Where the fuck does he think I’m going to run off to? It’s not as if I can close my eyes and wake up. He’d figured that out during the week-long coma he’d been in. All he could do was wait for it to dismiss him.

Watching it sit back down, it continued whatever it was doing in silence.

“Alright I’ve got the picture,” the Creature finally announced, clapping its hands together and breaking Liam out of his ruminations.

With a wave of its hand, an old-fashioned quill and parchment materialized out of thin air. Scribbling something, it released the quill and with a hiss like the sound of a fire being doused, it disappeared.

“We’re done here. Do—”

“Wait, is that it?” he interrupted, remembering the entire week of torture that it had inflicted on him.

Its eyes narrowed. “Were you expecting something else?”

Shaking its head, the Creature relaxed back into its chair, satisfied with Liam’s mute response.

“You can’t be real.”

Liam’s knee exploded into a pulp and he cried out in pain.

“Think what you will," the Creature said, its warped voice filled with disdain. "... I will impart one warning as recompense. For what is about to come, the ones with you will only slow you down. Abandon them."

"...What? You fucked with my head and some nonsensical words are your idea of an apology? What the hell is wrong with you —”

Get lost,” the Creature ordered.

Waving its hand, Liam was swallowed by a wall of shadows and his world went black.

He opened his eyes to the familiar canopy of a tent.

“H-he’s awake!” a child stuttered beside him, scrambling backward, the tent’s door sent flying as he raced outside. “He’s awake!”

The Creature

He stared at the spot the boy had been, long after he’d been dismissed. His cloak was busy absorbing the last of the human’s blood, growing larger and more chaotic as it did so.

So even they’re interested.

The last of the blood had been wiped off but the warding column was damaged. He’d undoubtedly be scolded for that.

Waving away the conjured chair, he walked down the hall and past the relics, the nearest ones coming to life as he passed by them.

Pausing in front of the one the boy had activated, he watched silently as it continued to change, rising and falling as it continued to tell its story.

Searching around him, his eyes fell on an ebony spear, its tip pulsating red with murderous intent. Drifting away from the protection runes of the central path, the pressure of the room exponentially augmented but he waved it off.

The spear vibrated within its display. He sighed as it continuously knocked against the enchanted glass case, trying to reach him.

“One day,” he promised, his voice barely a whisper.

Pulling his hand away, he rejoined the path, deftly walking towards the north end of the chamber and the glowing portal that was installed there.

Conjuring an old-fashioned pocket watch, he waited, counting down the minutes until the portal flared to life. A whirlpool of vibrant colors swirled in front of him, and a broad-shouldered creature stepped out from within it.

Its shadow from the glow of the portal stretched out across the hall ending in two large horns that sprouted from above its temples and grew in ringlets like those of a ram.

It was dressed in formal military garb — though there was no occasion — and strode purposely towards him. Even having dismissed his shadow armor, the man was a giant amongst their faction. His midnight-black tunic was decorated with inlaid tourmaline giving him the regalness of royalty.

Briefly saluting the newcomer, he waved him into the hall, and the two set out at a brisk pace.

“Thank you for meeting me on such short notice, Commodore Greais,” he began, respectfully staying one step behind his superior. “I trust you read the letter.”

“You shared some interesting details. Are you certain of its authenticity?” Greais queried, his deep baritone voice thundering across the chamber.

“May it be so general. I took the liberty of parascribing him myself and the contents of his memories were sent in the report.”

Appraising that statement, the commodore twisted around to face the Creature for the first time. A constant bloodlust followed it wherever it went and during the length of the discussion, it spilled into his surroundings putting the Creature on edge. Lowering its head until it was level with him, the irises of the commodore’s black eyes grew richer shades of red as it barely suppressed its temper.

Flinching as the bloodlust suppressed its own aura, the Creature lowered his eyes.

“Where is he from?” Greais finally asked.

“A planet in a new sector called ‘Oearth’.”

“Never heard of it before. Sounds… interesting. Are you one of the first or were there others?”

“Others. The planet is marked.”

“...”

Turning to walk down the hall, Greais looked deep in thought.

“Whatever connection you created with the fledgling, scrap it. We’re overstretched and undermanned. The last thing we need is the wrath of an entire faction directed at us.”

Bowing as Commodore Greais turned to leave, he watched as the portal’s light flooded the somber room with warmth before shutting off again.

Taking one last glance at the relic Liam had activated, he stepped into the gloom of the chamber and disappeared.

In the silence left by their departure, the small artifact still hummed with life as its sands constructed one last image before entering its hibernation state, waiting to be called on again.

It was Liam Hall.

His typically impassive face was distorted in a snarl and in his hand he held a spear.

Gradually, the image began to crumble and with it, the deathly still silence returned to the chamber.