Origin of the Excorsist

I stood at the gate looking across the ravine. The faceless warriors gathered, swarming like ants to honey, attacking the bridge, defending the bridge. There was no way we would be able to defend the fort. True we had the advantage, but were were outnumbered three hundred to dearly five thousand. This was not war, it was slaughter.

I turned, rushing back into the keep I had to face the Elders. Fear gripped my soul as I made my way through the darkened halls to the chamber where the Elders resided. It was darker then usual, the stars that dotted the ceiling seemed to be fading. They looked at me in silence as I reported in a firm and certain voice that all was lost. I knew I sounded strong, but inside I was falling apart. It was over. The years of war, he constant struggle to survive... We had lost. If the Elders could escape, the royal family... If I could get them out, get them to safety then at least our people would stand a chance at a new beginning. At least I would die knowing I had done all that could be done.

I guided them quickly into the catacombs beneath the fort. Five. I had managed to collect and save five, the Elders, the Prophet, and the girl who was our last hope the living embodiment of all of our power and knowledge. I was gripped by guild know that my men, my comrades were spilling their lives, their blood seeping into the ground above our heads. I was conflicted. I longed to follow the five into the next realm, to live. But I could not bear the thought of leaving the men who had trusted in me to lead them. I was their commander. Their rallying call. THe calm they looked to in the chaos. I knew the battle was lost, but as I watched the last of the five slip through the veil I knew what I had to do. There was no choice. This evil could not be allowed to reach beyond this world.

I took every bit of might I had and smashed away at the arch until it crumbled, the doorway destroyed. It was done. I was trapped, and I was not going to die a coward.

I rushed back to the gates, surveying the bridge across the chasm one last time. I had always loved the view. The sharp lines climbing endlessly into the void, their peeks swallowed by the atmosphere. I glanced back at the fort, the impenetrable work had been carved room by room, each detail from the solid face of the mountain, slowly consuming it in it's entirety over the centuries. Never a brick had been laid. Each cut made in it's perceive perfection. From the catacombs below to the single tower that faded into the mist above, we had created the perfect dwelling for our people. 

Untainted, and unchanged until the darkness came. 

We had battled the darkness, protecting the other words from the demons that survived as they crawled through the void. We came in the forms of spirits and strangers, banishing the darkness back to the other world. But something changed. The dwellers in the world we had long protected had always feared the darkness, had always ran from it, warded it away. They sometimes mistook us for the monsters they feared and burned us, sometimes for the angles they cherished and worshiped us. We were none of those things. We were warriors whose own words had fallen to the darkness more than a million years ago. It had swallowed our land, taken our sky. Left us with this final stronghold. This fortress from where we continued to fight the shadow by containing in the decaying world. We knew our time was limited and we accepted that soon we would fade into the void. Our only goal was to take the darkness with us.

And now it was over. 

I stood atop the gate looking down at the bridge, at the chasm cutting deep into the earth, fading into darkness. The army of monsters ever growing, forcing life into the fallen corpses of my comrades and turning them to face their brothers. I believe humans see our world in their dreams, as they speak of this black magic. They call them Zombies. But they are so much more terrifying then what the humans think. 

We were protecting them, protecting the humans. We had sent our last hope into that world in the hopes that we could continue to live on. 
Humans have evolved so much. They no longer burn our flesh for our way of life, they have come to trust us, calling on us in their fear and desperation. They thinks we are like them. They give us names, some kind, and some, innocently cruel. They took a fascination with us and tried to open the gate between our worlds, calling it a game. A Seance. And we lost our footing. They began to rip tiny holes in the universe, calling it Science, and we lost the war. They point at each other and scream conspiracy. They cry for God, and then deny him. But the elders believe that soon the humans will transcend, that soon they will become like us, as once we were like them. It is for that future that we are fighting today,
To send our knowledge and the hope that in some small part our race can survive that we are going to stand to the bitter end and defend them. 

I took a deep breath and screamed out, calling that the passage is destroyed and that we will all meet in the next life. I shout that I am proud of my sacrifice and that we will live to see another crimson dawn because we have the will to survive. 
I jumped from the battlements, knowing that even the slightest miscalculation would spell my death, but knowing that if I was careful their will to fight would return. Such a simple act could do so much. Perhaps we were not all that different from the humans after all.

The smell of blood and death filled the air as I fought my way to the front. The ground shook from the force of the battle, quaking from the intense use of power, and out fortress, our home, began to crack. Fire danced through consuming all that would burn. I knew it was our own guard that had chosen to burn our history, our records, anything the darkness could use. I knew it was the right thing, but I still felt the pain of the loss. 

We were so few in numbers bu the time the smoke began to fade, leaving behind a thick smell of devastation, ash floating from above like a deathly snow. There were five, no four of us backed against the gate. I could not tell how many were still scattered through the chaos desperate to banish as many demons as possible before their own lives ran out.

Two of us, the gate was about to give way, but at least there was nothing in the fortress they could steal or tarnish, nothing but memories.

They grabbed me, dragging me to the top of the gate again. It was over. I had lost my footing and now it was over.
I began to laugh, at first that terrified me. The sick desperate laughter that spilled from my gut like vomit. But it grew stronger. They won. There was nothing we could do, our lives had ended, our words had been sick, dying for years. 
But we still had a victory. We had sent our knowledge and our Elders to another plain. There was still a way to defeat this darkness, it would never conquer the universe.

I laughed louder. They had won, but it was far from over. Our slowly dying race had sent the greatest power in existence to the strongest, most innovative, and adaptable creatures.

It was pathetic, humorous even, that they took such pride in capturing me, in standing me before the small handful of warriors who still struggled on. My laughter now was hysterical. As if taken by madness I let it pour out, echoing through he chasm and ringing through the mountains. It was a strong, arrogant triumphant cry of insanity. And I reveled in the sound, seeing them shift uncertainly, seeing the few dozen who survived salute their general and take advantage of the confusion, I laughed as the cold steel met the back of my neck...



I woke with a sharp breath; that dream again. That Godforsaken dream that started the day I dared to look into the shadow that followed me why it was there. That shadow that whispered to me in my dreams. The one that helped me to close the doors.

The one who had trained me.

The dreams are just a part of what I am. I feel as though perhaps they are a faded memory of a past life, that the shadowy figure is the Prophet, as it often warns me of the dangers ahead before I enter a house or face a victim. I dream this every time I am preparing to do battle with the otherworldly. And maybe that is just normal. I have heard a similar story once, though I have never actually met another like me. But despite my solitude I know I am not the only one who knows of these things. After all there are many exorcists in this world... 

Reviews

[R Smith]

Well Kitalia, what can I say, its another marvelous work from your seemingly endless imagination, i was so engrossed in the story of the battle and its end that i forgot we were looking for an exorcist, so that final moment shook me as you turned the battle into the dream of a man about to face the demon enemy of possession, I love this, you keep on delighting me with your stories, thank you :)

[Kitalia Emme]

Thank you! I'm glad that you enjoy this :) I hope to bring you many many more works.

[R Smith]

bring it on Kit Kat :)

[Kitalia Emme]

I will do my best. NaNoWriMo in just a fer days.