The Depths
Posted: Sun Jul 11, 2010 6:13 pm
This is a story I've just dug out from my documents, where it has lain forgotten for over a year, I believe. That's why it's nowhere near finished. It's written in my typical mini story style - paragraphs seperated by lines, first person.
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Where is everyone? I wondered as I wandered the halls where they had once been. It was only a minute ago that they’d been full of people milling around the ancient remains of the castle, now restored to near working order to act as a tourist attraction.
They couldn’t have just vanished into thin air, surely not. That would defy rationality. Although I wouldn’t put much stock on rationality, not with the weird signs about time. Generally babies don’t tend to vanish from cots without someone waking up. And people don’t normally drop dead in the middle of the street, at least without any cause of death. Not even the CDC in Atlanta could find any cause, and they were the best.
So, there I was, wandering the castle. It was eerie, the silence. The last time it was this silent in this condition would have been the Great (although I’m sure the victims wouldn’t have thought so) plague. Then it had been burnt down, to scourge all remaining traces of the plague from it.
Still no signs of humans, I thought, as I descended down the spiral stairs to the lower levels. I intended to get the hell out of here, then return with a decent level of security. The place would be swamped with government officials quite soon (yes, the British Paranormal Division are quick and effective, unlike the rest of government), but I was the only one who hadn’t disappeared, so I likely held the key. Or I was the key.
I exited the castle through the normal way, glancing to check that there wasn’t anyone in the ticket booth. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t. It seemed that everyone had disappeared, stolen away to some shadow realm by Daemons or Faeries.
Sprinting across the courtyard, I headed for the exit, only to find that the Portcullis had been locked down securely, and the gates had been closed. That didn’t present much of a problem, except it meant that I’d have to exit via the dungeons. Understandably, I didn’t really want to, with the disappearance of everyone and a possible invasion of Earth looming over my head, but it was a choice between waiting here doing nothing, and quite possibly being attacked, or facing the darkness, and quite possibly being attacked, in a bid for freedom.
I chose to face the darkness. But I wasn’t going to go unequipped. In restoring the castle, they’d also restored the armoury, which I headed to promptly. If I was going to have to kick some rogue Faerie butt or some corporeal Daemons, I wasn’t going to go unequipped. I’d also need illumination, so I tried my torch. It didn’t work. I also tried some of the computer terminals. They didn’t work either. All the modern technology had gone dead –ouch, wrong word, I meant they didn’t work- so I was have to go with good old flaming torches.
Armed with several daggers I’d grabbed from the armoury, plus a short spear and a few short good flaming torches (of which only one was lit, the others were spares) I descended into the depths. I’d considered taking chain mail, but that would have weighed me down to much.
I knew at once that something was up. I felt it in my spirit before I heard the breathing ahead of me. It sounded like the breathing of a human, but the disturbance I felt showed that it was something evil. No, not evil. It was no more evil than a shark is evil. It was… inhuman.
The creature spotted me and stumbled out of the shadows, allowing me to get a good look at it’s appearance. It had the look of a human, but one that had died of… of the plague, and then had been brought back to a sort of half life by a necromancer, to live out existence as a zombie.
There was no way I was going to let this thing reach me. As soon as it was within striking distance, I stabbed it with the spear. Bad move. I’d aimed for the head, and penetrated the brain, but it carried on. This confirmed my suspicions: there was a necromancer about.
I had to move quick. As the creature lurched towards me, I pushed it away and off my spear with the torch, simultaneously setting it on fire. That’s the only way to kill that type of zombie: destroy the corporeal body. It stumbled away back into the darkness, the flames attracting more of the dead.
I tried to escape back to the surface, only to find my way blocked by a rock that wasn’t there before. I was on my own down here, with the dead getting closer. This called for a better way of dispersing of the dead than what I‘d used before.
Remembering something I’d read in Max Brooks Zombie Survival Guide (not considered to be a reliable textbook on warfare against the living dead) I climbed onto a ledge which was near the ceiling. The dead would not be able to reach me up here, at least not before they were Carbon dust.
__________________________________________
Where is everyone? I wondered as I wandered the halls where they had once been. It was only a minute ago that they’d been full of people milling around the ancient remains of the castle, now restored to near working order to act as a tourist attraction.
They couldn’t have just vanished into thin air, surely not. That would defy rationality. Although I wouldn’t put much stock on rationality, not with the weird signs about time. Generally babies don’t tend to vanish from cots without someone waking up. And people don’t normally drop dead in the middle of the street, at least without any cause of death. Not even the CDC in Atlanta could find any cause, and they were the best.
So, there I was, wandering the castle. It was eerie, the silence. The last time it was this silent in this condition would have been the Great (although I’m sure the victims wouldn’t have thought so) plague. Then it had been burnt down, to scourge all remaining traces of the plague from it.
Still no signs of humans, I thought, as I descended down the spiral stairs to the lower levels. I intended to get the hell out of here, then return with a decent level of security. The place would be swamped with government officials quite soon (yes, the British Paranormal Division are quick and effective, unlike the rest of government), but I was the only one who hadn’t disappeared, so I likely held the key. Or I was the key.
I exited the castle through the normal way, glancing to check that there wasn’t anyone in the ticket booth. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t. It seemed that everyone had disappeared, stolen away to some shadow realm by Daemons or Faeries.
Sprinting across the courtyard, I headed for the exit, only to find that the Portcullis had been locked down securely, and the gates had been closed. That didn’t present much of a problem, except it meant that I’d have to exit via the dungeons. Understandably, I didn’t really want to, with the disappearance of everyone and a possible invasion of Earth looming over my head, but it was a choice between waiting here doing nothing, and quite possibly being attacked, or facing the darkness, and quite possibly being attacked, in a bid for freedom.
I chose to face the darkness. But I wasn’t going to go unequipped. In restoring the castle, they’d also restored the armoury, which I headed to promptly. If I was going to have to kick some rogue Faerie butt or some corporeal Daemons, I wasn’t going to go unequipped. I’d also need illumination, so I tried my torch. It didn’t work. I also tried some of the computer terminals. They didn’t work either. All the modern technology had gone dead –ouch, wrong word, I meant they didn’t work- so I was have to go with good old flaming torches.
Armed with several daggers I’d grabbed from the armoury, plus a short spear and a few short good flaming torches (of which only one was lit, the others were spares) I descended into the depths. I’d considered taking chain mail, but that would have weighed me down to much.
I knew at once that something was up. I felt it in my spirit before I heard the breathing ahead of me. It sounded like the breathing of a human, but the disturbance I felt showed that it was something evil. No, not evil. It was no more evil than a shark is evil. It was… inhuman.
The creature spotted me and stumbled out of the shadows, allowing me to get a good look at it’s appearance. It had the look of a human, but one that had died of… of the plague, and then had been brought back to a sort of half life by a necromancer, to live out existence as a zombie.
There was no way I was going to let this thing reach me. As soon as it was within striking distance, I stabbed it with the spear. Bad move. I’d aimed for the head, and penetrated the brain, but it carried on. This confirmed my suspicions: there was a necromancer about.
I had to move quick. As the creature lurched towards me, I pushed it away and off my spear with the torch, simultaneously setting it on fire. That’s the only way to kill that type of zombie: destroy the corporeal body. It stumbled away back into the darkness, the flames attracting more of the dead.
I tried to escape back to the surface, only to find my way blocked by a rock that wasn’t there before. I was on my own down here, with the dead getting closer. This called for a better way of dispersing of the dead than what I‘d used before.
Remembering something I’d read in Max Brooks Zombie Survival Guide (not considered to be a reliable textbook on warfare against the living dead) I climbed onto a ledge which was near the ceiling. The dead would not be able to reach me up here, at least not before they were Carbon dust.
