originally posted in:Providence Ideas
He fell to the floor. He fell on his hands and knees and panted heavily. He looked up meekly and saw the gash spread out in front of him. He saw the black fire that blanketed the landscape, as if it were infecting the floor. He looked around and saw orbs of darkness beginning to form.
An ominous screech behind him told him that the door behind him was closing. He heard a loud boom and he knew he was sealed in with these monsters.
He struggled to his feet and pulled his sword. He felt it almost want to cut down these taken. He knew now what this was called. Sword Logic. He gripped the sword tighter. He intended to use this logic to his advantage.
He began cutting down the first taken that warped in. He no longer felt the rush of power from killing weak enemies. He cut down a captain and felt a weak rush. Interesting.
He fought for an hour, slashing at the taken. He had just finished off a wave. He was breathing heavily. He heard a bubble form and saw a massive shape appear.
It was a cabal, a giant one. It held a pillar of stone that began firing at him. He jumped aside into some debris, hearing the sounds of the weapon strike the pillar he was behind.
He ran out from cover and vaulted over the behemoth cabal. He ran away from the beast as quickly as he could.
[i]Later[/i]
He was hiding in a small crevice in a wall. He had been aboard this ship for four more days. He peered out cautiously and hopped out. He arched his back and stretched. This hive armor was excessively bulky and uncomfortable to sleep in.
He started down the hall. He crept silently along, careful for any hive. One thrall could summon hordes of hive just by screaming.
He came to an open door. He peered in and saw acolytes in a ritual. He crept in and hid in the shadows. There was a single acolyte in the middle. The others were gathered around him. They were chanting something in their screechy language.
The acolyte slowly began rising into the air, only a few centimeters. A green must appeared and began to weave around it. It surrounded him, then dissipated.
The acolyte fell to the ground, and the change was now apparent. His armor was a different color, his skin a different tone.
Ezkor slowly backed into the shadows. He crept into a crevice in the wall and crawled off.
He was a bug in the wall. But he knew the homeowner's secrets.
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But how could I?