Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The sun casts its brilliant radiance on an unsuspecting forest far below it. Birds chirp and flit through the trees, as all forms of wildlife scutter about and talk to one another, making a cacophony of music familiar only to such a beautiful and natural place.

 

Suddenly that peace is disturbed by the heavy thuds of feet smashing the ground, and the pants of two groups of people; One group fleeing with all their might, whilst the other is in vehement and bloodthirsty pursuit. One of the pursuers lifts what appears to be an old Winchester XPR (Bolt-Action Rifle), and takes a shot at the back of a young fleeing boy. The bullet lands true, and the boy falls to the ground whilst letting out a heart-wrenching yelp.

 

The inertia from him running as well as the force of the bullet caused his body to slide forward by a few metres before tumbling to a stop, unmoving. For those fleeing it seemed as if time had slowed to an extreme. They saw as the bullet penetrated him, the pain and despair in his eyes, the hopelessness as life drained from his body. “TOSKAAAAAAAAAAA-” a burly man, who appeared to be his father yelled out in anguish, which was quickly overtaken by anger.

 

The big man turned around and charged towards the attackers, with no regards towards his life or well being. He lunged towards Toska’s attacker, and grappled the gun out of his hand. He aimed the rifle point-blank at the head of his son’s murder, and pulled the trigger. 

 

However the gory scene he was expecting didn’t appear before his eyes. The raider smiled cruelly as he said in his native language of Hoa, “It’s a bolt-action, foolish farmer!” As he pulled from his waist his sidearm, a dusty .357 magnum, at such a close range there was no need to take aim, he simply fired three shots into the large man at close range. *BANG*BANG*BANG*

 

Like a lone tree in a large forest, the big man fell silently, tears staining his face not knowing how he died, sad that he couldn’t avenge his only child, yet relieved that soon he’d join his son wherever he may be.

 

“FUCK! DO YOU THINK THE LORD OF ANGUISH PISSES AMMO?!?!” The leader of the raiders asked. “If we wanted to end these foolish farmers it’d only be a matter of pulling the trigger a few times. Don’t forget that we want to capture these one’s alive, and that every bullet is worth ten-times it’s weight in Atums.” He reminded, slightly calmer. 

 

He then shouted out to the remaining farmers that were still fleeing, “We’ve killed your leader! If you wish to follow him towards an early grave, continue running. However, if you want a chance at life then stop at once!” 

 

When the farmers heard this, they faltered, however after a quick glance at one another they all decided to keep running even if it meant being gunned down by these raiders. Perhaps before the leader of the bandits shouted out they might’ve surrendered, but after hearing the words, Lord of Anguish, they knew there’d be no chance of survival. 

 

Even in a small farming community like theirs, the name of The Cannibals Of Anguish, that cultishly worshipped the Lord of Misery, and his Prophet Denois was notorious.  

 

After a small amount of deliberation they all picked up speed, that is except for one old man, who stopped and turned to face the raiders. Hands raised in surrender as he slowly kneeled to the floor. 

 

The farmers were shocked when they glanced back. However they couldn’t worry about anyones safety other than their own in such a precarious situation. They couldn’t be blamed, what’s more important than life? How can you protect others without even the ability to protect yourself? They gritted their teeth and pumped their arms and legs as fast and strong as they could muster. Hoping to pull enough distance from their pursuers to get away.

 

“SPLIT UP!” The old man who’d surrendered yelled out. “That’s the last thing this old man can do for you all, the rest is up to The Architect!” After that he shut his mouth and closed his eyes, awaiting whatever fate may come to him, he’d made his peace.

 

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The farmers, as if electrified by a sudden insight, scattered, and spread like the sands of the desert. Flitting between the trees and quickly building distance between themselves and the raiders.

 

“FUCK THIS OLD MAN!!” the raider who’d previously killed both Toska and his Father said, as he levelled his old remington with the head of the elder. “Denomas!” The leader of the raiders yelled in anger and exasperation. “Don’t you dare waste one more bullet!” “But, Chief!” Denomas cried with indignation. “Due to this old man we’ve lost out on the rest of this small flock.” 

 

The chief of the raiders looked at Denomas as if looking at a fool. “When we return to the tribe you have to seriously study the teaching of the Prophet.” “He says when one goes to hunt, make sure to not kill indiscriminately. If you take all there is to have, then when you're next hungry there’ll be nothing. But if you only take what you need, you’ll never fret over your next meal.” The chief recited piously.

 

Denomas, with an awestruck look gazed in amazement at the Chief. “You are such a pious and intelligent Chief! That’s why you are the chief and I the subordinate!” He exclaimed. The chief looked up at the sky as if pondering whilst thinking, we can count your ass kissing skills as top notch. 

 

*cough* The old man coughed awkwardly while watching this scene unfold. “Are these really the cold blooded murderers from a few minutes ago?” He thought. Only after the old man coughed did the seven raiders remember that he existed. 

 

“Old-man, you and your group cost us a lot of trouble.” The chief said. “It’s only right, every invention of the Great Architect has the will to live deeply coded within them.” The old-man responded calmly.

 

Hearing the words “The Architect” riled up all of the raiders. “FUCK! If you weren't more valuable alive I’d slay you where you stand, heathen!” said a raider. The old-man simply responded with silence.

 

“This is how it’ll work,” said the Chief “From now on you are a slave to the Skull Crusher Tribe of The House of Anguish. You will work until your death, or until we’re hungry, whichever happens first.” He then cracked a smile and released a heinous laugh that the other raiders joined in “Okay, go and recover the spoils!” The chief said as he tied the old-man with some rope before sitting down and relaxing. 

 

A few minutes passed before a raider yelled, “Chief! This one is still alive.” as he pointed to Toska

 

…

 

System: Host Vitals Critical, Initiating Soul Transplant Protocol

System: Initiating Life Saving Protocol

System: Initiating Emotional Recovery Protocol

System: Initiating Mental Shock Resistance Protocol

System: Host Saved; Welcome New Host: Toska! 

 

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