ZRT
The 'Yarch's Ass Kicker
- Joined
- Jan 27, 2009
- Posts
- 1,357
The log in the fire popped with a loud crack, small sparks shooting defiantly from the dying wood. The guttering flame barely cast any light into the cabin, no competition with the flickering red glow from outside. The light-haired man watched the fire, studiously ignoring the spectacle outside the window.
"It's time to go, Carl," the other man said. He adjusted his tie, fidgetly and meticulous as ever, then smoothed his hair. He looked out the window and smiled. "This one was very good, better than usual."
Carl shrugged. "It was necessary." He rose to his feet, tugging his sweater down. He rubbed his hands vigorously, then blew into his cupped palms, giving a brief flare of warmth to his hands that died almost immediately. "Rald?" he asked, turning to his companion. "Do you ever get used to the cold?"
Rald shook his head. "Not really. It's just one of those things, you know?" He crossed to the door, turning the ornate latch and throwing it open. "This'll warm you up."
Carl gave a short, bitter laugh. "I've told you plenty of times to spare me the act. You don't give a damn." They locked gazes for a moment, and Carl smiled as a red veil descended over Rald's eyes, a promise of murder, death, chaos bubbling up from his soul. "That," Carl said with satisfaction, "Is more like it."
He stepped out of the cabin and into the world he'd just remade. Magma flowed across a twilight landscape haunted by tormented wails. A short distance from the door of the cabin, a bridge of bones swayed in the ash-choked breeze, creaking softly as it swayed over the burbling lake of lava. Thermal gusts updrafted from the magma, ruffling his hair as he leaned toward the precipice, savoring the faint sensation of warmth on his cheeks. He glanced up at the sky as a flock of dark birds fluttered overhead, then spoke over his shoulder to his companion. "Go on, get ready. I'll finish this."
"I want to be there," Rald protested. "I've wanted to see this for a long..."
"GO!" Carl shouted, his voice taking on an unearthly timbre that resonated through the very air. Behind them, the cabin shuddered, then began to slowly fall in on itself. Rald glanced back, then up at the circling ravens.
"Don't take too long," he advised. "This place won't hold much longer."
Carl ignored him as he began striding down the bridge with a determined gait. Rald shouted down after him. "Make the smug fuck eat his words, Carl!" He laughed and turned away, his body melting into a flowing shadow that whisped away into the darkness. Carl continued across the bridge, stepping onto the island still standing defiantly in the molten sea. He could feel it shivering beneath his feet as it continued to succumb to the heat and pressure of the lava crushing down upon it. A large, blackened tree sat in the middle of the island, and from it hung a man, shackled at the wrists, drooping limply to his knees. He didn't look up as Carl approached, studying his battered form. Vicious cuts and welts covered his naked torso, from which impossibly bright red blood slowly oozed. Carl settled to the ground in front of him, crossing his legs and staring at the man, who finally deigned to raise his head and glare at him with his remaining eye. "Almost got you," the man snarled.
Carl stared at him for several long moments, a vaguely sad expression on his face. "How many times did you save me out there, Roper?"
The man looked back down at the ground. "Too many."
Carl's mouth worked. "Fifteen. Twenty. I lost count. I did the same for you, of course. That was the job, after all. We did it as well as we could with what we had." He sighed. "It was pointless. For every fight we won, we lost two. Damnation, Roper, your people are counting adding bodies to that Celestial Ghetto of yours as wins now."
Roper's face twisted. "Fuck you, Carl. You told me one time..."
"'If the fight is right, it's worth fighting no matter what, win or lose' I've grown up since then." Carl said. "I know where we went wrong. I know how He lied to us to save His own ass!" The island shivered as if in sympathy with his anger. "Packing those fools on top of each other singing His praises to buy time! Telling us that salvation was right around the corner, that we could turn the tide! I sent children to their deaths with a song in their hearts for Him!"
Roper's head lolled to the side. "Yeah, now you just send them to their deaths for the fucking Prince of Lies. With your ghouls doing the singing. Order versus Chaos, Carl."
"Progress versus stasis, Roper." Carl stood up, dusting the seat of his jeans off. Roper stared up at him, his remaining eye widening.
"Carl. Just kill me. If our time meant anything."
Carl shook his head, staring up at the sky. "Your side broke the rules first, Roper. Say what you want about us, but we were following the damned rules. I have to make an example of you."
"No!" Roper struggled to his feet, pulling himself up on the chains. A bloody bone protruded from one leg, pale and glistening in the moonlight. "Kill me, damn it! Please!"
"I'm sorry, brother. I really am. But I have to do this. Have to let the ravens take you." He turned away, toward the bridge. Fluttering wings sounded over his head, triumphant cries echoing across the lake of fire. He didn't look back as Roper started screaming. The island began to crumble as he melted into shadow, flowing away into the sky. Behind him, the world began to shatter and melt, oozing into darkness.
***
He walked down the alleyway, frowning at the snow on the ground. Behind him drifted the sounds of people talking, sparse traffic making its way down the streets. Children were singing. Rald was pissing on a wall, aiming squarely at a smiling, beneficent face on a mural. He shook his head. "Do you have to do that? Somebody worked hard on that."
"It'll be gone soon," his companion muttered. "Did the bastard scream for you?"
"Roper and I were together for a long time. He was a brother to me. I would have died for him, back then. You? I'll be happy to see you into the void, you fucking demonic piece of shit."
"Hah! That's what I love about working with you, Carl. You hate me almost as much as you hate the job. So what's the name of this shithole again?"
"Pyongyang."
"It's time to go, Carl," the other man said. He adjusted his tie, fidgetly and meticulous as ever, then smoothed his hair. He looked out the window and smiled. "This one was very good, better than usual."
Carl shrugged. "It was necessary." He rose to his feet, tugging his sweater down. He rubbed his hands vigorously, then blew into his cupped palms, giving a brief flare of warmth to his hands that died almost immediately. "Rald?" he asked, turning to his companion. "Do you ever get used to the cold?"
Rald shook his head. "Not really. It's just one of those things, you know?" He crossed to the door, turning the ornate latch and throwing it open. "This'll warm you up."
Carl gave a short, bitter laugh. "I've told you plenty of times to spare me the act. You don't give a damn." They locked gazes for a moment, and Carl smiled as a red veil descended over Rald's eyes, a promise of murder, death, chaos bubbling up from his soul. "That," Carl said with satisfaction, "Is more like it."
He stepped out of the cabin and into the world he'd just remade. Magma flowed across a twilight landscape haunted by tormented wails. A short distance from the door of the cabin, a bridge of bones swayed in the ash-choked breeze, creaking softly as it swayed over the burbling lake of lava. Thermal gusts updrafted from the magma, ruffling his hair as he leaned toward the precipice, savoring the faint sensation of warmth on his cheeks. He glanced up at the sky as a flock of dark birds fluttered overhead, then spoke over his shoulder to his companion. "Go on, get ready. I'll finish this."
"I want to be there," Rald protested. "I've wanted to see this for a long..."
"GO!" Carl shouted, his voice taking on an unearthly timbre that resonated through the very air. Behind them, the cabin shuddered, then began to slowly fall in on itself. Rald glanced back, then up at the circling ravens.
"Don't take too long," he advised. "This place won't hold much longer."
Carl ignored him as he began striding down the bridge with a determined gait. Rald shouted down after him. "Make the smug fuck eat his words, Carl!" He laughed and turned away, his body melting into a flowing shadow that whisped away into the darkness. Carl continued across the bridge, stepping onto the island still standing defiantly in the molten sea. He could feel it shivering beneath his feet as it continued to succumb to the heat and pressure of the lava crushing down upon it. A large, blackened tree sat in the middle of the island, and from it hung a man, shackled at the wrists, drooping limply to his knees. He didn't look up as Carl approached, studying his battered form. Vicious cuts and welts covered his naked torso, from which impossibly bright red blood slowly oozed. Carl settled to the ground in front of him, crossing his legs and staring at the man, who finally deigned to raise his head and glare at him with his remaining eye. "Almost got you," the man snarled.
Carl stared at him for several long moments, a vaguely sad expression on his face. "How many times did you save me out there, Roper?"
The man looked back down at the ground. "Too many."
Carl's mouth worked. "Fifteen. Twenty. I lost count. I did the same for you, of course. That was the job, after all. We did it as well as we could with what we had." He sighed. "It was pointless. For every fight we won, we lost two. Damnation, Roper, your people are counting adding bodies to that Celestial Ghetto of yours as wins now."
Roper's face twisted. "Fuck you, Carl. You told me one time..."
"'If the fight is right, it's worth fighting no matter what, win or lose' I've grown up since then." Carl said. "I know where we went wrong. I know how He lied to us to save His own ass!" The island shivered as if in sympathy with his anger. "Packing those fools on top of each other singing His praises to buy time! Telling us that salvation was right around the corner, that we could turn the tide! I sent children to their deaths with a song in their hearts for Him!"
Roper's head lolled to the side. "Yeah, now you just send them to their deaths for the fucking Prince of Lies. With your ghouls doing the singing. Order versus Chaos, Carl."
"Progress versus stasis, Roper." Carl stood up, dusting the seat of his jeans off. Roper stared up at him, his remaining eye widening.
"Carl. Just kill me. If our time meant anything."
Carl shook his head, staring up at the sky. "Your side broke the rules first, Roper. Say what you want about us, but we were following the damned rules. I have to make an example of you."
"No!" Roper struggled to his feet, pulling himself up on the chains. A bloody bone protruded from one leg, pale and glistening in the moonlight. "Kill me, damn it! Please!"
"I'm sorry, brother. I really am. But I have to do this. Have to let the ravens take you." He turned away, toward the bridge. Fluttering wings sounded over his head, triumphant cries echoing across the lake of fire. He didn't look back as Roper started screaming. The island began to crumble as he melted into shadow, flowing away into the sky. Behind him, the world began to shatter and melt, oozing into darkness.
***
He walked down the alleyway, frowning at the snow on the ground. Behind him drifted the sounds of people talking, sparse traffic making its way down the streets. Children were singing. Rald was pissing on a wall, aiming squarely at a smiling, beneficent face on a mural. He shook his head. "Do you have to do that? Somebody worked hard on that."
"It'll be gone soon," his companion muttered. "Did the bastard scream for you?"
"Roper and I were together for a long time. He was a brother to me. I would have died for him, back then. You? I'll be happy to see you into the void, you fucking demonic piece of shit."
"Hah! That's what I love about working with you, Carl. You hate me almost as much as you hate the job. So what's the name of this shithole again?"
"Pyongyang."
