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Celrdrrun Part 1

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Sci-Fi on December 21, 2009 by GuNNhead

After having proven myself against that Hellbeast, I make my way back to the central planet of the disavowed area, the head in tow. I go directly for what I need: information. My vitriol seethes.

I kick the door open.
“Here is the head of the Hellbeast!” I shout as I fling the decapitated remains on the countertop.
“So I see.”
“Now, what do you know of this symbol? It is of the one who destroyed my planet!”
“Yeah, I know that symbol, and that planet? Way I hear it, they were looking for something.”
“Who’s they?”
“The owner of that symbol, of course.”
“Tell me. Now.”
“Well, I only know of one guy who has that, a real tough guy, a vile pirate snake, you do not want to mess with him, though, he’ll kill ya before he bothers to look at ya.”
“Tell me where to find him, or I will kill you.”
“Eh, alright, alright, fair’s fair: info for a Hellbeast’s head.”

She gives me the coordinates, and information on him, and I’m on my way. Celrdrrun is his name. It’s said that he is impossibly powerful and ruthless, going to planets and destroying them, he gets his jollies by uncovering, saving and preserving the history of a civilization by destroying that same civilization. Rendering him as the only who can tell the tale of an entire glorious civilization, and how it was ended by his hand, in an epic planetary wide-scale war, against him. He’s a lunatic. I’ll enjoy taking him down. He wears a reptilian form of armor, the woman said it was similar to my own, yet altogether different. He’s on some planet, where he trains, hones his powers.

I arrive at the civilizationless planet, and leave my craft in a cloaked orbit. There’s an Orbiter there from The Network of Communicating Planets. They must be looking for him as well. I concentrate on my newfound powers to aid in my burning descent in solitary to the forested ground. I can sense his immense power nearby. It disturbs me to my core; it’s sick, and twisted. I can taste my revenge, so palpable, at the cusp of fulfillment. I will avenge a life I left light years behind.

As I descend, I begin to see small insects surrounding, converging on me, this new entity to the planet. Continuing downwards, burning through the atmosphere, I realize that they are nowhere near me, but approaching fast. They’re massive. My scanner fires up, locating and locking on to each of them, it makes them out to be some sort of massive horned kabutomushi beetle. My scanners quickly become overloaded, there are too many of them, too large; can’t get a proper read.

Visual is all I have to go on, and it’s almost useless in a swarm like this. One of their T-shaped horns hits me hard, flat, in the center of my back. Another lock horns with the first, crushing me ‘tween. I can feel my innards turning to paste between these battle behemoths in the mid air competition to destroy me. I take hold of their horns and shove them apart, pushing my physical strength to its limits. I fall fast as I free myself, having lost concentration on my limited flight, and become skewered on the horn of another one of the numerous other beetles. With blood flowing from the wound, I claw my way back up the horn hand over fist until I make it to the tip, freeing myself, falling off with a ‘thuck’ and the horn exits me. Unfortunately, I’m freed only to be slammed by another, sending my flying into the path of another, pummeled by horn after horn, being thrown around, down. The last one to hit me sends me spinning downward, flying into the tree line. Disoriented, I sling some well placed gravity spheres at the ones who bothered giving chase, exploding their heads clean off. I break through the canopy, and hit the ground below hard. Sticks, twigs, and leaves infiltrate my fresh wound. For a few moments, I lay there on the ground, bleeding, recovering, and separating the debris from the boiling blood.

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Breathe

Posted in Fiction on December 4, 2009 by GuNNhead

Breathe. Breathe anew. Take a moment. Do not worry. You feel everything. You are a creature of y our environment. You cannot help it no one can. It is impossible. You only exist in your current moment. There is ultimately nothing to exist because there is no moment, only moments that have passed. But this is not true, you have lived moments, they exist to you, in your own spherical realm. They exist in other realms, though. The realms of external Other experience. The realms to which you can only dream to imagine. They exist entirely outside of you. I am speaking of the realm of others who experienced the simultaneous conjoined experience. Their past experiences that shape their world view, and, yes, even their very persona, their ingrained “person”, to which whom they refer every independent iota of information from this global interface of media expulsion.

Onwards and upwards. There a many, many, many numerous amounts of those who cannot, can never feel what you have felt, for what has transpired to you, once again, can never be as vibrant nor vivid to you as to others, for their own experiences are tantamount to your own, much as yours must be tantamount to theirs. To love one more than yourself is a form of insanity I can never feel, for I have experienced the end within myself. I know of what is only acknowledged with fear or bravado. It is inside of me. Death is my internal organ. The heart. It no longer beats. All is one. A cell. My cell.

There are those who believe that there is a continual life after our corporeal form expires, and therefor do not fear what we have come to call death. It is comparative to calling taking a vacation the end of eternity. It’s simply not conducive to experiencing beyond.

The idea of ceasing to be is a concept that is difficult to fully grasp. The consciousness has trouble accepting or fathoming the absence of itself. We can’t have an opinion to the position that we will cease to be. To be. The mind feels eternal. To think of it as no longer being in existence is impossible, you cannot have an opinion on that, because you have no part in it. “Don’t be afraid of the future. It doesn’t include you, it only removes you.”

Consciousness is or is not transitory. That is up to you. Does your mind feel powerful enough to surpass the death of the corporeal? Do you believe you can reach a state of consciousness that can transcend? Do you think you can be enlightened to transpose your experiences into the ether. Purgatorium– based on the lack of will, a measurement of your inner most self. Wait here until you grow up a bit, maybe try again. You haven’t reached that point yet. You have become irredeemable. Suffer. You have lived your life, that was your reward. You have been found wanting. You are a saint. Language to describe a state of unknown; karmic scales to judge others. They’ll get theirs. Better you than me.

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Corulniath

Posted in Fiction, Sci-Fi on November 25, 2009 by GuNNhead

The are times when all must decide to become something that they are not, were not, to become what they are. One calls this the Corulniath. It is a time of deep inner reflection and progression. In this time, it is customary to separate yourself from all that you feel to be ‘not you,’, and surround yourself with what you want to take into yourself. This is what may be planned for the future, or what one has accumulated through life.

One of the elders recently came into via what none will describe. He, having been benevolent in his life, faced a sudden change. While some simply revise themselves, and take an inventory of what they have done, who they are, and who they plan on demonstrating themselves as from then on, this elder, in his time of Corulniath surrounded himself with nothing, and traveled far away. He returned many years later, revealing that he saw within himself a weeping demon, and spent years coming to terms with that inner self who sought to become the new man within, the exert itself outwardly, changing who he was. He embraced this vision, but only for himself. In this way, he kept who he was at peace, back in town, in society. Remember. Upon his Corulniath after his revelation, he found something inside him, the him he had come to be in his life. The weeping demon, still a part of him that he embraced. He sought to hide his actions while in that version of himself, in his return, he embraced who he had been. telling the stories of it.

Young people were impressed and frightened, could this sort of demon be lurking within me? Will it only show at old age after a lifetime of revision? Is it there from birth, waiting to be found? Discovery. Honesty. What is honestly? how can one be honest to oneself, or, for that matter, dishonest. One’s action is a direct reflection of who they are on the inside, that is all there is to it, that is all that can be of it. Nobody hears or sees or feels or experiences your thoughts, or regrets, or inner monologue, no matter how vivid and straight forward they seem to you. No matter how immediate your thoughts are, they do not matter at all to the outside world. you are who you appear to be, have no delusions in society. Only completely alone are you judged by your thoughts, and you are the only judge.

Our journey alone is one that is expected, and wholly natural. We are all born alone, and we all leave this life alone. One must take the appropriate assessments in order to be prepared that there will be a necessity for the mind to exist on its own, to create its own form of vision, and become one with all, taking into account only of the individual’s predilections, the only thing by which can judge themselves. The outside is made to shape one’s self against, while the inside is something one must form themselves to.

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lone images

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized on November 20, 2009 by GuNNhead

Batman strikes me as “being alone.” It’s like he just took out a mob boss in his highrise, and now he’s just kind of playing it out in his head how well everything went, congratulating himself while waiting for the police to arrive, because he needs to talk to Commissioner Gordon about another case he’s working on.
Batman
“He’s a reflection of the limitless possibility of man, and while some are dissuaded by him because they see egotism in that (These may be the same people who are disgusted by the pride of man) there are others who revel in it, because it reminds them “So what if Superman is Kryptonian and can fly! So what if the Flash is a Metahuman and can run fast! Batman is human! Just like me! And he’s awesome! So I can be awesome!””

Well, still look at him, he looks like a junkie, living only in virtual reality. He is completely isolated and alone, so he puts all his time and money into that game, completely living off it, eBay for items, etc.. It’s not a lot of money, so he has this craphole flophouse, or abandoned/condemned buildings. But it doesn’t matter, because that game is his life now. He’s a superhero there, it’s good there, he has friends there. He is alone. Is this not still a real life?
Wow

This spaceman died alone when there was a problem with the ship, and explosion. There were three survivors, all trapped in one section of the ship, due to structural damage caused by the blast. There was no food in their current section. They starved to death, one by one. After the first one died, they agreed to refuse to eat the deceased. The second died soon after. The third survived for months after that. He died regretting his decision of cannibalism. He wished he still had his honor. A distress signal was left on a constant rotation, a video, made by the final three.
“We are american astronauts. We’re ready to believe anything can come. In a vote, we have decided if anything can show that we are not barbarians, we have made a pact of honor to not resort to cannibalism. We are soon going to starve to death, for our country, for our planet, for all of mankind. God bless America.”

The final man also destroyed the video. The signal was shut off. He didn’t want anything to ever find him in the endless expanses of space.
Spacemountain

I’d love to be on an unknown desert island, just me. – I just found this raft a few months ago. It’s my fourth that I’ve found, they’re all quite old, but structurally sound. The first I found long ago, along with quite a few tools to make another. It’s never winter here. I was exploring the island I was on, having nothing else to do after being air-dropped here. It’s quite large for one man, but near the center I began to find relics of a lost civilization, ones that lived on these islands once upon a time, but died out, or something more sinister.
I’ve been exploring the other islands in this small chain, just for fun and the adventure of it all. I enjoy it, and that’s how I live my life. I’m completely alone, but I have myself, and though there is a feeling of isolation, I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. There are times when I feel that I may be searching in hopes that maybe on one of these islands, there are still these tribal people. What will we learn from each other?
Though it may rain, it’s still sunny.
noice

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The Hellbeast Part 2

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Sci-Fi on November 18, 2009 by GuNNhead

“Ah, the mortal returns in one piece!”
“Far more than I will be able to say for you. I’m not from here, I do not believe in this planet’s beliefs, and I know what you are, demon, and I will see to it that you are decapitated.”
“Oh my, yes, I see; far beyond mortality in ways unseen. However, no being is so far beyond the murder that only one from the Hellish Dimension can bring.”
“Let’s see what you can do, beast.”

It lashes out me with hellfire, and sends me backwards in a gust of flame. I slam into a vehicle. He shrinks to my size. He’s trying to toy with me. I know I can kill this thing. I pick up the vehicle and shoot it at him, then fire a gravity sphere to the bottom of it. The fuel charges explode on impact.
“I am born from the fires of hell! That was nothing, it was as a cool breeze to one such as I!” He comes for me with lightning speed, and pins me with one arm against the pavement. He pushes me into the now melting rock, as his hands sear my armor.
“I am born from nothing. All of life, even yours, Hellbeast, is nothing to one such as I.” My eyes fire a quick burst fire energy beams, and he stumbles back, clutching his face. I stand, molten pavement falling off me, his handprint still smoking in my chest.
“This should be easier than I thought, your powers do not match the legends.”
“I shall show you how these legends were formed; I am one from the Hellish Dimension!”
[Activate: Gravity Blade]
“Don’t care,” I said with a palpable apathy to my voice.

I attack swiftly, but without tactic. He blocks my blade with his clawed hands, empowered by the fires of the Hellish Dimension, my blade has not yet the power to slice through such a force. He slashes me across my abdomen with his scythen nails. My blood boils. Literally. The liquid bubbles upon the ground and from the wound.
“Boiling blood? And not by my hand, either; why, you get more interesting by the second, mortal. Your death will be a delicious treat for me.”
“I cannot die because I can hold no belief in my death. I am tied, tethered to the beyond, the ultimate end. It will be a pleasure to remove your offensive head.”
I fire gravity bullets past him, and quickly run up, and deliver an uppercut to his stomach. He vomits hellfire, and grabs me by the shoulders, tossing me at a large nearby stone structure. The pit from whence he came is near, I can sense the fluctuations in power. He comes at me, growing larger.
“I will crush you for thinking you can deliver such an attack on me! I will teach you the pain of the Hellish Dimension!”

I remain silent, and make a run for his legs, slicing them off. He slides from his removed appendages as the wounds spew more hellfire, forming into the cloud, spiraling.
“No! Don’t you know what you’ve done? You’ll pay for this!”
I stand on his back, with one leg firmly on the top of his spine. I assert a gravity field to keep him down.
“No! This can’t happen!” he struggles to get out from under my foot, but cannot, “I am the truth beyond the grave!”
“Yeah, so’s everything else.” With that, I lop off his head. His head rolls to the ground, shrinking; I walk over and pick it up.

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