07-09-2017, 11:04 PM
The infinity that was the twisting and churning of man's mind would forever go untold to all men, save the secret-keeper, Behemoth.
The secondary remained shrouded in the cloak-like umbral shadow cast by his mind, his bony build was that of an atrophied corpse covered in baggy clothing that drenched off of him as though soaked in water. His snakelike eyes were gleaming in the darkness, or rather, through it. The man was short had hollowed, ghastly cheeks, and dual shaded half-moons underneath his eyes. Yet, as his gaze darted from side to side, the monster began to get his bearings in this world of secluded nightmares.
He had learned to walk the land easily enough, for mind was king in this world of soulless phantoms and could bring the intangible to life.
Behemoth was mischievously seeking, his beady eyes continued to slice through the land of dreams. Some of the Astral land was created by primes and left there, some remained claimed territory. The scrawny secondary had the vague notion he was indeed trespassing. But he could sense her. The source. The purpose and reason he had just damned that female prime Christa to a fate worse than insanity. Eternal stone. Sure her attitude was... Less than savory, he could justify she deserved it, even. That was not the point. He couldn't leave any trace of the catastrophic memories behind. Not when they could be resummoned by a prime. Not when his secret could be revealed and used against him. He’d taken the most severe precautions, even then safe passage could not be guaranteed.
So he'd stripped her mind first of the truth, she had returned to her pre-prime state. A helpless, pathetic, angsty secondary. Then, he'd cursed her. With his Weeping Angels she’d been transformed to stone. Now, she was sitting at the bottom of Neptune's Ocean, below the watery surface of Hell. Growing barnacles and green algae on the chiseled crevices of her body as the fish swam between her legs and crabs crawled over her numb stone toes.
He had gotten Christa to summon something a mere secondary like Behemoth never could alone and then he'd transported it to the Astral Realm, out of the destructive female's clutches before the treasure's form was revealed. For safekeeping. However now, time was of the essence. Ticking with its manipulating hands, sliding like sand from an hourglass, sizzling like the flint-lit fuse of a time bomb. It was definitely this direction, he could sense it as his mind probed into the vast expanse. He had to find it before...
In the void of black, a twinkling silver corral reflected in a sheen of a flickering light which descended from above like a lamppost from the sky. Behemoth had stumbled upon a gate.
An eerie checkpoint for the wayward secondary to cross, but one he had to surpass no matter what. The treasure he was tethered to lay just beyond the subway-esque corral, calling to him and pulsing with mysterious allure. Standing with no other choice, Behemoth slowly slunk closer, nearing the gate and noting its requirement of passage was a ticket that he did not possess.
"No matter," he slithered. There were ways around it. The secondary placed a single hand on the mechanism and released a darkness into the metal. Corroding the entire silver mindscape to first deep turmeric colored rust and whatever was left turned to dust. A simple little curse, but effective enough to dethrone firewalls and pick locks. It would however alert the creator.
The gears of the mechanism jarred. Behemoth didn't have long now, he had to get moving but now before him, as he passed through the precipice, he realized there was a whole mindscape before him. One that Behemoth would have to search every nook and cranny of to find his prize.
…
A solemn silence ebbed in the abandoned wasteland. Yes, it was a virtual freaking dumpster of a dream, someone had taken a perfectly good construct and allowed it to fall into a completely dilapidated state. The keeper was either an untidy scab, or the purpose was to hide treasure below the shroud of garbage. Clever, he or she was, if it was the second case.
Behemoth would have to be weary now that his mind had alerted him of this danger, still, his footfalls were that of a raven’s gliding wing riding a breeze. From invisibility, Behemoth observed the land of darkness. Creatures crawling and thriving within the midnight, catching his eye but not enough for him to stop. There was… Distinct motive behind the design, the mindcrafter saw that now with ease. Behemoth was drawn to the tall striped canopy however something also pricked his mind, warning him to Beware.
The secondary tilted his head curiously, the game of hide-and-seek waged on as Behemoth crossed into darker waters, thicker horrors than just a headless body of sheer sinewy beef.
The secondary stalled his pace, feeling the importance of a building that did not fit in the carnival grounds. It stuck out like a shadowy sore thumb. Before him stood someone… Something of importance. The secondary wondered if it-he- could be used as a key, or if it was a live man standing guard within this dungeonscape.
Just what lay behind closed doors of a man or monster who kept his skeletons within an already undead carnival of ghosts and ghouls?
The secondary remained shrouded in the cloak-like umbral shadow cast by his mind, his bony build was that of an atrophied corpse covered in baggy clothing that drenched off of him as though soaked in water. His snakelike eyes were gleaming in the darkness, or rather, through it. The man was short had hollowed, ghastly cheeks, and dual shaded half-moons underneath his eyes. Yet, as his gaze darted from side to side, the monster began to get his bearings in this world of secluded nightmares.
He had learned to walk the land easily enough, for mind was king in this world of soulless phantoms and could bring the intangible to life.
Behemoth was mischievously seeking, his beady eyes continued to slice through the land of dreams. Some of the Astral land was created by primes and left there, some remained claimed territory. The scrawny secondary had the vague notion he was indeed trespassing. But he could sense her. The source. The purpose and reason he had just damned that female prime Christa to a fate worse than insanity. Eternal stone. Sure her attitude was... Less than savory, he could justify she deserved it, even. That was not the point. He couldn't leave any trace of the catastrophic memories behind. Not when they could be resummoned by a prime. Not when his secret could be revealed and used against him. He’d taken the most severe precautions, even then safe passage could not be guaranteed.
So he'd stripped her mind first of the truth, she had returned to her pre-prime state. A helpless, pathetic, angsty secondary. Then, he'd cursed her. With his Weeping Angels she’d been transformed to stone. Now, she was sitting at the bottom of Neptune's Ocean, below the watery surface of Hell. Growing barnacles and green algae on the chiseled crevices of her body as the fish swam between her legs and crabs crawled over her numb stone toes.
He had gotten Christa to summon something a mere secondary like Behemoth never could alone and then he'd transported it to the Astral Realm, out of the destructive female's clutches before the treasure's form was revealed. For safekeeping. However now, time was of the essence. Ticking with its manipulating hands, sliding like sand from an hourglass, sizzling like the flint-lit fuse of a time bomb. It was definitely this direction, he could sense it as his mind probed into the vast expanse. He had to find it before...
In the void of black, a twinkling silver corral reflected in a sheen of a flickering light which descended from above like a lamppost from the sky. Behemoth had stumbled upon a gate.
An eerie checkpoint for the wayward secondary to cross, but one he had to surpass no matter what. The treasure he was tethered to lay just beyond the subway-esque corral, calling to him and pulsing with mysterious allure. Standing with no other choice, Behemoth slowly slunk closer, nearing the gate and noting its requirement of passage was a ticket that he did not possess.
"No matter," he slithered. There were ways around it. The secondary placed a single hand on the mechanism and released a darkness into the metal. Corroding the entire silver mindscape to first deep turmeric colored rust and whatever was left turned to dust. A simple little curse, but effective enough to dethrone firewalls and pick locks. It would however alert the creator.
The gears of the mechanism jarred. Behemoth didn't have long now, he had to get moving but now before him, as he passed through the precipice, he realized there was a whole mindscape before him. One that Behemoth would have to search every nook and cranny of to find his prize.
…
A solemn silence ebbed in the abandoned wasteland. Yes, it was a virtual freaking dumpster of a dream, someone had taken a perfectly good construct and allowed it to fall into a completely dilapidated state. The keeper was either an untidy scab, or the purpose was to hide treasure below the shroud of garbage. Clever, he or she was, if it was the second case.
Behemoth would have to be weary now that his mind had alerted him of this danger, still, his footfalls were that of a raven’s gliding wing riding a breeze. From invisibility, Behemoth observed the land of darkness. Creatures crawling and thriving within the midnight, catching his eye but not enough for him to stop. There was… Distinct motive behind the design, the mindcrafter saw that now with ease. Behemoth was drawn to the tall striped canopy however something also pricked his mind, warning him to Beware.
The secondary tilted his head curiously, the game of hide-and-seek waged on as Behemoth crossed into darker waters, thicker horrors than just a headless body of sheer sinewy beef.
The secondary stalled his pace, feeling the importance of a building that did not fit in the carnival grounds. It stuck out like a shadowy sore thumb. Before him stood someone… Something of importance. The secondary wondered if it-he- could be used as a key, or if it was a live man standing guard within this dungeonscape.
Just what lay behind closed doors of a man or monster who kept his skeletons within an already undead carnival of ghosts and ghouls?
![[Image: -Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif]](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/35600000/-Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif)
"I have never met a strong person with an easy past." -Atticus