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Success is not determined by your skills, rather by your will.
I have discovered I can't resist... This is part of chapter 1 from my completed story. There's no way I could upload it all here, it's just too long.
This lift is slower than she likes and a terrible noise comes from it. This lift is a smaller lift probably thirty feet in any direction. Its walls were a clear material showing clearly the cords and cables and the metal of the lift’s carriage units.
The tower like panel near the back wall lighted with pieces of numbers which she knew was somewhere in the neighborhood of sixty, but the display was broken showing only fragments of the number. The lack of people on this lift is daunting; leaving her believing this lift has been in dreadful condition for some time.
The sound increases becoming almost a screeching and grinding sound as the lift pulls higher and jerks slightly. The machine priests should at least keep better track of the machinery. She thinks to herself.
She glances looking in part for the source of the sound but also taking the chance to glance at her fellow travelers on the lift. As she looks, she sees a small child who flashes red in her eyes.
Something within him pulses as she looks at him and she feels a burning sensation. She knows he is psychic; he all but smells of energy as she observes him.
She wants nothing more than to deal with him for the Imperial Lord. Perhaps to take him and convert him. His power is great and she can feel how much a service she would be to the Imperial Lord.
She looks over the others. Simple enough, only four or five this time. Their clothing, mostly worn or torn, placed them likely as visiting family on one of the levels between seventy and eighty. Low class and hardly worthy of attention, it would be surprising if any of them had a weapon.
She smiles and approaches the little boy, whom is likely all of six years of age. His only clothing is a shirt far too long for him it hangs on him like a large sack. His features are very bony indicating a lack of nutrition that hardly passes her notice.
“Hello there.” She says. The boy’s blue eyes fill with terror and he runs quickly away. His small frame would not have indicated he held such speed. As he does she sees a warm blue flash within her second vision.
The boy hides quickly behind his mother, a frail woman with pale eyes and a softly flowing dress that made her only seem more slender and frail. The soft milky color and aimless gaze of her eyes shows that she is quite likely blind.
“What is it, Brian?” The woman asks her small child. He hides behind her neither moving nor saying a word.
“I said hello to the boy, who should have more respect for his elders.” she glanced at the others noticing the only weapons are a couple of simple knives. Ahh. Too easy. “Of course, what else would one expect from a heretic?” She motions towards the boy and his mother.
A couple of others on the lift back away already suspecting what is to come next. A man moves closer to the two. The woman steps forward. “A heretic? My son is a good boy. He serves the Imperial Lord as best he can down here.”
“You would stand against the word of the Inquisition?” She removes her cloak exposing her black full plate armor and the fiery flare of the inquisition symbol on her breastplate. This act also exposes her pale blue hair and intense amethyst eyes, something across the years she’s come to totally ignore.
The woman seemed frightened, suddenly developing a confused expression. She places a hand behind her to touch her son who is still hiding behind her. Myst continues to speak “Give me the child and perhaps you will be spared despite your insolence.”
The man draws his knife and approaches as she is speaking.
She looks closely at him. “Are you a fool? Do you not know who I am?”
The symbol on her armor flashes with a blue light. She smiles as the man freezes in his step a moment. I must thank that machine priest for his modifications later.
The man catches himself a moment then rushes, thrusting his arm forward just in time for her to cut it from him. His blood sprayed across the walls and her cloak and armor as the Crescent Shredder tore through his flesh, placing him on the ground. This is annoying.
With a swift dancing movement holding her sword in both hands. She drew it across his face carefully shredding it to the bone. She watches in amusmeent as he screams in agony, trying to stop his bleeding. His blood stains his faded shirt and pours down towards his torn pants.
She looks at him a moment and then takes her sword down further. She slices through his throat severing his head.
As an interesting gesture, she kicks it over to the feet of the woman. It takes the woman a moment to focus on what touches her leg, while the blood soaks into the hem of her dress. When she does realize what it is, she screams running frantically from it.
Myst took the Crescent Star, the sword of which she was so proud, holding it in both hands she raised her voice. “Those who do not worship the Imperial Lord live in fear, knowing the time will come when they must accept truth, or perish.”
She moved closer to the woman, who fled from the sound of her voice. Myst lunged forward thrusting her blade at the woman, cutting her lightly but not nearly deep enough to do more than tear the flesh and draw a brief bit of blood. The woman screamed and ran again away from her.
After a few moments she moved up closer to the woman and tore into her back wide open. The sword first made a soft buzzing as it stripped her flesh, then made a strange ticking as it sliced away pieces of her bone.
Each separate crescent flowing along the surface of the blade tore off one piece after another of the woman’s skin. Filed to a mono-molecular blade tip, it tore faster than a conventional blade. The repetitive crescents allow it to shred its victims with frightening speed. The woman screamed several times before she finally fell to the ground unmoving.
The boy cowered in the corner now and watched her stand before him. Her blade was still drawn and her deep black armor now soaked in the blood of those she had already killed.
“You, come here.” She commanded. Suddenly she lifted high into the air and crashed hard against the wall. She fell to the ground, her agility allowing her to land on her feet. She paused a moment then stood and walked towards the boy again.
The boy focused harder and threw her again.
She laughed and looked at the boy closely as she regained her footing after the second throw. “Such an ingrate, I was going to extend you an offer. Now I can only extend the Imperial Lord’s mercy to your unworthy skull.”
She places her sword away and fires her shoulder mounted psyonic crusher. Amplified by the boy’s own psychic energy, the detonator rod of the ammunition expanded its own power. It continued feeding off his energy to destroy him utterly. The boy’s head explodes like a grenade and his body falls helplessly to the ground.
She stood and looked around. Another man approached her from behind and hit her with his knife; it reflected off her armor like she had been hit with a child’s toy. The only real evidence was the resounding ring.
She turns to look at him. “What kind of foolish heretic are you?”
He does not respond, rather he hits her across the face, knocking her to the ground.
This bastard will have to be taught a special lesson. She looks at the man a sense of rage burning inside her. She rubbed her cheek gently as she stands again staring deeply into his hazel eyes.
She takes up her Crescent Shredder. “You are a fool. Do you think that you can avoid the Imperial Lord’s mercy?” She looks at him, He throws another punch. She dodges, moving her Crescent Shredder in the attempt to intercept, which somehow missed him. She swings again the man dancing out of her way with ease. Damn you, you’re making me look bad.
Screaming in rage, Myst threw herself at him leaving her sword raised as she she smashes her armor cased body into his. He falls backwards a ways then stands staring at her in shock.
She lowers her sword down upon him wordlessly glaring at him. It removes his left arm as he tries at the last second to dodge. She glances coldly at him on the floor bleeding there, curled tightly and trying to stop the river of blood coming from where his arm once was.
“I suppose it would be considered merciless to leave you in suffering.” She stated.
“You are a monster, killing that child.” His voice was weak from blood loss. His eyes still burned with a fire in them, a fire, which was slowly fading.
“I have freed him from suffering, as I now will you.” She lowers her Crescent Shredder into his chest throwing pieces of flesh and large amounts of blood all around his corpse. He raises his hands into the blade in a futile attempt to stop it.
She turns to the others. “I would not suppose any of the rest of you would wish to interfere with my dealing with heretics. Go about your business.”
The rest of the people on the lift stay as far from her as possible as she retrieves her blood-soaked cloak and carries it draped across one arm. Once the lift stops and she disembarks on one of the upper levels. No one else leaves.
Melodies flow as the world passes by (Soy Gitana)