Generation Gap
Sep. 27th, 2003 12:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarknessI actually have had this one for a while, but never realised I had't posted it up here. Still, I got it tidied up (after I did a load of editing on the werewolf sdtory from whbite wolf I wanted to post on here (not ready yet). i will come back to spark in darkness I promise, but I still have my angst sensors buzzing so I'm putting it off a little.
So here's an old new one, about vampires, because me not having vampire fiction up here, considering it makes up 99% of my stories, is just weird.
Radoslav stalked the streets again. How long had passed since he had ghosted among the fertile throngs of humanity in the flesh? A year? A decade? A century? More? Too long. Too long by far. It seemed harder to rise from the Long Sleep as the ages passed. So much easier to rest in gentle bed of oblivion while his spirit prowled these pathways
What had roused him from his slumber? Change. He felt it like an ever rushing river through his ancient veins. The steady thud of untold centuries that resonated in ever bone was off-beat, the rhythm violent and disturbing. Too long... Too long by far...
And now? The world had changed, changed beyond anything he could possibly imagine. Palaces of glass and steel towered too high, piercing the sky and driving the gods to flight. The wild places of the land had been swallowed by voracious urban monsters. Kings were cast down and bankers ruled in their stead. Currency was the new god, the pen the most terrible weapon and greed the only virtue. New strange devices proliferated beyond imagination. There were thoughts without minds, language without voice, objects without substance and grand behemoths that despoiled the land yet lacked a form to call their own.
This age was too strange. Too alien. Too wrong. This was not his world any more. Perhaps it never would be again. And the loss of the old was a far deeper disturbance than the loud, boisterous presence of so much of the new.
His fellow night stalkers were alien to him. The other hidden denizens hardly concerned him, but the mutation of humanity’s predators made enraged and terrified him. They were so young! Where were the old ones? Where were the shepherds of humanity, the hunters of the flock? These children considered a mere handful of centuries to be the mark of an ancient! They knew so little about the power they possessed! Not one realised the potential inherent in their immortal forms.
But worse, worse beyond measure. They were all Revenants! Mongrels still fettered by half dead humanity. Pathetic excuses forever trapped between the living and the dead.
Where were the vampires?! The true vampires, the real vampires?! Surely they cannot all have been destroyed? Perhaps... he remembered an age, long passed as human considered time, when vampires were hunted by the very prey they fed upon. Eaten by fire, slain by the sun, stalked and killed wherever they rested and wherever they lay. Whole armies risen to take down one vampire, thousands of humans slaughtered, but always thousands more to stand in their stead. Now? Now when humans were more numerous than insects, now when humans swarmed together in vast hives and possessed weapons more deadly than ever a vampire was? Yes.. extinction was indeed possible.
Maybe they all still slept... maybe they could not live in this world, this alien, unknowable world. Maybe they chose the next world, rather than this one. It might be more familiar to old souls like himself. He could understand that. Definitely understand that...
A pack drifted by. Young, so very young, not a one of them more than three decades old! Revenants all, no master to hold their leash, to guide their hand. Children running wild without guidance, and let the world burn for the consequences. Perhaps that would explain their strange clothes, strange urban barbarians dressed in leather with an odd lustre, highlighted with metal, metal they had gleefully inserted into their bodies. Doubly foolish to advertise their nature so... but then he had seen humans similarly attired. A strange world.
He did not hide from them, easy though it would be. He needed to know where his peers where, perhaps these marauding infants knew... unlikely though it may seem.
They stopped. They could feel him, even their dim senses could not miss him. No light of understanding gleamed in their eyes, though. They did not recognise him. Radoslav felt a spark of hope die, felt the isolation grow a little stronger. He turned to go, they would be useless to him. A hand grabbed his arm.
He turned in shock, to see a face mauled by numerous metal inserts. That deformed visage twisted into a snarl, or possibly a grin. “’Ere mate, what’re you supposed to be then? Recknon we found a new toy, lads.”
Radoslav glared up at the repulsive creature. Outrage flare din his heart. This REVENANT dared?! “Fool child, how dare you lay hands upon me!” His voice echoed through the street, seeming to boom from every direction. In ages past peasant ran in terror from that ever present voice.
The gang leader barely paused. He rammed one metal studded fist into Radoslav’s stomach. The ancient vampire doubled slightly, his white face an image of shock, his thick black hair flailing as he staggered slightly backwards. The second blow came down. But this didn’t catch the old vampire by surprise.
The gang leader screamed, jumping backwards, clutching his shattered hand. Radoslav’s skin was harder than stone, stronger than steel. The ancient moved, moved so fast that even these creatures with senses several times sharper than any human could not follow his movement. He wasn't a blur, he was too fast for that, he just appeared behind the howling revenant. His hand smashed through the child’s body, easy as a hand through water, pulling back, crushing the claimed heart between iron fingers.
A jerk of movement, the youngsters lost him. A second fell, not realising Radoslav had even moved before the ancient had struck from behind, gripping his neck and pulling the head clear from its shoulders. He turned his head and met the eyes of a female vampire, her hair a strange crest of bright clashing colours. He smashed his mighty mind into her insipid will, their was no resistance. Her eyes glazed over. Her mind was dead, never to return.
There was a loud bang. A strange noise, seemingly caused by the small metal contraption held by one of the children. A second raised a larger and even more oddly shaped device. The tube at the end of the tool flashed brightly, it emitted a strange thudding noise. Radoslav was vaguely aware of a series of impacts against his flesh. His clothes were being ripped to shreds, but the few impacts that actually penetrated his skin did virtually no damage, scratching at long atrophied and useless organs. Whatever weapon this was, it did not impress the ancient. He bared his fangs and snarled at the ridiculous fools. Instinctive terror assaulted their hearts as the base part of their mind recognised the predator before them. They turned and fled desperately into the night.
Suddenly the world dissolved into searing flame. Radoslav screamed in pain, fire! They could call fire! Two more children fell to the floor, dissolving into ash as they died, heads shattered by Radoslav’s screams. The ancient gestured outwards, forcing the flames away, calling his power to heal the raw, red burns that covered his skin. The flame darted outwards, spearing yet another gang member, the bright flickering flames reflected briefly in the silver studs that covered his face, before the flames engulfed him, and he fell screaming and rolling on the floor, desperately trying to quench the flames.
Radoslav staggered, his knee splintering. He turned and saw an angry woman, dressed in strips of black leather, covered in tassels. She glared at him, holding another of those strange devices. This was different, he felt the burn of silver as she fired again, the bullet smashing into his chest. He hissed... long and loud, a hiss of rage. A hiss of summoning.
Rats boiled out from the grates at the edges of the street. hundreds upon hundreds of rats. Too many to kill, too small to hit, but all biting, clawing, savaging, intent to kill. The gang screamed, desperately trying to fight a legion of foes. The angry woman was the first to run, but the others were quick to follow. Some things you could not fight, and Radoslav was certainly one.
The ancient pulled himself painfully to his feet, he had never seen a device that could launch silver with such power over such distance. He grimaced as his bones reset, and the wounds healed. With such devices even these children could approach being dangerous. And army of humans with them? Perhaps he was the last one.
The last one in an alien world... perhaps extinction would be kinder.
So here's an old new one, about vampires, because me not having vampire fiction up here, considering it makes up 99% of my stories, is just weird.
Radoslav stalked the streets again. How long had passed since he had ghosted among the fertile throngs of humanity in the flesh? A year? A decade? A century? More? Too long. Too long by far. It seemed harder to rise from the Long Sleep as the ages passed. So much easier to rest in gentle bed of oblivion while his spirit prowled these pathways
What had roused him from his slumber? Change. He felt it like an ever rushing river through his ancient veins. The steady thud of untold centuries that resonated in ever bone was off-beat, the rhythm violent and disturbing. Too long... Too long by far...
And now? The world had changed, changed beyond anything he could possibly imagine. Palaces of glass and steel towered too high, piercing the sky and driving the gods to flight. The wild places of the land had been swallowed by voracious urban monsters. Kings were cast down and bankers ruled in their stead. Currency was the new god, the pen the most terrible weapon and greed the only virtue. New strange devices proliferated beyond imagination. There were thoughts without minds, language without voice, objects without substance and grand behemoths that despoiled the land yet lacked a form to call their own.
This age was too strange. Too alien. Too wrong. This was not his world any more. Perhaps it never would be again. And the loss of the old was a far deeper disturbance than the loud, boisterous presence of so much of the new.
His fellow night stalkers were alien to him. The other hidden denizens hardly concerned him, but the mutation of humanity’s predators made enraged and terrified him. They were so young! Where were the old ones? Where were the shepherds of humanity, the hunters of the flock? These children considered a mere handful of centuries to be the mark of an ancient! They knew so little about the power they possessed! Not one realised the potential inherent in their immortal forms.
But worse, worse beyond measure. They were all Revenants! Mongrels still fettered by half dead humanity. Pathetic excuses forever trapped between the living and the dead.
Where were the vampires?! The true vampires, the real vampires?! Surely they cannot all have been destroyed? Perhaps... he remembered an age, long passed as human considered time, when vampires were hunted by the very prey they fed upon. Eaten by fire, slain by the sun, stalked and killed wherever they rested and wherever they lay. Whole armies risen to take down one vampire, thousands of humans slaughtered, but always thousands more to stand in their stead. Now? Now when humans were more numerous than insects, now when humans swarmed together in vast hives and possessed weapons more deadly than ever a vampire was? Yes.. extinction was indeed possible.
Maybe they all still slept... maybe they could not live in this world, this alien, unknowable world. Maybe they chose the next world, rather than this one. It might be more familiar to old souls like himself. He could understand that. Definitely understand that...
A pack drifted by. Young, so very young, not a one of them more than three decades old! Revenants all, no master to hold their leash, to guide their hand. Children running wild without guidance, and let the world burn for the consequences. Perhaps that would explain their strange clothes, strange urban barbarians dressed in leather with an odd lustre, highlighted with metal, metal they had gleefully inserted into their bodies. Doubly foolish to advertise their nature so... but then he had seen humans similarly attired. A strange world.
He did not hide from them, easy though it would be. He needed to know where his peers where, perhaps these marauding infants knew... unlikely though it may seem.
They stopped. They could feel him, even their dim senses could not miss him. No light of understanding gleamed in their eyes, though. They did not recognise him. Radoslav felt a spark of hope die, felt the isolation grow a little stronger. He turned to go, they would be useless to him. A hand grabbed his arm.
He turned in shock, to see a face mauled by numerous metal inserts. That deformed visage twisted into a snarl, or possibly a grin. “’Ere mate, what’re you supposed to be then? Recknon we found a new toy, lads.”
Radoslav glared up at the repulsive creature. Outrage flare din his heart. This REVENANT dared?! “Fool child, how dare you lay hands upon me!” His voice echoed through the street, seeming to boom from every direction. In ages past peasant ran in terror from that ever present voice.
The gang leader barely paused. He rammed one metal studded fist into Radoslav’s stomach. The ancient vampire doubled slightly, his white face an image of shock, his thick black hair flailing as he staggered slightly backwards. The second blow came down. But this didn’t catch the old vampire by surprise.
The gang leader screamed, jumping backwards, clutching his shattered hand. Radoslav’s skin was harder than stone, stronger than steel. The ancient moved, moved so fast that even these creatures with senses several times sharper than any human could not follow his movement. He wasn't a blur, he was too fast for that, he just appeared behind the howling revenant. His hand smashed through the child’s body, easy as a hand through water, pulling back, crushing the claimed heart between iron fingers.
A jerk of movement, the youngsters lost him. A second fell, not realising Radoslav had even moved before the ancient had struck from behind, gripping his neck and pulling the head clear from its shoulders. He turned his head and met the eyes of a female vampire, her hair a strange crest of bright clashing colours. He smashed his mighty mind into her insipid will, their was no resistance. Her eyes glazed over. Her mind was dead, never to return.
There was a loud bang. A strange noise, seemingly caused by the small metal contraption held by one of the children. A second raised a larger and even more oddly shaped device. The tube at the end of the tool flashed brightly, it emitted a strange thudding noise. Radoslav was vaguely aware of a series of impacts against his flesh. His clothes were being ripped to shreds, but the few impacts that actually penetrated his skin did virtually no damage, scratching at long atrophied and useless organs. Whatever weapon this was, it did not impress the ancient. He bared his fangs and snarled at the ridiculous fools. Instinctive terror assaulted their hearts as the base part of their mind recognised the predator before them. They turned and fled desperately into the night.
Suddenly the world dissolved into searing flame. Radoslav screamed in pain, fire! They could call fire! Two more children fell to the floor, dissolving into ash as they died, heads shattered by Radoslav’s screams. The ancient gestured outwards, forcing the flames away, calling his power to heal the raw, red burns that covered his skin. The flame darted outwards, spearing yet another gang member, the bright flickering flames reflected briefly in the silver studs that covered his face, before the flames engulfed him, and he fell screaming and rolling on the floor, desperately trying to quench the flames.
Radoslav staggered, his knee splintering. He turned and saw an angry woman, dressed in strips of black leather, covered in tassels. She glared at him, holding another of those strange devices. This was different, he felt the burn of silver as she fired again, the bullet smashing into his chest. He hissed... long and loud, a hiss of rage. A hiss of summoning.
Rats boiled out from the grates at the edges of the street. hundreds upon hundreds of rats. Too many to kill, too small to hit, but all biting, clawing, savaging, intent to kill. The gang screamed, desperately trying to fight a legion of foes. The angry woman was the first to run, but the others were quick to follow. Some things you could not fight, and Radoslav was certainly one.
The ancient pulled himself painfully to his feet, he had never seen a device that could launch silver with such power over such distance. He grimaced as his bones reset, and the wounds healed. With such devices even these children could approach being dangerous. And army of humans with them? Perhaps he was the last one.
The last one in an alien world... perhaps extinction would be kinder.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2003-09-27 12:12 am (UTC)Ooh.
More, please?
(I definately wouldn't want to meet Radoslav in a dark ally. Yikes, he's powerful.)
(no subject)
Date: 2003-09-27 11:08 am (UTC)At least I've got a muse Ahrimadan won't torment.