In the spirit of being a Friday of Thirteenth, I figured I would write some quick and very short, slasher-esc tales. So without further to do, I present you…
"Wishful Tolls"
The arm of his thrown shattered as he demanded a calm rage, “What do you mean we lost the northern boarders to Zyglak?!”
The being reeled back, more concerned for his life against “Wishing Well.” He takes a harsh breath in through his mask, “A Zyglak. It’s like nothing we’ve ever encountered! The freak just tore through our ranks!”
“A single Zyglak! I don’t care if there is an army of them! Get back out there and kill the thing!” His launchers start spinning, gathering power.
The being goes to speak, but these words come forth instead, “You condemned fool…”
“I’m goin–what was that?” ‘Wishing Well’ finds himself enraged and confused by the words, as well as something else.
The being was just as confused, but more afraid. He tries to speak again, but raspy death poured out in his place. “Interest is due. Now you pay the toll…”
The unfortunate underling finds his chest convulsing briefly before claws explode through, ripping him in half and tossing the pieces around the room. In his stead was a freakish red being with a bag for a head and several clawed tails, with what seemed like even more tails coming from its arms. “Wishing Well” was confused and found his mind filling with fear. What in the world was this thing?
“Wishing Well” shakes his head to clear it, retorting, “You dare think you can just enter my presence like that!”
Several wheels of energy fly towards the being.
“Or waste one of my soldiers? Even if he was worthless, it still would have been better to have his corpse on the front lines! There it could finally gain worth!”
The red being does not budge as the Rhotuka come, merely vanishing from sight and leaving the wheels to fly through empty air. “Wishing Well” gives a smug “Hmph” as he lashes his tail behind him, launching several more spinners from his tail in the motion.
“What?!” he cries confused as his tail makes no contact with his foe. He twists to look behind, only to see his attacker was not there.
Too late, he looks up and finds the red being already there to greet him. One large claw grabs his face, burying it into the floor while a knee digs into his back and drags the rest of his body into the ground. Before he could even attempt to get up or move his arms, those wicked tails lash out, claws pinning his limbs to the ground. “Wishing Well” attempts to get a strike in with his own tail, but swiftly feels the pain of his foe’s tail stabbing it into the floor. His attacker forcefully rips his head up and slams a metal claw contraption into his face. It clams down, digging spikes into his jaw and eyes. If he could, he would scream, but only muffles came.
Not caring for his own safety, he fires every Rhotuka he could and feels several of his launchers being destroyed in the attempt. But one of them must have struck as suddenly he was freed. He hurriedly gets up and tries to launch a spinner he believes to be Empower at himself, but hears only the whirling of a broken spinner. He curses something and readies more wheels, listening for his enemy.
Dong…Dong…Dong…Dong…
“Wishing Well” blasted at a direction he knew not where, just wherever that blasted bell was! But where it rang in one place, in the next instance it rang somewhere else.
Dong…Dong…Dong…Dong…
It was getting closer!
Dong…Dong…Dong.
It…It was everywhere!
Dong!Dong!Dong!Dong!
It was here! Inside!
“Wishing Well” grabs his head, falling to his knees as the constant ringing plagued his mind.
It wouldn’t stop. It keep growing louder! It must die!
He brings up an arm that he thinks has a working launcher to his head, charging to finally kill the thing. His arm suddenly burns and he tries to scream again, metal crushing and snapping from the force. Then a voice spoke, and this time he could recognize it.
“For you, death is not an acceptable payment. ‘The Shadowed One’ has other terms of agreement for your payments.”
= = = = =
A dramatized excerpt from Gen 1 RP: Answer’s Protection for Ga-Koro
Another day survived, another break from hard work. The Ga-Matoran almost drop her sack of a basket by the entrance of her hut, sighing loudly. Mata Nui surely had good intentions, but must the oceans be so populated with Rahi? Just a few thousand less would make it much easier. She just about collapses in her resting place when she hears it.
Ding ding! . . . Ding ding! . . . Ding ding!
She pauses and looks out her hut, worried for a brief moment, thinking it was the alarm signal. But no, no, that was the wrong pattern, must just be a ship entering the port. Just so tired, can’t make much sense of it. And to think, it almost sounds like it’s coming right over there, in that shell! She gives a small laugh at the thought as the full realization hit her. It was coming from the shell…
The Ga-Matoran was confused and dragged herself over to the shell and picked it up. When she did, the dinging stopped. What brief relief she had was replaced when a voice came through the shell.
“Protection…” The voice rang, almost as raspy and dead tired as she felt, but with so much more force. “You will want protection.”
She did not know why, but the words caused her to rattle. And in her jittering, she hardly could give the reply, “…Protection from what?”
“From this…” The words were almost a whisper this time, as though fading away from behind. And it seemed the words took everything with them, for the silence that followed was unbearable.
The Ga-Matoran didn’t move, scared, waiting. Waiting. Waiting…waiting…waiting…wai–she looks around and sees nothing. Everything is calm, everything is normal. Sleep depravity, that’s surely what it was. What would she even tell anyone if it was real anyways? Yeah, um, guards? Have you heard some shells ringing lately? I could have sworn that—
It was subtle noise, muted really, but grew noticeable swiftly. It sounded fairly light, like some tin can rolling down pavement, little metal clinks. Only to stop with a soft clank as it bumped into her heels. She kicked it by accident in a small burst of fright, sending it rolling into a dark corner. It was spherical, that was for sure…maybe just some fruit…that is now surely ruined.
She goes over and picks it up, bring it for inspection before dropping it with a shriek! The head of another Ga-Matoran bashed against the floor, mask shattering. She turns to run, screaming for guards when it reached out and grabbed her. Her legs moved, but had no traction; tried to scream more but was muffled. Claws filled her mask as she was turned around to face it.
A widget immediately greeted her, followed by darkness of fabric. Not wishing to see more, even in her panic, manages to grab a sickle and stabs it into the face of her captor. The creature did not appreciate this and squeezed, claws piercing through the mask and digging into her optics. They shatter with sparks of light, the Ga-Matoran screaming uncontrollably in pain. He tosses the pathetic thing through one of the walls and then vanishes just as guards enter the house.
Their sister would not survive, dying later in the week. In their search, they could find nothing that caused the deaths. The only thing of note was the unusual ringing of a sea bell, which rang the entire time near the house. Until it was suddenly silent again and another found one of their shells starting to ding.