User blog:BTR180/Song of ruin

It is dark, it is quiet but why wouldn’t it be? It’s the middle of the night and you are exhausted; yet for some odd reason you can’t fall asleep. You look to your left upon your sleeping significant other; they lay there silent and carefree after tonight’s after special after meal action as they dream merrily. Yet for some reason sleep evades you. Something gnaws at the back of your mind; some primeval instinct tells you that there is danger afoot. “But that’s ridiculous,” You think to yourself. “All the precautions, all the safeties, of all the things that could go wrong the worst could be that the stove could be left on… Wait… was it?” Slowly you work the courage to leave the warm embrace of your bed and lover to investigate when the night’s ambiance stops. The crickets stop chirping, the breeze stops blowing and the air in the room goes stagnant and heavy. You attempt to get to your feet but an unearthly weakness overcomes you as you stare in shock as a smoky orb of nothingness forms above. The orb of dark clouds becomes bloody and then a hole is bored in reality. As it forms the sound of one hundred thousand children screaming echoes from the distance. Despite the scraping of existence, despite the screams, despite the chaos that births before you your partner does not wake.

From that horrid wound emerges thousands of starving crows, cawing and raving their symphony of famine, preceding a crawling throne, an amalgam made of bone, flesh, sinew, trailing the ichor of the damned. Upon that throne sits the proclaimed champion of the former goddess, the self anointed paragon of humanity. The throne rests upon an amalgamation of pain and horror, the sheer magnitude of the contraption too much for words to describe. The effigy of repulsion grinds to a halt mid air; its sheer size of the hulking machine defies the small bedroom you rest in. The hulking mass of gore is flanked by demons and demonettes, monsters and fallen angels, emaciated living and dead. The long lost champion of the Order raises his hand and the jittering beings of the void fall silent just before he opens his mouth and speaks.

“Behold… Behold one and all as I have returned… You thought my tainted spirit gone but no… I have toppled the masters of the dark realms and from their amalgamated thrones I crafted this FEAR ENGINE and bore a hole through this world and that one.”

The demonic entourage starts to cackle and writhe in joy as the room combusts and consumes everything you have collected. And despite the flames, despite the terrible presence and the cackling of the demons your partner does not wake.

'''“You thought me banished! You thought me defeated! But BEHOLD!”''' The entire building trembles as he speaks. '''I have returned to this world by sheer force of will and TIME! Now my dark work will be continued and I will sing the song that ends this earth…”'''

The terrible visage of the fallen champion disappears along with his entourage and the flames yet the world continues to shake. You hear a voice, your significant other rouses you from your sleep and they look quite displeased. It appears that you have fallen asleep while performing your marital duties and now must face something even worse than the end of the world… an angry wife.

“You better have a pretty good reason for falling asleep on me!” To which you reply. “He’s returned… Jorge [BTR180] has returned!”

She looks at you with a glance that shrivels your manhood and sends you curling into a ball. Your skin grows cold as her steely glare bringing out within you a fear so great that you would rather face the Fear Engine instead of her. You should not have said that. You should not have mentioned that you were thinking of a man when fell asleep during coitus. No matter how much you beg, no matter what acts you promise to perform on her she does not listen and you soon find yourself at her mercy and cry…