08-12-2018, 06:59 PM
[y'all don't have to match at all the only important paragraphs are down at the bottom]
She came to him as an angel. She towered over him like a skyscraper, an indescribable glowing mass tinged with all the colors of the sunrise behind her. When she moved, the sky sang and the earth creaked with her massive weight. Every step she took shook the ground, made buildings collapse around him, and she advanced until there was nothing but a concrete mess circling him. In the center of it all, there he laid, starving and freezing. His fingers were black, his eyes were red, and any kind of movement was a feat within itself. He was useless at that point. He was just waiting to die. Her hands were several times bigger than himself, and when she picked him up, it burned.
She was the light at the end of his tunnel. He thought that for sure, this would be the day he faced God, or at the very least had the gates of heaven slammed right in his face. This was the end of his time on earth, and soon he would be strung up in hell, subject to eternal torture. When the angel spoke, his eyes rolled back. He felt her voice in the pit of his stomach, like thunder rumbling overhead.
She tore him apart, from limb to limb. He was a tangled mess of himself, of his own blood and guts, choking on his own innards. It was impossible to contain her in his tiny, fragile body, he thought. Whatever the angel was trying to do, it would never work - he kept begging her to stop, to piece him back together and just send him off, but she was determined. He had already been marked, and there was no going back.
She did it. Pieces of her were left scattered around him, wiggling scraps of monster flesh at his feet, an eyeball or two strewn here and there. When it was all said and done, Zachariah came to in the same spot he had been before the angel arrived, in the same ratty clothes, with the same red eyes and black fingertips. There were no writhing pieces of glowing flesh to be seen, and every building lining the road was intact.
Zachariah no longer felt weak. In fact, he didn't feel any of the pain he had felt before, not a bit. The feeling in his fingers had returned, and despite his skeletal frame, the gnawing hunger in his belly had vanished. He did feel a... pressure inside of him, but it wasn't enough to distract him. As nightmarish and surreal as that experience had been, there was no way he could ever pass it off as a dream. It was too vivid to be his imagination, and the seal on his stomach was proof enough for him.
He spent months wandering around the world. He no longer had any lingering sense of urgency, like he always had to be on the run. No one recognized him. He became just another face in the crowd.
But with nothing to be afraid of, Zachariah is now incredibly bored. He might be taking this protective angelic presence for granted, as otherwise he would probably be on death row, but without any conflict he's not sure what exactly he should do with himself. So far the past several years have been spent wandering around the world, exploring every nook and cranny, and this is his most recent stop. It's nothing special, really, if also a bit boring.
What does catch his interest is a giant pineapple. He's seen plenty of weird installments, displays and sculptures, but he doesn't ever recall seeing a giant pineapple. It's... charming. It's a sight for sore eyes, honestly, with all the grimy, grim places he's been to lately. Often the angel (who he now affectionately refers to as Tammy) will have him waking up in the most obscure, dark and seedy places. This is a breath of fresh air.
He doesn't see many people out and about the town, save for a few tourists excitedly taking selfies in front of an old Ferris wheel in the distance. This isn't really what he's looking for, it's nowhere close to the kind of entertainment he seeks, but Zachariah supposes it's a step in the right direction. He would like to know where he is, since he doesn't have the slightest clue. He approaches the closest person, and with a gentle tap on the shoulder, he asks, "Excuse me, but, uh, where the fuck am I?"
She came to him as an angel. She towered over him like a skyscraper, an indescribable glowing mass tinged with all the colors of the sunrise behind her. When she moved, the sky sang and the earth creaked with her massive weight. Every step she took shook the ground, made buildings collapse around him, and she advanced until there was nothing but a concrete mess circling him. In the center of it all, there he laid, starving and freezing. His fingers were black, his eyes were red, and any kind of movement was a feat within itself. He was useless at that point. He was just waiting to die. Her hands were several times bigger than himself, and when she picked him up, it burned.
She was the light at the end of his tunnel. He thought that for sure, this would be the day he faced God, or at the very least had the gates of heaven slammed right in his face. This was the end of his time on earth, and soon he would be strung up in hell, subject to eternal torture. When the angel spoke, his eyes rolled back. He felt her voice in the pit of his stomach, like thunder rumbling overhead.
She tore him apart, from limb to limb. He was a tangled mess of himself, of his own blood and guts, choking on his own innards. It was impossible to contain her in his tiny, fragile body, he thought. Whatever the angel was trying to do, it would never work - he kept begging her to stop, to piece him back together and just send him off, but she was determined. He had already been marked, and there was no going back.
She did it. Pieces of her were left scattered around him, wiggling scraps of monster flesh at his feet, an eyeball or two strewn here and there. When it was all said and done, Zachariah came to in the same spot he had been before the angel arrived, in the same ratty clothes, with the same red eyes and black fingertips. There were no writhing pieces of glowing flesh to be seen, and every building lining the road was intact.
Zachariah no longer felt weak. In fact, he didn't feel any of the pain he had felt before, not a bit. The feeling in his fingers had returned, and despite his skeletal frame, the gnawing hunger in his belly had vanished. He did feel a... pressure inside of him, but it wasn't enough to distract him. As nightmarish and surreal as that experience had been, there was no way he could ever pass it off as a dream. It was too vivid to be his imagination, and the seal on his stomach was proof enough for him.
He spent months wandering around the world. He no longer had any lingering sense of urgency, like he always had to be on the run. No one recognized him. He became just another face in the crowd.
But with nothing to be afraid of, Zachariah is now incredibly bored. He might be taking this protective angelic presence for granted, as otherwise he would probably be on death row, but without any conflict he's not sure what exactly he should do with himself. So far the past several years have been spent wandering around the world, exploring every nook and cranny, and this is his most recent stop. It's nothing special, really, if also a bit boring.
What does catch his interest is a giant pineapple. He's seen plenty of weird installments, displays and sculptures, but he doesn't ever recall seeing a giant pineapple. It's... charming. It's a sight for sore eyes, honestly, with all the grimy, grim places he's been to lately. Often the angel (who he now affectionately refers to as Tammy) will have him waking up in the most obscure, dark and seedy places. This is a breath of fresh air.
He doesn't see many people out and about the town, save for a few tourists excitedly taking selfies in front of an old Ferris wheel in the distance. This isn't really what he's looking for, it's nowhere close to the kind of entertainment he seeks, but Zachariah supposes it's a step in the right direction. He would like to know where he is, since he doesn't have the slightest clue. He approaches the closest person, and with a gentle tap on the shoulder, he asks, "Excuse me, but, uh, where the fuck am I?"
[align=center]characters + 16 + he/him