The Beast of 2012, Ch 1: The Dream
A member of a druidic tribe in Germany, often finding himself split between tradition and the modern world, finds himself in the middle of an event which will shake the planet and all its inhabitants to the very core.
This is the first of a 3-chapter series written as a story trade with one of my favorite writers of...shall I say...non-traditional fiction. :3 Seemingly with each of his stories, he manages to push one or several of my buttons, often buttons I didn't know I had! So, several months ago, I offered a story trade, to enjoy a story written by him especially for me, and to also try my hand at writing on the very edge, to immerse myself in the maximum extent of imagination. This story series is the product!
Hope you enjoy!
Zenny
Henri Waterson sat quietly on an old, snow-covered tree stump, leaning back against a seat it naturally formed. He watched as the sky darkened from vibrant sunset colors of yellow, red, and elegant purple to ever-darkening shades of blueish-black. Minutes passed by, with stars appearing first overhead and spreading throughout, eventually enveloping his entire view of the sky. Framed by the ancient canopy of the German Black Forest, the sky was serene and peaceful.
Breaking his gaze, he sighed and looked down at his brothers, circled around a fire built atop an altar. The fire they had built sent orange light dancing around the forest clearing, especially brightening the circle of monolithic stones centered around the large, roughly carved altar, and casting warm colors on the surrounding snow. The stones cast long, shivering shadows, but Henri had selected a sitting place in the light of the fire. The warmth of the fire was appreciated; even though he was sitting about 10 or so meters away from the fire, the heat warmed him gently, whereas the shadows were much colder.
A moonless, cloudless night, it would only get darker and colder from here on out. He thanked himself for bringing a thick ski coat and good boots. Though traditional druid garb stipulated lighter fur and other various things, he didn't fancy himself much of a druid anyway. He looked at his brothers warming themselves around the fire. Though they were much closer to the fire than he, they were doubtlessly colder as the occasional crisp wind blew, with their traditional garbs doing little to protect them from the icy air.
He looked up at the sky again, picking out the handsomely red, imposing Mars and calm, paler Jupiter climbing over the treetops, moving slowly towards the apex of the sky. He knew the other planets were out there too, but Saturn and the more distant planets were too far to be visible, while Mercury and Venus could only be seen from the opposite side of the planet, and for only a few more hours until the morning sun there made them impossible to see.
Maybe it would have been better after all, he thought, to have worn his traditional gear, at least this time. He shivered, feeling another cold breeze whistle through the treetops. The trees creaked and moaned, and Henri jumped as he heard some ice and snow on their limbs suddenly breaking off and falling to the ground behind him. He settled back down on his tree stump for a second, sighing again, and then picked himself up onto his feet. Well, he might as well go join his brothers now. He hoped this ceremony would go somewhat quickly, and that they could go to the pub afterwards as usual. They were his best friends, and spending time with them, just sitting around, talking, sharing pints and being merry was precious.
Though even among best friends, some things are best kept secret...Henri in all his years still had never told his brothers about a mark on his inner thigh. It had been there since birth, a dark blueish discoloring of his skin. The thin mark curved in a blurry semi-circle, and had a sort of round blotch between the points of the curve. Several smaller dots lay in a line on the outside of the semi-circle. It was a hilarious irony, really. Still, best not let his brothers know, especially the Elder, because they would completely freak out. It did look a bit like a symbol of the Moon's power, he had to admit, but he really didn't want to spur on their superstitions. Smirking a bit at the ridiculousness of it all, he put it out of his mind, and decided he would get a nice pale ale after the ceremony.
Walking towards the fire, his boots crunched over the snow-covered ground. Fortunately the snow wasn't all that thick, perhaps only a dozen centimeters. It had snowed a couple days ago but the past couple days allowed a minor amount to melt off during the sunny mid-day hours. Coming to one of the monoliths, he propped his arm up against it for a moment, surveying his brothers around the fire. A couple looked up at him, and he smiled at them when their eyes met. Moving forward again, he climbed the three steps up onto the snow-cleared altar where the fire was built and sat down.
The Elder Druid, Nuval Myosin, looked at Henri with creepy, foreboding eyes. Well, he enjoyed spending time with his brothers except the Elder. His brothers were merry and often took a similar attitude as himself towards their rituals, but the Elder was always deadfast, always serious, treating every ceremony as if it were a life-or-death scenario. His fellow brother John Nordstall looked at Henri too, with a smirk on his face, and shook his head in silent agreement about the Elder taking all this too seriously.
Sitting more relaxedly again, and once again happy he was warm in his modern-day coat, he cleared his throat and spoke. "Elder, my meditation was productive. I, too, am ready to begin the ceremony." The Elder scrunched up his face. "Son, I saw you 'meditating'. I doubt you have reached the clear-minded state required of this ceremony. As well, your dress tonight does not respect the traditions of our Sacred Songs." The Elder paused, sighing. "Nevertheless, we must perform our ceremony, for tonight holds special importance. It is the Night of Climax, the night that the Sacred Songs have told about for ages, passed down from generation to generation. Our clan has been responsible for building up the Chamber of Souls, whose power has been building slowly, but steadily, for the past fifty generations. Each year we have performed a ceremony on this night, storing Souls in the Chamber for this ultimate night of reckoning.
"To not proceed tonight would invoke disaster on a scale unimaginable. We must do our best to maintain tradition, and the thirteen highest druids, myself and you included, must each do as required. We must activate the Souls stored in the Chamber, the chamber that we are sitting above, the chamber that is protected by this altar. We must hope that our ceremony does not lose many Souls, for we have to muster unimaginable power of good to fend off the Plight of Nemesi.
Henri shifted, rolling his eyes and propping his chin on his fist.
"...you have heard this before, Henri, but I want you to hear it again, so that hopefully you take this ceremony more seriously so we may all survive yet another day.
"The Plight of Nemesi will be the swarm of all the evil that has ever existed. As the Moon, stronghold and homeland of the evil ones, casts its dark shadow on the far side of Mother, insulting her bosom, the Moon will unleash all its evil, and that evil will be propelled by the shadows cast by Mercurius and Venusai. The entirety of the heavenly bodies will align, with each casting a shadow on the next. Evil will reverberate throughout the land and sky, just as a plucked string vibrates. The evil ones, tonight, will be empowered by our aligning planets, and we must stop them if Mother Earth is to live another day.
"This prophecy has been foretold for millennia, not just by us, but by the Mayans, the Egyptians, the Mongols, the Ethiopians, and countless other cultures. We call the coming year - which begins for us this night - Arxaheddion. The modern calendar calls this coming year two thousand and twelve. This year is the end of civilization. This cannot be stopped. Our only hope is that Mother Earth can survive, and that our spirits may be free of evil.
"Henri, this ceremony is our only chance to release the army of Souls to charge a single set of legendary armor, the Un'kar Sword and Armor, and counter the evil assault. Even if we were to do this ceremony perfectly, our chances of success are small. The fact that you have insulted us with your lack of concern for the tradition of our elders, and with your poor excuse for preparatory meditation, may well doom us all, and will at the very least have consequences for the life of our planet. I should hope you take the rest of your duties seriously, or else we are certainly doomed to blackness and evil forever."
Henri was only half-listening, as he had indeed heard all of this before, about how this was important and all. He still had his mind on celebrating in the pub afterwards, but as the Elder came to the end of his talk, a chill went down his spine. He looked upwards at the sky again and noticed that Jupiter was almost behind Mars. And not just that, but...the stars. They were fading out. Or was a black haze descending? He couldn't really tell, but his heart started pounding. Yes, now he regretted not respecting the traditions. Yes, now he feared for his life. Yes, he believed it now! He started feeling faint, and his hands and legs started quivering.
He looked down at the Elder again, with all his other now somber-faced brothers looking to the Elder as well, for guidance. "My Sons, it is not too late. We will all still perform this ceremony to the fullest of our hearts. Hurry, the planets are almost aligned. Let us rise and perform the dance enshrined in the Sacred Songs."
The Elder and the other twelve druids rose, and the Elder led them in song while they danced:
Oh, praised be the Mother,
On whose Bosom we make our Home,
Oh, in the shadow of her Brother,
We must defend with our Souls.
Beneath their feet, the ground started rumbling. Silently at first, growing louder, the rumble was coming closer.
Tonight we hereby Sacrifice,
All we have ever Known,
And praised be Hope, to best we Cope,
But hereafter Hope never be our Own.
Black haze started descending from the heavens. Gusts of wind turned into gales, whipping up snow in devilish circles, swirling between the monoliths.
Oh, praised be the Mother,
On whose Bosom we make our Home,
In the shadow of Moon and in the mercy of None,
We submit to her our Souls.
The snow turned black, and a sudden gust of wind felled trees left and right. By now, Henri concentrated all he could on performing the ritual. The watch on his left arm read 11:59PM, with 20 seconds left in the day. Not knowing the time, but knowing time was nigh, he put all his energy into finishing the song.
Here we dance, and pray to the Chamber,
That the Forces of Good may Prevail.
Evil surrounds, and tumultuous is Danger,
Alas, here come the spirits of Hell!
Blackness roared in from all sides, obscuring the stars and reducing visibility to nothing outside of the circle of monoliths. Nuval the Elder and the other druids, finishing the dance, stood still and all at once tapped their walking sticks firmly on the ground. Instantly, a glowing blue barrier formed between each monolith, with a glowing blue ceiling, encircling the druids against the solid, undulating evil sweeping the outside world.
The blackness buffered against the barrier, making the blue wall bend with each impact. Henri discerned individual black creatures pounding at the wall, some as small as mice, others as large as elephants. Creatures dissipated and formed continuously, all beating at the barrier, all the time surrounded by thick, tumultuous blackness.
Deep beneath the altar, in a massive cavern miles beneath the surface, musky, cool air began swirling. Spirits stored in the Chamber of Souls were stimulated by the prayer. Mindlessly swarming, they possessed no sort of recognizable consciousness, but were simply bodies of ethereal presence pulled to the surface by the druidic ritual. Thousands of spirits wound their way towards the surface, pulled through rocky, windy passageways of the caves underneath.
The Elder, seeing the blue barrier keeping the black evil at bay, allowed himself a small smile. Henri, John, and the other druids relaxed themselves, and Henri sat down, trying to let his heart calm down. While the brothers rested, the Elder spoke again: "We must now harness the Souls stored below, which should charge the Un'kar Sword and Armor, and its wearer, with sufficient energy to combat and, pray, destroy the evils swirling outside. We must remove the stone covering the passageway to the Chamber."
Deep beneath, the energized swirling air approached the surface, whistling rapidly through twists and turns in the various tunnels through bedrock below. Rushing upwards towards the cooler air near the surface, it started condensing, becoming a misting fog. Reaching the final passageway just beneath the altar, the air turned from mist to a rain, emptying the air of energy all at once. Liquid formed in puddles, rapidly expanding to a clear pool of energy meters deep. The pool grew deeper as spiritual energy was continually added, filling the subterranean chamber to its natural ceiling, and pressurizing it.
A small hole into the cavern's passageway, only a few centimeters wide but perhaps a few dozen meters long, led upwards at an angle from the ceiling. Terminating in a man-made room carved from stone just beneath the druids' altar, the hole led the liquid energy upwards, spilling from the room's wall over a single set of golden armor and a sword. Upon contact, the energy absorbed, making the metal glow a slight red color. For minutes on end, the energy continued to flow into the room unabated, charging the weapon set with the power to quench evil.
Far below, however, an almost silent cracking sound was left unheard by human ears. A small pebble and a couple flakes of rock fell from a high part of the cavern's ceiling, making a quiet splash upon the liquified energy's surface. And then a dripping sound appeared a few moments after the splash, as if some water was leaking in. Not terribly surprising, considering that stalactites form by such seepage.
But each droplet was black.
Each drop of liquid seeping in from outside the cavern left a small cloud of black in the liquid energy below. The cloud dissipated each time, but after several minutes of seepage, the cloud disappeared slower and slower, eventually remaining visible as no more of the blackness was dissolved. The clear energy was then rapidly overwhelmed having reached its limit of tolerance. Black drops relentlessly attacked the energy, finally corrupting the store of it. The entire pool turned black, permanently, as the energy was converted into the invasive, self-propagating black substance that had seeped in from the swirling black evil outside. Somehow, the druids' blue barrier had failed to safeguard their critical stockpile of energy; it was just too weak, and the evil brought by the Moon was simply too strong!
With the blue barrier protecting them from the outside spirits, they could now focus their attention on retrieving the Un'kar Sword and Armor from below the altar. It was decided ahead of time that the Elder would wear the armor and fight, since he was the most adept magician and well-versed in combat. John Nordstall looked at the Elder oddly, asking with his eyes how the heavy altar boulder would be removed, but anticipating this, the Elder chuckled. "Everyone, please step down. This can be accomplished with magic." In fact, after everyone stepped down, he simply motioned with his walking stick, and the multi-tonne boulder comprising the altar rose to levitate in the air directly above the entrance.
With the covering removed, the Elder walked over to the entrance to peer inside, seeing steps leading down to the chamber below. Facing his brothers for a moment, he half-smiled without saying a word, and turned back to start walking down into the chamber, about to set a foot on the first step going down.
Something, however, took hold of Henri. Without even thinking, the druid bolted from where he was standing and leapt into the chamber's entrance, clumsily falling through the air before crashing onto the stone floor far below. "NO!" exclaimed the Elder, reacting by reaching out to try to catch Henri despite being way too far away.
One druid having entered the chamber, the altar quickly fell back to seal the entrance. Dumbstruck, he still-outreaching druid groaned with the realization of what he just witnessed, and pounded his fist on the stone altar in angry resignation.
Below, Henri got up on his hands and knees, shaking himself, and stood up sweeping some dust off his chest. Again, he thanked himself for his thick coat, realizing it broke his fall and probably saved his life. Though, it was much warmer in here than it was above, so he took his coat off and threw it towards the side wall of the chamber. The very air of the chamber bore like a weight on his chest, as if it were actually heavier. Looking around, he instantly recognized the legendary Un'kar Sword and Armor, displayed handsomely on a stone statue of a warrior, at the center of the far side of the room. The walls were fairly unadorned besides the central display, with only some cracks here and there. A couple ethereal torches lent the room a flickering, red glow.
In fact, it was...really warm in there. He was sweating! He griped a bit under his breath, knowing that once he got back to the surface he would have to put all his warm clothes on again. What a pain. Grudgingly he stripped down to his underwear, his chest already shiny from sweat.
Only then did he realize what he had done, that it was he who had entered this chamber, and not the Elder who was much more well-versed in combat than himself. What was he thinking when he leapt in here? He wasn't sure; his mind was blank. But that Armor, and the Sword...they were beautiful. Intricately carved, shining gold. Walking over to them, his heart quickened, his body heating up. He felt the power emanating from them. He could have this power...yes, he could use it to save the world! He would regain honor for himself, and be famous, and be worshipped as a god! He...would be a god! Yes! He knew instantly this was what he wanted. Walking more briskly, closing the distance between himself and the Un'kar gear, he reached out assertively to grab the sword. Unsheathing it, he held it in his hand, and swung it back and forth grinning and laughing as he heard it whistle through the air, leaving trails of glowing ethereal presence with each swing.
But suddenly, droplets formed, streaming down the blade's length. Black droplets! The tip started bending, then completely melted off, with the entire blade following its lead and melting into an amorphous blob on the floor, not quite melting into a puddle but acting more like gelatin.
"Shit! What the Hell?! I...What happened?" the hapless druid wondered, dumbfounded. Desperately, he sifted through the gelatinous blob, not knowing what to do or how to recover the sword. How could he save the world like this? How could he be a god, with this...this insult to him! Angrily, he grabbed the golden armor's chestpiece and tried to slip it on, but before he could even get it over his head, it started melting. He slipped it on anyway, and most of the armor splattered to the floor in another gelatinous blob, with some slimy streaks left on his chest from where the armor was. "FUCK!" he yelled, grabbing a leg piece, and attempting to put it on. It, too, melted, splattering on the floor.
He went through every single armor piece in the set, saving the helmet for last. Cursing profusely he gripped the helmet between his hands, and of course it, too, melted before he could even get it on. He slammed his fists down against the statue, causing it to fall over crashing to rubble on the floor. Thrashing wildly he kicked the chamber's stone wall, making his foot crack. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!" he said as he tumbled to the floor, landing hard on his tailbone. He arched his back, his tailbone now screaming with pain as well, and thrashed around on the floor. Getting the goop all over himself, he cursed again.
The pain was so extreme...he had really done himself in, he thought, as his foot bled on the floor. Jesus what was he thinking? There had to be some other way, some other way to fulfill his destiny. To give him the powers he needed and so strongly desired! He quietly cursed again, weakly hitting the floor with his fist, and blacked out.
Henri was suddenly aware of himself. He was standing in...Times Square! But something was wrong...people were panicked, screaming, and running. From what? He turned around, looking up Broadway. Nothing. He quickly turned his head the other way, feeling a bit...heavier, and sluggish. Nothing south on Broadway either. Intrigued, and confused, he looked around in a slow, complete circle, even looking above him, and still saw nothing to be alarmed about. The sky, though...it was dark blue, and an eerie light lit the streets, though the streetlights weren't on and every single window was dark. Power must be out...
Suddenly, in a second story window, he saw a terrible, black monster that appeared to take up the entire room inside, sprouting dozens of tentacles from its back, and...fuck! Looking directly at him. He ducked down, feeling sluggish, but not seeing the monster pursuing him, he stood up again, meeting the monster's eyes. Tilting his head in curiosity, he...the monster tilted its head too. Eyes going wide, he discovered that HE was that...that thing in the window! He craned his...long?! neck to look down at his hands, which were supporting his weight on the ground.
Behind him, his rear legs were supporting his weight too. Since when was he four-legged? He then saw all the massive tentacles on his back, waving to and fro, and his...yes, he had a tail, too, evidently. Worriedly, he checked to see if his 'equipment' was even there. Looking under his belly, he saw this massive, black, dripping shaft under him, throbbing. Shrieking from panic, he bolted down the middle of Broadway, crashing over abandoned cars, trying to run from himself.
Leaping several cars at a time, he ran a dozen blocks south, looking behind himself several times to see if that thing was still chasing him. It still was, of course, and a few seconds later feeling lightheaded he completely gave up mid-leap, legs giving out under him and running into a small cluster of yellow taxi cabs and Lincoln TownCars with a resounding crunch of glass and metal. Motionless, he laid there for minutes on-end, his mind blank from feelings except utter confusion.
Moaning, he rolled off the pile of vehicles, finding himself unscathed. Blinking, and grunting as he stood up tall on all fours again, he surveyed the scene. The path of destruction he had waged extended as far as he could see; crushed taxies and passenger cars littered the street. All around him, the road was empty.
He suddenly...smiled! What power! All those before him had trembled, fled before him, and he ruled the street. He ruled New York City. He ruled the world! He felt energized, alive like he had never felt before. He was a god, seething with almighty power!
Bringing his black forepaw up to his face, he clenched it, feeling the power of his fist. Looking closer, he noticed it had a luster to it, a reflection of all around him. The eerie dark light seemed to glow around him, and cast a visible reflection on his paw. Opening his paw, looking at each finger, he noticed he didn't have joints, but rather each finger looked soft and flexible. Flipping onto his back, he inspected his former manhood, not even sure what it really was anymore. It, too, had a black sheen to it, and was still throbbing powerfully, now leaking juices on his black chest. Grinning, he reached down with his paw, touching the tip with one of his soft fingers.
Instantly purring, he pulled the finger back, grinning more seeing his sticky pre connecting the tip to his forepaw. How long was this thing, he wondered? Reaching down to the base, he admired the length of this...monstrous thing between his legs, and began tracing his paw up its length, making a squeaking sound as it went. Blinking, he continued tracing upwards several more feet to the tip, squeaking the entire way, making the sound of slick rubber on rubber. Wanting to grasp its massive girth, but realizing it more than dwarfed his single paw, he brought up his other paw, holding both sides of his member.
Energy shot throughout his body at the touch. Moaning and swinging his tail to the side smashing a few more cars, he moved his paws back down to the base, his cock tensing up and leaking more slippery pre on his chest, and admired his balls. Caressing them, chuckling and moaning as they also made the rubber-on-rubber squeak, he noticed each ball was truly massive, each well over a meter in diameter. Looking at his cock again, he noticed it was driveling its pre easily on his chest. Moving his head closer with his long neck, he nuzzled its tip, and moaned as more energy shot all throughout his body, shaking his core. The tip of his cock tingled, but...the tip of his maw tingled, too. Disregarding this feeling, he opened his mouth, feeling a large amount of gooey slobber drool out of his mouth, and crammed his mouth onto the top of his cock. At first unable to accommodate its width, he forced his mouth over it harder and harder, stretching his mouth impossibly wide.
Cock inside his mouth, he crammed more of its length into him, forcing it down his throat, making his mouth and throat tingle from all the stretching. His lust intensifying, he swallowed his entire length, cramming its full 15-foot long length down his throat so far that it made his entire throat's length stretch wide. Curled up on himself, his face was now extremely close to his tailhole, which appeared to be dripping with need as well. "Mmmf"ing at the pleasures, he rapidly brought his tail in and instinctively drove it straight into his ass, making him shudder and choke, sort-of, spurting more saliva out of his mouth. Pulling his tail back and driving it in again, even deeper, he moaned around his own shaft, fucking himself hard with his own tail. Thrusting harder and harder, thrashing around in a moaning, slippery, pre-cum covered rubbery mess on the street, he quickly drove himself over the edge.
His testicles visibly tensed up as they buckled, forcing an absolute flood of cum down his throat. His entire body quickly followed with orgasm, and he felt himself sputtering up a flood of...cum?! From his throat?! The cum quickly spurted out from his mouth, shooting out over his cock and landing on his pulsating balls. Meanwhile, even his tail was tingling, with the electric feelings reverberating throughout the tail's length, and ultimately it began pulsing too, seeming to fill his ass with the same cum!
The cum, just like his own body, was black, shiny, and extremely slick to the touch. As it spurted all over him, he enjoyed how slippery it made him feel, lubricating his motions as he continued to thrust and climax almost endlessly.
Moaning and still slightly thrusting his tail and suckling on his cock for seemingly several hours afterwards, he finally began pulling his mouth off his cock and his tail out of his hole. With a shlop, his cock fell out of his mouth, with both his mouth and his member leaking much of the black, liquid rubber cum. The smell of rubber absolutely filled his mind. Pulling his tail out, slowly, trying to enjoy the last of it being there for now, he noticed the odd tip as it exited his tailhole. In fact, the tip of his tail now had...bumps, on it, and a glans of sorts, looking like the glans on a dragon cock! He blushed hotly with arousal. Truly feeling like a god, he laid there pleasantly in the middle of Broadway with none to question him.
Henri gasped and lurched awake. His heart was pounding, but at least his foot felt a little better, and his tailbone didn't feel quite so bad. Exhaling a sigh, he sat up and started peeling himself out of the goo that surrounded him. He moaned, rubbing his eyes, and noticed that his penis was pulsing, and he had a wet spot on his boxers. Shit, he had a wet dream! Seriously, it'd been at least a decade since his last one, and now of all times? Grumbling, he lifted his legs and slipped his boxers off, discarding them in the corner. Rocking his weight sideways, he rolled onto his hands and knees and got up.
Remembering what had happened before he blacked out, he walked over to the entrance stairs and sat, head in hands, dismayed and unsure what to do. He was ashamed, and wanted to help save the world? Why had he had a wet dream? He couldn't remember exactly what it was, but it felt...energizing, somehow. Was he also dreaming when the weapons melted, and why had he been lusting for power so suddenly? He just wasn't himself; he felt like he was buzzed or tipsy, and somewhat aloof, as if he was simply watching himself in a movie.